Audience of One

Chapter Seventeen

Zidane felt cool silks and soft downy pillows beneath his head. He couldn't remember the last time he had laid on something so divine and comfortable. When he opened his eyes, he found himself an ornate room. Nearby, french doors were open, allowing a soft spring breeze into the room. Rays of golden morning sunlight fell through the wall-length windows. Birds chirped not too far off. Zidane blinked rapidly as his hair ran against his pillow. He then realized someone was pressed against him. On his chest, Garnet's head was tilted against him. She wore a long, flowing nightgown, her arms strewn across him. Zidane looked at the furniture now. They were in her royal chambers. It had been awhile since he had last seen the room. He had been burning up with a flu-induced fever. Garnet roused in the next moment, lifting her head and letting out a yawn. She frisked her dark hair back from her face and looked up to see if Zidane was awake. He was greeted by a grin that seemed brighter than the sun that moment. Her complexion was so clear, her dark eyes dancing in the light.

"Mmm," she stretched, falling onto the pillows. Their faces were only inches apart. "Good morning, Your Majesty."

Zidane reached forward to caress her cheek. Garnet leaned in to the touch. She felt so incredibly real. Zidane stared intently at her before his eyes darted back around the room. Everything was so detailed and surreal. His typical visions were fast paced, bleary, and often didn't last long enough to absorb all the details. But in that moment, Zidane could have counted the threads in the bedsheets. "Don't you ever get tired of hearing that?"

"Oh, all the time," Garnet rolled her eyes. She flopped onto her back and stretched her arms upwards. Her olive skin gleamed like almond butter in the sunlight. "It's engraved into everyone's minds, though. Getting them to stop, well, it'd be easier to catch a Chocobo blind folded."

Zidane threaded his fingers together over his stomach as he stared at the tulle canopy that hung above the bed. "What was it about me that you thought could be king?"

Garnet sat up on her elbow, her onyx hair pooling around her. "What's this? Another morning of doubt?"

Zidane offered a grin. "Maybe I just need the reassurance."

Garnet laughed, pressing herself against his chest again. She gently lay her chin on him, gazing up at him with her sparkling eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he had dreamed of Garnet in so much detail. He could see the very faintest of freckles she had on the bridge of her nose. The tiny scar that was left from when her horn was removed. Her thick eyelashes that batted when she blinked. There she was in all of her glory and perfection. But deep inside, his stomach knotted, because he knew none of this was real. Zidane reached towards her again, gently brushing some of her hair from her heart shaped face. He was feeling all sorts of things stew about inside of him. Regret, foolishness, desire. What was he doing with himself? Why was he doing this? Garnet's smile never waned as she admired him in the early morning light.

"Well," Garnet licked her lips. "You have enough charm for the both of us. You're charismatic and always know just what to say. You're quick to think on your feet. You've come so far, Zidane. You should be proud of yourself and everything you've accomplished."

"Even after how much I hurt you?" Zidane's voice was husky and unsure in that moment.

Garnet sat up now. "That doesn't matter anymore, Zidane. I've forgiven you. Why can't you forgive yourself?"

"Because it's not over," Zidane shook his head. "I'm still hurting you. Forgiveness can't be given until it's done and dealt with, Dagger."

"It is over, Zidane," she told him. Garnet climbed from the bed. Her silken nightgown followed her wiry figure as she crossed to the open french doors. Zidane was hesitant to stand. He thought the moment he slipped off that bed, he'd fall into darkness, never to see anyone again. But his feet met the cool marble tile and he came to the foot of the bed, watching her. Garnet hugged herself as the spring day came alive over Alexandria. "You certainly have a tendency to get too far into your head."

"Only because we both know we're not here right now," Zidane replied. "This is too real. It's too perfect."

"Things can only go back to normal if you allow them," Garnet turned towards him, the morning light bleeding over her shoulders. "You have to give yourself grace. Stop blaming yourself. Even when things come down to the wire, you manage to get us all out. Nothing is different, Zidane. All you're doing is hurting yourself. You can't control everything and I know that scares you. But you have to stop running. You can't keep taking responsibility for everything that happens. You have your own life to think about. And it's simply that. It's your own. It doesn't belong to Terra or Garland or Kuja. It's all yours. All I want… all everyone wants… is to have you back, Zidane. Nobody blames you. No one feels sorry for you. We fear for you."

Zidane brushed past her and walked to the edge of the balcony, placing his hands against the smooth stone balustrade. Down below, the garden was blossoming in all its glory, as if tragedy had never struck. He saw the soldiers moving about on their shifts. Zidane's eyes wandered towards Queen Brahne's resting place. It was about that time, he'd be patrolling that area before reporting to Garnet's private study for a day of bureaucracy. He paused as he saw a soldier sitting down there on a bench, their elbows pressed into their knees. After a beat, the soldier removed their helmet. It was Zeke Tisdoll with his darkened brown hair. He rubbed anxiously at his face. Zidane's stomach flopped and he turned away as his skin flushed.

"Are sins ever forgiven?" Zidane asked Garnet, absolutely petrified from where he stood.

"When asked by the right person."

"You would forgive me…? For everything?"

"Zidane…" the way his name sounded on her tongue, it sent shivers down his spine. Garnet approached him, pressing her hands against his chest. "There's so much you could have in this world if you stopped punishing yourself. You have to stop running. There was a time I tried doing the same. But eventually, you're going to reach the edge. And when you do… I just please beg that you don't jump." Slowly, Zidane looked back over the edge of the balcony, watching as Zeke Tisdoll pried his plaque off the memorial and hurled it into the river. Her slender fingers came to grab his jaw, directing his eyes to hers. "Zeke is gone, Zidane."

"What if I can't save you this time, Dagger?" Zidane whispered.

"It's not up to you to save me," she shook her head. "You have to save yourself. It's the only way this will all be solved."

In that moment, Zidane felt something crumbling inside of him. The tethers that held him together snapped, echoing through his frazzled mind. As he looked at her, he felt the dam within him break and a wave of emotions he had carefully repressed for a year came gushing out. He was nearly shaking as he pulled her against him. Zidane pressed his face against her head, cursing the detailed dream for remembering even how her hair smelled. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. "I want to save you. I want to be in love with you."

"And what's stopping you?"

"Look what's happened, Dagger," he leaned back to look intently at her face. "Look what you've done because of me. I'm not good for you."

Surprisingly, Garnet smiled. "You've read too much Lord Avon. This isn't a fairytale, Zidane. This is real life. You're not responsible for my actions. You never have been. All I want is for you to be yourself again. We can keep going in circles about this for the rest of time, but it doesn't change facts. If you love me, fight for it. And if you don't, then step aside and let those who do figure it out. It's all very simple."

"I'm not giving up on you or any of this," Zidane told her.

"Well, then wake up," Garnet replied. "Wake up and find yourself."

…

Zidane gasped sharply as his eyes shot open. His entire body stiffened on the small meager bunk he slept on aboard the Blue Narciss Marx. His nostrils flared as reality sunk back in on him. His face was sticky as he sat on the edge of the bunk and rubbed deeply at his face. Zidane let out a long sigh. His mind felt scrambled and tired. He recalled Garnet's words, her tender attitude. Had she really been there with him? Zidane had never had a vision so real and disturbing. Was it Garnet projecting to him? Zidane's boots scuffed against the floorboards as he went to the mess hall, heading directly for the wash basin in the corner. Outside the porthole, he saw the evening sun and the ocean. It had been awhile since he had experienced real sunlight. Zidane ran the cool water across his face and down the nape of his neck, snagging a towel off a nearby shelf. When he turned around, he halted, realizing Freya was sitting at one of the tables with a cup of coffee.

"Where are we?" He asked as he dabbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair.

"We're coming along the coastline for Madain Sari shortly," Freya replied, sipping from her mug. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," the anxious man said, sinking onto a bench across from her. "How's Amarant?"

"Recovering," Freya nodded. "He'll be okay after some rest. Should be able to help in the next fight. He told me Madain Sari had become a home for him and his family before the mist returned."

"A family, huh?" Zidane seemed surprised. Everyone had moved on with themselves and done something with their lives. Meanwhile, he had only stagnated. Freya saw him stewing inside his mind and stood to refresh her coffee, coming back with one for Zidane. Just before he drank from the mug, he paused and looked at the dark, steaming beverage. "You remembered I like my coffee black?"

The Dragoon smiled from where she stirred a sugar cube in. "It's hard to forget things about you."

"Where is everyone?" He looked around the vacant mess as the boat creaked.

Freya let out a curt chuckle. "Well, Liam has took it upon himself to become a skilled swordsmen. Steiner's up on the deck helping him with steps. Eiko's acting as drill sergeant, naturally." Zidane offered a weak grin as he remembered what Liam had said earlier in the day. "He's an interesting one to have with us. I certainly didn't expect Liam to come when we decided to go after Dagger."

"Well, when you love someone…" Zidane shrugged, drinking his coffee to distract himself.

Freya watched him for a beat. "He's not going to become King, Zidane." He only stared at her. "There's no coming back from what's happened, trust me," Freya told him. When Zidane stayed quiet, she sighed and shook her head. "This is all screwed up, Zidane. Don't you ever stop to think about how we got here? How it feels like something is incredibly wrong?"

Zidane finished his coffee and pushed his mug aside. "We've got bigger problems. I can clean my own messes up, Freya."

"What's gotten into you?"

Zidane pursed his lips as he pressed his elbows to the table. He bobbed his knee with an absent mind before he sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I had… this dream. At least, I think it was a dream. Dagger came to me. Told me it was time to save myself. I… I didn't even realize I was drowning so much in the life I was trying so hard to create. After Zeke died, I guess I just didn't know who I was supposed to be anymore. But now that all this shit has happened… I have to step up to the plate, Freya."

"What does that mean?" Freya asked, furrowing her brow.

"I have to stop hiding from myself. I can't keep dodging the questions and all the answers in my life. After the Mist Wars, I never thought I was good enough. Someone could have been killed and it would have been all my fault," Zidane told her tensely. "I've blamed myself for the Mist Wars for a very long time. I've altered everyone's lives. And maybe that's why I had to get away. But now I've run so far and I've found there's nothing else out here for me. The Mages and Genomes are fine without me. I thought they needed me. I needed them more, though. And now I'm realizing… I need Dagger. I need my friends. And I just can't believe you're all here now even when I turned my back on all of you."

Freya could only smile and shake her head. "You know, I remember all those years ago when Sir Fratley left in pursuit of a bigger picture. It broke me, Zidane. Everyone else saw all the cracks and misgivings I harbored. I was on track to becoming a great Dragoon. A skilled tactician. I had promise to be Burmecia's greatest asset. And I let it all go to my head, crash and burn, and I threw it away for someone I thought gave me my biggest identity. I left, too. I also turned my back on people who loved me and cared for me. I thought they didn't want me as I was. And it was years before I returned. But my old mates from the force, they did not shun me when I washed back into Burmecia. They greeted me with the same love and adoration they had all those years ago. Your case isn't any different, Zidane. You say you changed our lives, but you did for the better. In fact, we all owe you the lives we have now. I know it's hard to face the music after so long. But all those atonements you see in your head, they're not really there, Zidane."

He lowered his eyes and nodded. "I've hurt Dagger the most. I could never make it up to her. After everything she's gone through just because of me… that's the most painful, Freya."

Freya reached across the table, folding her hand over his. Zidane's bright eyes met hers. "I know the feeling, Zidane. But look at who you are, right now, in this given moment. The danger came knocking and you answered. Just like you always do."

"I just hope it's enough to save her."

"As long as you stay true to who you really are, it will," Freya told him tenderly. "Don't try to be anyone else. Just Zidane. It's the only version of you we want."

"Even after all this time?" Zidane asked.

Freya grinned. "Zidane, do you love Dagger?"

He was quiet a few beats before he nodded. "I tried so hard to tell myself otherwise. That it just wasn't possible. But I do, Freya. I love her more than anything in this world."

"Then let's do this."

…

The front door to the printing office of the Alexandrian Courier flew open and banged the wall loudly. The journalists hunched at their desk were startled by the intrusions and the young presser lifted his eyes from where he precisely stamped the parchment paper. When General Beatrix was seen, a few frightened journalists knocked ink wells over and dropped their feathered plumes. The general looked quite displeased with a face that was asking for a blood sacrifice. Beatrix slammed the door behind her, storming into the cramped, hot space that the eight journalists and two pressers shared. For as popular as the paper was, their accommodations were quite meager. There were barely any windows and the desks were arranged in a cluttered mess, just to squeeze as many as possible in. The pressing machines took up the center of the room. Because it was so warm, men only wore suspenders and buttons up and the top button of the lady's blouses were left undone. Beatrix stood as quite a force in the center of it all, drawing the presses to a complete halt. Slowly, she lifted the days old article with its glaring title.

"Who wrote this?" She demanded. The room remained silent. "I am not joking around. I am here on behalf of the Alexandrian Throne. Someone better start talking now or you can say goodbye to the fingers that give you the gift of journalism."

Nearby, a woman with dark brown hair piled atop her head and sweat plaguing her skin cleared her throat. She was pressed against the wall as she stared at the General. Beatrix only saw it so fitting. The journalists were so quick to heckle and scribble, but when it was their turn to answer the hard questions, they withdrew completely. "It was written from an anonymous tip, General. Those… those bear no credits from an author."

"Yes, I want to know where the tip came from," Beatrix sneered back. She approached the woman's desk and she gulped audibly. Beatrix slammed the article down onto the table and now withdrew her sword. Anger was manifesting and emanating away from her in the crowded hot space. The General had been having a hard time keeping secrets at bay, raising her child, pining for her husband, and keeping the gears running in the castle. She had no time for foolishness and she certainly had no patience for anyone disturbing her tasks. "Who here has been at the castle? Speak now or I will start assuming and then you will have the crown to answer to. What has been published in your papers are blatant lies. I will not stand for it. Neither will the throne." Beatrix's dark eyes scanned the room where everyone still stood motionless, holding their breath. Beatrix drove her sword into the floorboard beside her, causing some gasps to arise. "Someone here captured a poor new recruit, unfamiliar with the operations of a castle. And whatever words they said to you, I guarantee you took for a joyride and exaggerated. You stretched the truth thinner than a piece of chewed bubblegum. Maybe the throne isn't out for blood, but I am. I will not stand for libel. Especially not from a company wearing the city's name in its title."

"I… I am the one who wrote it, General Beatrix, ma'am…" A wiry young man stepped forward with disheveled blond hair that fell over pointed ears. He was pale, as if he never stepped into sunlight his entire life. He wore a wrinkled cardigan over a tunic stained in ink. "But I promise you, I did not go to the castle for this information. Someone came here, to our offices, General Miss… er… ma'am…"

Beatrix ripped her sword from the wood like it was nothing more than dirt. She quickly crossed the room and the boy backpedaled into a desk, making the ink jars jump. She grabbed him by his tunic. "Who!? Did you not think to check your sources?!"

"There's no way to…!" He exclaimed, tilting his head away from her angered face. "The castle is closed to visitors. For a period much longer than what the citizens have known. I… I took it by good faith, I'm sorry, General, ma'am…!"

"Answer my question: who told you this blasphemy!?"

"I… I don't think she gave a real name," the boy shook his head, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. "She came in a cloak and disappeared just as quick. I couldn't even tell you what she looked like. She only went by the name of Delta."

Beatrix's grip on him loosened in that moment, her eyes wide. It couldn't be, though, she reasoned in her mind. Just a year ago, Beatrix had dragged her lifeless body across the scorched garden to be counted with the rest. She had watched Steiner load her into a wagon that creaked all the way to the outskirts where the nameless graveyard rest. Her body had been dropped in a hole six feet deep, dirt scooped and poured over her. Beatrix released the young man now and paced a few feet away, staring at the assaulting title on the desk nearby. "Delta?" Beatrix finally repeated out loud, turning back to the frightened journalist. "You must have seen more beyond just her cloak. What did she look like?"

The man swallowed roughly. "Not much, honest, General… I remember she was ghastly white. Like a ghost. She looked as if she had been living in a tomb for centuries. She spoke clear-headed, though. Claimed she had once been on Squad Beatrix."

Beatrix glanced around the room of upset and fearful journalists as she sheathed her sword. She then flipped her hair over her shoulder and grabbed the paper she had brought from the desk. The dark haired lady stared at her intently, as did everyone, as her boots thumped against the floor and she came to stand by the front door. Beatrix's slender fingers came to curl around the cool brass knob. She cast one more look at them. "Think carefully about what you publish in the future. You don't want to see me again. You're the Alexandrian Courier, not the gossip mill." She then slammed the door behind her.

…

The evening air was cool when Zidane and Freya finally emerged from the mess. Zidane squinted against the bright swirling oranges and pinks as dusk began to set across the sky. The ocean gleamed in its light as it rushed back and forth against the sides of the boat. Zidane paused at the railing, staring at the sun. There was no foggy cover. He could see it in its entirety. It had been months since he'd seen the sky unobstructed. He was amazed the mist hadn't aggressively taken the whole world over yet. But something in his gut told him not to count his eggs quite yet. Zidane glanced to where Blank drank his coffee and steered the Blue Narciss Marx with ease. Despite not being able to see the Outer Continent well, Blank was well trained in using the tools on the bridge to help him navigate.

"Elbows! Watch your elbows! And your knees! For gods sake, Liam, do you wanna lose a leg?!" Eiko shouted as the young engineer and Captain held a sparring match across the deck. "What'd I say?! Tuck. Your. Elbows!"

Zidane came to stand beside Freya, who seemed quite amused despite Liam's evident exasperation. "For someone who always carries a flute on her back, she sure knows how to whip a swordsman into shape. Even if she doesn't know what she's saying, the passion is all there."

Liam spun on the balls of his feet, hoping to catch Steiner off guard and lay his sword to his shoulder. The moment he came around for the swing, however, Steiner met his sword, sending it skidding across the deck. Liam sighed and pressed his hands to his hips as he paced a few steps away. He rustled his hair for a moment before he crossed to collect his sword. The mist of the ocean sprayed against his face as he straightened up and turned towards the captain. "I caught you at the cross guard," Steiner told him. "If this was a real fight, you may have lost the ability to ever use that wrist properly again."

Liam looked to the sword in his hand, running his thumb along the knotted grooves of the grip. He then took a stance and lifted the steel. The orange dusk gleamed off of it. "Let's try again, then."

"There's such a thing as practicing too much," Steiner told him, sheathing his sword. "We should rest. We'll be there soon."

"But I'm not nearly ready," Liam protested, holding his arm out at his side. "I'll be of no use if we're trying to save Garnet from an army of the living dead."

Steiner walked to the railing, pressing his worn gloves to the smoothed wood. He watched the white capped waves drift away from the boat. "None of us know what to expect, Liam. To be honest, I don't think any of us will ever be ready enough."

Liam seemed displeased with this answer and looked across the deck. "Zidane, will you spar with me?"

The blond haired boy was silent for a few beats, listening to the ocean wash past them. He could see the engineer genuinely wanted to improve. He wanted to show everyone he could hold his own weight. In the past, in heated moments, Zidane remembered Liam freezing in the scene. Too scared to move, too scared to do anything really. Liam probably regretted that. He certainly was out of his element, that was easy to see. But Zidane could tell he was trying to adapt to the situation. He probably wanted to be Garnet's knight in shiny armor, swinging in on a rope and with one deft swoop, dispelling all the threats. It would take a lot more than a friendly spar on a boat, though. Liam needed more exposure. The only way to be unafraid of consequences and swing was just from experience.

Sheepishly, Zidane rubbed the nape of his neck. "I agree with Steiner. We need our energy and, honestly, these spars won't do much for you."

Liam sighed and pressed the sword into the leather holster on his back. "How much longer?"

"Give me ten minutes and I'll get you guys strategically lined up," Blank told him, turning a dial and pulling a chain from the bridge. "You guys will have to climb a bit, but you'll have the high grounds to stake out the situation."

The salty air lifted Eiko's hair as she peered through the thick blanket of mist. She could see the faintest inklings of the ruins of Madain Sari. It made goosebumps pucker across her skin. She remembered a time she knew where every little rock laid across the desecrated summoners grounds. When Regent Cid and Lady Hilda had offered her residence at the castle, she recalled the tearful goodbye she shared with the Moogles who decided it was also their turn to go on an adventure and see their brethren and old friends. She wondered where they all were. Eiko could only hope no where near the Outer Continent. "There's the Eidolon Wall, Blank."

"Good catch," the captain said, turning the wheel. The engines quieted as Blank shut the front half down. "I'll try to get you as close as possible. The water is deep here, though. There's no shoreline."

"No, not since Alexander," Eiko shook her head, her eyes never tearing away from the ruins of Madain Sari looming through the mist.

"What's the plan?" Liam asked, looking between the somewhat solemn and silent people.

"We get on top of the Eidolon Wall," Zidane said, coming further onto the deck past the bridge. "We have to figure out what we're dealing with."

"Could Astrid actually extract Dagger's eidolons?" Freya asked, furrowing her brow. "She's not a mage."

"She's not, but Felicia dabbles in magic," Zidane looked over his shoulder. "It's more like witchcraft, but she has an idea of how the power works."

Liam lowered his eyes as he remembered the gleaming bottle, filled with the love potion crafted by Felicia. He shuddered and shook his head. "I hope we can make quick work of them. Slash every one of their throats and pierce every heart, whether it's beating or not." Everyone on the boat paused, looking to Liam. It seemed quite dark for him. They could see his frustration, though. In a way, everyone shared it with him. But everyone there knew just how heightened Liam's feelings were. Maybe he finally wanted a conclusion, but a few wondered what was waiting for him back in their normal lives besides his shiny tools and airship engines. Perhaps Liam was grappling with that new horizon, too, and trying any means to make himself memorable in the equation. To prove to himself he wasn't just a hanger on.

"It will all go horribly wrong no matter what," Eiko said quietly. Her eyelashes fluttered as she stared at the boards beneath her feet. "Whether they're successful or not, it will kill Dagger." Steiner's muscles tightened and he turned away from the mist.

"We're not going to let that happen," Zidane replied, turning in a circle to look at his tense team. "It's not our first rodeo. Far from it. We've seen the beginning of this universe and all its inner workings. So Astrid wants to use the planet for her own wishes? Didn't we stop people who wanted the same? We have no reason to be scared. And don't believe for a second we're going to let Dagger slip through our fingers. It's completely out of the question. It's not an option at all. We will save her and we'll make this all right again. I don't know about you guys, but I'm sick of letting this world and this stupid life push me around. I'm ready to do something, dammit. And I think all of you are, too. We once learned all those years ago that life was fragile. It was a privilege. And we have to keep fighting, even when we're tired and hungry and in pain. Because the lives we share together are worth fighting for. We do this for Vivi and everyone else we've lost along the way. I'm done staying off my feet and letting the world take advantage of me. I want this life. And I want you guys in it." Freya and Steiner felt themselves smiling in that moment. There he was again. The person they were just beginning to wonder if they'd ever cross paths with again was in front of them. He was full of passion, raring to go. The faintest bits of hope were beginning to sparkle inside them. Eiko rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Zidane's hips.

"Yeah, we can do this!" Eiko declared, squeezing Zidane tightly. He brought his hand down to rest on her shoulders and they shared a smile between. Eiko's heart was practically doing back flips in her chest.

The engines hissed as they halted now and everyone looked to the bridge where Blank steadied the wheel. "We're in position."

"I'll wake Amarant," Freya said, taking a few steps. "I'd double check you have everything. Food, bandages, change of clothes. Maybe another weapon?"

Zidane nodded as he looked to his childhood friend. "And then… lets do this."

…

Several sheer white Alexandrian citizens lined at the perimeter of the circle of the Eidolon Wall. Knights of Pluto and Squad Beatrix stood the closest to where Delta, Felicia, and Astrid hovered over the motionless queen. Garnet's chest rose and fell, her scraped cheek pressed into the gravelly ground. Astrid paced a few steps and rifled in her coat for the jewel fragments she had swiped from the room beneath the deck. They gleamed in the waning sunlight. Astrid looked to the sky before she closed her hand over the gems and turned towards her sisters. Felicia knelt down and tilted Garnet's face up, inspecting her wounds. She then raised a glass bottle and swished the purple contents about. Astrid watched intently with her brow furrowed.

"And what exactly will that do, Felicia?"

She paused, pulling the bottle away from Garnet's parched lips. "It's made of forget-me-nots and sunflower oil. When you add just a bit of bone broth, it makes the user's mind more open and accepting. Even the people with the steeliest of walls surrounding their mind are susceptible to a mix like this. It will make it easier when you're trying to put the eidolons into the jewels."

"You're an evil genius," Astrid grinned. "And I love it."

"There are a lot of books on eidolons in that little hut," Felicia replied with her own smirk. "We're going to be able to make this work." Felicia then lifted Garnet's head again and tilted it back. The potion slid through her lips with no qualms. In the next moment, Garnet's entire body tensed and Felicia set her down, taking a few steps back. "It takes affect immediately. During that time, the user is stiff and not able to move much. It's more effective than truth serum. You've got maybe about half an hour, maybe a bit less."

"That's plenty of time," Astrid approached Garnet, holding her hand out with the jewel shards. "My people, my humble friends… We've been given a second chance for a reason. Gaia saw the mistake of our deaths. We've worked so hard in our lives, struggled to make ends meet, and broken our backs to find a semblance of comfort and a life worth living. We are the backbone of every nation ever born. We starve in the heat, we work through the cold. We made all the money, but it was never our own. Now is our chance to change all of that. We will become the leaders of a new, free world, a gift for those like us still stuck in the awful cycle. And we will make every snob in leather shoes and every woman in a silken blouse sorry for what they've done for us. We will show them you can't just pack us in a box and ignore us!" Her followers cheered with their excited black eyes, pumping their arms into the air. "Delta… read the incantation."

On the other side of Garnet, Delta slowly cracked open an old book full of dust with crumbling yellow pages. She licked her lips and squared her shoulders. "Eidolons of eternal life, eidolons of infinite power," she began, her voice echoing off the molting bricks. "Arise from your sleep, depart after the wait. Let there be light! Let there be life!" Short snippets of crystal blues and emerald greens began to sparkle in the air, spiraling down towards Garnet's motionless body. Astrid's eyes had grown wide and intense, but she held the jewel shards steady in front of her. "The time has come," Delta continued strongly. "The time is now!"

Garnet's eyes opened in the next beat as she began to feel light as a feather. She heard the dirt and pebbles shifting beneath her as an unknown force was beginning to life her upwards. It felt like a box of weights had been placed over her. She couldn't move or even twitch. Garnet's mind was in fragments, jumbled up, as she tried to register what was happening. A familiar burning sensation was beginning to come across her forehead and her face flushed. Garnet's heart hammered loudly in her chest as a shiver ran up her spine. Her feet and hands were growing cold, but a heat was intensifying in her gut. For a moment, she thought she was going to throw up. The pain was becoming increasingly painful and her body was under such immense stress, she was sure it was going to explode. All Garnet could do was look around. Her eyes darted in every direction before laying on the array of lights dangling above her. Extraction. Garnet hadn't been awake the first time. The hurt was becoming so unbearable, though, she didn't think she'd remain conscious through the entire ordeal. The heat was shifting up in her body, coming across her chest and scorching her throat. Why was this happening, she wanted to scream out loud. But still, she was petrified. The eidolons were her friends. They were always with her, whether she was aware or not. They defined her. They gave Garnet identity. And she was realizing how much she missed communicating with them. She understood she had brushed them aside so they had done the same to her. They couldn't leave her, however. She couldn't live without them. Garnet clenched her jaw and ground her teeth as the pain became even worse. Her bones were riveting and every vein inside her body was pulsating. Astrid was taking great pleasure in watching the mystifying event. She was beginning to feel the jewels become warm in her palm as if the eidolons were readying their new homes.

Just as Delta looked down to finish the incantation, she gasp sharply as a lancer came to spear the book. It went spiraling from her hands, spinning across the dirt ground of the Eidolon Wall. A small throwing knife then struck Astrid's hand, sending the shards clinking everywhere. Garnet crashed back to the ground, the heat instantly being released from her body. She struggled to gain control of her absent motor skills, however. All eyes went to the top of the crumbling walls. The mist drifted by in a haze as Zidane, Freya, Eiko, Steiner, and Liam were spotted, weapons drawn, and their faces pensive. At first, Astrid had been bewildered and wildly annoyed. When she saw the little stitched together team, though, she grinned and crossed her arms over her chest, completely ignoring the black oozing from her injured hand. "And so the little canary finally pokes his head out from the knot in the tree."

Zidane's wet hair from the short swim was plastered across his forehead and he raised his daggers. "Like I'd sit this one out?"

"It seems the only way to draw you out is with her," Astrid gestured to writhing queen on the ground. "My replacement."

"You've got it all wrong," Zidane replied sharply. "You were just the stand in."

Astrid's hands curled into fists and her face contorted into disgust and vengeance. "Get them!" She screamed, her voice echoing across the scene. "No mercy! No quarters!"

It took less than a second for the entirety of the Eidolon Wall to descend into utter madness and chaos.

9