Chapter 8

Night of Flames

The journey from Stillwind to Phoenix Gate was not as bad as it had felt for Clive's body. Slowly on their trek he felt his injuries from the days fighting fade. A check of his medicine pouch as he downed another potion just to be sure revealed the dire straits of his supplies. With only his two hi-potions and two regular potions left he was nearly out and were they to encounter any more beasts on their way to the gate, he was not sure if they would make it at all. Luckily for the trio, there were no such concerns on the road. They made excellent time to Phoenix Gate, enough for Wade and Tyler to join the rest of the men in the hall and partake in the food and drink.

Clive, however, was not like his companions. Where they settled into food and drink, he settled into his role as First Shield. He was right where he needed to be when Joshua snuck out of the hall, his little brother's face one of a boy with far too much on his mind than should be for his age.

"Not a fan of feasts?"

Joshua is startled, almost jumping out of his skin from Clive's sudden comment. "Clive! Don't do that! You know I don't like it when you sneak up on me."

"I haven't snuck up on you in months," he defends "Besides, you should not be out alone, not even here."

"I'm sorry…but it isn't the same in there without you."

Clive sighs, casting a glance at his feet to the snoozing Torgal "Well…I guess we all are not doing what we should be. Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"I don't know if I am ready."

"I think you just might be," Joshua looks confused at this "When I was first starting out in my training, I asked Sir Cody if he thought that I was ready, because I never thought I was. He told me that no amount of time will prepare you for that moment that seems so daunting…but just a little confidence and faith will make all the difference. Have faith in yourself first Joshua, then you can worry about everything else."

"Did that work for you? Having faith in yourself…"

Clive gave the younger boy a reassuring smile "When it came to being good enough to be your First Shield, it made all the difference."

"A little faith…so it always works?"

The question was innocent enough. Though a few moments of his own blunders where Jill was involved did push their way to the forefront of his mind. "Yes…it always does."

Joshua giggled, struggling to hide his face with his hands as Torgal stirred. "You are a terrible liar Clive! But thank you…that helped a little."

"Let's get you to bed, the morning will be long, and I do not think father would be pleased with us for falling asleep during the ceremony."

That night as Clive slept, tossing, and turning in bed, he had a dream. There was a crackling sound, a fire burning, heat building up along his body. His eyes were wide, mouth agape as he stood frozen in place. There before him was his old home. Winterfell. Burning in a great blaze of fire.

"What…what is this?"

The mighty seat of power in the North for the Starks. Burning away after so many centuries before his eyes. "This…this is impossible. Father…Lord Stark would not allow this to happen."

While Winterfell burned before him, Clive felt none of the cold chill the North was known for, nor did he feel the heat of the flames. The boy fell to his knees as the only sign of life to be seen was a girl. She was slight of frame with brown hair that looked to Clive like chocolate thread as it cascaded at her shoulders, there was a crown of winter roses atop her head and as the boy took in what details he could see he found himself drawn to her eyes. Grey eyes stared right back at him, just a slight shade brighter than his own eyes with their blend of shades looking almost blue.

As their eyes connected the scene melted away, Clive no longer kneeling before a burning Winterfell but instead kneeling before a frozen Rosalith. Great spikes of ice rose from the castle while the walls were entombed in ice. Frozen knights scattered in various states along the grounds. He could even see Sir Rex and Sir Cody frozen as if in mid battle. Lord Murdoch was on the ground, frozen solid, while true horror faced Clive at his feet. Face frozen in a look of horror, blood still wet upon the ground was the head of Elwin Rosfield.

Yet again the world around him melted away. Clive felt his heart racing as he stumbled in a field of green wild grass. Rolling hills far as his eyes could see, and a slight breeze blowing through his hair and against his skin.

"I've finally found you." Clive whirled, right hand going for his sword out of instinct and drawing the weapon. "There is no need for that."

"Who are you?"

Opposite of Clive was a man in a brown cloak and hood. He couldn't see his face, but his voice…he could hear it clear as day. How it grated on his nerves in a way he could not describe as it echoed in his mind.

"The time is still yet to come, but it draws ever closer."

"Time? For what?"

"The enemy must be defeated. But you are not strong enough yet."

"What are you talking about!?"

The man raised his left hand "You are not ready. But you will be, very soon."

The man vanished in the blink of an eye. Clive tried to look around for him, any sign of him. But he found nothing. He stood in that field even as the green fields slowly were covered in fresh white snow. There was no man, no signs of the man ever being real, and no one else but him. Clive felt the hairs on his neck stand up, a faint crunching noise slowly coming from behind him. Clive turned, feeling that heat he grew so accustomed to flicker and be replaced with a cold he had never felt before.

He dropped his sword. Slowly approaching Clive was another man, this one dressed in ancient looking armor fit for nothing but decorating a tomb, with the most piercing and cold blue eyes he had ever seen. Like Ice.

Clive awoke with a gasp, feeling that familiar heat settle in his body again. There was no Winterfell, no Rosalith and no…whatever that last one was. He was safe. He was warm again. He was at Phoenix Gate. Clive frowns, right ear twitching as he hears something in the distance…was that shouting?

"What is going on out there?" he wonders as he grabs his sword "Sounds like the men have gotten a little too deep in their cups."

There was a pounding at the door. Urgent, not likely to take no for an answer either, or very interested in breaking the door down, if need be, as the wood began to splinter. Clive stepped to the side as the door came down, a few splinters of wood flying past as a very agitated Sir Gregor stormed in.

"Apologies, lord marquess but I could not wait any longer."

"Sir Gregor…what's happening out there that has you so on edge?"

The old knight frowned, looking him in the eye as he spoke "We are under attack my lord. It's the Empire."

"Imperials? Why would they be attacking us? We are allies."

"We are unsure…but it is them, their knights have been found dead…or living until we made them dead."

Clive made for the door "Fill me in on the way, we have to ensure my father and brother are safe first."

"I already sent Sir Tyler for your father and Sir Wade for your brother." Gregor assures him, following Clive out into the hall "But this attack bodes ill for us all. They had to have known we would be here for weeks now, but the plan only was made yesterday."

"Then there is a traitor amongst us?"

Gregor shook his head. The pair rounding the corner and running int two of Sanbreque's finest "No my lord, but these snakes surely were planning this for far longer than that."

Clive gave a curt nod of his head as Gregor ran forward with a shout. The two knights turned to face the old man, readying themselves before Clive shifts and skewers the one on the left with his sword. The one on the right barely had time to turn to his fallen comrade before Gregor knocked him into a wall and drove his own blade down into the knight's body from the shoulder.

"But then who could have told them about our journey to Phoenix Gate?"

Gregor pulls his sword free with a grunt "I believe that the Imperials had a detachment waiting at our borders for someone to send a message of where we would be. Likely, this person was in the castle the entire time but who they are I could not say."

"That doesn't narrow it down any." Clive grits his teeth as the door before him refuses to budge open "It could be anyone. Any of the shields, my father, my mother, the various staff throughout Rosalith! It could be…anyone!"

He kicks the door open; the pair being assailed by the flames that awaited them on the other side. Gregor pulls the young lord back and raises his left hand, a crystal firmly grasped in it. With a single water spell, he douses the flames, clearing the way forward.

"I am not saying that any royal or shield would do this…but right now, it must be someone close to us that has sold us out. Rosaria has a traitor, and we will not rest until their head is on a pike."

"A little dark, Sir Gregor, but the sentiment is shared."

The pair continued their search for the royal party. Assisting knights of Rosaria wherever they could, guiding them to safety when needed. As they searched the castle, the flames grew hotter. Clive didn't feel the heat from them, but he felt something else inside. That heat which grew over the years. Like a drumbeat, like his heartbeat, it pulsed within him. It was growing stronger as they went further in. When they reached a particularly sturdy wood door, it felt as if that heat was trying to burst free from his body.

"All of this for some selfish reasons," he mutters, slamming his shoulder into the door "And for what? A few hundred gil? A thousand? They would sell out their countrymen for…for a prize!?"

Gregor joined Clive on the second attempt. The two shared a look and a nod. Gregor gave the door a solid kick while Clive backed up for some distance. The boy ran forward, throwing his shoulder into the door and knocking it open. He rolled forward, stopping himself just short of barreling into Sir Wade.

"L-lord marquess?"

"Clive!"

Gregor came in just as the brothers reunited. Clive fussing over his younger brother's safety despite the situation itself being rather dire. As the old knight approached them, Sir Wade stood rigid in place. "None of that lad." He says with a tired sigh "Now, what's the situation here?"

"It's Sir Tyler…his wounds were deep before the young lord attempted to heal him but…I do not think we can move him just yet."

"I'll be the judge of that," the old knight kneels by the wounded mans side. Tyler offers a pained smile as Gregor checks his injuries "Hmm…it is still deep, but part of it has healed. No potions on you lot?"

"None, sir!"

Tyler coughs, wincing as he tries to speak "Used the last of them to repair what damage it could…would be dead if I…hadn't."

"I see…right then, you drink this and do not take it slow either," Gregor hands a rather large bottle to Tyler "I only have the one on me, so you best not waste this second chance."

"Sir Gregor I…"

"Don't want to hear it lad. Drink that elixir and get back on your feet."

Sir Tyler looked ready to keep protesting this choice when two more sets of boots joined their little group. "I would do as he says, Sir Gregor is not one known for his…relenting, nature."

"Father!" Joshua cries, running up to Elwin, all but throwing himself at the man as he wraps his arms around his waist "You're alive! I thought that…"

"Easy, Lord Murdoch and I are fine Joshua, as are you all." Elwin's eyes roam over each of the men before him "You have done well, but unfortunately this fight is not over yet."

Murdoch and Gregor share a look while Tyler drinks himself back to health again "Well done Sir Wade, you kept the young lord alive all on your own…you truly are a shield of the duchy."

"Th-thank you my lord."

Clive stepped past Gregor and Tyler, pressing his body up against the courtyard door. He could not hear anyone on the other side, least not right now…he pushes the door open, just enough to get a look outside. "This way is clear," he says to the group "Come, quickly, we cannot stay here any longer than needed."

"Clive is right," Elwin agrees firmly "We have to leave while we still can."

"Not just that…we need a diversion," Gregor observes "All of us trying to flee would draw too much attention, but if we split up then one party can fee while the other gets all those Imperial bastard's eyes on them."

"Who do you suggest is the distraction then?" Rodney folded his arms "Because I cannot in good faith entrust the distraction to just yourself, Sir Gregor."

"Always were too loyal for your own good Rodney."

"I volunteer," Clive steps up first "Sir Tyler and Wade can get my father and Joshua to safety while we three draw the enemy to the North Gate. From there it should be easy for them to slip south and return to Rosalith."

"No!" Joshua protests "I'm not going without you Clive! You are my shield, remember?"

Clive kneels, looking his brother in the eye "I remember. But it is my duty as your shield to ensure your safety and right now the best way that I can is to draw the attention away from you and father. I'm entrusting his safety to you, little brother. Can you do that for me?"

"But…"

"I must do my duty. As must you. I'm counting on you, Joshua, to keep him safe." Clive smiles, lightly messing up the boy's hair "I believe in you, not the Phoenix, but you Joshua. Understand?"

"I…yes, Clive."

"We will wait for you at the southern gate," Elwin says, gently placing a hand on both of his sons' shoulders "We wont wait forever, you know this. Do not delay, but do not be reckless either."

Clive smiles "How can I be reckless? Sir Rex is still in Rosalith driving Cody up the walls."

Elwin laughs "Yes…Clive, walk tall, my son."

"As you wish, father."

Rodney and Gregor stayed back as Tyler and Wade went out the door first followed by the Archduke and his son. Both knights shared a look, tonight would be a trial for all involved, and there was no promise that they would not lose someone before the night was over.

Clive turned his attention to the two knights left with him. Rodney and Gregor gave the Rosarian salute and a silent vow to fight till the end with him. Turning back to the doors that lead to the main hall, Clive pushed onward, the smell of blood and death greeting the trio as a group of seven Imperial Knights awaited them.

"Survivors? Get them lads!"

The knights charged. Sir Gregor grinned as Clive vanished from sight, reappearing in their midst, a pair of phoenix wings sprouting from his back. They never stood a chance as they were pulled in towards the boy and then scattered into the walls with such force. The sergeant in charge took a few steps back, watching as the boy that just trounced his men hardly looked to be struggling to stand.

"He…he can't be the Dominant…the Dominant...the Phoenix is but a boy still!"

"You are correct," Rodney speaks up as he approaches the fearful knight "That is the First Shield of Rosaria, Clive Rosfield and you…are no longer anyone of note."

The knight gasps, a sword driven through his chest. Lord Murdoch pushes his corpse off his blade, watching it slide down against the wall.

"We make for the northern courtyard," Clive says as he approaches the doors "Sir Gregor, Lord Murdoch, try to keep up if you can."

"Lord or not, the little shit is asking for it now." Gregor growls as he follows his lord out into the hall once more.

Rodney surveys the damage. He could count fifteen bodies in the room, only seven of them being Imperials. "Vipers…have they no honor for treaties?"

The trio had no such luck in finding their own men. It seems that many had tried to come this way and met a grim fate in the end. For each body they found in Rosarian colors, Clive would kill two Imperials to make up for it. That heat was within him again, burning inside, a raging inferno fed by his anger. The more he saw, the more rage he felt for the Empire. Gregor led the way out into the courtyard, pushing the great oak doors apart and taking that first step out into the open.

"This looks like trouble," he mutters as he spies the Imperials waiting for them.

Two knights, a spell caster, and their captain; all of them taking their time with finishing off a poor Shield of Rosaria. The knights drew their swords, turning toward their captain for orders as the trio approached ready for a fight.

"Don't just stand their gawking at me lads, kill them!"

Clive gripped his sword a little tighter "No quarter."

"As you command," Rodney says.

"We can handle the small fry, you take care of that mage," Gregor barks, already moving to intercept an unlucky knight.

Clive warps to the mage, splitting his staff in one swing and kicking him in the chest. The man hits the ground, cowering at the young shields feet before having a sword lunged into his gut. Clive was not in a bargaining mood this night. Gregor and Rodney kept their foes entertained, locking blades with them but once before pushing them back. They kept on the defensive as the pair came back in. Gregor, however, had no patience for it, the older knight sidestepped his foe and brought his sword up, slicing the Imperial across the stomach and watching his body fall like a sack of grain.

Lord Murdoch knocked his own foe off balance, making him stumble before he too was cut down like his comrade. That just left the captain of these men to Clive's tender care. The boy shifted to him, a flaming fist and phoenix wing sending the poor man into the air and back down as a lifeless corpse.

"That was…easier than expected," Gregor notes, disappointment heavy in his voice "For all the dead out here…you would think there were more of them."

"They probably sent the others to secure the south gate…we should hurry, the Archduke could be in trouble," Rodney had the right idea. Clive, however, sensed something else. He could not explain it, but he knew this wasn't over. It was too easy as Gregor had said…but this was something else. Something more was at work here.

Clive rolled, moving back towards the safety of his allies as a silver clad knight fell from the heavens. A mighty lance impacting the ground before its master bounced back onto his feet.

"Shall I have this dance?" the new knight asks, lance at the ready "I'll be sure to make it a fitting end for you all."

"Imperial Dragoons," Clive sighs "Still think this is too easy for you Sir Gregor?"

Gregor huffs, hefting his sword up "How about we just kill this one, and then we can be snarky if we please."

"Would our distinguished partner in this dance care to share his name?" The pair turned to Lord Murdoch, a cheeky grin in place as he readies his sword "What? You both were bickering like children, and I would like to see where this goes."

"You Rosarian dogs have the honor of facing the Knight of the Blinding Dawn," the Dragoon twirls his lance, bending his knees as he prepares for battle "Now, try to keep me entertained."

Clive felt his body move on instinct, rolling out of the way and narrowly avoiding the tip of the lance as the dragoon of too long a title surged forward. "He's fast!"

"He's an Imperial Dragoon!" Gregor shouts back, blocking a swing from the lance with his sword "If you weren't fast, you weren't picked; that still how they do it in Sanbreque?"

"What would you know of our army!?"

Gregor pushes the knight back, "I know that the emperor himself is an arrogant fool who thinks the world should bow to him and him alone."

The Dragoon snarls, leaping into the air. Lord Murdoch and Clive dove for cover as he came back down. Sir Gregor, however, did not, the old knight just stood his ground, barely moving out of the way of that lance before punching his foe in the chest. With the lance discarded the Dragoon was vulnerable in a fight now.

"Clive!"

Wasting no time, Clive prepped a fireball in his left hand; the mighty orb was hurled just as the Dragoon got back to his feet. The impact yet again knocking him onto his back just as Rodney and Gregor rushed him. The two older knights thought they would have an easy execution now, what they did not predict was for the Dragoon to have assistance in the form of an aevis. The mighty draconic creature swooped in, knocking both knights off their feet, and buying its rider a chance to get back onto his.

"Always something," Gregor groans as he rises "Now there's that monster to deal with."

"We can't stay here for too long; we must take one of them down before the other can strike us instead."

Clive eyed the beast warily. He still felt the heat inside himself, but as he looked at the aevis he felt something akin to familiarity. Shaking the thoughts loose from his head he locked his eyes on the Dragoon "Sir Gregor, Lord Murdoch, if the two of you can keep that aevis occupied, I might just be able to finish our Dragoon friend here."

Gregor chuckles "Wouldn't be the first time we had to kill an aevis, you still remember how it's done Rodney?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have grown soft as Lord Commander."

"Can we focus!?" Clive snaps at the two bickering men "Neither will give us the time to argue, so keep it to yourselves, and kill that aevis!"

The aevis and its rider both charged. Clive brought his sword up, parrying the lance with a glancing strike, while Gregor and Rodney dove out of the way of the aevis sharp claws. The First Shield of Rosaria glared at the much older and experienced Dragoon.

"Ready for your final dance, boy?"

"Only if you are ready for yours," Clive responds in an even tone, flames flickering around his left arm "Let's end this."

The Dragoon charged, swinging his lance with a speed and grace unmatched by most in Rosaria. Clive for his part blocked most of the strikes, rolling out of the way of any he could not before lashing out at the Dragoon. Whatever their armor was made of Clive had to admit, it was very durable. The metal didn't dent easily nor did his sword cut through it with the ease Clive had been expecting. The Dragoon took a sword swing to his left side, not a scratch showing on his armor.

"You will be at this far longer than I will boy, my armor will not falter to a common Rosarian sword."

Clive smirks, readying himself for another go "How about a First Shield's blade then?"

There was a screech off to the right. Gregor and Rodney doing their best to keep the aevis' attention on two targets at once. Gregor proved the better distraction as the beast kept its eyes on the old man.

"Any time now Rodney!" Gregor brings his sword up, the aevis biting down on as it tries to get at his head "I can't keep him entertained forever!"

"Just hold him there for a moment more!"

"I don't have a moment boy!"

True to form, Lord Murdoch got the opening he needed as the pair struggled with one another. The aevis snapped its jaws, the metal of Gregor's sword straining under the force of those jaws. Rodney readied his blade as he lined up with the beast's back and broke out into a sprint. The Lord Commander of Rosalith leaped into the air and drove his sword into the creatures back. As the aevis relinquished its hold of Gregor's weapon, the old knight brought the blade up in a single stroke. Taking its head.

"That wasn't so bad," Rodney comments as the beast's body slumps against the ground "Just like old times."

"You took your time. Could have been finished sooner had you not."

"We killed it didn't we?"

Gregor glared at the younger man, the sound of clashing metal drawing their attention to their young charge. Clive traded blows with he Dragoon again and again, leaving smaller cuts along the Dragoons legs and back. As the Dragoon stumbled, rising to his full height yet again Clive knew this fight was over.

"You fight well for one so young…you would have made a great Dragoon…were you not of Rosarian blood."

Clive smirks, bringing his blade up one last time "Well…were you from Rosaria you might be a noble knight. Unfortunate then, that you serve a corrupt empire."

The Dragoon charged; lance thrust forward. Clive brought his blade down, igniting it just before impact, and cut the imperial weapon in two. As the Dragoon's body kept moving forward, the boy brough this left hand up and unleashed the gathered Aether into his chest. The Knight of the Blinding Dawn fell back, body hitting the ground with a scorched hole in his chest.

"Well…that is one way to end it," Gregor says as he steps up beside the young knight "Nice work, my lord."

"We can rule out capture being their objective for us," Clive sighs "They were here to take heads, not capture any of us or the castle. We should return to my father, best we do not stick around now that most of what's left will come running."

"My lord…"

"What is it, Lord Murdoch?" Clive stops as Rodney holds out a bloodied white sash with the symbol of Rosaria stitched into it "What…"

"These were issued but yesterday…Rodney…you don't think…"

"I do, Sir Gregor," Rodney glares at the sash in his hand "If they have these then there were likely spies within our ranks, but…for them to be installed in our own shields would mean…"

"That they were in place for months if not years." Clive glares at the body of the dragoon "My father and Joshua…they're in danger!"

"We must hurry, if you have a steed then summon it now lads!" Sir Gregor was already off and running towards the south gate, Rodney following close behind him while Clive brought his fingers to his lips and whistled for Ambrosia.

There was no immediate response to the whistle. Clive, however, winced as he felt a pain in his head he had not felt for some time. As the pain fades, he shakes his head "What…what was that?"

His eyes refocus, looking ahead, and freeze. His lips felt dry as he stares at that man from his dreams, the one in the cloak here in the flesh. But why now? Why here? Clive reached forward; in the blink of an eye the man was gone leaving nothing but rubble in his wake.

"I don't have time to worry about dreams…I need to get to the south gate."

"My lord!"

Clive turned, his eyes widening as he saw what Sir Gregor was shouting about. There, hovering in the air and in its full flaming glory was the Phoenix. The great guardian Eikon of Rosaria. 'Master of Life and Death' he had joked a few times with Joshua. But it shouldn't be here…Joshua wouldn't just turn for no reason unless he…

"Joshua!" Clive runs forward, Lord Murdoch catching him before he can get past "Let me go! I must help him…I must do something!"

"My lord! There is nothing you can do!" Rodney holds him steady "If he has turned into the Eikon then we are in danger here! Your brother has never done this before my lord, he does not have control!"

"The poor kid is going to burn this place to the ground himself now." Gregor shakes his head "Not much that we can do really."

The Phoenix wails, Aether gathering near its chest, and unleashes a torrent of fire balls. A few of the unlucky who are in their path perish in an instant from the flames. Among them, some of the few loyal shields of Rosaria that still yet remained alive.

"I have to save him…I have to do my duty."

Rodney slapped the boy at that one, drawing a cry of surprise from Clive "Your duty now is to help us return to Rosalith. Unless you can become an Eikon as well, I do not think it wise to try and fight one such as the Phoenix as you are right now."

"He's right," Gregor agrees "Which is why it's a good thing that you are in charge my lord, and I am far more experienced than you both."

Rodney narrows his eyes at the older man "Just what are you planning now Gregor?"

Clive breaks free of Lord Murdoch's grasp with the momentary distraction of Gregor and breaks off into a run. A stray fireball strikes the castle, chunks of rock falling from above, nearly crushing Clive a few times. Before the boy could reach the doors, and possibly be protected inside, he found his feet leaving the ground. Clive was swinging side to side as his body was jerked around to safety as more debris rained down. He saw the briefest hint of white feathers before he was unceremoniously thrown to the ground.

"Damn it, Clive!"

Clive groans as he gets up. His head was pounding just a little but that was nothing compared to what his heart was feeling. Laying on the ground before him, with a bad wound to her left eye was Ambrosia. "Ambrosia…you brave bird…you shouldn't have done that girl but I…I am grateful for it."

"Any more reckless stunts, my lord?" Gregor asks with a bit of humor to his voice "Your father will be most upset if you get hurt doing any of that again."

"Father…" Clive looks up at the Phoenix, still present and out of control "Lord Murdoch!"

"My lord?"

"Get Ambrosia on her feet, then escort her to Rosalith posthaste! Sir Gregor and I will follow you but only after we calm Joshua down."

"But that…that's suicide!" Rodney protests, already helping the chocobo up "If you both do this…there is no guarantee that either of you will return at all!"

"Relax Rodney, I'll take care of the boy. You just get the bird back in one piece and hold the castle until we return." Gregor waves him off, standing shoulder to shoulder with Clive "You know me, I will die before the young lord ever does. That is our vow, yes?"

Rodney looked ready to protest further but the single look he received from that boy he had first met all those years ago in that little town stopped him. He was no longer that same small child still in shock over his first kill. He was a young man, a knight, ready to do his duty for the Duchy. "Very well, but I shall only lead Rosaria until your return. No more and no less my lord!"

Clive gave a faint smile as he watched them go. With Gregor by his side, he felt more confident this might not be a completely bad idea. Long as Lord Murdoch made it to Rosalith in one piece that is. "Are you still with me, Sir Gregor?"

"Till the end, my lord."

"Alright then…let's try to calm a phoenix." Clive gasps. Dropping to his knees, fingers clutching at his head as the pain sets in "Argh! Not. Now! Come on! On your feet. You are his shield. Do your Duty! Aaarrghh!"

Gregor was by the boy's side in an instant, hands moving to grab him by the arms and hoist him up "Come on Clive, on your feet lad!"

There was a sudden chill in the air. Not the absence of flames, no…this was different. Gregor could not feel the flames at all. Not a single feeling of the heat from the Phoenix overhead, nor the fires raging in the castle. Sir Gregor looked straight ahead at the flames themselves. Still burning away, and yet not a danger. Not the danger.

"My lord…"

Clive winced through the pain, casting a glance to his right he saw that same hooded man again. It was Sir Gregor's call that made him try to look at his brother. Watching as the flames coalesced together, stitching a humanoid body out of fire with burning yellow eyes. Clive felt his world go dark as he collapsed.

The burning man's eyes flashed but once. A column of fire rose where he stood. The force of the sudden explosion knocked Sir Gregor onto his back as he watched a mighty beast rise in the man's place. The knight got to his feet, casting a quick glance at the unconscious body of his charge before returning his gaze to the Eikon before him.

"A second Eikon of Fire…but that should be…that's impossible." The great beast with its rocky skin and magma made flesh reared its head back and roared. The flames it created flickered across its body before with its roar they burst outward bathing the castle in fire. Sir Gregor smiled as he saw the flames push past Clive's body, grateful in his final moments that the boy might just live before darkness took him.

Throughout Clive's slumber nothing would wake him. Not the clash of Eikons above him nor the destruction these two beasts waged in the Apodytery. Many knights fled Phoenix Gate in fear of what they had witnessed, some unfortunate enough to be crushed beneath the Dark Eikon's body would not get to tell of what happened, only those fortunate enough to be a safe distance away could claim such a right as to spread word of this Night of Flames.

There was however one sound that did awaken Clive. His vision, blurred as it was, returned to him. He was standing on a hilltop surrounded by trees, watching the Phoenix struggle with this great flaming beast. This abomination to all that they knew.

"Joshua!" he heard a bark as he shouted his brother's name. "Torgal? Torgal, run home boy! You shouldn't be here!"

He heard more barking but saw no sign of his trusted puppy. What he could see…he wished he could forget. This Dark Eikon…whatever it was, whoever it was…it leaped into the air, grabbing the Phoenix, and dragging it back to the ground with its own weight. Clive found his legs would not move, forced to stand by and watch as this great infernal monster began to pummel its fists into the Phoenix. Again and again, he winced as he heard the shrieking calls of the Phoenix. His brother…his brother was in danger, and he could do nothing to stop his attacker.

"Stop this…stop this, please!" he cries out "Get your hands…off my brother!"

As the infernal Eikon roars in its victory Clive watches as the Phoenix tries one last gambit. A solid beam of Aether, of fire, strikes the infernal monster in the head. One final shot to free itself…all for naught. The infernal Eikon lowers its head, jaws clamping around the Phoenix's beak. Clive watches as its body begins to heat up, flames flickering to life all around its body. The Eikon stands, rearing its arm back and thrusting it forward through the Phoenix's body before unleashing those flames in a great and powerful explosion.

"Joshua!" the roar of the explosion echoes throughout the surrounding lands. Clive barely even hears Torgal's whimpers over the sound of the rushing wind. He takes a step forward, feeling weak as he glares at the remains of Phoenix Gate. At the infernal Eikon as it roars yet again. "Murderer… I'll kill you…I'll fucking kill you!"

As the fighting had died in the night, flames left as little but flickering embers, the rain began. Between the glimpses he saw of the Phoenix, his brother, fighting another Eikon of Fire, Clive Rosfield knew nothing but darkness. Passed out in the rubble of Phoenix Gate. Forgotten by the survivors who wandered in the night for Rosalith and left unfound by his own trusty pup. Clive knew only what he had seen.

His brother was dead. And it was by the hands of an Eikon of Fire.

While the lord marquess lay unconscious in the rubble there was still life within Phoenix Gate. A single pup barked and whined as it scoured the ruins of the battlefield for its master, following his scent as best it could in search of him…but it never found him. Torgal whined and whimpered as he found no sign of his master. The little pups nose however still twitched as the rain washed away all the scents around…all but one scent.

A single body dressed in red, a faint scent of blood being washed away by the rain, with a dark blonde head of hair. The puppy nuzzled the boy's face, trying to get a reaction from him but to no avail, the boy did not stir. Torgal curled up beside the boy as the rain continued to fall. The storm raged on around him, almost silencing the footsteps his little ears heard through it all. Torgal got up, growling at the approaching stranger.

"It's alright, I'm not here to hurt you little fella," the voice was gruff and rugged, it reminded the puppy of some of the blacksmiths hi master would go to "I'm just here to help if I can…by the looks of it, I might not be too late."

The man kneels besides the body, rolling the boy over with a delicate ease. Torgal hops onto the boy's chest, barking up at the man indignantly. Daring him to try anything.

"Not the most trusting of pups, are you? That's alright, your master needs someone like you to protect him. Just not from me, obviously." He gently moves the puppy aside and picks the boy up, slinging him over his shoulder "Well? Come on then, I doubt you will want to be out here all night alone…and I might know an old woman who could use a little one to watch over, might even make her somewhat cheery."

Torgal barks in response, following his charge and the man.

"Got a name little fella?" he gets a bark in response "Right…well, I suppose I'll have to ask your master here when he wakes up. Name's Cidolphus Telamon, at your service…course if you somehow manage it, you can call me Cid."

Torgal followed the man, every few feet glancing back at Phoenix Gate until it was no longer within his sight. Every tiny step forward and the puppy couldn't help but wonder if his master was still alive in the ruins he left behind.

Hours passed after the fighting stopped. Slowly the sun rose in the east, dawn breaking through the clouds but not stopping the rain. It was to a scene of death and destruction that knights of Sanbreque arrived to. Phoenix gate in ruins, burnt by the Phoenix's flames and reduced to not but rubble and bloodied corpses.

"Spread out," the captain orders "Any Rosarian still lives, kill him. If you find one of ours, dig them out."

The captain watched his men scour the ruins. Swords being driven home into a duchal knight's body while a few worked together to retrieve a survivor of their own. Reports could wait until their wounds had been treated. No doubt Emperor Sylvestre would be displeased with the results but not without some gains of course.

"Flames must have killed off most of them…shame about the Phoenix though, but it can't be helped." He chuckles, coughing as he remembers just who it is that has accompanied them here. "Apologies your grace…is there aught we can do?"

Anabella Rosfield, once a proud and elegant noblewoman of Rosaria was a shell of her former self. Her face once adorned with a kind smile and eyes that shined in the light now bore a cold expression and eyes as dead as those found on any corpse. Not a tear to be shed as she observed the blood, all the death and destruction around her. Not even the begging cries for help from her own kinsman could turn her head to them, make her order mercy for them before their lives were cut short.

"That will be all captain," the ever-authoritarian voice of her father Gerald Cole spoke up for her "My daughter has just lost her husband and both of her sons…surely, you can understand she is not in a speaking mood."

"Right, you are my lord, my apologies to her ladyship."

"Captain! We have a live one here!"

The captain approaches two of his men examining a body "What is it? You know your orders, kill the cur and be done with it."

"It is no ordinary cur, this is Clive Rosfield, her eldest son."

The captain lightly pushes the body with his foot. The boy did match what he had been told…but his emperor would have a fit if he followed his orders now. "Your Grace? We found your son, the eldest boy. It appears the flames must have missed him, his body no doubt shielded by the rubble he was buried in."

For a moment as they approached there was a change. Gerald's face twisted in disgust. Of course, that one would survive where Elwin and Joshua had failed to. Beside him, Anabella had a different reaction. Not one of disgust, but of something far more intense. Her eyes narrowed to his body, taking in Clive's survival for herself.

"Shall we take him prisoner?"

"You know your orders captain, there are no prisoners here, kill him." She turns, waving her hand in dismissal. The captain sighs, silently apologizing for having to kill one so young and in such an undignified way as this. He raises his blade, ready to make the plunge. "Wait! As my…husband…was so fond of telling me…he would make a fine soldier. All in its right place."

Gerald scowls as the captain lowers his weapon. Anabella had been so willing the day before, and now here she was sparing that…that bastard's life!? This would not do, not do at all. As Gerald followed his daughter from the grisly scenes around them, he gave a wave of his hand, signaling two knights to step forward and execute his daughter's attendants. No need for witnesses to exist.

As Anabella walked away, her face a cold mask of indifference, there was one imperfection among her carefully crafted persona. A single tear slid slowly down her cheek. The captain let the nobles make their exit, inspecting the young knight they had forcibly recruited. "You won't be going to the front with the riffraff, chin up lad…you are going to be an Imperial Knight."

Clive stirred for a moment, eyes drifting open and shut once more, shedding a single tear, and muttering a single word through the haze. "Joshua."

AN: So…show of hands, who did not see any of that coming? Y'know…besides the obvious canon parts. No one? Anyone? Some one? Let's chat: Beginning is short, because I both did not know where to put Sir Gregor in the feast scene and I also felt that Joshua and Clive having their moment was more important than the songs and drinking. The nightmare/dream sequence for Clive is not only a hint for all of you so you are kind of going in the right direction with your predictions but also to serve as a warning for Clive of what is to come or what could happen should he fail. Not revealing all of that immediately so lock it nice and tight in your mental vaults because that is not important for the immediate future…for now. Phoenix Gate incident…oh boy. I did not cover Elwin's uh…Ned Stark moment, if only because that is one of those scenes that I feel the game designers did perfectly and I don't want to damage it with my own interpretation nor did I want to rewrite verbatim because that is not fun at all. A couple of key things have changed in the realms though, so that is always fun and exciting. And we bid farewell to our first Clone turned knight…because yes, as ao3 figured out there be Clones used for knights in this fic because yes, it works. Sir Gregor is well and truly dead in place of Lord Murdoch here. Don't worry, we still have Rex, Cody, Colt, and Thorn…for now. Anyone with some knowledge of GoT will know what happened there at the end of it all for Clive at last partly, but if you don't know then do not worry for that will be explained in the future. As for the other part…well, someone is bound to figure it out, but already have plans to explain it. I would hope that Cid's introduction/rescue was not anticipated, but then again someone will say they saw it coming. So yeah…Undying do exist still, but they are not the group that saves Joshua. Cid is. At this point, either you know full well just what is going on with Anabella or you don't because ladies and gentlemen…the version I created at the start has officially left the building for good…unless I change my mind because that single tear was her saying goodbye.

Before the reviews…this whole chapter minus the authors note is over 7 thousand words…pretty sure we just hit our longest yet but, no time for that…to the reviews! …which are kind of lacking so far in number…odd.

InfinityMask: Ok…how to explain this? Well…chapter 7 should have revealed just who sent the bandits in chapter 6, so give that a read if you haven't already done so. The timeline in Westeros is still on course for the most part. Due to taking Jon out of that storyline for the most part has shifted some characters around as well as their traits etc. The vast majority are the same or at least line up as such, but others are having to shift things around. In the case of when Robert Baratheon rides north to make Ned his Hand of the King? That will be coming up in the next 13 or so years…so you'll see how it's changed. Clive being Bahamut…that will not be happening. Sorry to disappoint but that is not in the cards as Dion Lesage is a fine Bahamut…and it would make no sense for the plot I have in mind if he became Ifrit instead.

furvustocs: No harm done. I wont notice everything as the writer because well…it's my writing. I might be critical of it or some such, but things do lip past. So, for you, and any reader who even reads my responses here, please let me know if you spot something. Send me a DM showing where the error is, if it is an error, so that I can fix it. As for the story, glad you are still enjoying it. And hopefully this chapter did not destroy too much of your favorite characters list…there's a lot more to come in the future though so be prepared to say goodbye.