Chapter 9

The Prince who was Branded

Seven years. That's how long it had been since Phoenix Gate. Since the Empire took him prisoner. While to the people around him he was but a soldier in the Imperial Legion, Clive knew the truth, he was a prisoner. He had awoken enroute to Oriflamme, riding in a cart of hay with an escort of Imperial Dragoons and knights riding alongside and behind. This was how he started the next chapter of his life. Smelling of hay and chocobo.

His stay in Oriflamme was quick. Brought to the Imperial Garrison to be outfitted in his new armor. His sword, forged personally for his use after their trip to Westeros, was melted down and replaced with a 'fine Imperial Steel' sword that would also be replaced every few days as none of their materials could withstand his own techniques. Clive was held in the capital for a week before being shipped out a short distance to Northreach. Defending the gateway to the empire's heart was a far more noble purpose than fighting on the frontlines to die in their pointless wars.

Clive often wondered why he wasn't deployed elsewhere. But it dawned on him that if he were to be sent closer to Rosaria that he might flee across the border when they weren't looking. Were he to be deployed near the Republic's borders he might even make a run for it in the chaos and confusion of war. They were smart to keep him close, but they had no idea just what he was capable of.

There was little to do in Northreach as it was. No war ever came close, just bandits and the occasional hunt. Speaking of which, Clive was getting tired of being the older one to go exterminate groups of monsters that were encroaching on their territory here. The knights in the town were brave enough but none of them seemed to be willing to do the dirty jobs that needed doing. Whether it was wiping out a bandit camp, hunting down savage beasts in the wilds, or assisting the citizens of Northreach. Clive wasn't one to shy away from a job.

"Clive, there you are." Speaking of jobs, it looked like the Dame had one for him. The Dame was a mysterious woman. Beautiful, he would admit, though she made his heart yearn for someone else in his long years of captivity. "I have a job for you."

"Of course, you do," he sighs, folding his arms "What will it be this time, hm? Another knight requiring a lesson in proper decorum? Perhaps your girls yet again have need for a bodyguard while they walk around town?"

"Nothing so mundane as that," she smiles. A look that had many men feeling weak in the knees but for Clive made him feel uneasy. "I have a meeting with a few of the…officials, in town but I also have a package I was supposed to deliver to a friend of mine. If you would be so kind as to deliver it, I could make it worth your while."

Clive scowls, accepting the parcel "Not even on your best day would that work, Dame or not, I have a stronger will than that."

"A pity, I could make it quite enjoyable if you would just give in."

Clive took a deep breath to keep his composure. Twenty-two years of age had done little to prepare him for the advances of this woman. Courtesans were easy to work around and avoid. The Dame was something much worse than them. "I shall see that this is delivered posthaste…where can I find this friend of yours?"

"He should be in the market on the south side of town. Do you still carry my mark? He will recognize you well enough with it."

"Of course," he responds, "There will be no mistake, I assure you."

"Good, I can always count on you Clive."

As the Dame walks away Clive cannot help but shudder. With his reputation in Northreach it was not so strange for the women to give him wanting looks. A young man, capable soldier, willing to do whatever job was needed to be done. It was the one thing all the men agreed they envied of him. If they only knew how he wished the women would look at them instead of him. It was more attention than he had ever thought of receiving…at least from any that weren't her.

Clive shook his head as he walked. He need not dwell on the past. On what could have been. Whether he liked it or not he was a knight for the Empire of Sanbreque. Not a prince of Rosaria, and certainly not First Shield either. Those days were gone. Dead just like those lost at Phoenix Gate. Like Joshua. The market was bustling with life as he made his way through. All the traffic that came through Northreach ensured that the merchants and traders always had gil to make from weary or gullible travelers. The town was no doubt one of the richest with its plans.

Travelers would arrive seeking something in the capital just to be waylaid in Northreach and beset by eager merchants like a pack of wolves sensing an easy kill. Gil would be spent just to keep the vultures away, then spent again at the Inn and the Pub, and finally some poor sap gets drained of the last of his gil by the merchant the following morning as they try to leave town. Clive never tried to get between a merchant and a sale. Was never good for one's health if they did that.

"Now…where is this 'friend' the Dame mentioned?" Clive takes a slow walk around the market stalls, waving at some of the friendlier merchants, and avoiding the pushier of the lot "If they are out in all of this…odds are I won't see them until they run out of gil."

"Or you could turn around," came a voice, a northern accent carried upon the words spoken. Clive whirled, ready to draw his sword as the blonde man before him raised his hands in surrender "It's alright! Didn't mean to startle you…should have known though…Dame chose you; you must be good. Name's Gav, at your service."

"Gav…your package, compliments from the Dame," he says, handing Gav the parcel "She would have been here herself but had other business to attend to."

"Ah…right then, I'll just take this and be on my way then. Give my uh…best, to the Dame then?"

Clive's eyes narrowed as Gav took the parcel and slowly began to walk away. He carried himself with an experienced step and yet he acted almost concerned to see him of all people present and not the Dame. Something didn't feel right about this, but it was not his place to question. It was the Dame's business, and hers alone.

Over the next four days, life in Northreach became increasingly dull. Word had spread of Rosaria being raided by the Crusaders. No one spoke of Rosalith falling, nor Port Isolde, but Clive could not help but worry that what remained of his friends and family were in danger. While word of the western coast of Valisthea was grim and full of turmoil, news from the east was more promising. Waloed was gearing up for something big. No one knew what, all that the few snippets of news he could hear had talked about was royalist forces gathering along their shores, but none could determine if it was for an invasion or to defend their own kingdom.

"Alright you lot, settle down," the captain of the town guard, a man named Jarden, calls to the gathering of knights before him "Now…we have reports of bandits moving in from the southwest, attacking traders along the road. Caer Norvent also has a supply request that needs filling, and finally there have been reports of a savage beast attacking livestock around Moore. Don't you all jump up at once, I require volunteers first for these jobs before I start selecting you lot by lottery."

There was a clamor as men tried to volunteer for the easy jobs. Clive never paid those any mind. One man however caught his eye. He was just a little older than Clive himself, but unlike the rest of the knights he was not afraid to get his hands dirty. In fact, besides Clive, he was the only other one to volunteer for the dangerous jobs without hesitation.

"Looks like it will be you and I to hunt down the beast then Clive."

Clive smirks "You almost sound bored Phillipe, guessing the Dame has yet to return your affections?"

Philippe looks sheepish "Yes well…pleasing her is no easy feat, we can't all be blessed to have her favor and yet not seek hers." The man smiles slyly "She must be quite the lady to keep our resident hero so interested."

"I don't know what you are talking about." It was always like this. It was no secret the Dame had shown an interest in Clive, nor was it a secret that he had yet to accept whatever offer she had made. Many a man had hounded him for information, demanded to know why he would turn down a woman like the Dame. He never said a word and let their minds do all the work for him. It was only a matter of time before someone like Philippe got to the right conclusion. There was a woman who already had his heart.

"One of these days you are going to tell me," Philippe chuckles "Perhaps then I could get the Dame's attention?"

"Perhaps," Clive raises his hand as the captain gets to the harder job on the days list "But for that to happen, you must not die. Course if you did…I suppose I could comfort the Dame myself."

"That a challenge?"

Clive shrugs "Take it how you will. For right now though, we have a job to do."

Philippe sighs "Very well then. Who else is joining us on this wild hunt?"

Clive holds his arm out, gesturing at a group of three soldiers "They are."

"Lovely," Phillippe shakes his head "Alright you lot…not exactly the fierce knights I was expecting, but you'll do. Let's hit the road, Moore wont be the most welcoming of places but knowing that we will take care of their pest problem should earn us some respect I hope."

The roads to Moore were fair, tried, and true. Centuries of travel by trade caravans and the Imperial Legion had stomped the ground into a sturdy path. The three soldiers accompanying the pair to Moore were an odd bunch. First was Gregory, a pikeman unlucky enough to not be picked for simple guard duty or patrol, hailing from a small fishing village. Poor boy was barely eighteen and fresh from his training camp. Next was Leon, a swordsman who spent more time scowling and not enough time out of the holding cells. He was a common resident of solitary whenever Clive had to be on guard duty, usually his offense was just a drunken brawl or touching one of the Dames girls without paying or asking. And finally, was the odd chocobo in the bunch, James. What made him so odd? The fact he was a Branded soldier assigned to the group travelling to the town known for its hatred and poor treatment of Branded.

"Some crew we've got today," Clive mutters as they trudge onward to Moore. "Town's just up ahead, think we'll find this beast quickly?"

"I should hope so," Philippe confides "I would rather not watch James be strung up just because he has the Brand."

Clive frowns as they ascend the hill into the town square. The citizens seemed happy enough to see them, that all changed when their eyes fell upon James and the Brand. As it so happened, their arrival was perfectly timed, the beast had been nearby and slipped back into the forests to the north of town with a cow. They had their quarry, and with any luck it would be feeding for some time.

"Come on lads, we have a beast to kill."

The forest north of Moore weren't known to house any dangerous beasts. At best you might see a pack of wolves, a nest of spiders perhaps, but never a large beast. Philippe brought up the rear, keeping an eye on their three companions as they trudged forward into the darkness of the trees. The damage they saw around them was interesting enough, but no signs of just what sort of beast they were tracking.

"Philippe!" Clive's shout stopped the men in their tracks. Philippe approaches cautiously as he spots his friend kneeling in the dirt.

"What is it?"

"Tracks…and not something we can handle as we are I think."

Philippe felt his blood run cold. They were tracks alright, Coeurl tracks to be precise, buried deep in the muddy dirt of the forest floor. "By the Crystals…how big do you think it is?"

"Big enough that I might have to try."

"You have a plan?"

"I might…but it's risky."

Philippe looks back at the men, all three of them standing around nervously "Well, better think it up quickly then. I doubt these three will be eager to stick around now that we know what it is we are hunting."

There was a low roar up ahead. Frightened birds fleeing from the trees for any safety they could find far from here.

"I think it is more accurate to say that it is hunting us."

"Fantastic."

Clive slowly rises to his feet, right hand gripping the handle of his sword as he slowly steps back. "Eyes open lads, no sudden moves and we might just get out of here alive."

"Not bloody likely," Leon says as he raises his sword "A Coeurl…damn things were better left in Dhalmekia!"

Another roar, this one closer nearly startled the poor man so badly he dropped his sword.

"H-how do we fight something like that?" Gregory asks, his pike raised and ready to strike if anything got too close "We are just five men against one of those beasts…right?"

"We should only hope it is but one." Philippe couldn't help but agree with the boys mentally. Fighting a Coeurl out in the fields was easy to do, just surround the bloody thing and kill it. But fighting one in a forest…there might not be room for it to run around but there was no room for them to maneuver either "Any luck yet Clive?"

"Yeah… Leon, with me! Gregory, James, you boys listen to Philippe and do exactly as he tells you to do you understand?" Clive draws his sword "We may only get one shot at this."

"I'm guessing you want us to just sit back and watch then?"

Clive frowns as he hears the third roar followed by a crackling sound. Eyes widening, he turns and leaps just as a blue ball of lightning slams into he ground. Philippe and James were thrown back by the blast. Gregory was slammed into a tree, nearly knocked out by the force of it all. As for Leon and Clive the pair were in the dirt right as the Coeurl made itself known.

Its jaws were still bloody from the cow it had taken earlier in the day. Whiskers whipping around and crackling with lightning as it growled at the men who would be its hunters. Leon staggered to his feet, his blade at the ready and glared at the beast as its eyes bore into him.

"Come on…you want a piece of me furball? I'm right here."

The Coeurl roared, whiskers lashing at the ground as electricity danced across its body. The shout that followed brought Clive out of his little nap. The Coeurl was gone for the moment. But for how long would it remain that way?

"Philippe! You alive!?"

There was a groan to his left "Yeah…remind me to not fight a Coeurl if the Dame asks it of me."

"Heh…I'll join you with that. Are the boys still alive?"

Philippe pulls James to his feet "I've got James…looks like Gregory hit a tree, might be napping…or dead."

"Riveting analysis as always," Clive cautiously approaches the younger man, getting a groan out of him as he shakes his body "He's out…no doubt he will be glad to miss this fight. What's the plan?"

There was a roar in the forest depths. Clive took the first step forward "We have no choice. James! Take Gregory back to the village, tell them we are fighting a Coeurl and to send a runner for the garrison. Then come back here and help us kill this thing!"

James nods his head, running over to grab Gregory "I will return! Just hold on sir!"

Philippe shook his head as the boy did his best to hobble back down the path with Gregory's dead weight weighing him down. "Well, this is a right mess we are in."

"You haven't even heard my plan yet."

"I am almost afraid to ask what it might be."

Clive smirks "See the damage the beast did to these trees?"

"Aye…"

"I intend to use the forest to our advantage."

Philippe did not like the sound of that. "Just how exactly are you planning to do that?"

There was another roar. This time Clive was prepared as a ball of lightning came hurtling towards them. He slams his left hand into he ground, a wall of flame erupting and absorbing the ball of lightning. In the time it took Philippe to blink, Clive brought his sword up and swung it through the flames sending four shockwaves right back at the Coeurl. The beast roared in pain, its fur singed, and glared through the darkness at Clive.

"That's right." He says with a chuckle "I'm right here, so come and get me!"

Philippe for a moment thought his friend might be losing his mind. Madness was a sad and sorry thing or a promising knight to succumb to. In this case, it may be preferred to being a Coeurl's chew toy. The beast charged, rushing through the forest in strides as its whiskers crackled again. Philippe caught the tell-tale sign of the electricity around its body, moving to get out of the way as Clive stood his ground. As the beast pounced, Clive's boy burnt up and vanished just before being crushed by the great cat.

The Coeurl had no time to wonder where its prey had gone before feeling pressure on its back. Clive spun to the right, flaming phoenix wing mirroring his movements before going to the left. The resulting vortex the Scarlet Cyclone created burnt the Coeurl's back, battering it before it could buck Clive off. The First Shield of Rosaria smiled at the beast, it was growing weaker. It charged one final ball of lightning.

"Come then, let's settle this."

The beast fired. Clive rolled out of the way, letting the attack strike a tree and snap the trunk. The Coeurl roared as its eyes locked on Clive who just smiled back. There was a creaking sound, a low crack accompanying it as the tree began to fall. The Coeurl leaped out of the way, the fallen tree shaking the forest with its weight before more began to fall. Clive shifts away as the tree behind him falls, pinning the coeurl beneath the weight of several of the mighty trees.

"See? Easy."

Philippe rolls his eyes "Yes…you not only killed the great beast but managed to topple most of the forest in the process. The Holy Empire thanks you for this glorious achievement."

"And all totaled for our losses?"

"Asides from a cow and the trees?"

"Besides that, Philippe."

"Well…I have no idea where Leon got off to…"

Clive hazards a glance in the direction the Coeurl had originally come from "Shall we then?"

"Very well, let's go."

The forest ran deeper than they had thought. Over carcasses of cows and antelope, a few horses, and oxen. There were so many bodies littered across the forest floor…how had no one reported this sooner? Clive brought his arm up to cover his face as the smell hit him. Philippe looked like he may have become ill from the scent that assailed his nose.

The men shared a look. Up ahead in a small clearing were three cubs, whiskers not yet long enough to be a serious threat, and they were huddled around a body. Clive shook his head as he prepared himself for what was to come. Leon may have been an arrogant man, but he did not deserve this. Philippe averted his eyes as he heard the flames ignite. Clive would handle this part; he need not watch to confirm it.

Back in Moore the victorious pair found not a hero's welcome but an angry mob circling around one body lying in the dirt. Clive and Philippe pushed aside the angry citizenry; eyes wide as they came upon James, cowering before an angry sergeant. Clive immediately got between the pair, making the sergeant stop short as he had prepared another strike.

"What do you think you are doing!?"

The sergeant straightens himself out, turning his head up at Clive "I am doing my duty, soldier, and you are interfering in it."

"Duty? You expect me to believe that striking this man is part of your duty?"

"That man as you called him is a Branded, and one guilty of murder no less."

Clive felt his fists clench as he straightened his back, bringing himself to his full height, glaring at the sergeant "James! Is this true?"

James winced as he stood up with Philippe's help "No sir…but it might as well be."

"What happened?"

"I came back to town with Gregory like you asked me…but the people…they would not help. They accused me of injuring him myself, said that I should be punished for daring to harm my betters. I tried again, pleading for a doctor but they wouldn't budge. They came with rakes and pitchforks. Started to circle us…the sergeant only arrived just as Gregory took his last breath, coughing up blood he was…may have punctured his lung."

"We should have checked him over more thoroughly before sending them off," Philippe concedes "Might have saved his life and us some time here."

"Now that he confesses to his crime…"

"Crime?" Clive asks "Crime!? You call following my orders, trying to save a boy's life…a crime!? Had it not been for these people's blind hatred for Branded then Gregory might still breathe! And you would see him punished for doing his duty, while you can hardly do your own?!"

The sergeant scoffs, brushing past Clive "I wouldn't expect a foreigner to understand. But my job is to see him punished, so if you don't mind…I am going to do just that!"

Clive only let him take a single step more. James closed his eyes, expecting the punch to come. There was a smack followed by a thud. But it was not James who fell. Clive stood, glaring at the downed form of the sergeant, fist still raised.

"Anyone else wish to test me again?" he asks the crowd, all of whom looked less than thrilled about the turn of events "Good…now, let the record show, this man you call Branded quite possibly could have saved all your lives had you not delayed him, as well as Gregory's. We only survived because of our own abilities and a lot of luck, which would not have been needed had we been reinforced like I had wanted."

"Blessing of the Phoenix certainly did help us out," Philippe comments casually "The Coeurl didn't expect that to be used against it."

Clive sighs as the townsfolk begin to mutter amongst themselves. They were curious now, and cautious of him due to the blessing. "Is there a doctor here for our friend? If not…the least you can do is spare some shovels so that we may bury our friend, whom you all neglected to care about."

"Th-that wont be needed," spoke up one nervous but brave soul "We…we can handle the burial…you have our thanks and our apologies for…failing you, chosen of the uh…Phoenix?"

Clive felt a headache coming around. The chuckle from Philippe also did not help his mood "That will be appreciated. Now, if you will excuse us, we must see our injured friend here back to the garrison."

The people parted; the angry mob subdued as the trio shambled out of Moore. Philippe did not think that any place could be as horrible as Moore was. He only wished that were true. The walk back was uneventful. Once in Northreach Clive took James to the physician for healing which left Philippe to deal with the report to Jarden. Losing two men but killing a mother Coeurl and her cubs would save the Empire plenty of trouble but still, the loss of two of their number was not something to ignore so lightly.

It was that night while out on patrol that Clive could be left to his thoughts in peace. Seeing those cubs had stirred up memories of his that were better left buried. Sadly, that was the trouble with being a soldier, sometimes you had to make a difficult choice even if you would rather not have to. He waved to the few citizens he had caught out at night, escorting them home safely as was his duty. Was it worth it? Part of him, some traitorous side, questioned if he should even keep up the pretense of being happy here in Imperial lands. Clive didn't have time to wonder, he had a patrol to do. Unfortunately for Clive, darkness was all he would know this night as someone struck him from behind.

Jarden chuckled to himself, seated in his solar and counting the coin he would owe those two soldiers of his. Everything was going as he had hoped it would now. The thorn in his side that had been here for too many years had finally been removed, now he just needed to find a fitting punishment to ensure it never became a problem again.

"For too long I have wanted you out of the picture, and now that I finally have a solution within my grasp none of them seem good enough." He drums his fingers along the top of his desk "I wonder…if I cannot keep an upstart like you down…then I will just have to put you in your proper place. Oh yes, that will be a brilliant punishment."

While Jarden was enjoying his plots and plans, the Veil was home to quite the opposite reaction to the disappearance of one Clive Rosfield. The Dame paced around her office, a frown on her beautiful face, while her guest sat back and lit his cigar. The smell of smoke made her crinkle her nose, her eyes directed to the man as he blew out that first puff of smoke.

"Must you do that in here?"

The man chuckles "Why should I not? If you can't enjoy one of the simple pleasures such as this, then you aren't living."

"This is serious!" she hisses at him, glaring daggers at the man.

"I know. Which is why I have my man searching the town as we speak," he stands up slowly "Tell me…what makes you so sure he really is Clive Rosfield?"

"Were his talents as a soldier all that was needed, I would have suggested using him as an agent of your cause," she confesses "He has the heart and none of the Imperial dogma within him to hate Bearers…what makes me so sure that he is the missing Rosfield heir is his power. That young man controls the powers of the Phoenix, and if he is not its Dominant then he surely must be blessed by it."

"Blessed by the Phoenix? Hmm…well if it is him then we better find him."

"Why are you interested in him? It isn't like you to be interested in anyone who isn't a Dominant or a Bearer, the rest of us just happen to agree with your vision."

The man chuckles "Well that is a little more complicated. I have a…contact, who assures me that Clive Rosfield would be a perfect ally to our cause as well as assist us in garnering support from Rosaria. But to do that…we need him alive and well."

"Cid…you were never any good at making plans. Who put you up to this?"

Cid gives the Dame a smirk "Who says I haven't been planning this for all these years?"

The Dame looked ready to counter his question. Before the pair could begin to argue the door to her office burst open, a panting and tired Gav standing in the doorway. "Well…what is it?"

Gave holds up his right hand, trying still to catch his breath "I found…nothing. No one…has seen him. No one…heard a thing. Like he just…vanished."

"Perhaps I should have brought the dog then," Cid muses "With his nose we might have found our man."

"Not sure how well that would work out Cid," Gav's breathing slowed down some "Best I can tell, he was attacked but that can't be right either. No signs of a struggle, no witnesses to anything of the sort, and no tracks. Face it, Clive Rosfield has vanished into the wind."

"It's alright Gav, we'll find him eventually." Cid makes his way to the door "We'll head back now; you can rest up before Tarja gets on our case about this one. I'll be expecting a missive should he be found, or you hear anything."

"And I have your word that if he is found that you will do everything you can to keep him alive?"

Cid chuckles "When have I ever not kept my word on that? Don't you worry, we'll keep him alive and out of harms way…once we find him that is."

The Dame watched them go. Her mind wandering, thinking upon all sorts of possible answers as to where Clive had disappeared to. "Just what have you gotten yourself into now?"

For seven days after, Northreach was on edge. The citizens themselves felt safe under the protection of the Imperial garrison but only Philippe could reassure them that they would not falter in their duties without Clive. The rest were good men, but they were not nearly as brave as Philippe and Clive, nor as successful in the field. As for the men themselves…the garrison felt like a den of Chimera. The men were walking on eggshells, judging each other without so much as a clue as to why. Philippe himself found it odd, stranger to him was the absence of some of the men he normally saw every day.

On the seventh day there was a call to assemble out in the drill yard. Orders of the Captain. Jarden wasn't usually a jovial man, normally he was far more irritable and looking for troublemakers to punish. Today however, he was absolutely beaming. He stood by a wooden post in full armor. Whatever was coming must be an official statement or the like. No one ever got dressed up like this just for a regular meeting in the morning.

Philippe watched as the rest of the men gathered up together. He could even see some of the townsfolk on the outskirts watching curiously. No doubt they, much like him, were hoping this might be news of what happened to Clive. The captain raised his arms for quiet as the whispering voices around the yard began to grow too loud.

"Thank you," he begins "I've called you all out here because we have a criminal in our midst that needs to be punished. After gathering the evidence and handling his accomplice it is time to see the true mastermind face the justice of this, our Holy Empire! Bring him out!"

Philippe and the rest of the men stepped to the side as two of their brothers dragged a man out from the confinement cells. He was bare of any armor, left in just a leather coat and pants, and his hair had grown shaggy over the week. Philippe recognized that face of his though, he had seen it countless times after a battle. That was no criminal being dragged to that post. That wasn't some mastermind being tied to it. That was Clive being held in place by those men.

There was a murmur in the crowd, even the men looked shocked, as their hero stirs. The captain made a call for order as Clive groaned behind him. His vision was blurry at best, and his hands were bound behind him. As his eyes fell upon Jarden the captain chuckles, turning ever so slightly to face the man.

"Awake I see, pity you had to miss my opening speech." Jarden taunts "You see this man!? This is the man who assaulted a superior officer and defended a Branded from his just punishment. Seeing as how we are now down a Branded, it is only fair that he help replenish our ranks."

There was movement off to the left. An old physician that had tended to the men's injuries over the years was approaching with a bowl and a quill. Out of everyone closest to Clive, the old man looked to be the one who wanted to be here the least as he waited by the captain's side.

"See here," Jarden begins "The punishment befitting one who loves the Branded so much as to assault his own superior is this. A Branded for a Branded."

The old man kneels beside Clive, an apologetic look in his eye as he dips the quill in the ink. "Please, do not struggle my lord. This will hurt but if you struggle it will only be worse."

"He's right you know," Jarden chimes in, looking down on the pair as the old man readies for his work "That Brand will be yours till the day you die. He makes so much as a scratch out of place, and you might just die a more agonizing death, not that I will be any less happy with the results. But I want you to suffer for all the years you graced me with your presence, boy! So, try not to die, or do, I don't much care which."

Clive glared up at Jarden for a moment before turning his gaze on the old man, his eyes softer, "Do what you must. I can take the pain."

The old man let a single tear fall before bringing the quill up to Clive's left cheek. The initial jab stung. It was the following sensation, that burning feeling on his face and yet at the same time out of reach that hurt. Clive grit his teeth, hardly struggling as he was held in place by two men, he had thought were his brothers in arms. The townsfolk cringed away as the first strangled cry escaped his lips. Philippe counted himself one of the few made of sterner stuff as many of the men around him looked away as the process went on. Jarden had done this on purpose.

The old man was skilled, careful, and caring. He was not agile enough to do a Branding mark in a speedy manner. Clive kneeled in the dirt, tied to that post, for nearly half an hour. Every moment spent with the old physician designing the Brand. Jarden gave a dark chuckle from deep in his belly as he watched Clive suffer, heard him cry out in pain as it became too much for him.

"Impressive…you haven't blacked out yet," he chuckles "Hopefully you can stay awake, Branded, long enough for him to finish filling it in."

As Jarden went back to his solar, the townsfolk began to trickle away. The men looked demoralized as they stood by and watched. Philippe couldn't believe this was happening. All because he had saved one Branded. No…not just one Branded. Clive had saved James. Where was James? The captain had mentioned they were down a Branded…that they had taken care of an accomplice. But then that would mean that they had…

"Damn you Jarden!" he growls, running for the southern gate. While Philippe ran off to look for what he hoped he would not find, Clive screamed as the coloring of his brand began.

All the while the Dame watched, tears stinging in her eyes, as a promising young knight was given the Brand. Cid would want to hear of this. He would surely do something before it was too late wouldn't he? But what if he didn't? A terrible thought struck her as she saw not the boy, she had grown fond of but a man from her past she had lost took his place. What if he died…just like him?

AN: …so…this is officially the end of the prologue to this story. After this point, and I have no problem saying this, we begin the story proper with the opening of Final Fantasy 16. Now I know there will be questions, because again I hope that you have questions after you read a chapter, and all I can say is…yeah…we went there. I won't go into detail about what happened to James, mostly because I do not want to up the rating of this just yet and I also don't want to have anyone turn away from finishing the prologue because the content was way too much for them. If you want to know then DM me or wait the long way round. Until we come back to Northreach for that explanation. As for the content of this chapter and why it's still the prologue…I wanted to do something that I had yet to see done in any fanfic be it here or ao3 which was how Clive got his Brand. We all know he is not a Bearer, and besides Canon Clive there are no Dominants given the mark. So…why does he get it? Considering the Dragoon at Phoenix Gate in the game knows who Clive is, and says he was blessed by the Phoenix…I just assume that he is well known enough that everyone of any importance or that pays attention to military reports would know he is the First Shield of Rosaria. But that still left me with the dilemma of what could get him branded and well…as we see, it is something as cruel and petty as a good deed and a murder leading to this moment.

Sadly, there will be no reviews this time around for this chapter unless my plans change, and I did not do a double upload. …in which case, reviews will be down below. Idk, blame Future Me when he posts this. Past Shobu is done for the moment.

Future Shobu says, let there be Reviews! ...seriously, the above authors note was finished before Chapter 8 was posted so it's been a few days and here we go...

RedAlpha22: So there be references galore if you know where to look. Rex, Cody, Colt, Thorn, Gregor. There are at the very least...five more planned as of this moment. Could become more or not more in the future, who knows? I don't.

master of death12345: Don't sweat it. It'll happen when it happens. It's all good.

furvustocs: I had a response for this. I really did. But that got to be a rant and I had to delete it. Short and sweet Furv: I'm glad you are enjoying it, that this story has kept your attention thus far and all. but that's how good fanfiction goes. It pulls you in like any good story...it just doesn't cost you a dime and gets updated whenever it does. Also, prologue is officially done with this chapter so now you can say that the story really begins.

Guest(Not Dave): I would request that you pick a name for yourself before I confuse you with the other Not Dave's but besides that...THAT is what I was going for. Tragedy. She isn't dead...yet. But the way I built her up before the canon points of 16 happen, she might as well be dead because she is no longer the Anabella I have written but become the Anabella we all hate in the game. Sadly since she does not appear a lot throughout the games I can't have her appear too often...or can I? We'll just have to wait and find out.

Mxm124: Cid was a plan for a long time, may have said that in the author's note before, I dont remember. I wanted it to happen for a few reasons and looking at my notes it also made sense because around this time we have him trying to gather his own allies...one of which I had a fan theory about that will be canon for this story mark my words! Moving on...the aevis is one of those things wherein because I have either added in allies or powered up the canon party in certain moments I will be either adding more enemies or powering up the enemies so it is somewhat still the same feel of difficulty. So if, for example, I have Titan and Bahamut vs Ifrit, then I would be adding in more like Shiva or Ramuh etc to balance it out. Vice versa if someone else joins them to Caer Norvent then Benedikta gets a power boost to even the score should an ally be missing for her in my notes. It's a lot of notes, a lot of timelines and movement of individuals. Takes time. And a lot of sugar to keep me awake.