A/N: I'd like to take a moment to thank my good friend Jota Te, much of this chapter was written and thought of by him and would not have been possible otherwise. If you haven't read TLCB, it's definitely worth your time!
….
Down in the castle courtyard near the barracks, Zidane wiped the sweat from his forehead as the last of the Pluto Knights finished their sparring exercise. Thanks to the new training regimen that he and Steiner had come up with, many of the knights had finally begun to show promise as swordsmen; a trait that had been sorely lacking a few months ago. Instead of being left to their own devices, as they had all grown accustomed to, they had created a series of warm-ups, sparring matches, and close-order drills that would take place regularly to sharpen each of their senses and help them better defend the castle.
At first, things had not gone well. Not only had the training itself been a bust with quite a few of the knights collapsing in exhaustion and others flat out refusing certain tasks, but three had resigned from service altogether. Steiner had considered it to be "good riddance," but deep down, he was worried that things would only go downhill from there. Luckily, that hadn't been the case.
News of the unlikely duo's enhanced "boot camp" had spread quickly; Zidane was sure Garnet had played some part in that even though she coyly evaded answering, but the result had been an influx of almost fifty young and eager would-be knights. Even the impossibly hard-to-please Beatrix had been so impressed by all of the improvements that, for the first time in centuries, joint combat drills between the branches became a thing. The once-fractured Pluto Knights and the regular soldiers found themselves training side by side, creating a newfound camaraderie that had been sorely lacking before. The transformation from a ragtag group to a disciplined and capable force was evident. Steiner, too, although reluctant to admit it openly, had a sense of pride in the positive changes he had witnessed among his men.
As the day's training concluded, Zidane and Steiner often addressed the assembled knights, "Great job today, everyone! You're all making great progress. Remember, the key to becoming a skilled swordsman is consistency and dedication. Keep up the good work, and we'll make this castle impregnable together!"
The knights, once disheartened and skeptical, now looked at each other with newfound respect. The bond forged through shared challenges had begun to transform them into a formidable unit. The once-discordant castle now echoed with the sound of disciplined drills, a testament to the change that Zidane and Steiner had instigated.
On this particular day, Zidane had pushed all of them even harder than usual in hopes of finishing early, and so far, everything seemed to be going smoothly. "You're leaving again this evening, aren't you?" Steiner asked, removing his helmet and taking the sweat rag the younger man offered him.
"Is that a question or a statement?" Zidane grinned, glancing up at the majestic form of the castle.
Steiner chuckled with only a hint of frustration. "Will you both be gone as long as last time?"
Zidane placed his blunted sword on the worn wooden rack and opened his vest, relishing in the cool air hitting his skin. "No, Just two nights at the most. I'm not gonna lie, it still surprises me that you're okay with it and not pitching a fit to come along."
Steiner grunted slightly and watched as the knights swapped their training gear for their usual equipment and prepared themselves to finish out their day. "It would be a pointless endeavor. Besides, I can't help but agree with you; her Majesty has seemed rather stressed as of late. I take it she's still not sleeping well?"
"For a few nights, I thought the nightmares would finally stop, but now they're definitely getting worse. I honestly don't know what to do to help her. I've even tried doing some of her tasks for her to lighten the load, but I usually end up making a mess out of it. Hell, last time I tried to help her sort her stack of letters, she "politely" told me to go do something else." Zidane rubbed his sore shoulder where one of Beatrix's soldiers had gotten a lucky hit in and began walking away from the castle grounds. "I just really hope getting her away from the castle for a little while will help her to relax a little."
"Uh, where are you going? The castle is that way," Steiner asked, surprised to see that the king consort had packed his things and was heading towards the city.
"Have you forgotten what day it is?" the Genome replied over his shoulder. Steiner furrowed his brow for a moment, then his face saddened when the answer to that question dawned on him.
"No, of course not," he replied, lowering his eyes. "I'll visit the memorial as soon as I'm done with my duties. I suppose it's pointless to ask you do the same thing instead of going to that condemned building, right?"
"Yup."
The knight sighed.
"Please, send him my regards in case I have trouble attending today."
"Give them to him yourself," Zidane said as he walked away. "He deserves that at least."
….
Zidane was known for many things among the citizens of Alexandria. One of the most controversial was his reckless tendency to venture into the city's alleyways and mingle with the common folk in bars and other spaces. Neither Steiner nor Beatrix had been able to keep him within the castle or even convince him to go out with an escort. It didn't help that the superhuman abilities provided by his Terran body were evolving day by day, so he would likely be the one to protect his own troops in case anything happened.
To avoid being constantly harassed, the king relied on a variety of disguises, his encyclopedic knowledge of the capital, and a schedule as unpredictable as himself. One of the few things in which he dared to maintain a pattern was his visits to the small, abandoned chapel southwest of the palace. Its bell tower was inhabited by a handful of Moogles and had become Vivi's main playground every time he visited the kingdom.
The boy's death still weighed on Zidane's conscience like a bag of bricks. Not having been there in his final days was a wound in his heart that refused to heal, so he had been coming to this improvised mausoleum every year in remembrance of his dear friend's passing.
"Damn it..." he thought as he made his way through the inner alleyways of the harbor district. The sky, clear just hours before, was quickly clouding over, and the Genome could have sworn he glimpsed lightning in the distance, but for some reason, the sound of thunder never reached his ears. "At least the wind is blowing..." he muttered, hoping the gust would carry the storm away and that his journey with Garnet wouldn't be thwarted by the weather.
After a short walk, he arrived at the old, abandoned chapel and discovered a heavy iron padlock blocking access to the interior. "Seriously?" thought the King of Thieves with a smug smile as he pulled out his trusty lockpick from the pocket of his coat.
The building had been purchased by a noble from Treno the previous year and was scheduled for demolition, but a series of legal hurdles (many of them reluctantly imposed by Garnet herself at her husband's request) had prevented it. She had commissioned a memorial to Vivi in the royal cemetery so that Zidane wouldn't have to risk going to that dilapidated building year after year, but like a Gimme Cat given a toy, the Genome was only interested in the box.
After a couple of expert flicks of the wrist, the mechanism gave way with a satisfying click, and the heavy wooden door finally swung open.
"Huh...?" he muttered as he stepped over the threshold. While his thief's senses were no longer what they had once been, they were still sharp enough to notice that something was amiss before setting foot in the small chapel. Perhaps it was the displaced tiny pebbles that indicated the recent presence of a stranger, or the unprecedented silence within; the Moogles had always been mischievous and chatty, but now they were inexplicably quiet.
With one hand on the dagger he had once plunged into the heart of Death itself, the king ventured into the darkness, determined to find out what had happened to the guardians of the makeshift crypt.
"You've taken longer than expected," said a male voice from the depths of the darkness. "I was beginning to think that perhaps you had already met your demise, but it seems you've made it just in time."
"Buddy, do you have any idea who you're dealing with?" Replied the Genome defiantly, keeping an eye on his surroundings in case the stranger had brought backup, but they seemed to be the only two living beings in the building, and the man had yet to draw a weapon.
"Zidane Tribal, Prince Consort of Alexandria, Savior of Gaia…" the man responded, lighting a candle with a snap of his fingers. The small flame barely illuminated Rasler's youthful but exhausted features. "Not even a stranger such as I would have an excuse feign ignorance."
"A wizard..." murmured the king, searching for any trace of the Moogles' whereabouts but never fully taking his eyes off the stranger. "If you're here about the decree on carrying magical scepters, I regret to inform you that weirdos like you are the reason we restricted them in the first place."
Rasler blinked in astonishment for a few seconds, then burst into laughter.
"You mean this? No... just a bit of sleight of hand to lighten the mood," he joked, using the candle to light the candelabrum next to the mound that the Moogles had erected in honor of Vivi. "I'm not here to ask you for power; though I suppose I could offer it to you."
"A dealmaker, huh?" Zidane smirked smugly. "Nope. Not interested. Just tell me where the Moogles are, and I'll let you leave in one piece."
"Moogles...?" Rasler replied. "That sounds familiar, but I'm afraid i can't recall."
"Oh, come on. Tiny, fluffy, with a pompom on their heads?" replied the Genome with a mix of exasperation and surprise.
"Ah! You mean those?" asked the traveler, motioning towards a crack in the bell tower wall. Indeed, the three Moogles inhabiting the chapel were hiding there, trembling with fear.
"Did he see us? But how...?" their small voices whispered frantically from the top of the tower, and Zidane sighed in relief.
"All good up there?" exclaimed the king, and the echo of his voice resonated throughout the stone structure.
"Be careful with that man, Zidane! He has something in his possession brimming with malevolent energy!" one of the Moogles responded, and the Prince Consort took that as the justification he needed to unsheathe his daggers.
"Hmm, your friends are very perceptive." Said Rasler, nonchalantly folding his arms.
"Cut the crap and get to the point. Who are you, and what the hell do you want?" snapped the Genome, annoyed by the unknown invader's timing. Why couldn't the world wait until after his days off to throw new threats at him?
"...The name's Rasler; I'm a traveler from a distant land called Ivalice. I came here to prevent a catastrophe of apocalyptic proportions, but it seems I've arrived too late," replied the outsider.
"Too late...? What do you mean by too late...?" Zidane countered.
The church was momentarily bathed in an intense flash of lightning, revealing its sacred interior through the vivid colors of stained glass. Zidane instinctively shielded his eyes with his arm, temporarily blinded by the brilliance of the spectral glow.
"What the hell was that?! If this is some kind of normal storm, why can't I hear the thunder?!" Zidane demanded; his voice edged with a rising sense of urgency.
Rasler sighed, his tone weighted with a gravity that matched the impending storm. "That, Your Majesty, is the storm preceding a dimensional incursion," he explained, producing the Zodiac Stone from his pocket. "Once it begins, it cannot be stopped, and everything caught in its wake will be lost. So, I've sealed this building with the power of this artifact since your arrival. We'll be safe here until the transition between realms is over."
Silent lightning once again illuminated the chapel, casting elongated shadows on the ancient walls.
"Dagger...!" gasped the Genome, panic coursing through his veins. Without waiting for Rasler to elaborate, he whirled around, attempting to escape through the door. However, he collided with an invisible barrier that abruptly halted his escape. "What the hell is this?! Let me out, asshole!" Zidane bellowed, frustration and desperation escalating as he pounded the magical wall with his fists.
"I'm afraid I can't do that," Rasler replied, his visage reflecting a sudden weariness that seemed to age him. "If I let you out, you'll meet the same fate as everyone else."
Zidane's eyes, the purplish glow intensifying, narrowed in a predatory manner. The ominous power of Trance was taking hold.
"I won't ask you twice," growled the Prince Consort, adopting a more primal combat stance, surrounded by arcing electrical currents. Rasler's skin prickled slightly as he was enveloped by the threatening aura of the Angel of Death, though he remained composed.
"It seems I made the right choice," Rasler commented, stepping forward but refraining from drawing his blade. "I've no desire to fight you. Kill me if you must, but it won't change your situation; the barrier will fade when the stone wills it."
"Then I'll destroy it too!" Zidane yelled defiantly.
The air in the sealed chapel crackled with tension, mirroring the storm outside that seemed to exist in tandem with the unfolding chaos within its walls. The flickering candle flames cast eerie shadows that danced along the stone walls, bearing witness to the clash between desperation and resignation.
Rasler, his eyes filled with a weary understanding, remained stoic in the face of Zidane's mounting fury. The prince, now consumed by the ominous glow of his Trance, moved with a primal intensity, the very embodiment of an unleashed force of nature.
The Zodiac Stone in Rasler's hand pulsed softly, resonating with the discordant energy of the approaching dimensional incursion. As Zidane rushed forward towards him he again crashed into an invisible wall. "Damn you!" Zidane screamed as he pounded relentlessly against the magical barrier, it seemed to absorb his attacks with an unsettling silence.
The stranger from Ivalice watched the spectacle with a somber expression, seemingly untouched by the maelstrom of emotions raging within the chapel. His decision to seal the temple weighed heavily on him, evident in the lines etched deeper into his once-youthful face.
"You're wasting your strength, Zidane," Rasler said calmly, his voice cutting through the chaos. "I understand your frustration, but this barrier is not easily broken. It is woven with the essence of the very magic that threatens to unravel the world."
Zidane, fueled by a volatile mix of fear and determination, ignored Rasler's words. The electric arcs surrounding him intensified, crackling with an otherworldly energy that hinted at the supernatural forces at play.
"If I can destroy that stone, I can make it to the castle!" Zidane yelled, continuing his assault on the inner barrier. A spiderweb of cracks now covered its surface.
Rasler, though visibly affected by the intense energy, maintained his composure. "I did not come here seeking conflict, Zidane. There are greater forces at play, and our destinies are intertwined in ways you cannot yet comprehend."
But Zidane, lost in the throes of his Trance, remained deaf to reason. The walls of the chapel seemed to close in, the storm outside echoed the turmoil within, and the dance between light and darkness played out in the struggle between a desperate prince and a traveler burdened by the weight of an impending cataclysm.
Rasler solemnly placed the ancient stone on the altar, the dim light of the chapel flickering eerily as the inner barrier shattered. Zidane, his eyes clouded with desperation, stood across from Rasler, the air thick with tension.
"Go ahead, destroy the stone and save your beloved," Rasler intoned, his voice carrying a haunting resonance. Zidane, consumed by a trance, leaped forward, his blade descending with a ferocity that echoed through the chapel. The resulting explosion should have likely rent reality itself, but as the smoke dissipated, the unblemished stone glimmered amidst the ruins of the shattered altar. Zidane, at the chapel's other end, struggled to rise, his trance now a distant memory.
"What... the hell just happened?" he gasped, disoriented and drained; the air tainted with the scent of failure.
Rasler, regret etched on his face, retrieved the stone, slipping it skillfully into his pouch. "You're not the first to attempt its destruction. I believed you could succeed, but I was mistaken."
"If you used that thing to create the barrier, then you can use it to unmake it! The castle, Dagger is gonna get caught in the storm! I can't let that happen; I can still save her!" Zidane's rage morphed into panicked pleas.
"I'm sorry," Rasler shook his head. "Believe me, I wanted to save both of you. It's too late for either of us to do anything. I suggest you hold on to something."
"What do you—?" Zidane's words were cut off as the surroundings turned blindingly white, the chapel convulsing violently. A chorus of moogle screams mingled with the crashing of the bell, narrowly avoiding their demise. A deafening roar of wind and energy followed, reminiscent of the airship crashing into the evil forest.
When Zidane dared to look, the chapel's walls had been violently ripped away, and broken pieces of buildings and bloodied lifeless residents floated weightlessly, suspended in an inverted gravity. Purple lightning crackled between the debris, the unsettling silence drowning even his own breath. Rasler, too, stared in disbelief until, abruptly, the sky returned to normal, and gravity reclaimed its dominion, sending everything crashing down.
As the extent of the destruction became apparent, Zidane anxiously surveyed the castle. It stood, damaged but standing. The fading barrier allowed relief to wash over him, replaced quickly by seething anger as he turned to Rasler.
"I'll never forgive you for this. If she didn't make it... then I swear I'll kill you myself."
Rasler met his gaze, a pensive look on his face. "I know. I also know you don't trust me, and that's alright. But the truth is, I've done nothing but try to help you. If you'll let me, I'll accompany you to the castle."
"Just don't get in my way," Zidane spat, brushing past him and hastening toward the damaged castle.
Rasler lingered for a moment, staring at the evening sky. "Did I do the right thing? …I'm not sure what that is anymore."