Once again, life found a comfortable rhythm for Kain. Although awkward at first, Kain and Rosa gradually learned how to be around one another again, without longing looks or sneaking glances. For Cecil, they'd remind one another, when it seemed hardest.

And Cecil did need them, as he continued his dark knight training. Each morning, he'd wake slowly, drained from the previous day, needing prodding from Kain to ready himself. Gradually, usually after he'd eaten, Cecil would regain his light cheeriness, becoming Cecil of old again, talking excitedly about the day's events.

Rosa would join them in the mess hall around mid-morning, now wearing her trainee robes. Cecil always lit up at the sight of her, and Kain always felt a pang of jealousy – for Rosa, for Cecil, he wasn't even sure anymore. Probably both, he eventually conceded, but was not certain what that meant.

They'd part, each to their individual lessons. Sometimes, Cecil would be in the training yard, going through weapon exercises as all the other cadets did. Kain was happiest on those days, because while Cecil was here standing in the sunlight, his dark thoughts could not threaten him. This was where he could prove himself with the strength of his arm and willing heart, and not with how deeply he could hate himself.

Too often, however, Cecil would disappear to the castle's royal wing. He'd be gone most of the day, returning just before the evening meal. Instead of joining the other cadets in the mess hall, Cecil would drag himself to his room. Kain and Rosa would already be there, waiting for him, Rosa bringing potions and bandages, Kain bringing food.

Stony-faced, Cecil would say nothing as Rosa tended to him, unwrapping the soiled bandages, cleaning the dried blood from his skin, and sealing his wounds closed. They were never as serious as the wound had been on that first awful night, as Cecil had gotten more precise and accurate with his knife, but they were terrible, nonetheless. Short but deep cuts across his forearm and wrists seemed most effective, Kain had learned, witnessing the results of a novice's experimentations on Cecil's skin every night.

Rosa, with her gentle words and hands, eased something in Cecil. Once she was done healing him, a tight knot of tense control loosened in him, cracking through his shielded exterior. He'd crawl into the bed, lie on his side to face the window, and cry quietly.

Like lancing a boil, everything bled out of Cecil, and he'd talk on, about how this would all be easier to bear if he weren't a terrible person; how he was unworthy of their care and friendship; how they should leave him and go.

But Rosa and Kain wouldn't leave, one sitting on the edge of the bed, patting Cecil's back. They traded often as Cecil swung wildly between moods, each offering different words of encouragement, and Cecil desperately needing both.

Eventually, he would come around, no longer needing to spew his own self-loathing, and they'd eat together, the food set up like a picnic on the floor. In the warmer months, they'd go up to Cecil's roof, and wait for the sky to turn dark. Under the twin moons, they'd talk on, about old escapades, ongoing challenges, and what their future might hold.

After Rosa left for the evening, Kain would reluctantly leave Cecil for his own room. But most nights, before it grew too late, Cecil would come knocking at Kain's door. "Will you sleep in my room?" Cecil would ask, in a role reversal from their youth. Kain always agreed, following Cecil back upstairs, the thought of refusing never crossing his mind.

Cecil slept on his side, facing the window as was his habit. Kain laid flat on his back, staring up at the dark ceiling, trying to calm the erratic beat of his heart. Kain knew the morning would come too soon, and Cecil would face it all again, to bear new wounds, scarring more flesh, hating himself just a little bit more.

Kain hated these days.

Kain loved these days.

It churned within him, his guilt and his desire, in perpetual war with one another. The two paralyzed him and made him mute, unable to risk his vulnerable heart and say something, while also unable to withdraw entirely and shield himself from the torture of maybe.

That maybe haunted him, clawing its way across Kain's psyche, bleeding into strange dreams from which Kain woke hot and breathless, unable to calm the roar of his pulse thudding thunder against his temples. On those mornings, Kain would hop over the still sleeping Cecil to the windowsill and climb up to the roof.

Only then, in the greedy arms of the winds that blew in from Baron's coast, could Kain breathe again. The wind funneled away his tumultuous thoughts of both Rosa and Cecil, cooling his feverish blood. It promised tranquility to his conflicted soul, a balm to all his worries. If he could just leave Baron and its conflicts behind, he could find true freedom riding on the currents of the wind. He could be truly unstoppable, answering only to-

"Kain?" Eventually, Cecil would call up to Kain from the window, beckoning him inside. Without hesitation, Kain dutifully went back.

As Rosa had warned Kain, nothing stayed the same.

Eventually, as the months passed and Cecil's training continued, Cecil adapted to his growing dark knight power, and was better able to control his despondency. He was still withdrawn after lessons, but he bore his burden quietly, no longer collapsing into sobs and needing affirmations.

Rosa still healed him, however. Cecil had the option to go to the infirmary, but he never asked and neither did Rosa. She always went to his side, without criticism or judgment, and never once begged off from the burden.

Kain wasn't sure when, but he began to feel like an outsider. There was an unmistakable intimacy between them: Rosa, touching Cecil's arm cautiously, not wanting to hurt him more, offering him an encouraging smile; Cecil, watching Rosa with a growing admiration, and Kain suspected it was not just for her impressive magical talent or kind words. And Kain, standing off by himself, watching them both and wanting to be a part of it, but not knowing the right words to ask.

That's not to say, however, that Cecil didn't need Kain anymore – quite the opposite. Cecil would be in a black mood, unrelieved by Rosa's gentle presence, moping around the castle until Kain finally dragged Cecil to the training yard.

There, they'd spar. Cecil fought with a rare intensity and a single-mindedness that made him a terrifying opponent. On those days, Kain knew he'd return to the castle sore and stinking in his own sweat from his efforts to keep up. Cecil, for his part, would work himself to near exhaustion, as if each swing of his sword cut down another dark thought, and his shield could keep even his self-doubts at bay.

Those nights, Kain knew Cecil slept soundly, because he did not come knocking on Kain's door.

Rosa and Kain, working separately but in tandem, kept Cecil from tipping over the edge of despair. As for their own friendship, there was a careful truce between them, making sure never to be alone with each other ever again.

Just in case.

Years passed this way, in a fragile balance between the three of them.

The Chief Engineer retired, leaving Cid in the role. Cid promised Cecil that he would build Cecil the greatest ship ever to come out of Baron, the pinnacle of technology and innovation. "My greatest enterprise!" Cid declared with a knowing grin.

As the oldest of the three, Kain turned eighteen and graduated first. No one was surprised when the Dragoons made their official offer for Kain to join. He was surprised, however, when both the Knights and the Red Wings made offers as well; he wondered if Odin was behind them.

In a quiet ceremony, Kain was initiated into Baron's military, in the Dragoon division. He was given his father's old armor, and the first time he wore it, he reluctantly came out of his room, where both Rosa and Cecil waited. Taller than both, he peered down at them from the guarded eyes of the dragoon helm that covered the top half of his face.

"What do you think?" Kain asked.

"Your mouth will give you away," Cecil said, drawing surprised looks from both Rosa and Kain. Cecil saw their faces (or at least, half of Kain's) and gave a small laugh. "You smirk when you think you're winning. It always means you're about to pull off some elaborate move."

"I do not," Kain scoffed.

"You also clench your jaw when you're worried," Cecil continued, ignoring Kain's denial. "It means you can be pushed into defense because you're afraid of losing ground."

"Perhaps I should get a new helmet," Kain remarked dryly.

"No." Cecil shook his head. "I quite like this one, actually. It suits you. Besides, how often will you fight someone who knows you as well I do?" Cecil didn't wait for Kain to answer. "Of course, on the true battlefield, we'll be on the same side."

"Of course," Kain repeated, not knowing how wrong Cecil would be.

After Kain reached his majority, the castle steward sat him down and went over the accounts of the Highwind estate in mind-numbingly boring detail. In the steward's office, Kain was presented with the option to take over running the estate, or to continue letting the crown manage it.

Not all cadets joined the military upon graduation. Some had other opportunities in the civilian world, apprenticeship offers or family trades. Marion Oakes, one of the cadets in Rosa's age group, had left to help her father run the family's Weapon Shop, having learned to care for weapons and armor under Baron's Quartermaster.

It was an easy decision for Kain. Like Richard before him, Kain had no interest in the care of the property or its operation, only in his own career and to what heights it might take him. He had no desire for great wealth, only the glory of the Dragoons, and by extension, himself and his father.

The steward looked briefly disappointed, then nodded his understanding. "Someday soon, you should visit the property." He paused, busying himself with tidying up the many papers scattered across the desk between them. "Your mother really loved it," he added, in a quieter voice.

"My mother?" Kain asked, surprised. His mother was a giant blank space in his life, a phantom limb he didn't know he was supposed to miss. Richard had always been enough for Kain, and any parental longing he had was reserved strictly for his father, not knowing even how to miss a mother. Sometimes, Kain had a vague sense of it from his early memories of Joanna, but her contempt for him had soured the nostalgia with a bitter taste.

The steward smiled fondly. "Yes, Mistress Highwind. I helped arrange her trips out to Highwind Manor. It was a special place for her."

The idea seemed so alien and off putting to Kain; he shifted uncomfortably in his chair but said nothing.

"I could set up a trip for you," the steward offered. "I know the property manager. He'd love to finally meet you, I think."

"No, thank you," Kain said, abruptly standing up. "Continue managing the estate as you have been," he said quickly, as he backed up to the door. He mumbled an unintelligible 'thank you' as he slipped out the door and left.

Why did the thought of his mother disturb him so, Kain wondered, only knowing that he needed to put distance between him and the conversation. He found his way outside, then easily Jumped up to the castle's roof. The whistling wind overhead made him feel connected to his father in a way that crowded out all unwanted questions about his mother.

You will be the best, the wind promised him in a breathy whisper.

Kain startled, then looked abruptly around, but saw no one. He shook his head, to clear it from the disjointed thoughts that made him think he was hearing voices. It was a trick of the wind, he told himself, and nothing more.

After joining the Dragoon ranks, Kain became busier than ever. Kain trained rigorously every day, perfecting his Jump technique; he picked a weapon, a lance, and worked exclusively with it. He became a regular rider with the Red Wings ships, often accompanying them on their patrols to keep monsters in the sky at bay.

Kain had less time for Cecil and Rosa, but still tried to see them. He'd catch up to them, on the tail end of their morning meal, long enough to give them a quick greeting before both had to leave for their lessons. Sometimes in the evening, he'd find them walking together out of the castle, and learned it had become routine for Cecil to walk Rosa home. Rosa still attended to Cecil's self-inflicted wounds, but Kain would often hear descending steps on the tower stairs much later in the evening than when Rosa usually left.

Kain puzzled over what this might mean, genuinely not knowing, until he caught Rosa smiling at Cecil. It was the same secret smile that had only ever been Kain's alone, and it gutted him to see it again.

That night, he followed Rosa and Cecil into town, on their daily walk together. From the high vantage point of the Inn's roof, Kain watched as Rosa lingered on her doorstep, still talking with Cecil. Their goodbye lasted an eternity, until finally, perhaps reluctantly, Rosa went inside, with one last lingering look as she paused in the door's frame. Cecil said something that made her laugh, then she closed the door.

Kain watched Cecil take a dozen steps away from Rosa's house, hesitate, turn back, then hesitate again. Cecil stood there, unsure, until he finally decided to turn away and leave. Kain waited for Cecil to disappear around the road's bend, then dropped easily to roof of Rosa's house. Crouching low, Kain stepped slowly as he moved across the slanted roof, making his way to the other side of the house where Rosa's room was.

Once there, Kain jumped down, clearing the short distance to the ground easily. He was about to knock on Rosa's window, when it opened, and Rosa peered out.

"What are you doing?" she asked, clearly annoyed. "I can hear you stomping about on the roof. You're lucky my mother's not home."

"What's going on with you and Cecil?" Kain asked instead of answering.

This made Rosa pause, before she asked quietly, "Are you following us?"

Kain looked aside, suddenly embarrassed. He hadn't thought this through, only acting on selfish impulse.

"It doesn't matter anyway," Rosa said, sounding close to sulking. "Soon he'll enlist and you two will be together again and inseparable, while I get left behind. It will be as you want it."

"That's not what I want," Kain protested. "I want you with us too."

"On the field?" Rosa asked, arching one brow. Kain immediately shook his head and Rosa sighed. "Enjoy your year with him while you have it. Because white mage or no, I'm not staying behind."

It sounded like a warning; Kain should have listened.

When Cecil graduated, there was less certainty about where he would go, as he had offers from most of the divisions. The Knights and Red Wings made sense, even Engineering given how much time Cecil spent in Cid's workshop. The most surprising of all, however, was the offer from the White Mages.

"Mother says he has potential for some white magic," Rosa explained when both Cecil and Kain had expressed their shock. "Perhaps not a lot, but enough to qualify him. He would have to stop his dark knight training, of course."

In the end, Cecil chose the Red Wings – and this was truly his own choice.

"The king is allowing me to pick," Cecil told Kain and Rosa, breathlessly excited. "As long as I continue training as a dark knight, I can also hold rank in any division I want." Cecil closed his eyes and Kain knew Cecil imagined the sky, endlessly blue and wide, freedom stretching on in every direction. "I'm going to be a pilot," Cecil declared as he opened his eyes, and did not stop smiling for the rest of the day.

Rosa was right, again, about them being together. Despite being in different divisions, there was much overlap between the Dragoons and the Red Wings, and Kain found himself working often with Cecil.

During this year, Albert started to lean more on Kain for the daily running of the Dragoons. Kain helped maintain the roster, gave out assignments and collected reports from those returning from missions. Albert was not shy in his intention to groom Kain for command.

"It will be yours," Albert told Kain. "Nothing can stop you, if this is what you really want."

Nothing could stop Cecil, either, as he blew through his pilot's training, easily passing each skill check. He became the youngest pilot at nineteen, and as Rosa approached her eighteenth birthday and graduation, it was rumored that Cecil would soon get his first ship assignment.

Mages were precious in Baron, where physical and technological prowess were favored. Most of Baron's working mages were transplants from Mysidia, on loan in a treaty between them. The mages worked in month long shifts, staying on Baron's side, in service to its military, then crossing the Devil's Road for their two-week liberty.

Given their rarity, both black mage and white mage troops were jealously guarded in combat, often given their own special guards to escort them safely through the battlefield. Their safety was a top priority for all other divisions.

Any native Baron with an ounce of magical talent was aggressively recruited and often rose rapidly through the ranks, overseeing the work of the Mysidian mages. Discovering a child with an aptitude for magic was cause for a family to celebrate, as it nearly guaranteed a grand military career.

As Baron's nobility often sent their children to enroll as cadets, there could be a large degree of politics involved in what a newly graduated recruit was offered at their enlistment. While Cecil and Kain had multiple offers from various divisions, Rosa only had one: the White Mages. When a talented cadet showed enough magical aptitude, it was customary for other divisions to back off their own pursuit.

"This is Mother and the king's doing," Rosa declared with a huff. "They made sure I wouldn't have a choice."

"Or..." Cecil interjected, "... you are incredibly talented, and this is the best place for you." He touched his forearm out of reflex. "I've had other healings, you know. Your Cure spell is by far the most powerful."

"Is it?" Rosa asked, sounding skeptical.

"The most effective, too," Cecil continued, trying to be encouraging. "Other white mages need three or four attempts. Dark Knight wounds are... difficult."

"Hm," Rosa made a thoughtful noise in her throat, but did not say more about it.

"What do you think?" Cecil asked, sounding uncertain. The three of them together in Cecil's room, with Rosa and Kain flanking either side of Cecil. In front of them stood a new addition to the room: an armor rack. On display was a set of armor, without a scratch or scuff on it. It matched the illustrations in Cecil's dark knight tome with its wicked spikes and black metal, somehow dark and yet greedily glittering in the flickering light of a nearby lamp.

Kain and Rosa said nothing, only looking on in stunned silence.

"Well?" Cecil prompted. "The king had it custom made." He touched a loving hand to the helmet, where small horns protruded from the top of the skull. "He told me he was proud of me," Cecil said in a suddenly vulnerable voice, looking side to side at each of them.

"You will be terrifying on the battlefield," Kain finally remarked. Truthfully, he hated the armor, how dark it was, and how much it would smother Cecil's light. But Kain saw Cecil's desperate need for validation and could not deny him. "With any luck, your enemies will flee at the sight of you, and you won't have to fight at all," Kain said, trying for humor instead.

Cecil laughed, and it seemed to break the tension in the room.

"Besides," Rosa said with a knowing smile. "You will have our support."

Cecil's first assignment as a pilot was the Bloodletter, a boat that had been recently upgraded after its captain retired. A newly promoted captain was putting together a fresh crew for its reentry back into service, including Cecil.

Kain got himself on board easily enough, merely by asking Albert. The Commander had an obvious soft spot for Kain, letting Kain take on any challenge he thought he could handle.

Cecil's maiden mission was easy enough: a simple patrol overseas to Mysidia, making a pass over Mount Ordeals, to ensure the skies were clear of monsters. There'd been a spike in religious services in Baron in recent years, with some braving the Devil's Road to make the journey to Mount Ordeals, offering their devout prayers to a small shrine at the base of the mountain. It was important to protect the Baron pilgrims in their quest for absolution.

The night before Kain and Cecil's mission, they joined Rosa at the Inn to have a drink together.

"To your first big mission," Rosa declared as they clinked their mugs together.

"And to your first assignment," Kain offered, still holding his mug up, and gestured toward Rosa. "Good luck tomorrow, whatever they have you doing."

Cecil took a long sip, then set his drink back down. "Too bad you can't see us off," he lamented.

"I'll try," Rosa offered. "It depends on what they have me doing." She smiled suddenly then, as if she could not help herself. "Perhaps I'll surprise you."

The first time Cecil walked through the castle in his dark knight armor, all he passed stopped in their tracks, mute and still until he was well out of sight. Cecil was silent the entire time, and that somehow made his black armor more terrifying.

This is what Odin wants, Kain reminded himself as he trailed in Cecil's wordless wake. Then, correcting himself: This is what Cecil wants.

Cecil left Kain alone on the deck of the Bloodletter, as Cecil and the rest of the Red Wings crew prepared the ship. Kain stood at the railing, watching the commotion in the airship bay as other crews readied their own ships for takeoff.

In the blur of red uniforms, a white robed figure stood out. As it drew closer, Kain recognized Rosa's golden hair, her hood pushed back from her head. She wore new robes indicating her status as a white mage; they were white, the sleeves, hood and hem lined with wide red triangles.

Delighted that Rosa had been able to come to see them off, Kain waved, expecting her to stop and wave back, then watch them depart. Instead, she kept approaching, all the way to the gangway. She paused, to talk to the Red Wings soldier standing guard there. After a brief back and forth, the soldier stepped aside, allowing Rosa through.

With a satisfied grin to herself, Rosa picked up the hem of her robes and walked down the gangway, onto the ship.

"What are you doing?" Kain asked as he approached her, confused.

Rosa never stopped grinning. "Your dark knight needs a white mage assigned to him. Who better?"

"No," Kain said, shaking his head. "You're too new for this kind of assignment."

"I'm the most experienced," Rosa said flatly, the humor and self-satisfaction gone. "I told the king as much, and he agreed. If I am to be a white mage, then I will be the best white mage there can be."

A routine mission, Kain reassured himself, trying to calm the surge of anxiety in him. They would all be fine.

The ship lurched suddenly upward. Kain turned to see Cecil at the helm, his smile wide and growing as he angled the wheel.

What could go wrong? the wind seemed to ask with a mocking laugh.