If Golbez had any plans for Kain, he did not tell Kain that evening, instead dismissing Kain before disappearing into the throne room, followed by Barbariccia. Kain peered in, just before the doors closed, and saw a brief glimpse of both King Odin and Richard inside.
Frustrated by his inaction, Kain stalked through the castle halls on his way back to his room. If Kain received any strange or angry looks as he passed by others in the halls, he did not notice. He climbed the tower's staircase, but hesitated by his door, then turned away and kept climbing the stairs to the top floor. Cecil's door opened easily enough, with no lock barring Kain's entry.
Looking around, with everything in its place, it looked like nothing had been disturbed. But Kain knew Cecil's kind of meticulousness, and this was not it – the blankets on the bed were tucked and folded incorrectly; the curtains drawn closed instead of flung open, shutting out the night sky instead of welcoming it; the desk, too, was wrong, with the items arranged out of Cecil's order, as if someone rifled through everything, then set it back without remembering precisely how it went.
Kain made his way to the desk, tugging open the wide drawer. Kain expected it to be heavy, but it rolled out too easily, freed from its usual weight – Cecil's dark knight tome was missing. Kain slammed the drawer closed, suddenly angry at its absence. Why did he care if Odin recruited a new dark knight to replace Cecil?
Kain paced Cecil's room, trying to sort through his tumultuous thoughts, torn between relief that Cecil was finally gone and the gnawing sorrow of Cecil's absence. Rosa, too, was a limb gone gangrenous, cut away at the joint to prevent spread to rest of his body – he was better off with them gone, but he could still feel the phantom pain of their not being there.
Kain had always struggled with loneliness but realized then he had never truly been alone until now. Of course, he had his father back, but it was like Kain becoming Commander; it lacked the actual intent behind his desire, a technical but empty fulfilment of his childhood wishes. It was somehow worse than not getting it at all, because now he no longer had the fantasy to sustain him.
Kain thought about going to Cecil's roof, but even that was now soured. He did not yet know what to make of Barbariccia, knowing her so well yet so little made it hard to figure out how he felt about her. He only knew that being around her made him feel stronger, but her participation in sabotaging Rosa's flight from Baron made Kain uneasy, not knowing to what end she worked toward. Golbez wanted the Crystals, Odin wanted more power, and Richard wanted dragons for himself and his descendants – but what did Barbariccia want? Kain did not know the answer yet and that unnerved him. It made the idea of going up to the roof to be alone in the wind suddenly dangerous, unsure to whom she might be whispering his secrets.
Instead, Kain took off his armor, placing each piece on the empty bust that used to hold Cecil's dark knight armor. He wondered, briefly, what it might have been like if he had accepted Odin's offer, then shrugged aside the thought – no, he was better than that. He was a dragoon. He would show everyone how much better he was – Cecil, Rosa, Odin, Richard, even Joanna, whose disappointed eyes always made Kain feel inferior.
Suddenly exhausted by all his thoughts and the day's events, Kain climbed into Cecil's bed. He arranged himself on the edge, as if he were a boy again knocking on Cecil's door, too lonely to stay in his room alone. But now Cecil, always the boy who slept with moonlight in his eyes, was no longer there and might never be ever again.
Overwhelmed by his despair, Kain welcomed the oblivion of sleep, hoping he would not dream.
With his mind oozing Golbez's dark magic, Kain did dream again, his memories leaking through to the dreamscape.
Kain, six-years-old, sat on the steps of the inn, looking longingly across the town's main square, where a traveling toy merchant was setting up to display their wares. Hanging from long poles, marionettes dangled; across a long display counter was a myriad of different sized dolls; wooden toy soldiers, brightly painted in red and yellow, Baron's colors; and more importantly, the thing that caught his eye: surprisingly detailed wooden swords, the blade painted bright silver and the hilt a glossy grain of dark brown. Each had a unique cross guard, some painted to look like brass, some gold, others a range of plain colors, some with painted details to look like intricate metal work, in designs of different animals. Kain did not care which one, only that he was desperate to have it. Kain excitedly turned out his pockets to count his gil – only to discover that there was a new hole in his pocket, his coins lost somewhere on the streets of Baron.
Kain spent the better part of the afternoon retracing his steps, trying to recover the lost gil, but knowing the futility. Another kid probably found it already and counted themselves lucky - Kain had been that kid before and knew the unexpected joy of it; now he knew its counterpoint in his growing disappointment of just how unfair the whole thing was. He stubbornly refused to cry about it, dragging his sleeve across his eyes, smearing dirt across his cheeks.
Kain briefly considered going home and asking his father for more gil, but immediately dismissed the idea. He would have to explain what had happened and couldn't bear to see his father's disapproval on top of the awful day he was already having.
Instead, Kain sat, watching with increasing distress as each new kid approached the wagon and bought toys. Too many took swords, Kain's fear of missing out escalating with each purchase. He would be the only one without one, he thought bitterly, mad that others had them when he could not.
"Kain?" asked a tall shadow, silhouetted against the sun as Kain peered up. The figure crouched, the sun no longer against his head, and Kain recognized him as Roland Farrell – Rosa's father. "You look upset," Roland observed, then glanced around. "What's going on?"
Kain sniffled hard, determined not to cry again, despite how tears tried to well up behind his eyes. "I lost my gil," he said in a watery voice. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, fingers poking through the hole in demonstration. "The coins fell out."
"Ah," Roland said, frowning seriously. He looked around for a moment, as if worried about onlookers, then produced a coin, pressing into Kain's palm. "Go buy your toy," Roland said with a conspiratorial whisper, closing Kain's fingers over the coin.
"Really?" Kain asked, incredulous at his good fortune.
"Of course," Roland, now smiling. He took Kain's hand in his and led him over to the toy merchant.
The merchant perked up at their approach, sensing another potential sale. "What can I get for your boy?"
"Which do you want, Kain?" Roland asked, not correcting the merchant's assumption about their relationship.
It perplexed Kain that Roland said nothing, leaving Kain suddenly uncomfortable and wondering why. Instead of dwelling on the feeling, Kain looked to the toys still on display, picked nearly clean after a full day of sales. Just as Kain pointed at the last remaining sword, he spotted one of the soldiers that he had not seen from the distance. It was a knight, and instead of red and yellow like the soldiers, it was painted in dark blue and black, holding a spear at his side. Kain suddenly wanted the knight with the same fierce sense of ownership as the sword. Kain looked between the two toys, his indecisiveness only growing.
"You remind me so much of your mother," Roland remarked, unprompted, breaking Kain's intense concentration. Roland smiled again, but there was something sad about it that Kain did not understand or grasp. "I'll tell you what I always told her when she could not decide on something: right or wrong, choosing is better than not choosing."
Even as a child, any mention of his mother made Kain inexplicably uncomfortable. He shifted anxiously between his feet, his eyes on the ground to avoid Roland's nostalgic look. "I want the sword," he muttered, deciding that his first choice was best. He placed the coin on the counter. It had seemed suddenly heavier in his hand, like it had a new weighty burden had been added; Kain was glad for it to be gone.
"Sword it is!" the merchant declared triumphantly, taking the sword down from its display.
Roland accepted the toy, then knelt beside Kain, offering it over. "Here you go, Sir Highwind."
Kain took it, marveling at the weight of it, like a real sword. "Thank you," Kain said, belatedly remembering his manners and forgetting his discomfort only moments before.
"Do me a favor? Two, actually?" Roland asked, drawing Kain's attention back. "First, gather up all your clothing and look it over for any worn spots or holes. Bring it over to my house – Joanna will mend it for you." Roland looked up then, spotting Joanna across the market square, as if he had summoned her by name. He smiled, and it seemed genuine to Kain, reaching his eyes, and making them a brighter blue.
"And the second?" Kain prompted when Roland went quiet.
"Don't mention this to your father," Roland said, straightening up from his stand.
"Why not?" Kain asked, confused. This was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for Kain, wouldn't Roland want his father to know how kind his friend had been?
"You don't want him to be cross with you about losing your gil," Roland replied, offering another wave. Kain looked over and now saw Joanna in the crowd, oblivious to Roland. "It'll be just between us." Roland finally caught Joanna's attention and she waved back, then started making her way toward them.
"One more thing, Kain," Roland said, although his eyes were still on Joanna. "Learn to be content in your choices. Don't dwell on the what ifs or you'll never be happy with what you do have, always wanting more."
"What do you mean?" Kain asked, not understanding.
Roland shook his head abruptly, as if coming out of a daze. He looked down at Kain. "Don't worry about it," Roland said, trying to sound light. "Enjoy your sword and don't hurt yourself with it." Roland didn't wait for a reply, striding forward to meet Joanna in the street, reaching to take her heavy basket off her arm. Kain watched them disappear together, back toward the Farrell home on the other side of the Inn.
Kain turned around in time to see another kid at the toy cart, peering through soldiers. His heart was in his throat as he watched the other boy point excitedly at the blue knight. Gil exchanged hands, and soon the boy was running off with the knight clutched closely to him. Kain found himself with tight fists at his side, the sword in one, suddenly angry that someone else would have the knight but not him. Sensibly, it was fair that the toy went to another, and Kain knew that, but he could not help feeling like it was somehow unfair.
Two days later, Kain found the blue knight sticking out of a school bag. It had been temporarily abandoned beside the castle wall, as its owner ran playing through the courtyard, eager to stretch his legs after a long day's lessons. Kain looked around, and, seeing no witnesses, took the knight out of the bag, then snapped off its arms and sword. He did not even want it anymore, his jealousy turning the toy ugly in its warped perception. But neither could he tolerate the thought of someone else having it. Kain hastily tucked the broken toy back in the bag, then took off running, away from his crime.
Is this who you are? Golbez, wreathed in the darkness, asked, somewhere distant. You would rather destroy than let go?
Kain, not realizing there had been an audience to this selfish scene and not knowing how to respond, fled the memory, desperately wishing himself awake.
For one torturous moment, when Kain woke and realized where he was, he genuinely expected to see Cecil on the other side of the bed. But it was still empty, acutely reminding Kain of who was missing and all that had changed. Kain sighed, then got out of bed.
Kain considered putting his armor back on, then decided to leave it. No one else was using this room anymore, so why shouldn't Kain have it? It had roof access, after all, and who better on the top floor than a dragoon? If it had been good enough for Odin's previous heir, it would be good enough for the next one, Kain decided.
Still needing things from his room, however, Kain left Cecil's room behind, making his way down the stairs to the floor below. Kain was surprised to find a young boy standing outside his door, knocking hard. He startled as Kain approached, not expecting Kain to be out already.
"Cid asked to see you, Commander Highwind," the boy said formally; Kain wondered if he was old enough to be a cadet. Thirteen seemed so much older to Kain then, now finding himself surprised by this one's youth.
"Now?" Kain asked, wondering what Cid wanted from him at this hour. Then, he remembered the night before, and Cid's apprentices' involvement in Rosa's escape. "Now," Kain repeated, but this time it was not a question, but stiff agreement.
"In Cid's workshop," the boy said, as he dashed down the stairs, presumably to let Cid know Kain was on his way. Kain wondered what excuse Cid would offer for his apprentices, or if Cid would admit to helping Rosa too. Both prospects inspired anger, either for Cid's ignorance or betrayal, depending on what Cid's answers might be.
Kain was too focused to notice the increase of soldiers within the Engineering Bay, or how Cid's apprentices were suspiciously absent. As Kain approached Cid's workshop, the cadet was peering out from the door. When he saw Kain, he jumped and disappeared back inside, but not without leaving the door swinging open.
Kain pushed it aside easily and stepped in. He was immediately seized on both sides by rough hands, his vision blocked and hearing muffled as something engulfed his head – a burlap sack, Kain guessed, by its roughness.
"Let me go!" Kain demanded, panic making his voice go high. He swung and kicked his limbs wildly, trying to break free.
"Stay down and be calm!" Cid shouted from somewhere nearby. "You can either take this Sleep Potion willingly, or I knock you a few times with my wrench and then I shove it down your throat. And to be honest, Kain, after what happened yesterday, that second option is lookin' extra appealing right about now."
But Kain did not stop struggling, throwing his arms and body around, trying to knock over his attackers. "What do you want?!" he demanded through panicked gulps of air, feeling like he couldn't get enough oxygen, his heavy breathing making the air inside the bag too hot.
"I want to fix you!" Cid shouted over the chaos of the struggle. "I want to figure out what's wrong with you and fix it."
"There's nothing wrong with me!" Kain protested, knowing the lie as he spoke it but desperately denying it anyway.
"There's something wrong with you," Cid corrected him, his voice closer now. "Very, very wrong with you. You terrified Rosa and chased her out of Baron, and now my engineers can't so much as take a piss without a guard watching 'em. Do you really want to live like this?"
"You helped a traitor—" Kain started to say, trying to shrug off the grip on his shoulders, but failing.
But Cid did not let Kain finish, swinging his wrench into Kain's temple; briefly, Kain's world exploded with bright painful stars in his eyes, then everything went dark.
Kain slept, safe, warm and protected. He embraced this memory, needing the security of the moment, to calm his fears of what was happening to his waking self. He welcomed the dream moment playing out, not caring that Golbez might watch, only wanting to avoid more pain.
A woman paced beside his bed, endlessly back and forth, as dark as a shadow in Kain's dim vision. As Kain came briefly awake in the memory, he heard her softly speaking, as to not disturb sleeping baby Kain. "I cannot give it up, Joanna. Desire for it burns like fire in my veins, and only indulging it gives me any relief."
"Elena…" Joanna said, almost a reprimand, somewhere outside the scene, her voice distant and faint.
"Have you never wanted something you shouldn't have?" Elena asked, throwing her hands up in the air. "Knowing how terrible it would be, and maybe even because of that, you still long for it?"
Kain strained to hear Joanna's reply, wondering how hypocritical it would be to say to Elena, whose trust Joanna countlessly betrayed. But he heard nothing, his eyes suddenly heavy again, drifting back to sleep.
Kain woke and became aware of himself gradually. It was dark and he could not see but did not have the restriction of a bag over his head or even a blindfold, only that there was no light wherever he was. He felt himself swaying and realized he was moving, probably in the back of a wagon, if he had to guess; he could smell chocobos nearby and heard a faint wark from at least one. His arms were bound together but not his legs. His head did not throb with remembered pain, only the after-ache of healing. Wherever Cid was sending him, he wanted Kain in good condition and had had a white mage on hand during the kidnapping.
Eventually, after some time, the chocobos came to stop, and without the rattle of the wagon's wheels on the road, Kain could hear muffled conversation outside.
"You'll have to use another Sleep Potion, before you move him inside," said one voice; Kain did not recognize it.
"No," said another, and this one sounded familiar, although Kain could not yet place it. "I want him to see our faces and know who he is with."
"But—"
"If he is hypnotized or influenced by dark magic, then he is likely just as scared as we are of what's going on. If we can purge this poison from his mind, he'll need our support once he is himself again." It was then that Kain realized it was Albert speaking, his heart leaping at the recognition. "Can you trust me that he is redeemable?"
The first voice answered, "He'll be yours for a few days to try your white mage's methods. Chief's trying to slip an airship out of Baron unnoticed, and when he does, he'll come here to take Highwind to Troia." The confidence in Cid's abilities betrayed this voice now, Kain recognizing one of Cid's apprentices, although he could not remember either of their names. "They've got healing methods outside the scope of magic. He's hoping they've seen this before and know what to do."
Albert was silent a moment, then cautiously asked, "Was Kain really running through the castle and town like a mad man, looking for Rosa and calling her a traitor? He really attacked a fellow dragoon?"
"And harassed people going in and out of town, accusing them of helping her escape him. It was… unnerving to watch, like he was possessed," the apprentice reluctantly confirmed. "None could convince him to leave it alone, and most were too frightened by him to try." He paused a moment and then added, "Good luck, you'll need it."
Albert said nothing, and Kain heard a chocobo's wark, then its retreating gait as it ran away.
A moment later, Kain was suddenly blinded by the midday sun, the canvas stretched over the top of the wagon yanked free, exposing Kain to the outside. He covered his sensitive eyes as they adjusted, and a dark shape standing over him gradually came into focus. Kain inhaled, and the taste of fruit and flowers was in the air.
"How much can I trust you, Kain?" Albert asked. He looked older, with new lines around his eyes and mouth, brown hair with more threads of silver than Kain recalled. Albert's obvious worry darkened his face, making him look somber. "Do I need to leave you tied up, or can you walk?"
"I can walk," Kain answered gruffly. Albert leaned forward, knife in hand, and cut away the ropes around Kain's wrists. With his hands free, Kain pulled himself up and out of the wagon. He already knew where he was, having identified it by the scented breeze.
Highwind Manor was at the height of its springtime beauty, early season flowers still tight in bud, their fragrance only a hint of what it would be only weeks later. The estate's steward, Jon Westcott, stood waiting on the steps, wearing his concern plainly on his face. Beside him stood two other dragoons, wearing their dragon's armor, both armed with their weapons drawn. Albert held up a hand as they approached, and the dragoons relaxed from their ready battle stance, weapons sheathed again.
"You took command from me," Kain said, sounding more hurt than accusative.
"Your men were confused by your actions," Albert replied, sounding matter of fact. "You behave oddly, not like a dragoon, but skulking about the castle like a defeated man who fears the enemy around every corner. Then you attack Rosa, who is not only your closest friend but also a fellow soldier, throwing around accusations of treason." Albert paused; Kain had only seen Albert angry a few times, but now he saw the tight control Albert maintained, keeping his voice even. "Did you know the Crown detained Marion Oakes for questioning? And Cid's apprentices? The engineers have been released, but Marion's still being held. If Odin's ire doesn't cool, she might lose her head to the executioner's blade."
From Albert's mouth, it seemed so obvious how wrong Kain had been, how twisted his thinking had gotten. How had it gotten that far? Kain looked away, filled with sudden shame at his actions, and what he allowed himself to do.
"What happened to you, Kain? What did they do?" Albert asked, gently.
"I don't know," Kain answered, as honestly as he could, overwhelmed by even trying to think of it. He swayed uncertainly, suddenly off balance.
Albert put an arm around Kain's shoulder, steadying him. "We'll figure it out together," Albert said, as he guided Kain forward, up the stairs to Highwind Manor. "Whatever they did, we'll undo it."
By the time Kain came into command, there were not many dragoons left in the ranks, no more than two dozen, most of them older than Kain himself. There'd been fewer interested cadets each year, with the last having only five dragoons last to recruitment.
As Kain was escorted through Highwind Manor, he saw most, if not all, of his dragoons, watching him through the eyes of their dragon helms. He wondered what message this would send to Odin, to have the Dragoons all deserting at the same time. What message did it send to Baron? And what did it mean if Kain joined them – or if he did not?
Kain worried over all as Jon led Albert and Kain through the manor. They passed through the kitchens, into a narrow hallway; a small room at its end. "In older days, white mages would sometimes come and stay in residence, treating the nearby communities' citizens for a season or two. It was considered a privilege to host them," Jon said, inadvertently slipping into tour guide mode. He realized as much and looked briefly embarrassed. "There hasn't been a white mage here in years, but I do keep it stocked with supplies in case of emergencies," Jon added, sounding less rehearsed.
The room wasn't large – enough for a bed, basin, and shelf full of various potions and supplies. There was a single window on the opposite wall to the door, offering dim light into the room. Outside, the sky had darkened with thick clouds, the first drops of rain beginning to fall.
With Albert's hand on his shoulder to guide him, Kain reluctantly entered the room.
Jon watched with obvious trepidation. "Whatever healing you attempt, don't hurt the boy."
"I'll try not to," Albert said, leaving the rest unvoiced, but I will do what I must.
Jon seemed to sense that sentiment, worry now knitting his brow. He left, with one more uncertain glance back, just before he passed through the door. Before Kain had the courage to speak up and ask questions, the white mage arrived. He was a middle-aged man, red hair streaming down his shoulders, looking intensely serious as he entered the room.
The white mage and Albert spoke quietly together, soft enough Kain could not quite hear; he pretended not to worry but could not help his anxiety rising when they both turned to look at him, silently appraising him. Kain sat on the edge of the bed, just watching them. Outside, rain began to fall, the sound of the rain drops on the window filling the background with a pleasant tapping.
"The healer's going to examine you," Albert finally said to Kain, like he spoke to a wary animal. "Just focus on your breathing and try to relax."
The white mage lowered his head into his cupped palms, arcane words shaping the spell in his hands. Kain did not know magic well at all, but he recognized some of the common white magic spells, mostly from being often present when Rosa practiced them. But this was not one that Kain knew.
"Libra," the white mage breathed, the spell culminating in power. He turned and reached for Kain, tendrils of magic circling around Kain, probing with a gentle but impersonal touch. Kain knew the spell, then, as one used to examine a patient or enemy, for their strengths, weaknesses, and any magical afflictions or enhancements they might have. Rosa had never used Libra on him – she never needed it, always knowing Kain well enough to know what was wrong.
The white mage, finding nothing on the surface of the body, poked deeper, now trying to peek into Kain's mind. Kain tried to will himself to stillness and calmness by focusing on his breathing, but as the magic creeped further inward, Kain felt panic rise, making his chest tight, suddenly unable to get a full breath.
"No!" Kain protested, abruptly jumping up. The white mage was too close, crowding Kain, stealing too much air from the room for Kain to properly breathe. Kain pushed the white mage away, sending him stumbling into Albert.
"Kain, wait—" Albert tried to say, but Kain wasn't listening. Kain darted out of the small room, into the kitchen that preceded it. In his haste, Kain rushed through the galley style kitchen; his shoulder knocked into a stack of pans left out on the counter as he passed, sending them crashing down to the ground, the sound echoing through the empty kitchen.
As if to mimic the sound, outside, thunder boomed nearby. Despite it still being daytime, the storm overhead had blackened the skies, and now the inside of the manor was ominously dark. Kain stumbled out of the kitchen, unsure of where to go.
"Kain!" Kain heard Albert behind him. Kain's indecisiveness evaporated, and he picked a hallway at random, running away. Other voices joined in, Kain recognizing the dragoons as they shouted to one another, working together to try and locate Kain in the large manor.
Kain came to a winding staircase, both going up and down, and hesitated. Where would be best to hide? He could not take to the skies – it was dangerous because of the storm, but also useless because the other dragoons could pursue him easily.
"Master Highwind!" called a voice in an urgent whisper from somewhere above. Kain peered up the stairs and saw Jon standing there, beckoning Kain. "Come, I know a private way outside."
Kain didn't move, paralyzed by his uncertainty. Then he heard the rattle of armor and heavy bootsteps coming closer and that made the decision for him; he dashed up the stairs, taking them two and a time with his long legs. Jon, moving quickly, led Kain through the upstairs rooms, sometimes pausing to lock a door behind them after they passed through.
Finally, they came to the owner's suite, Kain recognizing the furnishing of the foyer as they entered. Jon went to the study and Kain followed. Inside, Kain realized there was no other door to exit through, and he turned to Jon, feeling betrayed and trapped.
But Jon was at the bookshelf, searching for something. What book could possibly be so important right now, Kain wondered, trying to swallow down the hysterical urge to laugh. Jon found what he was looking for, tugging the spine of a large book, tipping it outward.
Behind them, the small, unused hearth creaked open, swinging outward, revealing a dusty passage within. Kain looked back to Jon who grinned, unable to help himself. Together, with Jon leading again, they entered the narrow passage, darkness engulfing them. Kain only had the sound of Jon's footsteps to follow as he groped blindly forward. He realized they were descending, the passage pitching downward as they went.
Eventually, Jon came abruptly to a stop, and Kain realized they had run into a wall. Jon fussed with something and then an unseen door opened to the outside; Kain breathed the fresh air with gratitude as he stepped outside into the cold rain. They were behind the house, Kain realized, recognizing the weeping willows that surrounded the back of the property.
"Why are you helping me?" Kain asked, raising his voice to be heard over the insistent patter of rain around them.
"Your mother would have wanted me to help you," Jon said with a nostalgic sigh. Then, more firmly. "Come, we'll hide in the cellar until dark, then escape tonight when they can't follow." Kain remembered the cellar and its strange mausoleum of heirloom armor within, and how the shadows danced around Cecil's lantern's flickering light as he showed them Elena's dark knight armor. Kain shuddered at the thought of being there in the utter darkness but did not protest.
Jon and Kain followed the side of the house to the cellar's entrance, but as they approached, Kain saw that the large double doors were already open, the darkness inside already beckoning Kain to descend.
"Who opened this? I keep it locked." Jon said, kneeling to pick up a broken chain beside the open doors, the metal links bent open. The still closed lock dangled uselessly from one end. "How on earth…?" Jon asked rhetorically, trailing off as he peered down into the dark cellar, a sudden fear making him swallow hard.
The shadows within the cellar moved, giving Kain a sudden sense of vertigo. Up out of the darkness came a figure wreathed in shadows, their body and face obscured. Kain grabbed Jon's arm and yanked him back, stumbling as he did so.
The black figure did not acknowledge either of them, the moving shadows around them still making it hard to identify who it might be – it was not anyone Kain recognized. Their armor was as black as the shadows that crawled around them, forever twisting and obscuring. It continued up the cellar stairs, up out of the dark; Kain's blood rain cold at the sight, and he froze.
Jon resisted Kain, instead falling to his knees, hands reaching toward the sky, palms upturned. "Has our judgment day finally come?" Then he clasped his hands together, praying fervently over them. "Great Crystals, forgive our ignorance and sins because of it. Show us mercy as your avatars return to purge the land of the unworthy—"
Lightning crashed overhead, briefly illuminating the yard. Kain saw four dragoons surrounding them, their colored armor flashing brightly, then they were gone again, lost to the storm's darkness.
"Get back," Kain told Jon, stepping ahead of him, feeling suddenly protective of the old man, despite Kain's own fear of being recaptured and of the strange figure in black. He did not know whom to fear more. As if to answer him, the shadow figure moved, disappearing into the dark of the trees that lined the yard.
"Stand down, Commander," called a voice; it was not Albert, Kain realized with dismay, but instead Finn. The red dragoon emerged from the deep shadows that surrounded them, flanked by the other three. All had their weapons drawn.
"Four dragoons versus two unarmed men?" Kain asked, trying to sound flippant but feeling suddenly terrified.
"I would not hesitate to put down a wild animal who foamed madness," Finn spat back, not attempting to hide his disgust. "Stand down, or be put down," Finn warned, as he drew closer.
In the outskirts of the darkness, the shadows moved, rippling black waves distorting. It reached for one of the dragoons who flanked Finn, the one standing closest to the trees. With a surprised yelp, the dragoon stumbled forward, then fell to his knees.
"What's wrong?" Finn asked, turning to the fallen dragoon, crouching beside him. As the dragoon looked up, he sputtered wetly, spraying blood violently from his mouth, droplets splattering across Finn's helm and breastplate, a darker red than the red metal of the armor. The injured dragoon clutched at Finn's arm with a desperate grip, as if he were drowning. Finn looked up as the dragoon shuddered, then went still in Finn's arms. "Be alert!" Finn shouted in alarm.
"The Earth Arch-Fiend walks among us! Crystals grant us mercy!" Jon cried, hysterical now, sobbing openly.
The two other dragoons spun around, now facing the surrounding trees and shadows, unsure of where the attack came from or even what it was. One dared a step closer and was rewarded for his bravery by something seizing him suddenly and dragging him away, taken by the darkness. Lightning flashed overhead again, and Kain saw the dragoon, armored in green, momentarily, fighting off what looked to be a dark apparition. The light died and all went dark again. Thunder belatedly boomed at the same time as the dragoon's terrified scream.
Then all went quiet.
"What's going on?!" Finn shouted at the sky.
The other dragoon Jumped away, lost from sight. Kain heard a rattle as the armored dragoon landed on the manor's roof, probably intent on retreat. But the rippling shadows followed, convalescing in a dark cloud overhead. Kain heard a thud, then watched as the dragoon's body fell bonelessly off the roof, hitting the ground hard. Kain wasn't sure if it was the impact that killed him or if he died before falling; either way, the dragoon did not move.
"Fight me like a man!" Finn demanded, waving his sword wildly, his breath hard and panting.
Kain saw another flutter of darkness, a new shadow emerging from the trees. Finn turned to meet it, his sword drawn and ready. The shadow had its own blade in hand, long and black, dripping red. "Go," the shadow said, its voice too low and raspy to tell if it were man or woman. "Leave or die like the others."
"Call it off!" Finn demanded, now turning to look at Kain. He had his sword still raised, and took a determined few steps toward Kain, perhaps trying to intimidate him into compliance. Kain blinked and the shadow moved, stealing across the yard, metal hissing as it passed. The shadow went through Finn, then disappeared into the surrounding dark. Finn took one halting step forward, then suddenly stopped.
"I…." Finn tried to say, before his head fell forward, neatly separated from his body. It hit the ground and rolled, the impact knocking the severed head loose from the dragon's helm. Finn's head rolled a few times, then stopped. Kain saw the disbelief in Finn's still open eyes, the look of shock permanently frozen on his face.
Behind Kain, Jon began praying anew, whispering fiercely to himself. "Please, oh avatar of Earth and Rebirth, we do not deserve your mercy, but I beg of you!"
A new figure appeared, dressed in a robe that might have once been white but was yellowed with age; it looked like a funeral shroud. Behind it stood the deadly shadow, still too dark to make out details. "Go back to Baron," the shrouded figure hissed, sounding male, the smell of the grave pungent in the air as he spoke. "Our Master awaits your service."
"Who are you?" Kain asked, his voice shaking.
"Scarmiglione," the figure answered, before turning around to face the manor. He reached, pointing with a hand that now looked oddly like a creeping tendril in the darkness around him. "Leave this place, and I will teach these dragoons the consequences of crossing Lord Golbez."
The shadow figure flickered, moving quickly in the dark again. From inside the manor, Kain heard raised voices of remaining dragoons. At first, they shouted back and forth, barking orders or warnings, but were soon replaced by screams – brief terrified shrieks, followed by silence.
"Come on!" Kain said to Jon, grabbing the older man by the arm and dragging him along. Jon stumbled a few times, and Kain helped him back up, both looking back with fear that they were followed. But nothing seemed to pursue them as they ran around the house, making their way to the chocobo stables.
The birds were agitated by the storm and noise, shifting restlessly in their stalls. Kain scrambled to saddle two of them, helping Jon up on the back of one before mounting himself. "Go!" Kain commanded, kicking his heels into the chocobo's side. The bird responded promptly, running skittishly out of the tables, its rider's fear fueling its own.
As they fled down the road, already soaked by the relentlessly falling rain, Kain risked a glance back at the Highwind Manor. More screams filled the air, and a small part of Kain privately hoped that at least Albert might survive. Turning back to the road ahead of them, Kain determinedly set his attention back on returning to Baron, back to King Odin, his father, Barbariccia, and most importantly, back to Golbez.
Kain knew, at least, that the darkness harbored inside of him was glad; it offered safety and security, like the mother's love Kain would never know.