Note:Third attempt at a story like this.
First it was just about Golbez and an OC, then it evolved into involving everyone, and now it's going to be the regular story, but with some additional characters and twists.
He gazed outward at the expansive field, plant life completely foreign to him in the open for miles and miles. Several members of the world's fauna also made themselves known, grazing in the fields. The temptation to approach was great, yet he had his elder brother there to hold him back.
Despite how the two resembled humanoids, neither of them were of this world. Both were dressed in suits of white, armor crafted both for outworld exploration, as well as in zero-gravity, but, for the time being, their respective helmets were removed, revealing major differences between the two of them.
"You go in that herd of…whatever they are, who knows what'll happen?" the older gentlemen chided, sporting a healthy beard of ivory and a full head of hair. "Last time, a predator nearly got up and chased an entire group of them into camp!"
The younger of the two rubbed the back of his head. "Uh, heh, yeah, sorry about that," he sheepishly answered. "I was only trying to offer them some of the local cuisine," he said, taking out a sample he had sealed inside a circular dish, the strange green object cut off from the outside world forever. "Although, it doesn't exactly go well with our digestion, per se."
"And you figured this out, how?" the white-bearded individual questioned, then realized just how indeed. "Oh, Kluya, you reckless fool!"
"I didn't eat an entire sample!" the equally white-haired but considerably younger man with pointed ears protested. "I just took a couple of what the animals were eating and had only a select amount!" he then paused, his elder clearly not buying it. "It had…forgotten to pack lunch."
The other humanoid rolled his teal eyes. "Of course you did," he mused aloud. He then looked out at the place that had drawn Kluya's intense focus. He had to admit that the sight of such strange beasts was indeed fantastic, yet the intrigue ended with simply watching them from afar. He had little motivation to learn or study them, unlike his younger family member, who was nearly insatiable regarding the pursuit of knowledge. "Do you plan to take your findings to the Council?"
Kluya nodded. "I understand some of the Nobles' view, as a place such as this is ripe with minerals and other materials we could harvest," he said. "And, indeed, it would provide us all a great deal more space. Allow our people to grow after our…relocation prior to the Great Disaster," he then paused. "It would help us."
"Yet you don't want to take from those that already call this world home." the older of the two finished for the younger.
Kluya sighed. "Fusoya…there is more to the inhabitants of this place than mere instinctual creatures," he relayed. "True, those that hunt in the forests and jungles are to be approached with caution, but I believe that I've found evidence of intelligent life here, on this very world!" he explained. "I've seen one myself! They communicate differently, yet they still have a system in place! The creatures here aren't mindless savages that should just be eradicated! We could perhaps even learn something from them! We could…" he trailed off, finding that he was merely going in circles. "There's so much that could occur…for the better. Yet, none of that will come to fruition if they set the Giant out."
"Indeed."
Both men turned to see another approach them, donned in a pair of iridescent robes that shimmered in the moonlight, his head bald and devoid of any hair, save for a pair of thin, white eyebrows.
"Zemus," Fusoya greeted, the robed figure nodding in acknowledgment back. "Have you-"
"Yes," the bald individual answered before the other could finish. His eyes then turned to the youngest of them all. "Good news, Kluya, the Council is going to allow you to display your findings."
The young man's teal eyes lit up. "You mean…?" Zemus nodded again. "But…how did you-"
"It took some convincing on my part, as well as some gambles on their end, yet given what you said about the grazing spot for many of these creatures," Zemus approached the two, watching the far-off animals dine on plant life. "It seems that, indeed, they are safe to view from a distance."
This eases Kluya somewhat.
"However," Zemus continued. "The more predatory of these creatures are still under consideration for containment if not complete termination in some areas."
"That can't happen either," Kluya protested. "As contradictory as it may seem, the predators and prey need each other," he assured both Zemus and Fusoya. "For this planet to survive, a very delicate balance has to be maintained, and sometimes that includes some…gruesome results." While he had found the entire process fascinating, he had seen how the predators of this world hunted for their food, much of which was a rather violent and messy process. Nevertheless, from his studies, it was clear that such savagery was necessary to a degree.
Ironic, that he now advocated for a gentle approach to the more hostile fauna.
"Then I suggest that you find more studies to convince the council that they're worth preserving," Zemus instructed Kluya, turning away. "Or at least make useful pets, seeing as many of our dear nobles love to dress in style."
With that, he went off, leaving the two other men alone.
Fusoya glanced out at the field his younger brother was watching, observing the creatures moving and grazing without any knowledge that they were being watched. "I don't entirely understand," Fusoya confessed to his younger sibling. "Just what about these native species do you find so fascinating?"
Kluya shrugged and gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Shall I give you the short or long version?" he asked. "I have enough notes to reference for both."
"The general synopsis would suffice."
Kluya presented a small smile. Dry as it was, Fusoya had a sense of humor at times. "When we were originally sent here to observe and document our findings here on this world, I was uncertain as to what we would find, let alone if we would even be able to live here," he confessed. "Truthfully, I actually considered our entire mission here almost pointless."
"What changed your mind?" his elder sibling questioned.
Kluya gazed outward at the grazing wildlife yet again. "Then, while I observed these creatures at the behest of the scientific community, if not just to add to the planetary bestiary, I took it upon myself to study them further," the otherworldly being responded. "These animals, no, more than just that, these specimens, they're far greater than we initially thought. What the council and even the greatest of scientific minds deemed impossible, I've witnessed! They're intelligent, Fusoya! They have family structures! Social hierarchies! And even more…" he paused, looking around. "Until I see it for myself, I ask that you not tell anyone of what I'm about to say," the younger of the two said. "Can I trust you with that?"
Fusoya was confused, to say the least. "What sort of request is that?" he inquired.
"Please, just promise me," Kluya begged. "Not one word to anyone else."
The bearded humanoid pondered this, ultimately sighing in defeat. "Fine," he answered. "Yet, if the council asks anything, this was all your idea."
"I'm fine with that," the younger of the two answered. "Besides, it IS my idea in the first place."
Fusoya rolled his eyes. "What is it then?"
Kluya looked around, pondering whether or not anyone was within earshot. He leaned in close. "There are more creatures here than just those you see there," he whispered. "There are some that I think have an even higher evolved system of life."
The older of the two tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"
The younger was cautious, yet giddy to share this information at the same time. "There are beings that inhabit this place along with these creatures, but they're different," he said. "Fusoya," he continued, seeing that his brother didn't entirely understand. "They're like us."
Centuries Later
Kill it.
He ran, the bundle in his arms continuing to cry and hurt his ears, all the while his wound continued to bleed freely. The knife was still in his hand.
If only he knew how to cure magic.
Kill it.
The darned cretin wouldn't stop making noise, wouldn't stop driving him crazy.
It took your mother from you. Stole away your father.
And that voice…the voice that he had heard wouldn't leave him alone!
Kill it.
The boy holding the bundle had to stop, his head pounding as the newborn continued to wail and whine, dropping the blade that was still coated in blood. His blood.
KILL IT!
He could bear it no longer!
Seizing the knife, the boy raised it over the crying infant, ready to plunge it downwards, to cease the incessant noise so that, at last, for once, he would have peace and quiet.
"George, dear, do you hear something?"
The finely dressed couple riding a wagon pulled by a pair of large, bird-like creatures with long, powerful legs and bodies of golden feathers looked out the window, the normal ambiance of the forest interrupted by a most peculiar yet familiar sound.
The woman garbed in mostly pink turned around a tree and found, to her shock, a knife embedded into the bark of a nearby tree, just mere inches away from a crying infant. "Oh, by the Cosmos!"
The cry of distress garnered her husband's attention, drawing him to the site as well, the woman wasting no time in removing her robes and swaddling the infant in much more comfortable garments. "Genevieve, what is-" the man began, yet the woman had already made her way back to the wagon.
"No time, we need to get this young one to a healer, fast!"
That, he couldn't argue against. Thus, he entered the wagon with her and they headed to town, although he could tell that there was a certain look in her eye. "Genevieve," he sighed. "It won't replace the one we lost."
The woman nodded. "I know that George, yet surely you don't suggest we just leave it alone, do you?"
"Of course not," her husband shook his head. "However," he said. "Don't get too attached. We are only taking him to be seen and taken in, nothing more."
Years Later
Seen and taken in, yes.
George just didn't intend for that to be them themselves.
True, while the boy wasn't taken in as their own son, he was allowed to live in the castle, under the ward of a nursemaid who had previously lost her own son to sickness a year prior. Still, that far from stopped Queen Genevieve from doting on him.
Eventually, the infant sprouted into a young boy, who had been named by the nursemaid and Queen herself, with George's ultimate approval once he heard it.
"The boy doesn't know it, but he's got the face of a moonbeam," the nursemaid, Madame Harvey, observed when she first took him in. "He's blind to his own beauty."
"Then he shall wear that title with pride," Genevieve proclaimed. "And this is, what, the seventh child you've cared for?"
"Sixth," Madame Harvey answered, biting her lip. "Had Gregory not succumbed, then he would've been."
Genevieve pondered this detail, still baffled by the youth's ivory hair. "…Cecil."
"What?" Madame Harvey asked.
"His name," the Queen clarified. "He's the sixth child, your sixth child, and he doesn't know his own good looks, it fits with both meanings," she observed. "Of course, with your approval, Madame Harvey."
The nursemaid thought of this suggestion for a moment. "You know," she smiled. "I believe it fits him just right.
"Not to mention," George interjected, making himself known then and there. "It reminds me of another name I know of."
"And what is that, your Majesty?" Madame Harvey asked.
"...Cecilia."
Thus, the abandoned babe was christened Cecil Harvey, the newest citizen of The Kingdom of Baron.
The Kingdom, as well as the nation of Baron itself, was quite old, founded eight hundred years before the birth of its most recent King, George. The land was naturally abundant in resources, as well as a massive supply of fresh water via an expansive lake, allowing civilization to develop and eventually establish a blooming city-state. A parliamentary government was put in place, yet it didn't take long for corruption to seep its way in, as only the voices with the most influence and power were heard. During this time, the country became known for its chief exports of agriculture, and, more importantly, industry. This method of rule lasted for the past three hundred years, until tensions within the Parliament began to boil over, starting out a political, yet soon extending into a full-out civil war.
"The Bloodstained Three Days" came to be known as a period of three days and nights of consecutive violence that resulted in hundreds of deaths until the conflict was solved by then-Senator Samuel Baron, the ancestor of Baron's current King. Samuel and his family were crowned the first Royal Family of the country, fifty years after his crowning, when his son took up the throne, an army was established, as well as several specialized divisions with a separate task and specialties for each.
These divisions came to be known as the "Eight Corps of Baron."
On this day, a ten-year-old Cecil Harvey was anxiously awaiting to see who was going to be enlisted next.
"Don't tell me you're actually thinking of joining," the ivory-haired boy inwardly groaned, sensing that a familiar yet not-too-liked figure was going to make themselves known today. "There's no way that they'd let in a kid like you."
Cecil turned to see a blonde boy dressed in cheap play armor of a standard knight, only his helmet was styled into that of a draconic-like creature, a stick with a sharpened stone at the end in his possession. "No, don't be stupid," Cecil huffed. "I'm just seeing who's going where. It's interesting."
The armored boy raised a brow, curiously. "And has anyone or anything gained your interest?"
The other youth shrugged. "From what I heard, Baigan's father managed to secure a position in the King's Personal Guard Corps," he explained. "What about you? Planning on becoming a lancer?"
The blonde scoffed. "Dragoon, actually," he then looked the other child over. "You sure you shouldn't be a scullery maid like your godmother?"
Cecil clenched his fists and got up close to the other boy. "I'd have a better chance of becoming head of the King's army than you ever will at becoming a Dragoon!" he retorted. "Besides, going with the Corps your own family helped start, how original," he crossed his arms. "If anything, it just shows that you don't care about it aside from the fact it fuels your ego."
The other boy lunged forward, pushing Cecil back, yet the youth didn't lose his footing. Instead, he stood tall, ready to take on this punk who had decided to push his buttons just one too many times.
"Cecil! Kain! Stop it!"
Another shape the same size as them dashed in, coming in between the two and forcibly separating them. The interloper was a blonde girl the same age as the two boys, her hair tied in a short ponytail and she possessed eyes of teal.
"Rosa, this is none of your business!" Cecil protested. "I'm going to give this guy a piece of my mind for once!"
"And what? Get yourself grounded again like last time?" the girl, Rosa, countered. "And you, Kain," she turned to face the other boy. "Just what is your problem with Cecil in the first place?"
"I have no problem!" Kain protested. "I've got better things to do than hang around here!" With that, he left, and Rosa directed her attention back to Cecil.
"You know better than to pick a fight with him, let alone anyone," the young girl lectured. "Why even indulge him?"
"He started it!" Cecil protested. "Besides, what are you doing here anyway?"
"Well," Rosa began. "The truth is, my mother is asking if the head of the White Mages can see me," she explained.
The boy was puzzled. "What? Why?" he questioned.
The girl sighed. "She didn't say, but," she bit her lip. "I think it might be about that bird with the broken wing I brought in."
"Oh yeah, the one you found by your house?" Cecil asked, Rosa nodding in turn. "What about it?"
"Well, Mom told me that birds heal fast, having taken care of one when she was my age. But…" Rosa paused.
"But what?" Cecil pried.
A few moments of silence followed, but, ultimately, the young girl answered. "I don't think that they're supposed to heal in a matter of a few seconds."
Years Later
Rosa's mother, Joanna, proved to be wise in seeing the head White Mage, for, as it turned out, the young girl was already showing signs of developing abilities in the realm of White Magic.
While the prospect in itself wasn't too much of a shock, Joanna herself having served Baron as a White Mage, along with her husband as a Knight, had come into her powers when she was around a teenager. Rosa showed she knew the most basic of Cure spells since the age of five.
Now, around the same age her mother had been when she first discovered her abilities, fifteen, Rosa Joanna Farrell had been enlisted in the White Mage Corps of Baron and soon proved to be climbing her way up in the ranks as one of the most skilled users of White Magic in all of the Kingdom.
And upon seeing her step out of her class, the young man rushed up to her. "So, how did it go?" he questioned, eager to hear about her trials.
"Well, we had a traveling pair of Mages from Mysidia demonstrate for us today, one a user of White Magic and one a user of Black," Rosa clarified to her friend. "There was a flower brought from their kingdom to serve as an example of the effects of both," she relayed. "It was actually rather fascinating to see."
From what Rosa had described to Cecil, the lesson mostly consisted of performing various spells on this singular flower, which would then freeze over, burst into flames, or dry and wither up completely before being completely revived and brought to its former state.
"From what I've gathered, the main takeaway is that White Magic is meant to defend while Black Magic is meant to offend," Rosa stated. "Not to say that a user of Black Magic would use it for evil purposes. After all, it's the wielder that matters, not the Magic itself."
"Oh really?" Cecil asked.
"Yes," Rosa answered. "After all, if they were all truly a threat, those of Mysidia would have little problem attacking us."
Indeed, the ivory-haired young man thought. While they were not necessarily an enemy at first, the Mystical Nation of Magic and Wizardry caused quite a stir when they first made themselves known to Baron three hundred years ago, specifically via a traveling ship. From there, the leaders became fearful of these strange, new people, and wasted no time bolstering their defenses. By that point, the Dragoon Corps was formed, yet with extended contact and near-conflict with Mysidia, an eventual treaty was formed between the two nations, allowing for the creation of a passage that led from one to the other.
From what Cecil had heard, this trail was called The Devil's Road, yet no one knew where it began or ended, save for a select few.
"Well, that's actually not all," Rosa continued. "And…" she paused. "I'm not sure how to tell my mother this."
"What is it?" Cecil inquired.
The blonde teen looked down at her white robes, already dressed the part of a healer, yet she was far from a seasoned one.
Later
"...which is why they've recommended that I spend the next few months in Troia, to learn under the Epopts."
The ivory-haired young man was aghast, barely able to believe what he was hearing. "You mean…you're going away?"
Rosa nodded. "I mean, not forever, I'll of course return. After all, Baron is my home. It's just," she bit her lip. "See, this is apparently part of a White Mage's training. When they reach a certain level, they set out to learn under those more adept in the field of Magic they're studying."
"Then why can't you just go to Mysidia?" Cecil asked. "That's far closer to here! Plus, they have users of both White and Black Magic living there! Why is it so far away?"
"Apparently the best healers in all the world come from Troia," Rosa explained. "My mother said so herself. She too had trained there under the Epopts, becoming a White Mage of Baron to serve alongside my father," she continued. "From what I've heard, they have a system of government completely unlike our own, and no men are allowed into their apprenticeship."
Well, that cemented he wouldn't be able to go, Cecil realized, downcast that the next few months would be without the blonde girl by his side.
"Say," Rosa began, trying to change the subject. "Have you decided on what you'd like to be, Cecil?" she questioned. "Like, what's your aspiration?"
"Aspiration?" Cecil asked.
"Yes, do you plan to become a Dragoon like Kain or part of the Air Force like Uncle Cid?"
"No way am I ever following anything Kain's doing," the young man protested. "But, the truth is, I don't know if they have what I'm interested in here."
"And what are you interested in?"
Later
"So, a knight, basically?" Madame Harvey questioned.
"Not just a knight," Cecil clarified. "More like a specific type of knight. One of light and who's one with the spirit of valor and truth."
Currently, the young man and his mother figure were at the stove, chopping up vegetables to place in a boiling pot full of spice-flavored water. The older woman pondered what the youth could've meant for a moment, then realized just what he was talking about. "Ah," she said. "You speak of a Paladin."
"A what?" Cecil asked.
"A Paladin," Madame Harvey repeated. "It's a brave soul that fights for an ideal or cause as they would a King, only their loyalty is to what they deem as the will of the Gods."
Will of the Gods? "And that would be?" Cecil inquired, not entirely understanding.
"The Holy Way," the woman responded. "One of hardship and pain, yet ultimately, one of enlightenment," she said. "Although, I'm curious as to what exactly prompted this decision."
"Well, it's not much," the young man confessed. "It's just…The King's time as a defender of law and order was always something that I saw as…something to aspire to."
"You wish to be King of Baron?" Madame Harvey questioned.
"What? No way!"
"Relax, I'm only teasing," the woman assured her son. "Still, I think you somewhat misunderstand things, my boy," she told him. "The King may be a good man, but he's far from a Paladin, let alone a Holy Knight of any kind."
Cecil was somewhat shocked to hear this. "Then, what is he?" he questioned.
Madame Harvey paused her chopping for a moment, sighing as if she were releasing a great weight off her shoulders. "He's not a bad man, let alone a bad King," she said. "But, when it comes to matters of the heart," she paused. "He stumbles quite a bit in that department."
The young man was puzzled by this assessment of the man he came to know as his father. "But, he was married to Queen Genevive for years, wasn't he?" Was, seeing as, unfortunately, the Queen herself was no longer around, having passed away a few years prior, much to the devastation of the entire kingdom, especially her husband.
"It was an arranged marriage," Madame Harvey explained. "Albeit, I believe that they eventually came to love each other. However," she stopped again, gazing out the window, eyes centered on the setting sun in the distance. As well as the two moons hanging in the sky. "There was one that captured his heart when he was young, and, even if they're no longer here, they've yet to let go."
Midnight
King's Bed Chambers
He was looking at the moons again. Useless as it was, he couldn't help it. Their natural beauty was one of the few things that brought him any sense of peace anymore, now that this room was resided by a sole occupant.
"Genevive, you were right," King George muttered, eyes centered on the two celestial bodies hanging in the darkened abyss lit up with stars, unaware of anything else. "The young man indeed has no idea of the looker he's turned out to be," he then chuckled. "And so far, he's been the one to live the longest under Madame Harvey's care," he added. "Speaking of looker, it's clear that Joanna's daughter has a slight affection for him as well," a pause followed. "Although, I fear that his rivalry with Kain may develop into something deadly if not taken care of."
He heard something shift from behind him, looking back to find nothing amiss in the room, no shadow out of place nor any sheet disturbed save from what he had done himself. With a few more moments of hesitation, he turned back to his astral observing.
"Cecilia," he then muttered, as if saying the name were some sort of curse. "Your son is growing splendidly. However," he sighed. "I'm fearful that there are things happening beyond my control. Things that I may not be able to protect him from any longer…?!"
There was no mistaking it, he was not alone.
"You got that right, old-timer!"
Only, this realization came too late.
Tomorrow
"Promise that you'll write, yes?" Joanna asked her daughter, the White Mage to train off to Troia to further hone her already developing skills.
"I'll have a journal I'll track everything important in. I won't let you miss a single detail." The blonde teenager assured her mother, giving the tearful woman an embrace signaling her farewell.
Cecil approached. "Rosa?"
The girl turned to the young man, her smile widening. "I'll be making sure you and Kain are behaving yourselves," she told him with a hint of humor. "Still, I won't forget about you, don't worry."
She then embraced the ivory-haired young man, he in turn holding her back. They stayed this way for a good few moments before the shout for all wishing to board to come on now, forcing the two to separate.
Rosa stepped on the ship and, soon, she was seen waving from high up as the vessel sailed out into the ocean for a country far off and distant from their own.
Throne Room
"You wished to see me, Your Majesty?" Cecil inquired, bowing before the King as he sat hunched on his throne. An odd position for him to take, the young man thought.
"Ah, you…you're…" King George began, voice also somewhat strange. "Cecil…yes, I've been waiting for you," he said. "Although…remind me again what it is you want?"
The ivory-haired teen was confused. "Your Majesty, don't you remember? I requested an audience with you regarding where I would best fit in the corps?"
"Hmm…" The Monarch clasped his hands together, fidgeting with his fingers as if he weren't used to his own body. "Ah yes, that," an unusually twisted grin came to the older man's face. "I've been musing over that very question, and I believe that I've found a place you would be perfectly suited for."
Cecil raised his brow. "Already, Your Majesty?"
The King furrowed. "You question my judgment?"
"Um, n-no, Your Majesty," Cecil answered, not exactly expecting such an aggressive response. "It's just…such a decision has been reached so suddenly on your end."
"Well, I have been considering it for some time. And, should you commit yourself to fully mastering their skills and harnessing their powers, then I believe you could rise quickly in their ranks. Daresay," he paused as if the prospect was tantilizing to him. "You could even be the leader of your own army one day."
Cecil was puzzled, yet then remembered Madame Harvey's words, wondering if indeed, this meant what he believed it did. "Your Majesty," he began. "Are you requesting that I become a soldier?"
King George shifted, his movements unnaturally jittery. "More than that, my boy," he spoke, although it sounded more like an almost animalistic croak. "I plan on making you a knight."
The young man's eyes widened with anticipation. "A knight, My Lord?"
The King nodded. "Not just any knight," he clarified, grin growing wider. "You shall become a warrior that shall command the very shadows, and no one will be able to withstand your strength, for it will be fostered in the heart of darkness."
Note: First part might be a little slow, yet here's hoping I've interested you enough! Allow me to know your thoughts, and thanks!