Prompts:
11. 33%
12. Dead Wrong
13. Running Away
14. Judgment
15. Seeking Solace

"Someone took a ladder from my workshop," Cid declared, gruffly. "An' I found it against a wall outside. So, who would be playing on the roof?"

Cecil, only nine years old, said nothing, eyes on the floor.

"I figure, there's a thirty-three percent chance it was you," Cid continued anyway. "Or Rosa or Kain. Am I yellin' at the wrong kid?"

"I like heights," Cecil shyly admitted. "I feel more like myself up in the sky."

Cid considered Cecil closely, then asked, "Would you like to fly, someday?"

"Do I ever!" Cecil answered with enthusiasm.

Anger immediately forgotten, Cid smiled.

"You're dead wrong," Cid interrupted abruptly. Both Odin and Cid looked surprised by the outburst. Cid found a thread in courage in the stunned silence, and continued, "Cecil's too kind-hearted for this."

"Cecil will be a formidable Dark Knight," Odin replied, "And it was offered, not ordered; Cecil chose freely."

"Freely?" Cid laughed, feeling suddenly giddy in his defiance. "Cecil would do anything you ask. You'll push him to death, and he'd let you."

"If only all soldiers were so loyal," Odin said, dangerously serious.

"If only," Cid countered sarcastically, wondering if he was finally brave enough to say no.

Cid had been trying to run away from Baron since Cecil returned from Mysidia. Odin had soldiers everywhere and it was impossible to move within the castle or town unobserved. Reluctantly, Cid continued outfitting the ships for their next mission, waiting for the right moment to leave.

He still hadn't found his courage when the Red Wings, loaded with deadly cargo, departed, heading north toward Damcyan. When the ships returned with news of Damcyan's fiery destruction, Cid knew he had waited too long; he'd been complicit in a war crime, his hands as bloody as Odin's.

Never again, Cid promised.

"You are accused of desertion and treason," Odin said, his big voice like waves crashing on the shore. "What do you have to say?"

Cid, wrists bound in chains, had been forced down to his knees before the throne. He met Odin's eyes with a defiant glare. "I will not help you in your massacre anymore. If that makes me a traitor, then I'm ready for your judgment."

"I should have you hanged," Odin hissed, the sound uncharacteristic for the King. "But you are still needed." He smiled eerily. "Take him to the dungeon."

Strangely, the air smelled of salt.

"How long do you think Cagnazzo was posing as King Odin?" Cecil asked, hesitantly, one night in the Troian Forest, as they set up camp. "It might've been years. Was it Cagnazzo who wanted me to be a Dark Knight?"

"Perhaps," Cid answered carefully. "I don't think we'll ever know when he changed."

"But it's possible?" Cecil pressed, obviously seeking solace in the unlikely idea. "Maybe Odin never meant to…"

Cid considered the new Cecil, in his shining paladin's armor and holy blade. Would the truth help, or hurt? Cid wondered, unsure.

"It was Cagnazzo," Cid lied; Cecil looked relieved.