Under the effect of Joanna's Sleep Potion, Kain slept, but fitfully, maintaining a thin thread of awareness of what happened around him. He vaguely felt his body moving, swinging as he was carried by the arms and legs between two people. He thought one of them might be Joanna, but heard her calling out instructions, sounding distant and distorted.
Kain struggled against the bonds of the Sleep Potion, trying to break back through to consciousness. He kept up the fight until he heard Joanna's softly murmured spellcasting, knowing the spell she crafted, the arcane words already burned into his mind: Libra.
White-hot panic filled him, and Kain fled, away from waking, tumbling with gratitude into the void that awaited him.
Kain dreamed.
Normally, he would have fought, struggling against the pull, but this time he welcomed it. He found himself desperate for the shelter it offered, where he could be blissfully unaware of what happened in the waking world.
What would Joanna find within him, he wondered, what broken thing inside that made him so weak to Golbez's lure? Could she fix it? And did Kain want her to, his cowardly parts knowing what judgment he would face, having betrayed all his loved ones? Wouldn't it just be better to stay broken, and cling to the excuse, Golbez made me do it, pretending he had no desire for all he did and thought? Wouldn't it be better for his shame to stay silent?
Hadn't Kain always wanted Rosa? Hadn't he always hated and loved Cecil? Taking Rosa and killing Cecil would finally mean an end to the constant conflict of his soul. Could Kain really maintain the lie that he had and continues to have no control of himself?
It was these daunting questions that Kain feared the most, fueling his reckless flight to escape Joanna's Libra spell and all it examined.
Instead, Kain dreamed – but not his own.
"You are a hard man to break, Yang Fang Leiden."
At first, Golbez's voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, filling Kain's head, but as dreams do, the scene suddenly materialized around him. Golbez stood on a winding path up the summit of a large mountain, its terrain unfamiliar to Kain. In this dream, Golbez did not wear his armor or helmet, and the whistling wind around them tugged insistently at his hair and cloak, sending both into a wild dance.
Yang snapped into focus next, standing opposite of Golbez. He looked around them, recognition making his eyes widen, just briefly. Yang quickly mastered himself, his expression neutral again, then looked back to Golbez. "Not even this horror will make me bend to you."
"I believe you," Golbez conceded, too easily. "You are the master of yourself, a skill you learned over the years, through a carefully cultivated discipline you developed through the trials of your life." Golbez smiled; it seemed strangely authentic, which made it all the more terrifying. "So few people know themselves as well as you do."
Yang said nothing, his breathing deep and steady, in counted out measures.
"It makes me wonder," Golbez continued, conversationally, "What sort of man would you be, without such experience? Without the wisdom of your memories to guide you?"
Yang's jaw clenched; his mouth set in a grim line – but still he said nothing.
"What would you forget, if you could?" Golbez asked; Kain knew that Golbez already had the answer, but asking was part of his cat and mouse game. Kain didn't know if Yang was brave or foolish not to play along.
Golbez turned aside, and the rest of the scene filled in: on the plateau just below them, dozens of monks were arranged in neat rows. All faced away from the mountain, toward the light of the rising sun the eastern horizon. They moved gracefully in the morning's golden rays, like motes of dust floating along on the wind. Their practiced movements were not individual kicks or punches, but a fluid continuation of one maneuver to the next.
"Do you really want to remember what happens next?" Golbez asked.
"It would be a disgrace to their memory if I did not," Yang replied, in tight control of his words and even tone. "I would not choose to forget them, no matter how painful this vision may be."
"You misunderstand me," Golbez said, turning back to Yang. Below, a group of Goblins began swarming onto the plateau. The first few monks, taken unawares, were dispatched easily by the Gobins' crude axes. Other monks, now warned by their fallen brethren's gurgled cries of surprise, turned to meet the attacking monsters, and a messy battle broke out. "There is no choice."
Yang did not reply, only watched the unfolding slaughter of his monks as they were overwhelmed by the Goblins' sheer numbers.
Beside Yang, Golbez brought his hands to his mouth, whispering a spell into his cupped hands. As power collected between his fingers, his palms began to glow with dazzling green light. As the spell reached its conclusion, Golbez opened his hands, and the green light swirled around, forming three large coiling circles. They wrapped around Yang, on a perpetual spin around him. Yang grunted, but did not move, now trapped in place by the Hold spell.
"What you don't realize, Yang, is that I'm holding only part of you here. What you specifically are, in the whole of yourself, is the sum of your memories and what the story of your life has made of you." Golbez paced around Yang, assessing the strength of the spell. "What kind of man do you think you'll be if you don't remember who you are? What will you allow yourself to do?"
"You cannot," Yang managed to say, the words strangled in his throat, the Hold spell pressing him too firmly. Kain felt the urge to swallow, but had no mouth or throat; still, he thought he felt a familiar pressure – where did he know this feeling?
"And while your memory-less self is busy doing whatever is ordered, do you know what you'll be doing?" Golbez asked, now smirking. "You'll be enjoying the beautiful view."
Below, the massacre continued. A few monks survived but were cornered up against either the cliff drop off in front of them, or to the stone of the mountain behind them, with Goblins rapidly closing in on them. One by one they fell, either to axes swinging into them, or falling off the plateau to the rocky depths below.
Except one, Kain realized, still bodiless and drifting, barely aware of himself as he watched. One monk held off his attackers with a blur of punches and kicks. He dashed around a group of Goblins, lightning fast, and as he came closer into view, Kain realized it was Yang – or rather, the past Yang within this memory. The Goblins pursued Yang, some running over the bodies of the monks, trailing bloody footprints behind them.
Yang turned to meet them, fists up, his legs braced. The air crackled with purpose, power gathering around Yang. As the Goblins made their approach, axes held high over their heads, Yang launched himself forward. He Kicked one, and the momentum of the Kick propelled him to the next Goblin, and with each subsequent hit, he bounced between them all. His Kicks were savage, throwing one to the ground, snapping another one's neck with a well-placed blow to the head. Yang was unarmed, but his punches were deadly enough, caving in the ribs of a Goblin who had dodged the initial Kick.
With Goblin bodies littered around him, past-Yang stood, panting hard, blood smeared up his arms and legs, splattered across his chest and face. He looked like a demon from the depths of the fabled Underworld, come to collect the sinful for their deserved punishments.
There was no time to rest and recover, however, as another group of monsters approached.
"Cecil…" current-Yang croaked out, still paralyzed by the Hold spell.
"Cecil won't be rescuing you this time," Golbez remarked, and as he spoke, the scene on the plateau reset: the unbloodied monks back in their neat lines, practicing with the sunrise; the Goblins back in the shadows, readying their axes, preparing for their ambush.
"No," Yang protested weakly, and Kain was surprised to see tears standing on the monk's cheeks.
"You will watch," Golbez said, tonelessly. "Over and over again, until it drives you mad or until there's nothing left of the man you remember yourself as." Golbez turned away, away from both Yang and the plateau and its repeating scene of carnage. "Meanwhile, the new you will be getting acquainted with how we do things in Baron, and we shall see what kind of man you really are."
Yang let out a wordless moan, not looking at Golbez but watching as the monks tried and failed to defend themselves, again.
"Enjoy," Golbez said, walking away, from both Yang and the endless nightmare.
The scene around Kain distorted, then abruptly faded.
Kain did not let go of Golbez's mind, however, clinging tight, like a barnacle to a ship, or a tick on an animal. Unaware of Kain's presence, Golbez quickly left Yang's dream behind, but then slipped into his own.
A boy stumbled through dense forest, his palms dirty, bloody, and bruised from pushing through tree limbs and bushes. Each scratch on his hands and arms pulsed with pain, but he tried to ignore it, still intent on trying to find his way.
Finally, the tree line broke into a small clearing. Now outside of the thick foliage, the sun seemed unnaturally bright, and the boy squinted up at the sun like he was surprised to see it. Then, a cloud passed over, dimming the sun, making the world darker.
"Is it enough for you?" the boy asked of no one. By his voice, Kain recognized the boy as Theodor, whose dream Kain had witnessed through Golbez once before. Was this another? Kain tried to make himself as small as possible, not knowing if Golbez lurked nearby. "Have I sown enough chaos and hatred for you? Need you more?" Theodor spoke with a boy's voice, but it was an adult's words, heavy with the weight of his years.
You know the answer, answered another, a malevolent whisper in the back of the mind. I must have the whole wretched planet and everything within it.
"You shall have it," Theodor replied, though there was a weariness in the words. Then, added belatedly, "Master." Theodor sounded so much like Kain responding to Golbez that it sent a shiver of revulsion down Kain's spine.
Kain desperately wanted to get away from this dream, trying to pretend he did not know what it meant or who Theodor truly was. Something tugged at Kain's awareness in the waking world, and, grateful for the opportunity, Kain followed it, fleeing Golbez's strange dream.
Kain became alert with a shout, a sharp pain exploding from his chest. His eyes flew open to Joanna leaning over him, watching him with concerned eyes that reminded him too much of Rosa. Joanna had a closed fist pressed into his sternum, the pressure of her knuckles digging into his chest, making the world dizzy with pain. At his sudden waking, Joanna jumped back, withdrawing from him, and Kain felt instant relief.
Kain sat, rubbing his chest with his palm, straining for full breaths. "What did you do to me?" He felt strangely exposed before her, wondering what she had – or had not— found.
"Where did you go?" Joanna asked her own questions instead of answering his, her voice gentle. "Without you fighting me, I should have been able to find what spell Golbez left within you, and perhaps undone it. But…" she looked away, chewing in her lip in thought. "But there's a part of you missing, hidden too deeply for me to find. Golbez's magic must be there too, in with whatever he has kept from you that makes you fully yourself."
"Hold," Kain said, holding his head in his hands. "I watched him do it, to another. He traps the part of you that can resist his temptations and separates the whole of you from it. And then you are a man who cannot say no to what is offered because…" Kain hesitated, looking up from his hands at Joanna, then, said instead, "Somehow, he has fashioned Hold to such an end."
Finally having named it, Kain felt the shape of the hole within himself, the missing piece that kept him honorable and fair, that kept his jealousies and greedy nature in check and tempered his desire for more of everything and everyone. It was his shame, Kain knew, because he felt none.
"Now that you know what's missing, can you not find it? Search for the missing part and try and free it? Become yourself again?" Joanna asked cautiously. "With the Libra spell, can we work together?"
"No," Kain replied quickly, desperate to deny her idea. His shame cried from its prison, trying to free itself, but the rest of Kain was glad to be liberated from the heavy expectations his shame placed upon him. He knew now it was this sense of shame that had guided him through life, keeping him from being the worst version of himself. Whenever Kain had failed, it was his shame that motivated him to try harder, needing to replace the dreaded feeling with something he could be proud of instead.
Joanna watched him, her expression serious and searching, wordlessly trying to determine something. Finally, she nodded to herself. "You will need someone you trust to find the Hold spell within you and undo its binds. Libra, then Esuna." She hesitated, only for a brief second, before continuing, "Rosa can do it. She knows you well enough. If…" Joanna looked away, tears suddenly filling her eyes. "If she can. Tell me, is she at least safe?" she asked, voice trembling.
"For now," Kain said, his voice rumbling deeply in his chest. He got up from the bed, and Joanna stood aside, allowing him access to the bedroom's door. Kain looked around and realized he was in Rosa's bedroom, and that somehow made this conversation so much harder. "She is alive."
"Is she with Cecil? Did he lead her into trouble?" Joanna asked, following Kain as he exited the bedroom. "Can you at least tell me where she is?"
Kain couldn't, even if he wanted to, because he had no idea where the Tower of Zot was. He said nothing as he approached the door and pulled it open.
"Get out of Baron as soon as you can, Kain," Joanna said, and the tears were gone from her voice, now hardened. "A revolution is coming, and you don't want to be on the wrong side."
Kain hesitated, his hand hovering over the door's knob. He looked over his shoulder at her. "Who was here with you when you drugged me? Who is helping you with this so-called revolution?"
"People who wouldn't hesitate to slip a knife between your ribs if you are in the wrong place, helping the wrong people," Joanna answered, then reached around him to open the door herself. It swung open to the outside, sending morning light spilling brightly within.
Kain lifted his hand to block the light until his eyes finally adjusted, and he saw a man standing outside of Joanna's door. It was Marion's father, Kain realized with sudden alarm. The Weapon Shop's owner, Smithy Oakes, had seemingly aged overnight, his cheeks hollow and sunken within his face. He fixed Kain with a narrowed glare, then spoke with a rusty voice, "Leave Baron while you still have legs to carry you."
Kain didn't need to be told twice; he fled.
The Red Jenny, a small but fleet airship, meant mostly for speedy diplomatic missions, gained altitude over Baron slowly. Her engines were not as powerful as the typical Red Wings war machine, so she leveled off much closer to the ground than most.
Still, she was fast, maneuvering easily around Baron's rocky coast, leaving the castle behind them. Kain leaned against the ship's railing, watching the scenery speed by, glad to be gone of Baron and its strange intrigues. Perhaps the distance from Golbez, who had stayed in Baron, would help. Without Golbez's eyes constantly on his back, Kain could talk to Rosa, and together, they could figure out—
On the beach, a figure emerged from the foamy wake of the lashing waves, seemingly out of nowhere, materializing from the sea itself. Kain saw the creature's scales glinting blue green in the sunlight and recognized him at once – Cagnazzo, with his strange misshapen turtle's head and body. Cagnazzo shook the water from him, like a dog shaking its coat dry, and suddenly he was someone else, he was… he was…
Kain blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. It must be the after-effects of Joanna's Sleep Potion, Kain told himself. He did not see King Odin on the beach, stretching his arms into the air, as if to test the length of them – that was only Kain's wild imagination, and nothing more.