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Lunar Song Chapter Eight: Quisling

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Quisling

Above them extended the ceiling of the throne room, its dark arches shadowed in the dim torchlight. The runner down the isle was a rich scarlet, muffling the footfalls of the Dark Knight and his companions as they approached the throne. Golden statues of serpentine dragons and willowy winged women flanked either side of the narrow pathway, a silent, gold gazed audience for the young man's approach.

He was reminded of another hall, one not quite so grand, stone walls haunted with flickering shadows cast by torchlight, a simple wooden throne resting at its head instead of a gold monstrosity. It was in that place that he had been stripped of his last remaining freedom, his once proud wings clipped.

He could only hope this meeting would fare better than the last.

King Lao, it appeared, was an aged man with a severe face whose true nature was belied by the laugh lines about his eyes. Of course, no sympathy for the Dark Knight could be found within them, and Cecil could not say he blamed the monarch.

"Tell me," King Lao said in a deep, steady voice, "what it is that brings you to Fabul, Dark Knight of Baron."

Cecil met the Monk-King's eyes with an unflinching gaze, "I offer you a warning, Your Highness." He paused, and when the room remained steeped in silence he continued to speak. "As you well know, Baron seeks the conquest of the world's Crystals. They have decided to wage war to obtain them." He paused, placing his hand over his heart. "I fear, Your Highness, that Baron now seeks Fabul's Crystal. I ask that you allow me to assist in its defense, so that we may stand against my homeland's tyranny and prevent her from further disgrace."

"This, from the Dark Knight who destroyed Mysidia," the King's eyes narrowed in cold hatred. "Do you think I should trust you? For all I know, you're leading them here." He stood, his fists clenching into balls at his side, and Yang moved to stop him, but Lao turned his fierce eyes upon the Monk. "No, Yang. One good deed does not justify a lifetime of evil. Had he sworn off that blade, the situation may be different, but still he wears it at his hip!"

Cecil's eyes never wavered from the King's form, though he felt his throat constrict.

"King Lao."

It was Edward's soft voice that rang through the chamber, filled with a benevolence few ever learned the mastery of. Cecil was taken off guard.

"Prince Edward, I had not noticed you," King Lao lowered himself to his throne as if embarrassed. He glanced about nervously, "Tell me, where are King Gilbart and Queen Elise?"

"They were murdered in a Baroni fire bombing." His voice did not waver, as it had when he had spoken of his family earlier. It was calm. Controlled. Cecil could but detect a hint of hesitance in his voice.

The silence about them grew to an unfathomable depth.

"The Red Wings-" Lao began.

"Took our Crystal," Edward finished simply. Everyone looked stricken; King Lao looked sick. Edward continued. "Sir Harvey was not the man at their helm. In fact, he valiantly tried to prevent the attack, though I am afraid he was late in arriving. I have traveled with him here knowing his intentions were pure and wishing to offer him any support I could muster." Edward continued slyly. "And, as I am sure you well know, we bankers are shrewd creatures. It is impossible to pull the wool over our eyes, so to speak."

Lao was quiet, his head bowed in obvious mourning. Finally, he looked up, giving Cecil an unreadable look. "Forgive me, Dark Knight. It seems you are an earnest man. I have judged you by your reputation alone, and for this I am sorry. I was simply concerned for the well being of my Kingdom," he stood once more, and stepped down from the dais.

Cecil was about to respond, but the doors at the end of the hall slammed open, and Li stumbled in, flanked by Tai and several other young monks. His face was as pale as the grave, and he looked weak kneed. "Your Highness!" He called out, his voice wavering. "Airships on the horizon! Fifteen of them! R-"

"Red as blood," Cecil said evenly, though he felt his stomach churn. "They'll be flying in a Zhu Migration Pattern. Their colors are white and red, the red an emblem in the form of a drake. They are moving with terrifying speed, and appear to be growing ever larger by the second." He closed his eyes, envisioning the Red Wings in the horizon of his mind. "King Lao, please allow me to lead the assault," he entreated. "I know the Red Wings better than I know my own self. I can help you."

When he opened his eyes he found King Lao standing directly in front of him; had he been less tempered he would have recoiled in shock. He stood two heads higher than the Dark Knight, even at his age, and his grave eyes made him a bit intimidating. With a sudden darting movement, he bowed and spoke in a low, even voice. "Sir Harvey, my Kingdom is in your hands. Please, save my people."

Suddenly, Cecil changed. His attitude of careful respect disappeared, replaced by an air of authority, his meek and respectful spirit melting away to favor the stalwart confidence of a leader. Cecil turned toward the small group of Monks who had gathered at the foot of the dais, crowding about the Dark Knight.

He addressed them, "I need someone to hail a servant to fetch my armor." He then turned to Li and Tai. "Li, take Rosa and Rydia to the infirmary. I want them to assist with the wounded. Tai, take two other men to the village and gather the citizens. Take them to the dungeons here in the Palace; they will be safest here. Women and children take priority."

Li took Rydia's hand and began to lead her away, but the green haired girl cast Cecil a frantic look. "Take care of Rosa for me," he told her, his eyes locking with Rosa's momentarily before he returned his gaze to Rydia. Rydia's face drew up into an expression of resolve, and she allowed herself to be lead away.

Cecil swallowed his apprehension over Rosa, and turned back to the remaining Monks, "Gather whatever equipment you need and meet me back here in thirty minutes. We do not have much time. Edward-"

"I'm fighting, too, Cecil," Edward declared, his honey colored eyes full of determination. "I won't be dead weight."

Knowing how stubborn the prince could be, Cecil turned his attention toward the king, "Please head for safety, King Lao. I will handle everything, if you lend me Yang. I will need his knowledge of the Palace infrastructure on my side if I am to protect the Crystal."

The King nodded his consent before being ushered away by his Chancellor, leaving Cecil standing in a nearly deserted throne room with Edward and Yang at his side. The chamber now felt even more massive and empty than it had when he walked toward the isle to meet with King Lao only a brief time before.

Still, he had no time to dwell on his own feelings about the situation. The Dark Knight removed his tunic and pulled his scarf from where he had fastened it around his bicep. He tied up his hair and loosened his collar and cuffs and removed his scabbard from his belt, holding it in his hand.

"How many walls are there between the Gate Bridge and the Inner Palace?" Cecil asked Yang; he'd not thought to count them on his way in.

"Three," replied the Master Monk. "Four, if you count the door to the Crystal Chamber."

"Can we station guards at the entrances?"

Yang nodded.

"Good. We will meet the ground forces with any remaining Monks you have on hand."

A servant was admitted, cradling Cecil's armor against his chest. He placed it at Cecil's feet and politely offered to help the Knight with the task of putting it on. Before long, Cecil was once again garbed in the darkness of hell, standing on the third step of the dais, facing the small gathering of Monks there.

Though their faces were grim their eyes held respect for him, and Cecil knew they would follow his orders without question; he only hoped their faith was not misplaced. With a flourish, they bowed to him, their hands clasped in front of their bodies, and Cecil realized they were waiting for him to speak.

"Men" he said, and even the walls seemed to listen, "I know what it is to stand where you are now. I know what it is to be asked, as someone who feels inexperienced, to risk your life for a cause." He met their eyes and saw understanding there. Encouraged, he continued. "But you know of loyalty to your people, and you know of honor, and I am certain you also know of sacrifice." There was a mutter of agreement. "I have sworn my life to the defense of the innocent, something else we share, and as a more experienced warrior I now share with you this piece of advice." He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "Say your prayers now, settle with your demons, for we face the very forces of Chaos, forces that threaten to consume us. Tonight we fight, and if we fall, at least we will fall knowing we have died for love. Hold this in your heart, and you will not falter."

For awhile, the room was silent, but then Yang spoke up. "What are your orders, Sir Cecil?"

Cecil looked at the faces of his two companions. In Yang's face he found the resolve to fight and the desire to protect his people, and deep in Edward's eyes he found fear, but he also saw determination and an overwhelming desire to do what he thought was right. Drawing strength from their resolution, Cecil addressed the Monks, "I want squads of four placed at all the doors leading to the Crystal Chamber, and guards in the passages to the dungeons. The rest of you come with me," he moved down the dais, "We will meet the main assault force."

His orders were swiftly followed, and the group departed.

It was not long until they emerged into the light of the morning.

Indeed, Cecil could see the airships on the horizon, smears of red against the blue of the sky. The twin moons had not yet set, and they, too, loomed in that sky, the Red Moon still burning. The Red Wings would be sure to take the moon as a sign of good fortune.

To Cecil it had become the omen of death.

They moved like furies across the sky, though to the Dark Knight it seemed as if their arrival took eons. They seemed to swell as the sky grew ever more pregnant with their red hulls.

Then, without warning, monsters were raining from the sky, slithering toward them like a sick, black, smoke. He could feel Edward tense beside him, but had no time to worry about the Prince, as the beasts descended upon them.

With a single, fluid, movement he loosed his blade, unleashing his fury upon the advancing horde. He was aware of Yang's calculated blows and Edward's soft song through the din of battle, but little else until tremors shook the ground beneath his feet.

"Fall back!" Cecil ordered as bombs screamed overhead, spitting crimson fire, "We'll have to hold our ground in the keep!"

Away from the curling flames they fled, into the cool retreat of the dark keep, the only light that of flickering torchlight. Still outside, a lone group of Monks defended the people.

The Outer Palace, which Cecil barely remembered passing through the day before, was where the guards made their home, it was the last defense before the peace of the Inner Palace's gardens, and was where they would make their stand. Despite the cool of the building sweat still rolled down Cecil's back as he doubled back further into the dark building, parrying the blow of one of the Red Wings leading the ground forces.

"What madness is this?!" he heard Yang demand as the doors grated close.

"They did not employ the use of monsters under my command," Cecil replied shortly as the doors groaned under the pressure of claws and the force of the heat. "Hold your ground!"

Like a clay pot thrown against the wall, the door burst, sending splinters of wood in every direction. A steady flow of monsters and men crept in through the narrow hole, much like a river, and in the hallway the Dark Knight and men of Fabul fought against the onslaught of Red Wings.

It was not long, however, before Cecil was barking order to retreat, "Through the gardens! Bar the door!"

Through the gardens they raced, into the maze of halls that looked pitifully straightforward to Cecil now that they were caught in the heat of battle. "Be sure to lead them away from the side wings. We make our final stand in the throne room," Cecil told the dwindling force. "If we can outlast them, we can keep them away. They will have a limited supply line."

There was another crash and the door failed. Its hinges broke, slammed into the dirt.

Cecil, once again began to cut down the creatures that came toward them, backing himself deliberately into the barred throne room doors, which opened as the guards pushed upon them. Soon enough, Cecil and his troop were locked inside the vast chamber.

Edward looked sick, positively weakly, bracing himself against one of the statues, and Yang shone with sweat. Cecil himself appeared calm and collected, in part due to the fact that his armor hid him from view, but also due to his combat experience.

Suddenly, there was a groaning noise as the doors creaked slowly open. The throne room was breached!

"Damnation!" Cecil cursed, rushing forward to meet the onslaught once more. "Yang! Where do we go?"

"The Crystal Chamber!" replied the monk, closer to the Dark Knight than he had suspected. "I will open the pathway!"

They began their withdrawal to the confines of The Crystal Chamber, but Edward was not moving, too exhausted from their battles to move on without being physically dragged. The monsters closed in on him, like a dark tide.

It was Cecil and Yang who came to his rescue. Yang pulled the Prince away from the monsters, and Cecil channeled his energy into a dark wave that sent the creatures to their knees, shrieking in terror and pain.

Back to the door, Cecil fought off the encroaching monsters as Yang, still supporting Edward, pressed a switch on the wall, opening a hidden doorway in the wall. The remaining group disappeared through the hole in the wall, and the doorway slid closed with a shudder.

"I-" Edward panted. "I am sorry. It- it seems…"

"Enough. Regain what energy you can," commanded Cecil, sitting with his back toward the Crystal's dais. "We must rest while we are able."

The Dark Knight was unsure how long they spent in that glass smooth room, the Crystal flickering to occasional darkness as tremors of the fire bombing shook the foundations of the fortress. It was nearly silent, other than the groan of ancient stone as it was bombarded by fire, and the heavy breathing of Edward.

Then, without so much as a whisper of warning, the door to the chamber rose, sending beams of dusty sunlight through the calm darkness of the Crystal Chamber.

Cecil stood, blinking into the light, his hand resting warily upon the hilt of his blade as a shadowy figure advanced upon them.

"Cecil."

Immediately, the Dark Knight felt himself relax, the voice one he had known for most of his life. He smiled, relieved to see that the man looked unharmed. "Kain!"

Kain did not smile, garbed in the full arraignment of a Dragon Knight, clutching his lance in hand. Cecil suddenly felt wary of his friend, as if the man who walked toward him were not Kain at all, but a monster who wore his skin. Cecil stepped backward, feeling his stance grow defensive, "Kain, I'm glad you're all right."

A glimmer of some unnamed emotion flashed over his features, but when he responded his voice was cold. "I had hoped you had survived." Kain lunged forward, landing in front of him with a grace only Dragon Knights could seem to muster. His lips drew into a sneer, and the Dragon Knight raised his lance. "Fight me, Cecil!"

Then, with terrifying speed, his best friend and a man he had known since they were both pages wet behind the ears, leaped into the air. Cecil could do nothing other than defend himself, back stepping quickly, before the blow could strike him.

He and Kain had sparred plenty of times before; they had pushed one another to grow and improve. But Cecil was also a soldier, and he recognized intent to kill. This was not a childhood war-game. This was all too real.

"Stop, Kain! What has gotten into you?!"

"Silence, traitor!" as he hit the ground, Kain ricocheted into the air, coming down upon Cecil once more in short work.

Cecil managed to avoid the blow, but his blade, which he had used to parry, was not so fortunate.

Kain's lance hit the blade, snapping it clean in two, sending the long shards of obsidian dark metal flying.

At the very moment the blade broke, Cecil let out a cry of pain as crippling agony racked his body. He fell to his knees, his ties to the Darkness severed, depriving him of its lifeblood, so precious to him. He could almost hear the Darkness in his blade screech in furious pain as it scattered, defeated in the Light of the Crystal.

Kain landed nimbly in front of the immobile Knight and kicked him onto his back, placing the tip of his lance on the exposed panel of flesh on Cecil's neck. "You always were weak," he sneered as Cecil writhed, feeling the Light slowly wind its way around his heart, attacking him, searing his insides. "You're dependent upon that sword of yours, upon its Darkness, but I need no Darkness to sustain me, to shield me. Thatis why I am superior to you," he spat. "Goodbye, Cecil. I wish you well in the depths of the underworld that are reserved for traitorous murderers like you!"

"Kain, stop!"

Cecil, who still had a tenuous hold of his own sanity, could only think of how he did not want Rosa to see him this way; he was dying from the conflict inside of him, the unseen battle within him raging silently.

"Ro…sa?" Cecil saw something akin to pain flash over Kain's visage, though it was more brief than lighting, and his voice held a bewildered tone. "What am I…?" Then, he, too, seemed to be suffering from deep inner torment. He cast his lance to the floor in disdain, and turned away from her, staring at the floor, at Cecil. Shame was etched into his expression, though Cecil could not discern his eyes from behind his mask. "No! Don't look at me! I-!"

All at once, the pain in Cecil's body subsided enough for him to sit upright, his lucidity returning. When he finally could see, it became abundantly clear what the source of Darkness that now sustained him was.

Clad in black armor that spoke of hellfire, a billowing cape forged of nightfall and terror flowing from his back, was one of a frame so massive it could only belong to one man.

"Lord Golbez…" Kain muttered and straightened, his face returning to stony indifference.

Rosa spun, her angelic face stricken with shock and fear. Automatically, it seemed, she took a step back, her fists clenched into balls, white with strain. Cecil wanted to take her into his arms, to shield her from the fiend, but he could not stand, and so he was forced to watch as the man strode forward with the grace and murderous intentions of a lioness.

"Kain, you've failed me," he said in a voice uncharacteristically velveteen; Cecil realized that this Golbez must be younger that his status belied. "A shame. I had so much faith in you."

His gaze turned to Rosa, and Cecil suddenly felt the need to warn her; call out to her. "Rosa! Rosa, please!"

His voice sounded weak to him, distant, as if he were at the opposite end of the room, though he was only a few feet away.

Yet it seemed Golbez had heard him.

"So this is the one this outlaw holds dear," drawled the villain boredly. With a languid movement, he extended his arm and enfolded Rosa in the massive folds of his cape. When his arms fell to his side, Rosa was gone, disappeared into the black abyss. "I will take her, to hold in trust until we meet again."

"No!" Cecil felt as if he were removed from his body, a different kind of anguish overtaking him. "No, Rosa!" He struggled to stand, but the Light of the Crystal overwhelmed him, even with Golbez' Darkness saturating the room. Hatred, cold and sick, gripped Cecil's heart.

"You monster!" bellowed Yang, lunging at the man in black armor, but he was knocked aside, as if he were naught more than a ghost.

Edward stood obstinately in the dark lord's path, his gaze full of the same hatred that caused Cecil's eyes to burn and his palms to sweat. Golbez blew him away with a flick of his wrist. "Kain, fetch the Crystal. We have already tarried here too long."

Unable to do anything, Cecil watched as his best friend enclosed his hands around the gently glowing green Crystal of Wind. It's light sputtered and died as he pulled it from its pedestal, plunging the room into silent darkness. Then, they were gone.

Darkness and Light both absent, the feeling of pain subsided from Cecil's chest, leaving him exhausted and empty of all emotion, save for a deep desire for Darkness. It stirred within him, calling for the Blade that no longer was.

Gasping, he dragged himself to the fractured hilt of his sword, and grasped it in his hands as if it were a lifeline.

Then, caring for nothing but the dying Darkness in his hands, he allowed the black numbness that now filled his soul to crash over him as he slipped into the inviting arms of sleep.

XXX

Cecil woke, but did not open his eyes, uncaring.

"… soul fractured. Are you certain?" the voice of King Lao of Fabul asked.

"Yes," another voice, Yang, replied, "he seems to be non-responsive. Even the Magi do not know what to do. Has Chaos taken him?"

"No," said someone in a soft voice, unmistakeably Edward. "He needs a sword. A Dark Blade. He once told me he was dependent upon the Darkness of his blade, and I saw his broken by the Dragon Knight in battle. Perhaps if we gave him a new blade, he would get better."

"Then what are we waiting for?!" demanded a woman. "Hon, have someone get that sword!"

He heard hesitation. "It's not mine to give. It's a relic of Fabul. I'm sure…"

"No. It's a cursed thing that I have no love of," said the king. "I keep it here, in my room, to stop it from harming the people, and I am certain it haunts my dreams. I will be glad to be rid of it, even more so if it helps this brave young man recover what he has lost." There was a sound, like something being removed from a cupboard.

Cecil felt the Darkness call to him.

Like a bolt he sat, his eyes opening and focusing on the elegant, long, item wrapped in dark cloth that the king held in his hand. It smelled like Darkness, his soul hungered for it, desired to reach out and touch it.

The king, who had been watching his face, carefully inclined his head and lay the item at the foot of the bed. Reaching out, Cecil removed the cloth, admiring the sleek beauty of the Dark Blade as it called to him, but when he touched the hilt, something happened.

Rage, sorrow, regret, terror, hatred, longing…

All these emotions came crashing down upon him like a fountain, overwhelming him.

"Where am I?" Cecil asked after a long moment of drowning in his own feeling, his memories of the events after Golbez had disappeared muddled.

"The Royal Chamber," announced King Lao. "I see you are yourself once more. This is a relief. I am grateful The Great Leonard left us with his Blade at his death, or we would not have had the means to revive you."

"I must reach Baron," Cecil said. "I have need of an airship if I am going to rescue Rosa. I cannot…" he chocked, fighting back a sudden wave of crushing despair and hopelessness. He had to try, if he didn't…

"You won't be alone," said Edward. "I'm coming with you."

"As am I," said Yang.

"And me!" volunteered Rydia, unseen at his side. He turned to her in shock, feeling her take his hand. "You can't give up. I healed you, Yang, and Edward so we can go and help Rosa."

"Rydia, Yang, Edward…" Cecil had no words. Instead, he nodded, knowing that he could not change their minds no matter how much he argued with them. Their resolve was truly their own, and each had their own reasons for wanting to defeat Golbez, just as he did. All he could do was be grateful for their assistance.

But what had happened to Kain? And where were they holding Rosa?

Truly, Cid and his Airships were Cecil's only hope of ever seeing Rosa again.

"Surely Baron wouldn't expect you to use the Mist Pass?" said King Lao; Cecil noted his arm was bandaged – had be been injured in the raid?

Cecil shook his head. "No. A portion of the Pass has collapsed. I went to Damcyan through that passageway." Cecil paused, racking his brain for a solution. Suddenly, he knew what to do. "Urchin!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Edward asked. "Cecil, just what, precisely, is 'urchin'?"

"Baron's only port," he declared. "A fishing town, barely large enough to support its docks." He smiled, "Baron is not a naval power; Troia and Fabul, however…" he smiled; an attack by sea would be successful, if Baron did not discover the attack in advance. "We can reach Baron by sea!" Cecil stood up, his armor settling into place. Reaching, he grabbed his helm from the bedside table. "They won't be anticipating it, not even remotely."

"Than I shall provide you with a ship," King Lao declared, "but while I alert the Navy, you should all take this opportunity to rest. Prince Edward has told me you've had quite the ordeal."

Cecil did not want to rest, to have time alone for his thoughts to haunt him, but respectfully bowed his head. "Of course, your Highness."

Accepting the dismissal, Cecil exited the room. "Yang, is there a place where I can go to familiarize myself with this blade?"

"Are you certain you're well?" Edward cut in, his brow creased in concern.

Cecil tried not to snap at him, not after his show of support. He took a soothing breath. "Please, Edward, I don't -" he cut himself off. "I'm not-"again. "I'm not all right. I don't want to think.. I want to do, to remedy this wrong."

"There is a training ground I can take you to, Cecil" said Yang softly.

"Then I will come and watch you," Edward said. "I am worried about you."

Annoyed, Cecil strode after Yang, who walked a little farther ahead. He noticed Rydia whisper something to Edward, and from the way her eyes lingered on him, he didn't need to guess at the subject of her comment.

Why did everyone seem to think that he was unshakeable? That he should be able to calmly overlook this? He had already failed at protecting Fabul's Crystal and Rosa! His best friend had lost his mind and was convinced Cecil was a monster! And the Darkness within him was eating away at his soul!

Why could they not trust him?

Why couldn't they see that he was onlyhuman? That he needed space?

Why could they not understand that all the emotions he should have felt had crushed down upon him like a torrent, that his heart had been ripped into shreds?

"Cecil," it was Yang. "I do not know you very well, but you seem ill at ease, and I think there is more to your anger than what the situation would suggest."

Cecil turned on him, about to snap, but when he saw the look on the Master Monk's face he felt hot revulsion for the blade bubble up within him. Perhaps their concern was warranted. Perhaps…

"Cecil?" Yang asked.

"I am losing myself," said the Dark Knight so softly that only the Master Monk could possibly hear him. "By Gaelach, I'm losing myself to this damn blade! This burden," he muttered, "it's killing me."

"Come, young man, if we walk quickly enough we can leave Prince Edward and Miss Rydia behind and lose them in the corridors. You do not need them hovering over you and suffocating you." Yang said softly. "I will take you to the grounds, you will train, and you will gain control of yourself."

"But-"

"Do not worry. The Prince knows his way around. Come."

Yang and Cecil walked down the hall at a brisk pace, weaving their way through the labyrinth of Ha-Chi Palace. Though Cecil felt his heart grow progressively heavier as they pushed farther away from their companions.

But when they emerged into the calm of a garden, untouched by scorching flames, Cecil released a breath that he had not known he had been holding.

"We lost our Crystal, but very few died, and none of those who did are civilians. There was some damage to the palace, but nothing that time won't heal," Yang said as he began to stretch. "You saved Fabul's capital. The village is in shambles, true, but timber and stone can be replaced. The lives you saved with your decisiveness never can."

"If I am a hero, why do I feel like the villain?" Cecil wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his new blade, feeling the Darkness tingle deliciously down his spine. He exhaled as he swung the sword in a sharp downward arc, concentrating on the proper form and footwork that had been ingrained in him long ago, now second nature to the Knight. "Heroes are not the men that risk losing themselves every time they damage their blades. Heroes are valiant men, garbed in Light. Paladins."

"Indeed, there are not many Heroes who wield night," Yang agreed solemnly, drawing himself up elegantly onto the balls of one foot, "but," he kicked quickly into the air, landing on the ground in a staggered stance, his height on his back foot, "there is a first time for everything. All that aside. I do not think its your self-image that is truly bothering you. You feel you lack control."

"I do lack control," one, two, pivot, slash, back step, opposite foot leads, now forward …

"No. As I see it, you practice too much self restraint," Yang said softly. "This may sound strange from someone in my discipline who does not yet know you well, but this is what I have observed of you in our brief time together." Yang turned to him, though Cecil did not cease his own movement, feeling his anxiety dissipate with every step and slash. "You do not allow yourself to feel as deeply as you should. You feel you are a monster, and so you cut yourself off from people in order to avoid hurting them, when it is truly your own pain you are afraid of. Connections cause you pain when you lose those associated with the bond, so you avoid making any bonds at all." Cecil almost dropped his blade at Yang's words, but recovered it, in spite of his shock. "Yet you are an intrinsically good person, and cannot help but do the right thing. You are the sort of earnest individual who others are naturally drawn to, and you find yourself making strong connections despite your better judgment." Yang's eyes suddenly turned sad. "It is people like you who fill my heart with sorrow, for you are so afraid of pain and rejection you ignore the pain you cause others, and the fact you cause yourself further pain by choosing to be in complete isolation."

Cecil could not speak, only stare at the Master Monk as he resumed his exercises. For a moment longer, Cecil watched the man in dumbstruck silence, but eventually recovered, returning to his own rhythmic movements. Soon the courtyard was filled only with the noises routine physical exertion brought as the men came to the silent agreement all military men come to share in training halls.

Eventually, Edward and Rydia found their way to the courtyard, but they were not alone. In their company stood Li, whose arm was secured in a sling, but looked hearty and hale otherwise. "King Lao has ordered me to inform you that the Navy is preparing a ship for you and your companions, Lord Cecil. He has also asked me to inform you that Chocobos have been saddled with your supplies. You set out for Tao immediately."

"Thank you, Li," replied the Dark Knight.

Li nodded, then exclaimed. "Oh, and my little brother asked me to return this to you," he produced the red signet ring from the folds of his voluminous pants.

Amazed at Li's family's extensive network, Cecil replied, "Tell him I said thank you, will you?"

"Of course," Li bowed, smiled at Cecil, and departed.

Rydia and Edward watched Cecil as he passed, but Cecil only waved them off, "I'm all right now, and I'll be even better once we set sail."

Yang gave him a pointed look, but seemed reassured himself. "Indeed. We should hurry. Every moment we waste here is another moment Lady Rosa is in peril."

At Yang's assurance, Edward seemed to relax, "I'm glad you're feeling better, Cecil."

"Yes, so am I," Cecil nodded and even managed a smile, which seemed to put Edward even further at ease.

Only Rydia's face still seemed to be creased in worry.

Far be it from Cecil to hide something from the innocence of a child.

XXX

Ocean breeze tussled Cecil's hair as he leaned against the starboard railing, crimson rays of waning sunlight dying the water scarlet. Beside him stood Edward, who looked far less green than he had the day before, his head hung over the side of the rail as he stared into the waves. Yang stood at his other side, arms crossed over his chest. He had abandoned his Monk's garb for a commoner's tunic.

Even though it had been a warm late summer day, it was cool on deck at night, and even the Baroni Cecil had taken to wearing one of his heavier tunics at night.

"Five days out," said Edward in a frail voice, though to Cecil it sounded significantly more substantial than it had the day before. "How much longer will we be at sea?"

"At least a week longer," said Cecil in response, "provided the weather remains favorable. You needn't worry, though. The winds don't smell of storm, nor do the skies speak of it."

Yang gave him a quizzical look, "I thought Baron did not have a Navy?"

"Not a traditional Navy," Cecil said. "We do have ships; they simply sail the skies."

Edward, meanwhile, groaned, "How is it you two can be so cursed comfortable out here?!"

"Do not worry, my royal friend," said Yang. "You will be fine in another day or so."

"Dear gods in heaven, I hope so," groaned the bard.

Sailing was not as invigorating as flying nor was it as quick as traveling to Baron by land, but they had little choice. Yet it held the same sense of freedom that always put Cecil at ease. Though Kain's cold face, Golbez's empty voice, and Rosa's terrified eyes still tormented Cecil in his sleep, his days were much more relaxed. He had formed a bond with the Master Monk over their shared love of life on a ship; Yang had served a tour of duty in Fabul's Navy when he had been a trainee. The pair would work up on deck with the crew during the day, the sweat of their backs and the pace of the work providing a backdrop for swapping of personal tales. In turn, he would spend evenings with Edward and Rydia, telling them stories of his childhood in Baron. Sunsets, however, he always spent on deck, trying to discern the path he had to take from the muddled mess that had formed in the few weeks he had been on the road.

"You'll see her again, Cecil," said Edward suddenly, discerning Cecil's thoughts, likely from the look on his face.

"When we arrive in Baron how will we find this Cid?" asked Yang.

Cecil laughed softly as he remembered the passionate, somewhat salty, man. "He's not a difficult man to find, and you needn't worry about his allegiance. I'm certain he'll side with us."

"I do not mean to seem the cynic, Cecil, but there are few involved with the military in Baron whom I would currently trust," said the monk.

"Cid isn't with the military in your conventional manor, Yang," explained Cecil. "He loves his airships more than almost anything else, and has strong convictions about right and wrong," he smiled. "He'd be more likely to hide his airships than let Golbez use them for Crystal conquest. I'm almost certain they'll have him in lock-up."

A sudden awareness tingled along the back of Cecil's neck, an awareness that made his stomach churn in worry and anticipation. It reminded him very much of Mist Cave before the Dragon had attacked, or what he felt before Mist Passage had collapsed.

He spent several minutes praying he was imagining something, but he couldn't help but notice that the wind had picked up as the twin moons, behind him, rose ever slowly into the darkening sky.

"Your judgment has never led us awry in the time that I have known you," said Yang. "I will trust you, as always."

There was a tug on the back of Cecil's pant leg as Rydia attempted to get his attention. "Cecil, can I sit on your shoulders?"

Smiling, the Dark Knight placed Rydia upon his shoulders.

"Isn't the ocean beautiful?" she asked wistfully. "It reminds me of stories my mama used to tell me."

"And what would those stories be, Miss Rydia?" asked the monk; and even Edward seemed to perk up and pay attention.

"Mama told me that one of my papa's old friends used to tell her all kinds of stories about flying whales and other kinds of things," she explained. "One was about a time of Old Magic, when Eidolons and Humans lived in harmony with one another. She said that everyone lived together in one big city, but then there was a war and Magic fell into Chaos. The Great Emperor, who ruled everything, was forced to seal Magic away on an ancient mountain." She paused. "The water reminds me of the whales, though."

"I can certainly see why," replied the monk fondly.

"I wonder what a whale looks like?" sighed the girl after another moment.

The men began to laugh, even Edward.

"Who knows?" replied Cecil at last, shaking his head in amusement.

Suddenly, a tremor shook the ship.

"Have we run aground?" asked the bard somewhat hopefully.

"No," said Yang, his brow furrowed grimly. "There are no reefs or sandbars of any sort in the area that I can recall. Just open water."

"Hit the deck!!" called another voice as the vessel began to rock more violently.

The wind whipped about Cecil, who almost lost Rydia to the sea as he toppled forward. The sky had turned soot black above them, and the ocean churned, a sick shade of gray-green. From where the Dark Knight stood, he could see the vortex of a sinister whirlpool, plunging downward into an abyss of darkness and crushing water.

"What the hell is going on here?!" demanded the captain as the ship was tossed about once more. "Sail away from the whirlpool, you damn fools! SAIL AWAY!"

"Captain, we can't, it's not-!" He fell silent at the sight of the shape that rose from the depths.

"It's not what, you fool?! It's not what?!" demanded the captain of the death-pale sailor.

No further explanation was needed when the captain turned from the dumbstruck sailor to see the ghostly shape that bloomed from the tumultuous waters, an omen of death.

It was serpentine, body curved gracefully, it's horse-like head staring at them with scarlet eyes full of a terrifying arcane knowledge that Cecil could not begin to discern. With a screech that split Cecil's ears, the creature rocked the ship, causing Cecil's grip upon Rydia to loosen for only a fraction of a second.

That second was long enough, for when another otherworldly scream signaled an attack, Cecil had not regained his hold upon the girl, and she went plummeting into the waters below.

"Cecil, help!!" she cried, and he could see her eyes brimming with tears of terror from where he stood.

"Rydia! Rydia, no!!" he moved to try and assist her, but was knocked backwards when the creature rammed the ship yet again.

"The Lord of All Waters!" he heard someone scream, but he had no time to contemplate the words when he heard a splash and saw Yang dive into the water after the girl.

"Edward! Edward, hold onto something!" Cecil called over another dreadful screech, unsure if the Prince had heard him, or even where his friend was located.

He hadn't a chance to find out, for a whip-like white tail shot out from the waters and slammed its way through the hull, tossing Cecil about and rendering him little more than human shrapnel. Like a sand castle in the water, the ship began to break apart, disintegrating into little more than pieces of wood, the heavier pieces sinking into the waves.

Plunged into the somehow icy waters, Cecil fumbled for a piece of driftwood large enough to support his weight, finally clutching onto something with saltwater-blind hands. He clambered half onto the debris, and waited as he was thrashed about for an eternity.

At last, long after the sun had set and the twin moons shone high in the sky, Cecil lay beneath a canopy of stars. He was surrounded by points of light on all sides, lost and alone in an infinite, black ocean.

Injured and exhausted, Cecil did not know how long he drifted through the water, waking and sleeping fitfully, and hardly lucid enough to care. Delirious with thirst when he at last drifted ashore, Cecil was aware of little else than the throbbing of the Darkness at his hip, the burning of his throat, and the pain in his stomach and side. It was only after several hours of staring at an endless expanse of azure sky that a sudden lucidity gripped the Dark Knight in its throes, and he was empowered with a strength he did not know he possessed.

Had Edward washed ashore?

What of Yang and Rydia?

The sailors and the captain?

Cecil pushed himself into a sitting position and frantically scanned the lonely beach for survivors. He found nothing at all to evidence the ship had even existed, except for the piece of wood to which he had so desperately clung. Not even a body had found its way to this place.

Marooned and completely alone, a feeling of loss and despair seized Cecil like a claw as he realized that there were no other survivors.

They were lost at sea.

Dead.

All of them.

And it was all his fault.

Why had he not convinced them to leave him?

Had not Ha-Chi needed the protection of its Master Monk? Was Saffrom not in need of its ruler? And Rydia… Rydia had been just a child … a child…

And now she was a dead child.

Yet he alone had survived, the most unworthy, the most wretched of them all.

He could feel the hollowness in his heart grow to consume him as he realized that he had nothing to live for anymore; except for Rosa's safety. She was the only thing tethering him to the Light, the only thing preventing Chaos from completely devouring him.

Dashing his hand against the sand, he let out a desperate, broken, cry.

Had he ever a chance of doing a single thing worthy of the Light?!

Yang was right; he should have gotten close to them, shouldn't have allowed his fear to hold him back. Now they were dead at his expense and he was filled with nothing but regret at the things he could have done but did not do out of fear.

Rosa was wrong about him; Cecil Harvey was no good man.

He was a sinner and a coward, filled with nothing but hatred and fear, far beyond the light of redemption.

Bitter and completely alone for the first time since he'd began his journey, Cecil wept
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy IV, it is owned by the Gentleman at Square Enix. However, many of the scenarios and characterizations that are found in this fiction are uniquely my own, so you should still ask if you'd like to reprint it for an archive somewhere.

Author's Note: The Last Chapter of Book One, The Sword and The Sinner. You'll have to wait until I draw a decent book two banner before I start uploading those chapters, too.

Anyway, Kain makes his (brief) return here. I tried to make him look more rational here than he's often portrayed. I think the scariest thing about mind controlled Kain is that he means it. Every bit of it.

We also get to see the effects of the Dark Sword a bit here. No homicidal rage yet, though. He has the Shard to keep him tethered.

As for what a quisling is... look it up.
© 2012 - 2024 TheNakedKing
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Steffel's avatar
I actually had to look up quisling back when I first read this chapter. I think I had read about the guy before but I wasn't aware that his name actually became sort of another word for traitor. I'll not forget about it again - so, hey, this story even educated me. :thumbsup: