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Hey all. I know I've posted this before, but it has been going through some heavy duty revamping, and the first chapters have pretty much been rewritten completely so I figure it's pretty much a new story. It even has a new title and everything, and separate parts and all. I'm trying to get serious about this piece as I wasn't so serious about it before. I'd honestly like to know what you guys think of this first chapter before I consider putting more up. I, personally, am not totally pleased with the writing, but that's just me. I want to see what you readers out there think of it. The writing is not as in-depth as you might have seen in the one-shots I put up before, but it's hard to write an entire chapter like that. I think I did well in a lot of places, but others are still lacking. If you see these things too, and I'm not just crazy then please let me know. This is going to bug me forever if I don't get this all cleared up.

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****Final Fantasy IV****

***Part I - The Light***


* I *

- His Majesty's Orders -

One
born of a dragon
hoisting the light and the dark
arises high up in the sky
to the still land.
Veiling the moon with the light of eternity,
it brings another promise
to mother earth
with a bounty and mercy.

*

The sound of steel blades cutting through the air. The monstrous hum of engines roaring through the sky. The mere sound of the machines emphasized power, let alone the sight of them. Their magnificent shape resembled what had become of what once was...Airships, a vessel not of sails, but with wings. Just as their predecessors ruled the seas, they ruled the skies of the known world, the air their ocean and the clouds their waves. Just seeing the airships effortlessly gliding across the sky on their puissant propellers caused people to stop and stare, sometimes endlessly, forgetting completely what they were doing. Children loved to see them and often played as if they were airships themselves, running in circles until they fell over dizzy. Most people revered them; they were an awesome force that none dreamed of overcoming, for such things as these had only been conceived in dreams before. No man had ever touched the sky until now, and it was a glorious day when man's eyes could see through those of the birds. Another frontier had been opened, and was ready to be conquered.

But just as any dream is realized, it can be squandered by hands of greed and a thirst for power. Such was this dream, for in recent days people began to fear the airships, these masters of the blue heavens. People ran for cover if they heard even an echo of them in the distance; their thunder now was a call of death. There were none who knew exactly why the country of Baron had suddenly started attacking others. It certainly did not seem like them to lash out like this, pillaging and plundering as they did. Baron had always been known to be peacekeepers, and their King was thought to be a kind and just knight. There was something foul in the air of Baron. The dream had become a nightmare.

Though only one controlled such technology as the Airships, there were several established and renowned kingdoms throughout the world, each holding its own unique strengths, and each with their fair share of land beneath them. Their land and power were so vast that their names easily fell into the ranks as an entire country. There was the forest country of Toroia, the deserts of Damcyan, the marshlands of Fabul...and then there was Baron. Baron had become, possibly, the most powerful country in the world, and with the airships at their disposal they could not be touched as they laid waste to cities and castles from the skies, bringing death like hot rain. What could the defenseless victims do against such a devastating power...nothing. There was nothing they could do, for Baron was far too strong. Even without the airships, they had one of the most formidable armies in the world. Fear preyed on commune and kingdom alike, for the country of Baron no longer stood for peace, it stood for evil.

History tells stories of unspeakable evils that arise throughout the world, each with its own name. The squadron of airships under Baron’s control was known as the Red Wings, the name given to them from the red wood used to build them which imprinted their supreme strength into the mind. Nowadays people would say they are red because of their bloodthirsty nature, the color stained of the world's blood. Perhaps the people were right, for the Red Wings seemed to become a little darker in color each time they tore through an innocent village. Certainly history would remember the name Red Wings, as well as the man who stood behind them as their commander.

The commander of the Red Wings was Cecil Harvey, a Dark Knight, taken in by the King himself and trained by him as such. No one knows of his family or of his true home, not even himself, but he had made a home in Baron since he was orphaned there as a baby. Over the twenty-one years since that day he had grown to become the King's most loyal subject and that earned him the right to lead the Red Wings with His Majesty's orders. But before he ever commanded the Red Wings he had been trained under the Dark Sword and passed every discipline within that Order, which dubbed him the Dark Knight of Baron. Such a title was something most men died trying to achieve, but Cecil had shown such potential in his youth and the King had so much faith in him. It was almost as if Cecil was destined to become a Dark Knight, as if fate had chosen him for its very purpose. His position not only as a commander but as a Dark Knight was highly respected among soldiers in the kingdom, for they had heard stories of what one must go through to become such a man. Even walking through the town outside the castle, the townsfolk would fold under his presence, some frightened of his appearance while others simply admiring such strength and valor in his young face. He seemed to have anything any man in Baron could ask for.

But Cecil was troubled by many things in the recent weeks. The King had been acting strange with his sudden orders of seemingly mindless destruction. It was as if the King was searching for something, yet Cecil knew of much better ways to find things than to destroy every city along the way. It wasn't like him to do such things as this. Cecil knew the King too well to let this go by without questioning, but questioning the King was something none spoke of; his word was all that was needed for any soldier in Baron. Cecil would have to find a time to say his part, but until then his instructions were to be followed as ordered by the King.

The Red Wings cruised over the fluorescent blue ocean, the sun beaming off the surface in rippled patterns, swaying amongst the crests. Their shadows danced over swells and waves crashing on the shores of small islands scattered about the endless sea. Five airships amassed in the skies in delta formation, a flying-V, as they headed for a village off of a peninsula west of Mount Ordeals, a well known alp that rested on a large continent across the seas southeast of Baron. The small town they sought was known for two things, the first being the fact that it was inhabited by those who could bear magic. Wizards, mages, sorcerers and the like lived here in hopeful peace, unexpecting of the incoming threat against what they protected, a sacred relic. That was the second thing they were known for, that hallowed artifact, and it had just recently come to Baron's attention that that certain artifact was in their possession. That artifact was to be retrieved at any costs, no matter of the people that lived there, no matter what sacred grounds they stained. This village, if resistant, would be considered an enemy of Baron. It was the village of Mysidia.

"Captain Cecil! We are about to arrive at Mysidia!" yelled one of the crew members, forewarned by the bow watchman, the sun crawling across his golden helmet as he stepped forward with the news. All of the soldiers aboard the ship wore the same bronze armor with their gold helmets, the official garb of the Baron army.

"Yeah..." the Dark Knight replied, eyes never wandering towards the messenger as he stood statuesque at his command post. His mind was too cluttered with questions to say anything more. He wasn't even sure what the soldier had told him, nor did he notice him still standing there, awaiting further instruction. The soldier eventually stepped away from his commander after a short salute, making his way over to another soldier overlooking the scenery from the rail of the airship. Cecil just stood at his post, his open-faced helmet allowing the breeze to graze his skin, the top of it slightly curled over his forehead, following his nose to a sharp point, keeping his eyes from the searing sun. He was completely lost in thought, drowning in a sea of things he might say when he returned to Baron. He didn't even want to go on this mission in the first place, but the King had ordered it upon him, personally. There was no way out of it.

"Looks like it's bothering the Captain as well," said one soldier to another, noticing Cecil with a face full of distress. They would quickly glance at their captain before returning their sights to the world below, afraid he might be angered by their stares. They knew this was wrong just as the captain did, and it wasn't easy for them to swallow either.

"Even if we were ordered to do so by His Majesty, taking something as worthless as a crystal from innocent people is..." the voice of the other soldier trailed off as the engines started to growl deep in the ship's belly, telling the crew that it was prepared for a landing. Men took their stations about the vessel, each with their own job to do in making sure the fleet was brought down safely just outside the village.

Though the sun was high and bright in the sky, everything seemed so dark to Cecil, the skies above overcast with his foreboding, as the people of Mysidia below immediately fled to their homes or any kind of safe haven they could find. He watched, as the airships fell slowly from the clouds, the people below scattering from the wavering grass as the propellers pushed violently against it. Before they had even landed the entire village was empty; what was once a lively community was now a ghost town.

The engines quieted and the ladders were lowered, rope and wooden rungs dangling from each ship, lightly bumping against the massive hull. Cecil and a band of his soldiers descended from their flying castle, his foot touching Mysidian soil bringing a pang of some discomforting thought to his mind. The thought was lost before he could even remember what it was, but he left it behind and marched his troop into the village. From that point on everything was just a blur, his mind taken to some other place, some other time as they walked the empty streets, bare and lonely; the sound of their feet breathing puffs of dust behind them. Standing tall and strong in their path was the very structure they had been informed of, a bethel, and within this sanctuary the tower that supposedly carried their objective in its womb.

Of all things he did not want to remember, this was certainly one of them and his mind tried to press these things aside. All he knew was that there was no resistance, there was neither fight nor bloodshed. Not until they set foot inside this architectural nonpareil, the people inside obviously unaware of the present danger they were in. Two soldiers swiftly forced the doors open with a stern boot, sending them whirling around into the respective walls they were attached to. With the crash of the doors slamming into walls, and the sudden cold air that followed, the staggered eyes of those inside watched as bronze and gold poured in, followed by a man built of a darker armor looking most like a shadow once out from under the light of the sun. Those that were too shocked to move, unsure of whether or not their lives were at risk, were easily subdued and held still against the wall with the tip of a sword. The soldiers had only one job, and that was to ensure the safety of Captain Cecil so that he may complete the mission at hand.

A few of the people inside were able to escape Baron's grasp as they fled down a hallway through a large door at its end. The rest were properly kept from harms way, unless, of course, one of them decided to be a hero. Cecil didn't even want to try and imagine what would happen to the poor fool that attempted to break free. If anything he didn't want anyone to die today, but if they were suddenly beset, then things would surely get ugly. The thought of staining these halls red was discomforting.

"Should we follow them, Captain?" a fellow soldier came to Cecil's side, "This area is clear, and it appears that those who escaped were the only other people still here."

No, this is a holy place. Mysidia is a commune, not a monarchy, Cecil thought as he stared down the long hallway, not yet informing the soldier of his decision. He noticed the door at the end of the hall was highly decorated with patterns of gold and silver as well as a very unique symbol...a crystal. Cecil's instincts went off, This village is overseen by an Elder and I can bet he's right down there. He's here with us.

"Sir?" the soldier persisted.

"Those that are not needed to secure this area come with me," Cecil ordered, never taking his eyes off the door, "We're going to find what we need through there."

The soldier relayed the commands to the others, a group of soldiers immediately gathering before Captain Cecil, prepared for his next order. The rest stayed behind as they grouped the Mysidians together in a corner and closed the doors to the tower with two soldiers taking guard duty. No one was allowed in or out, not as long as the sword of Baron was upon the people of Mysidia.

"Let's go!"

Cecil pushed his men forward as they marched heavily down the stone wall corridor, a red carpet leading the way to their destination. There was definitely something important beyond this doorway, and it was clear to Cecil, for no red carpet would grace a path to nothing. Just as before, upon approaching the door, two soldiers stepped forward to make way with their steel heels. This time it didn't fly open upon the first assault as they surely had planned. The metal hinges groaned against the stress, but stayed strong in defiance.

"Fools! Try and lock us out, will you?!"

The soldiers yelled through the thick gold and silver glittering against flaming torches lined down the walls. They kicked the door again and again, each time the sound of the metal reeling against their assailing boots. Finally, as a trickle of concrete dust fell from the ceiling, the door gave way and crept open to a room of icy cold reflections, crystal tiles and walls with bright shining pillars lined up evenly on either side. In the center of the room, ascending a short marble stair, was an ebony rostrum topped with a red silk pillow. But as stunning as that looked, it paled in comparison to the beauty of what sat upon that pillow, glowing so softly yet bright enough to turn night into day. It was the crystal that Cecil was here to find, his mission sitting up there like a trophy ready to be won by the strongest soldier. Cecil couldn't take his eyes off of it until a soldier grabbed his attention, directing his eyes to those who stood in front of his trophy, guarding it, keeping it from him. As soon as he saw them he knew who he was looking at.

There stood the Elder of Mysidia, standing out just by the look of him. He wore the long black cloak of what Cecil could only imagine represented his power over magic, the arcane threads wrapped tightly to his body with a highly decorated gold belt fastened around his waist. His long brown flowing hair accompanied by his beard following suit gave him a look of wisdom over the others. Those others, the ones who had escaped, stood in front of him, standing firm. There were six of them, four men and two women, Cecil noticed as he glanced at them with the least of concern. The last thing he wanted to see was their skin running red, but they were intent on protecting this crystal at all costs, including their very lives.

This is where things began to blur again, Cecil's mind becoming nothing but a soft haze peering through his eyes. He didn't even notice the things happening around him anymore, not the wizards yelling their curses, the soldiers returning with their own threats. He didn't notice the wizards take arms against the advancing men in his troop, what weapons they had not nearly enough to even dent the armor of Baron. The only thing he saw next was his men as they immediately unleashed their swords and slaughtered the wizards, leaving their bodies dead before the Elder, the crystal tile reflecting scarlet pools of blood. The horrid sight nearly broke the Elder and Cecil could see it in his face, his eyes portraying the thought of sending them all to a fiery death as it surely struck his mind. But the Elder knew, just as well as Cecil did, that fighting was useless, and the Dark Knight seemed to explain that through his eyes as they glared at each other. Cecil kept a stern grip on his feelings, even as the Elder's miserable eyes peered through him, begging him to go no further. Cecil knew this was all wrong, but he had come this far already, and he still had a job to do. His trophy was waiting for him.

Why?

The Elder soon became desperate, finding no other possible solution, his people slain so quickly, so brutally, and he ran forward in a futile attempt to ask for mercy. Cecil was more than happy to give him that much, but he had forgotten just how swift his men were to impart force on any threat to their superior officers. A soldier quickly grabbed the Elder and thrust him into the nearest wall, holding a cold blade to his neck to insure no threat to the Captain.

"Should I get rid of him, Sir?" the soldier asked. The question was asked so plain, almost polite, and Cecil stumbled a bit over what he wanted to say.

How did killing become such an easy thing to ask for?

"No, do not kill him." Cecil firmly commanded, just to make sure that he and all the others heard him clearly, "He presents no threat to us. He is lost."

Cecil wondered about that, thinking that maybe it wasn't the Elder who had lost, but perhaps it was himself. He didn't know why, but that's how it felt as he walked across the room to the marble staircase. There were only seven stairs, as he had counted every one on the way up; his way of calming his nerves in times like these. He approached the pale faced podium, the ruby red bed upon which the crystal lay so peacefully. It radiated with such a graceful azure glow, a glow that only made his armor seem that much darker as Cecil reached out and put his solemn hand upon its warm surface. He hoisted the sapphire relic to his eyes as he observed it, pondering of it for a second, trying to reason its purpose.

All the killing, all the death, for this... Cecil thought as he peered into the cerulean mirror in his hand, a pair of cold blue eyes staring back at him. His reflection in the crystal seemed so dark as he gazed for a moment more before placing it in his satchel,I look so evil... he thought as the image of his face in the sapphire glass stuck cleanly to the back of his eyelids, reminding him just what he was every time he closed his eyes. That struck some nerve deep within, and he wanted nothing more than to be gone and done with this mission, quickly turning around and heading for the door.

As he walked he saw everything that had happened in this room all over again, his mind replaying the swift massacre for him. The dead bodies of these innocent people lay there under his boot as he walked over them, their blood grasping his feet, trying valiantly to pierce his armor. But it didn't need to, for the sight alone could penetrate any barrier and attack the mind. Cecil wondered if he could hold out much longer, hoping his nerves were as strong as his armor. He wished he could've been somewhere else at that moment, somewhere far away, far away from everything. It didn't matter, just as long as he didn't have to go through any more of this...this nightmare.

Cecil's nerves were soon tested as the Elder let out a faint sob, a whimper, as the soldier that was holding him pressed the sharp blade a little closer to his throat. Cecil stopped at the door and almost fell to his knees in anguish.

This isn't right. What am I doing?, Cecil's head almost self-destructed at that very spot, but a soldier's hand on his shoulder reminded him of his duty. He shrugged the hand off of him and walked out the door, the soldiers staring at their estranged Captain as he left them behind there in the crystal chamber.

The mission was considered a success, and the soldiers removed themselves from the sacred tower, following their Captain back out into the village where the sun took their eyes for a moment. But Cecil didn't seem to notice, or care, for all he could see was his chilling reflection in the crystal as he continued trudging towards the airships still resting outside of the village. Cecil saw no success in what they had done today, and it ate at him more and more as barren paths led him out of this place, this village of misery. Wary eyes peeked from windows and shadowed corners as the demons from Baron finally left, leaving with them a trail of Mysidian blood.

* * *

Fierce winds tore at blades of grass and nearby trees as the airships took off from Mysidia, Cecil sitting rather uncomfortably in the simple wooden chair at his post, even more distressed than before. So many things beating at his conscience door, telling him over and over that he had just destroyed something sacred, something human. It was senseless, all this killing, this murder. That's what it was...murder.

Those people were innocent; there was nothing they had done wrong. They were protecting themselves from us, even if they did make the first attack. And yet they died by our hands as if they had made an attack on the King himself. Why? Cecil rummaged through his mind for an answer that he knew wasn't there to find. Not yet anyways. The answers would come when he returned to Baron, when he asked the King why he had sent him to blight this village.

Had Cecil been paying attention he would've noticed his men becoming restless, much like he himself. A good number of them were standing before him, trying to bring his attention to their cause. They didn't like the way things were being played out either, and it showed as a brave, yet foolish, soldier stepped out to say a word.

"Captain Cecil, if I may say something," he approached wisely, with a salute on one knee. Cecil nodded to the soldier, not in any mood to speak. The man of bronze and gold stood, his eyes trying hard not to seem weak in his Captain's presence.

"Sir, we earned our positions as the Red Wings through our valor and our chivalry. When people in Baron think of us, they should be proud that we serve the greatest country in the world, and other countries should think nothing less. Now we appear to be nothing more than pirates for His Majesty," the soldier was truly angered by what he had just done, and Cecil knew exactly how he felt, for the same dagger of indignation rested in his chest, "Even under the orders of the King, it's not right what we're doing here. Looting innocent people like this is an act of cowardice..."

"Stop it!" Cecil broke in, not happy with the direction the soldier was going. Though he agreed with him, he couldn't show any such disloyal conduct before his crew. They were beginning to sound as if they were distrusting their own King, and Cecil did not want any of his men to be put in the dungeon for treason, for that, too, would be on his conscience.

"But Captain," the soldier persisted, "Why are we going as far as pillaging a town of innocent wizards who don't even resist us?"

"Listen, everyone!" Cecil stood up from his position and prepared to end the squabble of his crew once and for all, "His Majesty has decreed that possessing the crystal is absolutely necessary, not only for the good of our kingdom, but for the good of the world. The people of Mysidia knew too much of the crystal and what secrets it holds. Whether or not they would use it against us, they were a threat to the continued sovereignty of our country." How Cecil made the words sound so true he had no idea, but they were listening. He hated going against his crew, but even more he hated going against himself, "We are the Red Wings, the air power of Baron. His Majesty's orders are absolute!"

Those were the words the King had given him, what His Majesty more or less would have said had he been in his position. Whether or not Cecil believed them was another matter in itself, but the crew respected his words and held their tongues of any more such talk. The small gathering that had found itself before his post scattered about the ship, manning their positions as before. Cecil fell back into his chair, mentally drained from everything, especially after what he had just said. It took everything he had not to let his own emotions show through in his words. He wanted to shut his eyes, but he knew exactly what he would see, and that was the last thing he wanted hounding him right now. He just watched the skies as clouds rolled on by, stirred by the wake of the ship.

* * *

Things were quiet for a good while as they soared over the ocean towards the country of Baron, the afternoon sun hanging high off their port bow. It was actually peaceful for most of the time, the hours flowing like minutes, things going by so fast yet still in slow motion, and the tickle of hair on Cecil's brow as the wind brushed against his face was rather enticing. If it weren't for the thought of blood on his boot he could actually fall asleep to such a scene. Such times he missed when he was able to just sit back and relax at his post, not worrying a bit about anything. He had actually been caught snoozing in the Captain's chair a few times before by some of the crew, but of course they would never tell the King such things. They used to joke with him about it, telling him he might wake up on a deserted island one day. But now, in times like these, there was nothing to joke about. Death is never a joke.

As peaceful as these hours were, Cecil began to notice that things still seemed disturbed and misplaced. Winds seemed to die, clouds frozen in littered patterns on the sky, leaving a small hint of something to come. Little did Cecil know it was simply the calm between storms, for not too long after he had noticed these things, the silence was broken as a watchman ran from the front of the ship, his eyes screaming alarm.

"Captain! Monsters!"

The brief announcement brought Cecil up from his post as he called loud to his crew.

"Everyone, prepare for incoming!"

Shouts rang out all over the airship, each relaying the message to man their battle positions. The crew assembled themselves in their routine, set positions and prepared for whatever was coming. Cecil remained at his post as he, along with his crew, awaited what horrors would descend upon them. Silence reigned the air once again as the breeze began to pick up, a cloud stretching its confident hand over the light of the sun, sending a mild shadow over the deck. Cecil watched with cautious eyes for something, anything. For a moment he thought it might have been a false alarm, for sometimes peaceful creatures that have never been seen before are thought of as monsters.

"There! Up there!" a soldier quickly blurted out, his sword pointed to the skies where a few strange creatures hovered above, circling their ship like vultures. There was an untold number of the creatures, too many to count, Cecil figured, as they weaved in between each other in a cloud of monstrous flesh. What they were was yet to be known, for they had yet to show any signs of attacking and were too far to clearly see. Cecil glanced at the airships trailing just behind them, noticing that they were ready for battle as well, their men placed in the most strategic spots on deck, if there was such a thing as a strategic spot on an airship.

"They're coming! Get ready!" It was the next thing Cecil heard as he turned his head to the skies above, the sight of the monsters descending on them with a sudden speed driving him to draw his weapon, the Dark Sword. The things spread out amongst the five ships cruising over the ocean, each having at least three of the damned creatures to deal with. At first they were just a blur, swooping down to snatch any prey they could get their claws on, but upon one of them landing on a soldier at the front deck, the crew was able to get a good look. Even as their fellow soldier screamed in pain as the vile monster tore him open, none moved for a moment if just to get a better look at it.

Their fat bodies of putrid pimpled blue flesh looked like rotten, maggot infested meat, sometimes served in the dungeons of Baron. Their wings didn't look big enough to carry their extreme bulk, but they moved with surprising quickness in the skies. Their legs were just the same, seemingly too small to hold up such a thing, but it didn't seem to stop it from tearing into a man's back, shredding steel and flesh alike. The most distinguishable feature was the ominous eye that sat large above its maw filled with jagged steak-knives of teeth, perfect for the occasional human it preyed on.

Soldiers finally snapped out of their momentary daze as they took to the foul being, swords drawn and swinging at it with every intention of sending it back to the hell that it had come from. They drove the creature away, hardly even getting a chance to leave a mark of their blades on its flesh. These creatures were sneaks, they didn't like confrontation but would quickly take a soldier that wasn't on his guard. One happened to be lucky enough to catch a soldier who strayed over to the edge, his back to the rail, unwary of one of the menacing monsters sweeping in behind him. Before his screams even reached the ears of the crew he was taken overboard, a swarm of the creatures swooping in to get a piece of the catch. The only thing left was his helmet, which dropped upon the deck in a small spat of blood.

The floating eyeballs continued to swarm over Cecil's ship, a small cloud of them just waiting for a soldier to let down his guard. Cecil held his sword defensively as one tested him, swooping in close enough to get his attention, yet at a safe enough distance to escape harm. He advanced on it, just to let it know he would be no easy target, but another came in just to spite him. That one was not so lucky. Cecil, instincts driving his anticipation, sprung from his position, just high enough to drive his sword into its belly. As it tried desperately to escape, it only made its wound worse as his dark blade easily ripped it wide open, entrails dangling sickly from the laceration. Cecil nearly lost his sword as the beast flew off, pulling it with all his strength to dislodge it from the bone. The monster didn't get very far at all before it dropped from the sky into the sea below.

The swarm of ghastly creatures seemed to be waiting for something as they all hovered, stagnant, just over the bow of the ship. Cecil wondered exactly what such creatures would be thinking at a time like this, and it brought his attention to the airship on their starboard side. It was out of control and was flying severely off course...directly into the side of his ship, the sight of the colossal vessel coming towards him leaving a small drop of panic in the pit of his stomach.

Cecil didn't even have time to warn his men to brace themselves before the impact, the two tremendous hulls colliding violently before scraping viciously against each other; a cataclysm of splintering wood and shattered planks. Soldiers were thrown to the deck and sent sliding into the port side railing as the airship started to lean to that side. The wheelman was clinging to the tall wood of the steering wheel for dear life, trying his best to turn the ship back in the right direction. Unfortunately his strength was nothing compared to the pressure of another airship digging into their side, like a fierce wind digs into a tree long dead.

Cecil had found a rope dangling from the main mast behind him and wrapped his arm around it, standing steady at his post. He watched the deck of his neighboring airship, the crew scrambling to its best ability to get the vessel under control again. Apparently one of the monsters had gotten a hold of the pilot, leaving the ship in the hands of the currents, hands which were now clawing at the hull of his airship. Time was running short for Cecil and his crew as his ship continued to tip over, much like a boat capsizing in the sea. Cecil didn't want to find out what it was like for an airship to capsize in midair, but if something wasn't done quickly then he was going to find out whether he liked it or not.

More and more the airship leaned, the crew holding on to whatever they could find, most likely praying at the moment for someone to save them. Cecil continued to watch, as calmly as he possibly could, at the other airship as its deck forced its way deeper into their hull. Cecil could hear the wood splitting open far beneath him, and he could only hope that it would not hit the engines, for then they would truly be lost. To his dire dismay, the airship began to shake violently, and Cecil knew that it would not be long before gears were torn from each other and the ship would fall to an unfortunate grave under the sea. It was taking too long, and he knew it, the hope of pulling the two ships apart far past the point of no return...it was over. He closed his eyes as he waited for the ship to simply plummet into the ocean, the shaking filling his bones with terror.

There is no hope...

And then it stopped. The violent shakes subsided as the airship came back around to settle upright, the vessel at their starboard side pulling away under some level of control. A soldier behind the wheel gave a single wave of his hand in Cecil's direction, and Cecil did the same, gladly having his life spared for the moment. He finally took a breath after holding it for so long, acknowledging that the threat was over. He turned his attention back to his own deck, as his men got up to brush themselves off, relieved that they had survived but also unaware that they still had monsters to deal with. It was not a pretty sight as several soldiers were taken overboard by the hideous creatures; their lives held on to only to serve as food for these things. Cecil quickly got his men together, rushing from his post and taking to the front deck. He instructed two soldiers to guard the pilot, not taking any chances on another ship losing control. The rest grouped together in a tight circle on the deck, the creatures still lingering above their heads, their companions long gone within the monsters' belly.

There was nothing they could do but wait for these creatures to either go away, or make some kind of sudden movement in their direction. And wait they did, forever it seemed they waited. They waited and waited, until one soldier could wait no more. He took his sword and slung it into the air, into the cloud of floating teeth and eyes. One of the monsters actually snatched the sword out of the sky, swallowing it whole. Cecil noticed this, and a marvelous idea sprung into his mind.

These damn things are like gulls, they'll eat anything. Cecil thought to himself as he rummaged through his satchel for a specific item that he had been given by His Majesty. Not minding a bit for the crystal, he dug around until he came upon a round vial filled with a fiery red liquid, so warm that he could feel it through his armor. He took the vial out of his satchel and brought it before his eyes, a wicked smile crossing his lips. They'll love this.

Without a second thought Cecil hurled the vial into the mess of creatures, the swarm of them so close together that he lost sight of it for only a moment. After that moment he noticed it coming back down towards them, the monsters unfortunately not taking the bait. Cecil's eyes went wide for a second as he saw that his plan had backfired, but just as the vial fell out of the swarm, one of them swooped in and picked it up, fetching it between its teeth. Cecil exhaled deeply in relief as the monster flew back into the swarm and just a second later ignited in flames. Even more astounding was the explosion that burst from its fleshy body, as flames seemed to reach out of it and grab each and every one of its little monster friends, and each one was nothing more than a cloud of ashes after the fire was done with them. Their ashen bodies blew away in the wind before ever touching the deck.

A short cheer went around the airship as each soldier lifted his sword into the air, hollering to the high heavens. For the first time that day, for that single moment, they were all smiling, even Cecil, but that air of death still lingered. Their glorious victory was short lived, as a lone helmet painted wet red scooted across the front deck.

The threat was finally over, but the ship had taken a tremendous beating, and Cecil didn't even want to think about the casualty list. But it was his responsibility to know, so as to have their deaths documented upon their return to Baron. He immediately noticed that five of his soldiers had been lost, five families that had lost a son or a husband...or a father. Cecil cursed the heavens for bringing such hell into this world such as these creatures. The men that were gone didn't deserve to die, and especially not in this way. But there was nothing he could do for them, nothing except remember them and to have their closest kin informed as soon as they arrived back in Baron. It would be a sad day for a lot of people, but Cecil wondered if it wasn't just a bad omen for their 'crimes' back in Mysidia. The thought surely crossed his mind as conceivable, for nothing would suit a criminal better than to die by the hands of a monster.

No, they didn't deserve this. It wasn't their fault. It was...

"Sir?" a soldier tore Cecil from his thoughts, bringing him back to the situation at hand. Cecil stood firm in the soldier's presence, giving him no indication that he was struggling inside.

"Damage report?" Cecil asked. The soldier didn't even flinch as he gave his report even though he was undoubtedly shaken. A true Red Wing.

"Captain, the hull has taken a lot of damage on the starboard side, but the ship is still intact and operational. The engines have taken no damage. Five dead, sir."

Five dead. Just as Cecil had seen. He nodded to the soldier and sent him back to his duty with a short salute. Cecil glanced around at those who were left, manning the stations that had lost their crewmen, taking care of what needed to be taken care of. The sun finally peeked out again from the cloud that had overtaken it, draping rays of sunlight upon their decks.

"Is everyone alright?" Cecil called out to his men, making sure that none needed medical attention. There were two medics below decks, but thankfully they were not needed as every soldier still standing seemed to be alright. Cecil wanted to smile at that thought, but it never came to him.

"Yes, sir," the soldiers began to call out one by one, letting the Captain know that they were still strong, something Cecil wished he could say for himself. If only he could take his mind off of all these things. What made it worse was that he knew he still had to make his case for the King, whether or not he was worn to his limits. Things were going to blow up for sure if Cecil stumbled on his words while questioning this mission, if he could even get the nerve to do so.

Cecil, at that moment, wanted nothing more than to sit down and relax. His chair still stood at his post, luckily nailed into the wood of the deck. He'd be pissed if the Captain's chair had flown off the ship during the collision. As he walked across the deck towards his chair, he could hear two soldiers talking as they made their way to an unmanned position.

"This is insane," the one soldier started, "The monsters have been increasing radically and they get more vicious every day. A month ago we'd never have them attack us like they did today."

"I know," the other replied woefully, "Morris, Hendrick, Salison, Soran, Tannon...God! I can't believe this, they're dead! Dead because of those damned things!"

Cecil felt for his crew, felt their pain and despair. He wholeheartedly understood just what they felt, because he was just one of them, no matter that his rank exceeded theirs. He had known his crew for over a year and they had become so close that they were much like a family. There was no honor in these soldiers' deaths either, which made it that much worse. You die trying to save the world and you're a hero. You die because you were eaten by a monster on a mission and you're just another occupational casualty. These men would get no special notice for their deaths, only their names written in the logs of the Baron archives, lost in a pile of scrolls and paper.

Cecil finally reached his chair and slumped down in it, taking a load off his feet. He pondered more of his crew's words...the monsters. The monsters were growing unusually gallant these days and Cecil was worried of the consequences this would bring. Normally monsters would not attack airships for they were so large, but that didn't seem to be the case anymore. What made things worse was the unusual increase in their numbers, as if some freak phenomenon of nature had bred entire populations of these monsters. Attacks were reported more frequently around the castle walls, and outside of the town's gates, not only at night but during the day as well. Moreover, they were growing much stronger, as if growing in numbers wasn't bad enough.

Something must be happening...

"Captain. Baron is on the horizon," a soldier disrupted Cecil's daze. Cecil's attention was quickly drawn to the time at hand, and he realized that it was time to face up to his feelings. This was where he decided whether or not he was ready to bring his judgments above His Majesty's orders, and he would break his code as a Dark Knight. But what did such a title mean if it was not properly conceived, and what did it mean if he didn't want to follow such a title anymore? So many questions still chasing him, but he had made his final decision, and so he nodded to the soldier before him as he rose from his chair. It was time for him to live his life through his own mind.

"Prepare to land." the Captain commanded.

_____________________________________________________________________

As you surely noticed, this is the first chapter of the first part of the story. There will be four parts in total. Now I've actually finished writing the first part, I'm simply running through all these chapters and doing serious revamp work, but when I'm finished I hope to have it submitted to the FFIV fanfic section. There are between 11 and 15 chapters(can't give an exact number due to all the revisions going on) Part I, which covers Cecil's journey up to his trials on Mt. Ordeals. I was hoping to have Part I put up as its own individual fic so that I wouldn't have to wait and finish the whole friggin' novel before it was put up on the site. So I'll keep updating this as the chapters get finished, and hopefully you all enjoyed it. As always, thanks for reading!

This post has been edited by SpacemanSpiff on 31st January 2004 03:21

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Jeez, another signature...i can't do this anymore, just kill me already!

I haven't seen any updates yet. ;_;

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"To create something great, you need the means to make a lot of really bad crap." - Kevin Kelly

Why aren't you shopping AmaCoN?

I like that very much, Spaceman. You have a nack for writing. I love to write, too, but I just don't get the time anymore. Maybe tonight because I don't have school. Only problems I saw were a few grammar errors. Subject-Verb Agreement...Anyways, fantastic. I'm honestly thinking about submitting a piece for FF8. Should have by tomorrow.

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"The Hero I am not. I can do naught."

Respect Frog...

* II *



- The Price of Honor -



The word of God is all powerful...



...and it is bestowed upon your King



with all its wrath and fury...



*



It seemed like days had flown by since they had left earlier this morning, and everything seemed so different. Cecil began to see things upon this kingdom that he had not seen before, and it pulled some deep emotion out of the bottomless beyond within his mind. It felt like something was desperately trying to break out of his stomach, as though these feelings could not stand being closed in, as if claustrophobic. He couldn't even bring himself to walk through town, as he usually did after coming home from an important mission, for today it was simply too much to bear. He couldn't take the torture of the townspeople's judging eyes, for he knew they would see the blood running down his armor, in his eyes...in his heart. He had seen it in past weeks, as they talked in hushed whispers of the Dark Knight, Captain of the newly dubbed Pirates of Baron, once known as the Red Wings. He couldn't handle such a scene today, and he didn't even turn a glance towards the town as he steadily walked past, listening to the gentle knocking of his boots as they hit the wood of the draw bridge. Each step, each tap against the wood, was another knot tied in his nerves, and he nearly thought of stepping off the side. Baron towered tall in demanding expectation.

As Cecil approached the castle gates, the wretched feeling in his stomach began to tear at him worse still. He had yet to find a way to stand up to the King, and the ideas were not flowing as smoothly as he had hoped. It was but a jam of jumbled words and phrases crashing together in a pile up of incomprehensible patter. He knew that if he were speaking to anyone else it would never be this hard, but this was the King after all, His Majesty, and in a way the only father he ever knew. As an orphan, Cecil had been chosen by the King to be what he was today, a Dark Knight, through close observation of his regular training. His Majesty knew that Cecil would be a strong willed warrior, for he certainly had the heart of one, and he could see in the boy's eyes that he would one day be a leader of men. Though he couldn't remember being so close in his younger years, as soon as he could pick up the sword His Majesty had been there to see it. The King had actually been there, personally, to see through Cecil's training before he had even been considered to serve under the Order of the Dark Sword; something that had never happened before under his reign as King. Cecil could still feel his warm presence watching closely during his melee with soldiers much older, if not much stronger, than he. He remembered overhearing him once...



“What are your thoughts on Cecil, Your Majesty?”

“There are things I know, and there are things I do not. What Cecil wants in life I will never know, but I do know that he truly has the heart of a knight, and that hits harder than any sword can. That young man will be a great leader of this country some day.” His Majesty had said after Cecil had defeated another high ranking officer in a match of sword-and-shield. Though they clearly were not meant for his ears to have, the words struck him like the hammer to the anvil, leaving such a strong impression. It was such a wonderful feeling to have someone be there for him during those times, as if he were a part of something special...like a family.



That's why all of this was so hard for him, turning his mind into a lexical battlefield. Cecil could not falter under someone that had been the closest thing to a family he had ever had. It just didn't seem right. But then again, the things the King was doing didn't seem right either, and he couldn't possibly let it go by without heed. Cecil was caught in the middle of a mind struggle that didn't seem to give either way, and it wouldn't be long before the ties in-between snapped under the tension. Though all of this boiled beneath, he was quickly brought to his senses as the Captain of the Guards came forward from the now open gates to greet him.

"Ah, Cecil. Good to see you. You're rather early. I'm sure His Majesty will be pleased." Beigan talked like he ate off the King's plate; a slick nose that fit perfectly in the King's butt. He had the looks of a strong soldier, with his impressive build and strong-jawed, clean-shaven face, and he had the badges to prove it. But he never really had the attitude to be what he was, always so cocky, so smug, even though his position hardly ever warranted him an opportunity in a real battle. Supposedly he had been in the Royal Guard his entire life, and only during one war had he seen any action. He was good with a sword, Cecil could attest to that, but not that good. Not nearly good enough to serve as a knight of Baron, which is why he mostly worked at the King's side as his war council. He did have the mind for war, if not the arm for it. Cecil had never seen him as a close friend, and matter-of-factly had never really cared for him too much. But he dealt with him for the sake of His Majesty. The grin on Beigan's face immediately irritated Cecil, "You have the crystal, I presume."

If only you knew what I had to do to get it

"Of course. But the Mysidians..." Cecil was forced to avert his eyes from the Captain, not wanting his moral dilemma to be made known, especially not to him, "They were helpless. And we just took it as if it was never theirs to begin with..."

"What are you saying, boy?" Beigan pursued, cocking an eyebrow. Though Beigan was at least fifteen years his senior, Cecil didn't like being referred to as "boy", and it would've ticked him off had he not been so self-conscious of his last words. Cecil was a bit worried of what he had just said to the Captain, fearing he might have seen a bit of his seditious thoughts. The air was still and quiet for what seemed like forever until Beigan finally broke out into a wide, friendly smile, and patted Cecil on the shoulder, "Come on, His Majesty is waiting."

Does he know? Or is he just playing with me?

Cecil was a bit more wary as Beigan led him through the many gates of the castle that guarded the entrance, each tall door seemingly pushed open by the sheer power of their presence. It was a magnificent castle, built strong and steady with walls that none could climb and towers that reached to the very heavens. Guards posted at every gate would open the doors as the two Captains entered, a respectful salute following shortly after. They walked through the main hall, bright and full in its country's glory; flags of Baron dangling mighty from the high ceilings. Stone pillars graced the great hall, like vigilant guards watching every step, hearing every word spoken, feeling every emotion without expressing a single one. Cecil wondered if they could feel his emotions.

They couldn't possibly feel this, for they would never be able to stand. They would crumble.

Cecil continued on at Beigan's heel, mind stirring as they passed a stairwell leading below with a sign overhead reading: Mage Training Chambers. Cecil's thoughts cleared for a moment, and only one thing was picking his brain for that short time.

I hope she made it to her training session. I shouldn't have asked her to stay last night.

His mind was soon back on the world at hand, as Beigan seemed to up the pace, almost eager to get back to the King's side. Cecil was rather annoyed with him again, as he hurried to catch up. They passed the mess hall, where Cecil figured he would be joining his crew for a drink after speaking with His Majesty. They passed through strong double doors, the royal crest hanging gracefully at either side, into the antechamber, a small hallway garnished by a ruby red carpet, laced in gold trimmings, which all led up to the gilded door of the throne room. Beigan turned before reaching the door and stopped Cecil so suddenly that he nearly tripped over himself.

"Sir Cecil, please wait here."

Beigan walked through the door and closed it behind him, leaving Cecil to wait patiently for the King to summon him. Beigan's grin soon turned wicked as he approached the throne, for he knew something that Cecil would kill to have kept quiet. He tossed around the idea of telling His Majesty, but he knew the King would want to hear the good news first.

"Your Majesty," Beigan began as he walked up and knelt before the King, a powerful figure dressed in flawless red robes also laced with gold. If he wasn't as strong as he was, the vestments would surely swallow him whole. His face was hard as stone, yet revealing of a surprising gentleness. The thick black beard governing most of his face seemed to contradict the little hair he had on his head, upon which rested his golden crown. He awaited the news, "Cecil has returned with the crystal."

"Good." the King's deep voice was fit for his character; a strong, iron-willed knight now sitting upon the throne of the kingdom he once fought for.

"I should have you know, Your Majesty, that Cecil seems to have developed a distrust of the throne," Beigan made sure to point out before Cecil was allowed in. An unusual look of query crossed the strong brow of His Majesty.

"Truly?" the King pondered for a quick moment before throwing it aside, "Thank you for informing me Beigan, but all that matters right now is the crystal. Bring him in."

"Yes, my liege," Beigan stood up before the King, grinning just as he was when he first walked in. He truly enjoyed knowing what he knew of Cecil, and he couldn't wait to see what would happen to him. He made his way to the door and opened it wide to let Cecil in, the Dark Knight still there, although his face not nearly as confident as expected. He actually looked rather pale, "Sir Cecil, His Majesty awaits. Please enter."

Cecil stepped through the throne room doors as he had done so many times before. Memories passed through his head every time he walked through those doors. Good memories of missions past, the day he was appointed commander of the Red Wings, the day he was knighted. So many good things started this way, but this day would not be as joyful as the others. He knew it would be hard to leave this room today without some repercussion. Cecil advanced to the short step before the throne and kneeled, awaiting his call.

"Well done, Cecil. So, where is the crystal?" the King eagerly asked.

"My lord, I have it." Cecil pulled the luminescent object from his satchel with closed eyes, lacking any desire to look at it again as he held it before the King. Beigan quickly walked up to Cecil and took it from his hands, giving Cecil the freedom of his sights back, which quickly fell upon His Majesty. Beigan gave Cecil a smirk as he snatched the soft glowing relic, a cocky little smile that would've given Cecil plenty of reason to knock his teeth in had he been paying any attention. But Cecil had his eyes on the King, never taking them off of him for fear of being perceived as weak, although a part of him was looking for something. He thought he could almost see a recognizable difference in the man, and it surprised him, for he could not savvy that which stung him as so odd.

"It appears to be genuine," Beigan said at the King's side once again, passing the crystal into his thirsty hands.

"It's beautiful. It is the crystal of water," the King stated, eyes alit in its resplendence, as he examined it from top to bottom and all the way around. He soon found approval in Cecil's work, giving the Dark Knight a warm smile, something Cecil found awkwardly strange, "You may leave, Cecil."

How can he be so happy? He doesn't know how tainted that thing is. Would he still smile if he knew what happened in Mysidia today?

Cecil stood up and began to walk out of the throne room, mostly out of instinct, although he knew he shouldn't leave. He knew he couldn't walk out that door without saying something, anything. There were matters here that needed to be resolved and running away wasn't going to resolve anything. He stopped just before the doors, gleaming peacefully against his darkness, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Here goes

"Your Majesty..." Cecil broke into the King and Beigan's conversation over the crystal. They both turned, startled at the sound of Cecil's voice and even more so to see him standing before them, almost defiantly.

"Wh...What is it?!" they both said nearly in unison.

"Your Majesty," Cecil could feel his stomach doing flips as he began to unfold what he had been thinking about all day, "As the Captain of the Red Wings, I do not understand your motives. Why is it that you need these crystals?"

The King simply gave Cecil a blank stare, a brief silence pursuing the words that had so obviously broken any line of trust between them. Cecil feared he would be killed before ever getting to finish, and he had to lay his mind out now or else he would never see another chance. He immediately picked up where he had left off.

"Do you truly believe the Mysidians were becoming a threat to our kingdom? They are merely peasants with pitch forks and spell books. If they are such a threat then why did they fail to resist us?" Cecil didn't even give the King time to answer, but then Cecil wasn't sure if he even wanted to hear an answer at this point, "We do not understand why innocent people had to die by our hand today. Some have even wondered if your actions are..." He could feel the knot getting tighter in his stomach, "...altogether..." this was it, no turning back, “...honorable."

Cecil couldn't believe the words had actually left his mouth. He couldn't even imagine what the King was thinking and he wasn't really sure if he wanted to know. The look on his face gave the impression that he was about to unleash hell.

"So you distrust your own King, Cecil?!" The King's voice boomed with a fury Cecil hadn't heard in years.

"No I...I didn't mean that..." Cecil had trouble trying to explain, mostly because there really was no explanation for it. The King's eyes burned holes through Cecil's head and the thoughts poured out, showing themselves as if in plain view, "I simply fail to understand why."

"And does your crew share your feelings on this matter?!" the King's voice still shattered barriers in the Dark Knight, and he could feel himself slightly shaking in his armor.

"No, my liege. I speak on behalf of myself, and only myself. My crew shares no such concern," Cecil lied so surprisingly perfect, even with His Majesty's eyes tearing him to pieces.

"So it is true what I have heard then?" the King said disappointedly. Cecil's eyes twitched in wide white globes, the shock nearly striking him dead at that spot. Beigan's grin was so large, so overjoyed, that it nearly devoured his face.

"Your Majesty, I..." Cecil couldn't even finish through the constrictions of his throat, still astounded by the fact that the King had already heard such things. His Majesty glared with the force of an entire army, an army that was driving Cecil deeper into his bunker, leaving him trapped.

"Did you think that I knew nothing about your true feelings?!" The King roared. Cecil was caught, and he was only adding the fuel to the flames by speaking up. There was no way out of this. He wanted to pick up his heart, which had currently leapt out of his chest, and leave, but it would do no good now. The King was already upon him, "To think that I took you in and raised you as I would my own son, and trained you nonetheless!"

Cecil instantly felt sick, realizing he had just insulted the only man he could ever call a father. He thought he could feel tears trying to break loose, but he fought them with whatever strength he had left. The last thing the King would want is to have his highest knight weeping at his feet. His Majesty seemed to feel a bit of sadness himself, seeing now what had to be done with this.

"Now, not even you can trust me..." he spoke so melancholy, so genuinely sorrowed. Cecil had forgotten everything he had come here for, everything that had led him up to this point, and he was simply empty. The King's eyes fell harsh once more upon the Dark Knight, "I can no longer entrust you with the command of the Red Wings. As of now you are relieved of your post."

"Your Majesty...?!" The words had hit like iron swords through his chest, and Cecil's eyes went wide with disbelief. His title as Captain of the Red Wings, what he had worked so hard for, was no longer held to his command. Just like that...it was over. It all seemed incredibly too drastic and Cecil was so overcome with the nihilism of it all that he walked forward in denial as if to ask the King to make sure the words truly had not been spoken. He was immediately seized by the two royal guards at the King's side, quickly stepping forward to restrain Cecil from going any further. Cecil wanted to resist, but their strong hold of his arms, and his progressively weakening spirit held him back.

"Cecil, I'm going to give you one chance to prove your loyalty is still strong with our kingdom," the King announced, a slight hint of some hope in his voice that Cecil immediately latched onto. His ears begged to hear his request, “Your charge is to eliminate the Phantom Beasts that haunt the upper valley and ensure the safety of the village of Mist. If you do so fulfill this mission, then I will reconsider your position as Captain of the Red Wings."

Cecil would've bowed with such immense pleasure upon hearing those words, but he was still held tight as the guards started leading him towards the door. Though that small hope was there, he still felt horribly defeated, as though what had happened here was unexpected. But he knew he should've expected something like this to happen, for no man goes up against the King and comes out on top. Cecil finally gave in and agreed to leave, the guards releasing him, allowing him to walk with the shame on his own as he watched the door, still beaming in apparent contentment, and he hated it. Before he was even close enough to open it, the golden doors swung open and a knight marched valiantly through them, a face more solid in integrity than the azure armor he wore. Cecil stared with blank disbelief as the man walked right past him, storming towards the King almost threateningly.

"Your Majesty," he tried with any and every effort to get the King's attention, "You must hear him out! Cecil would never--"

"Kain!" the King cut in forcefully, infuriated to no end, "If you're so worried about Cecil, then you shall go with him!"

"But Your Majesty!" Cecil tried once more to get the King to hear him out, as if Kain had given him a second wind. But it was too late. The King was already in no mood to hear anything else. He was furious. The guards were once again restraining the two men as His Majesty stood up from his throne and marched up to them, robes flying wildly in his wake. He had something in his hand that reflected a distracting glow, and Cecil began to worry that it would not be something nice for them to take home with them.

"I have nothing more to say to you. Here, take this ring with you to Mist as a token of peace," the King spoke with the glare of the devil. He handed the ring to Cecil, who held it tight, not wanting to ever lose it, for it would mean the end if he did. His Majesty's face was looking rather tired, but he still seemed to exude his anger, "I don't want to see the two of you again until you return."

Cecil stared hopelessly at the King as he was forcefully removed from the throne room, his sights soon cut off as the doors broke his vision. The guards escorted Cecil and Kain out into the main hall, slamming the doors to the antechamber rather unceremoniously in their faces. They stood there for a moment, defiantly facing the door back into the throne room, only to realize how powerless they truly were...at least Cecil did.

"Sorry for getting you mixed up in all this, Kain." Cecil's face was grave and didn't bring any comfort to his friend staring back at him. Kain tried to lighten him up with a smile and a pat on the back, but Cecil didn't even feel it. He didn't feel anything anymore, except for the stark misery of all things lost.

"Don't worry, Cecil. As soon as we get back from Mist with a job well done, His Majesty will have no problem giving the Red Wings to your command again." Cecil didn't say a word, his face still locked in gloom. Kain was almost getting depressed just from looking at him. It pained him to see his friend this way, but he knew there was nothing he could really do to take it away. What he did know was what would most certainly help, "You've had a long day. Leave all the preparations to me, and go get some rest. You look like you could use it."

Kain thought he saw a slight smile break out underneath the depression that masked Cecil's face. He stuck his hand out warmly, and Cecil finally let a true smile find its way out. Cecil took the hand extended to him, and they each took their free arms around each others' neck in a brief show of their brotherhood. It was times like these that Cecil was happy to have a friend like Kain, and he let him go with a smile just so he would not have to worry anymore.

"You're probably right. I probably look like Hell's seventh circle right now," Cecil laughed a bit, thinking how disheveled he actually felt, and surely must look. Kain chuckled a bit himself, rather glad to see his friend with still a bit of spirit left.

"You want a drink before you go?" Kain offered, though the way Cecil was feeling he already knew the answer.

"No, thanks though. You're right; all I really need is some sleep." Cecil kindly declined, though he wished he had the energy to sit down and have a drink with the rest of the guys. He was simply too drained.

"Then I'll see you bright and early in the morning."

Cecil nodded him off, and Kain made his way back into the mess hall to return to the guys he had been drinking with before he barged into the throne room. He trusted Kain to take care of everything for this mission, what Cecil hoped to be the redeeming factor in his career. Kain had always been there for him in the past, and he had no doubt in his mind that he would be there for him this time. His cerulean armor contrasted sharply with the others of bronze, some of which were Red Wings just coming in after cleaning up the airships. He wished he had the life in him to sit down and enjoy what little time he could with the Dragoon, for his time as a Dark Knight would rarely allow it. As children they were inseparable, both orphaned at early ages, although Kain's parents fell to much more dire circumstances. His mother died when he was born, so he never knew who she was, and his father died when Kain was only five. He knew his father well, which made it so much worse for him to have to bear the news coming back to Baron of his father's death in the war. Though he was only five, he was deeply torn, and had it not been for Cecil filling that gap, he probably never would've made it. They both instantly became friends in the castle orphanage, and through their youth they aspired to become great and powerful knights under the King, using true swords at the tender ages of nine and ten, Kain being the senior. At first, their friendship seemed unbreakable, but that was soon tested as their paths took different turns. Cecil was chosen to become a Dark Knight, as His Majesty had always foreseen, while Kain desired to be what his father had been: a Knight of Dragons...a Dragoon. Cecil could still remember the day that it happened...



"You think you've got me don't you," Kain wheezed, his lungs aching through their melee, Cecil just as beat, "Well you're wrong!"

Kain lunged with surprising quickness, taking his blunt tipped spear, and driving it straight for Cecil's chest. Cecil was just as quick to knock it aside with his wooden sword, sending a foot out to sweep his friend's legs from under him. His fatigue was getting to him as he was only successful in taking one foot, but it was enough to send Kain off balance. Cecil knew Kain was just as tired, and he took the opportunity to try and go for a fatal blow to the back, but Kain surprised him again as he jumped high with the strength of only one leg over the incoming blade. Kain landed rather gracefully behind his friend, but Cecil wasted no time watching the acrobatics, and was already meeting him there with his sword, giving Kain only enough time to hold his spear one-handed between him and the point of attack. The force of both of Cecil's arms powering his swing was more than enough to send the spear to the ground, Kain's hand stinging as he had tried hard to keep a strong grip on it.

Cecil's smile became obvious, even through the sweat pouring from his dull silver hair, down the rigorous terrain of his face. Kain was smiling just as well as the wooden blade poked his neck playfully a few times. Cecil continued to tease him with the wooden prod until Kain finally knocked the sword away from his neck in friendly annoyance.

"Okay, okay. You got me. Happy now?" Kain scoffed at Cecil, who was currently laughing like an idiot. Kain couldn't help but laugh as he watched his friend, so entertained by these things. It was a short lived moment of happiness as the sound of quiet applause was heard behind them. As they turned to see just who had been watching, their hearts quickly hopped up into their throats.

"Well done, Cecil, Kain." the King congratulated them with a serious tone of elation in his voice. Both of the youths swallowed their hearts and broke into a smile.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." both said in near unison, so nervous they couldn't bring themselves to laugh at their own stupor. The King noticed their apparent jitters, and chuckled a bit to himself.

"Relax you two. No need to be so tense." he tried to calm their over-excitement. Though they tried to act a little more composed, they knew they couldn't hold it forever, for they were both under review for positions as His Majesty's knights; Cecil as a Dark Knight, and Kain as a Dragoon. As noble as their efforts were, their hearts found themselves creeping back into their throats as the King continued, "You may or may not know why I'm here today, but..." that slow creep turned into a magnificent leap, air becoming of no concern as their throats closed off completely in anticipation, "You know, there are times in a boy's life when he must decide what he is to become as a man. There are so many things one must consider before..."

"If he doesn't get to the point, I'm gonna die." Kain whispered through exasperated lungs, still holding his breath, Cecil nodding in turn.

"I know." Cecil agreed, his face already looking even more flushed than it was before. Neither of them was truly paying attention to the King's words, but they did well to hide it, as they seemed calm and attentive. They didn't finally come back down to Earth until he actually called one of them by name.

"Cecil." the King demanded attention before continuing, "How old are you, son?"

"I'm sixteen, Your Majesty."

"Well then, I suppose you are old enough to begin your formal training," the King responded, a certain joy behind the mask of his deep commanding voice. Cecil's breath burst from his mouth in utter excitement, his eyes about ready to explode from their sockets. Kain was still turning different colors as he waited for His Majesty to finish, "I will send an officer to your quarters by tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Cecil barely spit out with a smile wider than his face. He watched with un-abounding happiness as the King just smiled back at him, and then turned to leave. Cecil's smile quickly faded as he turned around to see Kain, his eyes nearly sagging off of his face, the look of utter misery upon him. The King had said not a word to the blonde-haired boy, and Cecil could see Kain’s hopes of becoming a Dragoon fading much like his smile. Cecil knew that Kain was so much more deserving of a position in the kingdom than he, and he tried to comfort his friend in this depressing moment. But before he could even lay a warm hand on his shoulder or even say he was sorry, he was immediately surprised to see Kain's eyes perk up again. Cecil whirled around at the sound of elegant shoes tapping stone blocks, as His Majesty once again approached them.

"Oh, and Kain." the King said, no sign of any emotion in his voice. Kain only hoped he was hiding it.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"You've just turned seventeen, have you not?" the King asked, still not giving any hint to what he was going to say next. Kain couldn't bring thoughts and words together quick enough.

"Y-Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good. Captain Seiks has requested your presence in his quarters. You are to report to him immediately." the King ordered, now smiling with a most certain satisfaction, "I trust you know where the Dragoon barracks are."

"Yes, Your Majesty" Kain bit back the urge to start blathering uncontrollably before the King, keeping a cool composure as any Dragoon should have.

"Congratulations to both of you. You have shown that you deserve to be a part of Baron's elite, and I trust you will not let me down during your trials."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." was all that Kain could possibly manage in his excitement.

"We will never let down the kingdom of Baron." Cecil assured their King, both youths smiling so wide inside, yet keeping it rather well settled on the outside.

"Take this time you have left to enjoy your youth," the King advised both of them, "For tomorrow will be the beginning of the rest of your lives as men."

And that was it. From the next morning on they only saw each other on rare occasions, most of their days spent in rigorous training sessions, and other things that neither of them was actually allowed to talk about. Their friendship was slowly coming apart at the joints, and clouds of secrecy washed over each of them. It wasn't until they had fully graduated from their training classes and taken their final oaths, falling into their respective knighthoods, that they could find time to see each other again. But that was nearly two years later, and things had changed drastically between them, both personalities driven in new directions. They had become true knights under the King, true men in the eyes of their peers, and most of all they were not kids anymore...they had grown up.



A smile would've liked to have made itself known as these fond memories fell rapturously upon him, but in the undeniable light of what had just happened, he couldn't find it in him to let it out. Cecil just stood in the main hall for a moment as all the mental havoc sank in; giving in to the pressure it had been laying upon him. This pain was the only thing his dark helmet couldn't protect him from, although he wished it could. He heard the laughter of the men in the mess hall and he remembered how he used to be the same way after a victorious mission. But today was not a victory. Murder was not victory. Cecil was getting angry at himself, and he didn't want to think about it anymore. He was about ready to just crawl up to his room and stay there for a good while, maybe forever.

He soon felt a strange warmth in his hand, and it brought his attention to the ring that had been given to him by the King. Its heat had managed its way even through his armor, and it wasn't a normal kind of sensation he was feeling. It was strangely cold at the same time. He began to observe it, as if to discover some mystery of its origin, but he found nothing absolutely out of the ordinary. The ring was cast of solid gold, and resting peacefully atop its glimmering surface was a dark red jewel, swirling storm clouds flowing deep within. Upon a certain reflection caught by the light of a nearby torch, Cecil was able to recognize some sort of inscription emblazoned on the inside of the ring. He tried to decipher the foreign words, for they seemed vaguely familiar, but he found no translations in his knowledge of the few old languages he had learned in childhood classes. He swiftly decided he needed to brush up on those old studies, for they could've proven useful in a situation like this.

He realized he was standing there in the middle of the main hall, staring at a gold ring, making a spectacle of himself. Though only a few people had noticed, they didn't dare let him catch them watching from afar. Those in the mess hall were more concerned with their mugs running low than with Cecil's daydreaming. Cecil pushed such foolish worries away, trying to concentrate on what mattered most...getting some sleep.

Why should I care about this so much? Cecil questioned his wandering mind, slightly amused with the mocking tone was taking with himself. If it's not the armor I wear, it's the jewelry I receive. I swear I'm becoming more of a woman about these things.

A humorous grin peeked out of the corners of his lips, laughing at the joke he had made of himself. He released a relaxing sigh, although as relaxing as it was, he still felt that pang of miserable pain run down his spine. Things were going to change, and he began to realize it a little more with each step he took as he walked away from the antechamber doors. He didn't want any of this happen, but it had happened nonetheless, and His Majesty would never be able to look him the same. Cecil didn't want to think anymore, nearly too exhausted to even do that. All he wanted was sleep, and sleep he would get...if he could make it to his room.

With my luck, everyone will want to ask me what happened, Cecil thought with a soft sigh. And I don't even know what to tell them.

This post has been edited by SpacemanSpiff on 1st February 2004 08:07

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Jeez, another signature...i can't do this anymore, just kill me already!

Very, very well done. That blows me away, like the wind from departing airships!

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Check the "What games are you playing at the moment?" thread for updates on what I've been playing.

You can find me on the Fediverse! I use Mastodon, where I am @[email protected] ( https://sakurajima.moe/@glennmagusharvey )

here's a new chappie for y'all nice forum folk

* III *



- Memories -



What has happened,

is all in the past.

The pain that is felt,

will surely not last.

But memories have a way

of finding lost souls.

And it feels like walking

on a bed of hot coals.

But worry not of these memories,

for not all carry woe.

For some bear more,

than you will ever know.



*



Brave torches tried with noble efforts to make the lonely stone woven corridor seem alight, but Cecil's monstrous shadow devoured them hungrily, mercilessly. It was as if the bobbing flames were but mere morsels for his voracious darkness, brief moments of happiness drowned in woe. It reminded him of when he was descending upon the star-crossed village of Mysidia, and how not even the sun was vivacious enough to bring the day to life. Ever since they had reached that forsaken village the day had fallen under a dark cloud, and shrouds seemed to dangle mockingly in his face. If he could tear them down he would, but he didn't know where to begin, or even how to rid himself of this twinge. What frightened him the most was not that all of this was hanging over him, but that he actually felt at home within it. This darkness was his home.

This is what I am. A Dark Knight. Cecil told himself, as though maybe it would somehow make him feel like this was not so wrong, his footsteps echoing hard against the drums of his ears. This is what I do.

Though he knew it was the truth, it sure as hell didn't feel like it. He could've sent a clean hole through the stone wall with all the pent up emotion inside, but he did well to keep it contained. The last thing he would want was a part of his wages docked for destruction of castle property, as if it mattered that much. But he had to have something to hold on to, some small rope of life to hang on. If money was that last rope, then by God so be it.

These are the trying times... he thought, remembering how he had mulled over the same notions earlier that morning. He started to realize just how much everything had changed in this half of a day...How much I have changed.

He was quickly feeling closed in, surrounded by the darkness he was shedding, and he wanted to break out of it. He started to pick up his pace down the hallway, steel on stone cracking in swift erratic beats creating a sharp rhythmic reverberation reeling through the shadows. He was so close to the doors, and he would've burst through them with all of his strength, everything he had to escape the dark that followed him, if it weren't for one sweet, seductive sound that broke through every dark wall, hitting his ears so lovely. A voice, he realized, that sounded so wonderful at that moment, compared to the thunderous boom of His Majesty, which still lingered in his head.

Rosa

"Cecil," she called as she ran delicately down the stone way, coming to a gentle stop before the Dark Knight. Cecil stopped, but he didn't dare turn to her, just to keep from her what worries were upon his face. He continued to stare at the strong wooden door that stood between the outside and his darkness, worried he might never see the other side, "Thank God you're alright. Your mission was so sudden, and this morning I...I was worried."

He could hear the loving concern in her soft voice, feel the beautiful breath of her words hit his back, and he imagined how cold he must seem. His heart begged him to turn around and gaze upon what beauty stood behind him, but his mind would give no such response. He would not allow his foolish emotions to take a hold of him, although they called so tenderly, so enticing...so hard to let go. Cecil's lack of response to Rosa's words left her a little unsettled, and she reached a loving hand to his as she drew closer to him, still facing the endless darkness of the back of his helmet.

"Are you hurt?" she asked tenderly, unsure of the brooding man before her.

Such a simple question, and I don't even know how to truly answer it

"No, I'm fine," Cecil responded, though he knew there were levels of pain coursing through him. He knew he was not harmed physically, but mentally...that was a whole other story, "It's hard to take a wound when your enemy has no chance to resist."

"Cecil..." her warm voice hit him harder this time, pulling stronger at the strings of his heart and he finally gave in. Cecil turned slowly but surely, eventually laying his despairing eyes upon the beautiful figure, long blonde curls draped over a perfect face, much like her white silken robes falling effortlessly down a perfect body; as exquisite as a flower...a rose. She gazed so deeply into the bottomless blue of his eyes, lightly shadowed by the slight overhang of his helmet, a faint twinkle reflecting torches through the darkness. He knew she could see things through his eyes that he would never tell her, and he almost felt relieved that he wouldn't have to. He tried hard not to show her his pain, but she broke through barriers before he ever had the chance to put them up. And her voice still carried so caring, "Something awful must have happened, you look upset. Can you tell me?"

Not now. Please, don't make me say this now.

"It's okay," she assured him after a moment of verbose silence, as though she had just made conversation with his last thoughts. Her porcelain skin radiated so peacefully in the torchlight, and Cecil almost envied such a thing. He wished he could be at such peace with himself, though at the point he was at the word peace was farther away than he cared to imagine. Her hand fed a wondrous warmth through him, but it only made him wonder how cold his touch must feel to her, though she still stared so compassionate, "You don't have to tell me now. May I see you again tonight?"

Cecil wished he could've said something, something that would bring her some small scrap of comfort, but the words never came out of his mouth. He could only move his head slowly in a short, desolated nod. It surprised him to see her smile through all of this, all of the sorrow that filled the air. He somehow managed to return the gesture, though not nearly as wide or as bright as the one on her face, but it still made him feel a little better. Her hand gracefully lifted to his cheek, gently stroking the rough skin, and he felt as though he would melt in his armor. His eyes fell softly closed, allowing him to drown in this feeling, so intoxicating.

"Then I'll see you later. I have a class I must get back to," her tender touch ran down his cheek to the tip of his chin, leaving a trail of tingles and goose bumps. As her hand left his face he was able to open his eyes again, and he saw her smile as she began to turn and walk away. He wanted her to come back for just a moment more, and his skin reached out for her, though he stood solemnly still. He watched her take a few steps away before turning back, her smile still unwavering in the dark corridor, actually making it seem somewhat brighter. He imagined an angel could do the same, "Don't forget to leave a candle for me."

"Of course..." Cecil trailed into so many mixed feelings, unsure of which emotion to fall into. She left him with a feeling of so much more than when he had started walking down this lonely hallway, her hand giving a short wave as she finally made her way back from whence she came. He watched her, the robes flowing elegant around her legs, hovering just over the stone floor, and her hair bouncing with her steps. She was so perfect, and she was his, and he knew that was all he truly needed to live. His whispers followed helplessly after her, "You will always be the light..."

...to my darkness...

His smile immediately started to ebb away as he saw her disappear down the stairs at the end of the way. He was alone again, with only the torches keeping him company, bobbing so friendly, only to be devoured once more by his looming darkness. So depressing he began to find the scene, as his walls of gloom were once more erected and were starting to close in around him. He wanted nothing more to do with such things, and he turned around swiftly to drive his palm into the wooden door before him, opening up to a blue canvas set on fire in sunset.

He actually found himself lost in the beauty of orange and red fires painted across the sky, slowly making his way across the court to the edge of the parapet. He gazed through long, silent spells, and at that moment he actually felt free. A light breeze kissed his skin, almost as tender as Rosa's touch, though it would never bring the same emotions that she could. She had a way of bringing out those deeper feelings to his surface, and embracing them with loving arms. Perhaps it was just that they had known each other for so long, ever since they were kids as a matter of fact. Just like Kain, Cecil had met this lovely girl at a young age, although then they were more of friends just having fun together. They had met just outside the town of Baron, in the small forest that creeps up from the northeast. They were around seven, Cecil remembered, and they were out in the woods playing with sticks as though they were swords...



"Hey Cecil. I bet we'll see a monster today. I heard some guards saying they've seen some strange things out here." Kain said, rather excitedly as he swept his long stick from side to side, as though hacking through some imaginary beast. Cecil wore a broad smile, for he had the very same feeling that they would find adventure this day. Just what kind of adventure, they weren't even ready for.

"Yeah, we'll find something. I know it."

The sun poured in through broken spots in the evergreen ceiling, leaving pieces of light and shadow randomly scattered about the grass. The two venturesome children walked rather carelessly through the forest, even though they knew that if they came face-to-face with a ravenous creature then they would be ill prepared. But that certainly didn't stop them from enjoying the thought of seeing such a sight, overweighing the thought of not ever living to tell about it. It was rather quiet, save for the twigs and dead leaves that fell rather noisily beneath their shoes. It was unusually calm as well, though neither Cecil nor Kain had developed such senses, and the fact that not even a wisp of air had passed by did not seem strange to them. They were only looking for one thing...adventure.

"How far do you think we'll have to go?" Kain asked, noticing with a glance behind him that the castle was beginning to disappear. Cecil didn't even bother to look back, keeping a bold smile as he walked confidently forward.

"Who knows? Maybe we'll have to walk all day," Cecil replied, a hint of jest in his voice that he tried to keep Kain unaware of.

"You think?" Kain said, a little nervous about traveling so far from the castle without any way of protecting themselves if they actually did encounter something dangerous. Cecil would've laughed, but he was starting to think that turning around might not be such a bad idea after all.

"Nah, we'll go a little further before we turn around."

They trotted their path a few minutes more before they finally gave up, not having seen a single thing to spark their interest. They stood for a moment under a soft ray of light pouring in through the treetops, letting the sun warm their faces. After conceding to the day, the boys turned and started to make their trail back to the castle. They had only gotten two steps away before their feet planted into the ground...a sound had come from a nearby bush. Both pairs of wondrous eyes were instantly locked on the suspected shrubbery, watching with every bit of attention they had. At first they saw nothing, no movement or sounds. They began to wonder if their minds were playing games with them, but they were soon reassured of their instincts as the brush shook lightly in harmony with a short, quiet squeal. Cecil and Kain both lit up like sunrise, smiles bigger than their faces could carry plastered on each of them. They looked at each other with paired astonishment, for they had finally found their adventure for today.

"There's something in that bush. Should we go take a look?" Kain asked, although with the look on Cecil's face he already had an answer. Cecil looked as though he would rush through the bushes at any second with every intention of discovering what lay on the other side. But that look was rather quickly turned around as the bush once more shook, although this time much more violently, and the squeal was louder and more...monster-like. Cecil glanced at Kain, who gave him worried eyes back.

"Why don't you go look?" Cecil offered. Kain's eye twitched.

"No, that's okay. You can go look." Kain responded, handing back the offering of being the first victim. Cecil wasn't about to be outdone here.

"Yeah, but I really think you should go look. You've got a bigger stick." Cecil came back, trying to negotiate through this. Kain still didn't seem too terribly excited about going into the bush.

"How come I always have to go look?" Kain complained, something he had become rather good at. Cecil just rolled his eyes as he knew this was going to get them nowhere. The bushes rattled and squealed once more, assuring them that their surprise had not left them behind. They were going to find out what this was, whether or not it be good or bad.

"Okay. How about we both go look?" Cecil finally gave the right answer, Kain replying with a nervous nod. They turned their wary gaze to the shrubs, nerves not even close to steel, but about as close as they were going to get. Anxious steps moved slowly towards the bush, taking care not to scare whatever was in there. Just before they got within an arms length, the bush shook again, although not as violent as before and the sound was barely audible. Still they were cautious to approach, and once they were upon it, they stopped and glanced at each other one last time. With a brave nod to each other they faced the bush and prepared to storm through, pushing back whatever fear they had of what might be lurking in there.

"YAAHHH!!" both kids yelled in loud unison, tearing through brush, thin leaves and limbs flying into the air. The sheer moment of it was pure excitement as their small legs propelled them into a new adventure. And that's where they found her.

"Eeeekk!" a shrill cry burst from her mouth as she fell hard on her bottom, a pair of sharp tree branches pointed menacingly at her. Her frightened eyes fell down the sharp wood, leading to the two young boys standing over her. The two sticks quickly fell to the boys' sides and their eyes stared wide at this beautiful girl they had found, which was certainly not something commonly seen in these woods. Silence ensued for a few moments, and they just stared at each other as if in some trance, or perhaps just playing a game of who can stare the longest. The girl eventually picked herself up, a little miffed that neither of the boys would help her, but even standing up she felt a bit intimidated as they still stood over her. The boys continued to gaze wondrously, completely unsure of exactly what they should do with this find. They weren't even sure if this was a monster or not, although she certainly didn't look like one. Her short, curled locks of blonde hair dangled around her little face, and she wore a loose, bright-colored sundress; something similar to what Cecil and Kain had seen girls wearing in town this time of year. But they still couldn't be sure, and Kain couldn't help but ask.

"Are you a monster?" Kain asked shyly, unsure if she would soon open her mouth and fry him with a spray of fire. He wasn't too far off it would seem.

"Do I look like a monster?" she came back, rather angry that someone would perceive her that way. She immediately grabbed an angry attitude out of nowhere, immediately thinking these boys were just stupid, "Jerk."

"Well you sure sounded like one in that bush," Kain replied, almost ready to laugh, but the look she gave him instantly caused him to choke it back.

"I have allergies, but you probably couldn't even spell that," she spit a flaming retort back at the blonde-haired boy. She turned her fiery eyes to the boy who still had said not a word, his blue eyes large on his face. After seeing how quick she was to a temper, Cecil decided to take a softer approach.

"What's your name?"

"Rosa..." she replied, a little less hostile, "Rosa Farrell."

"Farrell?" Kain blurted out in surprise, his jaw taking a short trip south as his mouth hung open. Cecil was just as surprised, but he did a little better than Kain to mask it.

"As in Fredrick Farrell?" Cecil tried to act calm as he mentioned the name, though Kain was hot on his heels, "The--"

"The greatest knight to ever come through Baron?! The greatest knight of all time?!!" Kain quickly interrupted his friend, too excited to even hold the words in. Rosa gave him an annoyed stare as he had nearly jumped a foot in her direction as he babbled. Her eyes forced him to take that foot back. Cecil had a hand on his friend's shoulder, trying to keep him away from the jaws of this beast they had stumbled upon, wrapped up in a cute "little-girl" wrapper. He actually found it amusing that Kain was getting so sociable towards this girl, even though she evidently did not want such pestilence.

"Yea, so?" she put her hands on her hips as she questioned their excitement. She knew her father had been a knight in the kingdom, but had never truly known how great he was. Her mother had told stories about him, but that was about it. She didn't really have a mind for all of those kinds of things, "How do you know my father?"

"Oh wow, Cecil. This is the daughter of Fredrick The Great!" Kain exclaimed with utmost joy. Cecil tried to calm him down, but he was finding it hard to keep himself calm. The excitement was surely all over his face, but he wasn't about to go jump up and down about it.

"So you live in Baron?" Cecil asked, trying not to test the girl’s patience. She seemed to act a little more civil when he was talking to her, but he figured it was just Kain being so annoying.

"Yes, I live with my mother in the village." she responded, her soft eyes studying the little boy, although bigger than she. She showed a strange relentless courage, especially to have been all the way out here.

"So what's a girl like you doing out here?" Kain spit out, almost asking for a rampant reaction of utter wrath. They could see it coming before she even spoke, as her face nearly disfigured in a distasteful look of anger.

"What do you mean 'a girl like me'?!" she exploded on the boy, causing him to take an extra step back just in case, "I can do whatever I want, I'll have you know."

"We just want to know why you were hiding in that bush." Cecil tried to play peacekeeper, though it didn't seem to be working. She still huffed at his question, as much as she disliked giving an answer. She was staring at him just as steamed now.

"Fine, I'll tell you. But only if I get to play with you guys and look for monsters." she lay the deal on the table for them. Cecil was thinking about it, but Kain was already up in arms about the whole thing.

"What? Are you kidding?" he responded, a little vexed that she would even say such a thing, "Girls can't hunt monsters. It's a man's job."

"Well you're not a man either so why are you out here?" she came back quite agitated. Kain was getting angry now, especially after that last little comment.

"Pft! Fine, whatever." he gave up, letting Cecil make the negotiations with this one. He sure as hell wasn't getting anywhere with her.

"How 'bout you tell us first, then we'll decide if you can play or not." Cecil tried his best to make some path through all of this fervor passing between these two. Rosa's glare fell upon him, and he actually found himself a little nervous of what she might say, or do to him.

"If I must," she conceded with an exaggerated sigh. Cecil couldn't believe she had actually agreed, her glare fading as she looked off and away for a moment before returning to the two boys, "I was following you. I see you guys going out into the forest all the time while I'm helping my mother in the garden. I finally decided today that I would find out what you were doing. Then you two had to come barreling through the bushes and scare me half to death."

"Believe me you scared us," Kain admitted with a shy laugh, though Cecil gave him a glare that put that quickly to rest. Kain wasn't about to let it go, however, "I mean, Cecil was scared, not me."

"I was not!" Cecil gave Kain a hard punch in the arm.

"Your name is Cecil?" Rosa came out, a little surprised at the name, Cecil even more surprised that she was so curious.

"Yeah."

"I've heard of you," she responded, "You're the orphan that the King adopted. You live in the castle."

"Hey, my name's Kain. I live in the castle, too." Kain followed up. Rosa instantly was back in her normal, dry sarcasm mood again.

"Gee, that's actually kinda strange," she said, feigning astonishment, "I didn't think they let morons live in the castle."

"Hey!"

"Ahem!" Cecil broke in before things erupted into a war, "Um, maybe we should talk about this later. It's getting late, and we probably should be back at the castle soon."

The sun was beginning to set off in the distance, and the shadows in the forest were becoming increasingly darker. Before long they would never be able to navigate their way through the thick shade of night.

"Well then let's go." Kain said, very ready to be rid of this nuisance.

"I'm going to need a stick." Rosa suddenly alerted the two boys, neither of them exactly sure what she meant. They stared, dumbfounded, for a moment or two until she spoke up, "If I'm going to help hunt monsters, then I'm going to need a stick."

"But..." Kain nearly fell over in shock. There was no way he was going to go get her a stick. Cecil was nearly covered with as much awe, but he turned and looked at Kain with accepting eyes. Kain knew exactly what he was saying to him, and he reluctantly took his own stick over his knee, snapping it in half, mumbling something they probably shouldn't hear under his breath. He looked at the two pieces before walking over and handing her the smaller half, "Here."

"Thank you, Kain." she said with a victorious smile. Kain bit back the urge to take it and break it into even smaller pieces over her head, and he even managed a smile as well.

"Okay then. Let's get going." Rosa commanded, taking her stick and using it to lead her forward, ordering her two troops to march behind her. They couldn't believe the arrant self-confidence she had, and somehow they latched onto it and were unwillingly pulled at her whim. They didn't know what it was, but their feet took them with her, and they followed her all the way home...



That was how it had all begun, and they remained friends from that day forth. Even Kain had gotten used to her after a while, and her insults became more like teasing as time went on. They would often travel into the forest together on their little "monster hunts", and Rosa actually had grown to enjoy their company more than the girls back in the village. She had that tomboyish attitude that made her so interesting, and yet she looked so delicate and beautiful on the outside. At first glance one would think she was the perfect little girl...and then she would open her mouth, and all that would go out the window. Cecil couldn't help but laugh at these memories he had of her. She had grown so much over the years, but she still would sometimes unleash a bit of that old attitude. It's what had made her so unique, the fact that she could talk down any man, no matter how manly he could be. They had known each other since they were so young, and they had become such good friends, but only recently had they discovered that their bond ran deeper. They had been seeing each other for a few months now.

The memories were falling away as fast as the sun, as it plunged deeper into the horizon. Cecil stood, watching and waiting until the last sliver of its golden splendor disappeared behind the glowing deserts to the far west. He was slowly coming back to reality now, the realizations of what he had done earlier rising from his stomach to greet him. He wondered if there would be a time when this would all go away, not just the pain, but this life in general. Sure he knew he would die someday, but what if he woke up one day and he wasn't a Dark Knight anymore, and he no longer lived here in Baron? What if he would never see Rosa or Kain ever again?

How could I even think such things? I would never leave Baron, and I will not leave the ones I love behind.

As much as he forced the words through his mind, he couldn't help but think that it could possibly happen. He had already been stripped of his command as Captain, and his life as a Dark Knight rested on a thin line depending on how this next mission was carried out.

Life, unfortunately, is not like a sunset. You can't guarantee that it will come back on the other side.

The sky had turned a deep hue of red, and Cecil could see the shade of night creeping up as he glanced to the east. His breath fell hesitantly from his mouth with a sigh, trying to rid himself of all these thoughts. The sunset had helped at first, bringing him those fond memories, but now he felt as though he was left with nothing.

Sleep! I need sleep!

Cecil quickly turned to face the northwest tower, the thought of having to climb every stair to the top to reach his bed hitting him at the sight of it. He wondered if he might collapse and find sleep somewhere on the way up, but he pushed it aside and made his way for the double doors. As Cecil was about to make his way into the tower he heard another voice calling out to him from a parapet on the next level up.

"Cecil!" the voice rang out clear as a bell, though a bit rough, as though maybe the bell had a small crack in it somewhere. It was the exuberant voice that he knew too well, for he heard it about every day. Cecil looked up to the top of the stone wall and saw a large head poking out over the grey. It was Cid, the head engineer of Baron, and he was waving for the Dark Knight to wait up, "Hold up! I'll be right down!"

As tired as he was, Cecil stayed put for the old guy's sake. He wasn't really that old, but he was surely getting there, Cecil realized. He was getting into his late forties, though he would never admit to it. He would still run around like he's in his prime, though he would say he still hasn't reached his prime yet. He wasn't much for looks either, as he came hobbling across the court, standing at least a foot shorter than the Dark Knight, though his personality definitely made up for the lack of height. His face was overruled by a big, bushy brown beard and his engineer clothing was ripped and stained in all kinds of oils and grease. His considerable head was covered with his engineer's cap, colored orange and blue, with mud flaps curled up at the sides giving the idea that his head might take flight from his shoulders. All of this wondrous vision of a man was topped with the goggles over his eyes that made him look more peculiar than anything. As Cid came over and started chatting with Cecil, he lifted his goggles to rest on top of his head, making the area around his eyes the only clean spot on his body.

"Hey, Cecil. It's good to see you back so soon, and without a scratch it seems. I take it things went well. You know, Rosa's been worried," the engineer let a brief smile show through the thick beard before he shook a finger at Cecil with a soft warning, "If you make her cry, I won't forgive you."

"Don't worry, Cid. I wouldn't forgive myself if I ever made her cry," Cecil replied with every bit of truth in his voice, "As for things going well today...that's a different story."

"Actually, now that I look at ya, you do look pretty beat. Not quite as smooth as you had hoped, eh?" Cid kindly probed at Cecil's thoughts, though he didn't actually know what he had been ordered to do. Cid just built things, "By the way, how are my lovely airships doing? I don't want your crewmen abusing them."

Cid had said it as a joke, for he knew that Cecil was always careful with his "babies". The airships were of his creation, his pride and joy, and it had made him a very wealthy man here in Baron, although the only wealth he ever wanted was the opportunity to continue building them. He didn't care all that much about the money, except when it came to giving his daughter a good life. Cid's joke didn't seem to take, and he knew something was wrong at this point.

"Hey, what's with the face?"

"To tell the truth, Cid, I...um..." Cecil started explaining about the mission at first, saying how smooth the ride was over to Mysidia, then how things went downhill from there. After giving a brief explanation of what had happened in Mysidia, skipping all the details of blood spilt and such, he told of the ride back, "...and we were coming back, minding our own business, when we were attacked by these monsters. We managed to defeat them, but at the cost of some heavy damage to the flagship. The pilot of the number two ship to our starboard side was taken by one of them, and the ship collided with us. There was no way we could stop it, and we were lucky the airship didn't fall apart."

Cid went nuts.

"What?! My baby was hurt?!" Cid erupted for a brief moment before deflating with a sigh. He knew Cecil would do his best to keep the airships unharmed, but these things eventually happen, "I guess she's still kickin' or else you wouldn't be standing here. If the engines are still in good shape then that should cut down a lot on the repairs, but damn. I can't believe that happened. I'll have to figure out something to keep that from happening again, but until then just try to keep an eye out for these things."

"That's another thing, Cid..." Cecil was almost too dispirited to share the bad news, but it needed to be said, "I'm no longer the Captain of the Red Wings, as served to me by His Majesty upon my return."

"..." Cid was absolutely stricken with dubiety, "You've got to be kiddin' me."

"I'm sorry, Cid, but I'm serious." Cecil watched the engineer fall further into the look of the dumbfounded, "I made the mistake of questioning the word of the King, and I paid the price. I'm sorry."

"That's crazy! Nobody besides you could command the Red Wings!" Cid burst into a fit of fury, throwing his hands wildly into the air as he began to pace a bit in front of the Dark Knight, " Jeez, what's with His Majesty recently? He unrightfully takes away your command of my airships, and his idiot soldiers go and wreck one, and he still has the nerve to bug me about my designs."

"What designs?" Cecil was a bit curious.

"He keeps telling me to make a new model of airship, with more weaponry and substantial storage for more firebombs." Cid responded, still pacing a bit to keep his blood pressure from shooting through his cap, "He wants more death and destruction, but I don't want to turn the airships into war machines."

"I think it's too late for that," Cecil admitted, knowing Cid would not enjoy hearing such things, "The world seems to fear us enough already."

"Screw the world!" Cid spat back, not really at Cecil but more at the King for bringing this image upon his creation, "My airships are not tools of war, and they never will be as long as I have anything to do with it!" Cid continued to fume for a few moments before finally relaxing, his pacing slowing to a stop eventually. His grease covered hands were brought up to his face, and wiped the skin and beard down as though to take the anger away with it. He seemed to lighten up a bit after that, looking back at Cecil with a look more of sorrow than anything else, "I'm sorry, Cecil. I don't mean to lay all of this on you. I should take this up with His Majesty. Maybe I'll do that tomorrow, but for now I think I need to get home. I've been workin' way too much for my daughter's liking and she's givin' me hell about it. You should try and get some rest too, Cecil. You look like you could use it."

"That's not the first time I've heard that today," Cecil replied, letting a little laugh peek out. Cid laughed a bit, too, though he had a new mission in his head and his mind was running around too many things to really take in Cecil's words, "I'll stop by tomorrow before I head out."

"Where are you going?" Cid asked, pulled from his mind's feud for a moment, "You've been assigned a new mission already? What about the King relieving you of your command?"

"I get the pleasure of walking to Mist tomorrow, so you don't have to worry about the airships," Cecil tried to seem in a lightened mood, slapping the engineers shoulder with a grin.

"Well that should save me the worries that my babies won't be put in harm's way," Cid came back with a gentle jab, laughing a bit with Cecil. They always did find a way to end with a good laugh after a conversation, no matter how grim the topic turned out to be. Cecil enjoyed talking with him for that very reason. Ever since Cecil had become the Captain of the Red Wings, he had become very attached to Cid. If His Majesty was considered to be Cecil's father, than Cid would very well be his uncle.

"Have a good night, and say 'Hi' to your daughter for me," Cecil said as he started to turn and make his way to the tower.

"I will, and don't you go worrying about the airship. I'll have her nice and pretty as soon as you become Captain again."

Both men made their ways in their different directions, Cid more than likely making his way to the engineering docks one last time to survey the damage on the airship before heading home. Cecil was finally allowed to go to his room and get the rest he craved so badly. He didn't really think about it, but he had never had such a hard time just getting some rest, like the day was out to get him, or something like that. As he pushed the listless doors wide open, he knew he had passed into the safe zone, where no person would keep him from his slumber. Though his talk with Cid had livened him up a bit, he soon found apathy as each stair took its toll on his body. He trudged up the stairs wearily, unable to even find it in himself to count them, for the thoughts were too pressing on his mind. And just when he thought he was safe from having to converse with another person, he came to the last flight of stairs where his maid was waiting to greet him before he went to bed. Luckily she noticed how beaten he appeared to be, and she made her words nice a short.

"I hear you're heading out tomorrow. You're bed is ready. Good night"

Cecil didn't even really hear her. He just kept trudging forward as soon as she moved out of the way, leaving a gaping mouth of steps, the light of a candle tumbling down to him. He climbed the small flight of stairs to his room, taking no time to enjoy just the thought of being home, and he shed his armor quickly, leaving the shadowed pieces strewn about the stone floor. His feet stung against the cold stone, but he never would've known it, as he walked so slowly to the feather mattress, sheets and all tucked with care for him. He wondered if it was the maid's doing or if Rosa had done this for him, as she sometimes did. The thought didn't really matter all that much as he simply craved to be one with the mattress, falling errantly onto his bed with arms and legs outstretched as far as possible. As he lay on the soft sheets he could almost feel the pain and fatigue lifting off of his body, a surreal feeling that he hadn't experienced in quite a while. Not since his training days in the Order.

Even then I never hurt like this

He eventually made himself adjust his body to the length of the bed, crawling under the cotton sheets, though to Cecil, feeling more like silk. Anything softer than a rock would have been pleasant enough for him to sleep upon, and he was glad to have such a fine abode. Not even the light of the single candle he had left for Rosa was enough to tear his mission for sleep away, and he actually smiled under all the warmth and comfort he had wrapped around himself. His eyelids found themselves resting peacefully over his eyes, and he was blessed with a moment of a clear mind. He immediately took it for all it was worth, falling quickly into a silent slumber.


--------------------

Jeez, another signature...i can't do this anymore, just kill me already!

Beutiful. Simply great. I love it. I wish i could buy a book

--------------------

If you've been mod-o-fied,
It's an illusion, and you're in-between.
Don't you be tarot-fied,
It's just alot of nothing, so what can it mean?
~Frank Zappa

Sins exist only for people who are on the Way or approaching the Way

A quick update here, but I'm still so far from the end ::::sigh:::::. It's a long road ahead

* IV *



- Nightingale -



What sound this is,

floats so softly there.

Pours in sweet,

through midnight air.

Found these ears,

a song so fair,

and flows in waves,

in the curls of her hair.

And hazel mirrors,

catch a lovely stare,

as her voice still lingers,

in that midnight air.



*



The darkness shrouded him as he stood alone in silence, yet it wavered as though it was but a curtain blowing in a dull breeze. He wondered if it was tangible, this thick black that surrounded him, and he reached a wary hand out to touch it. With some surprise, his fingers tore through the shadow's skin as though his hand wore daggers, splitting the darkness wide open. Light charged through the gaps in heavy roaring rays, beating on the lenses of his eyes, his daggered hand lifting to block this unwelcome brightness. But there was something more to this light than he knew, and it tugged on him, inviting him in. He could think of no other choice but to follow, and so he stepped through the tear in this curtain, making his way into the unknown. As he came out on the other side, he realized the mistake he had made.

No. Not again!

There he stood, alone with his fears as his reflection gazed at him through crystal tiles and walls, stained red with the blood of Mysidia. The bodies were gone, but the blood remained, pooled in a massive puddle before him and he couldn't help but stare in anger at the sight. This room, once so pure and untainted, was now filled with visions of death and the acrid smell of blood. And it was all because of him.

Not here! This can't be happening!

He knew it was a dream, or a nightmare as he would've rather thought of it, but it felt so real, the emotions it ripped out of him, and the smell of death so pungent. It was like he was truly standing there in that chamber back in Mysidia, and all of the trauma that had settled there was coming back to take its revenge on him.

I have to wake up, his thoughts poured into this dream, but he felt as though he had no control of it. Dreams are supposed to be shaped the way you want, but it wasn't working that way this time, and the panic button was repeatedly being set off, Wake up!

It was of no use. He could not force himself out of this nightmare, and he watched with utter horror as things started to change for the worst. His eyes caught sight of the rostrum, standing tall in the middle of this enlightened chamber, and for a moment he couldn't believe what he was seeing. His eyes stretched wide open in a look of pure terror as small streams of crimson started leaking from the ivory structure, running down its white surface. It was coming from the pillow that was resting upon the rostrum, from the crystal that lay there in a mass of blood pouring out of it. Quickly, the silent streams of red fell down the pale surface as he watched, petrified in all of his fear. He wanted to close his eyes so badly, but something inside of him made him watch this scene, and the pain of seeing this was driving him insane. Worse still was the silence, which sent earthquakes up and down his spine.

I can't take this! It's too much!

His silent pleas for mercy went unheard as the nightmare continued to rupture the barriers of his sanity, and the words "too much" took on new meaning. As soon as the blood of the crystal touched the floor, Cecil's ears were filled with the screams of every man, woman, and child that had lost more than just a precious relic that day. Men howling as they're lives were taken viciously from them in a swift second, women screaming as their husbands fell to their knees in a wallow of their own blood, and children crying as their fathers lay lifeless on cold crystal tiles. Pain of an unimaginable magnitude coursed through his head, through his veins, and he felt as though he would burst open in a fit of spontaneous combustion.

He had managed to close his eyes for only a moment as the sudden onslaught of noise had hit him, but they were forced open once more, and the sight was more than he could bear. All around him were the bodies of those slain there in the chamber, and the relatives of those men and women were standing over them, weeping over their family, torn so ruthlessly heartless. Cecil didn't even have the strength to keep himself upright, and his legs gave out from beneath him. His knees hit with a hard crash on the tiles, but the pain was so insignificant to what he was feeling, what he was absorbing from this nightmare. He hadn't noticed it, but as he turned his eyes to the floor in hopes of escaping a bit of the pain, he saw that he was kneeling in a scarlet lake that began to spread like wildfire across the crystal floor. Soon the entire room was engulfed in a shade of dark red, as the walls mirrored the blood that consumed the floor. Everyone had vanished, and he was once again left alone with all of his pain in silence, his legs soaked with the lives of all those who had died. If he had the strength to let his tears go he would send them raging down his cheeks, but he was too stricken with an emptiness he had never felt before.

Why?

The question had never seemed so distant and worthless as it did in that moment. This scene was becoming all too real, and it was digging deeper into his mind with every passing second. He could feel the blood still warm on his shins, as though the deaths of these people were still fresh on his conscience. Even worse, he began to feel the warmth running down his arms, down his back, and down his throat. He couldn't help but to look at his arms, and he reeled back at the sight of blood pouring down his skin. He soon realized that this was not his own, but that of those who had been murdered, and he could feel them tearing at every fiber of his being. They wanted to kill him, to drown him in their suffering, and he soon tasted their death as the blood ran down his forehead and into his mouth agape. The stale acid stung every bud of his tongue and ran hot down his throat, choking him. He couldn't breathe, and he began to struggle as his blood soaked hands reached around his neck to try and make himself take in the air around him. But it was to no avail, as the blood was thick in his lungs and sealed them shut, giving only enough wind to have his last words.

Please, just make it--

"Stop!!" Cecil's last word came flying from his dry throat with a rough scratch as he came out of his sleep sitting upright, the sheets disheveled about the bed. He had finally torn himself from that nightmare, but he had no trouble remembering every bit of it. The blood, the screams, the taste of all of their pain and agony. He could still taste it as he took a deep swallow to take the lump in his throat back down into his stomach. His fingers grazed his lips and they soon found the warmth coming from a small gash in the soft flesh. He had bitten his lower lip sometime during his dream; no doubt trying to bite back all of the thoughts of letting his screams erupt from within. He couldn't stand the taste, but he sucked in his lip and took it, in spite of his own mind.

His face was burning hot as his hands ran down the skin, moist in all the sweat that leaked down his forehead. He threw what was left of the sheets aside and pulled his legs over the bed, dropping his feet harshly on the floor. This time he could feel the stinging cold as the soles of his feet rested on the stone. It sent a run of discomfort through him, but he took it all, as if to punish himself for everything, as if it would ever be enough. He slowly managed to pull himself from the soft mattress, reluctant to leave the comfort of the warm cushion. As he finally was able to hold himself upright, his legs still feeling a little shaky, he began to make his way across the dim lit bedchamber. His shadow went from a small dwarf of a man, to a looming giant that stretched from the floor to across the ceiling, only to shrink once again as he made his way past the candle sitting peacefully on the table. He didn't even bother to reach for it, his mind only focused on making his way to the washbowl across the room, to have that refreshing cold on his skin.

His reflection in the dark mirror was barely visible as the candlelight struggled to reach him, but it didn't matter to him, for the darkness suited him so much better. He welcomed the man in the mirror as his true self showing through the face he wore so well. It was rather frightening to notice such a thing, but he found it easier to believe it than to deny it.

"This is what I am..." his voice fell weak to the wind, the cloth undergarments he wore leaving his skin rather unprotected to the light breeze flowing in through the window. The candlelight fluttered a bit, casting streaks of light across his face, caught in blue reflections on his eyes. His hands reached for the carafe, tilting it over the washbowl to fill it with the water needed. He quickly laid it back down as he was satisfied with what filled the bowl, and his hands dove freely into the water's tender cold. Cupping a small pool of it in his hands, he lifted it up as his face fell to meet it. The water splashed over his skin and sprayed all about the table and on the floor, being no concern of his that he had been so careless. He just stood there over the rippled waters for a moment, taking in the chill of the rolling drops charging down his face. He was beginning to remember how he had been standing there just like this the morning before, staring down into his own quivering reflection. And just as he did before, he once more looked into the mirror and gazed upon that frail man on the other side of the glass.

"I am a Dark Knight. A Knight held under the Order of the Dark Sword. By its grace, and the power vested in His Majesty, I am deified above all other knights within the kingdom of Baron. It is my duty to serve and protect my King, no matter the cost of others beneath him, including myself. My judgments are second to..." Cecil trailed off at those last words, as if coming to some painful revelation that struck his words down before they could even be voiced. He knew that his judgments came second to those of the King, but Cecil didn't even feel like he could believe such a thing anymore. He had already broken that promise to the King, and it didn't even sound right to say it, though he tried to choke it out with what strength he had left, "...second to..."

Those words were beating upon his head with a relentless fervor, and they echoed as though his mind was a hollow canyon. He could still feel the pain of his nightmares taking their toll as they ran circles around his mind, and a swift vision came to him as he shut his eyes tight in an attempt to seal it away. He saw the Elder's eyes, those eyes that begged for him to show mercy, to go no further in his conquest over the Mysidian village. Those eyes burned in the back of his eyelids, and he couldn't bear to watch it anymore, his eyes opening wide once more to the darkness that stretched so perfectly across his features. He could see the soft glow in his eyes as the tears welled up, prepared to overflow down his face at any moment. He fought them back with every bit of strength he could've possibly found in his empty shell, and it was almost as painful to realize that he was so weak. But he would not give in, for he was a Knight of Baron, and he would never fall to such emotions as these that haunted him so mercilessly.

"I am a Dark Knight. A Knight held under..." he stopped again, feeling the tears built up against the dam, and he could feel it beginning to crack, "I am a Dark Knight..." the first tear managed to spill over the edge, and it was a surprising realization he felt as it traveled slowly down his cheek, "I am..." another tear, his voice falling shorter every time, and it was so hard for him to even say what he wanted, so he said what he needed to instead, "...nothing."

That was it; he had given in to the pain, to the nightmare...to himself. He couldn't even bear to look at himself anymore as the silent streams left glowing streaks down his face. It brought so much shame to him to see his weaknesses showing through so easily, but it was all he could do to keep him from breaking down completely. But that wasn't good enough for him, and he still felt as though he had just let everything go, letting not only himself down, but letting down everyone he knew in some way. His pain was beginning to fade away with the tears flowing freely now, but in its place rose the heat of his anger as his face flushed a fiery red.

"I am nothing!"

His fist rose quickly before falling heavily back down onto the small table, the force of the blow sending the carafe into a tumble. As it tipped over, the water began to spill onto the floor, splashing loud as it spread wildly across the stone. He could feel it on his feet as it puddled around the table, rogue droplets safely landing on the skin. The carafe began to roll towards the corner of the table, threatening to fall, but Cecil didn't even care, and if he did he would've pushed it over the edge himself. But the slender bottle stopped just on the corner, taunting him, begging for him to give it a final push to its dissolution. He turned away from the whole scene, leaving the carafe to decide its own fate, and he made his way back across the room, across the candle's fearless flame. There he sat upon the feather-filled mattress that had been waiting so patiently for him. The carafe teetered a bit on the edge before moving slightly away from the corner, resting peacefully on its side upon the table, a few drops of water still dripping from its gaping mouth.

"How could I have let this happen?" he whispered to an illusionary conscience that he thought might be able to answer him. But it only made him realize that his conscience was just as weak as he, for it had never made any true efforts to stop him, "Now...Mysidia's crystal...was it so necessary for us to tear it from them with our swords? Was their blood the only acceptable price for our orders?"

Cecil's undeniable exhaustion had led him to the point of talking to himself, as if to somehow better understand his thoughts. He was simply too tired to think. All the nagging thoughts of this whole mission, the King's orders, and on top of all that His Majesty's outrageous reaction would not easily be peeled from his brain. They would not let go as they hung tight with claws that scraped across the barren plains of his mind. He finally made himself get back into his bed, slipping under the sheets once more, although not feeling the same warmth as he had before. He could feel damp spots placed erratically about the cloth, the smell of his sweat still lingering a bit as it evaporated into the chill of the night. There he laid, unbearably broken, mind withering away slowly as the monsters inside torn him to pieces. These monsters, the questions that ravaged him, continued to fester, and he only wanted the answers, but of course none even dared to present themselves. With no way to stop them, the questions effortlessly poured in like a leaky faucet, and no matter how hard he turned the knob, it just kept dripping. This was the mind of this Dark Knight, and the water kept drip, drip, dripping in the pool of his mind, the ripples feeling like earthquakes, monsoons, tsunamis, and anything else that he could possibly think of. He closed his eyes as though to maybe find a way to force these monsters away, but it only allowed him to focus on the pain that much more, and it stung like hell all over. The only comfort he could think of was her voice, which called softly to him in that dark passage he had walked earlier.

Cecil...

It sounded so peaceful, so serene, and he wanted to hold it close to him as though it were a child he would fear losing some day. The sound of her voice brought almost as much pleasure to him as seeing her, and he somehow managed to send his monsters away with it, as if the voice was actually upon him, surrounding him. That's the way it felt, but he knew it was just a memory, just his mind trying it's best to defend against the demons that were currently trying to invade it. The voice echoed down the dark corridors of his soul, and he could still feel them, even after they had trailed off into a whisper.

Cecil...

There it was again, although a bit louder than before, feeling strangely closer than before. It was almost as if she were actually here with him, bearing his pain and sorrow at his side. He wanted to reach out into the emptiness in hopes that perhaps he would find her hand to hold on to. But for some reason his mind would not allow it, keeping him locked up to only have her voice to comfort him. That was all he really needed anyway.

Cecil!

It was so close, as though she was but a few feet away, and it rang with incredible splendor through him. He wanted to open his eyes and look around as though she might actually be here, for he could almost smell the sweet perfume she always wore. He loved that scent, and it stood the hairs of his nose on end as it filled his nostrils so soft. It had become more than just an illusion to his mind, and he knew she was there, standing over him as his guardian angel.

"Cecil. Are you awake?" she questioned quietly creeping towards his bed across the candlelight. Cecil opened his eyes to the embodiment of perfection gliding across his bedchamber, glowing amorously. She noticed his eyes gazing over her as she stepped closer, the light catching a reflection in the endless oceans, "Oh, Cecil. I hope I didn't disturb you."

"No..." was all that he could manage from his dry desert of a throat. But the fact that it hurt to speak a word didn't even compare to the sheer emotion that her voice brought out of him. The sound was so pure that it made him want to stop thinking altogether and just listen. She approached gracefully, and her face came together before him in a puzzle of beauty. Her eyes were so wondrous, so gentle, and it took everything he had to turn away from it, to keep her from seeing through him this one time. He spoke now to the cold stone wall at his bedside, Rosa coming to kneel next to him, "...of course not. I was just thinking."

"Thinking about what?" she lightly pried at the jumbled mess of emotions lying on the bed before her. She reached a gentle hand out to stroke a stray strand of darkened silver hair from his cheek, tickling his ear as she reeled it in. It caused waves of relaxation to wash over him, and nearly brought his eyes around with it, but he still had a look of pain stretched over his features. He couldn't possibly let her see how broken he was. She still pursued, though unaware just what she was pursuing, "Is everything okay?"

"No. It's nothing," Cecil replied, still facing the wall. Though the wall surely could see every bit of his struggle, he knew that Rosa could still feel it, seeing it as though the wall was but a mirror for her. Her hand was still running through his hair, delicately, and he wondered if she truly felt him, "I'm fine."

"Then please...don't look away."

Her voice was so sweet, so dulcet as it fell upon his ears that it pulled at his heart. It made him want to pour it out to her, and tell her everything as though she would willingly carry it all for him. Though his mind begged him not to, his heart commanded his body to its will and he turned his eyes away from the lonely grey to meet her. She had the most wonderful eyes a man could ever stare into, those beautiful hazel eyes that caught the candle light so perfect. She looked angelic.

"What's wrong?" she asked with worried eyes and words alike, her hand soothingly resting upon his newly exposed cheek. She immediately saw through him, seeing the tears he had shed, seeing the immeasurable pain and guilt that was put into each one of them. Cecil could see it in her face that she had penetrated every wall he had put up for her, and he had completely opened up without ever saying a word, "What happened?"

"In Mysidia..." Cecil began his confession, though taking a pause as if to make sure he was ready. But he knew someone had to know, someone that would surely understand why this was so hard on him. Who better to open up to than the one he loved, "I watched innocent lives fall to our swords today, and I did nothing. I just as well killed them myself. Worse still, I robbed them of the only thing they held sacred."

"Oh God, Cecil. I'm sorry"

"Please, save your apologies for those who died in Mysidia," Cecil responded rather coldly, though he truly didn't mean for the words to come out that way. He could only hope that she knew that, and by the look in her eyes he could tell that she did. She gazed upon him with every bit of sympathy she could find in her heart, and it was more than enough for Cecil as he sat up, positioning himself to face her and continue his exposition with that strength she always gave him, "They are such simple people, farmers and magicians...a commune. They have had little to worry about in the world until now."

"Cecil, it's okay. It's not your fault." she tried to make him realize this as she reached her hands for his, taking them into her warm grasp. It felt wonderful, but along with this bliss came the fall of his emotional barriers and he was forced to close his eyes from her for a moment. He could feel her fingers intertwine with his own, feeding him the strength to go on, and he bit back every tear that threatened to show itself upon his face.

"I stole their crystal, the one thing that meant everything to everyone in that town. All for what?" Cecil's eyes tumbled open with his question as though she might be hiding the answer somewhere within. But knew she didn't have the answers. No one ever did. He simply felt at ease to ask her, just relieving the stress from his mind overflowing, "Are we justified to do something like this just because we are from the 'mighty' kingdom of Baron? Does the King's command resonate that far and wide over the world? I fail to see how something like this could ever be exonerated."

"Cecil, I understand what you're going through, but--"

"Do you?" Cecil came back quickly, and to his own surprise rather fiercely. He immediately changed his tone from that quick snap to something less harsh, "Do you really understand what has happened today? The King is insane, Rosa. Our orders were to take this crystal by force, no negotiations, no questions, no hostile opposition left behind. We were ordered to slaughter innocent people for a bauble, a worthless artifact."

"Listen Cecil, there are always going to be things in life that you don't want to do. I'm sure His Majesty had his reasons."

"I just don't know anymore, Rosa," Cecil conceded as he felt his head fall along with the lids falling over his eyes. He had not even the strength to keep his head up anymore, even with Rosa's warmth giving him life through his hands. No longer could he hold himself up with his heart, for it was fighting a losing battle with his mind, "It's as if my heart has become as dark as my armor."

"You're not like that," Rosa declared, her hands leaving his to hold his lonely face. She guided his eyes up to hers, forcing him to stare into her commanding gaze. She looked worried and annoyed at the same time, the way she sometimes looked when she picked up one of her attitudes she was so well known for. But even with the light of only a single candle barely keeping the room alive from darkness, he could see that she was trying to give him her love. If only he had it in his heart to respond, he would, "I know you too well, and this just doesn't sound like you."

"It just isn't the same as it used to be," Cecil tried to explain to her hungry eyes, her hands warm on his face as she held his head up for him. Those hands eventually trailed back behind his ears, through the strained silk of his hair, and down his neck to rest upon his shoulders. He kept his eyes locked on her, as though she might vanish into thin air if he happened to lose sight of her again, "When I first took command of the Red Wings it was nothing like this. We helped others in need, not rob them for our own selfish profits. We were peacekeepers, not the King's call for a war."

"You're not starting a war, Cecil," Rosa took advantage of that slight exaggeration that slipped from Cecil's mouth, "I don't know what the King wants, but I'm sure he's not trying to start another war. We learned from that mistake a long time ago, and I hear Eblana still will not accept our offers to help them rebuild their kingdom. His Majesty was crushed by the results of that war; you know that better than anyone."

"I'm not sure if he's the same man he was twenty years ago," Cecil admitted, though he knew the King so well, but he had seen something, some change in His Majesty's face upon his return; kneeling before him at the throne, staring into his dark, powerful eyes, and seeing something completely different in his place. It wasn't the same as it used to be, when the King would offer a bold smile and a shake of the hand for a mission well done. These realizations were quickly beginning to dawn on him, now that he had a clear head to think about it, "The King has changed a great deal over the years, and more so I believe in recent weeks. But it's not just him, it's me. The fact that I would ever follow such orders puts me to shame."

"Don't say such things, Cecil," Rosa tried to snap some sense into him as she lightly squeezed his shoulders, assuring him that she was still here with him. Though his eyes were upon her, he looked as if he were looking through her, looking for something beyond this room, into the outside air. She wanted him to find whatever it was he was looking for, but she had to have his attention. She once more picked up his hands, this time standing up before him and lifted his arms with her. He followed her lead and stood up, and her arms fell around his neck tightly as she buried her face in his strong chest. He soon had his arms around her waist, taking in the heavenly warmth from her body. It was then that he realized she was wearing practically nothing, aside from her robes. Unfortunately, he knew he would have to send her home tonight, for he simply had to be alone with his mind. He didn't want any of his tormented soul mixing with hers, which shined bright with purity. He held her close, and he felt her squeezing even tighter to him, as though they could possibly become one in the same body. She mumbled muffled words into the cloth garment covering his chest, "Don't ever think you're less of a person just because of something like this. You're too strong for that."

"Rosa, I'm just a dark knight," he explained, though he knew she wouldn't want to hear such a thing. He could feel her grip loosening a bit, as though she was about to let go. Though he never wanted her to leave, he actually felt it to be for the best...just this once, "I'm just a pawn for His Majesty to use at his whim...nothing more."

It came as a bit of a shock, but the more he said it the more realistic it seemed to him. He started to see what he had become. What the King had made him. He didn't want to believe it, but that's what he came to realize after all of this. His words hit him harder than anyone would know, but they hit Rosa with just as much trouble. She would never believe what he had said. She was simply too stubborn. She let her arms unravel from around his neck to come to rest on his shoulders, pushing her head away to where she could look him in the eye, and give him the eye of death. She wasn't about ready to let this go, and he could see it as the flame of the candle behind her gave off a devilish glare in her wake.

"The Cecil I know would never whimper like that," Rosa pointed out rather scornfully, as if to straighten him out of a tantrum he was going through, "Not the Cecil I love."

That caught his attention and he looked at her with a shy stroke of awe as she gazed deeply into his eyes. It was as if she were searching for something, perhaps the Cecil she once knew. He immediately felt ashamed that he had said such things to her, especially knowing that she would not have it. He found so many emotions in her hazel eyes, swirling in such a beautiful mixture, though giving off an aura of something lost. He didn't want to think that she had lost him, for that would be the last thing to ever happen. She meant more to him than anything, and it would be his dying day before she ever lost him.

"I'm sorry, Rosa. I..." Cecil couldn't finish as he felt her squeezing his shoulders again, as though she wanted him to stop. He reached for her hands and led them down to the empty space between them, holding her dear tender skin ever so softly, "I don't mean to lay all of this on you. You'll understand if I tell you that it'd be better for you to go home tonight? I've got too much on my mind after all that has happened. Even more so, I've got another mission to worry about tomorrow morning."

"So soon? Where on earth are you going?" she asked, most obviously worried about such an abrupt turn of events. Cecil usually was allowed a week of leave before setting off again for another mission.

"Kain and I are heading to Mist tomorrow morning," Cecil explained, though leaving out details that she probably wouldn't care to know anyway. She'd be even more worried if she knew he was out slaying some crazy "Phantom Beasts" in the Mist Valley.

"Well you two had better be careful, and don't let Kain get you into any trouble."

"Don't worry," Cecil replied with a smile, laughing inside at her last words, for she knew Kain would never cause trouble. It was more often than not that Cecil was the one causing trouble around the kingdom, and Kain just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, "I'll be fine."

"I know you'll be fine, but please be careful. For my sake."

"I will. You have my word."

Her arms were instantly tied around his waist, her face dug deep into his warm body. They held each other tight for a moment, a moment that felt like an eternity, and there they stood in the pale candlelight. They both shared the same faint glow, softly illuminated against shadowed grey stone. She could feel his heart beating steady through his ribs, and it nearly lulled her to sleep in his arms. He basked in her enlightening energy, and he felt more alive than he had all day, having this one moment to take in all of her love. He wondered if he would ever let go, if he ever wanted to let go, and it felt as though it would never happen. She meant so much to him, and he meant so much to her. They were a perfect union held together by pure love, and it was something neither of them had come to fully recognize. All they knew was that there was love here, and that was something they would never leave behind..

"I love you." she whispered to the air.

"I love you, too."


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Jeez, another signature...i can't do this anymore, just kill me already!