Hunter || Part I: Penance (01)

[first_seventhe]

Hunter, Chapter 01
Part I: Penance (01)

Authors: first_seventhe and rosencrantz (Sev and Enkida)
Fandom: FFIV
Characters: Kain, Rydia, Edge, Cast
Rating: M / R

Summary: Heroes aren't always automatically granted a happily ever after... sometimes, winning is only the start of the battle. Kain, Rydia, Edge and the aftermath of victory.

If travel is searching
     And home what's been found
     I'm not stopping -
     I'm going hunting.
                  - Björk, "Hunter"

fanfiction.net link



Part I: Penance (1)

A swell of loud, lively music drifted slowly across the cool evening air. The sounds of loud conversation and laughter created a low, pleasant hum which flooded the darkened courtyard of Castle Baron. A solitary figure tilted its head, listening to the hubbub created by the celebrants with the ghost of a smile on his face. He turned away from the light spilling out of the open doors and stared out instead over the battlements at the silent forests beyond.

"Kain! There you are!" There was a soft rustling of robes, and the faintest whiff of a subtle perfume carried on the air. Roses, as always - she took after her namesake, in more ways than one. He turned to face her, pale and fragile against the dark castle. A delicate flower in a garden of stone; he felt she didn't belong there. She was too beautiful to be trapped in such a harsh, unyielding cage; too vibrant to flourish under the restrictions of courtly love and propriety.

"Rosa," he greeted her quietly. Her head tilted as she looked him over, the hint of a frown marring her otherwise perfect features.

"You're still in your armour. For heaven's sake, you haven't even removed your helmet, Kain! Won't you relax just this once and join us inside?" She sighed heavily as he remained motionless, crossing her arms and slowly approaching him. "You're not being fair to Cecil, you know," she chided him softly. "This is your victory just as much as it is his. He already lost one brother."

Kain frowned and finally looked away from her. "I'm not his brother," he said curtly. Then he grimaced. No - she was right, of course. The way he was treating Cecil was unfair. It was no fault of the paladin that his life was charmed; that he had not only an ancient prophecy at his side, but also this beautiful flower. Even without looking, he was hyperaware of her presence by his side, her every movement, even the subtle motion of her golden curls in the evening breeze. He stiffened when he felt her tiny, delicate hands snake around his arm, drawing him close. Unheeding of the hard, uncomfortable metal of his Dragoon armour, she leaned against his shoulder and closed her eyes. He tried to ignore the weight of her head and focus on the moon overhead instead. It had lost much of its lustre, now that he had seen it up close. Just another one of the many memories he wished to be free of.

"Come inside," Rosa was saying, tugging at his arm gently. "We all miss you."

He almost snorted loudly at that. "Somehow I doubt that, Rosa." Cecil would have noticed his absence, to be sure. But Kain didn't want to see Cecil, the man of the hour, Baron's own triumphant hero. The light Cecil cast about himself only lengthened Kain's own shadows; Rosa, with her own naive hopes and dreams, could never understand that. And what of the others? The prince of Eblan, if not too busy chasing after the multitude of skirts swirling around the ballroom floor, would undoubtedly be mooning over their young, green-haired Caller. Their banter was amusing to watch, he had to admit; for being nearly ten years her senior, the cocky ninja never did seem to be able to show up the smart-mouthed Summoner. Still, he was certain that neither of them would truly lament over his absence; he was, after all, known best to both as a manipulative turncoat.

She was pulling at his arm again, this time more insistently. "Won't you come inside? For me?"

Kain felt himself stiffening. Why didn't she see? He did everything for her. He would have brought down the moon itself, had she but asked. But nothing he did was good enough. He wasn't a hero, like Cecil. He was, and would always be, nothing more than a shadow - an echo of what could have been. Those echoes were whispering through his mind now, as he stared at Rosa, who was looking towards him with a beseeching expression. He felt his heart constrict painfully. "Why?" he asked roughly.

Rosa blushed prettily and looked down. Her feet slowed, and she broke her gaze away with a fleeting look of discomfort. "It's... well - Cecil and I, we've been talking, and -"

Kain slowed to a stop, feeling a sudden coldness overtake him. No. It can't be. He felt numb, even though he knew what she would say next; it was no surprise, really, though some part of him was still reeling in shock and hurt.

"He wants to announce the engagement tonight. I know," she added in a rush, her face turning a brilliant, lovely, damnable shade of pink. "He's been courting me for ages, but after everything that's happened..." She trailed off, a distracted, wistful smile on her face. Her fingers, Kain noticed, were still tightly wound around his arm. "We don't want to wait any longer," she continued. "And Baron will need a Queen. We'll be wed at the coronation." She paused, turning to look at him once more. "I hope you'll be there." Her eyes were shining more brightly than the stars above, and oh, how it ached just to watch her.

He found his voice again, somehow, digging past the sickening, churning sensation that was burning through his chest. He knew he was pale, and was thankful that the helmet hid his features from Rosa's observant eyes; he felt as though he were going to vomit. "My lady," he managed to say, though his voice was rough.

The sudden formality caught her off guard, and her fingers slipped from his arm, for which he was grateful. "Kain?" She sounded distant, but already he could hear the beginnings of the hurt under the question. She wasn't that naive; she, too, knew what he would say, what he had to do, didn't she? Did she not know how he felt? Or did she deliberately ignore his feelings? Nay, Rosa was not that cruel - but how, then, could she be this blind?

"Go back to the others," he told her gently. When she remained still, he added to it: "I'm sure you will be very happy together."

She wavered in a pool of warm light spilling in from the doorway, uncertain, and he turned away, unable to look at her any longer. "Return to Cecil," he told her brusquely.

"Kain, I -" she began softly, hesitating when she saw him flinch. "... I'll see you inside," she finished quietly. Then, with another rustle of silk, she was gone.

He let out a soft sigh of relief, which morphed into a humourless, anguished bark. His rose was to be married, to Cecil of course. Always Cecil. His jaw clenched, and for a few moments, he was unable to move at all. When he finally regained control of himself, he turned and strode purposefully towards the castle. Not, however, towards the ballroom - rather, to the darkened corridors which led to the private chambers. He would have to work swiftly, before his absence was noticed. Though he had been reluctant before, now returning to the others was completely out of the question. Too much had passed between them all; he was already raw and exposed. And, Kain knew, Cecil would see. The paladin, his best friend, would take one look at him, helmet or not, and understand. Cecil might even call off the wedding, for the sake of words like honour and friendship - words which were wasted on someone as undeserving of them as himself. No, there was but one solution - Rosa, of course, would weep; he knew this. But she would have Cecil to lean on, and Cecil would understand - that sometimes, sacrifices were necessary, for the greater good.

One set of eyes watched Kain's departure; after a few moments, a robed figure separated itself from the shadows of the doorway and quietly trailed after him. The figure came to a stop in one of the castle's many, long hallways; a door had been flung open, and the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor. Moments later, Kain burst through the doorway, lance in hand, and pulled up short as he nearly rammed into the observer.

"Minh," Kain observed, taking a step back. Though his eyes were not visible, the elder could tell he had surprised the knight. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the celebration?"

Minh shrugged, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I imagine Palom is getting into all manner of mischief without me to scold him." He let out a short laugh at the thought. "Though I suppose Porom is doing her best to keep him from destroying the castle completely." He gave Kain a gentle smile. "The children should be allowed to enjoy themselves at a time like this. They hardly need my supervision at the moment... there will be time enough for that in Mysidia." His tone became sharper. "Tell me, Kain Highwind. Why do you deny yourself the same? You are a hero among us. You should accept your lauds."

The line of Kain's mouth tightened and dropped into a fierce frown. "I am no hero," he bit out sourly.

"We all have our moments of weakness," Minh replied. "But you have overcome yours. You are free! Why not join the rest of us and celebrate? It is not every evening that the world is saved and ancient prophecies are filled!"

Kain grimaced and swore under his breath. The Elder of Mysidia meant well, he knew, but his words were simply salt being rubbed into an already stinging wound. "I'm leaving. Don't try to stop me," he added abruptly, noting the older man's expression of surprise sourly. "And - don't tell the others yet, if you will. I don't wish to ruin this evening's... pleasantries."

He pushed past Minh and hurried down the dark hallway, giving a silent groan of annoyance as he heard the pattering footsteps of the Elder struggling to keep up with his quick stride.

"Kain! Wait!" More loud huffing and scuffling sounded as Kain studiously ignored him and picked up his pace. "Young man, stop this instant!" the Elder said loudly, his voice booming off the walls. Kain spun around, his mouth drawn as he observed the now-sweating man pull up to him, panting heavily.

"Not to be disrespectful, sir, but what exactly is it that you want of me?" Polite as it sounded, Kain's tone was chilling, in response to Minh's own sharp outcry. He was no student to be scolded for disobeying a mentor's instructions. The grip on his lance tightened fractionally as the Elder sighed at him.

"Kain. All I ask is that you allow me to walk with you. I will not attempt to hinder your path, but for the love of the Light, slow down! These old bones aren't as fast as they used to be," he added with a slight grimace, and Kain felt a pang of guilt stab at him.

How many of Elder Minh's aches and pains had resulted from Baron's attack on Mysidia? He slowed his step and allowed Minh to walk abreast of him as they approached the small township surrounding the Castle proper. It felt as though Minh was waiting for an explanation; despite his protest of being more than a simple delinquent student, a familiar sense of shame and responsibility filled him. "I mean to leave," he said suddenly, breaking the silence that had descended. "I don't belong here."

"You don't wish to remain at Cecil's side, serving as his most loyal knight?" Minh observed mildly, and once again Kain couldn't hide his flinch.

"I haven't earned that right," he said brusquely. They pulled to a stop by the small pond, listening to the whisper of the water-rushes swaying in the wind. Kain looked down into the water, seeing his own reflection ripple and sway. His armour gleamed darkly, almost black; the pointed spikes of his helmet made him look fearsome and demonic, much like the monsters his Knights were charged to hunt. Strange, how he had thought its appearance so noble before, so like the dragons they once rode. Now, it was nothing more than twisted metal, warping his features under cold steel and masking his eyes. His reflection mocked him; pride goeth before a fall, oh mighty Dragoon. "I don't deserve Cecil's forgiveness."

Another, smaller part of him twisted and curled in his breast; I don't want Cecil's forgiveness, the darkness within himself spat angrily. What I want is her. He shuddered and closed his eyes, trying to forget his own jealousy, and failing miserably.

"Hmm," Minh sighed beside him. "So I see."

Kain looked up in surprise; of all the sentiments the old man could have expressed, that was hardly what he had been expecting. A denial, perhaps a scolding or at the least a rebuttal of the sentiment. At the very least, a protest to his departure. He wondered, briefly, if his guilt made him so transparent.

"You are searching for absolution, the type which your friends can't give to you." Minh chuckled as Kain started next to him. "Young man," the elder said placidly, "I have seen many people journey to Mysidia seeking forgiveness. You are hardly the first," he noted, and Kain couldn't help but feel a stab of anger as he belatedly realized that Cecil had beat him in this, too.

"If I may make a suggestion," Minh continued blithely. "Most people who seek answers find them at the summit of Mount Ordeals. The Light resides there, accepting pilgrims who brave the journey. They say it is an experience which can change lives." He paused. "They do not lie."

Kain frowned to himself. It had seemed like the only solution at the time, to pack up and leave Baron as quickly as possible. But, he realized, he didn't have a goal, not even the faintest idea of where he was running to. Away had seemed a good enough answer at the time. "This... Mount Ordeals," Kain repeated slowly. "Where might I find it?"

"Travel to Mysidia along the Serpent Road," Minh replied. "Bear east from there, into the forests. It is said, the mountain itself will find the pilgrim in need."

"East of Mysidia," Kain repeated. Minh offered no further explanation, and Kain sighed silently to himself, glancing back at his reflection. They weren't the most exact of directions, which was hardly comforting; Mysidia was much less settled than the holdings of Baron. The forests surrounding the small town were thick and wild, teeming with monsters. Any journey into them would be difficult enough; he wondered what he could hope to accomplish undertaking the task alone. A swift death, perhaps. And while Kain was looking for escape, he wasn't quite prepared to die on a fool's quest for the impossible.

Minh must have read some of this in his face, somehow, for the sage said gently: "If you stop in the Tower of Wishes in Mysidia and speak my name, two of the young mages will be given to accompany you to the mountain's summit."

Kain looked up again at this in sudden shock. His pride flared at the insult: he was no babe, to be watched by fledgling mages as he climbed a mystic mountain. Had he not trained with dragons as a child? Had he not accompanied Cecil to the moon? "With all due respect," he said stiffly. "This is my voyage, and I make it alone."

"It is tradition, Kain. Not even Cecil made the pilgrimage without help," Minh replied, unfazed.

Kain was silent for a moment. The offer of absolution, of potential forgiveness, lay before him. Yet he could not go that route like Cecil, flanked with young, pure children and trumpeted by Mysidia. He would have to complete the journey as Kain Highwind: dark, defeated, and utterly alone. "You give only one more reason why I must," he said finally.

"Young man," Minh said suddenly, turning to face Kain. "I don't know what you want. I do not think even you, yourself know. But I am certain of this - the Light can provide you with whatever it is that you need." He laid a rough, gnarled hand on Kain's armour-clad shoulder and smiled faintly. "Travel to Mysidia, and find your answers there." With that, he released Kain and turned away, moving back towards the festivities at the castle.

For a long while after, Kain sat by the water, staring at his reflection intently. It regarded him solemnly, providing no answers on its own. "To Mysidia it is," he finally concluded, rising to his feet.

.x.x.x.

"He's gone." Cecil's proclamation was met by a sharp cry of surprise as Rosa's hands flew over her mouth.

Rydia sighed and rolled her eyes, then winced painfully; whatever had been in that goblet Edge passed her last night, it certainly wasn't agreeing with her this morning. "I'm not really surprised," she said pointedly, though she still felt a twinge of guilt when Rosa paused long enough to send her a saddened glance. Rydia watched as Rosa turned back to Cecil, pestering him with questions. She herself didn't really see what Rosa was so confused about. It seemed fairly obvious to her why Kain had decided to leave them last night in the first place. Anyone with half a brain or at least open eyes could've seen that he was madly in love with Rosa. Even Cecil knew, for Bahamut's sake!

Rosa, however, apparently didn't. "Do you - do you think it's because of the wedding?" Her soft blue eyes clouded with tears once more, and another choked sob escaped her throat. "Oh, Cecil, I knew something was wrong when I spoke to him last night, but I didn't think -"

Edge leaned in towards her, his breath tickling Rydia's ear. "Seems like she doesn't think very much when it comes to that backstabber," he whispered loudly.

Rydia glanced warily at Cecil and Rosa, making sure their attentions were elsewhere, before she bothered to reply. "I know," she murmured in response, albeit more discreetly than the ninja. "What does she see in that guy, anyway?" It wasn't that Rydia didn't respect and love Rosa; if she had to be honest about it, the young blonde was the closest thing to a mother she could remember having - since her own mother had died, at least. The thought made her heart sink, as it always did, even with ten years and myriad experience behind her back. Well, at least she wouldn't be missing Kain's absence from their happy little family. If that spoony knight wanted some alone time to think about all the trouble he'd managed to stir up during the course of their adventures, that was his prerogative and she wasn't about to stop him. Rosa, however, appeared to be willing and more than ready to.

"We have to go after him!" she was saying to Cecil, her face streaked with fresh tears. "After everything we've been through... we can't just let him leave like this!"

Cecil sighed and wrapped his arms around Rosa, pulling her shuddering form in close. "It's not our choice to make, love. The only way we can help Kain now is to pray that his journey is a safe one." His grip tightened as the blond sobbed into his arms, and he dropped his lips against the crown of her head.

Rydia observed their quiet display of affection uneasily, trying not to notice how Edge's eyes had strayed towards her speculatively. Clearing her throat, she pushed herself out of her chair - swallowing a little when the room lurched, damn you Edge - and planted her hands on her hips. "Rosa, come on, stop crying. You're a grown-up now, and you made your choice." She gestured towards the end of the table. "You can't really blame anyone. You already have Cecil - it wouldn't be fair if you got to keep Kain, too."

"Rydia!" Cecil's retort was sharp, and she blinked, surprised at his sudden irritation. She heard Edge snickering quietly behind her and spun around, realizing she might have over-assumed in her haste.

"Wait," she hissed at Edge, trying to get him to stop laughing. "Is that how they do it up here? Can you - have two?" A thought struck her, and her eyes widened in surprise. "Can you have more than two?"

Edge only laughed harder. "Oh, Rydia," he said, his eyes twinkling merrily at her. "I like the way you think!"

"As if you would know anything about the way I think," Rydia replied archly. Then she pursed her lips and turned back towards Cecil, a little of the confusion she felt registering on her face. "No, really. Did I say something wrong? Is she really allowed to have both of you?" This earned her an astonishing hoot of laughter from Edge, which she promptly ignored.

Cecil frowned thoughtfully, and Rosa dabbed at her eyes as they both regarded the young Summoner with surprise. "You mean - ah - you really don't know...?" Cecil asked, observing her blank expression. "Rydia," he continued carefully, "Exactly how much do you understand of... relations... between men and women?"

Rydia scrunched up her nose in amusement. "Relax, Cecil. You don't have to give me the talk. Asura told me all about human sex. The man puts his thing into the woman's opening down there, right?" She made helpful, illustrative motions with her hands, slapping them loudly together as she spoke. Cecil and Rosa regarded her with twin expressions of shock, and she heard Edge choking noisily behind her. "Umm..." she said, suddenly blushing. Maybe she got it wrong? No, wait... Her face brightening, she clarified the problem. "Oh, right. The one in front. Not the one in the back."

Though she couldn't see him, Edge remained suspiciously silent, and Cecil and Rosa's expressions were quickly melting from shock straight into horror. Rydia frowned. She was sure she hadn't gotten it wrong this time. "Wait... you guys don't actually believe all that stuff about the birds and the bees, do you? Because I can tell you for sure, bees and birds just can't do that."

The silence which reigned in the small room was deafening. Eventually, Edge removed his boots from the table and let the chair he was rocking on hit the ground with a solid thunk. "Rydia, babe, I don't think Cecil was talking about sex," he hissed, coughing discreetly.

She turned to him, the frown on her face deepening. "Well, what else is there?" she asked, and by the look of surprise on Edge's face, she knew she had missed something terribly important.

"Love, Rydia." Cecil's voice was gentle, and she looked back to see him, still cradling Rosa in his arms. "There's love."

Rydia winced and dropped herself back into her seat, feeling mildly unsettled. Of course she knew about love. Edge was singing its praises to her on an almost daily basis. Especially how much of it she should have been making with him, although that was a completely separate matter. This thing - this love that Cecil was talking about, was what he and Rosa shared. It was also something she had thought that Kain and Rosa shared; at least, she would have guessed it from the long glances and soft touches the two traded so often. Cecil hadn't seemed to mind it - so she had assumed it was just another one of those human quirks, one of the many social mores she had somehow missed out on while growing up in the Land of Summons. It was one she had resigned herself to being unable to understand - monsters had no such qualms about whom to mate with. A single partner was chosen, tested, and if proven worthy, kept for life. Human notions of love were pleasant, abstract things, but also full of uncertainty and confusion, not to mention anguish. Monsters dealt with the whole problem much more simply - pick a good one, stick with him, and make plenty of offspring.

She'd thought humans were the same way too: Edward had certainly seemed desperately attached to his beloved Anna. But that didn't exactly explain what had happened between Kain, Cecil and Rosa. Trying to puzzle out why her friends were so surprised and upset was only intensifying the already bothersome headache that plagued her; shrugging, she pushed it aside for further examination later. Humans were so fickle - they always had to make their relationships difficult, didn't they?

"Well, sorry," Rydia said a little awkwardly. "My point is, you've chosen your mate, so there isn't really any reason for Kain to stick around, now is there? He's gone, and I can't really blame him." That was apparently also the wrong thing to say, as Rosa burst into a fresh set of tears.

"Rydia," Cecil chided her once more, though this time his voice was gentle. "You don't need to be so blunt. But..." And with this, he turned to the woman in his arms and lifted her chin gently. "She is right. Kain left us because he needs something that we - none of us - can give him. He needs to find his own peace. I'm sure he'll return to Baron when he's found it."

Edge snorted quietly, and once again Rydia felt herself silently agreeing. Kain loved to wallow in his own sorrows; she guessed the Dragoon would rather drown in them than be saved by any more of Rosa and Cecil's blinding love. And, she couldn't really blame him for leaving - if humans were monogamous, then she could imagine no worse torture than having to live, day in and out, by the side of the one you loved, knowing that she could never be yours. She groaned silently; understanding Kain was something she neither wanted nor hoped to do, ever. She found herself hoping that whatever journey he was making would take a really long time - something around forever was sounding nicer by the moment.

Rosa let another, quiet tear trickle down her cheek, and Rydia felt her lips twitch, suddenly feeling guilty. No, she didn't quite understand most human emotion, especially this fluffy-love stuff... but there was no reason for her to demand a lesson in the particulars while her friend was upset. Remembering something from their travels, Rydia moved hesitantly towards Rosa's chair, eventually putting her arms rather stiffly around the sniffling woman. To her surprise, Rosa almost melted into her, sobbing into her arm. It was a little awkward - this was her battle-gear, after all - but Cecil was giving her an encouraging smile, so Rydia assumed she was doing something right. After all, Rosa had held her like this when she was a child. If Rosa was going to act like a child, the least Rydia could do was attempt to be helpful.

I'm no good at this, Rydia thought as she jerkily patted Rosa on the head. Maybe it was a pity Kain had left them so soon after all.

.x.x.x.

The underbrush rustled ominously next to him, and Kain froze. The sweat beaded on his face, rolling down his neck and making its way underneath his armour where it tickled his skin irritatingly. While the journey to Mysidia had been relatively painless, thanks to the wonder of the Serpent Road, travelling out of the small township in the height of the summer heat was anything but.

He had left the town quickly, stopping only long enough to gather together the most basic of supplies, before setting out towards the east as Minh had directed. The people of the town had eyed him strangely; a tall, built warrior, clad in his unmistakable Dragoon armour. He was exotic, a curious and not entirely welcome sight among the pacifistic community of magicians. They remembered still the slaughter that Baron had wrought on their village - and while Cecil was largely forgiven, Kain assumed this forgiveness had been a direct result of his purification from Dark Knight into Paladin, wrought by the Light of Ordeals. Seeing as he was only now heading to the mountain himself, Kain understood that his own status was an unknown. The cold stares he had received from the few citizens he had managed to bump into made their sentiments clear enough. Not wishing to stay and test his theory, he had set out for the wilds of Mysidia with little more than the small collection of potions in his rucksack, and his good intentions.

The potions tended to be more reliable in times of need, he noted.

Still, as he crouched low against the ground pressing himself flat to the mossy earth and clutching his lance, he wished he had taken more note of the villagers' garb. There was a very non-magical reason that light cotton robes seemed to be the fashion of choice among the people, and he was learning it the hard way. Another trickle of sweat dripped down his back, and Kain shifted in his armour uncomfortably. The heat was stifling; never had he been more tempted to simply shuck the metal off and leave it behind.

A low keening emerged from the bushes to his right, and Kain was immediately reminded of why he couldn't afford to do just that. His muscles tensed as the two Cockatrices burst out of the foliage, squabbling noisily. He froze, glaring at the canopy overhead; Cockatrices rarely travelled alone. He was certain there was a larger Roc circling somewhere overhead, perhaps even a Zu. Certainly not an easy battle. It might have been, had he still been with the party. Edge, with his shuriken, could have dealt with the menace flying overhead - and should he fail, Rydia's powerful magic was certain not to miss. Cecil would have tackled one of the Cockatrices head-on, allowing him to focus on the other, and should a stray glare fall upon an unwary combatant, Rosa would be ready to rescue him or her with her soothing white magic -

He grit his teeth. It was no good, thinking of Rosa - not when she wasn't here to offer her support and assistance. None of them were. He would simply have to be careful. Making his decision, Kain hefted his weapon and bolted from the ground, charging at the first Cockatrice. Thankfully, the element of surprise was with him; the little buggers were much quicker than he was, but no amount of agility could prevent him from splitting the beast in twain when it wasn't prepared for his attack. He speared the lance through the first monster brutally, grimacing as a splatter of blood painted his armour red. The creature died with a quiet gurgle, but its companion immediately began squawking frantically, and Kain cursed under his breath. Rapidly, he ripped the lance out of the mangled remains of the bird and threw it towards his second opponent. It missed, and he swore again, leaping for his weapon and grabbing it out of the tree it quivered against. That damn monster was making so much noise, he was certain it had alerted not only whomever its flying companion was overhead, but everything else with a pulse within the general vicinity.

A shadow passed overhead, and Kain barely had time to spin and slash with his lance wildly before he heard the skittering of talons across his armour. It was a Zu after all - fuck - and it was quite easily one of the largest he had ever seen in his entire life. One of its claws hooked into his chin and left a deep, jagged cut across the exposed line of his jaw; he roared in pain.

"Bastard," he swore, adding several more colourful oaths as he saw the Cockatrice raise its crest of feathers and stare at him intently. It was foolhardy to ignore the angry Zu, which he was certain was diving at him once more; even so, it was certain suicide if he didn't stop the Cockatrice's stare from petrifying him where he stood. Already, he could feel his feet grow leaden, too heavy to lift off of the ground and jump to safety. He fumbled through the small pouch on his belt, his fingers closing around his final Soft - he could tell by the shape of the philtre - and then cursed as the Zu swooped in for a second attack, slamming into him directly and knocking the bottle cleanly out of his fingers. Again, the screech of claw against metal filled the air as the Zu scored his chest plate.

The situation was growing desperate; already, Kain knew his legs were too solid to move, though at least his arms were still free of the petrifaction magics. The remaining Cockatrice snapped at him, and he took the opportunity to plant his lance squarely through its head, pinning it to the ground at his feet in an exceedingly gruesome splatter. Another problem down, leaving only - the breath was knocked out of him as the Zu barrelled into his back, nearly bowling him over, had his legs been flexible enough to still bend.

Movement was becoming difficult; a fuzzy grey tint was clouding the corners of his vision, and his fingers were sluggish and slow to respond to his commands. Kain hated the feeling of being petrified; the process was just slow enough to allow a goodly amount of terror and self-reflection as one contemplated one's own mortality. Rosa, do you see what I am without you? The thought sickened him into action. In one last, desperate attempt, he reached into his pouch, his fingers closing around the first bottle he could find. There was no time to see what it was; he threw it blindly at himself, wincing as the glass shattered against his helmet and the contents of the mixture ran down his face in sticky streams.

The Zu screamed in fury overhead, and for a moment all Kain saw was white. Then, painfully, the blood was rushing back into his arms and legs, filling them with a curious prickling sensation and causing him to sway unsteadily on his feet. A Remedy. By Odin's beard, he had managed to find a Remedy. There was no time to congratulate himself over his good fortune, however; the Zu had noticed the sudden revival of its prey and was once again making a pass towards him.

Without hesitation, Kain threw himself into the sky. The jump wasn't as precise as his normal acrobatics, due most in part to his legs still feeling like jelly, but it served to thrust him out of the monster's path of attack. Spinning his lance around automatically, he angled it for the Zu and let gravity take over his fall. The air whistled past his ears, and Kain felt a grim smile play at his lips - this was what he lived for, why he became a Dragoon. Hurtling towards an opponent in an unstoppable duel, with death as the inevitable result - his grip around the lance tightened in anticipation.

The Zu must have sensed him coming, because it twisted at the last moment, attempting to escape the armoured, speeding missile which was now attacking it. Kain threw his weight forward, trying to shift his fall into the direction of the fleeing beast, and managed to strike the creature's wing. It screamed with a shrill, painful cry, Kain's lance embedded halfway through the powerful muscles - and took to the sky.

"Great maker!" Kain swore, adjusting his grip on the lance and planting his feet onto the bird's massive back. How the monstrosity beneath him could even still fly was beyond him, but he ignored his surprise and focused instead on working the weapon deeper into his prey. There was a wet, ripping sound, and then another inhuman scream filled the air as Kain yanked the tip free. A fountain of blood sprayed into the air, misting into the clouds below - and Kain's eyes widened.

By all that is holy, he cursed in shock as he noted the ground passing by distantly underneath him. Not even a Dragoon as skilled as himself could survive a fall from this height. He hadn't noticed the Zu ascending - given, he had been a little more preoccupied with trying to kill it - but as a dragonrider, he wasn't completely unaware of the mechanics of flight. The great, stupid beast must have flown over some kind of promontory; if he dared injure it fatally now, the descent would be deadly to both of them.

The dilemma was abruptly removed from his hands as the Zu began to falter, screaming all the while. The mangled remains of the wing he had nearly shorn off dangled uselessly at the creature's side; with a wrenching feeling in his gut, Kain grabbed for the flailing bird's neck as they plummeted towards the ground at a harrowing speed. The wind howled in his ears, and Kain was thankful for the helmet which protected his eyes from the sting. The Zu continued to flail wildly in his tight grasp in a futile attempt to free itself from its oncoming doom.

He thought quickly; to remain where he was, saddled on the bird, was not an option - the rocks below were quickly approaching, and the impact of their bodies against the unforgiving ground would most certainly be fatal, even should he manage to force the Zu's body to act as a makeshift cushion for the blow. There was only one chance - small as it was, it was still better than the certain death he faced otherwise.

Releasing the Zu, he scrambled to bring his knees up against the bird's back. Channelling all of his strength into the movement, he planted his feet into the creature and pushed with all his might. The Zu let out one final scream of panicked indignation, before plummeting head-first into the ground, raising a cloud of dust and rocks high into the air from the force of its impact. Kain was already airborne, whirling through the sky as he fumbled for balance, swinging his lance around wildly. Jumping from the back of a falling Zu certainly wasn't comparable to jumping off of the solid ground, but in the end, it had worked; he managed to orient himself on the descent and land, if bit unsteadily, on his feet a few paces away. He sank to one knee immediately, his heart pounding as he tried to catch his breath.

Alive, was the first cognizant word that filtered through his adrenaline-spiked thoughts. I am still alive. He let out a shaky breath and finally glanced up, then quickly looked away. Judging from the messy remains of the Zu, its death had been spectacular. That could have been me, he thought, and briefly shut his eyes. Could have, but wasn't. Steeling himself, he stood and took in his surroundings.

The Zu, Kain realized with surprise, had done him somewhat of a favour. From where they had landed, he could now make out the silhouette of a solitary mountain peak against the bright blue sky. It jutted high into the heavens, grand and majestic, strangely misplaced in the otherwise gently sloping valley. He hadn't realized how close he had drawn to it because of the tall, dense forest surrounding its base. It seemed almost out of place, standing practically alone as it did; a few scattered mountain ranges were visible in the far distance, but Kain knew as he looked up to the lone peak that he had found his destination. Mount Ordeals, the sacred trial of Mysidia. He frowned at the thought of being tested by some unnamed god - the Light, Minh had called it - but he shrugged off his discomfort easily.

Who was he to question the ways of the gods? He was but a mortal himself - and a fallen one, at that. Shouldering his lance, Kain took a final stock of himself, noticing sourly that his tussle with the Zu had resulted in the loss of most of his supplies. Hunting for dinner it was, then. He passed by the mangled, nearly unrecognizable corpse of the Zu and grimaced. But perhaps only a bit of smaller game tonight - certainly no poultry. Smiling grimly to himself, he set out for the base of the holy mountain with a firm step.

.x.x.x.

Kain stared at the rocky path ascending the mountain and nearly laughed. He was tired, dirty and covered in sweat; his armour was dented and worn from the many monster attacks he had weathered. Having used his last potion to heal the cut on his chin and missing his rucksack thanks to the unexpected flight, he was also almost entirely bereft of supplies. The last several days of travel had been comprised mainly of foraging for food, monster slaying and frequent rest. He'd thought once or twice about making this gruesome journey with two untested young mages from Mysidia, and the thought only confirmed his feelings that he'd been right to refuse the offer. What if the children had been injured in the battle with the Zu?

He paused, considering the trail he had carved - yes, carved, he noted grimly - through the forest. Surely, things would have been easier in a team. Kain knew he was a competent warrior; he had, after all, been the appointed leader of the Dragon Knights. But he also knew he was no strategist. It was an area Cecil excelled at; as graceful as Kain was with the lance in the heat of a battle, he was downright clumsy by comparison when it came to the planning and preparation of the actual skirmish. And so, he had reached Mount Ordeals in the only way he knew how - directly. At least, he thought wryly, his detrimental effect on the local wildlife populace would ensure that the path to the mountain would be safe for other pilgrims for weeks to come. And no Mysidian children had been lost in the effort.

But as he began the arduous hike up the pathway, he found he was growing weary of the constant fighting. It truly served no purpose; he was defending no kingdom, nor was he trying to prove his worth in battle. It was nothing more than a mindless slaughter, and after living it daily for so long, it was beginning to numb him. He felt as stained and battered as his armour; he wished for nothing more than a cleansing. Perhaps the journey itself was a purification of sorts; a test of will.

Rounding the corner, Kain drew to a stop and regarded the slope with a slight feeling of disbelief. "Surely this is a jest," he muttered under his breath, regarding the nearly solid wall of flame which blocked the only passable pathway. The fire was obviously magical in origin; though it burned hot, it was unnaturally silent and somehow self-sustained. He approached it cautiously, testing the flames with his lance. The fire parted under the tip of the blade, which began to glow faintly as the holy magic woven into the metal reacted with the flames. Reassured, Kain drew the lance back and took a step towards the fire -

A few low, painful oaths escaped his lips as he stumbled back, armour smoking. Apparently, simply wielding a magical lance was not enough to gain entrance to the mountain. "Thrice-cursed witchery," he spat at the flames, struggling to remove the scorching hot metal before it could sear his skin. He felt uncomfortably exposed when he finally managed to shed the last of his armour, still warm to the touch. He was certain he was sporting a few mild burns where the metal had touched his skin directly. Kain squatted next to his haphazard pile of armour and glared at the fire in annoyance, mentally re-evaluating his opinion of the ever-so-helpful Elder of Mysidia. The fool could have at least warned him that this was to be a magician's trial. Although, Kain realized with a sinking feeling of guilt, Minh had offered magical assistance, and he had turned it down - his damned pride getting in the way, once again. At this point, however, there was naught to be done about it. With a resigned sigh, he sunk to the ground and made himself comfortable, waiting for his equipment to cool.

Hours later, Kain was once again bedecked in his full Dragoon regalia, but no closer to passing Mount Ordeals' wall of flame. Though he had studied the fire critically, watching carefully for any fluctuations or shifts in the patterns, the results had been fruitless. His eyes ached, he felt dry and parched, and the heat radiating from the magical fire was not helping him deal with the summer temperatures in the least. His temper felt as raw as his burned skin, and he was almost ready to call the whole endeavour off and retreat back into Mysidia.

The shameful admittance of yet another failure, of defeat at the hands of his own personal shortcomings and weaknesses, however, stayed his feet. If he could not gain the mountain by his own abilities, he did not deserve... but that thought was not worth following. He would gain access to the mountain; it was only a matter of time.

Finally, he stood up and stretched his sore back, working the kinks out of his muscles. "If no passage will be granted today," he told the flames irately, "then I will simply try again tomorrow." The flames, naturally, gave no indication of having heard his promise and continued to flicker merrily, ignoring his existence. With an exasperated sigh, Kain turned away from the blaze and searched for an ideal location to camp. His surroundings were rather harsh, but the forest was close enough so that he could still gather enough wood for a comfortable campfire and hunt for his meals. Surely, Minh would not have sent him on a fool's quest - there must be a way into the mountain. He required only the patience to find it.

Five days later, Kain was no closer to finding a method to part the flames and growing quickly unenamoured of his daily meals of tough game. Prayer, fasting and meditation had provided no viable results other than a bodily weakness which nearly killed him when he finally decided to take up hunting once more. Repeated attempts to simply walk through the flame had only yielded burned fingertips; his lone attempt to leap over the wall of flame had nearly ended badly when the fire unexpectedly flared up to match his jump. He was tired, dirty, too hot, burned and sore, and he wanted nothing more than for the whole ordeal to be over and done with. And, he thought wryly to himself, it hadn't even begun yet.

He wondered idly if the fire was some Mysidian secret, that only a mage could undo. But then, what was the point of a mountain of trials? And why would Minh send him here, if he knew the mountain would lock itself like a treasure box? No, Minh was perhaps overly perceptive for his age, but he was no trickster. He would not have let Kain go alone were there not something to be obtained from a solitary attempt.

So, on the morning of the fifth day, when Kain rose from his makeshift bed of sparse mountain grass and pine needles, he grimly donned his armour, hefted his lance, and approached the wall of flame with a determination bordering on desperation. He stood before it; it remained as constant and steady as always. He breathed in deeply through his nostrils and held the air in his lungs, gathering his strength.

"WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WANT OF ME?" he finally bellowed. His voice was cracked and hoarse from disuse, and his throat ached from the strain of his cry.

The fire did not change in the slightest, and a feeling of foolishness overcame him. Patience had provided no answers; neither had wit. Brute force had only resulted in injury. Perhaps the mountain really did not wish him to pass; perhaps, he was not even worthy of being cleansed. Kain dropped his head and ground his teeth together.

Somehow, Cecil had passed this trial. Perhaps he had assistance; perhaps he had been judged worthy by the mountain's god. Whatever the reason, he had once again succeeded, while Kain was destined for failure.

Kain looked up and eyed the wall of flame, a dark gleam in his eye. Not this time, he promised himself, stepping away from the wall. So he was not as clever or wise or pure-hearted as Cecil; so he was destined to remain a stranger to Rosa's love, Edge's trust and Rydia's forgiveness. All he would ever know would be the lonely companions of battle and death, the twin yokes of any sworn knight; he could accept that. But what he could not accept was one more defeat, not at the hands of some faceless spirit and a wall of magical flame. If brute force was to be all he knew, then brute force would be his weapon of choice.

Not allowing himself to think any further on his actions, Kain crouched low to the ground, his muscles tensed. Then, with an explosive burst upwards, he leapt into the sky. As expected, the flame rose to greet him; he felt engulfed as the full force of the magic slammed into him with all the weight of a great beast. His armour was burning, instantly, hotter than even Zemus' Meteo; he howled in pain as the edges against his skin scorched him. It was as if something was actually actively pushing back at him - back, back to Mysidia, back to the ground, back to failure...

But Kain was a Dragon Knight, and if there was one thing that his bones and body knew, it was how to manage a fight in midair. He'd wrestled with dragons even as a young boy, and now - through all of the pain, all of the agony, the feeling that his armour was melting into his body as the scent of charred cloth filled the air - even now the response was more instinctual than anything. Kain changed directions mid-air, fighting - somehow, with the core of his being, the only part not bursting with fiery anguish - against that unseen force within the fire. He writhed against it, gripping the spear, using the momentum of the wind itself to carry him through -

- and the fire broke with an almost audible crack! The resistance was suddenly gone, and Kain, surprised, lost control, tumbling through the air - oh, sweet Odin, when had he gotten that high? The ground below him was so much farther than he'd even thought - he'd been flying, as if on a dragon once again. He tried to twist himself, to regain the precarious aerial balance a Dragoon depended on, but every movement inside his molten armour chafed and burned against charred blisters he could already feel. Unable to control his fall entirely, Kain simply closed his eyes and re-arranged his grip on the holy lance in the hopes of not stabbing himself to death when he landed - if the fall didn't kill him first. There was a burst of cool wind against his face, and then a rush in his eyes and ears as darkness edged closer.

It struck him behind the eyes like a full-fledged headache, nettling him into some strange sort of awareness - but what was this? He could feel portions of his body - for example, his palm still clutched painfully around the burning shaft of his lance - but he could move nothing, nor could he feel other important limbs like his legs or fingers. It sounded as if millions were screaming into his ears all at once, the shrieking of angry furies. Desperately, Kain wondered whether this was what it was to die - whether he would expire here, paralyzed and weak, at the foot of Mount Ordeals. He would never even have the opportunity to challenge the mountain - to climb and seek his forgiveness. Perhaps, Kain thought weakly, this was simply the Light's way of telling him that absolution would never be his.

The shrieking and pounding in his ears faded slowly, to be replaced by a peaceful black. The sensations in the rest of his body faded also, a cool, dark sense of peace arriving in their place. Kain sighed and closed whatever was meant to be eyes in this strange limbo. This was the end.

There was a light, somewhere far away from him, and Kain knew that he wasn't exactly anywhere, and that he was seeing this image somewhere in his mind rather than on the backs of his eyelids. A light shone out - a sun - a sun setting beyond a distant and unfamiliar mountain range - pillars, carved of ancient marble - a man, long-haired and fully bearded, walking between the columns - a shape against the sun - the pillars of a temple - the shadow of a man - a man, walking - a long gown - shadowing the sun.

Go, my friend, a voice whispered. It was strange, somewhat reminiscent of the powerful beings they'd met on the moon: thick with ancient magic. I do not hold what you seek. Go, and be at peace.

No, Kain wanted to say into the blackness, but he could not find his lungs to fill with air, nor his lips to speak. No, he tried to say anyway. I do not believe you.

The pinpoint of sun flared suddenly and vanished; Kain winced in this void-like space, before another scene appeared before him: moonlight, the two crescents of the moons peaking - a thick column - a woman's voice - a flash, like stars, suddenly appearing across a night sky. There were so many - millions, so many stars, and the temple was silhouetted against the indigo shadow of the darkened skyline. There was another rustle of robes, a flash of pale beard and long hair - a temple made of shadows, dark and peaceful - and then the ruffle of skirts, much like Rosa's, framed by one thin sliver of moon.

There are no answers here, the new voice said. She sounded human, almost familiar to Kain's straining senses. Not for the questions you bear.

Kain gathered whatever was left of himself in this dream, and with all of his strength, tried to wake up. It wasn't true - it couldn't be true. Mount Ordeals gave absolution; it gave reason and direction, it granted forgiveness. It cleansed. It had done so for Cecil. Even at this level, even deep inside the very core of his being, even in the place where there were no shadows and no secrets - even when Kain admitted his every crime, he still had to hope. Something within him still believed that there was an answer out there, some kind of brilliant Light that would see how badly he regretted every bit of pain he'd caused his friends and blot out all the darkness within him.

His friends appeared before him, now, in the darkness, shadowed by the brightness of the stars and the moon swirling around him. Kain could not determine whether they were real, or simply spectres of his imagination - but he called to them nonetheless. My brother-in-arms, I am sorry, he said as Edge's stern face moved past him: Edge, who had once threatened to kill him had he ever turned traitor again. Then Rydia, her furious, volatile, pixie-like face contorted in tears and anger as he'd never seen her in real life. Rydia, Kain tried to say to her, it is your forgiveness I seek. As she vanished past him again, he saw Cecil and Rosa's faces, and he knew: You have already forgiven me, Kain said to their spectres. It is I who must forgive myself.

The faces of his friends faded away, as did the stars and the moons and the shadow-lines of the strange ancient temple - vanished into the black, merging with the darkness. A cool breeze touched his face: cool and familiar, like the winds of his home. Kain Highwind.

Kain opened his eyes. He was lying somewhat crooked on the ground, and his entire body was stiff as if he hadn't moved in an eon. He breathed. Whatever world he was in now, it smelled like his own: the scent of dry dust, a cool breeze from the south, and nearby, something faint was rotting. Struggling, he sat up, feeling the pieces of his armour bang unsteadily against each other as -

Wait. Kain peeled his helm from his head, noticing as he did so that his hands were not charred or even blistered. He set the helm in his lap and looked at his palms. Across one of them was the faint pale stripe of an old scar, as if he'd touched something very hot, many years ago. He looked closer, and started in amazement when something fell across his face and into his lap. It was his hair - but his hair had grown long, much longer than it had ever been. Kain could feel the weight of it now, on his back. He'd kept it in a short ponytail before; now, it was almost waist-long, thick and tangled.

How long have I been asleep?

Kain stood up swiftly, glancing around himself hurriedly. Behind him stood a tall pillar of fire, burning magic-bright against the pale rocks of the countryside. No, this was Mount Ordeals - and Kain had found himself on the other side of the mountain.

It came back to him in a rush: his desperate jump, the fire around him and the sense that every part of him was coated in flame, his frantic push through the column of fire and his disastrous landing in the - wait. Kain looked down at himself. Yes, he was standing. He felt fine - stiff, perhaps, from sleeping in his Dragoon armour, but nothing serious was injured or broken. He shook his head, taking a few tentative steps. Well, all those parts worked fine. He swung his arms experimentally. No, those parts worked fine too.

Kain let out a long breath of amazement. It didn't make sense. Even if he'd imagined the fire - and it surely hadn't burnt like an imaginary fire - the landing itself should have killed him outright. And yet here he was, whole and hale, through the fire and ready to climb Mount Ordeals. He almost laughed at the small blossom of hope which had appeared in his chest: there was still a whole mountain to climb, with trials only few could speak of, and he came to the mountain bearing only his spear and armour and good wishes? He had no items, he had no companions, and he had no guide. If there was to be a battle for his salvation, Kain Highwind came to it poorly prepared.

But perhaps that is the point, Kain thought as the tiny speck of hope refused to die. He'd been stripped of worldly possessions and now stood before the mountain as he was: only a Dragoon, friendless and desperate. He'd somehow made it through the first step of his purification: whether it had been the mountain or the wind itself which had granted him passage, he had passed through the fire.

Kain shouldered his spear and donned his helm once again. Behind him, the pillar of flame stood, bright and crisp. Before him, the sleeping secrets of Mount Ordeals waited.

Notes on this fic: This is, once and for all, Enkida's fault. I had this plotbunny idea all set to use for a nice, long, Kain/Rydia oneshot for katmillia. I mentioned it to Enkida after she completed FFIV and she kind of jumped on the poor bunny and dragged it away. Eventually I caught up with her, we wrestled around with it for a bit (oooh, kinky!) and this is what came out. Yes, if you follow that analogy, Enkida and I have had sex and made mangled bunny stew. ENJOY, KATY.