Coming of Age - Part II-2
Two days later, Zann returned to Archades with Lady Caera and the shipment of magicite she had been sent to secure. After the initial whirlwind of Lady Caera's brief disappearance, the attempted assassination and the unfortunate escape of the sky pirates, the rest of their trip to Bhujerba had been uneventful, as mundane as arriving back in Archades in Zann's private airship. Lady Caera had immediately been whisked away by her usual handlers-a position Zann had once held before her promotion-and Zann had her own duties to tend to, so that she had no time to contemplate the events surrounding Lady Caera.
However, that all changed when Lady Caera came to see Zann privately, at Zann's own home rather than at the Ministry. Zann was shocked to answer the door and find Lady Caera all alone, wrapped in a cloak that was too big for her, hiding behind the high hood.
"I must speak to you," Lady Caera said, her voice low and urgent, and did not wait to be invited inside.
"My Lady?" Zann asked, confused, but closed the door and turned to follow Lady Caera into the house.
"It is about the assassins in Bhujerba." The terse statement did little to enlighten Zann, but there was nothing she could do, so she simply waited. Lady Caera threw off her cloak, her every action too big and jerky, betraying her agitation. Under her cloak, she was clutching the stone, still giving off that strange, mysterious blue shine. "And an assassination here in Archades as well."
"An assassination?" Zann repeated, even more bewildered now. She had heard of no such thing since returning to the Imperial City.
"Senator Irubes died on the very night after I was attacked. A hunting accident, the reports said. That he fell off his chocobo." Lady Caera snorted and paced the floor anxiously, such an unnaturally adult air in her slight, 15-year-old frame. "Senator Irubes was one of the most vocal dissenters to my sister's war efforts. An interesting coincidence that he should have an accident at such a time, is it not?"
"...An interesting coincidence indeed, but it is not-"
"And then there is this." Lady Caera shoved the stone towards Zann, frowning deeper. "There are perhaps half a dozen people in this Empire who really know what this is. I am one of them only by chance. It is nethicite, the most powerful magicite known in history. We have been trying to develop it for years now, but only recently have we been successful in manufacturing actually functioning samples. There is nowhere you can find this except here in Archades, in the most secretive and well-fortified laboratories in all of Ivalice. And the assassins attacking me had it."
Zann frowned, brows drawn in both concentration and confusion. "Nethicite? From the legend of the Dynast King? It is a mythical substance, not-"
"Who knows if it used to be mythical or not? The point is that it is not any longer. We have created it. My sister created it."
Lady Caera was nearly shaking, her hands fluttering in wild gestures even as she paced. Zann could not recall ever seeing the usually calm and quiet princess so upset. Determining that it would not do to let Lady Caera's excitement escalate, Zann reached for the still pacing girl and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to stand still.
"My Lady, you must calm yourself."
Lady Caera's face glistened with sweat, even in the low light of the room, and her black hair clung to her dark skin in straggly wisps. Zann brushed the stray strands back with one broad, gentle stroke and nudged Lady Caera towards a chair, guiding her and settling her down with a firm hand.
"Please, start at the beginning, my Lady. I'm afraid you'll have to fill in quite a few gaps in the story for me."
* * *
The legends said the Dynast King, having proven himself by conquering Belias the Gigas, received two gifts from the gods as a sign of their favor. One was a great sword that could cleave through even boulders and armor, and the other was a powerful magicite that could nullify even the strongest of magicks. This magicite, unlike any other found upon the mortal realm, was said to absorb Mist inside itself, meaning it was not a stone containing a finite amount of Mist like other magicites but a stone that could become almost infinitely powerful. Using these gifts, he united all of Ivalice under his Galtean Alliance, ushering in an era of peace that would survive him by hundreds of years. After his death, it was said his holy objects were buried with him, so that unworthy mortals may not wield them.
"Nethicite absorbs Mist. I am not sure, but even your fatigue after sleeping the whole night in contact with the stone-it could be because the stone robbed you of the Mist naturally flowing through your body. An unwanted side-effect of the stone, perhaps, but obviously you can see how it would be an immensely powerful weapon, enough to offset such side-effects. It is even the driving catalyst behind our recent airship revolution: the prototype ships we have been developing for flight over Jagd areas are powered by nethicite, although only the top researchers and scientists know this. The reason regular airships cannot fly over Jagd is because too much Mist flows through Jagd, disrupting the glossair engines. But if you use nethicite instead of normal skystone to power the engines, the nethicite absorbs the excess Mist, allowing stable flight. It's a project that has been pursued in secret for years, even when His Majesty was alive. My sister has only continued the research, supporting it even more," Lady Caera explained, her tone steady and reasonable now, without any of the panicked excitement from before. "Still, it is not a widely known project. I know of it because one of the Senators involved told me in secret. My sister probably does not know that I know."
"Who would have access to such precious magicite then? Her Highness, of course, but researchers? Senators?" Zann mused aloud.
"It is hard to say. It is not being mass-produced. They mine the richest, purest magicite from Lhusu and perform extensive, elaborate procedures-the details, I do not know-but still, only very small quantities of nethicite can be produced in one batch. Nearly all of it should still be traceable at this point." Lady Caera swallowed and looked up, her eyes meeting Zann's unwaveringly, though her voice was hushed. "Senator Irubes was part of the project, but only because he had been so before, when His Majesty was still alive. It was he who told me of the nethicite. It cannot be a coincidence that he is now dead and I am only alive because of you."
"My Lady, surely you don't mean to suggest Her Majesty ordered-" Zann started, her tone full of protest, but Lady Caera cut her off.
"No, perhaps it was not my sister. But even giving her the full benefit of the doubt, there may be those who have allied themselves with her and wish to see me, a potential political rival, out of the picture. Who else would kill Senator Irubes? It is a simple matter of ascertaining who gains what." Lady Caera's eyes were wise beyond her years, and hearing her talk of political rivalries and gains made Zann's heart ache for her.
"...What do you wish to do then?" Zann asked.
Lady Caera sighed and did not answer for several long moments. "...My sister loves me, as I do her. Make no mistake about that, Your Honor, it is true. But my sister will also do whatever is required of her to win, and family ties do not stand before that." Zann had thought Lady Caera too young to really be involved in the political arena of Archades. She realized now that such thoughts had been merely her own naiveté. Lady Caera was already an accomplished player. "I wish to leave Archades for the time being. It will be safer for me away from whoever is getting rid of my sister's enemies."
"Of course, it will be easy to arrange another extended trip outside the country," Zann said, going through lists of possible places in her head. Perhaps Bhujerba again, or maybe Rabanastre, the capital of Dalmasca. She did not see any reason the Empress would refuse such a request from Lady Caera.
"But more importantly, I wish to visit the Dynast King's tomb. Legend has it that his sword is buried there-the other half of the gods' gift to him. It is said to be able to destroy anything. Quite possibly even nethicite."
"My Lady, these are only speculations based on coincidence. Getting a weapon? It is too-"
"It is a precaution. I never said I would wield it against my sister. Maybe it will even make a good peace offering to prove I am not her enemy. I do not wish to fight my own flesh and blood, Judge Zann. I want to protect myself, that is all." Lady Caera sighed and stood, pacing again, but less restless and more resigned now, her steps slow and weary. "You have always been good to me. You have risked your life to save mine many times, and I realize and appreciate it." Lady Caera stopped in the middle of the room, looking at Zann sincerely. "I have no one else I can trust to grant me this boon. Accompany me to the Dynast King's tomb. I promise you I shall not ask you to betray the Empress for my sake."
Zann sighed softly, but did not look away from Lady Caera's pleading gaze.
"...Very well. I will organize my affairs first so that I may leave my office for several days. We can take my ship and fly there-the journey will not take long." Zann stood, closing the distance between the two, and reached to take Lady Caera's hand gently. "I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding. Everything will be fine. But I will always do my best to serve you, my Lady, you may always be sure of that."
Lady Caera gave Zann a weary smile. "Thank you, Judge Zann."
* * *
Zann's ship, a gift from the Empress that she had received a year and a half ago when she was promoted to Judge Magister, was fitted with the latest skystone technology-nethicite technology, Zann realized now-that allowed it to fly over Jagd. As the Dynast King's tomb was located in the depths of the desert Jagd Yensa, more commonly known as the Sandsea, this made Zann's preparations for Lady Caera's little excursion quite easy. In accordance to Lady Caera's wishes to keep the journey a secret, Zann simply asked for a two-day reprieve from her duties, stating that she wished to take a small vacation of sorts after finalizing an important deal in Bhujerba, and waited for Lady Caera at the aerodome. Lady Caera, of course, had simply chosen to run away from her handlers again, and Zann secretly felt a deep sympathy for them, for she had been in their shoes too often before to feel wholly innocent in the role she was playing. There was little she could do, however, and she only hoped they would not be chastised too severely once they returned to Archades.
The Sandsea was only several hours away from Archades, and the flight was mercifully uneventful. Lady Caera sat in the co-pilot's seat but said nothing, buried in her reading even on Zann's airship, and Zann was too occupied with piloting the vessel to try to engage her in conversation.
The Dynast King's tomb was unmistakable even from a far distance; it loomed up out of the nothingness of the desert, not only gigantic but also elaborate, with even a tiled courtyard before it that was somehow clean and uncovered by the blowing sands around it. The effect was one of immediate awe and not a little fear-for who could build such a structure that it would repel even the sands, one thousand years after its creator was dead?
"There are powerful magicks surrounding the tomb," Lady Caera murmured, startling Zann. "I didn't imagine they would be this strong, after all this time."
Zann grimaced as she gently eased the ship downward, making ready to land. "Well, let us hope the Dynast King does not end up killing us even in his sleep."
* * *
After landing the ship just in front of the Dynast King's tomb, Zann turned the cloaking systems on, hiding the airship lest any other Archadian ships pass through the area and feel compelled to investigate. Then she offered Lady Caera her hand as they disembarked onto the courtyard of the tomb.
The courtyard was a wide expanse of tiled floor, with large columns lining a path down the center to a vast stairway. The stairway, at least fifty steps by quick estimation, in turn presumably led up to the entrance of the tomb, although Zann saw no door. Zann surveyed their surroundings slowly, both her swords drawn in precaution, in case the Dynast King had thought to set up any magickal guards to protect his tomb.
Abruptly, Zann stopped, pulling Lady Caera back behind her. Something was moving around outside the tomb; Zann could sense it. She did not see anything, however, and kept herself and Lady Caera hidden behind the ornate pillars in the courtyard.
After several long moments of waiting with bated breath, there was a shimmering flash of light from the mouth of the tomb. Zann could hardly believe her eyes as three figures appeared from the light, materializing from thin air. Surely the magicks of the Dynast King's tomb were ancient, far beyond anything modern technology could reach. Gripping the hilt of her sword more firmly, ready to draw it at a moment's notice, she carefully leaned out beyond the pillar to peer at the tomb's entrance, trying to make out who they were facing. If the three mysterious figures should be enemies, Zann and Lady Caera would be outnumbered and at a disadvantage.
Even from a distance, however, the tall frame and quivering, furry ears of a Viera are hard to miss, and when Zann recognized even the armor, she blinked several times in disbelief. Surely not them again. But when the Viera turned to walk down the steps toward the courtyard, the build of the woman behind her was unmistakable as well. What were they doing here? Surely they would not be so foolish as to seek treasure in the haunted, probably exceedingly well-protected tomb of a legendary king?
The woman by Freas and Nerua's side, Zann did not recognize. She was quite tall, with noble bearing and a proud set to her shoulders. Under the hood drawn over her head, Zann could make out strands of blonde hair, but her face was almost entirely obscured. She was dressed plainly, and not very practically for a trip to a place as dangerous as this, wearing robes that could not be hiding any substantial armor underneath, for they had no bulk covering her thin frame. And as far as Zann could see, she had no weapons save a well-worn staff. A mage rather than a warrior, clearly, but then, Zann had always thought even mages could use protection against wild creatures.
"Just the three of us won't make it through this tomb," Freas said, her voice loud enough for even Zann to make out the words. "Did you see that wall?"
The woman's voice was softer and Zann could not hear her words, only the deep-seated tension that thrummed under her tone.
"Where are we going to get reinforcements? Be realistic; nobody's getting past all the protection the Dynast King put up."
They were coming closer to the pillar Zann and Lady Caera were hidden behind. Zann pulled herself back behind the pillar, sacrificing her view for the advantage of a few more minutes of staying unnoticed.
"We stand no chance against the Empire without the Dynast King's legacy."
The voice was unfamiliar; obviously the mage. Zann shared a quick, alarmed glance with Lady Caera. It seemed they had competition.
"We? You're the one who wants to face the Empire. I'm just here for the treasure. I'm not willing to die for it. Your rebellion can go to hell for all I care."
"How many times do I have to tell you it is the Resistance, not a rebellion? There is a difference."
The voices were close now, very close. Just a step or two away from where Zann stood. Zann held her breath and flattened herself against the pillar, inching around it in hopes of avoiding being caught entirely. Lady Caera followed Zann's example, and it might have worked, if not for the Viera's sharp nose.
"We are not the only adventurers here, it seems," Nerua said quietly, stopping right in front of their little hiding place. Though Zann was sure Nerua could not see them from where she stood, the theatrical effect was no less dramatic.
"What?" Freas, who had seemingly been oblivious, turned around.
Zann sighed.
"...well well. Fancy meeting you two here." That drawl, and that smirk. Freas hardly deserved to be so smug, Zann thought darkly, when she had been ready to walk by them completely.
Lady Caera came out from where she had been hiding behind Zann, and the whole demeanor of the woman next to Freas changed. Her expression instantly became fiercely angry, and she held forth her staff menacingly as she took a step closer.
"How dare one of Imperial blood desecrate the Dynast King's resting place?" she spit, eyes burning as she raised her staff as if to strike Lady Caera down. Zann raised her sword as well, stepping in front of Lady Caera protectively.
"...you know each other?" Freas asked, her voice as mild as if asking about the weather.
"It is enough to know she is of the House of Asriel!"
"Well, and the other one's a Judge, a Judge Magister even, in case you wanted to know," Freas supplied helpfully and smirked at Zann. Zann kept her face impassive, but inside, she vowed to smack Freas's head for that flippant attitude once this was over.
"The Empire has no business here. This is a sacred place for the rightful kingdoms of Ivalice." The woman's voice was not as loud now, her fury settling down into a colder, more measured pace, but the hardness of her words did not abate.
"...the rightful kingdoms..." Lady Caera murmured, staying behind Zann but watching the woman intently. "...my god, you are Lady Rynelia."
Zann frowned. This woman? By all rights, Rynelia should have been dead. Surely Lady Caera must be mistaken.
"At least you remember the kingdoms you have wrought ruin on," the woman sneered. She seemed almost ready to attack, and not just with words this time, so Zann took a step back, keeping her swords on the defensive and looking for any weaknesses to exploit. She did not wish to battle two against three.
Then Freas turned to the woman, for the first time looking as if she had been caught off guard completely.
"Wait, you're a princess?"
* * *
Freas seemed to have a knack for picking up princesses in disguise. This time, it was one that had been assumed dead after she disappeared several years ago. The desert kingdom of Dalmasca had been conquered six years ago, its king fallen in battle against the Archadian forces and his only daughter vanished. It had been assumed that she had died somewhere, unknown and unsung, but here Rynelia of Dalmasca stood, still glaring at Lady Caera with all the ruin of her fallen kingdom in her gaze.
"Is it fashionable to undertake impossible tasks nowadays? What happened to the good old values of practicality?" Freas shrugged and sank down unto the steps in front of the Dynast King's tomb. "So many people wishing to overthrow the Empire, and you might just get the army you wanted, princess."
"They don't want to overthrow the Empire. They just want to save their own hides because they've lost a political battle." Rynelia waved her hand in disgust. Clearly, she had no sympathy for an Archadian princess who had nearly been assassinated by her own sister. Zann did not point out that she and Lady Caera had no intention whatsoever of rebellion. It seemed wiser to keep her mouth shut.
"That may be true, but for now, it seems they share our purpose, and we need more fighters if we are to get inside the tomb," Nerua said, her voice as calm and reasonable now as it had been when she was a prisoner in Bhujerba. "Perhaps we can join forces for now."
"Are you insane? And deliver the Dynast King's sword straight to the House of Asriel?"
"Or you can stay out here, princess, and find your way home. I already told you I'm here for the treasure; I don't care what happens to the sword, and it looks like these two will help me get inside this ridiculous tomb," Freas retorted smoothly, clapping Zann and Lady Caera on the back with mock heartiness.
Zann privately thought that enlisting sky pirates in a dangerous trip to an ancient tomb by promising treasure was surely one of the stupidest cases of managing hired help she had seen in recent years.
"You said yourself the last time you saw each other she arrested you!"
"She is welcome to try to do so when she has no guards to back her up," Nerua said, her tone almost bored now. Zann bristled, but again kept silent.
"Well, what happens afterwards, then? We all embrace each other, hand in hand, defeat the bad monsters, but who keeps the sword?" Rynelia asked angrily.
"That would be your problem." Freas shrugged, waving in the general direction of the three people who were not pirates. "You can sort that out amongst yourselves."
"Lady Rynelia-" Zann started, thinking this pointless debate had gone on long enough, but Rynelia cut her off with another vehement snap.
"Stay out of this!"
"Lady Rynelia, it really does seem as if there is no choice but to help each other for now. I certainly do not wish to fight you here," Lady Caera added, pushing her words at an even tone and pace over Rynelia's angry interruptions.
"Splendid, it's all settled then," Freas said, smiling and clapping her hands in delight. She paid no heed to Rynelia's outraged squawks, only pushing her back towards the tomb. "There is a devilish wall inside waiting with our names on it; let's hope we have better success against it with more people."
"A devilish wall?" Zann asked with some skepticism.
"Yes, I'm sure you can't wait to see it."
* * *
The wall in question stood guarding the first door inside the tomb, just beyond where they were teleported by the ancient magicks of the device outside it. At first glance, it appeared to be merely decoration. A six-armed demon that wielded six different swords was carved in bold relief from the torso up-somewhat intimidating, perhaps, but hardly any real problem. However, when they approached the wall, the demon's stone body suddenly jumped out of the wall, rearing its head menacingly and brandishing its swords.
Every one of its arms was at least as long as Zann was tall, but at least its movements were slow. Zann stood and observed it for several seconds, estimating the speed she would need to rush into a charge and retreat unscathed. It was not long before she found an opening, and she sprinted with all her might, using her velocity to slam both her swords down against one stone elbow. What was surprising was that Zann's swords hacked straight through the brittle rock, crushing the demon's arm and scattering smaller rocks all over the floor. For all the fear the demon wall had roused, it was just as easily conquered, and Zann blinked when she realized all six arms had been dashed to the ground.
"...I wonder if my dagger could have done that," Freas asked, once the demon's head was also chopped off. With six limbs and one head destroyed, the wall returned to being just that, a lump of immobile stone. Bullets, arrows, and magic had made nary a dent in it before, but all that had been needed was a sword and some brute force.
"Our partnership is already fruitful, I see," Nerua remarked as well, smirking ever so slightly as she shouldered her bow.
Rynelia said nothing, only grunting as she pushed past the wall to the door, which opened into a descending staircase. Lady Caera only squeezed Zann's hand once, smiling lightly, before she turned away to follow Rynelia.
"Changing your armor often, eh? Must be nice to be a Judge Magister with all the best equipment," Freas said casually, falling into step next to Zann.
Zann blinked, surprised that Freas was making idle conversation, but also surprised that Freas noted these things. A Judge Magister's formal armor was practical only in a few, very limited ways. Judges Magister were only very rarely involved in any actual battle, whether on the land or in the air. The armor was simply meant to stand out, a symbol of the Empire's authority that towered over the battlefield, indirect but potent. On the rare occasion a Judge Magister actually rode into battle on a chocobo, the armor did indeed provide nearly impervious protection, but on foot, it was so heavy it exhausted its wearer within mere hours and limited movement far too much to be truly practical. For this trip, Zann had exchanged her usual formal armor for a lighter set of hardened leather, and even then, she left her arms unprotected save a pair of bracers for the added range of movement.
"...well, you've worn the plate metal before. It is quite uncomfortable in real field situations."
Freas laughed. "So serious all the time, Zann. You're just as I remember you."
Zann only shifted uncomfortably and looked back to the front, not liking the feeling that she was being teased. Then she realized it was the first time Freas had ever called her by name, without any title. It was a strange feeling indeed.
* * *
The advance through the Dynast King's tomb was slow and arduous, every step requiring caution, every sound a cause for alarm. They kept their weapons drawn as they watched skeleton warriors spring up from the very stone tiles they walked upon, drawn from the air or the earth by some mysterious force. Zann had seen undead before, but never this kind of spontaneous creation, and she shuddered again to think how much power the Dynast King must have wielded to protect his treasure so viciously.
Zann swung down her sword with all her might, knocking one skeleton to the ground and breaking several of its ribs. The brittle bones of the undead shattered easily, and though the skeleton flailed several times on the ground, it could not get back up. Zann whirled around to block the thrust of another skeleton's spear with her blade, but the impact of the blow forced her backwards, and she stumbled over the bones she had just strewn over the floor. Twisting her body in vain to avoid a fall, she collapsed in an ungraceful heap and winced as she landed on her hip.
A thundering bolt of light flew over Zann's head, pushing her attacker back in turn and giving her time to recover to her feet. Before she even stood, however, both skeletons were no more than dust, crushed by one of Rynelia's spells, and they were safe for the time being. At the least, five was not a small number, and the group complemented each other well for such a ragtag party that had only been thrown together through circumstance.
Zann led the way, as she was the only proficient melee fighter. Nerua, true to her Viera roots, was armed with a longbow, and in this limited space, she was forced to pluck her own arrows back from fallen corpses to keep from running out of them. Freas, who had her shotgun drawn, was luckier; gunshot was easier to carry in bulk and she had plenty in the pouches she kept hanging at her hip. Lady Caera and Rynelia both relied on magick rather than weaponry. If Zann had had her choice of companions, she would have loved to have a fellow sword arm to cover her back, but as it was, the assistance from all the ranged fighters was not bad at all.
Unfortunately, the Dynast King's tomb was even bigger than it appeared outwardly, and before long, Lady Caera was too exhausted to go on. Though Zann had no way of telling the time, it felt like it had been long enough that night would have fallen as well.
"It appears we must take a rest," Zann said, halting the party. They were in a wide corridor that was lit with torches-undoubtedly magickal-a location that was far from ideal, too open to attack from all sides. However, it at least seemed quiet, and they had not been ambushed by any monsters for some times now. Zann suspected any undead monsters were triggered by proximity, much like the demon wall never seemed more than a wall unless one approached it, and this corridor seemed more or less safe.
"How big is this bloody tomb anyway?" Freas complained, craning her neck and scratching it restlessly. "If we have to go much further, we're going to starve to death in here."
Freas was right. They had brought some food with them, but not nearly enough to last a trip of more than three days, at most.
"We'll rest now and see if we can go a few more hours tomorrow. If there is no end in sight, we shall have to turn back and restock ourselves for a longer trip," Zann ordered, accustomed to assuming command, and took off her cloak to spread it on the ground for herself and Lady Caera. Privately, however, she worried that if this trip lasted much longer, she and Lady Caera would be missed in Archades.
* * *
Thankfully, the next day, it was not too long before they reached a large chamber, presumably at the very bottom of the tomb, quite different from the nondescript corridors they had trekked through. Armed to the teeth and proceeding with extreme caution, it was almost anticlimactic when they found the Dynast King's sword resting on an altar of sorts with no discernible safeguards around it.
"...Is the first person to touch it going to die a horrible death?" Freas asked, only half-joking, it seemed.
"According to the legends, only those of royal blood can reach this chamber. I believe the sword will recognize descendents of the Dynast King," said Rynelia, but even she did not sound confident enough to touch the sword first. When everybody turned to look at her expectantly, she flushed, taking a step back from the altar. "What?"
"Well, you are the only descendent of the Dynast King here," Nerua said slowly, as if pointing it out to a very small child, and slung her bow back over her shoulder. Perhaps she had decided there were no threats here to those who would not touch the sword.
Scowling, Rynelia turned back to the altar, taking a deep breath as she stepped forward. She hesitated only a moment before reaching out to grab the hilt of the sword, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as she did.
Nothing happened. Another anticlimax to their little journey.
"...oh good, I suppose the old man had a heart after all. We went through all those skeletons, so we don't get hexed in here." Freas shouldered her gun as well and smiled. "So, you've got your sword, bravo. Now, where's the treasure?"
* * *
It seemed as though Freas complained nonstop on the way back up to the surface about Rynelia lying to her, but truthfully, Zann found it comforting to have the incessant, if pointless, chatter as background noise. There were no monsters attacking them on the way back, as if the tomb recognized it had been bested and graciously admitted defeat, so their ascent was faster than the descent had been.
"This is greater treasure than any mere piles of gold. Don't you see its worth is immeasurable?" Rynelia finally snapped at Freas, clearly tired of the constant badgering. She had not let go of the Dynast King's sword since she had taken hold of it the first time.
"Yes, but I was hoping for treasure whose worth you can measure," Freas retorted sulkily. Rynelia merely rolled her eyes.
"What will our course of action be, my Lady?" While Rynelia and Freas were bickering, Zann took the opportunity to share counsel with Lady Caera in whispers.
"I am not sure yet. I do not know what Lady Rynelia wishes to do with the sword," Lady Caera whispered back.
"At any rate, I will be greatly missed in Archades if we do not return within the day, and you are probably already being searched for all over the Empire. We do not have the luxury of time." Zann frowned, turning back to look at Rynelia again. Rynelia was openly hostile to the Empire, probably involved in some sort of rebel movement, and giving her such a dangerous weapon would be irresponsible indeed. And yet, she did not wish to have to resort to brute force to wrest control of the weapon away from the princess. Zann had always been more interested in diplomatic solutions.
"We shall have to wait and see for now," said Lady Caera, sighing as she too looked back at Rynelia.
* * *
When they finally returned to the surface, it was dark outside. They had been down in the tomb nearly two full days. The darkness was not surprising, for Zann had estimated that night would have fallen already, but it forced her to squint to see her cloaked ship in the distance.
Freas took a deep breath, sighing loudly after. "At least it doesn't smell like death out here. Good, crisp desert air, eh, Nerua?" Nerua only smiled lightly and shrugged, although she too seemed more relaxed than she had been before.
"Where are you going to go now?" Zann asked Rynelia.
"I don't believe that is any of your business," Rynelia replied stiffly, backing away from Zann a step or two.
"I was under the impression we still had unsettled business to tend to."
"I never asked you to help me, and I am the only rightful owner of this sword. I won't let you steal away my legacy as you have stolen away my kingdom." Rynelia sounded colder than she had since their very first meeting, and Zann sighed, rubbing her forehead.
"Why don't you two settle your differences after we actually get out of the Sandsea? For all we know, we might get caught up in a sandstorm and die here anyway," Freas called as she walked over, pulling Zann away from Rynelia with an overly friendly hand tucked into Zann's belt.
It was only then Zann realized the sky pirates and the Dalmascan princess had walked through the Sandsea to reach the Dynast King's tomb. Of course. They did not have access to the best Archadian technology. This was at least another card dealt to Zann that she could use to her advantage.
"Actually, we came by airship. We would be happy to take you back to civilization-as long as you consent to seriously consider any offers we might make regarding the sword," Zann suggested.
"An airship? Into Jagd? What are you talking about?" Freas asked, laughing it off as if Zann were crazy.
"Quite a few Archadian ships are now able to fly over Jagd. I'm surprised you haven't heard of it, considering your line of work." Zann trotted over to the airship and disengaged the cloaking system, as if to prove her word. The small carrier was once more visible, stark white against the black sky and dark sands.
Freas gaped. "I thought they were only rumors! You mean this thing really flies in Jagd? Oi, Nerua, come look!" Somehow, her excitement was childish but oddly endearing as she ran up to the ship to peer at it, beckoning her friend over as well.
Rynelia, however, was not impressed. "How do I know you won't fly us straight back to Archades?" she asked testily, her voice still full of suspicion.
Zann sighed. "If you wish, we can fly to a neutral site of your choosing. I only wish to have a fair chance at settling our differences through compromise."
"Oi, Zann, would you mind very much if I flew the ship to wherever you're going? I'd like a shot at this beauty!" Freas called from the other side of the ship, laughing almost giddily.
Zann raised her eyebrows at Rynelia.
Rynelia frowned.
* * *
Although Zann did not think the capital city of Dalmasca qualified as a "neutral site," Rynelia had insisted and Lady Caera had been forced to acquiesce. With Freas as their neutral pilot, they were headed to Rabanastre then. While the others retired to the private cabins in the back of the ship for some long overdue rest, Zann sat in the co-pilot's seat to supervise, just in case Freas came in any danger of crashing the ship. She longed for sleep as well, but she felt obligated to stay and keep watch when she saw Freas touching every gadget within reach.
Like the communication unit, which Freas flicked on, whether by design or by accident, right in the middle of an announcement to all Imperial fleets.
"Freas, stop touching things you don't-" Zann started to berate her once-pupil, but she stopped, startled, when she heard what the announcement had to say.
"-been missing for over a week now and presumed dead. I repeat, former Judge Magister of the First Order, Judge Zann has been stripped of all rank for the time being and is wanted for kidnapping and attempted murder of Lady Caera, who has been missing for over a week and is presumed dead. All ships are on alert for a white Shiva class carrier, Judge Zann's private vessel. There are witnesses who saw Judge Zann leaving the Archades aerodome on this ship, with a girl who is presumed to be Lady Caera by her side. Until further notice, tracking down this ship is first class priority for all fleets."
Freas stared at the communication unit, still crackling with Mist, and then at Zann.
"...did I just hear that correctly?"
"...there must be some sort of mistake. Missing for a week? We left Archades yesterday!" Zann muttered, reaching for the communication unit. She had thought to replay the message, but it turned out there was no need. The message was being repeated nonstop. It was being truly being treated as a first class priority emergency.
"If we fly this thing into Rabanastre, we'll be caught before you can say Imperial guards," Freas said slowly, after listening to the message once more in silence.
"It is a misunderstanding. I'm sure we'll be able to clear it up once we talk to the officials in Rabanastre," Zann replied, her words stiff with tension.
"Zann, the entire Imperial fleet is out for you. They wouldn’t do that for a 'misunderstanding.' This is serious."
"I left Archades with Lady Caera yesterday."
"Well, maybe time passes at a different rate inside the tomb. It's not unheard of. Too much Mist distorting time and space, things like that. At any rate, you're a wanted outlaw right now. Walking into Rabanastre is suicide."
"But Lady Caera will confirm to the guards that-"
"They think Caera is dead. We need to find out what's going on first, and we need to ditch this ship. The Morning Star, my ship, is parked in the Westersands, just outside the Jagd Yensa. We'll leave this ship there, take the Morning Star, and figure out what to do once we are in Rabanastre," said Freas, with a firmness to her voice that was unfamiliar to Zann. She was not used to taking orders anymore, but this sounded very much like one.
"...I must speak to Lady Caera," Zann mumbled, dropping her head into her hands, exhausted and confused.
"The Morning Star isn't far away. I believe I can make that flight without supervision." Oddly enough, Freas sounded almost comforting.
* * *
After the initial shock, when Zann sat down to ponder the message seriously, she realized that nothing about it made sense. Even assuming she had kidnapped Lady Caera, unless the Ministry thought it was simply because she was a raving lunatic, there should have been some sort of motive assessed to the crime. Ransom money, demands made of the Empire, anything. But there was nothing of the sort-naturally because Zann was not a kidnapper-and yet it was assumed. Likewise, with no confirmation regarding Lady Caera's whereabouts or status, there was no reason she should have been presumed dead, unless that was what the Ministry actively wished to believe. There were too many holes. They baffled Zann. All her years of service, adding up to this?
Lady Caera listened to Zann's explanation silently, pacing the small cabin where she had been peacefully napping until she was disturbed with the news.
"They were only too happy to realize I might be dead. After all, they tried to accomplish it in Bhujerba, but that ended in failure. And now-now I am not dead but they can pretend I am. Nobody will believe me if I turn up in Rabanastre or Bhujerba and announce my identity. My only hope is to go back to Archades, where I would be recognized, and without your ship, we cannot go back." Lady Caera was growing agitated again, her small feet making the cabin floor reverberate with every step. "Damn! I did not think time would pass differently in the tomb. It is my fault this has happened."
"Nobody could have predicted such a thing, my Lady," Zann murmured, torn between her own upset feelings and the compulsion to comfort Lady Caera. "But we are literally trapped. What do you propose we do?"
"...I see no other option before us than to join forces with Lady Rynelia. For the time being, at least. First we must get to Rabanastre and gather information. And if we are forced into it, we must join her in her... efforts against the Empire."
Zann swallowed down against the lump in her throat. Efforts against the Empire? In all her years of service, she had never entertained such thoughts. And yet, she was now a wanted criminal with only two choices left: to turn herself in to die or to fight against her homeland.
"I... am forced to believe that my concerns about rival political parties have proven to be true. We still do not know if my sister is involved, but we know whoever "they" are, they are actively hounding me," Lady Caera continued, her voice now small and sad rather than angry.
Zann dropped her head into her hands, feeling small and powerless, unable to help Lady Caera or herself. It all seemed unreal. "How did this happen?" she wondered, muttering aloud and shaking her head.
Lady Caera did not answer Zann's question, merely looking at her with a sad resignation in her eyes. "We must speak to Lady Rynelia."
* * *
Dress can turn royalty into beggars and beggars into royalty, or sometimes, simply turn both into average, common citizens with nothing special or notable to speak of. While out in the desert, Zann had not had occasion to think of it much, but coming back to the bustling city of Rabanastre was an almost startling experience. Lady Caera and Rynelia weaved through throngs of people in the streets and were not stopped or even spared a second glance; Zann, without her formal armor, was forced to push people out of her way instead of having the luxury of seeing them scurry to give way; and Freas and Nerua, outlaws, blended into the crowd as if they belonged there. Of course, it was much more convenient this way, but somehow it was still surprising.
For some reason, Freas was the one leading the way and directing the party, although Rynelia was the one who had lived in Rabanastre all her life. "Come, we'll make for the Sandsea. Best inn and tavern in town, it is. And not entirely inappropriate after our journey, eh?" Freas said, strutting in front of everybody else, seldom even sparing a glance back, as if she simply assumed everybody would follow her lead.
Unfortunately, the others did not have much choice either.
After all that time in the desert, the smells of Rabanastre seemed almost violent. The Sandsea reeked of ale and sweat, the spicy, stinging smells of living bodies jammed into the old building. Zann breathed through her mouth and looked over her shoulder before walking into the tavern, ever the rear guard.
"Well, you ladies just wait here while I grab us a table," Freas said, grinning jauntily, but Rynelia shook her head and went to speak to the barkeep. The barkeep's expression was carefully impassive as he jerked his head towards the back and handed Rynelia some keys. Clearly, Rynelia simply suffered through Freas's notions of being the leader of their little party in silence.
"The backroom of a tavern? Well, the rebels certainly don't get points for originality," Freas remarked, looking around the backroom.
"The Resistance," Rynelia retorted, but there was no bite in her tone as she sat down at the table.
Freas sat as well, stretched out lazily, one arm hooked over the back of her chair. "Yes, yes, slip of the tongue. More importantly, where's the ale?"
"That's quite a funny concept of what's important," Rynelia retorted, not looking at Freas.
"Well, it's at least less depressing than considering what we're going to do now that we have the Dynast King's sword. It destroys nethicite and...? What will you use that for? Swing it at Ilea and cut through the nethicite in her pocket?" Freas shrugged. "I'd rather contemplate ale."
"Your only hope is to confront Ilea alone. That will be nigh impossible," Nerua added quietly.
"But we have the sword. It is a start. And the Resistance mustered together will be a force to be reckoned with," Rynelia said. "I can start gathering the scattered forces of the Resistance with the Dynast King's sword as proof of Dalmasca's strength."
"Well, forgive me if I have my doubts that a ragtag Resistance will stand up to the Empire's armies," Freas said dryly.
"Freas, I do not think any of us are in the mood for idle bickering," Zann said tersely. Having gone from Judge Magister to wanted outlaw in the span of two days, her mood was indeed foul.
"Oh, very well. Your Highnesses can sort this out, and I will be out front, contemplating that ale." Freas stood, stretching herself out languidly again. It was such a distinct difference from the coiled, alert tension she had shown on the field, but Zann supposed she had earned a rest anyway.
Once Freas and Nerua left the room, Rynelia sighed loudly. "Surely there must be better help for hire out there somewhere." Zann agreed, but as Rynelia had been the one to bring Freas and Nerua to the Dynast King's Tomb, she hardly thought the Dalmascan princess had any right to complain.
"How long do you think it will take to gather the Resistance forces?" Lady Caera was, as ever, only focused on the important matters at hand.
Rynelia sighed again and shifted in her seat, leaning forward to rest her arms on the table. "I am not sure. I have been long removed from Rabanastre. And even once our forces are gathered, we will have to wait for the right moment to strike. We would do best to bide our time in Rabanastre and make thorough preparations."
"Will we keep our lodgings here?" Zann asked, ever practical. "Or is there somewhere else we can hide?"
"Tomaj, the barkeep, is sympathetic to our causes. He will make sure we can hide here," Rynelia assured them, but did not seem all that reassured herself when she stood restlessly, walking over to a mirror hanging at the back wall. "We shall stay here for now." Through the mirror, Zann could see the frown marring the still smooth forehead of the young princess.
* * *
Rynelia's days were busy, as she spent them mustering and revitalizing all the underground Resistance forces. She said she had been held captive in the Nalbina Dungeons for nearly a year now, although her jailers did not know her true identity. While she was gone, the underground Resistance forces in Rabanastre had seemingly fallen apart, either disintegrated entirely or torn into smaller parts due to distrust and loss of morale. Lady Caera and Zann, for their part, sometimes accompanied Rynelia to help her, but they were also busy secretly contacting certain members of the Senate to look into whether they might find help within the Empire. It was no secret that Ilea's harsh policies had made her unpopular among the old gentry, and Lady Caera had the bloodline to justify her as a possible alternative. And Marquis Auria of Bhujerba, long a vocal dissenter to the Empire's expansion, was also on the list of contacts.
Freas, on the other hand, spent her days in the tavern, trading tall tales and jokes with the rabble there, gambling for petty stakes, and drinking her weight in ale. Though they all shared several rooms on the second floor of the Sandsea, Zann never saw much of Freas, for Freas stayed downstairs at the bar late into the night, woke well after the sun rose high into noon and kept company with her Viera friend or her new Rabanastran friends more than with Zann or the two princesses. Zann was quite used to the new Lurena now, even to the point that she thought of her almost exclusively as Freas now, but sometimes it was like she forgot all over again and went back to being surprised when Freas only grunted in greeting at the dinner table or ignored her in favor of a Bangaa with a pack of cards.
The fifth night they stayed in Rabanastre, Zann quietly came up to her room after dinner and sighed into the emptiness. The inaction disquieted her. Though Rynelia and Lady Caera certainly had things to do, all those things were defined by waiting-waiting for word or news or the cooperation of somebody else. After several days of inactivity, Zann's sword arm itched already. And though the inn provided a much more comfortable bed and better meals than anything she could get outside the city, her body felt heavier too, weighed down by restlessness.
Without bothering to take off her clothes, she sank down into the bed and folded her hands behind her head as she stared up at the ceiling. She felt tired but not sleepy, that particular sort of fatigue that drained her more than anything else. Counting her own breaths, she did not think about the complicated problems they faced, the sheer improbability of triumphing over an entire Empire, or the heaviness of her own body, and instead just peered up at the ceiling and the little patterns of the wood it was made of. The falling light of evening made the grain hard to see, and she had to strain to see some of the smaller knots. When the faint orange glow of twilight subsided into a bluish gray, she found her eyes were too tired and simply let them close.
She awoke to a violent thud from the next room. Startled, she sat up, reaching instinctively for the sword at her bedside. The sound had come from just beyond the wall her headboard rested against. Freas's room. Was it just something dropping to the floor, or was it the sound of some sort of struggle?
There was another smaller bumping sound, and Zann swung her legs over the side of the bed to stand, gripping her sword by its scabbard tightly. They had tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, but unfortunately, between two members of royalty and two sky pirates whose wanted posters were plastered all over the Empire, it was entirely possible that someone had recognized any one of them.
She strode across the small room and had her hand on the doorknob when there was another bump and then-a laugh. Low and muted by the wall, it made her doubt her ears for a few seconds, but it was unmistakably a laugh. Zann stopped and turned to the wall, squinting at it in the darkness as if that would help her gauge the situation.
There came a couple of soft droning sounds that only hinted at a murmured conversation, and then a few more quick bumps. It seemed to be a remarkably amicable fight, if it was one. But then, maybe Freas and Nerua were simply rearranging some furniture at... a very late hour. There was no moon outside Zann's window, and very little sound from the bar below.
With a deep frown on her face Zann stood there, in front of the door, facing the wall, and with her sword still in one hand. She felt foolish but still uneasy, as if she were missing something important that would help explain this situation.
Then the something revealed itself in the form of a low moan, more murmuring voices, and the loud squeak of bed springs. A physical struggle all right, but really not the kind Zann had been envisioning. Zann's first instinct was to just stare blankly at the wall. Miss Lurena engaging in sexual activity? The idea seemed almost preposterous.
Another thump and a few giggles roused Zann from her slack-jawed state. This was hardly an occasion for Zann to listen in on. Scowling at nothing, she put her sword back down where it had been before and flopped back onto the bed. Leave it to Freas to raise a false alarm and disturb Zann's sleep for nothing. The desert winds grew quite chill at night, so Zann climbed back under the covers and closed her eyes again, ready to go back to sleep.
However, another series of quick bumps forced her to open her eyes again and sit up, glowering openly at the wall this time. These sounded quite unmistakably like the headboard hitting the wall. What was worse was that the voices next door were getting louder and more blatantly obscene as well. Grumbling, Zann got out of bed and staggered heavily towards the door. With no possibility of danger to keep her alert anymore, she was back to feeling lethargic and uncoordinated. The sounds were not as loud when she stepped out into the hallway. Evidently the doors were made of better material than the walls.
Downstairs, the tavern was nearly empty, but Tomaj still manned the bar by himself. Zann sometimes wondered if the man ever got any sleep. He was young, no older than twenty-five, so perhaps that was why he seemed so indefatigable.
"What're you doing down here this time of night?" he asked, surprised when Zann sat on one of the bar stools.
Zann just waved a hand in annoyance. "Couldn't sleep." She didn't much wish to speak of what was going on upstairs-and only now she thought to wonder who exactly Freas was... well, sharing quarters with. Nerua? No, surely not. Zann had traveled with them both for some time now and had not seen so much as an inkling of any such relationship between those two.
In fact, Nerua was still downstairs, although Zann did not realize until Nerua moved her seat next to Zann's.
"Did she wake you?" Zann looked at her in surprise, but Nerua seemed as unruffled and as ever. "My sympathies. She tends to be loud," Nerua said quietly, her words so incongruous with her demure voice. It was almost amusing.
"...Quite the nuisance, hmm." Zann shrugged a little, as if to express casual disinterest, but grimaced as she gestured for Tomaj. "Something warm. To help me sleep."
"Everybody has urges. She takes her release when she can," Nerua said, shrugging slightly as well. "And she has been quite... unsettled these past few weeks."
If that was Freas's version of unsettled, Zann could hardly imagine what she was like carefree. However, she kept such thoughts to herself. Outwardly, she only said, "I did not say she does not have the right. Only that she has disturbed my sleep in the process."
For a while, Nerua was silent, until she said, smiling mysteriously, "I do not believe you know her as well as she thinks you do."
To Zann, who did not feel as if she knew Freas at all, this felt very much like news. "As well as she thinks I do?"
"She has changed much, but I daresay not quite as much as you might assume. Of course, I do not know very well how she was before she came to Balfonheim, but... well, it is simply an interesting matter. As a spectator, you see."
Zann could not fathom at all what Nerua was going on about. Between her restlessness, the grogginess of sleep that she could not shake, and her irritation at having been driven out of her own bed at this hour, she did not feel at her best in analytical prowess anyway.
"I daresay she will not take too long. A glass of warm milk ought to take up enough of your time, if you only wish to wait until it is quiet again." Nerua smiled lightly and stood, looking down at Zann with an expression that hinted at some well-kept, amusing secret. Zann hated how the Viera made her feel so slow. "Good night, Zann."
"...good night." Zann watched Nerua walk away, her skimpy outfit leaving very little to the imagination as her hips swayed. Realizing she had been staring, she flushed and turned back around in her seat, leaning into the palm of her hand. She must have been even more tired than she'd thought.
Tomaj pushed over a tall mug of milk, and Zann took it absent-mindedly, mulling over the sweet smell and Nerua's cryptic words. Freas had most certainly changed a great deal. If not for her face, Zann was sure she would not have recognized Freas as Lurena at all, from the new, brash way of speaking she had adopted to the change in fighting style her new choice of weapons had brought about. Maybe Nerua was only speaking from some sort of misguided assumption about what Lurena had been like before, when Zann had known her. Lurena had been a young girl who, though sometimes hotheaded and stubborn, adored her unworthy father beyond reason and blushed when Zann so much as patted her shoulder. Generally shy and always earnest, Lurena had been... innocent. That was the only word Zann could think of to describe her properly. Young, innocent, and almost foolishly trusting. Nothing like Freas now.
Still distracted with her own thoughts, Zann took a long sip of her milk. Again, she wondered who Freas had taken to bed. Maybe one of her friends she played card games with down here in the bar. She was always surrounded by men, and surely she could have her pick. She was quite charming, that much Zann could admit. But Zann did not know what kind of preferences Freas had; besides the fact that those could easily have changed since Zann knew her, Lurena had been so secluded, forgotten by her neglectful father and left alone. They had never talked of romances or suitors much, except when they were in fairy tales and old stories. Zann caught herself trying to picture what Freas's lover might look like, and shook her head, clearing those thoughts out rapidly. It was none of her business.
Once she finished her milk, she waited a little longer, to give Freas a little more time to finish her affairs. This sort of arrangement was apparently nothing new, judging from Nerua's comments, and if nothing else, Zann believed her when she said it would not take long. Zann just wanted to sleep again.
When she trudged up the stairs, the door to Freas's room was open, and the light inside on.
"I'll see you some other time, hmm?" she heard Freas say, low and soothing but quite audible through the open door. Someone stumbled backwards out of the room unsteadily, one hand gripping Freas's shirt so that Freas stumbled out too. It was a woman who looked older than Freas and maybe even Zann, tired and worn out like so many of the bar's regulars. "Steady now," Freas murmured, pulling the woman upright.
Zann just stood there at the head of the stairs like a fool.
The woman seemed to notice her and whispered something to Freas, but Zann could not make out what she had said. Freas just smiled and patted the woman's shoulder, turning her towards the stairs with a little push. "Good bye, darling. Thanks." Standing behind the woman, Freas smirked a little at Zann, although Zann could not tell why.
Zann stood aside, letting the woman pass by her, and did not look at Freas as she started to walk towards her own room. Freas's shirt was open, and she wore nothing underneath. Although Zann was no stranger to the naked body of a woman, it still felt quite strange to think of Freas-stubbornly remaining Lurena in Zann's head right now-in such a way.
"I thought you'd gone to bed early. Did I wake you? Quite sorry, didn't mean to," Freas drawled when Zann reached her, attempting to slip by. Freas was not as considerate as Zann when it came to such matters.
Zann only shrugged. "'Tis no business of mine what you do. I would, however, appreciate it if there could be less... banging next time."
Freas chuckled. "Well, but what fun is it without the banging?" Thankfully, however, she turned and stepped back inside her room. "Good night, Zann. Do accept my apologies," she said, and shut the door.
Zann went back to her room and sank into her bed. Her stomach felt full and slightly upset from the milk, although thankfully, the warmth and sluggishness made her feel sleepy as well. She had not considered that Freas would have chosen a woman to-well, but she did not wish to think of it much, and it was over anyway. The sounds of the bar downstairs were almost gone altogether, barely a dull buzz through her door, and the room was otherwise quiet. Zann turned on her side, wrapping one arm around her stomach, and closed her eyes. Soon enough, she fell back asleep.
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