Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Twelve of the Thirteen Espers from Final Fantasy XII.

-

-

-

-

-

-----

TOUYA

-----

Year 706 Old Valendian

Kingdom of Dalmasca - Royal City of Rabanastre

Royal Palace of Rabanastre, The Consul’s Quarters

“And he is certain that the Marquis is the source of the magicite?”

“Yes,” the Judge replies, her voice rough with lack of sleep from the rushed flight, “My own investigations have led me to believe that Judge Arbiter Chisaki receives both the magicite shipments and funding from the Supreme Justice, directly funneled to Draklor.”

Touya hums, deep in thought. “And yet the Resistance forces in Bhujerba remain conspicuously well-funded, no doubt still Sasaki’s work,” he says out loud.

“Lord Shouto seems to be of the same opinion,” the Judge agrees, “He believes the Marquis’ cooperation a cover to turn away Shigaraki’s eyes from him.”

“But the Supreme Justice has a leash on the Marquis all the same.” It sparks a smirk on Touya’s face, “What a worthy opponent that snake is. And what of Shouto? What is the brat even doing in Bhujerba?”

“Snooping around, following threads laid bare, Todorokis hardly know where not to stick their snout into after all,” the Judge sneers at Touya to which he only scoffs, “Last I heard before leaving Bhujerba, the Leviathan had a breach in security. The Senator and his cortege are to be transferred to the Ifrit, which will take them back to Archades safely.”

“Surely you know I could not care less,” Touya says, waving off that last statement.

There is silence following his declaration until the Judge rolls her eyes and clears her throat. “Lord Touya, if I may speak freely,” she hazards.

Touya finds himself snorting, leaning back on his seat. “Please, Rumi, you are my Judge Protector now,” he says, spreading his arm in invitation.

Judge Usagiyama cocks an eyebrow at him. “As if you believe that any more than I do.”

Touya merely shrugs at the truth of it. Judge Protector Rumi Usagiyama is not, strictly speaking, Touya’s assigned Protector after all, much like how the newly inducted Tenya Iida is not actually Shouto’s. As long as Keigo's status officially remains as 'Missing' as opposed to the recovered Tensei Iida's 'Discharged', Touya cannot have a new Protector—refuses to, regardless.

So rearrangements had to be made ever since Gunga and the subsequent fallout, Rumi having to fulfill the role of Protector for two Senators at the behest of the Emperor—himself, and Fuyumi. Shouto, the favored son, gets two in light of Tensei's replacement and Natsuo's defunct senatorship.

He doesn’t like to think about Gunga but often his mind wanders to it still. A massive burned-out hollow in his chest where his heart used to lie, never to be filled again. With the growing unrest amongst the Court of Judges in Archades, he resigned himself to having no confidante or ally when the assignment as Consul came as Rumi stayed behind to keep Fuyumi safe.

Touya is not so defenseless that he cannot fight off any threat to his life after all—Keigo had seen to it that this is so. His lips dip into a frown at the name, a stab to his since ashen emotions he has learned to turn away from.

His Blood hisses at the weakness and forces himself to listen to Rumi, who, despite Touya’s unwavering command that she stay by Fuyumi’s side, had taken it upon herself to act as Touya’s sword and shield—as well as being his eyes and ears in Archades while he is gone. An act, he is sure, she feels she owed their mutual friend now gone.

“I believe we should investigate this leash the Supreme Justice has over Marquis Sasaki,” she continues when he didn’t answer her earlier jab at his emotions, “Unfortunately, I have been chasing this thread of manufacted nethicite to discover more—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Touya interrupts, holding up a hand to cut her off. Rumi glowers at him, clearly pissed. It can’t be helped, Judge Protectors almost always grow with their charges after all, Tomura’s shadow guardian and Tenya Iida being the exception to this rule. Seeing Touya as a wild teenager has grossly decreased Rumi’s respect for him even well into adulthood.

She opens her mouth to retort, words forming in her head in what is most likely a very elaborate insult, a habit she picked up from Fuyumi. Touya tosses her the leather bound missive from the Marquis that sits on his table, cutting off her tirade before it even began.

Rumi scowls at him but catches the letter all the same. Touya watches as she reads through it, her eyes widening at the claims of Marquis Sasaki.

I have captured the escaped Nalbina prisoner, Shouta Aizawa, and his companions. I have delivered them to Judge Tarudo at the Leviathan whom I believe is that best channel to expatriate your escaped convict. I wish you good fortune in the wars to come, Your Grace.

“This–This is—” Rumi stammers, “Gods, and you just told me you’ve caught Mirio Togata in that insurgence attack three nights ago?”

“The game is afoot, Rumi,” Touya hums, enjoying the challenge. The Supreme Justice may be an old, decrepit snake, but he plays this game very well. “He will find me no easy opponent.”

“Why would the Marquis even write to you about this? How do you even know if this is real!”

“The first, I believe, is that our good Marquis took a gamble and placed his bets on me. A wise choice, I must say. As for the second—” Touya is interrupted by loud and brash knocking at the door of his chambers, “Well, we are about to find out.”

He calls out to his coming guest, “Come in, Judge Kyuura.”

-

-

-

-

-

-----

IZUKU

-----

Year 706 Old Valendian

Sky Continent of Dorstonis - Skycity Bhujerba

Private airship docks of the Sasaki Estate

Combat Fighter Class, Model Stone YPA-GB47

Vessel Name: Suneater

On the night of Prince Mirio’s kidnapping

“Umm, excuse me, Leo—I mean, Your Highness, but what are you doing?”

Mirio gives a startled jump at his intrusion, hissing when his knee meets hard metal, before glaring at him. The Prince turns back to the control panel of the Suneater. “I’m going to retrieve the Dawn Shard,” he tells Izuku none too kindly, “I know where it is hidden.”

“Did you... ask Yuugure-san for help?”

Mirio breathes out a heavy, loaded sigh, “Look, I’ll return his airship later, alright?”

“But—”

“Hush Izuku! I’m trying to concentrate!”

“That’s quite enough, Your Majesty,” Marquis Sasaki’s voice comes from behind. Both of them startle and turn around in fear only to see Yuugure, his violet eyes in plain view with his hood down and the absence of his visor.

“What the—” Mirio stammers, “How dare you? What is that—"

“A useful tool,” Yuugure interrupts. The device turns green again as he activates it. This time, Mirio’s voice comes out of the ship’s speakers. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Whoa…” Izuku blinks in wonder. Yuugure gives him a side glance before turning back to Mirio, “You’re stealing my ship.”

Mirio stands up in sudden fury, stalking up to Yuugure, prompting Izuku to sit down at one of the chairs to avoid the Prince’s wrath. “You don’t understand what’s at stake here!” Mirio grits out at him.

“Maybe,” Yuugure shrugs, turning away from Mirio’s intensity, “You should stay with the Marquis.”

“I will not be made to hide! I have to keep fighting for all who have fallen because of Archadia. I will fight alone if I must!”

Well. This was going really fantastic, Izuku yawns. And here he was hoping to take a long night’s rest before Yuugure takes him and Kacchan back to Rabanastre tomorrow. Instead, something woke him up in the middle of the night. Instinct led him to the Suneater where he now has to witness Mirio and Yuugure continue their bickering. The sound of their voices lull him as he slowly drifts off to sleep in the cabin of the airship, the Prince’s words drifting into his consciousness.

I have to keep fighting for all who have fallen because of Archadia.

That’s nice, Izuku thinks. If only he could as well, to avenge his mother, Aunt Mitsuki, and Uncle Masaru. The pang of homesickness for Fort Takoba crushes his chest in a way that has become familiar in the last two years.

You can, his Blood whispers, Help him.

Izuku sits up straight with a start. Mirio and Yuugure stop their argument with his sudden movement but he doesn’t pay them any attention. I can, he repeats to himself, I can avenge mom, and Aunt Mitsuki, and Uncle Masaru, and Fort Takoba.

“Izuku,” Yuugure calls out to him, “Are you alright?”

He nods slowly before turning back to them. “What if…” he begins slowly, “You,” he points at Yuugure, before shifting to Mirio, “Kidnap him?”

Mirio stands back from Yuugure in consideration while the sky pirate scoffs. “What does he have that I would want?”

“The Dynast-King’s treasure,” Mirio murmurs, “The Dawn Shard is but one of the riches awaiting in the Millenium Tomb.”

There is a low whistle and Yuugure turns aside to see Nejire at the hatch to the Suneater. “The Dynast-King,” she mumbles sleepily, “That’s got to be worth a looooot, Yuu-chan!” She turns aside and Aizawa comes through, “See! I told you they’re here!”

“Kidnapping royalty is a serious offense,” Aizawa says instead, “It won’t do well to lessen the bounty on both your heads.”

Nejire grins at him, “And how much is the bounty on your head wraithman?”

Aizawa scowls at the nickname but is pushed aside harshly when Kacchan enters the Suneater. “What the hell, Shittyku!” he growls, red eyes pinning Izuku down even as he slinks to hide behind the chair in the cabin, “Were you just planning to leave me here?!”

Yuugure groans, “We are not—”

“Yes, we are,” Nejire chirps brightly, unminding of Aizawa’s displeased scowl.

“Nejire…”

“Why not?” Mirio speaks up again. This time he stands straighter, brow raised in challenge as he keeps his gaze on Yuugure, “You’re a sky pirate aren’t you? Then steal me. Or is that too much to ask?”

Yuugure turns away quickly with a scowl, before pushing past Mirio to sit in the pilot’s chair. “Be careful what you wish for, Your Highness,” he mumbles grumpily as he puts his hood up. He turns back to Izuku, with a glare, “I blame you, little cactite.”

Izuku grins unrepentant just as Nejire walks past them to help Yuugure power up the Suneater. “Let’s go then before the Marquis knows we got the lion prince—”

“The what?”

“Like proper kidnappers!”

-

-

Year 706 Old Valendian

Jagd Yensa

Ogir-Yensa Sandsea

The time they’ve spent at the Ogir-Yensa was rough, what with the sudden appearance of the Urutan-Yensa natives who like to be aggressive with trespassers. They could not take the Suneater across the sandsea, not when skystones fail in the thick mists of Jagd Yensa that span western Ordalia until the border of Rozarria, and had to leave it behind at the Westersand border of Dalmasca. Yuugure’s mechanics headed by Nono ensured that the Suneater would not be touched by activating a cloaking mechanism before they headed back to Rabanastre on foot.

It was a difficult trek through the Jagd, to be sure, brought about by not only the fierce locals, but by the fiends twisted by the thick mist as well. Worse, there should be another length of sandsea they had to cross before reaching the Valley of Victory where the Dynast-King’s Millennium Tomb lies.

Lucky enough, the Mist had not been as thick as the one in Shie Hassaikai if Aizawa is to be believed, and the abundance of Mist allows for powerful magick with less strain as well, granting the primary mages of their party stupendous fighting and healing ability. Kacchan has literally been going feral with glee, something Nejire endlessly encouraged.

After four days, they would have made it to the Nam-Yensa sandsea by nightfall but an unfortunate encounter with a wyvern earlier that afternoon had them setting up camp sooner than expected.

Aizawa had managed to catch a large Yensa sandfish which they were now roasting over the fire. Mirio made the call to stay on one of the expanded areas of the refineries dotting the sandsea. The titanic giants are huge sprawling hume-made structures intended to dig for oil. Built by Rozarria, Izuku knew, abandoned long ago for reasons that are quickly becoming apparent each day they travel through the area.

Unfortunately, setting up camp earlier means they all have to endure the awkward silence that descends upon them when there’s a lull in the fighting, blessedly rare enough during the day, usually avoidable at night when everyone is tired and eager to rest. Mirio had a lot to talk about with Aizawa he knew, while the sky pirates usually kept to themselves even though Nejire more often than not stayed by his side. It makes Izuku restless because the only person he can talk to is hardly good for conversation.

Besides, Izuku’s not ready for a talk with Kacchan if the way he glared at Maito’s sword was any indication. Nejire, Maiden bless her soul, seems to pick up on his restlessness.

“So, wild chocobo,” she says, looking at Kacchan as she cleans her daggers, “You’re a good fighter, where’d you learn?”

“Of course, I’m a good fighter,” his cousin snorts, “Especially compared to Shittyku he—wait a fucking minute, what did you just call me?”

Izuku had to giggle at that, prompting Kacchan to glare at him hard enough to murder. “Like you’re one to talk, little cactite.”

“Hey! It’s cute!” Nejire protests.

“Be thankful you’re not a wraithman, troublemaker,” Aizawa cuts in, cutting off a piece of fish meat and handing it to Mirio who flinches.

“Was it that bad?” the prince asks softly.

Aizawa doesn’t answer, to spare his liege the horror. Nejire on the other hand—“Oh no, it was worse.”

“Nejire,” Yuugure speaks up for the first time, shaking his head at Nejire’s pout.

“Well, it’s true,” she sulks as she accepts Izuku’s offer of fish meat.

Aizawa only sighs as he sits down with his own supper. He looks over to Mirio when the prince wraps a hand around his arm. “Tell me,” he asks softly.

The knight gives a sidelong glance to Izuku and Katsuki which the latter scoffs at, as if wary of telling children war stories. “Do I have to remind you that we’re Nabradians?” Kacchan asks sarcastically.

“Ah, but it doesn’t mean you have to tell us Aizawa-san, of course,” Izuku protests nervously.

“I’m actually curious as well,” Yuugure cuts in through Izuku’s nervous ramblings.

“Yuugure-san!”

“Oh! Hey, I wanna know too!” Nejire pipes in, setting her daggers and dinner aside to pay attention.

Aizawa looks at all them around the fire before he gives in with a sigh, running through his hair, freed from its tie in the cold of the desert night.

“The truth is,” Aizawa begins, stopping Izuku’s protests, “I don’t know either. The clearest thing I remember of that night in Nabudis was the light and the force of the magick from the airship that suddenly appeared over Shie Hassaikai.”

“The deathbringer Mist,” Kacchan huffs.

The knight nods at him. “We couldn’t escape, although we tried. Myself, Shirakumo, Yagi, and the Nabradian commander. Lady Bakugou.”

Izuku swears he felt himself stop breathing at the same time Kacchan hisses in a breath beside him. He knows the story by now after all, Maito telling him the truth of that night two years ago. But for Kacchan, this is the first time he’s heard of it. Aizawa pays them no mind as he continues to be lost in his memories while he tells his story.

“I remember falling. From exhaustion, or a misstep, I cannot say. The last thing I remember is Shirakumo yelling and running back towards me, his weight over my back as the light overtook us and then…”

Aizawa shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “The next thing I knew, I was chained in Nalbina, drained and weak. One of the Judges was there, I can’t remember now who it was, told me about Shirakumo, Yagi, and…” he looks at Mirio, “You. The Surrender of Dalmasca. I remember giving up. But the guards at Nalbina will not allow me my death. It wasn’t until we went to Bhujerba that I figured out why.”

“To keep Uncle Sasaki on a leash,” Mirio murmurs before his fists clench at his sides, “The Empire’s malice knows no bounds.”

Aizawa nods but otherwise remains silent. It was Yuugure who spoke next, “You’re lucky then.”

“I’m sorry,” Aizawa says in angry disbelief, “Did you say I was lucky?”

Yuugure looks him straight in the eye. “You survived the deathbringer Mist,” he points out flatly, “If Chisaki ever found that out, he’d already had you carted off to Draklor to study.”

Izuku looks at Yuugure in undisguised horror. He thinks of Maito in hiding in Rabanastre and finds himself thankful that he’d kept Maito’s existence a secret. There was a loud bang against the metal, causing him to jump. Mirio’s punch had dented the metal with the force.

“That bastard,” Mirio spits out, venom in every syllable, “One of these days, I swear I will make him pay.”

“He is a monster, that’s for sure,” Yuugure says quietly, a haunted look in his eyes, “But the fact that he didn’t know about Aizawa, could only mean that there are other forces at play here.”

“So the Archadian Senator was right?” Mirio asks.

“Shouto Todoroki, yes,” Yuugure confirms, “Seems to be doing some digging of his own. The Emperor’s sons are hardly known for following their father after all.” The sky pirate frowns as he considers Aizawa, “From the fact that you, the only survivor of the Mist, are here and not in Archades means that this other player may have a stronger hold than the head scientist of Draklor and the most noble family in Archadia.”

“You seem suspiciously well-informed about this,” Aizawa drawls, a spark of challenge in his eyes.

The sky pirate shrugs it off. “Archades thrives on gossip and intrigue,” he says flatly, “I would not have survived this long if I didn’t listen to the whispers and we will not either if we don’t ask around.” Yuugure looks at Katsuki then, “Did Shouto Todoroki tell you anything?”

Kacchan catches the sky pirate’s eyes across the fire before his face goes into a scowl and he turns away. A tell Izuku has been familiar with since they were children. “He didn’t say anything,” Kacchan answers, as if being angrily reminded of his captivity. Izuku knows better. He’s lying.

Oh Kacchan, what are you hiding?

He’s been wondering about it for a while now why Shouyo-san–or Shouto Todoroki, that is–let Kacchan go. He supposes there really wasn’t any reason for Kacchan to stay with him but for some reason, Kacchan’s evasion on the matter is very suspicious. Wow, Kacchan spent at least an entire day with an Archadian Senator, the thought almost giving him a heart attack. Wait. Izuku can’t believe he’d talked so casually with an Archadian Senator for that matter.

Around the campfire, silence falls upon the group at the revelations, unminding of the inner turmoil in Izuku’s thoughts which now spiral wildly through the implications of what he’s learned tonight—barring the sudden realization that Kacchan had survived being in close quarters with basically what is Archadian Royalty and didn’t kill said royalty.

First, the fact Touya Todoroki was indeed sent to Rabanastre to be away from Archades, meaning he is viewed as a threat by the people in power at the Imperial Capital. Which begs the question of why Shouto Todoroki is endangering himself going about Ivalice without an escort. Is he spying for his older brother? Izuku chances a glance at his cousin who remains silent. He has a feeling that the puzzle of the Todoroki family is something only Kacchan’s secrets can solve.

Second, the traitor Kai Chisaki is working for the Empire at this place called Draklor Laboratories. It seems prudent to surmise that the deathbringer Mist from Shie Hassaikai was his work then. Izuku frowns. That Chisaki could deign to destroy his own home—the man truly is a monster. Unfortunately, it still doesn’t answer the mystery of where Princess Eri Chisaki is, if she is even still alive.

Third, there is another, unseen enemy. The enemy that now holds the Dusk Shard which should have been proof that the Prince of Dalmasca is alive and the Surrender of Dalmasca was a sham orchestrated by the Empire. The same enemy tied Marquis Sasaki’s hands by dangling the safety of Dalmasca and her people as some kind of bargain in return for what was supposed to be a simple announcement.

This same enemy controls Kai Chisaki, if they’d managed to keep the man in the dark about Aizawa. The enemy can also manipulate the Court of Judges, if they can have Touya Todoroki, the First Senator and heir-apparent to the throne, sent away via appointment.

The blood in his veins makes him shiver in sudden cold dread pouring down his back. Who is this enemy?

Dangerous, Izuku.

He blinks at the sudden warning in his head. He knows he’s always had good intuition but the voice speaking warnings in his mind is relatively new. Huh.

It’s Kacchan who eventually cuts through the silence. “My mother taught me how to fight,” he murmurs quietly.

“Kacchan…” Izuku tries to stop him from revealing more if it makes him uncomfortable. The blonde only rolls his eyes at him before turning to Nejire, who points a finger at herself in confusion.

“Your question, earlier,” his cousin clarifies, “She died that night, because of what happened at Shie Hassaikai. I’ve been working as a hunter since then, building on what she’d taught me.”

Aizawa looks at Katsuki in morose disbelief, “Your mother? Was she…?”

“The Lord of Fort Takoba,” Katsuki corrects Aizawa’s statement earlier, “Mitsuki Bakugou.”

“I—” Aizawa stammers, “I’m sorry.”

Katsuki only scoffs and waves the apology away harshly. “I’ve had enough of people telling me they’re sorry,” he hisses, “My mother and father are dead, period. And I will see the Empire burn for what they did to us. If it means going on this wretched adventure with you, then I’ll do it gladly.”

His cousin stands up, dusting off the sand from his trousers. “Kacchan,” Izuku tries again reaching out for his sleeve but Katsuki only tsks and pulls his arm away.

“I’ll be taking first watch,” he says as he grabs his sword that Izuku is sure belonged to Shouto Todoroki, like the rest of his well-made outfit, and stalks away from the fire.

It’s Mirio who breaks the silence next. “I shouldn’t have started this conversation,” he says softly, “My apologies, Izuku.”

Izuku shakes his head. “No…” he reassures the Prince, his voice trailing off, “It’s fine. He’ll come back.”

“We should get some rest,” Yuugure suggests, lowering the intensity of their fire with a little bit of blizzard magick. Everyone in the circle agrees, just as Aizawa stands up saying he’ll take first watch with Katsuki.

For once, Izuku doesn’t argue and tells himself to get some sleep. Kacchan always comes back after all.

-

-

Year 706 Old Valendian

Jagd Yensa

Nam-Yensa Sandsea

“Hey, Inasa, don’t you think we should, like, help him out or something?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Camie!! He looks dead already!!”

“Uh, I don’t think so? He’s still breathing, here, see?”

Izuku blinks because the sandsea must definitely be playing tricks on him. At the distance, beside a chocobo harmlessly snacking on some gysahl greens, is a pair of travelers dressed in protective desert wear - which was definitely more than Izuku can say about his own shirt and waistcoat. They were huddled together, looking at something in the shade of a sheer cliff. There’s a dark hole on the cliff right beside them. A cave?

“Eek! Hey mister, it’s rude to grab ladies, ya know?” the lady shrieks at their unseen conversation partner.

“Oh!!!!! He really is still alive, Camie!!!”

“I mean, duh, I told you so.”

“Um, Aizawa-san?” Izuku says, tugging at Aizawa’s sleeve, concerned now, “There’s something…”

Aizawa gives the pair over at the shade a look as they pass by before paying them no mind. “Merchants,” Aizawa shrugs before continuing in a low voice, “If we’re lucky.”

“If we’re lucky?” Izuku squeaks.

“The Millennium Tomb’s location isn’t exactly a secret you know,” Aizawa murmurs, “Treasure hunters and sky pirates have always tried their luck in that place.”

A gravelly voice carries through the hot wind as they pass, “Miss, I just need to ask a question.”

“Dude, that’s totes okay, so just like, chill. No grabbing.”

“That means you can ask us anything Mister Zombie!!!”

Izuku stops. He knows that voice. But where? In contrast, Aizawa had already frozen stiff before stomping to the couple by the cliff.

“Hey, wait, Aizawa-san!” Izuku calls out to the knight who doesn’t pay attention to him. The rest of their party does though and they stop to walk back to where Izuku stands confused.

“What happened?” Mirio asks but Izuku just shrugs helplessly at the question. Aizawa by now had caught up to the travelers at the cliff.

“Um, and who are you?” the lady asks.

“Stand back Camie!!”

The knight only gives them a cursory nod, lifting his hands in a universal gesture meant to indicate no harm, before zeroing in on the crumpled heap on the sand floor. Izuku finally realizes the curled up shape is actually a hume man. “Stand up, Akaguro,” Aizawa says, kicking at the heap.

“Akaguro!” Mirio exclaims at the name, running to where Aizawa stood with the couple.

Kacchan raises an eyebrow at him before Izuku shrugs again and follows Mirio.

“We’ll scout ahead to find someplace to camp,” Nejire calls out to him, “Sun’s getting real low!”

Izuku waves goodbye at them before Kacchan also turns heel and says, “I’ll be with the undead pirate and the tall chick.”

“Alright. Be careful, Kacchan.”

“Say that to my face again Shittyku and I’ll skin you alive with that fancy ass sword of yours.”

Izuku gulps before nodding nervously. Kacchan gives him an irritated huff before he ruffles Izuku’s hair in some weird affectionate gesture and trails after the sky pirates.

When he’s nearby the people gathered around Akaguro, he noticed the pair had already stepped back to allow Aizawa and Mirio to be closer to the other knight. He can catch glimpses of their conversation—

...okay?—went through the caverns—you’re insane, you know—ever told you you’re a dick?—please stop—weren’t in Bhujerba—wanted to—

Assured that Akaguro isn’t dying anytime soon, he turns to the other occupants of the sandsea he’s seen so far that hadn’t attacked them on sight. The lady is tall, with mirthful black eyes framed by prominent lashes and kohl, some of her sandy blonde locks escaping from her desert cap, her scarf pulled low around her neck. Her partner was even taller, stockily built and armed with a cocky smile and a wicked looking greatsword at his side.

“Yo!” the man greets, “You friends with these other people here?”

“Umm, yes, hello! My name is Izuku, you are?”

“How cute! I’m Camie! And this is my partner, Inasa!” the lady grins at him, “Your friend must have been separated from you, poor thing. Found him dehydrated, had to give him potions and healing magick A-S-A-P before the other beasts found him, ya feel?”

“Ahhh Camie!! We have to find camp soon, too!!”

“Can’t we just like, make camp here?”

“Of course not!!! See that cave? That probably leads to Zertinan Caverns!!”

“Excuse me,” Mirio interrupts them, “But I heard you’re looking for a place to camp? Might you want to stay with us for the night?”

“Awww, you’re so sweet!” Camie gushes, “You sure about that, love?”

“We owe you for saving our… comrade,” Aizawa says to which Mirio rolls his eyes and Akaguro scoffs at his hesitation.

“Ohhhhh!!!!!” Inasa yells before he bends his body forward, his head crashing to the ground with the force, “Thank you kind sir!!!!”

When he straightens up, his forehead is bleeding making Izuku wince but Inasa himself doesn’t seem to notice. “Umm, let me just,” Izuku tugs at his sleeve, his other hand glowing with a Cure spell. The shallow gash easily heals from his touch.

“Camie!!” Inasa says passionately, “We found some really good people!!!”

Akaguro just sighs tiredly where he’s being half-supported by Aizawa, “Can we just go?”

“Right!” Izuku says, getting pretty overwhelmed by Inasa’s volume right now, “Uhhh, Kacchan and the others headed this way.”

-

-

If Izuku thought the awkwardness two nights ago was bad, right now, with three other people in their camp, it’s downright unbearable. Whoever said the more the merrier obviously never had to deal with total opposite strangers.

Akaguro and Aizawa glowered at each other across the fire, Mirio painstakingly trying to keep the peace between them.

Nejire had not left his side, something about her stance tells Izuku she’s wary about the pair from earlier. Strangely enough, his Blood is quiet in their presence so he’s pretty confident that they’re not a threat. Well, to him at least. Camie and Inasa seemed to have made it their mission to annoy the heck out of Kacchan.

“These are some really fancy clothes for an adventurer!!”

“I told you, someone let me borrow it, you loudmouth giant!!”

“But like, even your sword is fancy, yeah? High quality grade steel, and that pommel,” she whistles lowly, “Paramina sapphires? Rare and expensive! You some kind of prince, handsome?”

“Leave me alone you damn witch!!”

Yuugure sighs on Izuku’s other side. “You know a lot about quality materials,” he points out, apparently taking pity on his harassed cousin, but Izuku can hear the underlying suspicion.

“Well, we are adventurers, yakno?” Camie grins, winking at him, “Kinda like what you and the horned babe here are up to.”

“Excuse me?” Nejire hisses at her.

“So,” Yuugure frowns, “You know who we are.”

Camie points at Yuugure and his partner. “Well, we know you and Nejire,” she smiles, “Fancy seeing you here in some highborn company, eh, sky pirate?”

Aizawa sighs from across the fire. “Who are you, really.”

“We’re humble adventurers sir!!!” Inasa practically howls, “We visit ancient sites and—”

“Defile and pillage them like the thieves you are?” Akaguro spits out at them.

“Hey now, that’s not nice, zombieman!” Camie says, lifting her hand to her chest in exaggerated shock, “We did save your life!”

Akaguro glares at her while Camie just pouts innocently at him, her eyes full off–in Kacchan terms–literal chocobo shit.

“Umm,” Izuku dares to interrupt, “You didn’t say no…”

“We don’t like to lie, cactite boy!!!”

“Cacti—what?”

“So you are tomb raiders,” Yuugure finished for all of them, “Headed to the Valley of Victory?”

“Artifact seekers," Camie corrects without missing a beat. "Also, hell no,” she dismissed with a wave, “Valley of Victory? More like, Valley of the Dead. We’re headed to some nicer pyramids at the edge of Rozarria.”

“What’s wrong with the Valley of Victory?” Mirio asks, sitting up.

Camie looks at him for a long moment before her lips spread in an amused smile. “Why are you headed thatta way then if you know the stories?”

“You know the legends about the Millennium Tomb?”

“Camie knows a lot of stories!! Especially the really old ones, that other people don’t know! It’s how we know where to go!” Inasa butts in.

“Well I know some of it,” Mirio sulks quietly. Aizawa gives him a supportive pat on his shoulder.

“Can you tell us?” Izuku asks timidly, “The story of the Valley of Victory? There’s not much about it in the books...”

Camie hums, tapping her finger against her chin. “Well, there’s a lot of stories about the Valley of Victory, yakno? It is where the Dynast-King defeated the Knight King and ended the Long Night, after all.”

“Oooh, tell us about the treasure!” Nejire says excitedly, her prior animosity gone in the face of childlike curiosity.

“Well now that, I can oblige,” Camie says with a wink. She settles beside the fire and begins her tale.

-

-

-

Long ago, at the dawn of the Galtean Alliance, the Dynast-King united all nations of Ivalice to bring down the tyrant Knight who rose to become King and wished to rule over all its people. The gods heard this noble cause and as aid, gifted the Dynast-King three artifacts of great power, cut off a slumbering star, the mother of all magicite—bright Sun-Cryst, across the ocean, in tower built on distant shores it sleeps.

These artifacts would be known by the names of the Dawn Shard, the Midlight Shard, and the Dusk Shard, heeding only the will of the Blood come from the Dynast-King. With their light, the great Dynast-King of Millennia vanquished the Long Night that threatens Ivalice, and in time, built the kingdom at the heart of the Galtean Alliance—jewel of the desert, Dalmasca.

Fearing that the power of the shards will be used in malice, the Dynast-King separated each shard from their brethren.

One, remains with Dalmasca as part of its Holy Relics, the proof of the Blood of Kings which cannot be denied, its protection a noble burden the Royal House of Dalmasca shall bear for eternity—a burden now lost to the annals of time.

The second, entrusted to the protection of the Order of Shie Hassaikai, honorable warriors who wander the lands of Nabradia, scattered to the wind, like lightning ne’er to be found in the same place and now… never to be found again.

And the last, on the Dynast-King’s deathbed, the Dawn Shard was willed be buried inside the Millennium Tomb, at the site of the Dynast-King’s greatest victory, where both master and power sleep. There, they are guarded by the Dynast-King’s greatest treasure—the High Seraph who shall herald Eschaton, the end of times.

Only those with proof of the Dynast-King’s Blood shall be suffered within and those not of the Blood who dare disturb the Dynast-King’s sleep will know only pain and despair.

-

-

-

“...or that’s what the stories say anyway,” Camie says.

Izuku is stunned still by the cadence of Camie’s voice, so different from her conversation tone. He’s heard of people like her, of course. Bards. Wandering  scholarly minstrels who know and tell Ivalice’s tales and legends, sent as emissaries to teach history by the priestesses at the Stilshrine of Miriam. They are very rare, one arriving at Fort Takoba ages ago had been a great deal. But Camie seems to have left that life behind to go treasure hunting instead. It still makes her a wonderful storyteller though.

“That’s why we’re not going there! We don’t have proof of King’s Blood!” Inasa finishes for her with a small nod.

“You mean having the King’s Blood is not enough?” Yuugure asks.

“Well, assuming you have the Blood of Kings,” Camie answers, looking at Kacchan thoughtfully who just snorts, “The stories do strictly say proof of King’s Blood. History can be pretty weird like that, ya feel? But! There is always some truth to the stories, yeah?”

“Huh,” Yuugure says thoughtfully, sending Mirio a sidelong glance.

The Prince frowns at him, “There are riches long been laid to rest from the time of the Galtean Alliance. Not only the Dawn Shard but the Dynast-King’s treasure lies within.”

“Hmmm, actually—”

“I think it’s time to turn in for the night,” Mirio hurriedly cuts in, interrupting Camie.

“Oh, yeah,” Inasa yawns, “Camie and I have to head out extra early tomorrow!”

“Camie-san,” Izuku mumbles sleepily, “Thank you for the story.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Camie replies, endeared, grinning at Nejire over Izuku’s head, “Have soft dreams, yeah?”

“I’ll take first watch,” Yuugure says as he stands up, “Chocobo?”

“Call me that again and I’ll kill you.”

-

-

Izuku wakes to Aizawa’s gentle prodding.

“Problem child, your turn to take watch, Nejire’s already awake.”

“...’kay.” Izuku lets out a big yawn before he stands up to find his sword. He passes by Mirio and Akaguro softly conversing by the fire.

“Have you found it? A way to restore Dalmasca?” Mirio asks the knight.

Akaguro nods gravely. “I have.”

“Then—!”

“Hush now,” Akaguro tells him, “The Dawn Shard is still our priority. It all starts with that.”

Izuku doesn’t hear what Mirio answers back as the wind carries their voices away from him. He steps beside Nejire who smiles brightly at him before facing the other direction. Izuku contents himself with going through the spells he knows as he watches for any threats to their camp.

Barely a fortnight ago, he had been hunting sewer rats in Rabanastre’s waterways and now… He’s gotten into the Royal Palace, escaped the Empire’s dungeon in Nalbina, traveled with sky pirates to the floating continent, rescued his cousin, escaped the Empire again, and now travelling west through Jagd country with a prince, two knights, two sky pirates, and Kacchan towards the fabled Valley of Victory.

Izuku should be scared, he knows. He’s just a simple boy caught in the life of the officially dead Prince Mirio Togata of Dalmasca. But isn’t this what he’s been training for all along? To hunt in the desert? To help ease Maito’s burden?

To fight the Empire.

Well, Izuku frowns, there’s that, too. But he thinks the experience from this journey will be nigh invaluable—and he’s relieved Kacchan is here, too. He’s glad he’d sent word to Maito via Yuugure’s moogles for when they arrive at Rabanastre. At least that’s one thing off his mind.

“Psst, cactite boy!”

Izuku blinks out of his musings and looks back to see Inasa waving him towards his and Camie’s side of the camp. He looks at Nejire who gives him an encouraging smile. “Go!” she shoos him away, before he walks up to the two other adventurers.

“Hey!” Inasa greets as he hauls the rest of their packs on their chocobo, “We know you’re headed to the Valley of Victory, right? Well, there’s supposed to be some beast nesting at the entrance to it now.”

“B-b–beast? ”

“Shhh!” Camie scolds him with a giggle, “We don’t know for sure, but information is pretty important in our line of business, ya feel? So here, have a little gift.”

“Uhh… thanks?”

Inasa laughs heartily at his confusion. “Eksir berries, that. Alluring to flying beasts but poisonous to them still.” He winks at Izuku, gesturing to the fruit on his hand, “Before we found your zombie friend, we helped out a moogle who thought we were headed there and gave these to us as a reward. Since we aren’t headed the same way, might be helpful to you instead.”

“Oh, okay,” Izuku smiles at them brightly, “Thank you! I wish you joyous paths in the flower roads ahead.” The greeting is a formal one, he knows, but if Camie is indeed a bard, then she would appreciate it deeply.

Camie pinches his cheek, “You! Are! So! Cute! Don’t be a stranger, alright?” She smiles at him warmly as she finishes the send-off, “At winter’s end, when the blushing trees bloom, we shall meet again.”

Inasa nods at him as he pulls the chocobo with Camie in it. “Well then, don’t let the Angel of Death at the Millennium Tomb beat you up too much, eh? Tell your friends thank you for us.”

Izuku waves them off happily as they disappear further in the fog that covers the sandsea in the early mornings.

Wait. Angel of Death?!

-

-

-

-

-

-----

MIRIO

-----

Year 706 Old Valendian

Jagd Yensa - Valley of Victory

The Millennium Tomb

The bard and her companion were not kidding about the dangers that lay ahead of them when they entered the Valley of Victory. Immediately upon crossing the threshold of the gorge that housed the Millennium Tomb, a garuda sweeps down and almost makes a meal out of Mirio, if not for the timely intervention of his knights and, of all people, Izuku.

He’d been given eksir berries by the traveling pair who advised him to use it against the beast that nested in the Valley, Izuku explained through his trembling after the garuda lay lifeless on the ground. Mirio only sighed, thankful at least that they hadn’t incurred major injuries at the onset.

Entering the Tomb was relatively easy, only a waystone to power with Mist, sufficiently provided by himself, Nejire, and Katsuki. But that was probably where all their luck had run out. Upon entering the Millenium Tomb, they were beset by moving killer walls–twice–who cast Doom indiscriminately, risen ghouls and fiends, sentient crystals of all things, bats, flans, and whatnot.

“Well they did warn us we ‘will know only pain and despair,'” Yuugure sighs where he reloads his shotgun ahead of Mirio.

“But think of the prize,” Mirio counters quickly. Too quickly. Damn. He cannot let Yuugure know the truth of the Dynast-King’s treasure, especially since the bard almost exposed the truth to them that night.

The sky pirate cocks an eyebrow at his eagerness, the suspicion in his eyes easy to see in the light of magickal torches still aflame thanks to the Mist flowing throughout the Tomb.

“That doesn’t mean we are guaranteed to make it out alive, of course,” Mirio recovers quickly—what am I saying? “Vicious beasts, fiendish traps… stuff like that.”

Yuugure turns away with a shrug, uncaring. “I never said I thought this would be easy,” the sky pirate says, moving to stand by his partner viera.

Mirio sighs in relief, grateful that they at least continue to move through the Tomb without more mishaps other than enemies to defeat. Someone, however, clearly wasn’t as relieved as he was. He didn't have to turn to see the scowl on Akaguro’s face—the low growling and cursing beneath his breath were giveaway indicators that all was not well with the knight.

"What is it?" Mirio finally gives in with a tired smile.

To his credit, Akaguro actually looks startled and sheepish. It doesn’t last long however. The knight casts a scornful glance towards the pair of sky pirates scanning the Millennium Tomb before turning away to the other direction with a grimace.

“It pains me,” he admits, “To stand back and watch them pillage so solemn a place.”

“Yet, without help, you and I are as good as nothing. Is this not so?” Mirio replies. He turns to look at Yuugure, “Do not worry about the sky pirates, they think only ever think of their profit. Assure him of it, and he will follow.”

“I do not share Your Majesty’s trust.”

“And neither should you,” Aizawa interjects as he steps up to Mirio’s other side, “But take my word that Yuugure is a man worthy of it.”

Akaguro scowls at him but says nothing more, causing Mirio to smile slightly. There is little more that Mirio would want other than restoring Dalmasca and freeing it from the clutches of the Empire. But one of these is his very vain hope, so far, that Akaguro–his guardian since the Fall of Nabudis–and Aizawa, one of his closest knights, would get along.

He will need both of their support to rule his kingdom. He would love nothing more than to do it without constantly checking if they hadn’t murdered each other yet.

“For now, at least, they are of great help. After all, as you said,” Mirio turns to Akaguro, “Finding the Dawn Shard is our utmost concern.”

He steps ahead of them. The smell of thick Mist is overpowering inside the Tomb, despite the ever permeating stench of stale air, dust, and decay. Strong magicks are bound and at work here, as is expected of the Tomb of the Dynast-King. Gooseflesh rises in his skin as his Blood hums in recognition, the feeling similar to coming home. Proof of lineage he may not have, his Blood remains that of the Dynast-King’s all the same.

“It sleeps, deep within,” he says, as if in a trance, “Lying in wait.”

“How can you be so sure?” Aizawa asks, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Mirio smiles. His Blood has not stopped beckoning him forward ever since they got through that first waystone. “I can hear its call.”

-

-

Hark, o pilgrim, in vigilance, prevail thy peace

     Be known thus to thy presence

     Grand Uniter doth dwell with’n

Eternal unbroken slumber,

     Dynast-King rewarded rest,

     Boon for peace hath bring

Blood of blood

     Shall entrance gran’d

     With Shard given due

Lest trespasser deign

     Be unwanted guest,

High Seraph’s cry wilt life undo

“Well, that’s cheery,” Nejire chirps after she finishes reading the carved glyphs on the arch of the ancient door. Yuugure grunts and steps closer. The door glares a glaring red.

“Definitely Galtean,” the sky pirate says as he steps back, and the door quiets again, “Similar to the one in Nalbina.”

“Then King’s Blood?” Aizawa asks, a strain to his voice Mirio can detect easily. The same door must have kept him locked away in Nalbina. Rage fills him easily at the knowledge.

Yuugure nods, “Most likely.” He turns to Mirio, “Time to know if you really are the prince.”

“How dare you?” Akaguro snaps at him but Mirio only shakes his head at his knight. This is the right way he can tell, his blood is practically singing, echoing the magick swirling at the door even at this distance.

Yuugure steps back to let Mirio through. Unlike with the sky pirate, the door glows a brilliant yellow. Mirio lays a hand on it, the magick calling to him. “Then perhaps the bard was indeed wrong,” he murmurs, heady with the feeling of Mist.

“I wouldn’t discount it,” Yuugure warns, “There are truths to every story.”

“Proof of Blood,” Mirio echoes from Camie’s words that night, “And the High Seraph who will herald Eschaton.” He steps back and considers the door in front of him, a memory whispering to him from years ago. “My family tells a story of an Angel of Death, sworn to the service of the Dynast-King after it had been defeated in battle. Thereafter, it was bound to the Blood in thralldom.”

“An Esper then,” Nejire says thoughtfully, a little distracted, “The nu mou tell a legend. In vainglory they arose, shouting challenges at the Eidolons of lore, but prevail they did not. It is their doom to serve as equals to hume and beastkind, passed only from master to master or cursed to walk the Mist as they return to the Gods they scorned if freed by their master’s death.”

He nods, “Yes, that is what my mother told me. And yet, not one of our House has summoned the Esper before.”

“Regardless, we have a door and we have a key,” Yuugure interrupts, moving closer to Mirio, “The Dynast-King is long dead, the Esper must have been freed of its service eons ago.”

Mirio turns back when Akaguro gives a yelp of alarm only to see Yuugure pointing a dagger at him, one of Nejire’s. Before he can react, the sky pirate flips the blade in his hand, offering it to him handle first.

“After you, my lord?” Yuugure says as he gestures with his head towards the door.

The words send a warm shiver down his spine and he takes the dagger to hide it quickly. The Mist is making him sensitive, and hopes he can hide the trembling of his hands caused by Yuugure’s words. He grips the handle tightly and without ceremony, cuts a line across his palm, similar to how his father had done it so many times before.

For a brief moment, as he watches his blood pools in his palm, he makes eye contact with Akaguro who only turns away. They’ve had this discussion many times before, about the Oath, and Mirio is sure that once he has the Dawn Shard, he will have this conversation with Akaguro again. But this is neither the place, nor the time.

Here, Mirio will have to prove his identity, to whatever guardian his ancestor had left behind in this strongly magickally bound temple.

With renewed resolve, he steps closer to the door that glows bright in his presence again. He presses his bleeding hand to it and the markings shine a blinding white, starting from where his hand contacts the stone. There is a loud rumbling and a creak as the door opens slowly, but surely.

A handkerchief is shoved in his line of sight, handed by Yuugure who isn’t looking at him. Mirio accepts it gratefully as he hands the soiled dagger to Nejire when she comes closer. A small Cure spell is dropped to his palm with a wink as she takes her weapon, leaving behind a small gash from what was previously a bigger laceration.

Mirio nods at her gratefully as he wraps his wrist with Yuugure’s handkerchief. As one, he and the sky pirates enter what is looking like an antechamber, with another door past a grand set of double stone stairs. They haven’t stepped far when the door closes behind Katsuki who had walked in last and a shrill aria fills the room.

“It’s shut tight!” Katsuki yells at them from the back.

A tempest blows in the closed room, darkness prevailing. Mirio succeeds in casting a light spell but it eventually proves pointless as thick Mist fills the room, swirling around them with an eerie glow. Beside Mirio, Nejire has fallen to the ground on her knees with wide gasping breaths, Yuugure immediately beside her. The aria continues, mournful and aggrieved, gradually getting painful as it grows louder.

“You dare defile this holy ground with imitation Blood. With Blood from who…? Where the Night came from,” Izuku recites frightfully all of a sudden.

“What?” Katsuki yells at him, indignant, “You can understand this screaming?!” His protests are drowned out by the wind. The young man scowls as he almost instantaneously casts Shell on himself before immediately sending another one at Nejire's direction. “Oi, Viera!” he howls at Nejire who seems to have gathered herself with Kasuki’s Shell to start casting Protectga.

“Not—Not all of it,” Izuku stammers as he recovers when Katsuki sends the next Shell spell at him, just as bewildered as the rest of them. “I think,” he gulps, looking straight at Mirio, “I think you can, too.”

That’s insane, Mirio almost balks, still suffocating from the Mist, but there is a hand on his arm that stays his disbelief. He looks up to see Yuugure, his hood flying off wildly as he tries to talk to Mirio above the din of the hurricane.

“Listen,” he mouths through his own protective barrier, “What does it want?”

I don’t know!, Mirio almost screams back at him. But when Katsuki casts the final Shell spell on him, he can hear in the corner of his mind a hissing voice, otherworldly and slight but the words are still unclear nonetheless.

“Heed the warning come… said long ago? I don’t—” Izuku screams over the glimmer of the Protectga that Nejire finally casts, “Begone from this holy ground, you of…? With dirty Blood!”

The words echo in Mirio’s mind as Izuku speaks. “They only of Dynast-King’s boughs shall be permit!”

Suddenly his Blood flares at the disavowment, raging against the rejection of Mirio’s claim. He heaves as he straightens his back, and points his sword to the ceiling at the unseen enemy.

“What are you doing!” Yuugure hisses at him but Mirio pays him no mind.

“Listen to me, High Seraph!” Mirio shouts over the steadily intensifying gale, “I am Blood of his Blood, born of Dynast-King’s line! I am Mirio of House Togata, Prince of Dalmasca! I come to claim what is rightfully of my House and Rule. I come to claim the Dawn Shard!”

All of a sudden, the winds die down and Mirio almost sighs in relief. He looks around to see the rest of them, frazzled but unharmed, Akaguro and Aizawa looking at him in awed disbelief. Before he can answer them, a pillar of light shines before the grand staircase. All of them watch as in the midst of it, a shadow forms, slowly taking the shape of an inverted teardrop, perched upon a dais with rotating blades at the base.

When the light disappears, the teardrop is revealed to be folded wings, six in total. A seraph indeed, revealed as the wings unfurl. She has the smooth skin of a sculpture, the color of basalt. Her hands lift the silks of her skirts to reveal the dais below them but not her feet. When she opens her eyes, they are all again assaulted by the aria of earlier, but this time, the melody is scornful and the words come clear.

You dare lay claim to Dynast-King’s Shard kept

Blood of Blood, yet Blood of Night here beget

Her voice is melodic, almost like the tinkling crystals that line the shops in the Muthru Bazaar, but her words are like steel. Mirio grits his teeth. This esper will acknowledge his blood one way or another.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Mirio growls at her. “But I swear, with this Blood,” he raises his palm still wrapped in Yuugure’s already bloodied handkerchief, “That I am of the Dynast-King’s line!”

Shards two of brethren power left behind

Not one you carry, not one here I find

Folly, your words reek of lies and deceit

Your life, and their lives, this now you forfeit

“What?!” Mirio gasps, “Wait!”

The High Seraph closes her eyes once again despite Mirio’s pleas, closing her wings on herself.

If indeed in you flows Dynast-King’s blood

Fight its Keeper, so shall you now be judged

When she opens her wings again, they are assaulted by her magick and Mirio has no time to shield as the power of it strips away the Shell Katsuki had cast earlier. Just as quickly as it comes, the assault ends and Mirio opens his eyes to see a leonine creature standing before him, its massive arms crossed in defense.

“Yuu-chan!” Nejire cries in alarm when she catches sight of the creature standing at the forefront. Yuugure is knelt where he cast the Summon, the Esper’s glyph still burning on the floor, its identical brand glowing like the sun on Yuugure's forearm, the tips of it like lotus flowers, the same pattern as that on the Esper’s arms before him.

“It’s fine,” Yuugure assures his partner through shallow breaths, “The thick Mist in this place is helping me.”

Even as the sky pirate pretends at stability, Mirio can clearly see how he struggles to keep his breathing under control with the force of the magick he is exerting. The strain will be too much for him in the long run. Summon magick functions on the edict of equals, and as great as the power lended by an Esper, so shall the toll be on its summoner. Thus, a summoning takes up all of the summoner’s magick reserves and clearly, Yuugure never had much in the first place.

Before Mirio can call him out on it, there is a loud shriek as the High Seraph’s eyes open again.

Bringer of Order, you dare face my wrath!

Your Queen demands thou not to stray thy path!

Yuugure’s Esper only gives a grunt as he stands straight to face the High Seraph head on. Unlike the High Seraph, Yuugure’s Esper speaks in a low voice, a quiet rumbling, grounded and earthly in its tone.

Thou not Queen as you shamelessly proclaim

Thus equals we walk as Order dictates

Til penance be done, our sentence abates

Actions only done in mine master’s name 

“Hashmal,” Yuugure grits out through the effort, “Defeat her.” The Esper gives him a side glance over his shoulder before nodding in understanding. There is a scream from the High Seraph, almost like a wail, as she ascends to the high ceiling of the antechamber.

Defiance of your kin will wrought regret

Here shall you all be ever laid to rest

Your demise, of your own doing shall be

And Dynast-King’s might laid for all to see

 

Mine own edict stands true, shackled by time

Forever Dynast-King keeper enshrined

A light shines from the dais that the High Seraph stands on and Mirio belatedly realizes that it is not a simple platform but in fact, a cannon. The shot fires just as Hashmal punches the ground in front of him, sending up a slab of stone that he hits swiftly to meet the cannon fire head on. The Esper wastes no time in leaping up towards the High Seraph, his fists raised high above his head, being both down to her head, slamming her to the floor below.

Mirio winces as he braces himself for the coming fight, just as Hashmal lands gracefully in front of him. The High Seraph rearranges herself from her crumpled form, again rising to be level with them, her wings gathering the Mist around her to cast her next spell, a double glyph forming behind her. Definitely a powerful grand magick. Mirio races through own his arsenal of magick, tries to think of how to counter the incoming volley from the High Seraph.

“All this fancy talking and we still end up fighting her,” Katsuki complains from somewhere behind him. When Mirio turns, the hunter has a glyph on his feet, swirling ever larger as the spell gets more powerful.

“Seriously?” Aizawa seethes out recognizing Darkga immediately, “Aren’t you, what, twelve?”

Katsuki snorts, “Not all of us are weak with magick like the spiky eggplant.”

“Kacchan is a Red Battlemage, he has his licenses,” Izuku explains to Aizawa calmly as if that was the most immediate concern at the moment as his cousin produces grand dark magic like it's nothing. The Sword of the Tall takes form when Izuku takes it out of its sheath, “Also he’s just really good with magick?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Katsuki mutters as the pitch black magick drips from the glyph on the floor towards the ceiling. On the other side of the room, the High Seraph glows with the strength of her Holy spell. “Oi! Lion face! Step away!” he shouts at the Esper who growls in response before Yuugure nods at him to follow the command.

Just as the Holy spell is released, sending the powerful magick towards their party, Katsuki leaps forward, planting his feet solidly on the ground as he counters it with his own spell, sending Darkga towards the High Seraph. Both magick streams dissipate from cancelling each other out and the High Seraph is given no time to recover as Hashmal closes in on her again to land another devastating blow.

Katsuki tsks as he recovers from the amount of Mist Power needed to cast Darkga. “Well? Are you the Prince or what?”

Mirio takes a deep breath. He realizes it suddenly as he looks around. He is not alone, not anymore, not after two years of living life on the run. Big words come from his mouth in challenge to his ancestor’s guardian and yet he has done nothing but hide behind his peers.

His wrapped fist clenches tight with determination, his magick glowing around him as a clock glyph forms at his feet, hands and gears turning faster and faster. “Allow me to lead us into battle then.”

-

-

Hashmal finally manages to knock the High Seraph off of her dais, flinging her bodily across the room to where Mirio stands, as her metal platform breaks and disappears. With the final blow however, the Esper half kneels in exhaustion and strain, mirroring the struggle his master has been keeping up since the fight started.

Yuugure gives a ragged exhale, “Rest, Hashmal, you have done us a great service.”

The Esper nods at his master as his body dissipates in glowing gold-colored wisps which slowly gather back to his glyph marked on Yuugure’s forearm. It gives one last blinding glow before disappearing on the sky pirate’s skin.

Mirio on the other hand had already approached the fallen angel, his sword pointed forward. The High Seraph hisses at him, her magick and strength spent. With a sigh, Mirio digs his sword into the ruined floor of the antechamber before kneeling down to extend his bleeding hand to the Esper.

“I bear no proof of my identity,” he tells her, “But in my veins flow the Blood of Kings, I promise you. The world is in chaos, and powerful enemies threaten to destroy the peace my ancestor has gifted upon the world. I would not have disturbed your solitude if I had any other choice.”

Though thus Blood of Kings doth stand before me

Blood of Night’s King stand silently by thee

Prince say he of evergreen desert bloom

Yet here Prince of Long Night herald his doom

“I assure you, I have absolutely no idea what you mean when you say that,” Mirio replies testily, “But if you’re worried that I am under threat, won’t you come and protect me instead? Bound ever to King’s Blood, my House say of you. Don’t you want to be out of this temple, too?”

The High Seraph looks at him strangely before she laughs, tinkling like bells and cutting harsh at the same time. She reaches out a hand to lay it on Mirio’s bloody palm. Her skin feels as smooth as stone, he notes, cold and lifeless. Her body slowly disappears in wisps of light, gathering at the back of Mirio’s hand where her glyph forms in turn, reflecting her six wings and the dais upon which she stands.

Freedom from bondage he deigns offer me

You must not be of your line verily

 

King you shall be then, my Prince, of this I swear

Your enemies shall tremble, all beware

The Long Night shall not harm you, ne’er touch you

The Knight King’s blood shall bow e’er down to you

 

Walk your path, Mirio, House Dalmasca

And beside you, High Seraph, Ultima

With that final word, the Esper disappears. There is a great rumbling and they all look up to see the door above the grand staircase opening with a groaning of stone. Ultima’s voice comes to him again from deep inside his mind.

Deep inside, Dynast-King rests, e’er at peace

Sun-Cryst shard kept never to be released

Lest Blood of Blood have need to conquer foes

Its power shall be yours, your Blood it knows

Mirio nods as he gestures to the rest of the party to follow him as he ascends the staircase.

But heed, a warning, ‘bout Sun-Cryst’s power

As Espers are, shard too knows a master

Fashion themselves gods, yet fiends all the same

Beware their intentions, know now their name

The door opens to another set of stairs, leading far below. The end of it opens to a chamber, visible even with the distance because of the bright light that flows within. His blood cries in familiarity, the Dawn Shard can only be inside. Inside his head, Ultima keeps talking about her warning.

Immortal fiends, Ivalice pariahs

Heathen beings, the Occu—

Ultima’s voice cuts off all of a sudden but Mirio isn’t paying attention anymore. Because there, at the end of the steps that lead to the Dynast-King’s resting chamber, stands a small girl dressed in a white shift, her arms and legs bound in strips of white bandages. Her hair is long, longer now than Mirio has ever seen it, falling in waves past her waist. And when she turns her head, there was no mistaking those crimson eyes.

Against all hope, against all odds, Mirio cries tears of disbelief as he finds his long lost sworn sister in the Tomb of the Dynast-King.

“Eri!”

The Princess of Nabradia only gives him a tiny frown before walking further into the burial chamber and Mirio gives chase hurriedly, unaware of the shouts of his knights behind him. In his haste, he trips and stumbles through the last few steps, landing less than gracefully in the burial chamber.

In front of him, Eri stands. He can see her clearly now, can see that she is nothing more than a ghost, translucent and shimmering. She has her back to him, gazing up to a glowing stone floating high above the altar that lies in the center of the room. The Dawn Shard.

Mirio stands up slowly and walks, gentle, as if afraid any misstep would cause her to disappear.

“Oh Eri,” he sobs, “What did he do to you?”

He reaches out a hand, to lay at her hair, only to wetly gasp when his fingers go through.

“Mirio!”

He startles at the call of his name. He looks back to see that his companions are now standing there with him in the burial chamber in various states of injury and distress that he can’t fully comprehend. His mind is still full of Eri, Eri, Eri. But when he turns back to the altar, the girl is gone. He sinks into his knees in despair, rage filling him at the interruption. He could have kept her there, he could have kept her safe, he could have asked where was Eri right now—

“You have it,” Yuugure says in disbelief, cutting through his sobbing, “The Dawn Shard.”

He blinks. What?

True enough, there in the hand that reached out to touch Eri, lies the glowing stone that had previously been held high above anyone’s reach. With a pained sob, he turns back to Yuugure, holding the boon he had so desperately sought, only for it to come at such a great cost.

All of them were looking back at him in shock, except for Izuku who had his eyes nervously kept away. There, in Izuku’s line of sight, walking away from Mirio, is the ghost of Eri again.

“Wait,” he shouts, giving chase, “Eri, wait—!”

“Mirio!” Aizawa hisses at him as the knight grabs him by the shoulders, “Stop it!”

“Let me go!” he growls at the knight, struggling in his hold.

Hands grab his face, forcing him to meet Aizawa’s gaze head on. “Mirio, look at me!” the knight demands, desperation in his voice, “There is no one there. I am so sorry. But Eri is not there. I’m sorry, Mirio.”

Aizawa lets go of his face as he turns his head to the direction of the stairs, painfully empty with the realization that Aizawa had been right. Mirio collapses to his knees and, horribly reminded of the losses he had suffered through in the past two years, cries his heart out on the floor of his ancestor’s tomb.

-

-

They had to stay inside the burial chamber while Mirio calmed himself down, as well as to recover from the injuries from the fight with the High Seraph. Mirio turned the Dawn Shard this way and that in his palms, willing the ghost of Eri to return in a final bid of desperation. He sighs, and brings the shard to his forehead. “You will be found,” he swears beneath his breath.

When he looks up, the party is scattered across the chamber. Aizawa is sat still beside him, profoundly tired if the sighing and constant running of hand through hair is any indication, yet the knight has since refused to leave his side after his breakdown from earlier. Mirio knew, of course, that Aizawa still personally feels responsible for what happened that night in Shie Hassaikai, including not having known Eri’s fate prior to the Fall of Nabudis, only presumed so very wrongly that the girl was safe with her father.

Nejire sits stoically, curled in on herself with her knees drawn to her chest. She had been badly affected by the Mist from the Ultima fight, as viera are wont to be when exposed to Mist. Izuku shuffles beside her, pacing restlessly. Mirio wonders if Izuku had seen Eri if the boy’s horrified staring from earlier meant anything but he was too emotionally and physically drained right now to start asking questions. Katsuki, emptied of his Mist Power from consecutively casting arcane magick, is napping with a scowl on Nejire's other side, an empty ether bottle already tossed aside by his clenched fist.

In contrast to Aizawa, his other knight is restless, almost mirroring Izuku’s endless pacing where he stands near the stairs leading to outside. Mirio doesn’t know what’s making Akaguro nervous now and he doesn’t have the heart to even care to ask him about it.

But if the scowl he makes every now and then is any indication, it’s probably because of—

“Feeling better?” Yuugure drawls at him when he comes closer.

Mirio sighs tiredly, pocketing the Dawn Shard, “What do you want?”

“I’ve been roaming around this chamber for a while now,” he says, “And I can’t help but notice a severe lack of promised treasure.”

He can hear the very audible growl from the direction of the staircase that can only come from Akaguro. Mirio is so, so very tired and does not want to deal with this at all, thank you very much. So he tells Yuugure the truth.

“The Dynast-King was buried alongside two of the greatest treasures known to man at the time,” he explains dully, “The Dawn Shard, and the Esper forever bound to the Blood of Kings.”

“Are you saying you lied?”

“Not really,” Mirio rolls his eyes, “An Esper’s worth is beyond measure after all.”

“Clearly,” Yuugure scowls at him, as he exposes his forearm where Hashmal’s glyph glows slightly, “But I had been hoping for something more measurable.”

Mirio lifts his hands exasperatedly. “Do you want her? Is that it—ow! ”

Ultima’s brand burns on his skin as it glows angrily and Mirio hisses at it.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Yuugure tells him, “It will take a while for your Esper to recover from the fight she just had. Angering her would only drain more of her strength.”

Mirio scowls at him, “She was just talking to me before I entered this chamber.”

“Then I hope you were listening because if she wasted her strength just talking to you, it would definitely be more important than chasing after-”

Yuugure is cut off from his tirade by Akaguro grabbing the collar of his hood. “You will speak with respect due His Majesty, pirate scum,” he seethes.

“Akaguro…” Aizawa reprimands tiredly from where he sits.

“And you!” Akaguro turns on him, “Nalbina has clearly poisoned your mind if you’ve started consorting with the likes of sky pirates! Two years wasted wallowing in your prison, and nothing to show but criminals and children wielding stolen Swords of Kings playing pretend at heroes!”

Mirio flinches at the mention of Nalbina, just as Izuku stumbles in his pacing at the mention of him as well, but before he can intervene, Aizawa stands with a dark look on his face.

“Do not talk to me of Nalbina, you snake,” he hisses at Akaguro, “Shirakumo chose you to escape that night with his Sword of Kings for reasons I have yet to find but here you are no closer to restoring Dalmasca than you were two years ago, brandishing around this pitiful imitation of the Knight-Commander’s weapon. Let me just say it then, Akaguro, it should have been you in Nalbina, instead, dying but never allowed to die, hungry but never allowed to eat, thirsty but never allowed to drink—”

“Enough!” Mirio shouts. “Enough! Gods, Shirakumo is dead! Yagi is dead! My father is dead,” he stresses every word, “Dalmasca is dead!”

He sends them an appalled expression, clearly not understanding why this fight, long been brewing beneath the surface, decides to come up now. “You are both Knights of Dalmasca,” he tells them somberly, “You are both sworn to serve the crown and her people but here you are fighting over who should have been the one suffering at the hands of the Empire for two! years!”

Mirio turns to Aizawa, “I will never, never, make light of what you have gone through and it will forever haunt me that you were just a town away from our help and our rescue. But do not even come close to implying that Akaguro has done nothing in the past two years. Everyday he has kept me alive and kept me safe from the Imperials that swarm our land. Everyday he and the other knights rally support to our cause in the midst of terror and chaos. Everyday we were fighting, Aizawa. Every single day.”

“That’s not—”

“And you,” Mirio hisses at Akaguro next who flinches at the venom in his voice, “I would never be ungrateful for the years you have wasted caring for who was once also a child. I know you were only being careful, I know we always feared people who came to us, I know you never just trusted anyone, not even yourself, after Nabudis. But you can’t just go around picking fights with every single person you see as a threat, especially your own comrades!”

“I’m sorry—”

“I’m not done!” Mirio hisses, “Everyone we love, everyone who matters, is either dead or missing, or working on this mission beside us. But there is one thing we can take back,” he takes out the Dawn Shard from his pocket, “We can reclaim Dalmasca. We can take back our home. If we just, for one second, stop fighting each other and talk!”

Mirio heaves deep breaths in the aftermath of his tirade, his two knights, a couple of fully grown and matured men, looks away in embarrassment from the sermon he had just given them. If he was being honest, this actually made him feel better, a little lighter. The solid weight of the Dawn Shard in his hand grounds him against all the trials he had faced to finally come here. An absolute concrete step to move forward.

There is a smattering of applause from behind him and he turns to see Katsuki slowly clapping where he had woken from his nap. “Thank the Gods,” he drawls tiredly, “Someone finally said it.”

“Too bad,” Nejire pipes up cheerfully beside him, now more awake following the drama that just occurred, “I was actually looking forward to a brawl if it ever came to that.”

“What?” Izuku says incredulously at what Nejire said, “That’s not—”

“Are we done here?” Yuugure grumbles where he kicks at the gold embellishments of the Dynast-King’s burial chamber, still sulking from the lack of solid treasure.

“Yes, we are done here,” Akaguro spits out at him before turning tail and moving back to the staircase, “We will take our leave of this place.” Without turning to see if they follow, Akaguro climbs up the stairs to exit.

Aizawa sighs, “I hate to say this but this time, he’s right.”

“Wow,” Katsuki says, stretching the syllable as he also stretches his legs, “I’m sure that must be a very big step for you.”

“You’re a menace, you know that?” Aizawa scowls at him.

The blonde shrugs carelessly. “Tell me something I don’t know, wraithman,” he throws over his shoulder before following Akaguro’s lead and leaving the burial chamber as well.

“Wait—Kacchan!” Izuku yells before he also follows his cousin, Nejire skipping behind him, feeling better now that she’s had her rest.

Aizawa also steps forward, turning back to look at Mirio curiously, an apology clearly at the tip of his tongue. Mirio holds up a hand, unwilling to listen to this right now as frazzled as he is. “Go,” he instructs instead, “I’ll be there in a minute. I just—I need a moment.”

“Take your time,” the knight says softly, his gaze flicking to Mirio’s side where Yuugure is still presumably moping. With a final nod, Aizawa follows the rest of the party out of the chamber.

Mirio can hear Yuugure shuffling around, the sound grounding him as he organizes his thoughts and his emotions. He hasn’t really loosened the tight hold he’s had on them, not since the night Akaguro returned with his father dead and all hopes of keeping his Kingdom’s freedom lost.

“You were right, you know,” Yuugure’s voice says suddenly, still quiet and low as always.

He scoffs bitterly, “I was right for scolding my knights about something so childish as a fight?”

The sky pirate shrugs, looking at the decorated walls with the same interest as one would have watching the endless expanse of sand in a desert journey. “I had juniors, where I came from,” he says but doesn’t elaborate further, “Sometimes all they needed was for a good talking to for problems to finally be realized and solving it can begin. Doing it now only made it easier for us in the long run.” He looks at Mirio then, “You’re a good leader.”

To his immense disbelief, Mirio actually feels himself color at Yuugure words who also seemed to realize what he had just said and hurriedly turns, pulling his hood even lower over his face. The sky pirate starts walking towards the stairs to make a hasty retreat.

“Thank you,” Mirio finds himself saying softly before he can be out of reach. Yuugure gives him a side glance as he nods and walks away without saying anything more.

Mirio looks back to the altar where the Dawn Shard had been kept for centuries, remembers Eri as she stood quietly in the face of that same altar, remembers the ancestor that sleeps deep within, who stood before a powerful foe and triumphed, now lying in well-deserved rest. He sends a silent prayer for guidance and the safety of his companions.

I will make this right, he swears on his Blood as he grips the Dawn Shard. He hides it again in the pocket of his trousers feeling lighter than he’s been for two years now even with the weight of it against his leg, before he follows Yuugure out of the burial chamber.

-

-

The trek back to the Valley of Victory was much easier the second time around. But that had been where everything started to go wrong.

As soon as they got out of the shade of the Tomb’s entrance where the waystone lay, a large shadow fell upon the Valley of Victory.

The Dreadnought Leviathan, leading the entire armada that composes the 8th Dalmascan Fleet of the Archadian Military, has caught up with them.

“Airships in Jagd?” Katsuki growls disbelievingly, “This fucking Empire…!”

“Draklor and Chisaki’s work, no doubt,” Yuugure curses as a squadron of Remoras land on the opening to the Valley.

Aizawa stands in front of Mirio, talking rapid fire instructions, “We should fight our way quickly through the vanguard, commandeer a ship if necessary, try to flee to Rozarria. The Empire will not dare—”

“I don’t think so.”

Aizawa stops in the middle of taking out his sword. Shirakumo’s Sword of Kings is leveled at his throat.

“Akaguro!” Mirio shouts in alarm, “What are you doing!”

“We’re severely outmatched, Your Grace,” Akaguro says, a little pleadingly as he turns to Mirio, “Won’t you at least hear what they have to say?”

“What are you saying—!”

“I will not see us fight this profitless battle no longer, Lord Mirio!” Akaguro tells him harshly, “If we are to save Dalmasca, then we must accept the truth!”

“Umm, guys?” Izuku calls out as he holds on to his sword just as Imperial soldiers start running towards them with weapons drawn. Katsuki quickly clamps down tightly onto his swordhand to stop him from drawing out the Sword of the Tall with a tense shake of his head. “Kacchan! What—!”

Katsuki and Yuugure exchange glances even as Mirio looks uncomprehending between his two knights.

“The traitor is right about one thing,” Katsuki says lowly, sneering in satisfaction when Akaguro flinches at the title, “We are severely outmatched, Deku.”

-

-

Year 706 Old Valendian

Over the Jagd Yensa

Sanctuary II Flagship Class, Model Draklor X2068

Vessel Name: The Dreadnought Leviathan

They were taken, thankfully unshackled, into the command deck of the Leviathan. Inside they found not only Judge Tarudo, but Judge Kyuura as well.

“Such a great honor to again be graced by your presence, Your Majesty,” Tarudo greets with cold politeness, “You left us with such great dispatch upon our last encounter that I must confess, I feared we had given you cause for offense.”

“I would be touched if only I could hear words of sincere remorse,” Mirio sneers back at him.

“Would that we all could be so honest, Your Grace,” Tarudo concedes with a nod towards Akaguro who looks away in shame. Good. Faram, Mirio still can’t believe—

“Who cares about all this babbling?” Kyuura bellows, “Touya Todoroki has taken me for a fool and the Supreme Justice will hang my neck when he arrives. The Dusk Shard has already eluded my grasp.” He glowers at Mirio, “The Dawn Shard will not suffer my carelessness.”

“Ah, but that is of your own doing, isn’t it?” Tarudo answers coldly, “Deifacted nethicite taken for base imitations. How dull-witted can you get really?”

“How dare you—!”

“Arrest him,” Tarudo says carelessly as Imperials move forward to bring the other Judge to heel, “The Supreme Justice has no use for those who play right into his enemy’s hands.”

“I told you!” Kyuura roars at him even as he is dragged away, “The fucking Marquis is working with Touya Todoroki! He was the one who told the Todoroki brat about the prisoner!”

“Details do not interest me,” Tarudo waves away as the door to the command deck closes and the rest of them look on in horror, “Sincerest apologies that you had to see that, Your Majesty. Disposing of liabilities always tends to be messy business. I’m sure Ser Akaguro would make for a more acceptable replacement—one the Supreme Justice shall welcome most gratefully.”

Mirio whirls around to glare at Akaguro, “How dare you? For a seat in the Court of Judges?”

“As your Judge Protector,” Akaguro clarifies, scowling at Tarudo who only shrugs uncaring.

“You see, Your Majesty,” Judge Tarudo continues, “Ser Akaguro has struck a very wise bargain with the Empire, an offer delivered to the Supreme Justice himself, which of course heralded our late arrival to come and give you our terms.”

“I will never agree to what your Empire will give me!” Mirio shouts. “And my people,” he hisses with a glare to Akaguro, “Should know better than to think I would.”

“Would you now?” the Judge says, faintly amused, “You see, Your Grace, you and His Honor have a common enemy in the form of Dalmasca’s esrtwhile consul and the two-faced Marquis of Bhujerba. Ser Akaguro has requested for an armistice with the Empire of Archadia, for Lord Mirio to be pronounced alive so he may reclaim his throne with Judge Protector Akaguro at his side.

“Marquis Sasaki will be outed as a liar and traitor to both the Imperial Throne and the Kingdom of Dalmasca, Touya Todoroki will be dismissed in shame from his position as both Consul and Senator for colluding with him through Judge Executioner Maz Kyuura. A senatorial position opened which you shall be now free to take—under the...guidance of the Court of Judges, of course.”

“What do I have that you plunderers would want? What’s stopping you from killing me?”

“Why, the relics of the Dynast-King, of course,” Judge Tarudo answers, “The Supreme Justice wants the Dawn Shard. You must admit, ‘tis more than a fair exchange, a Kingdom for a stone.”

“I—”

“And when all is said and done, you will have rid yourselves of your rivals, while gaining another pet,” Katsuki speaks up all of a sudden beside Mirio.

“Lord Mirio, let us take him for the people of Dalmasca,” Tarudo tsks in displeasure, “Surely you see your people tremble in fear of the House of Todoroki as they wait out your indecision.”

Tarudo draws his sword and levels it with Katsuki’s neck, “Make no mistake, the Todorokis are ruthless, Your Majesty. Heads will fall as you wallow in hesitation, and his will be the first.”

“I see no Todoroki sword raised here against Dalmasca but yours,” Katsuki sneers at him.

The Judge seemed to have enough, drawing his sword back to swing amidst Izuku’s horrified scream of “Kacchan!” but Mirio is faster this time.

The glyph is still on his feet just as the clock hands and gears have stopped around Judge Tarudo, freezing him in this moment in time before he could harm Katsuki. In the next instant, swords and halberds are pointed at him in every direction.

Mirio tries to reach into his pocket but the blades pointing at him twitch reflexively at the motion.

“Wait!” Akaguro shouts at the Imperials, “Stand down!”

Mirio ignores him, addressing the soldiers bearing their weapons against him instead. “I am merely getting the Dawn Shard. Your master will not be happy you injured your new Senator now, correct?”

The Imperials look around in confusion before slowly backing away. Mirio takes out the Dawn Shard, nodding to Izuku who quickly starts casting Dispel. He motions to Katsuki who backs away from the still frozen judge. Izuku casts the Dispel, allowing Judge Tarudo to fall limply back into neutral position.

“A stone for a Kingdom,” Mirio says, holding out the Dawn Shard, “And all of my people’s lives.”

“Wonderful,” Judge Tarudo says as he takes the stone. Without warning he clamps down on Mirio’s wrist, tugging at Yuugure’s handkerchief still wrapped there to expose his palm. In a quick move, he pulls a dagger out of his belt and slashes a line across Mirio’s still healing palm and the prince hisses at the sharp pain.

“Lord Mirio!” Akaguro shouts in alarm.

“Hush now, Judge Protector, I am merely awakening the Shard is all,” Tarudo says impassively, tilting Mirio’s hand so his Blood falls onto the Dawn Shard which glows immediately at the contact. “Ah, truly magnificent,” he says, as Mirio’s Blood almost soaks the stone, handing it to one of Leviathan’s engineers, “Have this tested.”

The engineer does a double take, “But sir, our orders from Judge Arbiter Chisaki—”

“Forgive me for not trusting our once enemies, Ensign, including the man who destroyed his own home,” he spits back venomously at her, “Test the damn stone. Find out what Chisaki wants.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Yuugure warns, speaking up for the first time, “You could kill us all with a mere stone.”

“I tire of your prattling,” Judge Tarudo says, waving them away, “Take them to the Shiva, Judge Akaguro. You should have leave to depart for Rabanastre soon.”

“Your Grace,” Akaguro says beside Mirio where he’s stood shocked still from the pain and anger since the exchange, a Cure spell glowing in the knight’s hands. Mirio merely glares at him and walks away.

-

-

Year 706 Old Valendian

Over the Jagd Yensa

Corvette Light Cruiser Class, Model Hosu CR90

Vessel Name: Shiva

The shackles are loud, clanking each time Mirio takes a step where he follows behind Yuugure and Nejire who are also similarly restrained. Beside him, Akaguro is free, and Mirio tries to swallow down the disgust and anger he feels. The knight keeps talking, explaining, but Mirio is only half-listening, too consumed by the toll this entire endeavor has taken.

“When we arrive in Dalmasca, we can finally announce that you are alive and start the events in motion. Once Touya Todoroki is gone, we can restore the Heroic Order of Dalmasca and I shall continue the negotiations with the Empire. I believe the younger Todoroki is the key. From what I’ve seen in the Leviathan, it seems that he can be trusted.”

Mirio laughs, harsh and menacing. He turns to the knight whose loyalties had clearly lain somewhere else since leaving him behind in the Garamsythe, “And who are you, Chizome Akaguro, to talk of trust?”

The prince glares at the Sword of Kings still tied at Akaguro’s hip and the knight retreats back to the Atomos that carried them with a haunted look, presumably to talk with the Imperials there, leaving Mirio alone. To think he had been pondering offering the Oath again once they were out of the Millennium Tomb. Gods, he was such a fool.

Suddenly, Nejire falls over and keels, Izuku rushing to her side. “Nejire-san!”

Mirio finds himself beside a stoic Yuugure who only shrugs despite the pain his partner is obviously going through. “I told him this would happen,” he says flatly, his hands wringing restlessly together.

“Such heat! The Mist!” Nejire gasps, “It’s burning!”

“You! Stand!” An Imperial approaches her, Izuku scrambling to block his way. “Stop!” the boy pleads, “She’s in pain!”

The Imperial backhands Izuku for obstructing his way and Mirio flinches. Nejire doesn’t take too lightly when people hurt her friends. Sure enough, that had been the last straw. Nejire breaks free of her chains with a feral shriek, quickly dispatching the Imperials around her, curling over Izuku, hissing at anyone who comes close.

“What the fuck,” Katsuki murmurs in shock on Yuugure’s other side.

“Nejire never did like being tied up,” Yuugure says with a flick of his wrist, the shackles around them dropping to the floor. He turns to Mirio, “How about you?”

I—what? Yuugure motions to the shackles on his wrists and Mirio tries to fight down the blush over his face. “I like Nejire’s idea,” he says instead, offering his hands.

They have scarcely freed Aizawa and Katsuki when Akaguro arrives followed by a contingent of Imperial soldiers. What an image that makes, striking Mirio with enormous despair and anger.

“No farther!” Akaguro shouts, drawing his sword, “Sky pirates and criminals! The future of Dalmasca will not be stolen!”

Aizawa steps forward then, his own sword now pointed at Akaguro, “I always knew I didn’t like you, I just never thought I could hate you this much.”

“Stop this, Aizawa!” Akaguro retorts, almost begs, “To struggle is futile!”

“Only if we surrender. Only if we stop fighting,” Aizawa answers calmly.

“Then know that you have forced my hand,” Akaguro says as Mist surges across his body. The bandages on his left arm slowly unravel to reveal a horned glyph etched across his skin. “Come, Stain,” he calls his Esper, slamming his hand down to do the summoning.

A large, rotund green humanoid materializes behind Akaguro, its split grin a menace to see. The Esper of Decay, Mirio recognizes from the old books, Cuchulainn the Impure. He knows Akaguro claimed the Esper years ago but has never seen him summon it before now. Akaguro stands back upright, pointing his Sword of Kings towards Aizawa. “Stop them from leaving, Stain,” he commands before rushing forward towards Aizawa.

Around them, the Imperials charge, Yuugure and him fight back to back while Izuku and Katsuki fight alongside each other where Stain had rushed to them.

Suddenly, the airship tilts, creaking as it seems to be flying slowly backward. Out of nowhere, Nejire screams in pain, “Go! We have to go! Leave!” She starts fighting her way through the horde of Imperials towards the ship bay.

“Follow!” Yuugure yells at the two boys closest to her who don’t hesitate, even as Stain gives chase. The sky pirate turns to him, grasping at his arm, “Mirio, we have to go!”

But Mirio is caught speechless at the tableau in front of him. The tilting of the airship had given Aizawa the opening that he needed to strike but the sudden angle had him impaling Akaguro accidentally, Shirakumo’s Sword of Kings lying limp on his side.

“Akaguro!” he screams but Yuugure holds him back, catching the attention of the knight’s Esper who lets out a loud gurgle of distress, waddling back to his master. Stain’s back opens and a scorpion’s stinger comes out, heading straight for Aizawa who jumps back.

“Stop,” Akaguro commands breathlessly, clinging to the sword Aizawa left on his body, “Stain, to me.” The Esper gurgles in confusion, the sound throaty and sad. The tail retreats back into the Esper’s body as he approaches the kneeling Akaguro and starts casting a healing spell—a Curaja, Mirio can see clearly even with the tears in his eyes. It won’t be enough to keep Akaguro alive, Mirio can tell. Aizawa’s strike went through and through, a blow intended to maim, striking fatally instead.

“I didn’t—” Aizawa murmurs in shock from where he observes the Esper trying to keep its master alive in vain. “Akaguro, you have to believe—”

“I do,” Akaguro cuts him off, chuckling a little in shock, “You were always the most honorable of us, Aizawa.”

The ship tilts again, Yuugure dragging him more forcefully now. “We can’t leave him!” Mirio insists in the midst of his sobbing, “We can’t—!”

Akaguro turns to face him with a rueful smile, “Look at what my haste has wrought. I can serve you no longer, my prince.”

“Don’t say that!”

The knight turns to face Aizawa. He sheathes Shirakumo’s Sword of Kings and offers it to the other. “Here,” he gasps through the pain, “It was always supposed to be you.”

Aizawa approaches him cautiously, wary of the Esper who still seems to be confusedly healing Akaguro. It’s probably what’s keeping him alive to talk this long and Mirio hurts to see how this ill-fated trip to the west is ending like this right before his eyes.

“You never took the Oath,” Aizawa confronts Akaguro as he takes the Sword, “Why?”

“I was never worthy of it,” Akaguro spits out, “Even Shirakumo knew I would never have dared when he handed the blasted Sword to me.”

“You’re wrong,” Aizawa tells him flatly, “He trusted you. You are a Hero of Dalmasca just as we all are. That’s all there is to it.”

Akaguro looks at him in shock before shaking his head in disbelief. He slumps further on the ground, “Leave, Aizawa.”

With a nod, Aizawa turns away from him and walks towards Mirio, still being held back by Yuugure. “No…” Mirio whimpers, “No! We can save him! Aizawa, I command you! Please—!”

Aizawa clamps a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Mirio,” he says quietly. Mirio breaks down in tears, dragged by Aizawa and Yuugure to the Remora Katsuki had commandeered, his last sight of Akaguro slumped forward, his Esper still vainly trying to heal him.

-

-

Year 706 Old Valendian

Over the Jagd Yensa

Air Cutter Class - Model Draklor UA3B

Skyfighter Call Sign: Remora Fighter Unit 0714

He can hear them talking over each other as the small aircraft shakes from the force of whatever it was that destabilized the Shiva. But Mirio pays them no mind, slumped as he was inside the Remora’s hatch.

“The Mist it manifests,” Nejire says, trance-like, as she twitches beside him, Izuku going back and forth between them looking for injuries to heal and finding none.

“Holy shit—,” Katsuki curses in alarm from where he sits in the co-pilot chair, “The Leviathan… it just—”

"Disappeared,” Yuugure supplies helpfully.

Mirio blinks, unsure if he heard that right but unwilling to move a single inch. He feels like the weight of the entire Sky Continent was just dropped on his shoulders and could not care less for an enemy flagship.

“What’s that?” he hears Aizawa murmur.

It calls to us, his Blood tells him suddenly, Bring It home.

“It’s the Dawn Shard,” he speaks out, voice raspy from his yelling and crying, still facing the metal wall opposite where he crouches. The ship goes into a heavy quiet at his voice, Izuku finally settling down beside Nejire to stop his fussing.

Yuugure eventually breaks the silence. “Well,” he says and the ship tilts slightly as if turning around, “Let’s go get it then.”

-

-

-

If the reports of witnesses residing on the edges of Rozarria and the Dalmascan Westersand are to be believed, a brilliant light burst in the skies of the Jagd Yensa, over the Valley of Victory. The nomads of the Westersand report that earlier, a large contingent of airships had flown over the desert due west before the light shone over the Jagd—and only smaller straggler ships had returned from whence the light had come.

Terror spread throughout the land, fears of Archadia’s Deathbringer Mist come to the surface, too similar the reports had been to the events that transpired at Shie Hassaikai.

Rozarria stirs in its tumultuous indolence, the light so close to their borders. Accountability is demanded of Archadia, an explanation for why an entire Fleet was deployed too close to No-One’s-Land, just penalty due given to its recognized Fleet Admiral—First Senator Touya Todoroki, then Consul of Rabanastre.

As word of the event in the Jagd sounded throughout Ivalice and the two Empires battle in a field of cold politicking, quit I Bhujerba, citing sudden malady. My true motive: to bring the various counter-imperial forces scattered throughout Ivalice together in unified resistance whilst Rozarria and Archadia remain too entangled in their history-long conflict laden skein.

By this time, Lord Mirio had made his return to Rabanastre. He had not, however, made known his presence and proclaim Dalmasca restored, even as he possessed the Dawn Shard. Rather, he was content with keeping both his own whereabouts, and those of the Dawn Shard, concealed.

Had he chosen to do the opposite, my error in announcing his death two years since past would have been detrimental to my efforts in assembling a Resistance, as I had warned him before his flight to the Valley of Victory.

Moreover, in the aftermath of the sinking of the Archadian Fleet, announcing his return would only serve to invite the Empire’s wrath with no place to turn to so long as Touya Todoroki sits as Consul in Rabanastre, even as he being called to answer for the actions of the deceased Judges under his sphere of control.

The events in the Jagd, however, boded ill for the long ruling House Todoroki beyond the expectations of everyone who observed. In their absence, the true shadow behind Ivalice shall emerge, unchecked and unchallenged.

—Memoirs of Mqs. Mirai Sasaki IV, Night’s Eye of Bhujerba

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-----

[][][][][][]

-----

Year 706 Old Valendian

Somewhere in the Jagd Yensa

The sound of his boots crunch against the dry sand, irritating, annoying, itching—

scratch, scratch, scratch

Amidst the wreckage of the Shiva, the body is unmistakable, his red scarf distinct and known amongst the military circles as a man to be watched out for. More than that, the gigantic blob of pestilence that stands in solemn silence is a sure sign that this was the right man.

“Would you look at that, he still breathes!” he tells his guardian excitedly who only heaves a sigh of exasperation.

“Who… are… you…” the man on the ground rasps when he finally steps closer, barely alive but still with enough strength to spit venom. Despite the threats, the Esper behind him remains immobile, tethered and yet drained of Mist Power. Good, good, at least he won’t have to chase what he wants to wherever the Mist takes it. Who knows, anyway? Who cares?

“Ahh…” he says instead, scratching at his neck from the prickly heat of the Gods forsaken Jagd, “I don’t talk to traitors, unfortunately.”

He kneels, dry wrinkling hand reaching out to touch the glyph on the man’s arm who barely even has enough energy to flinch back. He grabs the man’s retreating hand none too gently, “Ah-ah, not so fast!”

“What are you,” Ser Chizome Akaguro of the Heroic Order of Dalmasca wheezes, clearly running out of breath, which means he is running out of time, “What are you,” wheeze, “Do-ing!”

“Your master will not live long,” he says instead, looking directly at the Esper of Decay, ignoring the dying man’s protests, “Would you not rather serve another master than fade away into the Mists of those who scorned you?”

“Stop!” Akaguro protests weakly, “Stop!”

The Esper doesn’t speak but the sickly yellow wisps that come from the Esper and the glyph on Akaguro’s arm were answer enough. He exposes his forearm where the glyph starts to form.

“Stain,” the man gasps as he breathes his final breath. As the glyph completes, the Knight of Dalmasca lives no more.

“Stain?” he asks the dead body before turning away in disinterest, “What an ugly name."