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Clive steps into lifeless soil before the late Archduke's gravesite, taking in the gentle breezes passing through him, solemnly reminding him of who his father once was, not that he might forget. Despite it being all those years ago, Clive will never forget the fall of his own home, nor will he ever forget the face of his father. Elwin was indeed a loving father and ruler, and he cared all too much; perhaps the reason for his untimely and horrific demise.
Elwin loved nothing more than he loved his children, and he so furtively planned for his boys to find his letter, his will, without so much as a hint as to it existing because he knew despite all else, that his children were going to save humanity. His children are the key. No matter what would come about his people or himself, he kept faith, and he now may rest easy, whilst Clive and Joshua meet their given fate with that very same faith.
Possessing the knowledge that he had, knowing exactly what was going to become of himself and the Duchy, knowing that everything in Valisthea is indeed built on lies and mistrust and hatred, Clive cannot help but wonder just how his father felt, deep inside his heart. And most of all, Clive understands the consuming feeling of agony, continually pressing at him, and knows that it will never truly go away, as his father surely must've felt it, too. Clive realizes that no one gets the privilege of choosing which burdens it is that they bear.
Elwin Rosfield left behind a legacy, albeit a hidden one, buried beneath the remains of the Duchy, and more significantly, left in that of Clive and Joshua's hearts alike. This monument in the lifeless ground only represents what could have been a proper burial, for which they were never able to give their poor father themselves, as the two brothers were ripped a part from inside their own home over a decade ago.
Somehow, it feels like a reunion at last.
The monument reads, "In loving memory of His Grace the Most Righteous Elwin Rosfield, Archduke of Rosaria, Conquerer of the Nothern Territories, Shield against the Scourge of the Southern Seas, Defender of the Flame of the Phoenix who kept His light burning throughout the long winter of His slumber. Now you sleep, but your flame burns still."
"I've been trying to live up to his ideals ever since," Clive says earnestly.
Clive's eyes run over each word several times, and despite himself, his emotions run rampant on the inside. On the outside, he keeps himself collected. He tells himself it's for Joshua's sake, but that isn't entirely true.
Clive briefly imagines how different all of their lives would be, should they had been prepared. But Elwin, he was in fact prepared for his own death. He kept on very well.
Because of course, to Clive, Elwin was the greatest of men.
After a moment, Joshua, who holds his father's helm in both hands, rises to his feet. He says softly, "We all have, Clive. We all have," he repeats.
"And we'll keep trying, because that's what he would have wanted," Joshua continues.
"What he would have done himself," Clive replies, and it is true. This is the very reason why they continue on even now. "Even if it meant standing against the very gods in the heavens."
For a moment, they stand together, the brothers of flame, and Joshua says quietly, kindly, "I shall be borrowing this, Father, if I may. That you might watch over us as we follow in your footsteps," Joshua slowly turns away finally, and he and Torgal move forward.
Clive usually does not hesitate frequently, if it all, but it isn't easy for him to move his feet so firmly grounded in the deadlands. Protesting himself, his body does eventually turn around to see both Joshua and Torgal in his sight, however his breath falls still. The presence of his father, Elwin's presence, is all that remains.
His father is here. He can feel it in the winds, just as he did upon arriving.
For a moment, his father is smiling, and he isn't sure if he can see it, but he can certainly feel it.
Clive tries to confirm his suspicions, and he quickly turns around after catching his breath, hoping that he may see a glimpse of his father, one last time.
He does not.
"We won't let you down," Clive whispers, and he lingers for a moment, touching on the feelings arisen inside his heart. That same flame that they carry, Elwin, Joshua, and himself, it burns very brightly now.
Finally, Clive turns around once more and meets Joshua. His brother asks, "Onward, then?"
Clive answers with much confidence, overwhelmed but disinclined to show it, "Onward. To the end."
"And to a new beginning," Joshua amends, and he's grateful for it.
Torgal comforts Clive, nudging his head against him softly, allowing Clive to give him pets and an extra treat.
Then, they return home.
•
At the Hideaway, Clive finds himself unwilling to rest just yet, still feeling the pulse of his heart within every part of his being, and his head feels as though it was driven into a wall earlier, though it was surprisingly not, thankfully. Small graces.
His limbs feel an unbearably dull ache, his mouth is dry, his ribcage burns, and for a moment he wonders if this is the curse for being a Dominant.
Yet no, he understands that this is grief.
The same feelings and sensations that overtook him at Phoenix Gate, at Drake's Head, and along the way several times until today, where Clive believes the feeling of grief has been since exacerbated, for he has been remembering all that has been lost with a heavy heart.
They have indeed lost a lot.
It eats away at him, but he does not want this to worry and occupy everyone's thoughts. It would be selfish to inflict his own feelings upon everyone else who are already in turmoil, just as all of the remaining left in Valisthea are. Clive blinks away his spiraling thoughts and shifts his focus to something else. For one, he is home.
The Hideaway is silent, tranquil, and feels like home. Jill is asleep, and Clive somberly glances at her, wondering how she manages her own emotions from all this. Probably no different than he, Clive figures. She's been through this all the same as he has. Though Jill is seemingly much more reserved, and she seldom tells of her own sorrows. It pains him. She deserves only the best, and Clive will make sure of it happening.
Across his chamber lies Joshua, with Torgal curled up against his brother's legs as they are both committed to a much needed sleep. Clive thinks of Torgal, and then he dwells on the thought of Joshua. His heart swells and hurts, and for a moment, he breathes a deep breath of acceptance.
His family, his loved ones, they are all here. And for a moment, they are untouched by the wretched atrocities of the world, and by Ultima. Here, they can simply be for all that time allows them.
Despite his assurances, Clive cannot find himself willing to enter the realm of sleep still, so he quickly and quietly rises out of bed, careful not to stir Jill.
As he is about to reach for the door, Joshua raises his head and asks full of sleep, "Clive? Are you all right?"
"Of course," Clive whispers. "Sleep, brother."
"No, hold on," Joshua rubs at his eyes, rising up from his place beside Torgal, who stretches and accepts the freed up space with a small noise of comfort.
Jill begins to move slightly, but she remains asleep.
Clive says quietly, "No, Joshua. You should sleep."
Joshua does as he always has, and he does not listen to Clive, walking over languidly to his brother. He says thick with sleep, "I want to join you."
Clive shrugs, allowing Joshua to accompany him.
They stroll silently but not uncomfortably through the Main Deck, and then they turn to reach the Boarding Deck shortly after. Joshua stops to glance at the water in the absence of daylight, and Clive follows suit, resting his arms upon the fence to steady himself.
"I meant to speak with you sooner," Joshua says after a moment, more awake.
Clive looks over at Joshua, expectant.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
Sighing, Clive replies, "The same as you are."
His brother hums in response, unsatisfactorily. So he elaborates, "Brother, I know something happened before. I meant to ask you."
"How do you mean?"
Joshua explains, "I saw you earlier, unwilling to leave your place," he pauses, then continues. "When we visited father. You felt the same as I, wondering if he really was there with us."
"Of course you felt it, too," Clive mumbles lowly. "Joshua, I felt him there. He was there," he states. "Well, I mean— His life, his dreams— They're a part of us."
Now Joshua himself asks, "What do you mean by this?"
Clive cannot explain it forthright, but he certainly gives it a go regardless. He tries, "He couldn't live on to see what has become of the world, our world, yet he knew of it, surely. He had so much planned, so much to plan for. It almost feels as though it's. . ."
"An empty promise?" Joshua fills in.
Clive shudders, thinking of life and death and amending the world, all within the same string of time. He nods his head, "Yes."
"So you mean that because his promises lie dormant now, it is up to us to fulfill what he could not," Joshua pieces together. "That way he can rest easy, and we can do the right thing."
Nodding, Clive replies, "Yes, exactly. We were foolish and young, then, Joshua. We knew nothing about how this works."
Joshua does not say anything more, he only lets Clive finish.
"Foolish enough to believe that just anyone could fulfill such a heavy promise, one that fixes the things in the world that are incredibly broken," Clive explains. "But it cannot be just anyone. We need to do this, for we are the sons of our father."
"And we will," Joshua adds. "We are not going to let his legacy die as a broken promise, Clive," he says softly. "He would be so proud of you, should he have only made it this far to see."
"He would be proud of us both," Clive quietly sighs, gathering himself before his emotions rampantly find him. Though, he is defeated. Tired.
Joshua first places a warm hand on his brother's shoulder, and he stifles a heavy cough. "Clive," he then warrants his full attention to his older brother. After, he embraces him.
Clive doesn't resist, allowing Joshua his comfort. Yes, as Joshua is the one who needs comfort. He has to be better than this, for Joshua's sake. Of course.
Clive, however, is no more than a mere human, minus the eikonic abilities he possesses.
All of his figurative walls begin to crumble expectantly when Joshua tells him, "It is okay to grieve, brother. You're all right, and I am here."
Clive embraces Joshua in return, finally gifting himself reprieve. "It's been too long. I shouldn't."
"That matters not," Joshua says sternly. "Do as you need to, and you will always have me here to help you."
Clive's tears are silent, but they are very much there, and Joshua has to be the one to coax them out of him, always. It's the effect of having a caring younger brother such as Joshua.
His tears fall for his home, his youth, and his father. They continue to fall for the time he's spent without Joshua, Jill, and Torgal. Even for Ambrosia, his loyal and incomparable chocobo. They fall for the loved ones he's lost along the way, helplessly, as there was nothing he could've ultimately done to change their fate. Cid, Cidolfus Telamon, the name some recognize him by, the memory of him lingers. He thinks of the good. His companions, guiding him through the bad and the ugly, and returning to them with sometimes good and sometimes bad news. Lastly, he thinks of Ultima.
His tears turn hot, and he feels the grief become rage.
Joshua steadies him as he always does, reminding him again quickly, "Clive, it's all right. I'm right here."
Clive's breathing is shallow, and he eventually comes to, the realization of sobbing onto his brother's shoulder dawns on him. He says, "I'm sorry," and he backs away ashamedly.
Joshua returns a smile through his sleepiness. He does not say anything and lets them fall into a silence.
That's right, they should probably return to bed, and they would have if Clive did not let his feelings overwhelm him. Stupid to be upset now, when he has everything dear to him at the reach of his fingertips.
Though now, he does not remember how long they've been out here for.
Time manages to escape them always.
Clive glances over at his brother in the light of the night sky, and just briefly he wonders, "What are you thinking about?" There isn't any reason for Joshua to not break down, too, in this very moment, so Clive wonders and watches with close eyes.
"A thought too many," Joshua says simply, and only then does Clive realize he's voiced his thoughts.
"We should head back and rest," Clive says quietly.
"Yes, we should," Joshua replies, sounding sleepy again. "Thank you, Clive, for letting me talk with you."
"No need," Clive answers. He's a bit awkward, but he stumbles over to place a reassuring hand on Joshua's arm, allowing this moment of brotherhood to rest, now. Then, he begins to walk back to his chamber first, but as he leaves, he glances up to the sky, smiling at his father who looks down to them with nothing but a kind heart.
He says, "We will fulfill your promise."