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Chapter Text

Across stormy seas, beyond our familiar horizon, lay a land known as Valisthea. A vast expanse divided into various kingdoms and nations, each vying for power. One province was ruled by a particularly greedy man, the Emperor of Sanbreque known as Sylvestre Lesage.

In the emperor's eyes all of Valisthea ought to bow to him, from the richest nobles to the lowliest beggars and even the wildlife itself. So was his will written, orders for his soldiers to pour forth through the land and claim all they found in his name, returning home to the capital with their spoils. And it came to pass that Sylvestre acquired rare treasure after rare treasure. Beasts brought to heel to serve him, riches beyond any mortal man's desires.

Most prized of them all was that which appeared most humble at first glance. An apple tree transplanted into the royal garden, its leaves a rich amber year-round and its fruit said to have been grown by their goddess Greagor herself. Their skin bright as gold, their flesh sweeter than nectar, believed to be able to heal all ills and grant immortality. Though as the emperor had yet to live longer than fifty-and-two years, the latter claim still held a measure of dubiousness.

Nevertheless, Sylvestre coveted this prize more than all else. Thus when word came to him that an apple had been plucked without his permission and left half eaten on the garden path, fierce was his fury. How dare anyone steal his most treasured fruit? How dare they leave evidence of their crime to taunt him?

Yet in spite of the increased guard he ordered, the thievery continued through the months. Rumors were abound over who could be so impudent, so irreverent, so willing to court the holy emperor's ire. Only the emperor himself knew with any measure of certainty. Each discarded apple brought to him bore the marks of a beaked mouth having torn into the fruit's flesh, and with testimony from the lone guard who had caught the slightest glimpse of the thief - an avian figure who appeared and vanished quick as a flash in a cloud of scarlet feathers - there could be but one suspect in his eyes. A creature that had long evaded his capture.

A Firebird.

In the height of summer when the thefts had grown too common to be ignored, the emperor summoned forth his eldest son. Prince Dion knelt at his father's throne obediently while Sylvestre gave his order: patrol the gardens each night and capture the Firebird at all costs. Dion agreed to his orders without question in spite of his unspoken reservations. For he was a knight, the leader of their holy order of dragoons, and his men were needed on the warfront to face their rivals, the kingdom of Waloed. Could he truly be spared for such a task? Yet all others had failed the emperor. Perhaps Dion was his father's final hope in the endeavor. Thus he vowed to accomplish it.

Each night for a moon did he forsake sleep to guard the gilded tree. Even as he suffered the effects of exhaustion - only able to rest when morning came and he could be excused from his task - no complaint passed his lips.

Though it meant that when at last a night came that was different from all others, Dion nearly believed himself to be dreaming.

As he turned his gaze down from the starlit sky, wary of seeing the Firebird soar overhead to avoid his suspicion, he found that a man stood beneath the golden tree's boughs. Slight of frame, with eyes as brilliant as sapphires, hair soft and honeyed as though it were floss spun from gold. His beauty left Dion stunned; until he noticed movement from the man, a hand reaching up into the branches, towards the prized fruit hanging just within reach.

"Halt!" He called out. But though the man grew still, he only turned to the prince with curiosity in his bright eyes, holding Dion's gaze evenly as the prince approached. "You cannot be here. How did you get past the other guards?"

Rather than answer his question, the man merely tilted his head. "You are Prince Dion, are you not?"

And Dion, still stunned by the man's sudden and captivating appearance, confessed. "I am."

"They speak of you often in taverns." The man's lips curled up in a smile. "They sing of you, too. 'Dion the Bold'. I confess I was not certain I could believe their praise of your appearance. I wonder, then, if their claims of your good countenance hold truth as well?"

"You cannot be here." Dion repeated, knowing not how to respond to such flattery whilst on the job. "This is no free-garden, you stand in the royal orchard."

"Do I? My apologies. I was simply taking an evening stroll and found myself famished. And these apples do look enticing, do they not?" The man lifted a hand once more as though he would pluck one of the fruits free, if not for Dion grasping his wrist in time.

Yet even as he ushered the man away from the tree Dion's hold on his arm was gentle. The prince dared not harm him. "I would caution you against it. There is a thief who pilfers from these gardens - from that tree in particular. His Radiance would be incensed if he learned you had laid hands on it and I would not see you punished for such folly."

"A thief you say? So the rumors are true." A sentiment that clearly pained the prince, for the man looked on him with sympathy. "Tell me, Your Highness, you have been tasked with this grove's protection. I wonder that you do not think me the thief."

Dion dared not utter his first thought, that he hoped the man - who was capable of sneaking past several imperial guards - was not the true thief. What a pity it would be to lock such a beautiful figure behind bars. Or worse, see him brought to the gallows. So instead he spoke the truth. "His Radiance believes the thief is not human."

"Not human?"

"Based on our current understanding he believes it is a Firebird."

"A Firebird!" The man shouted in disbelief, and though Dion could not fault him his astonishment, he quickly hushed the man.

Once more he uttered, "You cannot be here. If anyone else were to have found you…"

The space between them shrunk the slightest bit as the man drew closer. "If they had found me?"

"You would be clapped in irons. Please, go while you can. Take of any other tree or bush if you must to feed yourself, but leave."

The man proved hesitant until a voice called from the far end of the garden. Then he drew free of Dion's hold and hurried away as the prince drew up to his full height and marched to the soldier who had summoned him. The soldier spoke of a noise they thought they'd heard from the orchard, which Dion dismissed as only himself speaking his thoughts aloud.

The soldier turned then to go but stopped with another cry, drawing their sword to point back to the gilded tree. Dion turned and once more could barely believe his eyes. There, perched on the highest bough, was the most beautiful creature in all the land. A bird with luminous scarlet plumage whose natural light made the golden leaves around it glimmer, whose maw released captivating birdsong before taking flight.

Instinct drove the prince. Intent on capturing it alive, Dion used his considerable agility and dragoon training to vault into the air, catching one of the Firebird's tailfeathers in his hand. But though he maintained a solid grip it was not enough to ground the bird, and Dion landed in the garden once more with naught to show for his efforts but the iridescent feather in his hand.

A feather was not enough to appease his father.

Though the emperor was vindicated in his suspicion, Prince Dion's failure only stoked Sylvestre's ire more. He publically commanded that his son track the beast and capture it, that the emperor might add it to his vast menagerie. Those in attendance for the decree were witness to Dion's obedience and what they saw as the proclamation of his doom.

Firebirds were oft the subject of wives' tales even in that age, and it was told that all who dared attempt to capture one would meet a grim fate, tragedy befalling them either by the Firebird's flames, through foul luck that followed the poor souls, or sometimes merely by their own hubris overcoming their good sense in the wake of victory over the creatures.

All who aided Dion in his preparation grieved their ill-fated prince. Their eyes shone with tears unshed, their lips only able to utter a prayer to the goddess Greagor that She might in Her divine providence protect the crown prince from harm.

On the dawn of his departure, Dion set out with his trusted steed, a wyvern he'd tamed when he had been just a boy and given the name Vereena. He hoped that her keen senses would aid in tracking the Firebird. With the pilfered feather held aloft, Dion waited until she memorized the scent before rising onto her back to take wing.

Yet he would soon curse her lack of proper training. For you see, Vereena had been a war drake molded for the battlefield, not as a bloodhound would be prepped for foxing. Truly that could be the only explanation for her descent some hours later to a quiet, provincial village where she perched upon the only stable rooftop which could hold her weight and gave a harsh cry that terrified the local villagers.

All but one, that is.

Dion, vexed and frustrated, leaped down from his mount to try and calm the crowd only to be reunited with the man from the orchard. His hair shone even brighter in daylight and those eyes of cobalt were wide in surprise. Not at the wyvern who lashed her tail glaring down towards the townsfolk, but at the prince.

"Your Highness?"

Dion could scarcely believe his own eyes. Though the days since their first meeting had been fretful over his hunt, Dion had found his thoughts turning each night to the memory of the man before him, his beauty imprinted upon the prince.

"It's you," he uttered. "My apologies if Vereena frightened you. She was meant to track the Firebird's scent but it seems she's mistaken it for that of the chocobos stabled here."

The man lifted his gaze to the wyvern still perched overhead. "Is that so…?"

"I cannot blame her. She was bred for combat, not tracking. But if I cannot trust her nose then I will be forced to seek another method to locate the Firebird."

The stranger's attention fixed on him once more, and for a moment the prince felt as he would when appraised during a formal inspection. "You cannot mean to cage the creature? It would spell your ruin. Surely even a prince has heard the tales."

In truth Dion hadn't heard them before recently, but his loyal captain, Sir Terence, had been raised with such tales and he shared them alongside his worries before Dion's departure. "I will do what I must to please His Radiance. The Firebird will not come to harm."

"But he will be a prisoner for all his days!" It was the first time Dion had ever heard the man raise his voice. It gave him pause, long enough for the man to continue quietly. "Forgive me… Such fates sicken me to think of."

"No," Dion insisted in an equally gentle tone. "You have naught to apologize for. I would not wish a cage on anyone, even a noble bird that has turned to thievery. But my father's word is final. I must see the Firebird captured or…"

"Or…?"

"Or never return." The order still echoed in the prince's mind. For his continued failures - the recent loss of the Battle for Belenus Tor, Dion's inability to capture the Firebird that fateful night - this was his last chance to redeem himself and return to his father's good graces.

And oh how those radiant blue eyes became distraught. A gentle hand reached forth to comfort Dion. "Your Highness… I would join you on your quest."

At that Dion was quite dumbfounded. A civilian aiding him in helping find the Firebird to cage it? And not just any man but this one before him, who held a measure of sympathy for the creature? "I cannot allow it. You could be injured or suffer my ill fate."

"But it is my own fault for your failing, is it not? My presence that night distracted you from your duties, and this must have been the reason the Firebird was able to evade you. Please, I would atone for my error by helping you however I can."

And though Dion was hesitant to do so, he agreed. "Very well. But if we are to travel together then I would at least know the name of my new companion."

The man looked upon him with a smile, one filled with hope and light. "You may call me Joshua."

At last the prince could put a name to the face that had haunted his thoughts. And how fitting a name for a man so fair. "A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Joshua. I hope your business in this village has been attended to. We must away to the south."

"To the Republic? That seems awfully far to go, and whatever for? Surely the Firebird has not been traveling such a distance each time it feels in the mood for thievery."

Shaking his head, Dion whistled for his wyvern to descend and join them. "I would think not, but there is a lead I was given before departing from the capital. One I hoped not to need." As he spoke he offered to help Joshua mount the saddle on Vereena's back, rising gracefully to settle in behind him. "There is a man there who found his fortune in trade and found his fame in hunting rare game. It was said that the only quarry he ever failed to turn into a trophy was a Firebird."

"So you would seek advice from one who could not succeed in your mission?" Joshua's voice held a teasing note to it.

Dion deigned not to rise to the bait. "I have few other options. And there are insights he may be able to impart from his prior attempts."

"Perhaps." And though Joshua continued in a quieter tone to himself, the prince could just make out his words. "It will simply require stomaching his company…"

Briefly he wondered at how Joshua could be so familiar with the man in question when the prince had made no mention of his name, but Dion chose to move on from the subject.

Taking the reins in hand, Dion gave a terse command that sent his wyvern airborne, whisking them swiftly upwards and into the clouds. Out of necessity the prince took care to hold his passenger close. Yet he was surprised to find that Joshua, unlike most who took their first flights, had no sudden outburst of fright or cries of glee to give. At most Dion glimpsed a warm smile on Joshua's face, as though he welcomed the whipping winds as a familiar friend.

The journey towards the Dhalmekian Republic would take them a day if their only aim was to reach the border, but their needs drew them further south and to the heart of the mountainous crater that housed Drake's Fang, the monumental Mothercrystal from whose gem-filled veins the Dhalmeks reaped great wealth - and whose caverns housed Hugo Kupka, known far and wide as Hugo the Mountain for his notable place of refuge and for his rather enormous figure.

As the Empire and Republic were allies - tentative though the arrangement may have been in that age - the task of seeking an audience with the lord of Castle Dazbog was trivial. For even the prideful Hugo Kupka would not dare reject a visit from Prince Dion. It was decided that Joshua would act as Dion's attendant while they met with Kupka, and they stopped along the way to purchase clothing more proper for him to dress in for such a prestigious meeting.

A pair of Kupka's loyal Men of the Rock led the way deep into the heart of the mountain, announcing Dion's arrival. Seated at the far end of the audience chamber, Kupka did not stand to greet his guest, though he gave a respectful tip of the head.

"It was quite the surprise to hear of your request to meet, Your Highness. And to be given such short notice as well. You've captured my curiosity."

A mollification lingered on the tip of Dion's tongue, but it drew short. As the prince stepped nearer to the lord's throne a glint of metal caught his eye. Years of a soldier's training made him wary at once, yet he realized just as quickly that the shine he saw was not from a blade but from an apparatus on Hugo's hand. Nay, a pair of them that had replaced the man's hands from the wrists down. Thankfully his sense of decorum drew his gaze back to Hugo's face before it could become apparent that he had been staring. "I beg forgiveness for the sudden nature of my arrival. Were I not on a mission of urgency I would have written ahead."

Hugo regarded him coolly in that moment. "Let us both be honest. Were you not on a mission of urgency, you would have no wish to meet with me at all."

It was an ugly truth that Dion would rather have left unsaid, and he did not dignify it with a response. "You are known throughout the lands as a distinguished hunter. Few beasts have bested your skills and your trophies are numerous." Here Dion gestured around the chamber where stuffed animal heads and mantled horns adorned the walls. "I have been tasked with a hunt of my own and I seek any wisdom you would be willing to impart to aid in my endeavor."

"Tell me, Your Highness," Hugo spoke, the timber of his voice echoing in the grand space. "What is your quarry? What prey has so desperately captured the attention of the noble prince of Sanbreque that would pull him from skirmishes with his nemesis?"

Bracing himself for what was to come, Dion spoke plainly. "A Firebird."

Hugo's stony expression grew cold at the admission. As he stood to his feet there came the sound of metal moving, the joints of his prosthetic hands creaking faintly between each heavy step that brought the mountainous man before the prince. "Has your hubris grown so immense? Or do the pampered royals of Oriflamme not know the dangers of such a hunt?"

"I assure you," Dion countered through grit teeth. "I am well aware. They will not sway me from my course. I have my orders."

"Orders that will lead you to your death. But I care not. In fact, I believe we may yet reach a suitable agreement. Information that will trivialize your hunt in exchange for a favor."

Feeling his hopes swell, Dion raised his chin to meet the man's gaze firmly. "Name your price."

Hugo lifted one of his wide, iron palms - the breadth of which nearly eclipsed the prince's own head, which he noted at once given its proximity. And though he could not see it, Dion felt the faint warmth of Joshua's body as the man drew ever so nearer to him. "The head of the man who took my hands."

Pride and disgust were at war within his heart, his immediate impulse being to deny Hugo such a request. He was Prince Dion, a noble and righteous knight, not an executioner and certainly not a sword for hire.

Yet he reminded himself of what he stood to lose should he fail in his mission.

His home, his comrades in arms, his father's love.

Though it sickened him to acquiesce, Dion bowed his head. "... Very well."

"Your Highness-" Joshua whispered at his back, and Dion felt a hand grasp at his tunic.

Hugo's eyes, already quite beady in Dion's opinion, narrowed just so at the quiet outburst from the man. Yet his words remained directed at the prince. "I will admit that I expected a touch more resistance. You continue to surprise me.

"I seek a man who is known in these parts as 'Cid the Outlaw'. His predecessor caused me much trouble when he still lived, and now it seems he has taken up the mantle of remaining a thorn in my side. It was this 'Cid' in fact who thwarted my attempt to capture a Firebird years ago, and in so doing left me in this miserable state."

Again he lifted his mechanical limbs, a glimmer of despair showing briefly on his face. "Feel free to interrogate the man when you find him if you think he'll squeal about what he knows. But rest assured, if you succeed in bringing him to me I will share with you all that would be needed to locate the Firebird I tracked all those years ago."

From behind Dion, Joshua spoke up. "What information do you have that could be worth a man's life?"

Regarding Joshua with a sneer, Hugo directed his words towards Dion. "You keep a loose leash on your attendants, I see. Your Highness stands to gain greatly. I am certain His Radiance would agree that what I offer in bargain is worth the lives of a hundred men. Perhaps more. For I know where the Firebirds of Valisthea go to roost."

Surprise overcame Dion, so keenly that it kept him from being able to halt Joshua as he stepped forward. "You found their nest? You would have hunted the creature in its own home!? All to add another abhorrent trophy to your-!"

A sickening crack echoed through the hall. A sound borne from Hugo bringing the back of his iron hand against Joshua's cheek. The smaller man stumbled into Dion's arms and the prince, horrified, sought to assess the damage. He expected there might be tears in the man's eyes from the pain, or that perhaps he would stalwartly mask his reaction to the affront. Instead he found fury ignited within Joshua. For a moment he could swear that the man's eyes, always so brilliant, were now lit from within by a cobalt fire.

"You ought to teach your servants to mind their tongues."

Rounding on the brute, incensed nearly beyond words, Dion could barely keep a snarl from entering his voice. "You will not lay hands on him again. We have an accord, your information for my capturing Cid the Outlaw. I believe this meeting is adjourned."

"As you say, Your Highness." Hugo offered a shallow bow, a mockery of decorum given his previous actions. Dion in turn showed him no such courtesy as he led the way out of Castle Dazbog.

Only after the castle was long behind them did Dion slow in his pace to approach Joshua, worry softening his voice. "Are you injured? I have a salve packed if you were cut."

Joshua, who had since then been utterly silent and cradling his cheek, held Dion's gaze rather owlishly until he regained his senses, turning away again. "I am well. The only injury I sustained was on my pride."

"Unfortunately I have no medicine which can heal that." Dion lamented, though he offered the man a hopeful smile. "You were brave to stand up to him. Foolish, to be certain, but braver than I."

"Braver than you? Don't say such silly things, Your Highness."

Dion heaved a sigh. "But it is the truth. Look at me. Sacrificing my ideals in the name of pleasing my father. A noble prince indeed… Even if this 'Cid' character is an outlaw, it pains me to trade his life for my own gain, yet I gave my word for it all the same."

Pity colored Joshua's words. "You were given no simple ultimatum by His Radiance. And it is as you say: at least we seek a criminal. I pray that will be enough to soothe our consciences."

Chapter Text

Thus the pair would need to undertake this additional task, and quite the conundrum it proved to be. To apprehend a notorious outlaw who had eluded capture for years. How, then, would the prince find him? The pair toiled for hours over how best to accomplish the task, and it was Joshua who put forth the idea of following the threads of local chatter. Surely a man of such ill reputation had become the subject of gossip and rumors. And though this Cid may be an outlaw, even criminals needed allies amongst the common folk.

"Ask people the right questions," Joshua had explained, "and you will be rewarded with the right information."

Indeed they were rewarded with curious news after their first inquiries. It seemed to be the case that Cid the Outlaw's primary crime - or at least that which had first earned the ire of the state - was in the theft of Bearers. More curious still was what they learned on further investigation from individuals apathetic to the man in question, some of them even bordering on sympathetic. For it seemed that Cid had no interest in taking these Bearers as his own personal property but instead freeing them. Granting them independence and autonomy over their own lives.

Quite the shocking revelation, and one that only further curdled the guilt that had settled in Prince Dion's heart. The enslavement of Bearers for their unique magical gifts had never been a practice he condoned; it had in fact been one he'd hoped to strike from Sanbreque's laws should he ever come to power. How could he give over the life of a man with such compassionate aims just to fulfill his father's desires?

It was this quandary that Dion was left pondering up until the moment they finally crossed paths with the man. Though rather than prove successful in their hunt of Cid, it was the outlaw's band of allies who found them first.

Dusk had begun to descend on the streets of Ran'dellah when a pair of figures stepped in their path, both lightly armored and wearing hoods that shrouded their faces. "Your Highness should quit while he's ahead on his hunt. Cid knows you're on his trail and you won't prevail in capturing him."

"I no longer seek to." Dion declared, surprising himself in the act; but he held no regrets in saying so. Apparently his mind had been subconsciously made up on the matter. "But if he were willing, I would speak with him. I presume if he knows that I am in search of his location then he must be aware of why."

The pair of outlaws shared a look between themselves. "He has a hunch. There's chatter about your search for a Firebird."

"And I know he has crossed paths with one in the past. I ask only to meet with him and learn what he knows so that I might save us both the trouble of dealing with Hugo Kupka."

Though he could not see the figures' eyes move, Dion thought he saw one turn their gaze on Joshua at his side. Then they leaned towards their partner and uttered a quiet word, after which the other spoke once more. "We'll pass along your desire to meet with him. If he's amenable then you'll have your audience."

As swiftly as they had arrived, the outlaws departed down a side street. Thus leaving Dion and Joshua to make their way back to their rented room at the inn and wait.

"Your Highness," Joshua spoke softly in the quiet of their shared space. "Do you believe Cid will agree to your meeting?"

Dion's gaze was cast out the open window, surveying the market streets that gradually quieted as evening set in. "I dare not say. The common criminal would be a fool to do so, or else too paranoid. But he has shown that he is unlike most whose faces adorn bounty posters. We shall have to see."

"May I ask another question, then?"

Curious, the prince allowed his attention to return to his companion. Joshua sat perched at the edge of the bed they were to share, nervous hands wringing themselves on his lap. A curtain of melancholy hung from his brows, obscuring his beauty beneath what Dion could only describe as guilt. "What will you do if you fail? If you do not bring His Radiance the Firebird he seeks?"

It was a potential reality that Dion had feared to consider. When the hope of his mission was still a bright near-certainty he knew within his heart that he could not risk entertaining such failure, such loss, else he would falter on his path. Though now that the possibility of failure had proven more and more likely the shadow of it crept in at the edges of his mind. Where would he go if his home could be considered home no longer? What would he do if he were stripped of his rank as well, considered unfit to lead the holy dragoons?

"I confess, I am uncertain…" Once more he turned away. "Though I would not be welcomed within Whitewyrm's walls, within the holy capital itself even, I would endeavor to return to Sanbreque. My loyalty lies with her people. My service is still owed to them. If… If my only remaining title would be that of a soldier's, then a soldier I shall be."

"A life given fully in servitude. Is that truly the path you would wish for yourself?" The sound of quiet footfalls preceded Joshua's presence at his side.

"If I could do nothing else with my life I would be happy to use it to protect those of my people."

"It is a noble decision." On the window ledge Joshua set his hand atop the prince's, a warm comfort. This close to each other, Dion could observe the fact that Joshua's hands, though soft as he had shamefully imagined, did not lack callouses as he'd predicted they might. "It also seems like a lonely one."

"I would have my men, and I would have Vereena to keep me company."

Heat bloomed beneath the prince's collar when Joshua turned to him then, finding that the other man's gaze proved intoxicating at such close proximity; in particular when he was victim to the sublime smile offered to him. "Lady Vereena does make for pleasant company, I admit. Yet I cannot help but wonder… No." Joshua ducked his head away. "I should not intrude on your personal affairs."

Unable to keep the amusement from his tone, Dion found himself leaning closer to his companion. "Now you have me curious what you would inquire about."

"Forgive me, Your Highness." Joshua murmured, demure and resolute in avoiding the prince's gaze. "I would not risk offending you."

"And I insist that you will not offend me. I know it would not be your intention."

Silence stretched between them, until hesitantly Joshua gathered the courage to speak his mind. "It is one thing to have the company of drakes or of your fellow soldiers. But they are not exactly the sort of individuals that one would make a home with."

The warmth that had been a mere nuisance moments prior grew into a broiling flame beneath his skin, and Dion reminded himself that this honesty was what he had asked for. "True enough… I have seldom given much thought to whom I would one day marry. As royalty my match would doubtless be made for me, but… In such a case that I have been disowned, it could be that perhaps I would be free to make that choice myself."

Only then did Joshua dare to meet Dion's eyes once more, drawing the prince in with the sincerity shining in those pools of blue. "I hope that, no matter what comes to pass, you will be able to make that decision yourself. It would be such a shame to see your happiness forgone for duty."

If only time had stood still in that moment, long enough to allow Dion to bare his heart then and there. Alas, a knock at the door served as a reminder of their reality, forcing the prince to step away. Upon opening it he was greeted by a woman near to his age with hair that shone like sterling metal, accompanied by a broad-framed man with a mop of black, tousled locks that failed to hide the dark ink etched beneath the skin of the man's cheek. A Bearer and an unknown woman at his door unannounced could mean only a few things.

"Representatives of Cid, I presume?" Dion asked.

"In a way." The woman answered, offering a graceful curtsy. "May we enter, Your Highness?"

"Of course." Stepping aside, Dion allowed them entry into the humble room. "I must confess, I was uncertain if he would agree to my request."

The man, his tone far from welcoming, replied in her stead while he sized up the prince and his company. "Admittedly I am still debating the prudence of this decision. But my curiosity won out, and so here I…"

"Clive?" It was Joshua's voice that filled the silence as the man trailed off. A single, timid, hopeful word that shattered the previous tension like a delicate sheet of ice. In a flash Joshua was upon the man, throwing his arms around him with a sob. "Clive!"

"Joshua!?" The man - Clive - may have been stunned initially but he quickly cradled Joshua close to him, tears springing to his eyes. "It's you… Founder, you're here and you're- Are you alright? Has he hurt you?"

"No!" Joshua hastily exclaimed, reeling back only enough to look the man in the eyes. "No, he hasn't laid a finger on me. Dion- His Highness has been nothing but respectful to me."

Dark brows furrowed in confusion. "But he means to-"

"I know. Have faith in me, brother. He is a good man, an honorable one." Joshua turned then and his gaze fell upon the woman accompanying Clive, who had stood by watching with tears freely flowing. "Jill…?"

"It's me. Oh Joshua, look at you." The two embraced as ardently as Joshua had with Clive, with him tucking her close to his chest and her threading her fingers through his golden hair. "You've grown so much…"

Clive, still a bit choked up, cleared his throat. "He's nearly as tall as I am."

"I daresay I am as tall as you, brother."

"If you say so. There's so much we've missed… But there will be time to catch up later." Here his eyes cut over towards Dion, resuming with his previous prickly frown.

The prince straightened his posture, having been silent so as not to interrupt their touching reunion. Joshua relinquished his hold on Jill to return to Dion's side, looking up at the prince with wonder still glimmering in his eyes. "Your Highness, my apologies. I did not intend to halt your business with them, though neither did I expect to be reunited with my family on this day."

"There is nothing to forgive." Dion assured him.

Smiling sweetly, Joshua's attention turned to the duo. "I certainly had not expected to find that my brother and sister were in league with a band of outlaws."

The pair wore twinned looks of abashment, though it was clear they understood that Joshua spoke only in jest. "We do so with good reason." Jill explained. "But we should not waste any more time. We cannot risk being found here by the local authorities."

Clive stepped forward. "I would introduce myself as 'Cid' but my brother has unfortunately given the ruse away." Joshua, cheeks flushed, looked away from him. "False name or not, I am still the acting authority of our group. I would hear what Your Highness has to say."

"And I thank you." Dion dipped his head. "You know that my mission is to locate the Firebird that has angered my father. I initially sought the aid of Lord Kupka knowing that he once sought the same prize years ago, having failed in the attempt and survived it. Albeit maimed for the trying."

The prince swore he saw a flicker of vindication in Clive's expression, but it was too fleeting to say for certain.

"We struck a bargain, though I did so reluctantly. He would share with me the location where the Firebirds of Valisthea go to roost in exchange for bringing him Cid the Outlaw. For as desperate as I am to succeed in my mission, I am not eager to trade in lives. Thus I hope we can come to an alternate agreement."

Clive's eyes narrowed in scrutiny, as deep blue as his brother's. "And if we refused to help you? Would you then still follow through on your accord with Hugo?"

To that Dion solemnly shook his head. "As I stated, I will not trade lives."

"Yet you would capture the Firebird and trade its life to appease your fiendish father?"

"Clive!" Joshua crossed the space towards his brother once more.

Shame weighed heavily on Dion's shoulders; it kept him from being able to meet the man's gaze. "The Firebird would not come to harm-"

"Don't lie to me." Pushing past his younger brother, Clive approached the prince with a snarl in his words. His fury was palpable, like radiating waves of heat that threatened to burn Dion to a crisp. "What do you know of your father's intent? How can you possibly claim that no harm will come to the creature when your father abuses the captives in his menagerie!"

"I would ensure its safety, I would protect it from harm-"

"Like you did with me?" Any remaining warmth was now absent from Clive's voice, and Dion gawked at him in growing horror as he continued, his gaze drawn back to the harsh, dark lines of the brand on the man's cheek. "Like you did with Tiamat, or Aevis, or all the others who suffered at Sylvestre's hand? Do not lie to me and do not lie to yourself. You can claim to be noble in turning the Firebird over alive but do not pretend his blood will not be on your hands."

All the breath had vacated Dion's lungs.

"Clive, that's enough." Joshua whispered as he reached for his brother's arm.

Ice settled within the prince's soul. What was he to do? Even if he found the Firebird what was he to do? How could he abandon his mission now when it meant losing so much that was dear to him? How would he be able to live with himself if his actions led to the creature's suffering? Confliction threatened to paralyze him on the spot, yet the world did not stop spinning for the sake of one prince's woes. And so he spoke, stilted and wracked with hatred for himself. "I must find it."

As would be expected, Clive had nothing to show but scathing disappointment before he turned away from Dion. In fact, it was Jill who responded, her voice startlingly calm in spite of the tension. "Then we will try to help as best we can."

"Jill?" Clive was incredulous.

But she shook her head at her companion. "We cannot give you the information Kupka would have. Not directly, at least. The Aerie is home to more than just Firebirds, and giving away its location is not our secret to share. Instead, we can direct you to one with the authority to do so. But-" Jill paused to step before the prince and meet his gaze. "You must prove that we can trust you with such information. And with caring for our little brother, since he seems quite keen on remaining by your side."

Sparing a glance towards Joshua, Dion steeled his resolve and gave a nod. "Name your terms and they shall be done."

A small smile found its way onto the woman's face. "There are only two. Our people need a healer, and rather urgently. The woman we have employed thus far, Tarja, has gone missing in the field. Our scouts are searching for her as best they can but in the meantime we have too few trained apprentices to tend to the Bearers in need of their care in our hideaway. If you can find a healer willing to aid us within a week's time, we would be quite grateful."

"I will do my best."

Jill raised a hand to halt him. "There is another term I would propose. You would go alone in this task. Joshua will remain in our care for the time being."

"What?" Joshua spoke up, his focus shifting from Jill to the prince and back. "But why?"

Her smile grew ever so slightly mischievous. "Partly because I have missed you during these long years apart; Clive and I would both enjoy time to spend with you in private. My primary reason, however, is that I would see what kind of man His Highness is without your influence. Whether the noble man you speak of is in part because of your presence or wholly the truth of himself."

Already an ache had begun to settle within Dion's chest knowing he would be without Joshua's soothing company, but he would persevere; as a soldier he had suffered much worse than loneliness for much longer than a mere week. "Very well. I shall set out at first light to seek you a new healer. Assuming that we are all in agreement?" His gaze trailed over to Clive.

Clive who looked as unhappy as ever about the situation. Though a softness had overcome his expression, rounding off his sharp edges when he looked upon Jill. "... Very well. When the deed is done you will find one of our allies in Sanbreque, a man named Quentin in Lostwing. He will provide further instructions for you."

With reinvigorated hopes, Dion bid Joshua a reluctant farewell before the man departed with his family, the two sharing a quiet vow that they would see each other again erelong. Though the prince mourned the loss of the warm body of his companion at his side, he slept unburdened that night for the first time since departing the imperial capital, so assured of his chances of success with the task that lay before him.

For who would willingly deny a prince's humble request? Soon he would learn the answer.

Locating the nearest physicker to be found in the city of Ran'dellah was trivial. Dion had even spoken with the gray-bearded fellow whilst he'd been steeped in his search for Cid the Outlaw. It was because of this prior encounter that he quickly realized the difficulty of his new task: not only would he need to find someone willing to abandon their work to travel afield, they would need to be willing to work with outlaws. Something Dion knew the man - who had raved about Cid and his troublemakers - would never abide. Thus he would have to look elsewhere, dutifully ignoring the hairline fracture in his confidence.

But Ran'dellah, being the capital of the Republic, was a vast city more than capable of housing multiple healers. He would simply need to look in other districts.

After all, he found soon after a man advertising his aid for those living in the city's exterior shanty. Though Dion regretted the possibility of taking his skills away from those desperately in need, he approached the man all the same hoping that the physicker would be willing to temporarily relocate. Yet the physicker saved him the trouble. One look at the richly dressed prince was all the man needed, stating that he could not help a doomed man lest the healer find himself wrapped up in the Firebird's curse. Surprised and more than a touch disappointed, Dion politely dismissed himself to continue his search.

Alas, his poor streak of luck continued for far longer than he had ever anticipated. Even with a week's time limit, Dion could cover much ground thanks to Vereena's wings to speed him along. Yet his pleas were rejected by every individual he spoke with from the many sprawling districts of Ran'dellah, to the houses of knowledge in the Free Cities of Kanver, to the noble streets of the Crystalline Dominion. Fear, shame, disgust. Dion was witness to them all each time he sought their aid. More than once that disgust had been aimed at him rather than the outlaws he served as proxy for; more than once he felt that perhaps he deserved it.

The week had nearly passed. Dion found himself on the bank of a river that wound its way through the Dominion's capital city, in particular the slums built of rickety wooden shacks and piers. His initial reasoning for journeying to the area eluded him now as he stood in silence beneath the luminous moon. What did the reason matter? He had failed.

He knew he ought to return to the stables, to depart with Vereena and report the results of his futile attempts. Yet he stood paralyzed to the spot with only one thought echoing in his mind.

Dion had failed.

He had failed to prove himself, he would fail to locate the Firebird, yet more failings atop his initial attempt to capture the creature, atop his failure to beat back Waloed's army at Belenus Tor, atop his failure to be worthy of his father's love.

At least here in the solitude of an unfamiliar city he would feel less shame for the sob that bled free from his soul.

Yet he was not truly alone.

"Milord?" Came the sound of a timid voice, and when Dion turned towards its source he spied a willowy young girl clutching a basket beneath her arm. "Are you alright?"

Bashful, the prince feverishly dried his eyes. "I shall be, in time."

"You look troubled."

And the prince, so worn and weary, gave a shuddery laugh. "I suppose I do. For I am, but please- You needn't worry yourself over me."

The girl studied him a moment longer before seeming to resolve herself to the task, for she strode closer and held up her basket to display. "One of my friends gave me a share of their tea leaves, and I bought a loaf of bread today. It isn't particularly fresh but it should still taste good. Grandmother said the best medicine for a troubled mind is comforting food."

How long had it been since the prince was shown such kindness? Perhaps a week, since he had last been graced with Joshua's pleasant company, but barring that he could not say. Dion offered the girl a wan smile, hoping his gratitude shone in his words rather than this expression. "Your grandmother is a wise woman indeed. And it sounds like you have the ingredients for a veritable feast. I accept your invitation."

So the young girl led the way past dingy huts and hovels until she came to one of her own, the interior shining a brilliant, moonlit blue from the open window. The furniture was predictably sparse but Dion found that the bed he sat upon was comfortable enough. Hardly worse than the cots he and his soldiers used while deployed for war.

A fire was coaxed to life, a tarnished kettle placed upon it to boil, the bread sliced and toasted and garnished with a thin spread of margarine with care. A meager thing to look at, but as Dion sipped his tea and picked at his toast he found that it was the most nourishing fare he'd been gifted with in quite some years, for his heartache had been beaten back into the quiet corners of his mind while he enjoyed his humble meal.

"I give you my heartiest thanks, my lady." Dion declared once he had dusted the last of the crumbs from his mouth.

The girl smiled, a warm thing that brightened her face and the prince's heart. "You're welcome, milord. But I'm hardly a proper Lady… Oh, I didn't introduce myself! My name is Kihel."

Unable to stifle his amusement, Dion chuckled as he gave a shallow bow of his head. "It is an honor to properly make your acquaintance, Kihel. You may call me Dion."

Her cheeks having turned rosy, Kihel busied herself by collecting their empty cups to wash them in the basin nearby. "Dion… May I ask what you were doing standing around outside? "

"You may." A soft sigh passed the prince's lips. "Some time ago I was given a task of great importance by my father. One that would determine whether I would be welcomed home upon my success or failure to achieve it. I thought it a surety, so certain was I of my ability to achieve that goal, yet at every turn I find myself falling short. I thought to track my quarry's scent yet was led astray. I thought to consult a hunter with experience tracking the same creature and was given an impossible price to pay. I thought to seek the aid of outlaws and was given a fairer ultimatum: to find the outlaws a new healer. But I have been turned away by every single physicker I have begged to give them a chance… I fear I will never return home."

Worse, what Dion did not say, would not dare utter lest he speak it into existence: he feared home was no longer the place or the people he had once thought it to be.

The bed creaked faintly when Kihel retook her seat beside the prince. "You seek a healer?"

"I sought one, yes." Dion admitted pitifully. "My time has run out. I am to return to them on the morrow and report my failure, though I dread to do so."

"Perhaps I can help? I'm not as gifted as my grandmother was with healing, but she taught me how to make salves and poultices."

A flicker of light ignited within the prince's heart. So small yet bright enough to hold back the shadow of his despair. He turned to her with an open display of the hope that had returned to him. "... You would do this? You would leave your home and help a group of outlaws?"

Kihel nodded, with a look that proclaimed how ridiculous she thought the question to be. "No one deserves to be left hurting, even people who break rules. Besides, this isn't really home for me. Grandmother passed away months ago, and I ended up here because I couldn't keep wandering." She paused. "I'll be sad to leave my friends behind, but if someone needs my help I want to give it to them."

Awe and wonder filled the prince's eyes. Amazement and joy and unending gratitude threatened to burst forth from where they sat cocooned in his chest, which he wrestled into submission lest he embarrass himself more. Instead, he took hold of one of her dainty hands and smiled the brightest he had in weeks. "Thank you, my lady. In fact I cannot possibly thank you enough in mere words…"

Kihel returned his smile sweetly, though it shifted towards a look of curiosity. "Will we need to leave right away? I don't have much to pack, I could be ready as soon as I gather my herbs and tools."

"We'll leave at first light." Dion explained.

He helped her pack away what little she owned that could not be left behind; the herbs that were essential and difficult to grow on a whim, her cookware and gardening supplies, what few changes of clothes she possessed. All of it fit neatly on Vereena's saddle, and he was gifted with the look of astonishment on Kihel's face when she first laid eyes on the wyvern. They slept that night not in the shabby hut Kihel had been residing in but at the inn Dion had rented a room from, humble to his own sensibilities but quite lavish to the urchin girl.

Morning arrived and they took to the skies together, with Kihel squealing in delight upon ascending to the line of clouds far above the ground and Dion laughing along with her. At last their luck had turned.

Once they'd reached the town of Lostwing the duo searched for the man Clive had mentioned, Quentin, though their search was hardly a lengthy one. Quentin was a well known figure in the community and had in fact been expecting the prince. The man didn't hide his skepticism in Dion's choice of healer, but he agreed to pass along directions to where the prince would find "Cid" and his crew waiting for them.

The Deadlands were home to very few beings in that age, for it was a large swath of barren land where no life sprung forth from the ground. A horrid location to build farms or towns, but a perfect place for one to build a hideaway free from prying eyes. And this particular hideaway was far more remote given that it sat upon the bones of an ancient airship submerged in a wide lake. Once more Dion was grateful to have Vereena's wings to carry them across the water where they landed primly on the docks.

There were a few gasps and swears, particularly from the startled boatsman, but above all the din called a voice that was music to Dion's longing ears.

"Your Highness!" Came Joshua's call from the balcony above. Dion had only a moment to take in the sight of his face framed by that familiar golden halo before the man took off at a sprint along the upper floor, to what Dion realized was a lift that would bring Joshua down to the docks.

The prince's feet carried him halfway there without his even meaning to, though he hurried along once the lift had fully descended. The gate was moved away and in a flash Joshua had thrown himself into the prince's arms, and the prince wished that he could hold Joshua even closer than physically possible, wished that he could draw their souls together so that they might never be parted again.

"Dion…" Joshua breathed. "Oh, how my heart is glad to see you…"

"As is mine."

Reluctant as they were to let go of each other, Dion pulled away as Clive, Jill, and an older man stepped off of the lift to join them. Back straight, Dion gave a respectful bow and gestured for Kihel to stand at his side. "I present to you all Kihel the Healer. Though she may be young, she has a good heart and experience with medicine. And where so many others refused to give aid she was willing to journey here to help how she can. I hope that this will satisfy the terms of our agreement."

Clive and Jill shared a look of surprise, though their attentions soon turned to the nameless man beside them. He strode closer and knelt down to be at eye level with Kihel, studying her for a lengthy moment before holding out a gloved hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, lass. The name's Cid. I can already tell Tarja'll be delighted to see you."

Smiling shyly, Kihel shook his hand. Dion stared at the man as he stood back to his full height, curiosity and confusion in his words. "Your name is Cid? Surely not the Cid? Kupka insinuated he had passed away."

"Understandably, since I had my crew spread the rumor of my demise myself." Cid explained with a wry smile. "Now, about the deal that was made… Considering we didn't expect you to have anyone with you, it'd be silly to go back on our word now. Especially since our need was never quite so urgent as Jill made it out to be."

"What??"

"It's true we could always use new helpers, but Tarja was never missing. Yet you actually found someone and followed through on your end of the bargain. The situation came out alright in the end." Cid had a crooked grin on his face and the prince…

Well, the prince could only laugh.

How ridiculous this all was. How utterly comical. When at last his laughter faded he shook his head at them all. "So it has."

Jill stepped towards him then with an apologetic smile. "Forgive me for the ruse, but I thought it would serve well to fuel your search."

"It did indeed. Tell me," Dion said as he looked at her. "Have you judged my honor true? Have I proven my trustworthiness?"

"That is for me to decide." Clive strode forward, his expression even but his eyes hardened. "You made good on your word, that much is clear. But I would know what you intend to do once you've found the Firebird."

That was the true crux of the matter, after all. Though certainty had often proved to humble him upon his path, Dion felt he knew what must be done. "I must return with it." A confession that had the understandable effect of souring Clive's expression. "I would prove myself to His Radiance and the people of Sanbreque. I will present the Firebird before my father as he demanded, but I will not allow him to possess it. It shall go free even if I must forsake all that I hold dear to do so; even if I must give my life for it."

A warm hand fitted itself in Dion's and Joshua spoke softly. "I pray that will not be necessary."

"As do we all." Cid added, arms folded over his chest and a hand rested at his chin thoughtfully. "Well, Clive? Yours is the last vote yet to be cast. What'll it be?"

It wasn't the prince that Clive's focus was on at that moment. His gaze was affixed squarely on Joshua at Dion's side, a series of conflicted emotions flitting over his face before it settled into acceptance. "We'll all be holding you to your word, Your Highness."

Swallowing down the surge of relief welling inside of him, Dion bowed his head. "I would expect nothing else."

"Well then," came Cid's voice again. "We'd best prepare for a long trek."

Dion blinked in confusion. "We?"

"Aye," Cid confirmed, a grin turning up the corners of his lips. "The only one we can get you in contact with who has any right to share the location of the Aerie isn't exactly the most amicable dame in the world. So apologies if His Highness minds the extra company, but I'll be tagging along to smooth things over."

"And don't forget Clive and I." Jill had her hands on her hips with a small, sly smile. "We've spent far too many years apart from Joshua to let him back out of our sight any time soon."

The prince took this all in, his gaze flicking from one individual to the next, eventually letting out a chuckle. "Very well then. But I fear we'll not all manage to fit on Vereena's back."

A quiet chorus of laughter answered him, as well as a clap on the back from Cid. "Hence the trek. Rest and restock yourself, Your Highness. We'll be off to the heart of Rosaria."

As the group would need several days to prepare for their journey, Dion found himself becoming quite familiar with the people of Cid's hideaway. Their troupe consisted of a colorful variety of people from more walks of life than the prince could have ever guessed, even including the man who had once served as his tutor in childhood. He drank with them in their halls and listened to the tales they had to tell, watched as Kihel was welcomed into their fold and given a new home. Each night he would make his way back to the room he shared with Joshua where they would prepare for bed together as they had been doing for weeks, talking quietly about whatever came to mind.

On their final night before they were to depart for Rosaria, Dion broached a subject that he had been curious about for some time. "Joshua… Do you believe your brother will ever change his opinion of me?"

Joshua, who had at that time been tidying up his bed covers, paused to consider the question. "What do you believe his opinion of you is?"

"I would not blame him for thinking me a spoiled prince desperate for his father's love." Dion whispered bitterly. "There are days I fear it to be true."

"Then allow me to dispel those fears, Your Highness. I do not deny you value your father's approval highly, but you are no spoiled brat." Dion turned just as a warm hand settled on his arm, Joshua offering a comforting smile. "I've met my share. You're nothing like them."

"Perhaps. Yet it does not change the way Clive looks at me."

A soft sigh escaped Joshua. "My brother has his reasons. A few of them, in fact. I dare not even imagine what Clive went through while he was trapped beneath His Radiance's thumb."

The prince's brows pinched together, confusion plain in his tone. "I still do not understand… Why did my father enslave him? His menagerie was made for beasts not Bearers, or so I was led to believe."

"It was for both." Joshua corrected him. "Clive mentioned there were several Bearers kept within, ones with particularly potent magic. Some were even lent to the military, trained as assassins. Somewhat more disposable than the rest of the Bearers they employed. But…" A shadow fell across his face. "But Clive was different."

"Different?"

The hand on Dion's arm traveled north until it settled on his shoulder, with a firmer grip than before. "Dion… If I am to explain, you must swear to secrecy. Not even Clive can know that I have told you, for he would be furious with me. I would not entertain the idea if I was not certain you would eventually learn of the truth."

The prince laid a hand over Joshua's, voice solemn. "I swear. No secret shall pass my lips."

Drawing in a deep and steadying breath, Joshua began his explanation. "Clive is no Bearer, but he was given into the emperor's clutches as such, a lie told by our mother. As you seek your father's love, Clive so desperately sought hers - yet always fell short. But though he is not a Bearer, Clive is special - a fact I fear your father must have learned after acquiring him, and one I have known about my brother since we were children. For you see, he is a Hell Hound. A creature gifted with infernal flames that can burn a man alive."

Shock left the prince's jaw slack. The Hell Hound! He had seen it but twice in his life; both times the beast - its skin like roiling magma and horns wickedly curved - had been on display before the emperor's throne, chained with pure adamantite to withstand the creature's scorching heat. A display of His Radiance's power to those who would underestimate him.

A show of his father's cruelty; to bind a man and flaunt the indignity for all to see.

"That is the truth of why I was in the garden that night, Dion." Joshua continued on. "For years I had been seeking a way into the castle to free him… How ironic that the night I came closest, Clive had already been free for months."

"Then it is no wonder your brother distrusts me." Dion muttered. "I stood mere feet from him unaware that he was a man, yet even then I could have vied for the Hound's freedom and instead did nothing."

"But that has changed, has it not?" Joshua stepped closer, drawing Dion's gaze up with a gentle touch to the jaw. "Clive will see that. He may have already."

"I hope he will. Sooner rather than later, for I… My father's approval is not the only one I seek."

Joshua's head tipped to the side, a motion that brought a smile to the prince's lips. "Is that so?"

"It is." Slowly, timidly did the prince bring his hand to cradle Joshua's cheek, the man's skin soft and rapidly warming beneath his touch. "For you have captivated me, Joshua; mind, body, and soul. And if you were willing, I would very much like to court you."

Blue eyes bright and wide as saucers, Joshua's breath stuttered. "Y-Your Highness…"

"Dion, please." The prince insisted softly.

Which earned a shy smile in turn. "Dion."

Heads bowed together, their lips met in a kiss that the prince and his beloved would remember for all of their days, sweet and chaste. One that preceded many more through the night long after they found their way into the prince's bed.

Chapter Text

When morning came Dion and Joshua lingered in a joined embrace, willing their journey to be delayed a day more, but they both knew it could not be. Yet it would not keep them from remaining near to each other once they had departed from the hideaway, steering their steeds to march side by side on the road and laying their bed rolls close together in camp so that they could sleep with hands entwined.

Soon they had crossed into the marshes of Rosaria, which Dion learned was Clive and Joshua's homeland before their tragic parting, and he listened avidly to the childhood tales they and Jill shared along the way. If not for the implication of their visit to the fallen duchy, Dion could have convinced himself they were all merely on a pleasant trip to sightsee. Alas, they would reach the end of their journey soon and the prince would reach the end of his quest.

It was Cid who brought reality back to their attention, having excused himself during their stop in one of the local villages to speak with a contact of his. "We're in luck, Your Highness; scouts say that Benedikta has been sighted near the old fort to the north. That'll probably be where she's made her home until the seasons turn."

"Seems an odd choice." Dion noted.

"Perhaps to you. You're no harpy, though. Unless you're hiding a bunch of feathers beneath that coat of mail." Cid said in jest, laughing at the wide-eyed expression on the prince's face.

"A harpy?" The prince echoed. "But they are vicious creatures. What makes you believe that one would ever agree to help me? It would just as soon sink its talons into our hearts."

Cid's laughter had petered out into a wistful chuckle by then, fondness in the man's words. "Aye, maybe. This one certainly wishes she could get at mine… Have faith, Your Highness. Benedikta will listen if I vouch for you. But don't expect it to be easy to please her."

Thus they set out the next day to march northward. As they went, the atmosphere grew more foreboding. Locals who saw them pass seemed to know what their heading was and watched silently on; the lively chatter that had been shared amongst the prince's band quieted, replaced with somber silence. The prince knew not what could be the cause of such melancholy and he dreaded discovering its source.

Cracked and shattered stone greeted them upon arrival. Dion thought to himself that the description of "old fort" had been an understatement on Cid's part, for in his mind the words "ruined" or "ravaged" seemed more apt. The fort's high tower still stood despite much of the outer walls having crumbled, and scorch marks were left as scars on every surface. With the evening sun casting scarlet light all around, Dion could have been fooled into believing the fortress was still ablaze from whatever vicious battle had left it in such a dreadful state.

"Take care, Your Highness." Cid cautioned from the head of their group. "Harpies are territorial, but we need Benedikta and her sisters on our side. Raise no blade, not even in defense."

"Sisters?"

In answer, a shrill bird's cry pierced the quiet, the air around them stirring as a pair of feathered figures descended upon the prince and his companions. Razor sharp talons grazed his skin, tearing his sleeves to shreds when Dion attempted to protect himself and Joshua with arms raised.

Yet Cid did not flinch under threat of their attacks. He stood resolute and lifted his voice so that it boomed and echoed against the remaining stone walls like thunder. "Sisters of the winds! These travelers are under my protection! We have come seeking favor from your eldest!"

More shrieks sounded in response to his announcement. But to the prince's great relief the creatures retreated from their victims, alighting upon the wooden skeleton of what once may have been a stable. Now still, Dion could study the duo better. There could be no pair of beings more opposite in appearance. One was slight of frame, the other broad and hulking. The first pale of skin and feathers to the point of nearly appearing pink, the second with features so dark that her jade-colored eyes stood starkly in contrast. Each bearing similar markings of crimson paint adorning their faces, yet with the traces of dried blood staining their hands and feet Dion was left second guessing whether it was truly paint at all.

The larger of the two spoke, her voice melodic and deceptively sweet. "See here, dear Chirada? The wayward soldier returns as I said he would."

"How predictable." The other, Chirada, gave a haughty laugh. "And as you said, only after he requires her services. Humans never change, do they?"

"Never indeed."

"Think of me what you will," Cid called out. "All I ask is to speak with Benedikta."

Chirada silenced him with a harsh chirp, her feathers quivering. "Pompous, demanding humans. Ought we teach him better manners, Suparna?"

But the first harpy, Suparna, looked from Cid to each of his companions with a stare that pierced through the prince's soul when it fell upon him. "Our sister cannot help you, Cidolfus. She has been taken."

"Taken?" Dion echoed, gathering his courage to step forward. "By whom?"

"By one he knows well." Chirada bared her fangs towards Cid. "The man he once called his liege. Lord of Ash, some name him. The Black King of Waloed."

A figure Dion also knew too well. The Black King was tyrant and monarch of Sanbreque's greatest rival, one whom the prince had crossed blades with on the battlefield often. He came close once to cutting the king down, but Barnabas Tharmr was a ruthless swordsman and ever accompanied by his cunning and faithful commander, Sleipnir Harbard. If not for the quick thinking of his dear friend Sir Terence, Dion might not have lived long enough to be sent after the Firebird.

What baffled the prince was trying to understand why the Black King would be in Rosaria, and why would he have captured a harpy?

"Oh, Benna…" Cid murmured. "What have you gotten tangled up in now?"

Suparna clicked her obsidian tongue derisively. "Save your pity. It was your heartlessness that drove her into his arms! You abandoned her."

"Where has the king taken her?" Dion asked, shoulders squared.

Both harpies turned their sharp gazes upon him, then to each other. Tension lingered in the air while they shared in unspoken conversation. It was Chirada who broke the silence, taking wing to settle on a section of the fort's wall that had yet to collapse, facing northward. "Into the blighted lands. It was there that he lured Benedikta with promises of his adoration, a fortnight past now. We have not heard her call since."

A journey into those lifeless hills would be no easy task, but then when had any step along this journey been an easy one? Dion resolved himself. "I will find her and return with your sister if I am able. I have faced the king in the past; I will do so again if I must to bring Benedikta home."

"We all will." Joshua added, his hand rested on the hilt of the sword he bore at his hip. Likewise, the rest of their traveling companions indicated their agreement. And though Dion feared to lead them into danger, his heart had filled itself to the brim with gratitude for their willingness to venture forth.

The dilapidated fort sat nearly on the boundary between Rosaria and the long-fallen Northern Territories, once a proud monarchy that had fallen to the life-sapping scourge that threatened year by year to overwhelm all of Valisthea. Thus they were greeted almost immediately after departing by ashen gray wastes and the eerie silence borne from a lack of wildlife. What little life remained took the form of beastmen that made camps along the outskirts of the blighted lands for safety, that they might then march upon the unsuspecting villages of Rosaria and Sanbreque when the need arose. These creatures Dion and his companions slew with ease and unburdened conscience. Yet they found as they went that the beastmen of the area had grown in numbers beyond expectation, as well as in variety.

Goblins were often the most plentiful in northern Storm, yet they soon found themselves met with orcs from the eastern lands of Ash. Servants of Waloed, Cid explained, brought beneath the Black King's banner to make use of their brutality. Their presence served at least one good purpose: the orcs' trail led them directly to where Benedikta was being held captive.

At the bottom of a deep basin they were greeted by the blackened bones of an ancient port, its districts filled with husks of houses and shops now home to beastmen and royalists. In the bay sat the feared flagship of Waloed's navy, the Einherjar, and as the group fought their way towards it they could hear shrieks and curses coming from a cage mounted on its main deck. Within they could see the ivory feathered form of a harpy, and she lashed out at the black-clad figure before her.

"You'll pay for this, Barnabas!" She spat. "I'll tear you limb from limb!"

The man paid her threats no attention, and neither did he turn as the prince and his companions stormed the deck. He did not need to, for as soon as they set foot upon the deck a blade came crashing down upon Dion, who reacted just swift enough to avoid being skewered.

"Harbard," the prince growled the name out before forcing the king's commander back with all his might.

"So far from your pristine palace, Your Highness?" Sleipnir's voice was infuriatingly melodic in its casualness. Even with his helmet donned Dion could still picture the pompous grin the man no doubt wore, even as he took a combative stance against the group. His silver armor shimmered in the midday light, glittering enough to dazzle the eyes, shifting in such a way that there almost appeared to be a duplicate of him. "Princes should know when to mind their own business."

At Dion's side, Cid brandished his own blade. "Careful, Your Highness. It's no trick of the light you're seeing."

"Cidolfus?" Benedikta's voice was small, almost overtaken by the commander's own.

"You always were a spoilsport, Cidolfus. But I suppose there is still fun to be had even with the surprise ruined." In a flash the commander had bridged the gap between himself and the prince once more, though as Dion brought his halberd up in defense he saw the shimmer of light intensify and an identical copy of the man materialized beside him, only thwarted in its attempts to gut him by Cid's quick reflexes in blocking the second Harbard's blade.

From there the ship erupted in chaos.

Their advantage in numbers was swept away by the appearance of more and more copies of the sterling clad commander, a match for each combatant. And all throughout the fight the Black King watched on passively. Each time the prince attempted to confront the king a version of Sleipnir would intercept and draw him away. Worse still, it seemed that the commander and his duplicates had nearly endless stamina, wearing away at the already exhausted rescuers with boundless vigor.

A new strategy needed to be devised. But it was not the prince who enacted one, in spite of his attempts at trying.

"Everyone!" Joshua cried out. "Hold your ground!"

Clive's head whipped around so sharply that the prince feared his neck would snap, shock on his face. "Brother, no!"

But he had no time to intervene. Joshua had already ascended to the upper deck, having to fend off a fresh copy of the commander to do so. Then something truly baffling occurred. Light gathered in a halo around Joshua, scarlet radiance that took the form of licking flames. Even from the distance that Dion stood he could see the brilliance of his beloved's eyes alight with magic. Motes of fire burst forth from the halo, veering around the battlefield to hunt down the nimble duplicates and smite them until only the original Sleipnir stood heaving at his liege's side.

Clive was not the only one with a secret, it seemed.

"You struggle so for a single pitious creature?" The Black King spoke at last, surveying them disinterestedly.

"No one deserves a cage!" Jill countered, fury in her eyes unlike anything Dion had seen from her prior. "Stand aside while you can. You're outnumbered and outmatched."

"Am I?"

Dion's instincts were on high alert. He knew what the Black King was capable of, but there was little he, a mortal prince, could do to protect them all. Darkness and shadows coalesced in Barnabas' hand, forming a wickedly sharp blade that the prince had seen cut through stone and steel as easily as warmed butter. Even with a proper shield in hand they would stand no chance against its cruel edge. Defense would serve them little.

"Cid," Dion spoke low as the Black King circled the group, his commander mirroring his steps to entrap them. "Make for Benedikta's cage. If we are to fall here I would have her at least go free."

A huff was his immediate answer, the outlaw holding Harbard's gaze as the commander neared him. "No need to tell me twice, Your Highness."

For a moment more, all was silent.

Crimson shadows engulfed the king's blade. He and the prince moved in tandem, the wide arc of a blade passing beneath Dion as he lept skyward, and the deck once more became a field of chaos. Cid and Jill fought side by side against Harbard, aided by the occasional gout of fire from Joshua who remained above them. Clive and Dion faced Barnabas with coordination born from rigorous discipline. Neither were able to so much as scratch the king but they remained far enough from his blade to avoid increasingly lethal blows.

Until Dion faltered.

The king had beared down upon Clive in an attempt to back the man into a corner, but he whirled upon Dion the moment the prince attempted to take advantage of his exposed flank. Obsidian metal arced towards him, inches from his face and slicing clean through the haft of the prince's halberd.

"Dion!" Joshua called. Leaping down to the main deck, fire wreathing his form, he moved between the prince and the king with hand outstretched. The Black King's blade descended and at last met resistance in the form of the blazing light Joshua called forth to shield them. Flames that grew darker as an eruption from behind Barnabas scorched the wood of the deck.

A beast emerged from the embers where Clive once stood, a hulking hound of molten rock, wicked claws, devilish horns, and piercing fangs bared at the king.

The Hell Hound.

In that same moment the shrill cry of a harpy filled the air, and Dion watched as Benedikta took to the skies, swift wings carrying her higher than the ship's mast stretched overhead.

The two beasts descended on their adversaries with all of the ferocity they were capable of; the Hell Hound clamping its fiery jaws down on Barnabas' shoulder, the harpy swooping down to snare the commander in her clutches and carry Sleipnir overboard, throwing his armored figure into the depths of the bay.

In response, the Black King raised his unholy blade to strike at the Hell Hound, but the prince and his beloved moved faster. Dion wrested the king's sword arm and held firm with all of his might, while Joshua brought his own thin blade down through the narrow gap above the king's breastplate.

"You will never harm another innocent." Joshua vowed through gritted teeth.

The king's body lurched; the only sound he could make was a raspy gasp for air - and then to their shock his form dissipated into smoke, the only trace of his existence being that of his ebony armor left to tumble onto the deck.

The Black King had been felled.

It ought to have been a moment of glory. The prince should have been overjoyed, should have been amongst his men to celebrate this victory over their oldest enemy.

Alas, there was still work that needed to be done.

Gathering the Black King's helm to take as a trophy, Dion and his companions regrouped outside of the abandoned port town to be spared any interference from what remained of the beast men. Benedikta agreed that she would help the prince locate the Aerie, but only after she was returned to her sisters. The prince obliged her, and they soon departed for the fort she and her kin had made their roost.

The return journey was much less eventful and much quieter, as there were a great many things on Dion's mind; not least of which was the revelation that his beloved possessed magic. The prince had carefully acted the part of naivete in the face of Clive's revealed status as a Hell Hound, an act that was helped by the more genuine surprise at Joshua's status as a Bearer.

"Forgive me, Joshua," Dion had whispered one night while they made camp in the blighted lands. "I wish you had not needed to fear being truthful about yourself with me. I would have you know that my affections for you have not changed."

"I am relieved to hear it." Joshua's voice was soft and strained, as though there were more he wished to say but could not allow himself to. Dion did not try to needle him for more.

As the ashen wastes returned to green hills and woods, Benedikta took flight to call out on the winds. Her cry was answered shortly after by two familiar ones, Chirada and Suparna's songs of relief and delight, and once they had neared the fort the pair of harpies raced out to embrace their elder sister jubilantly. When at last their joy-filled crooning softened to hushed words, the trio landed on the earth to address the prince and his companions.

"Thank you for returning our sister to us." Suparna bowed low and Chirada followed soon after, their wings spread wide with the gesture.

"It was the right thing to do." Dion explained.

Benedikta dipped her head to him, not nearly as reverent as her sisters but nevertheless genuine in her gratitude. "I shall lead you to the Aerie as you requested."

"Thank you, my lady."

At that the harpies gave a round of chirping laughter. Benedikta's hawkish gaze briefly fell upon Cid, a storm darkening her expression. "If only more men were so well-mannered."

It was decided that their group would make camp in the fort after their long jaunt from the blighted lands and depart for the Aerie at dawn. Whilst Dion and Jill prepared their bedrolls and a fire, Joshua excused himself to speak privately with his brother and Cid. They stood together at the edge of the fort's battered walls speaking at length with furrowed brows and decidedly unhappy expressions. Dion hoped that when they returned he would be able to lighten Joshua's mood. Instead, he was given disappointing news.

"I must leave your company for a time, Dion." Joshua spoke plainly. "My brother and I both will be. Our father was buried in Rosaria, and it has been many years since I last visited his grave. Longer still in Clive's case."

Gathering Joshua's hands into his own, the prince laid a kiss upon them. "I understand. But now? When we are so close to the end of this quest?"

"Yes, now." With their heads bowed together, Joshua's breath ghosted over Dion's skin, his lips tantalizing in their proximity. "I will return to you. I swear it. We will reconvene with you at the Aerie as soon as we can. We may even arrive quicker than you will."

A smile grew on the prince's face and Dion cradled his beloved's jaw in his hand. "Then I shall not mourn your company but await it."

They shared together a cherished night and come morning parted with heavy hearts lightened by the knowledge that they would be together again soon. So too did Benedikta bid her brief farewells to her sisters, trusting their roost to Suparna and Chirada's care while she was away. Jill and Cid awaited the prince patiently, then together they departed westward with Benedikta soaring overhead to guide them.

Chapter Text

Their destination would be three days' march by chocobo - a single day by wing as Benedikta tauntingly pointed out. To the once-grand seat of power for a once-grand duchy: the capital and castle of Rosalith. Fallen long before Dion's birth, further back than any who still lived could recall by memory. The names of its last rulers had faded through the years, its territory passing hands innumerable times; from the zealous crusading Ironbloods, to the Empire of Sanbreque itself, until at last - at least during the prince's age - regaining a measure of autonomy to be governed by its own lords. But none had ever resettled the capital city. Many claimed it to be cursed. Haunted by the specters of the royal family or overtaken by malicious beasts.

Dion supposed, as they drew within sight of the abandoned city, that they would soon discover what remained for themselves.

"On to the castle with you." Benedikta called once they reached the city's gates. "I have a friend to reunite with properly. Do try not to tarry overlong!" With that, she was away as swift as the winds themselves, vanishing towards the castle ahead of them.

Each step taken towards their destination was burdened, the prince confronted with the gravity of what was to come. Whether the Firebird was present when they arrived or not, it mattered little. He would wait an eternity for it to return to its roost. Then the true ordeal would be undertaken. He was not naive enough to think the creature would return to the empire with him willingly, but he hoped beyond hope that he would not need to harm it. Oh how he wished that Joshua were with him now to soothe his heart. Alas, though Joshua had sworn to reunite with the prince, it seemed that he and Clive had not managed to arrive before Dion and the others after all.

And so, steeling his nerves, the prince strode through forsaken streets towards his destiny.

The solemn quiet of the empty city fell away as they drew towards the castle, birdsong and the familiar calls of dragons filling the air. They found that the castle's bailey was home to a flock of wild chocobos, that the ramparts and towers high overhead had been claimed by dragonets and wyverns who bathed themselves in the midday sun.

And there in the main courtyard they saw Benedikta preening feathers together with none other than the Firebird.

True, it could have been any other Firebird from all across Valisthea. Yet Dion knew in his heart, in his soul, that this was the very same he had encountered in the royal gardens that night. Its plumage was as radiant as he remembered. Its many tail feathers swept over the grass when it turned its gem-like eyes upon the prince.

Jill and Cid kept back as Dion stepped forward.

The Firebird waited and it watched.

"Please forgive my intrusion into your home." The prince spoke softly. "I traveled long and far to find you."

The Firebird's feathers trembled ever so slightly as it regarded him. At its side, Benedikta gave the creature a sideways glance before dismissing herself to move past the prince, towards where his companions stood as audience.

"You are even more ethereal in your beauty this close. Perhaps the most magnificent creature I will ever lay eyes upon."

A soft trill slipped from the Firebird's beak. It bowed its head as though bashful for a moment, until it turned its luminous sapphire gaze back upon him.

"I wonder that you might already know why I came here." As it often had, guilt gathered thickly in Dion's throat. "What my mission was in tracking you down. My father would see you in a cage, or perhaps worse. He is quite furious with you. And I… I was tasked with being the one to bring you to him. I told myself, my companions, that I would follow through on a half measure. I would bring you forth before the emperor as he demanded then give my life to set you free…"

By then the prince stood but a palm's width from the Firebird, its head bowed close enough that he could see the minute details of its dark beak, the signs of wear and the smallest feathers that surrounded the keratin. Slowly Dion raised a hand to soothe along the curve of the creature's beak, looking up into pools of molten blue light.

And he smiled.

"I cannot ask you to come with me. You deserve your freedom and your family. I will not endanger you. I would never be able to live with myself if I did. Because you deserve better, and because I love you, Joshua…"

Jubilant song burst forth from the Firebird, as too did a display of brilliant light that made its scarlet feathers appear to burn from heatless flames. Its beak pressed briefly to the top of the prince's head before that bright light grew blinding, and soon Dion found Joshua in his arms again.

"Oh, Dion." Joshua whispered into the softness of his beloved's hair. "My clever prince. It pained me to continue hiding the truth from you. When did you realize it?"

Dion took Joshua's face in gentle hands, smiling so brightly that it became almost painful. "Only just now. I would know those eyes anywhere. It was you that night in the orchard, wasn't it?"

Fingers tightened in the fabric of the prince's tunic. "It was. And each time before. I did not lie to you, Dion. I had tried time and again to enter the palace and free my brother, and when my efforts proved fruitless I sought petty retribution. I saw that he had stolen the gilded tree and thought that I might sabotage him. A man so cruel does not deserve the gift of unending life."

Words that should have pained Dion now left only an ache in his chest. He brushed the golden fringe from Joshua's eyes. "You need not trouble yourself over my father anymore. There will be no returning to Sanbreque. Put him out of your mind and we can find a new home together."

Blue eyes widening, Joshua shook his head. "On the contrary. I will go with you to face His Radiance."

"What?" Dion's heart seized in his chest.

"You have worked too hard to turn back now. And I would face His Radiance with you." Joshua's expression had hardened. "He will see the pain he has wrought. All the agony that you, my brother, and I have suffered at his behest cannot go unanswered."

"We tried to deter him," came Clive's voice as he approached with Cid and Jill at his side. "But my little brother has ever been stubborn when he puts his mind to a task."

"You would not go alone." Jill stated. "We'd never allow Joshua to go near that monster without us to protect him."

Dion looked from each of their companions to the other, then to Joshua himself. "You are certain of this? The risk is too great-"

"I would burn the castle to the ground before they could see me in chains." Joshua said defiantly.

Such a threat would have infuriated the prince some months prior. Understandably so, for Whitewyrm Castle was his home and the people within were either innocent or merely complacent in his father's deviousness. Instead, Dion merely whispered, "Let us pray it will not be necessary."

With the truth of the Firebird's identity now revealed, the matter of traveling back to Sanbreque became trivial. For Joshua could bear himself and one other on his luminescent wings, choosing Clive to allow onto his back. Dion's wyvern, Vereena, returned to the prince's side obediently when he whistled for her and upon her saddle he and Jill flew together. Which left Cid to be carried by Benedikta the Harpy, whose generosity appeared to be born more of a desire to give the man a piece of her mind while he was trapped in her talons. Their troupe reconvened in the gate city just outside of the capital of Sanbreque for fear of inciting a panic amongst the citizenry. It also served to allow the prince time to consider how he would approach the emperor.

The following day saw them marching towards the castle, its lofty towers rising high from the hill upon which Whitewyrm perched. A mix of reactions from the citizens were stirred up in their passing. Many were jubilant to see their noble prince returned to them safe and sound, and with the Firebird perched upon his arm no less. Others feared what the creature's presence heralded, some latent doom to be set upon the prince or the emperor - and their fears were not soothed by the keen-eyed harpy that circled overhead of the group. Still others were in awe not at the prince himself or his quarry but at the hooded man beside him who carried in his arms the unmistakable helm of the Black King.

As the prince neared his home he was approached by a number of soldiers who had served under him in battle, led by his dear companion Sir Terence. He welcomed his loyal men at his side and prayed that should the worst come he would be able to depend upon their spears.

The emperor received the prince in the royal garden where our tale first began. Stood at the end of the verdant avenue where the gilded tree stood glimmering in daylight, shading His Radiance beneath its boughs.

As he drew nearer to his father, Dion watched the emperor's gaze move dispassionately over his companions - Cid, Jill, and the hooded Clive - in favor of taking in the prince with his prize perched on his arm. His father's smile was once the one thing in all the lands Dion craved to be shown more than all else. Now it left him with guilt and despair.

"My son has returned triumphant in his hunt." Sylvestre declared to the gathered crowd. "Prince Dion has returned to us with the pesky Firebird that had proved itself a nuisance. See how certain he is of his hold on the creature that he has no need to cage it." Words that were spoken slyly in an attempt to mask what Dion knew his father truly felt: displeasure and distrust at seeing the Firebird unbound.

"I come bearing the creature you bade me find, Your Radiance, as well as a trophy from my efforts while afield." Dion gestured for Clive to lift the helmet in his hands for all to see. "For the Black King had taken port to the north in the blighted lands and summarily fell at the hands of my companions and myself. He shall trouble the empire no more."

Shocked whispers thrummed through the crowd.

Sylvestre silenced them with a single tap of his cane against the stone. "Sanbreque honors your dutifulness. This trophy will find an excellent home in our menagerie beside the Firebird's cage; for how little time the beast shall remain, that is."

"Your Radiance is mistaken," Dion spoke in defiance. "For the Firebird will not be caged."

Irritation hardened the line of Sylvestre's brow. But the emperor gave a dismissive wave of his hand, then gestured for one of his guards to approach the prince. "It shall be so, my son. That beast will know submission. Long enough to be made an example of for the citizenry of Oriflamme, that they might know what awaits in reward of such bold thievery. Then it shall be plucked of every luminous feather on its body to be prepared for a grand feast in your honor."

Horror gripped the prince's soul. To think his father capable of such cruelty had unfortunately become too common since his departure from the capital, but to think him so bold as to openly admit it. Yet before he could utter a word to oppose him, brilliant crimson light blinded the crowd and Joshua strode five paces towards the emperor before Dion seized hold of his arm.

"You heartless monster!" Joshua cried.

"What is this sorcery!?" The emperor reeled back in shock, and the guard who had been ordered to take the Firebird from Dion brandished their sword in fright.

"See now the cruel and callous tyrant you allowed onto your empire's throne!" Joshua swept his gaze over the crowd. "A man complicit in driving my kin to extinction! Willing to subjugate and enslave innocent lives like my brother and the Bearers you have made your beasts of burden!"

Sneering, Sylvestre stamped his cane against the stone to order silence from his citizens, though it did little good. "I have taken no brother of yours, you devilish fiend."

"Have you so quickly forgotten me, Your Radiance?" Clive strode forward, carelessly dropping the Black King's helm on the stone in favor of drawing his hood back. From beneath the dark fabric crimson cinders coalesced, forming the jagged horns he bore in his bestial form, those same embers dancing along his skin in great contrast to his otherworldly blue gaze. Men and women fled in terror at the sight of him, leaving only Sylvestre and his soldiers.

Never before had Dion seen his father frightened, always calm and collected. Yet the emperor could do little to mask the fear on his face, though it swiftly shifted towards fury. "Dion! Do not stand about - kill these damned pests!"

His heart hardened against the anguish of his father's callousness. Dion stood at Joshua's side and held the Firebird's hand within his own. "I will do no such thing."

"You would defy your emperor!?"

"I defy your cruelty!" Dion turned towards Joshua, the anger welling up within him briefly giving way for affection. "Do you not see that the creatures you have been abusing have wills of their own? Can you not see the fault in your hatred? I will lay no hand against another at your behest. And you will harm no hair nor feather on the head of my beloved."

The emperor's face twisted up in disgust. "You would lay with this… This foul beast? You would shame the empire so? I thought better of my son than to be seduced by wicked temptation. Guards! Detain the prince and kill these wretched creatures!"

The sound of swords being drawn from their scabbards proved to snap the final tether holding Dion's heart aloft. His father had forsaken him.

In the breath before chaos unfurled a spear flew through the air, tossed from Sir Terence to the prince for Dion to arm himself with. The revelation that Dion's dragoons would remain loyal to him rattled the emperor even before the fighting broke out. With their numbers on Dion's side the odds tipped further towards his favor. Helped, of course, by the unconventional companions that the prince had gathered on the very mission the emperor had given him.

Benedikta the Harpy descended on the soldiers with merciless viciousness. Her talons could not rend the metal of their armor but her strength proved enough to lift them from the ground and send them flying over the garden balcony.

Cid and Jill the Outlaws fought back-to-back with fierce blades, determined to keep the guards far from their friends.

Clive the Hell Hound unleashed his full fury upon all who stood in his way, carving through the ranks of soldiers with molten fangs and claws in an attempt to reach the emperor.

Joshua the Firebird remained close to his beloved, fending off anyone foolish enough to draw near with scorching flames.

And Dion the Prince of Sanbreque, Commander of the Knights Dragoon, cut down his fellow soldiers with a weeping heart.

Why had it come to this?

Why had his father forced him to turn against his own people?

A lull in the onslaught of bodies afforded the prince a moment to call out in desperation. "Father! Cease this needless bloodshed!"

Across the field of battle he met the emperor's gaze. What he witnessed in his father's eyes was a proud man seeing perhaps for the first time the flaws in all his carefully constructed machinations. Soldiers lay dead in the garden who had followed his orders, all at the hands of the people he had wronged and of his own progeny. Dion did not blame him for his moment of hesitance, until at last Sylvestre raised his voice. "Halt!" Then again when his voice proved firmer. "I said halt!"

Gradually the din of combat settled. The weapons wielded were not lowered, but every head had turned towards the emperor.

"My son… To me."

Hope fluttered within Dion. Yet as he took his first step towards his father, Joshua seized hold of his arm. "Dion, please…"

The prince took Joshua's hand in his own and pressed a kiss to his beloved's brow. "He is my father, Joshua." For all the man's faults, Dion had to hope that his father had at last come to his senses. And so he strode towards the emperor with head held high.

When the prince stood before his father, Dion nearly wept when Sylvestre graced him with a gentle hand at his cheek. Not since he was but a boy had the prince been shown such affection from the emperor. "I believe I see you more clearly now, Dion. I can see the man you have become."

"Under your careful guidance, Father."

A flicker of some unknowable emotion passed over Sylvestre's expression. "Perhaps so. May Greagor forgive me for my failings."

That fledgling hope in Dion's soul grew brighter. At last his father had seen the error of his ways.

But the emperor had not finished. He gestured towards the guard nearest to him who drew a war horn from their belt and blew into it. Dion knew its kind well. Horror overtook hope as he raised his eyes skyward. Overhead a troupe of wyverns flew from the nearby garrison, their riders tossing down metal nets over the prince's companions. Even Benedikta could not outpace them and soon became ensnared.

"No! Father you mustn't!"

"I will do what is best for my empire." Sylvestre declared. "Including protecting it from my own usurping bastard of a son."

"What!? Father, I-" But no further words passed the prince's lips. For as he turned to look upon his father's face the emperor drove a dagger into his neck. Through the shock of such betrayal Dion found startling clarity.

His father had long been lost to him.

A grieving wail split the air in the garden belonging to Joshua's voice. Heat to rival that of a wildfire grew at Dion's back and alarmed shouts told him that the nets had failed. Likely they had been crafted to withstand the Firebird's flames, but they would not have known to account for the Hell Hound. As it was not the Firebird whose form rushed past Dion but Clive's, and the prince watched with rapidly fading strength as the Hell Hound, no longer restrained by the prince's mercy, pounced upon the emperor and tore him to shreds.

Legs trembling, Dion dropped to his knees while clutching his bloodied neck. He felt himself growing limp but found when he fell that it was not stone that met his back but the warm arms of his beloved Joshua.

"Dion, please no…" Joshua whispered. Sorrow had darkened his gaze, filled his beautiful eyes with tears. "Stay awake, my love. P-Please, for me…"

The prince knew his time was rapidly coming to an end, the sand in his hourglass spilling as swiftly as the crimson staining his coat of mail. Not wishing to sully his beloved, he raised his unstained hand to cradle Joshua's face in his palm. His words rasped as blood pooled in his throat. "Be free…"

He would welcome death unburdened from his guilt knowing that Joshua and the others were safe.

"I won't go without you. Dion… Dion please-" Joshua begged, frantic as he wracked his mind for a solution. A Firebird's flames could heal as well as harm but such a grievous injury would require all his strength. He could perish in Dion's stead, and he knew his beloved would never forgive himself if Joshua chose such a course.

Then, as if it were a sign from the heavens, a golden apple was shaken loose from its branch and tumbled to the stone beside them.

A fruit said to be sowed by the goddess Greagor herself. Whose flesh could heal all ills.

Never before had Joshua tore into fruit so clumsily with his hands, carving out pieces small enough for Dion to swallow with ease. These he fed carefully to his beloved, whispering his shaky thanks when Jill knelt at the prince's side to slide the dagger free from his neck with care. As he worked, Joshua poured forth a measure of his healing flames to give Dion the strength to swallow.

When the last of the apple had been eaten Joshua waited. And waited. The blood had ceased flowing, though the wound had yet to seal.

Dion's eyes had fallen closed moments before.

His chest grew still.

"No…" Joshua whispered. "No, no it can't- Dion, wake up…" Fresh tears spilled forth. He drew the prince fully into his arms and cradled his face near to his grieving heart. "Dion… Dion…"

All who yet remained in the garden hung solemn heads for the tragedies they were witness to. An emperor slain, a prince murdured by his own regent, and a man who had lost his love. Soldiers who had turned upon each other let their weapons fall. The prince's companions gathered around his body in Joshua's arms.

Thus they saw a sight beheld by no man since the days of the Firebirds' Founder.

For the prince's form became illuminated by holy cerulean. Lifted up from Joshua's hold by an ethereal column of light that enveloped the prince until only his luminous silhouette remained. A silhouette that shifted before their eyes, sprouting elegant horns, a graceful tail, and a pair of draconic wings. From the crowd an exclamation came invoking Greagor's name.

Joshua struggled to stand in the same moment that the prince's feet alighted upon the stone. "... Dion?"

The prince's eyes opened, fixated upon Joshua and shining with an all too familiar cobalt light. "Joshua…"

"Dion!" He threw himself at the prince, seeking out the fatal wound, now sealed and bearing nary a scar to mark it. His beloved had been renewed, restored, revived. "I thought you lost to me…"

Steady arms held Joshua close, the prince's wings folding in to provide a measure of privacy from the crowd. "It seems the goddess had other plans for me. I am here, my love. And I will not leave you again so soon."

Jubilant that they had been granted such a miracle, the two embraced to the sounds of raucous cheering.

In the months that followed, their lives were utterly changed. With no ruler on the throne, there was debate amongst the Cardinals of Sanbreque as to how the empire would proceed. Many on the council were unwilling to abide the prince's claim to the throne, but they did not outnumber those who saw prudence in his ascendance - particularly as the public outcry in favor of their beloved prince was impossible to ignore. Let alone that it seemed the prince had been favored by their own goddess to be transformed and returned to them.

Prince Dion was crowned that summer as Emperor Dion Lesage, King of Dragons, and Commander of the Dragoons. He wed his dearly beloved soon after, naming him Emperor Consort Joshua Rosfield, the Firebird of Liberation.

They ruled together with compassion and were adored by their subjects, such that their names are uttered with nothing short of respect even to this day in what remains of their empire.

In the end one could say that Dion met the grim fate that befalls all who hunt Firebirds. After all, while his quarry may have gone free, he captured its heart in the end. Perhaps it was for this reason the gods granted him new life.

Thus do the people of Sanbreque tell of his tale - as we have now - long after his passing. For the Dragon Prince and his beloved Firebird live on so long as we remember them.