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Weak hands barely held the quill. Joshua sighed tiredly and helplessly put it aside.
The entire sheet was in ugly black blots, filling the uneven letters and crooked lines The letter looked ugly and sloppy, and the boy almost cried, looking at it. It was incredibly embarrassing to send such a thing to a friend, but it hurt, and the doctors told him not to strain his hands with writing practice at all. After all, a year ago he could not even raise his arms. A year ago, they doubted that Joshua would be alive at all.
A year ago, the Night of Flames happened at the Phoenix Gate.
The young Dominant did not die only by a miracle. He and his father were surrounded by traitors who somehow got into the fortress. Archduke Elwin Rosfield was beheaded in front of his son, thereby forcing the boy to use priming. There were rumors that the raging Phoenix was almost killed by another Eikon of Fire, but no one knew what he looked like or if he had a name, and it remained just a rumor. But Joshua remembered what happened that night. He was indeed attacked by another Eikon. And it was his brother, who had lost control.
But their fight was short. The Phoenix that captured Joshua seemed to finally listen to his cries and prayers. And instead of trying to defeat Clive - Ifrit - Eikon used his ether to do more than just heal someone. The Phoenix was able to bring life back to Elwin, the one little Joshua wanted to protect so much. After that, the Phoenix dissolved, as did Ifrit, who no longer needed to fight. They did not disappear without a trace, no, but from that day on, no one called upon them anymore. Because Clive could not forgive himself for what happened. Because Joshua, who gave all his strength to his father, died that night.
Elwin and Clive regained consciousness first. They were both barely moving, but alive and sane. But Joshua did not wake up, and only the Phoenix Flame kept his heart beating. Despite the doctors' words about the impossibility of saving the boy, the Archduke ordered to support his son's life, which was helped by the Undying, who knew more than anyone about the Phoenix's true abilities.
"Although the Phoenix is known for its healing abilities, He can really be reborn after death and resurrect others." one of the Undying members explained. "But this knowledge is dangerous. This happens in exceptional cases, and attempting to do so intentionally will only lead to the death of the Dominant."
And so Elwin and Clive refused to believe that the Eikon of the Flame had abandoned his Dominant.
And three months later, the boy opened his eyes.
He still could not speak or move, he looked as if he could crumble from the slightest breath of wind. But when Clive saw him and fell to his knees by the bed, sobbing, Joshua, with a grimace of pain, somehow managed to move his hand to touch his brother's head, comforting him.
And then every night he screamed. Nightmares kept him awake, choked him and wouldn't let him go, and his whole body, his whole being ached so much that in the morning the boy, his voice breaking, could only cry quietly.
"This is the price," Elwin said through tears, squeezing Clive's shoulder when he tried to run into Joshua's room every time, even if there was no way to help.
Resurrection was pain. Joshua was lucky that his body itself had not been damaged during priming, otherwise he would have woken up only after several years, but he still gave too much energy to bring his father back to life, and now all this pain was his retribution. However, in those rare moments when the ability to think returned to the Dominant through the veil of powerlessness, he never allowed the thought that he wanted to stop it. He felt that Phoenix himself did not want to let him go, and although many considered the Eikons too divine and above all earthly things, it seemed to Joshua that he did not even hear, but felt something that no human language could convey, but which he could still understand perfectly well.
Endure, my brave boy, the Phoenix begged him.
And he endured When they made him move to strengthen his muscles, when they made him concentrate on the simplest tasks, he did everything possible through tears and clenched teeth. And even when he almost fell, unable to bear it, he never asked his father and brother and the servants who ran up to him to leave him alone.
“Don’t leave me.” Joshua cried in delirium, when Clive came to him in the evenings to keep him company. “Please, don’t leave me.”
Most of all, he was afraid that everyone would tire of his helplessness and the need to look after him. That one day his Father would accuse him of capriciousness. That there would come a day when Jill would not come to read him a book, and Clive would not tell him what was happening in the castle and how the Duchy was recovering from the attack. Even his Uncle Byron, who came to visit him occasionally and who had always been the gentlest of all to Joshua, would one day think him a weakling.
But that day never came. Every day they visited him as much as possible, helped him, and one day Joshua discovered that he could hear and see better, that it was easier for him to lift his arms. He now read with Jill, because at last he could hold a book in his hands, and it was much easier to concentrate on the letters. He could even play a little with Torgal now, albeit without getting out of bed.
After another six months, he was told in more detail about what had happened at the Phoenix Gate. As his Father was killed, Clive awakened Ifrit, and the Phoenix, instead of fighting, gave his power to resurrection, which, to some extent, was able to stop the possible destruction and great damage to Joshua. It seemed an incredible story, but Joshua accepted it without problems. Because accepting further news turned out to be much more difficult.
They were attacked by the Empire of Sanbreque. And the conspiracy was prepared by Mother herself, Anabella Rosfield.
Although they never started a war between themselves, the relations between the countries were more than tense and, perhaps, only the current war with Waloed prevented the Empire from entering into an open struggle for the territories of Rosaria, avoiding a war on two fronts. Anabella fled to the Empire, because now she was a traitor, and there was no news from her. However, the Archduke did not provide any demands for the prosecution of his now ex-wife and calls for a fair trial for her.
"Your father has too soft a heart." Uncle Byron chuckled, to which Clive nodded in agreement, and Joshua thought that Father simply had too many problems to waste his own and the Duchy's resources on persecution. The boy did not think about whether he could forgive her: Anabella was a bad person, but she cared for him. Even if she did not love him, and he was simply a favorite because of the Blessing of the Phoenix, he could not find the strength to renounce her motherhood. Joshua simply accepted her betrayal as a fact. But Sanbreque's betrayal meant another thing, much more tormenting to his childish heart.
Now the Empire is the enemy.
"Now Dion is my enemy." he concluded gloomily. It seemed to Joshua that over these long nine months he had already cried all the tears he had, but they still rolled down his pale cheeks. Clive, seeing this, frowned in confusion, as if not understanding who was being talked about. A second later, understanding appeared on his face, but he remained silent, obviously not trying to hurt Joshua even more with words. After all, who could the Crown Prince of Sanbreque be now? Only an enemy. And no childish spontaneity could defeat the big politics in which their countries were now at odds.
A month later, a letter arrived. It was a letter from Dion. Joshua had not been told about it until Jill came to him.
“No one has noticed it yet.” she whispered, holding out the envelope. The girl’s face was whiter than snow, and her lips were trembling with fear. She was really taking a risk. “You are not allowed to receive letters from Prince Dion, but I thought you needed this. It would be unfair to hide it.”
Joshua hastily opened the envelope. There was indeed a letter in the handwriting that was familiar to him, but the letters were uneven, as if they had been written in a hurry, and there were stains on the parchment. The boy touched them, swallowing. They were stains from tears. Dion did not justify himself or his father, and wrote briefly, but despair was felt in every line.
"Dear Joshua.
The empire is unsettled, Your Mo Annabella Rosfield is now Lesage, the new Empress. This happened before the news that the Archduke survived. That you survived too.
All is unsettled. People are in turmoil."
At this point the letter seemed to break off. Joshua exhaled. He already knew about the new marriage of the Mother. But it was still hard to see it in the letter. The Dominant looked at the paper again and saw the text on the back, as if Dion did not want to write the next words after the dry phrases and news. Here the letters were even less even, blurred in places.
"I am guilty before you. I can swear a thousand times and say that I didn’t know, but I don’t believe that I can earn forgiveness in your eyes. Everyone calls your survival a rumor, but I want to believe.
Whoever reads this letter, please tell me the truth, no matter how bitter it may be. Joshua, if you are reading this, I beg you, hate me, despise me, but live.
I will always be your friend. Bahamut and I will always believe in you and the Phoenix.”
There was no signature.
“I want to write a reply.” Joshua squeezed out, looking up at Jill. “I want to… write to him further. Is there any way to arrange this?”
His Father and brother would certainly not allow him to, and the boy could not blame them. In a sense, maintaining a friendly correspondence with Dion could now be considered a state crime. But if Jill was the first to snatch the letter, did that mean she could secretly plant letters for Dion? But if you put it secretly, the letter will still be found, it will just take a long time to figure out who sent it.
Jill thought about it.
"I can ask to deliver the letter." she thought. "We can just bribe the messenger. After all, there is an exchange of letters between Rosaria and Sanbreque, it will not be surprising if the messenger ends up in the Empire."
"But getting close to the castle..." Joshua sighed, not finishing. This was a very risky undertaking, and the price of bribery was higher because of it.
"Or," the girl continued, "you can ask the Undying. Even if you are the Phoenix for them first and foremost, they are ready to do anything for you. Moreover, this way they will be able to collect useful rumors and news. They are a secret organization."
"Not so secret anymore." the boy could not help but laugh. His heart was beating wildly in anticipation. If this could really work, Joshua would be incredibly happy.
When one of the Undying came to him to report on the research regarding his recovery (this was reported both to the Archduke and to Joshua himself, since he now knew about the Undying, which they themselves were more than interested in), the Dominant asked to organize a secret correspondence with the Prince. It was impossible to see the face of the person who came under the hood, but the boy saw how, literally in a few seconds, he first turned pale, then blushed, and then finally turned gray and began babbling something about the need for the strictest secrecy. And then, for the first time in all this time, Joshua decided to press a little, saying that he really asked. The poor Undying servant almost darted about, and the boy tried to use the arguments invented by Jill about the ability of the Undying to learn news from the Empire. In the end, the man gave in, saying that he would talk to the leader.
"Dear Dion. I am alive. I do not blame you, and I also want to remain your friend. If you wish to reply, find out how and when from the person who brings you the letter."
This test letter was more like a note, because despite his recovery, Joshua still found it painful to write for long periods of time, but when he handed the message to the Undying, he felt as if he were revealing an incredible secret to someone, on which his very life depended.
A week later, he received another letter from Dion. It was also short, but his soul was incredibly warm from every word.
"Thank you," he said, almost crying, to Jill and the Undying, who together delivered the message to him. Jill smiled happily, and the servant bowed respectfully, muttering something like "since such is the will of the Phoenix," but the boy did not miss the faint smile on the face under the hood.
Thus began his secret correspondence with Dion. Joshua read and wrote the letters alone. The Undying thought him reasonable enough not to pry into the correspondence to find any taboo topics before sending, and Jill said that she was happy to help with the proposal, but everything that was coming now was too personal and belonged exclusively to Joshua, and she promised to keep the secret.
Writing letters was hard. Even though Joshua could now walk slowly, pick up things, and his consciousness had finally become clear, holding a squill in his hands for a long time, bending over the parchment, made his hands go numb, and then unbearably painful. Therefore, he sent letters less often than he wanted, but Dion assured him each time that everything was fine and that he was incredibly happy to receive each message.
And now Joshua was writing again, but he was hurrying even through the pain in his trembling hands. Looking at the result, he thought that he had only made it worse. Tears came to his eyes again. But Dion knew that Joshua was still recovering, right? The boy thought that perhaps he was worrying in vain. In each reply, Dion wrote a lot about how happy he was to read letters from a friend, and it seemed too sincere for simple politeness.
Dion wouldn't not be offended if the letter is sloppy, but it would contain everything that Joshua wanted to share.
Having handed the envelope to the waiting Undying, who immediately disappeared into the shadows of the corridors, the boy tiredly collapsed onto the bed. He needed some rest.
And Joshua dozed off, and instead of the nightmares that once haunted him, he was lulled by the quiet trill of the Phoenix.
***
Another two years passed, making three since the Night of Flames, when tensions flared up again.
Despite the tense political situation, Sanbreque decided to hold a ball, to which many guests were invited, including foreigners, and the Archduke was no exception.
Joshua thought that everyone would refuse, but Elwin, to his surprise, agreed. Such receptions, as he later explained, were needed to demonstrate strength and prosperity. If Rosaria refused, it would show weakness and disrespect for the rest of the crowd, because, as far as was known, all the other invitees agreed to attend the reception.
"Then I will go too." the boy immediately declared. Clive, hearing this statement, choked on air.
"No." he objected. "It's too dangerous. We are already taking a risk by going into this snake pit."
"I am the Dominant." Joshua reminded. "The fact that I'm alive, is it not proof that Rosaria can rise from any disaster?"
Alwin, in whose office they stood, nodded in agreement.
“I would like to avoid such a thing with all my might,” he inhaled, “but there is some truth in Joshua’s words.”
“But why are you going there?” Clive asked. Here his eyes widened in disbelief. “You want to see Mother?”
Joshua snorted. He really only wanted to go to meet one person, but it was not Anabella. But he could not tell the truth: he might be forgiven for exchanging letters with Dion, but this was not only his secret.
“In any case, even if she shows up, there is no point in talking to her.” Father said. “We do not have to talk to the Emperor’s family unless absolutely necessary. Even if they invite us, we can resolve issues with the other guests who will also be arriving. As I told you,” he smiled, “that’s the purpose of such parties.”
And so, to Joshua’s relief, it was decided without much difficulty that he would also go to the ball. He was tempted to write to Dion about it, but then decided that it would be better to keep it a surprise.
The preparations had not been particularly long. They had not planned to stay late, so they did not pack very many things, and the suits suitable for such celebrations had already begun to be sewn before the clear announcement of the acceptance of the invitation. When Joshua tried on his suit, he was surprised to find that it was a little small.
“That’s not so bad.” said Jill. “It means you’ve become healthier.”
“Or just bloated with joy at the fact that you’re going.” chuckled Clive, to which Joshua snorted good-naturedly before turning back to the mirror.
The outfit was a little reminiscent of the one he had worn at the Remembrance Ceremony, and Joshua himself had changed little. He was thirteen years old, but his face still retained the softness of a child, and only his face had become less rounded. He wondered if Dion had changed much?.He wrote that he had started dragoon training, so he was certainly much stronger than he had been as a child. And taller, probably taller.
The boy shuddered. He was afraid that they would not recognize each other when they met. Either they had changed too much, or, on the contrary, they had remained the same so much that they would take each other for mirages, because the very possibility of finally meeting, despite all the circumstances, seemed like a dream.
But there was no turning back.
Joshua barely remembered how they got to the border. He sat in the carriage, looking ahead and only occasionally answering questions. When they stopped, he ate without much appetite, and then slept without seeing dreams.
Halfway there, Clive offered him to return with a detachment of Shields, but the boy refused. He was just too nervous, that's all. The elder brother did not argue, but periodically cast wary glances in his direction. Fortunately, Jill was with them, for whom this was her first appearance in society, because Anabella, who saw her as nothing more than a northern savage, strictly ensured that the girl was not allowed to the court under any circumstances. Jill was also nervous, and therefore Clive's attention periodically switched to her. Joshua sometimes thought that she did this deliberately, so that the boy would not be disturbed, for which he was grateful to her.
Finally, they reached the capital. At the castle, people were bustling about, finishing their preparations, some servants were arguing, bumping into each other. When Elwin got out of the carriage, one of the servants jumped up to him. We are going to be taken to the guest rooms, Joshua realized. Elwin nodded to the Rosarian servants and Shields, giving a sign to follow, and they went to the rooms. Joshua walked in the middle of the procession, hidden from view to avoid questions before the formal ceremony. He felt both his arms being grabbed: Clive, smiling confidently, and Jill, whose grip was weaker, as if she wasn't quite sure if the gesture was appropriate with so many strangers around them. Joshua squeezed both their hands back and didn't let go until they finally reached the place.
As soon as the servant who had escorted them had brought them there and left, the boy leaned against the wall, almost sliding down.
There were only a few hours left.
***
The richly decorated ballroom of the White Wyrm Castle greeted each guest with enchanting music and bright lights reflecting off the endless golden ornaments and ice statues. Servants hurried here and there, offering guests treats and drinks.
As soon as Joshua entered the hall, he immediately began to look for Prince Dion with his eyes, glad that this was at least not a masquerade ball, but soon he came to his senses: Dion, as a representative of the imperial family, would have to come to the hall only at the grand opening. The boy looked around at the others, and noticed that perhaps no one except Elwin felt out of place. Elwin was immediately noticed by some acquaintances, who began to ask about his health and affairs, fortunately, they all avoided questions about the Night of Flames, so the conversations went quite smoothly. Greetings, introductions of Clive, Jill and Joshua, and then a few exchanges of pleasantries — nothing unusual for such receptions, and Joshua could bow in time, without really concentrating. The Dominant knew that it was impolite, but he was too worried. Elwin seemed to notice this, and then answered the others that the boy simply had not attended such events for a long time, thereby saving him from awkwardness, after which he would change the topic to, for example, the news of the upcoming fireworks that were promised to be arranged closer to the end of the evening.
With these conversations, the hour remaining until the official opening of the ball passed. Joshua almost shuddered when the solemn music began, and hurried to take his place.
The doors of the hall opened, and the Emperor entered. Beside him, proudly raised, walked Anabella, looking straight ahead. Joshua heard Clive, standing next to him, sniffled the air. The boy himself felt very uncomfortable. Mother seemed out of place here, alien, but what was most frightening was that now she seemed alien to Joshua himself. She was no longer a Rosarian, but he realized that she would never become the true Empress of Sanbreque, and all because her plan had failed and Elwin had survived. Otherwise, everything was completely different. When Sylvestre and Anabella reached their place and turned to face the guests, Mother was still looking only ahead, smiling vainly.
Only now did Joshua feel the horror and pain of her betrayal. In order to stand at the Emperor's side, Mother had given her family and country to death without hesitation.
Consumed by grief, the boy almost missed how the Emperor began his solemn speech. He shook the air with words that seemed meaningless and hypocritical to Joshua, and it was incredibly sickening to listen to them.
But then came the moment that Joshua both feared and longed for.
"Allow me to introduce you to my son, Dominant of Bahamut, Crown Prince of the Empire of Sanbreque, Dion Lesage."
"We greet the Keeper of Light!" exclaimed the Sanbrequois part of the guests. The rest silently but respectfully applauded, not excluding the guests from Rosaria.
Joshua caught his breath.
Dion also entered the hall, looking proudly ahead, but this pride had nothing in common with the cold detachment of the imperial couple. He seemed a deity woven from light, worthy of his Eikon, and, despite his young age, inspired respect. But most of all, Joshua was struck by the fact that Dion had not changed much: he had grown taller, his face had also lost its childish roundness, but his golden hair seemed just as soft, and the same incomprehensible melancholy splashed in his honey eyes. When the Prince approached the Emperor, he bowed to the Emperor and Empress, and then turned to the rest of the guests. His gaze wandered for a while over the faces of the assembled group, until they finally stopped. Dion's face went pale, his mouth slightly open in surprise, but he quickly caught himself and tried to look impartial, but Joshua noticed how he continued to glance in their direction.
Dion recognized him.
Joshua's heart ached with joy. He could not wait for the opportunity to talk.
Sylvestre struck his staff on the floor, signaling the start of the ball. The music began to play, and some people began to pair off.
Joshua and Dion stood and stared at each other. Several meters, dancing couples and an invisible chasm created by politics that they could not influence separated them.
Dion glanced back at the Emperor, who frowned and turned away to Anabella, who still hadn't looked at the guests from Rosaria. Joshua glanced back too: Elwin frowned, but nodded with a smile. Clive nodded more reluctantly, and Jill joyfully put her hands to her chest, encouraging him.
The two boys simultaneously took a step towards each other.
"I greet you, Phoenix." Dion croaked.
"And I am glad to see you, Bahamut." Joshua's voice trembled.
And without taking their eyes off each other, they bowed.
***
“I’m so glad to see you.” Dion nearly cried, hugging Joshua. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Now that their countries were almost enemies, they couldn’t run away together to the garden or other rooms. Instead, they went to the balcony, where they could not be heard and almost not seen. Joshua knew that Father and Clive would not approve, but Elwin, as befitted the Archduke, spent the evening talking with foreign guests, and Joshua's brother danced with Jill, who assured him that Dion could be trusted. Clive, of course, did not believe it, but as long as they were together, he was calm.
“I’m glad too.” Joshua whispered hotly. “I missed you very much.”
They barely tore themselves away from each other, tears rolling down their cheeks.
“Thank you for your letter.” Joshua sobbed. “Thank you for being my friend.”
“It is I who should thank you.” the prince answered softly. “In fact, until the very end I was afraid… that it was not you who was writing to me. That I only receive these letters in my dreams, or that someone was just joking with me. But it really is you!”
“But now we are absolutely sure.” Joshua smiled.
They talked a lot. Even though they exchanged letters, the children were happy to retell each other even what they had once written: with emotions, with moments that they had suddenly only just remembered. They laughed, quietly, so as not to disturb the guests, even though the music drowned out their conversations.
Joshua was sorry that he now had so many secrets from his friend. So much had happened, and now the day when they would meet not at a ball, but on the battlefield, was getting closer. The smartest thing was to break the connection right now, to tear this childish spontaneity from the heart by the roots, even if it meant leaving only bloody, pulsating fragments.
But they did not want to. He would not let them be separated. Not now.
They leaned on the railing, uncomfortably close to each other, but they didn't care. When Joshua laughed after a particularly funny story from Dion, he responded with another sunny smile and reached out to straighten the other boy's hair. Joshua felt as if he had been struck by lightning. Dion froze and immediately blushed, pulling his hand away and muttering an apology.
His fingers were thin and warm.
"I wish every ball was like this." Joshua said, trying to smooth over the awkwardness that had arisen.
"You think so? We can't go anywhere. Aren't you bored, Phoenix?" the prince chuckled.
"Not a bit." he said. "I'm with you."
It seemed incredible that Dion, embarrassed, could blush even more. He looked up at Joshua, and there was a warm light in his gaze. Through the blood pounding in his ears, Joshua heard whispers in the hall: it seemed the ball was drawing to an end. But he could only look at the prince.
"I will always believe in you." Dion whispered. "And I will always help you."
Joshua only managed to hold his breath when the prince touched his cheek with his lips. It was a fleeting touch, but it seemed to the boy as if a flame raged in his very being, enveloping him in warmth. It was as if an ether had been breathed into him, completely different, but so familiar.
It was as if he was no longer in as much pain as his exhausted body usually felt.
Dion pulled away almost immediately, slowly opening his eyes. But soon his face turned pale, and he pulled away.
"Oh, Greagor." he whispered, letting out an embarrassed groan. "Joshua, I'm so sorry, how dare I..."
But Joshua grabbed his hand before he could turn away. The boy's eyes were filled with determination.
As the first salvo of celebratory fireworks went off, Joshua gave Dion his first kiss.