1. Prologus A

Genre: Mystery/Drama

Summary: What if Zemus didn't exist? Would there be a chance to reunite two brothers separated by hatred? How would Golbez use his second chance? Would he be able to save Cecil this time or was he always destined to fall into the darkness? (The Rewrite Version) Incest, M/M, Angst, Yaoi.

Disclaimer: Dissidia, Final Fantasy IV, Final Fantasy I and its characters belong solely to Square Enix. They're not mine. I can only lay claim to some OC's and the plot. No profit has been made for the construction of this prose.

GENERAL A/N: This is a Dissidia-inspired Alternate Universe of FFIV. I would be using first person and third person views respectively depending on how I want the reader to perceive the events of the story. The timeline is not a consistent one-way train kind of thing. The _Italics_ will be used as a marker for events that happened in the _past_ and the normal font for the present. Lastly, one must have at least some knowledge of FFI, Dissidia, and FFIV to understand some of the technicalities and complications brought forth by the blending of all three Final Fantasy Worlds.

Rants: I should warn you though some of you might find Golbez OOC. He may have retained some of his cold aloofness in some moments but mostly you will find him altruistic (in some degree –One must think if he has switched heads with Cecil.) and feeling a variety of human emotions like the common person. He is after all human and not some rock like Zemus might have designed him to be. (Although he does throw rocks in Dissidia.) –And… enough with that.

**For many this could not be your cup of tea so if you don't appreciate the moral conflict themes present in this story please DON'T read. **

-Some names have been changed for the plot

-Some characters have been omitted.

-Their world's name is Cornelia the first kingdom in FFI instead of the Blue Planet.

PROLOGUS 

_Part One_

New Moon: Phantoms of Yesteryears

Golden light seeps through the thin dividing line at the center of the world where it slowly bleeds out hurrying towards the bowy of an unseen end.

Day after day, this unholy hour of after dawn, this unfamiliar horizon greets me with its limitless sky tinged in strange aquamarine.

In a series of moods, clouds appear a capricious white to a brooding black in the spring storms. Rainfall is fairly common as of late. Thus the greenery is abundant and flourishing. What world survives in the absence of rain?

Lush thick forests and woodland cover half the entire continent. Vast deep seas cloak and hide unraveled realms, dungeons and sunken treasures waiting to be explored. Wide plains, tame lakes, and spidery rivers crisscross down the high snow-covered mountains isolating their own mysteries; it truly is an untouched earth.

An uncorrupted world to be tempered anew or is it 'tampered' by someone such as I?

A fellow warrior once told me that selfish desires drive a person to do the unthinkable… or better yet to break the divine laws made by a supreme being such as God. I can almost imagine him standing next to me with the same stern expression as if it were yesterday—or am I even allowed to understate our 'past' and brief meetings?

He was impressive in size; tall in frame, and heavy in build, comparable to mine. It makes one wonder if we are kin beneath our armors since the thick metal conceals too much of our natural appearance. But he had something in his arsenal that I'll hesitate to wield or even consider arming myself with, provided that I'm a mage. (Yes, that's what folk in this world would probably call my trade, and they would label me an unorthodox black mage to be exact.) He carries a colossal flail sword with a treacherous curved edge at the end. No doubt, he was not one to mess with and if I didn't consider what he was truly offering me I would have fought him in battle than simply converse with him when he happened to offer me a convenient proposition.

_XxX _

_The rustling of grass under my midnight greaves kept my wandering thoughts preoccupied as I took one uncertain step after another on this strange landscape._

_A recent quake of massive force had raised a land bridge buried beneath the ocean floor for probably a thousand years or more. Having nothing better to do than to wallow in guilt and regret, I decided to explore the two long arms of steep trench southwest of Baron's shores._

_Maybe when I reach the end of the stretch I would probably jump down into the water and allow my heavy armor to sink myself to death, I laughed cynically at these suicidal thoughts. I was too cowardly to die by those means no matter how much I deserved it. _

_I fashioned a stop when I reached the clearing. The mangrove was getting a lot thicker in these areas but monster ambushes were not a problem. They were petty little weaklings that won't dare to even cross my path considering the chaotic state of my mind. I would cast spell after spell to anyone or anything that would invade my privacy, friend of his or not._

_Knowing them, they were probably wasted themselves to pose a threat to me even after the funeral… A funeral I wouldn't dare to grace with my presence. Don't get me wrong. I don't underestimate a person's rage or even their grief. It's only a matter of time before they hunt me down to the bowels of this earth and become Baron's—no, the Blue Planet's most wanted man._

_The sound of tranquil waves on the shore below somewhat calmed my tired and troubled mind. I sat at the edge of a small cliff sending loose rock to drop and took off my cumbersome golden-pronged helmet. _

_Make no mistake. I haven't let my guard down by doing this. I just want to free my tangled white hair that had grown so long down my shoulders. It was bothersome… And I want to see my reflection in the water below… I want to see my hair, my nose, my eyes, my… I couldn't see clearly. What on earth am I muttering about? Nonsense._

_There was no rain. The clear sky was a bright cobalt blue, the wind crisp, the leaves murmur soothingly as the breeze touched and shook the boughs of trees, gulls flew overhead, the sea breathtaking with its crystalline sapphire waters, the sand a toasted nut brown, the two arms of trenches stretched out leading to an unknown end, the horizon… forever far from my grasp just like you are now._

_Forever far from my grasp…_

_I shook my head. I ran a hand through the white mess that was my hair and gripped it in frustration. Salty water was dripping down my cheeks. A dry weak laugh escaped my lips. Since when did I become such a wretched old man?_

_Drowning in ones self-pity would get one nowhere and thus I shoved the steel confinement on top of my head, dusted my cape, summoned my life force to cast the spell, and shot up the cliff only to descend perilously in about the same rate as a cannon ball, leaving a spiral of dust trail behind. _

_I was scaling the land bridge with my arms crossed and as a rule I only floated above ground enough to dangle my booted feet a little without contact, of course. My cape fluttered madly behind me at the speed of my flight as I approached a piece of architecture that promptly stood out at the sunken point of the trenches. That mad physician, Lugae, might have done more than stop by in admiration, whereas I would've had more than just a broken neck by balking in aversion._

_It appears a ravine was unearthed by the quake like a mighty hand of god just parted the sea in its wake. At the end of it, sitting on top of a small mound oddly vegetated by green grass and partially drenched in water was white-stone remains of a shrine._

_It was a horror to behold ones dreams in your waking hours. It makes one think if one is in his/her rational state of mind._

_I was having nightmares these past few weeks. And none of them contained the person I untimely lost._

_This skeleton of a sacred place was all there is to it in my dreams. I always wake up in cold sweat and screaming one thing I couldn't remember when I'm awake._

_And now that the real thing is staring me in the eye… I loathe call myself a coward if I turn around and drop myself six feet under the seabed._

_With the confidence of a child learning his first steps I put my left foot forward and felt the blades of grass crunch under the weight of my heel. That was when I realized I was walking my way up the grassy mound. _

_It only took a few steps more, I barely began ascent when I quickly discovered I wasn't alone._

_I turned around (I'll do this once) to find a strange sight of shining metal behind me. _

"_Greetings, fellow harbinger of death. I am an emissary sent to gather a select few; consider yourself honored for you are chosen as one of God's champions. You are to fight a divine battle in His name and leave everything from this world behind."_

_I was barely recovering from my suppressed grief when this otherworldly warrior appears out of nowhere to state this nonsense in my presence!_

"_I am not interested. Leave me in solitude." I recall nearly spitting my hate on his face. Then I turned my back and started walking past the old stone markings of the ruined shrine._

_A bark of malevolent chilling laughter issued behind me. What mocking horrific laughter! The sound of it and its echoing quality made my steps falter and brought the beginnings of dread bloom in my chest amidst the overwhelming grief and the hatred for that nonexistent god he obnoxiously mentioned._

"_What you seek is not here, Sorcerer. It never was here in the first place." He said unmoving from where he stood and casually leaned on a humongous sword I have failed to notice at first glance._

_How easily could I have found murder in his hands the moment I turned my back in my careless arrogance? But he spared me, even letting my rudeness slip off so casually._

_I stopped my half-hearted stride to face him in full. "What do you know about this place?"_

"_This place? What do you have those eyes for? This is a ruins." He replied matter-of-factly, gesturing around the surrounding wild grassland littered in embedded broken stone with a sweep of his silver clawed gauntleted hand._

_I mimicked his lenience and let the snide comment slide. A fang for a claw, I suppose. "This ruins, as you blandly call it, was once a shrine." _

"_You don't look like much of a worshipper to me." It appears to me that the nameless warrior is intent on fanning the flames of my temper until I'm an incoherent homicidal inferno, which reminds me of a certain Archfiend…_

"_I didn't come to this place to worship." I told him as calmly as I could muster. My helm perfectly hid the already numerous death glares I'm throwing at him._

"_Of course you didn't. And if I know better you've come here to seek this." Finally getting to the point of pestering me, I blanched at his words and my booted feet were instantly rooted to the ground when he showed the obsidian-like round object the size of a cockatrice egg he concealed somewhere beneath his sapphire-blue cloak. "HE had already summoned you through your dreams and that's how you managed to procure knowledge of this."_

_A sudden wave of sickness assaulted me as I witnessed the black spherical luminous object rise from that clawed hand and high into the air like it had a mind on its own. _

_It rose higher and higher slowly drifting towards me! _

_And when it was nothing but a speck of black high above, it gave off shimmering rays of bright light in contrast to its color. I had to shield my stinging eyes. The helm's visor couldn't protect me from the searing brightness… I might as well go blind._

"_Embark on a journey with me, chosen champion. Let's merge our worlds into one so you may fulfill your selfish desires, defy your fate, bring discord into your world and mine so it may bring forth harmony, prove your worth and strength to HIM as His champion! _

_But as night gives in to day and as the sun sets to give in to the moon, your time in Cornelia is limited. Make use of it wisely. For no such thing as permanence exists in both realms until the harvest is complete. _

_I will see you again, Golbez." _

_His voice, dark, haunting, and hollow in its tone was at the back of my head when the image of a… black bird? Was burned into my mind's eye, literally._

_All of a sudden, searing pain threatened to gouge my eyes out. An invisible hand of fire was clawing its way through, tearing soft tissue from its socket. I reeled in pain and fear. I was about to go truly blind!_

_I cried out, my body broke into a series of prolonged and uncontrolled spasms. _

_But it didn't stop there. Just when the smartness was beginning to abate, that same invisible force with the intent to punish had joined the first. The hairs on the skin of my nape prickled up when I felt it wrap shapeless, around my ankles. _

_I released a shaky breath anticipating the worst when the cruel destructive pull began. It had both the ends of my body torturously twisted; I was brutally being severed apart!_

"_Amidst the precipice of our journey, set your mind to the place where it all began, the place of your birth… your homeland."_

_I screamed again._

_I screamed and screamed._

_Pain, unforgiving pain was my God._

_It engulfed any thought, any sensation, any trace of my awareness into oblivion. _

_XxX_

_I recall finding myself staring at Baron's fortified walls when I had come to._

_I had unwittingly entered into a contract I was remotely aware of until I saw a knight fully clad in the darkest tint of armor emerging from the nearby woods. _

_There were fierce scrapes on the metal of his chest plate and blood was already dribbling down from his wounds. In a weak fidgety attempt he was trying to remove the stifling helm he wore._

_Without thinking I immediately went for his aid. I helped him tug the clasps free where he couldn't pry with his weak shaking fingers and at last the obtrusive piece of a headgear came off. _

_Dark mauve long hair spilled all over his shoulders in silken strands except the ones clinging to his face matted with blood. That pale-skinned face partially covered with cuts and clotted blood nearly made my heart stop. The resemblance was uncanny. _

_He reminded me of Cecil so much that I flinched when he looked me in the eye, "Thank you." _

_This young man who had the pale skin like the moons', with the slight muscular build, and unmistakable ethereal features was clinging tightly on the flesh of my bare arm. I instinctively wanted to be rid of him when the second peering look he gave me made my knees weak._

_I realized I wasn't wearing any armor at all._

_My face was apparently exposed for him to see as well._

_That knowing gaze burned me and I barely realized what I was doing as I fumbled with the pouch (thank goodness it was still there) on my belt using my free hand. I dug for the potion I always knew would be stashed in its confines and carefully detached him from me. _

_I couldn't help but notice the similarity of our hands… mine was only larger than his— an unnecessary observation._

_I nearly shoved the flask of potion onto his trembling hands in my haste and I swiftly turned away from him before he can call for me… whatever he might call me._

_I watched him fleetingly as he stumbled backwards in surprise when I all but vanished before his eyes._

_The heavy gates opening accompanied by swift thuds of armored feet, and crunch of armor plates grinding against each other filled my ears. _

"_Our dark knight has returned!"_

"_Call forth Lord Odin!" _

_A loud gasp cleaved through the indistinguishable shouts of foot soldiers. _

"_Princess, wait!" _

"_Oh my goodness! Princess Nastasha!" _

"_Let go!" Sounds of a struggle and the undignified protests of a female minder came next before the light running footsteps of slipper-clad feet permeated my senses._

_While keeping myself perfectly hidden on my current perch at the treetops, I risked a glimpse of a young flaxen-haired maiden in royal garments embracing the wounded dark knight on the ground. I didn't see her face but the voice… her sweet whispering voice was enough._

_That same pure voice sang soft sighs of a lullaby in my childhood…_

_Oh (curse his name) god! I couldn't take this anymore! _

_I rest my head against the strong bark of the tree and uttered blasphemies (that bring the evildoer to shame) under my breath._

"_Such colorful words spouting from your unruly mouth." A wry deep voice that was familiar to me now commented right next to my ear and I quickly cast the Float Spell before I disgrace myself by falling down from a tree, no less!_

_I whirled around to face the otherworldly warrior standing weightlessly beside me. I wasn't even surprised to find that his booted feet weren't planted on solid ground. "You again." I snarled._

"_Tired of my presence already, Golbez?" He smirked allowing sharp fanged teeth to show beneath the faceplate of his helm._

"_How do you know my name? Who in the pits of hell are you?" I demanded, truly furious now. He was toying with me! How I hate to be played like this!_

"_Ah, I thought you'd never ask. But that is a secret I'm willing to impart with you when you finished your part of our contract." He said in the same teasing voice, I loathed so much._

"_Damn you, demon! I don't recall signing my blood on that wretched thing you call, a contract!" I all but thundered on his amused face._

_He raised his clawed hand demonstratively and in a gesture I know all to well just to spite me wiped the imaginary spittle from his helmed face. "Hitting two birds with one stone, I see. Well it doesn't really matter to you these trivial things such as my name or my role here. I know that there is only one thing that matters to you." _

_I took a deep breath. His knowledge of my thoughts, my plans and selfish desires was scaring the wits out of me. "And what… I pray tell do you know about that?" _

_Another harsh bark of laughter shook his armored frame. I was splitting hairs just to keep myself from strangling him._

"_The iron is in the furnace, start tempering it right now." He pulled me by the cloak and for a short moment he stared intently, amusedly at the fear creeping at the edges of my unprotected eyes. I realized he was fair larger than me without my armor. _

_I kept my face devoid of emotion when I felt his nimble fingers untangling the strap that held the pouch in my belt. _

_As quick as a flash, my pouch was back in place, tidied up like nothing happened but it felt much heavier now. _

_He patted my cloaked shoulder like we were old friends and turned his back on me. "Everything you would need to dispose of some lingering dirt is in there. Make use of what I've given you. We'll meet again in due time."_

"_Wait! Why are you helping me?" I called out for him by instinct. Something was still very wrong about this, my gut tells me. It was happening so fast and unclear intentions always bring my guard up._

_A faint mist of eerie red was starting to engulf his semi-tangible form by the time he answered me, "A claw for a fang, I shall say. Your permanence for my eternity and your blood kin for my blood king." His voice was already fading as he spoke the last two words. A shadow of the darkest black had consumed his form and he was once again, gone._

_When I was certain not a trace of his essence was palpable, the courage that had left me in his presence returned once again and I examined this 'token of our friendship'._

_It was what I feared… _

_It was a harmless egg thoughtfully padded for protection._

_(Line break)_

And thus I have come in such a turbulent time. Several kingdoms were at war with each other. There were other rulers and monarchs vying for supremacy all over the planet. Aaragorn, Verunia, and Morgatte were such unfamiliar and foreign names. Were these the anomalies I have yet to encounter soon?

Aaragorn: a kingdom primarily famous for its brilliant chemists and a fearsome land and naval army. They claim to be descendants of the Sky People.

The Sky People known only in this name were said to have moon-pale skin, silver-white to ash-blonde hair, soft angelic features, and tall frames, slender to muscular build, highly intelligent in speech and manner, strong sense of family ties, iridescent eyes the color of the blue to indigo spectrum, and most of all they have very long life-spans, outliving the rest of the human race.

According to popular legend they were inhabitants of a distant dying planet and was said to reach Cornelia through the use of a flying vessel known as an 'airship.'

An airship was able to travel in space, underwater, and other hostile environment just to reach its destination.

Long ago, the Sky People crash-landed on Cornelia destroying all of their airships in the process but brought them safely into a new habitable home.

Through intermingling with Cornelia's primary inhabitants, the human race, the kingdom of Aaragorn was said to have traced its origins from there.

Verunia was another kingdom in old alliance with Aaragorn. A long generation of matriarchs particularly powerful white mages were said to be behind the kingdom's patriarchal sovereignty. Intermarriage with Aaragorn was a long-standing tradition of the monarchy especially those among blood relatives to preserve the line of the Sky People.

And lastly, Morgatte that was surprisingly Baron for as long as I can remember had a weak and unstable form of governance: A legacy of the old monarchy. The House of Lords or the Noble Families generally possess power roughly divided amongst them and hence a puppet king or queen was common as scapegoat.

Cloaking myself in the shadows as the Ghost of Aaragorn, I have learned these much about Cornelia: my foster motherland.

And now several years have passed since that fateful meeting but I recall 'our contract' as if it were yesterday. I have tempered the hot clump of iron to perfection in the shape of my will. It was now a strong flexible blade lacking its lustrous shine.

The harvest was yet to begin.

(END OF PART ONE: PROLOGUS: Phantoms of Yesteryears)


	2. Prologus B

Disclaimer: Dissidia, Final Fantasy IV, Final Fantasy I and its characters belong solely to Square Enix. They're not mine. I can only lay claim to some OC's and the plot. No profit has been made for the construction of this prose.

PROLOGUS

Part Two:

Last Quarter: Lunar Beginnings

"By the order of His Majesty, Odin Baron, revered King of Morgatte, Lord Captain Cecil Austere has been ordered to secure the water crystal from Mysidia to form an Alliance with our kingdom."

A dark knight knelt down patiently as he received orders being read to him by the king's Captain of the Royal Guard. The shuffling of paper was the only crisp sound amidst hushed whispers, stifled coughs and the general noise of a fearsome army attending an assembly.

Cecil stood with alert knightly grace as the king gestured for him to rise to accept the scroll.

"Lord Captain, you carry the honor and military pride of Morgatte as you resign yourself for this venture. Keep that in mind and may the moon gods wish you luck." Zander Baigan, his military superior clapped him on the shoulder in an almost brotherly gesture before the dark knight slipped the scroll to its casing attached to his belt strap.

"Bring Morgatte the honor it deserves, Cecil." King Odin spoke last before the lord captain respectfully answered, "Yes; your majesty."

The highest ranked dark knight bowed once more and exited the doors of the royal chambers closely followed by his subordinates with head held high, confident stride, and with an aura brimming with so much pride and honor dedicated to Morgatte.

They were the kingdom's finest aerial fighting force, the Red Wings.

And they were headed towards the aerodrome in the middle of flanking towers and pinnacle of the Castle Keep where Engineer Highwind's airships await their conquest for the skies.

Cecil met Cid halfway on the spiral steps of the keep where the pinnacle's aerodrome carries the 'Enterprise', Engineer Highwind's main airship on its shoulders. The burly man with dark curly hair, middling in height, with a thick nose, square chin, bright blue eyes perpetually overshadowed by those ridiculous goggles was giving him a lopsided grin. "And yet another commission from the king, eh Cecil my boy?"

The dark knight removed his helm as a sign of respect and gave the older man a shy smile for his words. "I apologize in advance for any future dents on your 'lady'."

Cid laughed heartily, which didn't quite reach his eyes. "I don't care to 'em dents just bring'er in one piece. Anyhow may Lady Luck be at your side." He said almost dismissively before giving him a somewhat fleetingly odd look that said, _be careful you need it more than the airship._

A feeling of foreboding crept into his already jittery state of mind. The ominous telltale signs of something unfortunate to come were high and getting restlessly higher in the air… or was it just the moist, humid wind turbulence of an incoming storm? The engineer became uncharacteristically silent as he came back from the storage room to give the final tweaks and tune-ups the Enterprise needed as if a hostile confrontation was inevitable. Cid made particular attention on the airship's defense and offensive machineries. 

Cannons and heavy artillery shined almost like the object in conquest. Cecil wasn't blind by the fact that His Majesty and his most trusted captain's _Alliance _was nothing more but a euphemistic version of a siege. It seems old man Cid wasn't fooled either.

Odin and he had a long way back. Being in the same age group was more of what they had in common. In a hierarchical society, they were monarch and Court Engineer. But behind snotty and prudish nobles they were the best of friends. "Aye, she's ready for the ball. Make sure you are intact as she is when you return, dear lad." Cid said affectionately before disappearing below the stone steps for the second and last time.

A slight crease of worry was now present on the ephemerally calm dark knight's face.

Kain wasn't even here to see him off. An imaginary dragoon had his arms crossed and leaned heavily against a corner pillar. Usually when Cecil was assigned on dangerous campaigns, his childhood friend would already be up here before anyone else.

Kain would even idle in an eerie almost nearly undetectable manner on that spot. He would always stand arms crossed and half-leaning on cold stone. And no one but Cecil would notice his presence.

Imaginary Kain just made a reassuring thump on his weakly aketon-lined shoulder. _"Don't die."_

He would step away and without a backward glance jump out of sight the same probable way he had come.

_Yes, you too wherever you might be, Kain. _He said in his thoughts as the sounds of approaching armored footsteps drew nearer.

XxX

"We would never surrender the crystal!"

He tried.

He really did.

He pushed himself even.

But negotiations were futile.

The Mysidians were not and were never fools to begin with.

"They refuse to surrender the crystal, what now Captain?" His second-in command asked.

As much as he'd loathed it…

_You have ingrained my loyalty to Morgatte too much… Brother._

His expression of uncertainty and unwillingness to murder innocents were fortunately hidden within his helm. But that was what he really came for, right?

If they refused to surrender the objective of this mission…

Without the visible strain in his features he coolly stepped forward. "It is unfortunate to have come to this. Won't you please reconsider, Magi Elder?"

The scroll, the official mandate of his king lay on a rumpled heap below the feet of the Elder. Focusing on that sight instead kindled the dark ruthlessness drilled on a full-fledged knight of his stature. They dared figuratively spitting on the will of his liege. That was unforgivable.

"We refuse to yield on such vile terms only fiends could even contemplate on committing!" The Mysidian Elder spat as if accidentally ingesting poison.

"I apologize, but you have just insulted His Majesty in the most outrageous manner. As a knight defending his honor I would have to force your surrender." The Lord Captain of the Dark Knights didn't feel the perfect fit of his weapon of choice on his gauntleted hand, before he was already charging forward with it, full plated greaves crunching reflexively, harmoniously with the chain mail, scraping on enchanted stone flooring.

The dark infused spear pierced through air, clothing, and cutting through flesh, blood, and bones.

He gasped.

He realized it was he who gave the sound of the injured, ironically.

The Mysidian Elder didn't even flinch, took a step back, raised his arms in defense or even conjured a simple spell. He just stood there, passively fixing him a frighteningly calm and forgiving stare.

"Elder!" The Mysidian mages have arrived too late. They were but witnesses to a dark knight impaling their beloved leader and benevolent teacher who was rapidly bleeding to death.

The buzz of foreign machines disturbing natural peace, the unexpected aerial smoke bomb attacks had all but disoriented and disturbed them of their ability to counteract more modern warfare. The faux blitzkrieg was short of nothing but distraction.

The Red Wings had come not to barter or form an alliance… at least not formally to the Mysidian population. They were to be done secretly among leaders like the true nature and strategy of this campaign.

King Odin was already aware that no amount of peace talks, bribery or even black mail could sway the Mysidian Elder to surrender their crystal. He along with Cecil and just a handful of trusted Dark Knights and the Royal Adviser planned this fool-proof scheme behind closed doors. It didn't mean that everyone present in the strategy meeting was in favor of it, however.

The Mysidian Elder was still strong enough not to crumble on his knees despite the shock of blood loss. He didn't even look on his people or plea that they avenge him for this treachery. His surprisingly unwavering gaze continued to be locked with Cecil's.

Blood-streaked lips moved. "Purge the darkness in your soul, dear lad. You are not destined for such a thing that taints you."

They were his last words.

Cecil withdrew the spear and the dead body was asleep on its feet as it jolted a little when the retreating sharp weapon spilled more trapped blood. He gritted his teeth and forced the sudden sickness in his gut to abate. He could not afford to show emotion.

What was done was done.

He just hoped as he safely gathered the crystal and quickly slipped through the grasp of the devastated Mysidians into the hovering airship that this was the last crime he would commit in the name of his king for a very long time.

He had no idea that the nightmare has barely just begun.

(END OF PART TWO: PROLOGUS: Lunar Beginnings)


	3. Departure from Eden

Disclaimer: Dissidia, Final Fantasy IV, Final Fantasy I and its characters belong solely to Square Enix. They're not mine. I can only lay claim to some OC's and the plot. No profit has been made for the construction of this prose.

CHAPTER 1.2

The Beginning of the End:

Departure from Eden

A/N: Chocobos are not used for war so you won't see Cecil riding one to escape from the castle.

"Cecil Austere, as of this moment you are dismissed from military service. The Kingdom and its citizens look upon you as a traitor for failing to eradicate the last survivor of the summoners, hence killing innocent Morgattian soldiers at the brink of her wrath! Such impudence is unforgivable! If you do not leave Morgatte this instant, you are to be executed." The Court Adviser and Captain of the Royal Guard, Zander Baigan declared as knights including the Ash blond's unit surrounded him.

"Former Lord Captain of Morgatte; make no move that shall aggravate your penalty." They all have their eyes cast down as they pointed their spears and swords at Cecil.

"Wait, I wish to speak with the king. I can explain my actions." Cecil refused to be dissuaded. His verbose adoptive father would never pass judgment through the lips of others. King Odin would rather strike some sense into his unruly son himself.

He longed for his father to speak with him but one glance at the closed doors of the Royal Chambers brought an unsettling eerie cold that crept around his spine. Some instinct told him to storm through those doors before everything was too late.

"The King doesn't wish to speak with you. He orders you to leave the castle premises immediately otherwise you will be put to death." As if reading his exact train of thought, Zander deftly countered.

"If you could just allow me to speak with His Majesty—" The Dark Knight insisted, fists trembling at his sides. His anxiety bordered on desperation and unhealthy fear at being swiftly cut off like this.

"Treason rids you even of your status as adopted royal son. His Majesty raised you and Kain tenderly as if you were his own and this is how you repay him!" The adviser yelled accusingly, switching tactics and lashing at where it hurts the most.

Cecil didn't even know how everything had plunged into this… utter chaos.

He already carried too much emotional and mental anguish from his bloody Mysidian campaign. It seems that matters had gone quickly from bad to worse.

Upon his shaky arrival, another decree lay in wait to test the mettle against his battered conscience and ever weakening resolve.

He was ordered by His Majesty to slay a beast that threatened the safety of a nearby village. Said village was part of Morgatte's domain and it had become impassable; trade and economy suffered recent damage due to a _hostile force_ jealously guarding the path. The only way to reach the village was through a cave that the beast had comfortably laid claim as its haven. Contact had been cut off from both the village and the kingdom since.

Therefore His Majesty, King Odin decreed that the beast be slain to bring peace and prosperity back to both affected parties and once successful, The Lord Captain Cecil Austere was to present a token of friendship for surety of ties with the village in the form of an ancient ring: a relic from the kingdom's main treasury itself.

Another decree filled with honorable intent had unexpectedly turned into another disaster… another massacre committed by his hands. Up to now he was still at a loss if the tragedy was merely an accident or a certain treachery had been conspired behind his back. Thus he could only defend himself through words… like he was a common criminal pleading his innocence to a jury who thought him guilty before he can even open his mouth. It was both insulting and degrading to a knight.

"The summoner was a mere lass! She was never a threat to begin with! Members of the Royal Guard had clear malevolent intent to harm her when the accident happened. A summoned spirit appeared to defend her. It was the spirit's decisiveness to destroy human lives not the will of a defenseless girl." His words barely warmed the hardened hearts of the battle-scarred men. Unfortunately, Kain was not here to support him. The Dragoon Master was sent to a different mission that would take him days or even weeks to return. If Cecil knew better this was arranged pretty well.

"Mercy from a Dark Knight? Such poor excuse for explicit disloyalty! His Majesty's order should come first! King Odin's word is absolute law!" Zander's eyes equally seethed in murderous rage. "Drive this traitor away from Morgatte! See to it that he is ostracized and exiled!" The Adviser's orders were the king's orders. It was the most recent rule established since King Odin locked himself in his chambers.

Cecil struggled and argued but faced with complete opposition he had no choice but to flee. He gingerly backed away from the approaching soldiers and swiftly broke into a run as much as his armor would allow, aiming decisively for the closest means of escape.

A pair of armed guards automatically barred the double doors to his exit. Without hesitation he raised his sword and almost came into blows with them. The sharp-witted ex-captain feinted; parrying their thrusting spears easily then quickly darted out to where they least expect. The machicolation on the left was very much left unguarded.

With back and hands against the brick wall, he carefully but hastily scaled the parapet before jumping down on the closest flying buttress while the gaping guards and stunned knights gave him a precious moment to gain a foothold.

The landing wasn't exactly glorious but Cecil's sparring sessions with Kain taught him the right way to do a lesser suicidal-like jump. He managed to do it with more finesse this time, tumbling into the air, using his spear to take half the brunt of the impact and ended up rolling sideways like a tipped egg.

As he hurriedly descended the west bastion, he caught the glimpse of archers taking position at the battlements. That was not good.

Reaching the Knight's stables thankfully without incident he decided that fleeing was priority over fighting. Chargers would have to do over destriers and he whistled for the lone white mare available.

And as if Divine Providence had intervened, Rosa's horse and Morgatte's fastest charger, Lanette bolted towards his direction. He petted her as if asking for permission and when she gave a soft snort, he quickly mounted; pulling the reins and the charger satiated his need for a speedy flight.

As soon as they approached the exposed bailey, the Dark Knight urged Lanette into full gallop and prayed to any listening god that they not be pierced by a single one.

Cecil braced himself as he glanced up the pale grey sky to spot even darker specks and a curious buzzing filled his head as the arrows rapidly descended. Only the lightning speed of the charger enabled them to dodge the death rain above leaving a trail of embedded splinters behind.

The peril from archers was now an afterthought for the Barbican loomed just beyond. There were a couple or more of nasty murder holes in that narrow passage and even another obstacle lay ahead.

His hesitation must have affected the beast's self-preserving instincts and Cecil quickly held the reins to keep his mount from faltering. Quickly rounding the last corner towards the open path leading to the heavy gates, dust, stone, and rubble were trampled and scattered beneath the charger's hooved feet.

Even being embroiled within 3 days-worth of military campaign, Cecil's combat instincts were still sharp and heightened with adrenaline rush after brusquely being thrown in the middle of a welcoming party akin to a boiling cauldron.

He was ill-prepared for the consequences he would face after… turning against his comrades in favor of a stranger. But the damage had already been done and he was past the point of regret. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he always knew he would leave this place.

_Now is not the time to doubt! _He chastised himself as obvious danger took into the physical form of a long, enclosed space filled with traps. 

His lips already moved in practiced ease with the soundless words. He was already miming the spell to cast Blue Fang when the shadowed pathway entered his periphery. At the exact moment they entered the Barbican, bright blue magic erupted on the constricting space, stunting the latches a fraction of a second in time to deactivate the traps. Some nasty ones could have scalded him through the steel of his armor.

But he wasn't allowed to linger about that now for the light ahead was closing in. Cecil's heart leapt on his throat at the sight of the Portcullis already in half-mast and the drawbridge disengaging to prevent him from going any further.

A fierce determination seized him, overriding his fear at this crucial point. There was no turning back now. He was a seasoned war commander and not some inexperienced squire! He had escaped the jaws of many more lethal defensive devices on enemy castle grounds before. This was nothing up to par.

His brother had calmly walked out of this treacherous castle faced with the same opposition. He could not afford to be any less.

Cecil whipped the charger faster, armored boots digging on the stirrups of the saddled mare. He was about to do the most bizarre riding stunt of his life and a part of him even smirked excitedly at that.

As he balanced himself he held unto the reins and leaned forward almost hugging the mare's neck. He carefully but quickly detached his lesser foot from one of the stirrups and now bent sideways. The portcullis was a yard away when he clung and hung completely on his dominant foot on the better side of the charger and placed most of his weight on the furious beast's powerful broad torso unfailing to urge his ride faster.

Cutting the height in half as he rode sideways earned his left pauldron and back armor plate deep scrapes that otherwise kept him from being skewered on the spot.

The dark knight quickly resumed proper riding balance after passing the canines of death.

He made it!

He had pulled it off and his pride soared high like the final burst of speed needed to dash through the wooden bridge. The charger's hooves thudded in sharp staccato very much like the dark knight's heartbeat as they neared the end.

King Odin didn't secretly covet this mare for nothing because not even the monarch's own destrier could have survived this death jump across the moat.

For which Cecil did and he was grateful to no one but her.

Quickly behind them, the hinges whined in protest as the bridge's half-tilted closing was arrested in favor of a mobilized cavalry in pursuit of a fleeing fugitive.

Cecil quickly spotted knights on mounts hot on his heels. Damn, they wouldn't even let him catch his breath. What were Zander's real orders? He soon found out as he barely evaded a few well-aimed javelins on his open rear. They were going to follow him to his death.

Yet somehow there was something missing to the entire ordeal he had experienced thus far. It was strangely too quiet and he surreptitiously glanced above to find the absence of buzzing airships over his head. An aerial assault should have efficiently pulverized him in an instant. Somehow Cid's ominous warning came into mind. He was thus thankful for this discrete interference.

Suddenly, Lanette let out a pained high pitched sound alerting him that she might have been struck. He had to widen the gap between him and his pursuers more than ever. "Easy girl, we can do this." He soothed her.

After a while she calmed enough to pick up speed. Unfortunately, the delay caused the cavalry to catch up with him. They had to hurry.

Cecil hardly outmaneuvered the approaching knights. Some of them who managed to get a good proximity tried to stab him with a spear or slash him with a sword. Majority of them were from the regular army but he couldn't be sure.

Their weapons clashed, the sharp blade of his scimitar creating sparks as it reached the enemy's hilt before a flick of the wrist with the right precision and he struck back mostly to disarm effectively. His expertise in close combat and more experience in the battle field gave him leverage in the fight.

"Keep attacking and eventually he'll tire out." An unfamiliar general, probably his quick replacement, barked orders. The strategy was simple but logically effective as Cecil soon felt signs of fatigue wearing him down as he directed his mount and fought soldiers on his rear and sides all at the same time. Even a knight of his stature could only last this much, outnumbered and battle-worn.

A thick line of trees soon came into view. They were now approaching the forests of Morgatte. The lush foliage might offer him protection. He momentarily played with the idea of losing his pursuers in the unfamiliar, monster-infested wood trails.

XxX

"My Liege," Zander curtsied before King Odin Baron.

"Have you succeeded in driving him out the castle? Did he voluntarily leave and stayed out of harm's way?" Contrary to Zander's reference, the king was concerned about Cecil's well-being.

"He is well my king, do not worry." Zander Baigan, royal adviser replied with fake concern.

"That's good." Odin closed his eyes.

"We only have two crystals left to seize. Cecil brought us the first and days later Kain will give us the other one. If we managed to get all four, think about the possibilities of Morgatte's role in the future." The King's Adviser whispered hypnotically.

"Yes." The King whispered and fell asleep.

When he was out of earshot the Adviser released his disgust on a well-trained Zuu. This humongous bird would deliver the message to its master.

XxX

True to his expectations, soldiers got lost in their formation as he lead them to narrow, winding trails quite impassable with overgrown tree roots and came across with plant-camouflaged monsters. However, as Cecil reached the clearing, his more adept pursuers gradually found their way to catch up. It was no surprise that they turned out to be his comrades. Brothers in arms, whom he fought with in several campaigns now ironically held the most threat to his survival. He had no more options left but to fight back. He dodged with slight difficulty as blasts of dark energy from the knights of his own unit whizzed in his direction. With his mastery of the dark arts, the elite Dark Knight retaliated in kind: bigger and concentrated proportions not to kill but to disable them. Jolted screams and surprised yells reverberated in the woods as soldiers of the frontlines were forcefully dismounted.

However to procure dark arts of such level, it requires sacrifice of one's life force. Cecil saw dark grey spots flickering in his eyes and he blinked rapidly to clear his clouding vision. His grip on the reins faltered as his extremities momentarily felt weak and numb. He knew without a doubt that he was more vulnerable than ever.

As they neared the ravine of Gorgona: Aaragorn Kingdom's border, south west of Morgatte, the dark knight's drained and exhausted state was more than palpable. His body burned as if with a fever and yet his paler skin was clammy and wet with perspiration increasing his discomfort to near-suffocation and nauseating levels.

In contrast to what he was feeling at the moment, the remaining cavalry unit had recovered formation and swiftly gathered momentum. They nearly succeeded in striking or dismounting the Dark Knight more than once. The brawny man leading most of the assaults was Gigas-incarnate and urged his equally monstrous destrier onwards.

Cecil was rigidly upright on his mount. The fatigue, the strange throb of mind-numbing pain, and the negative energy clinging to him after extensive use of the dark arts had become a double-edged sword. His only way of defending himself had burned his resilience into incapacitation. Any head-start he had gained against his pursuers was nonexistent at this point and they were close enough, almost three hand spans behind him. He realized belatedly that they were not attacking and abruptly broke formation.

A reverse arrowhead or a Y-formation, the weakened dark knight horribly deduced and knew he was as good as finished when the replacement general's destrier zipped through the wide opening made for him and thrust his spear against the ambling mare's side. The charger didn't have a chance. Its flesh was pierced easily.

With one last dying whinny, the mare stumbled into a halt and pitched Cecil to the rocky ground. The Dark Knight struggled to get back on his feet as the arriving soldiers, in overwhelming numbers surrounded him. "What are your true orders? Surely His Highness knows: One cannot strike a dismounted knight even if he is a fugitive." Cecil spoke calmly betraying the dread threatening to engulf him and narrowed his eyes at the cause of the mare's demise.

The brawny poor-excuse-of-a-knight appeared not to hear. "It seems you didn't cross the border. You failed to ostracize yourself from Morgatte. Now you're a threat, execute him!" He declared instead raising his bloody spear. The battle-hungry soldiers roared in approval and without qualms proceeded to assault their former Lord Captain.

_It seems this where I shall pay for my sins. Kain, I leave Rosa in your care now_. A defeated resignation to his fate crept in Cecil's thoughts. Still he hopes a miracle can save him.

"Die, traitor!" The soldiers took their chances of killing him. Cecil fought back fiercely, no longer holding back for his survival. He wanted to avoid this as much as possible however it cannot be helped at this point. He held out as much as he could and stood his ground against the combined forces of foot and mounted soldiers but he sustained many wounds in his body. Blood dripped on the side of his face. His left leg was badly slashed and his sides had gashes each. God help him, he couldn't keep this up for much longer! Hell, he could barely stand! "Be gone with you, bastard son of the queen!" The general raised his spear and was about to impale the helpless, bleeding knight when the ground shook. The brawny man lost his balance and his eyes widened in surprise. Large boulders floated in the air gravitating on an invisible circle when one gigantic rock detached and darted forward with such blurring speed before he realized he had been crushed.

His dying, agony-filled screams were dampened then swiftly silenced when the other levitating boulders zeroed in on the first mercilessly extinguishing the life out of his gruesome remains.

The remaining soldiers were paralyzed in terror as they saw a towering figure clad in impenetrable armor emerging from the rubble. They hastily retreated in panic. Cecil was now left alone with this stranger. He couldn't quite make out if the new arrival was a friend or a foe due to the armor. His vision had started to dim and his legs gave out as he attempted to make a slow backward retreat. Before he collapsed, the stranger caught him, carried the unconscious young knight and disappeared in an instant.

A/N: Reviews, constructive criticisms would be nice. But I don't mind ogling… (From the top: Yeah, weird title, I know. It just popped on my head so…)


	4. Chapter One: Blood Ties

Disclaimer: Dissidia, Final Fantasy IV, Final Fantasy I, and its characters belong solely to Square Enix. They're not mine. I can only lay claim to some OC's and the plot. No profit has been made for the construction of this prose.

CHAPTER ONE: Blood Ties

"…" _A garbled sound as if a voice speaking underwater steadily and slowly drummed on his ears. He struggled to open his eyes but cold rough skin… someone's palms pressed them shut. _

_A feeling of near-fear crept into his spine and his breathing started to become irregular, deep, and shallow in different intervals. _

"…"

_There it was again, the voice speaking something warped and incomprehensible, this time almost whispering on his ear. _

_He couldn't catch a hint of it and troubled him deeply. His attempts to open his eyes were becoming more and more futile. _

_He instinctively moved his arms and tried to grasp, to reach whatever or whoever it was before him that covered his eyes. _

_The fingertips of his left hand grazed cold, pointed, and smooth metal. Tracing it feebly in the darkness gave him a mental outline of a crown?_

_His fingers dipped on a smooth forehead adorned by silky locks of hair…_

_Abruptly before he could go any further, the same cold rough skin crawled down the expanse of his exposed neck and started to strangle him._

_He couldn't breathe! He gasped practically clawing for air but the pressure at the base of his throat only increased threatening to snap his delicate, youthful neck at any moment. _

_Muffled screams were arrested from spilling out of his parted lips when a gauntleted hand clamped on it shut as well._

_Blinded, throttled, and helpless he started thrashing on his bed… _

_A soft tapping on his cheek seemed to disentangle him from the gripping horror. "Cecil!"_

"_Cecil, wake up." This voice was clear, familiar, and filled with affection. There was no mistaking it and soon enough the phantom that brought him irrational fear dissolved._

_The vision of gleaming white faded along with his clouded sight. His once glassy, unfocused eyes cleared and the image of a middle-aged man appeared on his field of vision._

"_My son," King Odin called affectionately and the boy all but leapt on his open arms, whimpering in mixed relief and residual panic._

_For a moment, a trick of the eye, his liege and adoptive father was someone he feared… all clad in blinding white—_

_The boy, Cecil buried his face on the king's shoulder exhaling troubled breaths._

"_There, dear child. T'was nothing but a dream." Odin soothed, patting the flaxen-haired head._

_When he calmed enough, his indigo-blue eyes impossibly widened remembering the significance of this day. He raised his head and collided with the monarch currently holding him securely in his arms. _

_They both recoiled at the pain of impact but the young one was obviously more hurt. A thin trickle of blood marred the skin on the boy's head where a sharp thin tier of the king's crown nicked it. Odin immediately scrambled around for anything, a piece of cloth to wipe and nurse the wound. _

_A tall, male figure inconspicuously within the room until now wordlessly passed him a kerchief. _

_The ever-clueless and flustered mess of a father gave his captain of the royal guard a grateful stare and patched Cecil's wound with the soft cloth._

"_I'm fine, your majesty. Thank you." Cecil clutched at his padded wound and half-heartedly moved out of the king's reach. It was a small cut, nothing to be fussed about. _

_Odin masked the feelings of inadequacy gnawing at him on his adopted son's impersonal reaction. A logical part of his mind scolded him and deemed his son's actions reasonable. Cecil was a promising child, training to be a squire. At his tender age of ten he was a very excellent page and denying him the next passage to knighthood due to traditional prudish constraints was a waste of his talents and potential. To coddle him like a spoiled whelp would stunt the noble knight's spirit steadily taking root on a boy's frail heart. _

_This was what signified the event of today and was the reason for him, as ruler to be attired in accord in the first place._

"_The tourney and joust competition!" As if reading the monarch's thoughts, the young squire in training scrambled quickly out of his loose embrace and was all over the expansive room in search of grooming essentials and his official livery for the upcoming events. The vestiges of the nightmare simply were nonexistent. _

_The king couldn't help but heave an indulgent sigh. Unbeknownst to everyone, he was the least person who looked forward to what was about to come. The tourney and the joust… were nothing but a big farce._

_What lay beneath might just steal Cecil's sole affections for him and that made him more than afraid. _

_XxX _

_Morgatte's grand stadium was packed with spectators: peasants and nobles, foreigners and citizens alike. Their shouts, cheers, claps, and the general uproar of an excited audience watching the annual match could be heard from as far as the behourd._

_So the tourneys had already started._

_Cecil paused from the task at hand and looked up at the clear cobalt-blue sky. Unlike the design of old, the behourd, where young squires and knights pursue their training was separated from the rhombus-shaped arena located midway from the city square before reaching the first gatehouse of Castle Morgatte. _

_The behourd was a part of the outer bailey constructed for those who aspire to be knights. _

_It was the open field within the kingdom's outer walls where the military might of Morgatte first held batons and rebated blades over swords, lances and spears. It was where distinguished knights, captains, and generals spent most of their late boyhood and early adolescence. It was where Cecil and Kain would nurture both their friendship and combat skills._

"_Spacing out again, I see." A snort coming from someone beside him made him snap from his reverie. He almost dropped the broad sword he was polishing before he righted himself, resuming his task of sharpening it flawless. _

"_I was just thinking about the tourneys and how our knights are doing against the foreigners." Cecil explained to the blond boy wearing the same livery whose stern features seemed to take an air of maturity over his youth. He need not look over his shoulder to know that it was Kain._

"_His Majesty promised that we could watch the main tourney and the joust as long as we don't inconvenience our knights. Lucky for you, the owner of that sword would not even miss his weapon if it were gone." True enough, the blade was a ceremonial sword that hasn't seen a single battle but nonetheless dubbed aspirant men to go into such._

_Cecil wasn't ignorant of the fact that many pages and squires envied him to be directly of service to the king. The Captain of his Royal Guard might shadow him for protection but when it comes to other matters, Cecil's duty was the coveted position of every soul in the castle. Aside from a little formality the boy only needed to act like himself, to be the devoted son every doting father wished for. _

"_Don't say that." Cecil frowned at his friend's crass tone. Odin still needed this sword and it was his duty to polish it sharp until it gleamed like a mirror._

_Without a retort, Kain snatched the sword and the whetstone from his friend's frail-looking hands. "I'll fill in for you. Go train a while." The dragoon squire-in-training said as flippantly as ever. _

_The king's squire-in-training was at a loss. "What for?"_

_Kain heaved an exasperated sigh. "Have you gone deaf as well? I said practice with the pell. Give it all you have." This uncharacteristic coldness and the way Kain addressed him was the exact opposite of the warm, caring nature he was used to. It's as if Kain treated him like a rival, a foe, or a subordinate he didn't know what. But it did nothing to quell his confusion._

_Sighing and choosing to understand the oddness in his friend's behavior, he took the baton but Kain yet again interrupted him with a huff and pointed at the newly sharpened blade directly across from it. _

_Cecil's face was now a big question mark but his childhood friend completely ignored him._

_Choosing to vent his confusion, anger, and frustration at the training dummy he took his best stance and confronted the pell like a live opponent. He had joined Kain in basic sword and spear training a year ago and was on the process of developing their own techniques and styles in handling both weapons. _

_At this stage he still lacked both the finesse, strength, and focus a veteran swordsman and an experienced knight possessed. But that didn't deter his instincts in battle. When it comes down to it the main goal was to avoid injury and strike the enemy faster before they can land a hit. In every sparring match and stray encounters with monsters outside he made that simple principle the key to his victory and success._

_Kain watched his friend have a go at the pell from the corner of his eyes with a hint of smile on his lips. He was older and his sword training was more advanced than Cecil's but seeing how his friend slash, thrust, and swing mostly in the right angles and avoid being hit by the rotating pell's arms rather than batter it like a nonsensical brute and get rebound damage for trying was indeed promising. With each passing moment, his anxiety and worry was slowly ebbing away._

_He might have fretted over for nothing. _

_Still he was against what was about to come and keeping secrets from his dearest childhood friend wasn't doing wonders to improve his sullen mood. _

"_Cecil Austere," At the mention of one name, everyone in the courtyard stopped in their tracks. _

_Captain Zander Baigan was at the entranceway accompanied by two other members of the royal guard. They wore full ceremonial regalia for knights participating in the joust._

"_You called my name, Sir?" A boyish but pleasant voice of the king's adopted son answered their call courteously. _

_Kain's hands curled secretly into fists as he too paused in his task, distracted. It was too soon! Can't they give him more time? Unsupervised training on the pell wasn't even enough warm up._

_But Cecil couldn't know, could he?_

_The blond fledgling of a legendary dragoon watched in silent horror as his friend was led away from the behourd. _

_Cecil! Kain wanted to scream his name but his throat tightened and no sound came out of his parted lips. _

_XxX _

_Cecil's heart was hammering very fast in his chest he thought it would burst. He was being led to the armory and not only that. He was instructed to be attired in accordance to that of a full-pledged knight._

_Seriously what was going on? _

_The retired knight in charge of the armory was handing out modified versions of a cuirass, a lamellar, a gambeson, plate armor in display for his choosing. They were pleasing in the eye and just being able to touch them filled him with childish awe but even with their reduced sizes they were all very heavy and simply not built to fit the physique of a scrawny boy._

_The charge asked him again if he wanted to try any of them and he would be glad to be of assistance but the flaxen-haired youth vigorously shook his head. The captain of the royal guard and the armory charge traded unreadable stares and soon exchanged nods and without another word, the former led the livery-attired Cecil towards the deepest part of the castle._

_Dark, damp, and cold…_

_Any grown man would have feared the depths of this place. Endless walls, empty, lengthy corridors and winding pathways lined with blazing torches were the very definition of an enclosed maze. _

_Gooseflesh quickly prickled on Cecil's nape and the rest of his body. Captain Baigan and his escorts were leading him to an unknown location via the dungeons. He heard his minder tell him and Kain tales of terror about the Morgattian dungeons when they refused to be put to bed early. _

_These dungeons were said to be used by the kingdom's former tyrannical monarch to torture and execute rebels._

_The prison grills and barbed partitions have been removed and destroyed the moment Odin stepped in to fill an empty, crumbling throne. But some markings on the stone coupled with the suffocating feeling of being watched didn't stop the hackles from rising up his throat when they turned on certain corners._

"_If I wouldn't be so impolite, could I ask where we are going, Lord Zander?" Cecil asked to break the entombed silence that was currently making his rapidly pounding heart thump higher up his throat._

_The king's captain of the royal guard paused yet didn't turn around to face the insolent boy. "It matters not where we are going. But you best be on your toes, Austere."_

_This reply didn't thaw the icy cold fear steadily freezing his frantically beating heart but it gave him fair warning that something unpleasant awaits him._

_The large patch of light at the end of a blind curved corridor and the uproar of undistinguished voices coming from it immediately told him where he was._

_Cecil fought the urge to literally freeze in place. The earlier practice on the pell, the authentic weapon, the choice of armor and the formally-attired knights escorting him was beginning to make sense and the inevitable conclusion of being chosen for a mock-duel or a tournament was very clear in the boy's logical frame of mind._

"_Hurry on, boy." One of the knights chastised him. _

_The king's squire looked at him and at the weapon sheathed on his left hand. "Am I to fight in a tourney, Sir?" _

_A fleeting look of panic crossed both knights' faces while Zander's strong back remain unmoved. Perhaps they were surprised for a youth Cecil's age to understand what was to come so quickly. "Don't ask any more questions. The terms of the tournament will be explained to you, shortly."_

_The Captain of the Royal Guard didn't even incline his head as he spoke. _

'_He won't even look at me.' "Aye Sir." He gave them a curt nod and followed them in the open field of the grand arena. _

_The sudden glare of sunlight made him instinctively raise his arm to shield his eyes. The roar of an overexcited crowd however made him wish to cover his ears instead. The underground tunnels were a complete contrast to the stadium. Somehow he suspected that the knights used the nonconventional path to purposefully jar his senses. Was he to undergo some test of chivalry?_

_He wasn't made to ponder more about his predicament for a speck of gold quickly claimed his attention. The sights and sounds of the arena were muted when the young Cecil and the young Rosa's eyes met. Of all the persons to find within the open field for men, the white-mage-in-training was the last person he expected to be there with him._

_Rosa stood in full white robes; her blond hair was loose save a small knot of braid behind her head when she tried to steal another side-long glance at him. She was uneasy, he could tell so and she appeared to be withholding a grimace from showing openly on her beautiful face. _

_If he was surprised to find one of his childhood friends in the arena he was appalled to see a full-geared knight standing ahead of her. The knight was really tall; taller than most of the members of the royal guard while his physique was more slender than muscular. A complete headgear covered the man's face and the armor he wore was Aaragornian, if he was any good judge. _

"_Page Cecil Austere, step forward." Captain Baigan commanded._

_The boy suddenly had the urge to look up amongst the crowd and spotted the royal rostrum. His adoptive father, King Odin was nowhere to be found._

_Not to be told twice and shame his honor and the king's name he obeyed._

"_A pleasant morn to all. We are gathered here for a special part of the tourneys' closing ceremony. As Captain of the Royal Guard of His Majesty King Odin, I was delegated the task to stage a mock battle between His Majesty's chosen and the Alliance's chosen champion. There is only one expected outcome: The duel ends when one of the two participants is expelled from the ring."_

_Cecil noticed that a small ring had been erected at the very center of the field. Its diameter was comparable to ten men with hands linked together like in a child's game._

_Were they to wrestle in that ring and push the other out? But that doesn't connect with the weapon he had been given prior to this match. His opponent seemed not to have any weapon at all either._

"_This special tourney is known as Zantetsuken. Two opponents shall have different roles. The novice will play the role of 'Odin' while the veteran shall play the role of 'Tyrant'. Therefore, Odin who bears the sword must make the Tyrant flee outside the circle with one stroke to gain victory. If the Tyrant evades the blow and remains inside the circle then the Tyrant will be the victor."_

_The young boy's heart plummeted down his belly in hearing those words. He was to attack this unknown knight with his small sword and force him out the ring with a single blow? Were the knights making a jest out of him? There was roughly any chance for him to win except if his opponent stood still and be willing enough to be pushed outside the circle…_

_As they were commanded to take their respective positions Cecil watched with wide, anxious eyes when the knight's blade touched the ground marking the start of the duel. _

_He closed his eyes and struggled to quickly compose himself. If he couldn't act like a knight and accept this challenge despite the odds then he wasn't worthy to even be the king's son. _

_The passing thought that flashed through his mind erased his doubts in himself. He charged, determined against his opponent with a full swing._

_The crowd went ecstatic, erupting with uproarious yells and shouts. _

_Cecil saw the still figure of the man in full armor. It surprised him but he didn't slow his pace. _

_Before he knew what was happening the man was moving, slowly pacing towards him then broke into a charge wielding a broadsword that was concealed from the start._

_Against the sun, everything on the man from head to toe appeared black even his sword._

_He wanted to stop his advance but there was no way to pivot now. A shadow fell above his head and the boy could only see a blade swiftly descending before him._

_The sword was swiftly parried before it could cut a single strand of ash-blond hair._

"_You don't lay your blade on my son, even though it is you." His father's startlingly clear voice resounds beside him, shaken, admonishing, and somewhat sad…_

_The shape of Odin's back brings solace and security on the young page's rattled frame._

_By Cecil's feet lay a wooden broadsword, a 'baton' sliced into pieces on the grainy soil of the arena. _

_The crowd immediately grew silent. A few gasps of shock and indignation along with murmurings distracted Cecil enough before a woman dressed in the most sumptuous silken gown came forth in slow majestic steps flanked by knights and ladies-in-waiting._

"_I apologize, King Odin in behalf of my elder son. Sometimes youth carry untamed vigor with them, yes?" The Queen Nastasha curtsied before a suddenly thunderstruck king._

"_Pardon me Your Majesty and Your Highness but may I be allowed to attend to those who might be injured?" The small but firm voice of the neophyte white mage snapped Odin from his trance._

"_Why, of course Ms. Farrell." He really wasn't looking at the girl but the queen._

"_Let's end this farce Odin. Let the children know each other." Nastasha gave a soft radiant smile but it wasn't meant for him but for the boy he calls his son but was biologically hers to begin with._

_Cecil's eyes were neither locked gazes with his father's nor his mother's and not even his friend's. _

_The armored man had removed his dark helm._

_A shock of gold-spun hair as blond as Kain's, a perpetually sad beautifully-sculpted face and deep amethyst eyes were boring holes into his very soul. _

He awoke slowly in a semi-lit room. The place was unfamiliar but a soft flowery scent wafted into his senses.

"Lavender?" Cecil's lungs were filled with the invigorating fragrance. He inhaled deeply only realizing the mistake when pain hit him like a wave. His head suddenly felt heavy, his injured sides stung and his left leg throbbed incessantly. He groaned hoarsely and tasted something bitter in his mouth: medicine? He soon noticed that he was topless due to the bandages and he wore silk pants that were quite too long.

"Don't push yourself and lie down a little more." A smooth baritone voice admonished.

"What?" Cecil turned to the direction of the voice. He hadn't noticed until now that a dark figure curled next to the fireplace. This shadow was watching him the whole time. It caused the hairs at the back of his head to stand knowing that at this state he couldn't quite defend himself if this stranger decided to kill him. "Who are you?" He resisted the urge to back away when the towering armor approached in heavy footfalls.

"My, I'm deeply wounded by those words. Have you forgotten to recognize my voice for not seeing me for so long, Cecil?" The man inside the armor replied mock accusingly.

"Don't be a coward and show yourself! Don't hide inside that armor!" Cecil demanded, fiery indigo eyes narrowing to the armored soldier who slaughtered his would-be murderer mercilessly. The receding memory in the dream had a disquieting effect on the already vulnerable knight.

The receiver of that stare sighed and strangely consented to the bed occupant's compelling words. The armor dissolved into nothingness and revealed the vision of his last dream in the flesh.

Cecil gasped simultaneously uttering, "_Brother?_"

Radian smiled gracefully wearing fine clothes with Aaragorn Kingdom's royalty insignia at the center of the fabric.

"_No_…" The ash blond's eyes widened realizing he is in enemy territory at this crucial point.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you knowing that I just saved you from your… former comrades." Radian chuckled at his brother's alarmed expression.

"Why then? …Did you save me?" Cecil asked quietly looking away and holding back the sting in his wounds.

"Because I was certain this would happen eventually. I know I will get you back on my side that day I walked out of Morgatte's gates." Radian said smoothly.

"This doesn't mean I will cease to being Morgatte's Knight. After all you're the one who trained me to become a fine protector of my kingdom, _Brother_." The young ash blond knight stated with pride and honor.

"Your homeland has turned its back on you. This stubbornness would get you nowhere. King Odin wouldn't spare you from doubts since I influenced your knighthood. He thinks I devised this from the very beginning." The elder brother explicated.

"No. You have nothing to do with this brother. It was because of the crystal." Cecil replied with a resigned tone.

"So I heard. Since the day mother died, King Odin's been obsessed in collecting them. How foolish is that?" Radian moved closer and sat on the bed observing that the other occupant had gotten paler than normal.

"In order to get the crystal, we have to kill innocent people. I just couldn't stand it, especially when I was forced to decide killing a young girl. I… couldn't do it." The young knight visibly trembled.

"Then he declared that as cowardice and treason, am I correct?" Radian guessed impartially, soothing his brother as he brushed silver hair with his fingers in a relaxing manner that Cecil liked.

"It is treason for Morgatte but I just wouldn't become a merciless killer." Cecil faced him with lustrous indigo eyes.

"I guess that's enough for tonight Cecil. You're straining yourself just remaining awake. We can talk about plans tomorrow." Radian quickly cut him off. "We might as well retire for the night." The blond took his pillow got an extra blanket on the locker and walked across the room where a divan waited for him.

But as he approached the divan, he paused and turned to his young brother. "You really made me proud standing up to the King and not following him blindly like a puppet. You have become a valiant knight filled with honor, good night my Cecil." Radian lied down and closed his eyes leaving Cecil to contemplate.

Cecil gave him one last glance before he too complied with the demands of his body and soon drifted into a deep slumber.

Radian watched him sleep. After four years they were once again reunited by fate. It was quite surreal at the same time a strange ache surfaced from the depths of his heart. He had made up his mind. He would convince his father Silva to adopt Cecil.

XxX

What's left of the combined forces of Morgatte's cavalry and infantry returned shaken and more battle-scarred than ever.

"Did you succeed in executing Cecil Austere?" Zander interrogated at once as the soldiers marched into the royal chambers. The Adviser stood inches away from the empty throne.

"Negative, Your Excellency," was the soldiers stuttering reply.

"WHAT?" Zander hollered in rage. "How can you fail to eradicate a traitor in his helpless state? For sure he was in such a disadvantage considering your number!"

"Pardon us Your Excellency but there was interference. A strange knight clad in black impenetrable armor came for Cecil's rescue just the moment that we were about to execute him. That knight also… killed General Gringast on the spot." The remaining commander of the cavalry unit reported.

The adviser's lips compressed into a very thin line. "Very well, you're dismissed. Have those atrocious wounds treated." He said suddenly to the great astonishment of the army.

When he was left alone once again, the adviser started to tremble uncontrollably. His muscles spasmed and the bones snapped in convulsive motions. When he collapsed panting for breath against the side of the throne, his shadow lengthened and the other half of it was ripped violently as if an invisible force did so.

A human form began to materialize in the darkness. Its leer was only reserved for the suffering, writhing body of the court adviser. "I suppose your body has reached its limits. I apologize if I have to handle it so roughly. I was never used to handle my toys so gently either."

"The king's heir is safe now. Morgatte still has hope. Long live the king! Long live the king's son!" Baigan said valiantly though with great effort and pain.

The figure hidden by shadow crouched down near his prone form. "Oh is that so? I should worry about myself first before others if I were you." He raked a sharp nail at one corner of the adviser's mouth making it tear and bleed. Behind him three darker more monstrous figures appeared wearing devilish smiles in their faces.

_A/N: _Go ahead! Criticize me! (But in a good way, hehe)


End file.
