Fandom FFXII: History's Weavers [Closed]

[khorvidae]

J'wynevier's silence is palpable. The name he chose was that of his impersonator; ironic, isn't it? Luckily for Basch, she knew Gabranth, albeit on impersonal bases; more of him. A few hapless circumstances led her to the tips of his blades. Fortunately, sense sunk in before his swords had. With the few close encounters she hazarded, not once had the man's bare face been in view. It was always obscured by that ridiculous helmet of his; it's as though he was incapable of deciding between a pilot's goggles and capra horns.

J'wynevier mulled over the woven tale laid out before her. She peered back at Basch, clearly irritated but clement in her hunt to discover him in full and that damned scar. What's worse is that he didn't even look like a liar either, which annoyed her more. And while she risked their safety in scrutinizing him, she couldn't seem to convince herself to care.

Ashe had reclined in her seat at that point, finding something beyond the ship more intriguing. J'wyn let out a semi-relieved breath once, content to let the moment pass.

“Vaan claims to have seen Gabranth in the dungeons where they found Basch.” Ashe offered unprompted, as if to add credibility. J'wyn hummed noncommittally, tapping her fingers against the handle to an imaginary rhythm. Give her a break. It's not like she didn’t understand they were two different people, she just hadn't the visuals to confirm. Her mouth contorted into an awkward pout, puckered and vexed. She sucked in her cheek, clicking her tongue suddenly with a new revelation.

“It's alright,” J'wyn huffed. “I just hope “the truth” is as ideal as you make it sound.” Willing to believe it as she posed, it refused to settle in her mind. Rather, J'wyn peeked at her side. “So, what's your deal?”

“My deal?” Ashe echoed.

“Yeah, your deal. Your shtick.” She noticed the blonde's reluctance to answer, sighing loudly in response. Ashe frowned, crossing her arms and avoiding J'wyn's question at all costs. “What? Are you a princess or somethin’?”

Ashe's head whipped toward her. Her gaze held steady over J'wyn's, so hard it'd kill. In truth, the redhead was determined to pretend she couldn't feel it or notice how opulent the reaction she roused was. When her gaze fled, a smirk drew across her face. Weak poker face. It's not like she was entirely ignorant of important people; especially that of Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca. She didn't catch it right away, only mildly suspicious for a while, but now? And with that reaction? Now it's all J’wyn could think about. If Basch was capable of prevailing despite being convicted of high treason, who's to say that the princess of Dalmasca truly took her life?

⠀⠀⠀── ೄྀ ࿐​

Through thick walls, a tremble and groan echoed in protest to the resistance of the heavy wind against the hull. It's an illusion that fuzzies the vision, like anxiety when turbulence sets in and makes one's teeth chatter. It causes unease, no doubt, shutting down concurrent conversations and giving pause to the work and maintenance being performed until the noise either abates or they plummet to the floor below. Fortune shone upon them that day, and they were on their merry way, ambling down the steel-gilded path with only their boots and collectively shuffling to fill the void.

Bergan found it within himself to tame his head, and Vayne hadn't much to contribute. A mindless dawdle to the next location, and they were within the humid chambers of the Pisces hangar as planned – as promised. Yet, Cid was nowhere to be found. They were close, just not that close. Fair enough, Vayne's able to reason it out, chalk it up to nerves. The ‘kweh’s from nearby chocobo pique a tenderness in his chest, and the corners of his mouth twitched ever so subtly to expose that fact. He's intent on being stubborn, upholding an image, so his arms crossed once he was stationary, and he waited.

Liraz’s warning is what inspired Bergan to speak again, looking Vayne up and down indiscreetly. “You should─”

“I haven't need.” His attempt to even his tone failed, but it's effective in warding off the Judge. Regardless, the prince was more than content in his insulated wool coat and layers of metal. If it came to desperate measures, he possessed his own little arsenal and, if rumors were to be believed, he was quite the natural blast furnace and, if nothing else, Bergan was there. This part of the ship would warm them before the treacherous journey ahead; he just hoped it wouldn't take long.

"Are you certain?" Bergan waited so long between, Vayne was caught off guard and clueless. A moment recollection and he's left with nothing more than a damning side-eye. At times, he sounded like his father.

"Five minutes 'til landing." Some miscellaneous ship-keep hollered down the hall. Good, Cid should be on his way then. They would hate to leave without him. And how horrible would it be for the host to be the one late to the party? That just wouldn't do. Not for Cidolfus.

 

[Lucyfer]

Basch felt her searching gaze, and even let his own eyes meet it as she sought out any falseness to his tale. There wasn’t; it was overlain with guilt at failing his brother, failing his mother, as well as everyone else he failed, but there was no dishonesty to the somber narrative of filial betrayal.

Ashe added more – something J’wyn could speak to Vaan of later, but would there truly be a later? This job would finish. They didn’t need to investigate each other’s pasts. Especially not Ashe’s, and he bristled as that was prodded at.

J’wynevier already knew the truth by the sounds of it, and Ashe’s reaction didn’t help. He supposed his bristling didn’t, either, and he tried to draw it back. The damage was done, though, “It needn’t matter what it is,” he suggested then, some ice finally steeling his voice with Ashe at risk of harm or discovery, “We will do this one job together, and then we shall all vanish as if we have never met.”

Ideally.

“Perhaps we should begin to question your history with the Empire?” his gaze narrowed a touch, a veiled threat, and perhaps a reminder they all had some beef with the Empire. They didn’t need to make enemies of each other by digging into things too much. Everyone had a limit.

His limit was Ashelia. “It is evident you know far more about them than you let on, enough to suggest you’ve either worked for them, or worked alongside them.” Balthier’s knowledge also spoke to as much, but Balthier was one of them.

J’wynevier was not.

“How are we to know this is not a trap you are setting to aid the Empire?” Basch didn’t believe it was. He never would have brought Ashe onto this if he even had that doubt, but he felt it needed to be pointed out she was just as suspicious in her behavior, the random things she knew about the Imperial Cruisers, and how she even had this information about a weapon, were left unexplained.

~***~

Neither Bergan nor Vayne seemed to want to gather warmer clothes. ‘Well, if you freeze to death….’ She was about to think it wasn’t her problem, but it actually, probably was. It would be one hell of a problem if Vayne died for Cid. Liraz pursed her lips together, thinking to say something to ask how they were going to stay warm, but someone came in to mention how close they were, before she heard a bit of a scuffle and a laugh.

Cid stepped into the area, after nearly bumping into the lad who reported on the landing, and getting around him. “Good to see everyone’s here,” he noted, looking over all the face. Liraz looked away from Malah and saw Cid, at least, had the good sense to put on a damn coat, and gloves.

Even if he did seem strange in the burgundy peacoat and black cap, and not his usual attire. His two guns were now in plain sight on his back, too large to sit comfortably at his hips. Ridiculous things, but Liraz knew they packed quite the punch.

He was prepared to fight.

Liraz’s staff was in the corner of the stable, near where her coat had been, so she patted Malah and went to grab her focus.

“I trust everyone is ready?” the question was rhetorical; Cid would not concern himself with that any longer as he turned to head to the front of the ship to get them going.

Still, Liraz gave an affirming hum.

“Good, good! This will not be a quick jaunt, the Cetacea is as close as she can get, and it’s not nearly close enough,” Cid gave an exasperated sigh, “would that I had more time for researching skystones,” but he didn’t, nor did he have as much care, as he settled into the cockpit, Liraz following after and this time taking a seat. This cockpit was quite a bit more spacious than the last.

“The chocobos will make quick work of the distance,” Liraz reassured, “black chocobos travel faster than what you’re accustomed to.”

Cid chuckled, “We shall see if they can do so over snow.”

Liraz had no doubts, though. The black ones could traverse mountains without a path; snow would be nothing.

The hangar doors opened ahead, and Cid, true to his word, chose to pilot this ship out of the Cetacea.

The window crackled with sudden frost upon it, but Cid gave it no mind as he dove downwards, as close as he could get, towards the temple.

 

[khorvidae]

“Aid the Empire?” J'wynevier made no attempt to hide the resulting mixture of astonishment and mirth. Sure, she was bringing them into the depths of squalor for the Empire's betterment rather than her own. It's not impossible to assume her associations were ill, but her past was no more their business than theirs hers; yet, she pried. As far as she was concerned, she was paying them and that was enough to solidify her allegiance. “Don’t be foolish. Were I fond of the Empire, I wouldn't be stealing their artillery.”

“Your knowledge suggests the contrary.” Ashe bit.

“A woman cannot possess knowledge very well within her realm?” She was a pirate. Of course, she knew of ships and procured shifty knowledge. “My bad then.”

“I simply indicate that there is more than you're willing to share.” Of course, that’s the essence of all people. J'wynevier saw little need to indulge, however; it's not like she was a king killer or princess.

“There's nothing to know.” Well, sort of. Her standard of story-telling was far greater than her background. Had her raconteuse been there, it'd have been a different story. Literally. She shrugged. “I just steal the Empire's shit.”

“I don't believe it. There must be more to it.” This drew a hardy laugh from the redhead, like she'd heard it a hundred times by then─a hundred and one, in truth, but that was neither here nor there. It wasn't the origin of tickling, either.

“Disbelieve it then, but, just so you're aware, we are two hundred and fifty feet in the air and hurtling toward an Imperial aircraft, so if you'd rather take your chances elsewhere─” with a simple click of a button, the airtight seal of the door popped loose. “Now’s the time to jump.”

“You cannot be serious.” While it was of no concern to the pirate, Ashe looked particularly freaked out. She made no attempt at escape. “You're mad.”

J'wyn gave no answer. The air whipping around the curvature of the door caused quite the ruckus, so it didn't last long. She was quick to reseal it to retain some of her sanity. Thankfully, she remembered how. A moment passed of relative silence, with only the ship's engine and the subtle rattle of armor to disturb it. It was a recuperative silence; dividing the excitement and regularity.

Ashe was settling back in well, all things considered, where once she'd gripped the arm rests like a restless animal tugging at its cage’s bars, now, her arms were knotted over her chest.

“It's rather unfair,” Ashe couldn't even keep a straight face for a comment as absurd as that. “We cannot discuss the details of your past, but you expect us to so freely indulge ours?”

“You talked,” J'wynevier shrugged yet again.

“I didn't.” Ashe peeked back at Basch who'd been sort of left out of the discussion. Despite the scare, her face was even. That natural grimace subsided.

⠀⠀⠀── ೄྀ ࿐​

As expected, Cid made his appearance oh-so-perfectly timed and, behind him, two young shipkeeps came bearing gifts of warmth. One jut out his arm with audacious insistence, a jacket to Vayne, and he obliged as to not be rude. It's a dark jacket, but warm; lined with fleece to insulate the body. He didn't think himself in need of it, but the heft of one of the pockets carried a hand warmer, empowered by the user no doubt. Its metallic make would retain heat well, for which Vayne was most grateful. With the eyes of the shipkeeps glued to his figure, he awarded them with the honor ─ if one could call it such ─ of seeing him pour himself into the garment. He whisked his hair to the side, nodding in both appreciation and dismissal, before the keeps were with them no more. Bergan looked most pleased for a faceless entity.

Vayne followed the Doctor in tow, positioning himself near enough to hear him from the cockpit, notwithstanding his projection was as defined and crisp as a chocobo's call, but far enough to impress not as a clueless child on a field trip. At least he ─ Cid ─ kept his word, flying them however far the Cetacea was incapable. With the storm, no doubt, they could nay approach with a unit so colossal and, if they forced the bounds too recklessly, they would be stuck there.

The blizzard would not pour enough sunlight into the snow, let alone the black chocobos as anticipated; and that's not taking into consideration how facile traversing would be. Speed would do little with the dastardly nip of the chill. Without the reflections of heat embracing the deep feather coats they bore, they would certainly freeze as likely as their hume counterparts. Vayne was just as prone to caution as Cid, although he lacked the reckless abandon to find out in most cases, be it lack of clearance or otherwise.

The newly frosted windows threatened to impede the eyes, as the heat fought against the cold trickling in. For what it's worth, Vayne was glad to have a coat.

“How far into the Rift is this Esper ─ Mateus?” The cloud cover cleared just enough to make out the frosty contents with a squint. His trust in Cid, somehow marred by the actions of their ex-pilot, had Vayne gripping the closest handle like his only lifeline.

 

[Lucyfer]

Apparently, J’wynevier had no inclination to share anything. It was a point Basch would remember, as with the threat to let them go, so high up. He reached forward to hold Ashe’s shoulder, and hold her down, as if it would do anything if that glass truly popped up. Thankfully, J’wynevier did not take it so far.

It certainly kept his jaw clenched in anger, though, as he let his hand leave Ashe’s shoulder.

He was a touch annoyed at being dragged back into conversing. “It is a mistake I will not be making again.” Basch said firmly. He had answered his promise to provide his name. He now understood there was no good to come of providing information to J’wynevier.

They would perform the job, and they would leave her side, hopefully leaving the Empire weaker for it. She could continue to hassle the Empire without their aid going forward. He was sure Balthier would be glad for the change of heart.

Basch kept his gaze forward from that point on, following their companion ship when it dipped into sight, until the hangar they were meant to head into on the Cetacea became obvious by the way it opened up as the larger ship finally stopped moving. Basch could see one other ship slip out from another hangar – some sort of transport vessel – but the lights in that hangar did not light up to guide them in.

The lights in a hangar above lit up, orange, strobing lights to help them see through the snowy air.

But Balthier dove to the other hangar, instead, to sneak in after the transport vessel left.

~***~

“Far.”

Cid’s answer was as concise as it was grim, even if his tone carried none of the gravity of it. The ship did not rock around them unnecessarily despite the wind that swirled around, and Cid’s focus remained forward, “You do not build a temple just anywhere, after all,” and for some reason, it could never be easy to get to, could it?

“Do not fret, this ship will get us closer, all the same. You can see the opening to the temple at this height,” Cid pointed out.

Liraz leaned forward a bit, squinting, though that would do nothing.

She did see it.

The square opening amongst the mountains was hard to miss, clearly an unnatural formation, and one that was also hard to imagine humans making. It was too perfectly square, though the path that led to it was jagged and sloping – barely a path, only discernible by the mountain tops themselves, proving the valley existed.

Cid couldn’t get close enough to land in the valley, or in the square. The ship protested, and Cid didn’t attempt to push it, lest they couldn’t get the ship back in the air. He found solid ground, although it was obvious a river nearby – and in fact, ran all the way up to the temple. That was the winding, jagged path forward – a river frozen by the cold, which made sense for Kalyma and her temple.

The landing was gentle, although the sound of the wind howling around the ship, and the skittering of ice, did not make the idea of leaving it any more enticing.

“I do trust those chocobos of yours can go over ice?”

“Yes,” Liraz held no doubts on that, although she knew it would still be bad if the ice broke on them. “I trust them over ice.”

“Well then,” Cid rose, not turning the ship off. The heat would be important when they returned, as would a quick exit. He did turn the key so it was left in a sort of idling mode, at no risk of moving – so long as Maxence didn’t touch the ship. “No time to waste!” Cid clapped his gloved hands together, “Let’s get on our way while we have sun.”

As if that improved things greatly.

Liraz rose from her seat and led the way back where the chocobos were stabled. Maxence seemed a touch unnerved by the sounds outside, but he still did his job: the chocobos were now all saddled, with a couple of bags added that radiated warmth. Some were also stuffed with food for the chocobos, in case bribery was needed.

“We are all set, Maxence. I am entrusting you with the ship until we return.”

Maxence nodded, “I have Kashu ready for you,” he said, gesturing to the chocobo for Cid, before he addressed the others, Liraz already heading over to Malah, “And for you, Lord Vayne, there is Saria, and for Judge Bergan, I have prepared Mideel.”

Mideel was arguably the largest of the chocobos there, so it made sense, given the heavy weight of Bergan’s armor. Two other chocobos remained unclaimed, but he wouldn’t offer them.

 

[khorvidae]

The clouds peeled back for the Cetacea to fall into view at last. It's a massive vessel compared to their Minnow ship; bulging at the body, decorative wings sweeping widely to pretend to hold it steady. Its dark colorings defined its silhouette from the billowing mass just off in the distance. There's a majestic air to it. Its origin was no question; that's the product of Archadian innovation and decades of thought-out design. For an aura so intimidating, the warmth it relayed in spite of the storm ─ in spite of everything; that endurance ─ felt rather familiar, like home.

Not like the warm embrace of kin or the cozy remainder of a homemade meal, but like a fireplace just extinguished. It's fleeting. Those final embers take umbrage against her return and set ablaze her heart, and, for it, she's clenching her jaw tight. It takes more than self-control to keep her disdain left unsaid, but, rest assured, the words prodding her lips are much too foul to expel. The thematic augments were newly polished; foreign to the eyes ─ her eyes — the ones whose vision it was fashioned after. To see it again…

The ship gradually ducks once their companion ship has made its move. The decline pushes J'wynevier forward in her seat. The already ironclad grip she has on the sticks manages to graduate to carbon steel; she's almost too keen on keeping herself as still as possible in spite of the shudder engulfing their plummeting vessel. But if there's anything to be grateful for, it's the silence. She's run out of quippy remarks and questions, but even that seems to affect the mood of the ship. None of them were happy. They’d little incentive to be cordial, especially with regards to all the pestering that had been done. The crescendo resulted in nothing more than a vexed fizzle, thankfully.

They follow the begging strobes, pulling a wide turn to ease in. Concentric tunnels that ribbed the walls grew dark with their deep descent. Their ship stuttered in a disconcerting fashion as it yielded to the carrier’s guidance. After a moment of turbulent unease, the ship, programmed to do so, shut down. Another door ─ in front of them ─ drew wide, pouring light into their faces. J'wyn squinted, and Ashe shielded her eyes with her arm.

“Steel yourself─” J'wyn hopped up, out of her seat, now with adjusted vision. “They're expecting us.”

⠀⠀⠀── ೄྀ ࿐​

If Vayne had to guess, their curio would be buried within the formation beyond the makings of their vision. The snow paid little mind to their desires, for what reason did it have to care? It fell ─ as did they. Plummeting to the frosty landscape below to unite with its knolls of kin. They followed, more out of coincidence than a desire to keep pace with it. Cid, being an excellent pilot, would not play with them as such ─ unless he would. Vayne would not order it, either, advantageous and alluring as it sounded. Farewell did he bid to the sky scraping mountains and dusty clouds as they too fell out of view. He hoped he would live to see them again.

When they had landed and the ship groaned against the wind, neither Vayne nor Bergan were persuaded away from their respective spots. But, to be expected, once Cid pushed for progress, the prince was quick to walk his path. Sunlight was as good for them as it was the beasts crawling around the wastelands, only they had the unique disadvantage of being far, far from this place. The coveted wildlife would linger just out of sight, no doubt, until it came time to strike. Then they would know ─ boy, would they.

Vayne is in no hurry. Between leaving the Cetacea and arriving there, his excitement waned, and now his expected haste devolved into a reluctant trot. Through the complete neutrality of his face, he fought a grimace produced by yet another morose drone, and his pace quickened, like escaping a dark room when all other lights were dim.

In the stables, the chocobos were remarkably calm, all things considered, compared to their stable hand, anyhow, whose unease was palpable. Once Vayne was assigned his ─ Saria ─ he held out a hand to greet her. Call it ignorance to loyalty, or blatant disrespect, but she reared her head, as to deny him. For an animal, it's a charming quirk. Cute even. Not conducive to progress.

“Fret not,” Vayne coaxed. His fingers grazed the side of her beak. Had his voice not been so soft, he'd have lost his hand.

Fortunately, that was the extent of their trust building exercise. He was no stranger to the saddle, and, propitiously, Saria was more accustomed to being ridden than presumed. Once he was on, he was on. Bergan, for his part, took to chocobo riding a little less favorably. The chocobo ─ Mideel ─ was chosen to accommodate his great size but not his lesser mobility due to that size.

His first attempt to mount failed, but that was nowhere near as cataclysmic as his second attempt, where his armor dug into the animal's flesh; he was promptly thrown off following a squawk. As he deserved.

Vayne, intending not to smirk, let alone laugh, at this endeavor, gauged Maxence's reaction until he was capable of addressing Bergan without seeming beguiled by his failures.

“Are you alright, Judge Magister?” At this rate, they'd be lucky if they left by nightfall. He's polite enough to ask, although he's more worried about the chocobo, who's particularly peeved.

“I am quite alright,” It's the embarrassment that tugs at his voice that's most droll.

“Very well,” Vayne outstretched an arm, to which Mideel sought comfort in. A gentle giant if ever there was one. Bergan took another jab, only this time he was successful.