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Fandom Final Fantasy: The Age of Ophiuchus [Closed]

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The other three were quick to make themselves scarce to prepare for departure as Sesario waited for Zariel’s answer. The case for Elcid to be a peace offering had at least been agreed by her, but she in return had her own conditions.

He remembered what she had said before about keeping a tight lip. Really, as untrustworthy as he had been, he hadn’t really disclosed too much on Zodiac situation. He only mentioned it briefly with Hector, something to be discussed with later. Though, not if Zariel was conscious about those acting on behalf of a large snake.

“Alright. My lips are sealed,” Sesario agreed. Better the one with more knowledge on this divulge what she needed to. He too looked to Cid, who just sighed.

“Tch. I know when I’m not wanted,” Cid muttered. Before he could move off, probably to one of the very many extra rooms here, the ship had lifted into the air. He grabbed a nearby railing for support, while Sesario looked as if he might grab something, though, only swayed. He stabilised, pushing himself from the railing. He hadn’t given so much of a ‘see you later’ before he started towards some of the spare rooms on the ship.

Better be a good peace offering and stay out of politics for as long as he could.

~***~

Conversation drifted from topic to topic, but it was something Cleon was quite thankful for. His mind would always wander back to Kikiti and Didymus, how time wouldn’t work in their favour. When he began to fear the worst, Gamesh’s words sucked him back in, made him engage.

Cleon’s mind drifted to old Ucantis legends involving the sword he wielded. He had heard many – or rather many variations of one or two. A gift from Asura to one of Ucantis’s most loyal and talented knights. He wondered if Severance had been one relic.

And he wondered, anxiously, if the sword was as dangerous as old tales made out.

Perhaps just legends. Silly tales made up to direct the moral compass of children and adults alike. He shared Gamesh’s enjoyment of such stories. What boy wasn’t entranced by magic, weapons, and glory?

‘They do say that the down feathers of phoenix bring back the dead, after all.’

It was that which made Cleon straighten up a little, his attention brought back fully to this moment. “Bring back…the dead?” He asked, clearly looking to confirm he had heard such a phrase. The idea seemed absurd, the basis of myths and legend once again, and yet it could change so much.

Gamesh nodded. “So, they say. But anyone who finds one should count themselves lucky. They’re no common commodity.”

‘But if we did find one...it would bring her back.’

Yes, that was what the feathers did, like Gamesh said. Maybe his mother didn’t have to remain dead. Cleon thought back to the feathers Kikiti had stashed in her bag, once or twice marvelling at the colours of the sunset bleeding through them. He could bring one back to Ucantis. He just needed to return home first...

Something roared above them, shattering the silence that had settled around their makeshift campsite. Trees swayed at the force of what passed and leaves dropped to the ground. When Cleon looked up, he saw the tail-end of what looked to be an airship, and quickly rose to his feet. “Imperials?” No, maybe not. Surely he would have remembered seeing red. And why would they bring an airship when they were already so close in Rozari?

Enkidu started barking wildly at the ship that was landing in the clearing in the distance. “Enkidu,” Gamesh called firmly, and the hound resigned himself to his low growling. If he was so unsettled, that was a sign. Gamesh got low, instructed the others to do the same. He was able to spy the landing ship in between the trees and foilage sheltering them. “Doesn’t look like an Imperial vessel. But maybe that’s the point.”

Cleon swallowed back. How long could they keep running? Why weren’t they running now? “Do we mean to fight them if they are…?” That was a question that Gamesh or Reva should be asking him, and he felt almost embarrassed asking that.

“GUS!!!”

Gilgamesh paused at the shout, blinking at Reva and Cleon. “Who’s...?”

Cleon didn’t think he would ever be relieved hearing that fake name. “Me. It’s a fake moniker. Who you’re hearing is Kikiti, one of our friends.” He figured Kikiti was erring on the side of caution. Danger could have been anywhere near them, after all.

It took some time for Kikiti to find them, and for the three of them to emerge from the safety from their shelter and into the clearing. Sesario waited closer outside the ship’s entrance while Kikiti explained how she befriended Hector, who had been partners with the Sesario Kavalieris, who commandeered the ship. She found the man and the dog strange, where Cleon and Reva had to explain his origins in turn. All the while, Enkidu raised his nose, fervently sniffed, and gave low growls. Those persisted at Sesario’s presence too when they reached him.

The Twelve made such interesting choices when it came to marking people.

From there, Sesario brought Cleon, Reva, and Gamesh up to speed on the current situation. Though...he wondered about the presence of Gamesh. Kikiti nor Didymus mentioned anyone else travelling alongside them. Still, what he had to tell them wasn't...sensitive. He told them that Didymus and Elcid were safe inside the airship, having picked them up after Kikiti spoke to his partner, Hector, about the situation. Knowing all three would walk in on her soon he told them about who was waiting onboard to speak with them without Imperials at her back.

Cleon’s demeanour had changed on their walk to the ship. Fear struck him first. He didn’t feel ready. He wasn’t ready. Flight felt like the only option to him. What was a fugitive like him going to do about this?

“To think, all this madness could be stopped here by you,” Gilgamesh murmured, though, still loud enough for the dear prince to hear. “Maybe our Queen will finally rest easy…” Let it grow.

Cleon straightened up and swallowed back. From fear, hatred and anger sprouted so easily, so quickly. Cleon didn’t want to wait any longer to gather his thoughts or prepare himself. He had done that over countless nights since he fled his home. He would settle this, straighten things out, right here.

Sesario had led them to the lounge where Zariel was being ‘kept’, so to speak. Cleon hadn’t time to take in much of this new environment. He walked into the room and picked out Zariel in an instant. He hadn’t stopped though, not until he found himself in the centre, with some distance between them both.

Cleon wasn’t sure what he expected. An authoritative figure, yes, but he was almost surprised at how more…dressed down she was. Though, still like her, Imperial was written all over it. He hadn’t known what counted as Imperialist, though, knew the colours of red, black, and gold all too well. Especially the golden smatter of freckles that shone on her cheek. Cleon felt more aware of his own marking then, something he had simply shrugged off in the past as to simply just being there. It made him wonder, once again, what one marked individual could want with all the other marked ones.

Nothing good if she conquered his homeland.

“Empress.” Her name would have tasted too bitter on his tongue. The title tasted just as bad. He couldn't bring himself to 'appreciate' her presence here, how 'humble' she was to take time to meet him.
 
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The ship certainly did not have as smooth a rising as Zariel was used to, and she did shoot Sesario a look when she had to reach out to the wall, as well. Not even in heels! Naturally, he was obviously used to his own ship. Zariel regrouped soon enough, and resisted the urge to continue forward to look out the window.

To see where they were going.

‘You’re trying to be fair.’

Such was the thought that Zariel repeated to herself, when the ship started to land, and when she was directed towards a lounge by Hector. Didymus chose to accompany, for reasons that became obvious when she saw the look that Hector gave him. Hector knew quite a lot, it seemed. And Zariel just knew how foolish it would be to step out of the ship and into the open.

She would let Cleon’s friends explain things to him. Get him prepared.

And she? Well, the lounge had its perks, “I don’t suppose you could make something interesting,” Zariel noted as she took a seat near the counter of the bar, “Jagger’s mentioned your culinary skills.”

“Of course she has,” Didymus murmured. He thought of making a threat of poison, thought better of it, and glanced over the many offerings, before deciding he might as well have a drink, too. He felt…very stressed. And anxious.

Eventually he whipped up a drink in a highball glass and offered it to Zariel, something blue to spite her, though it would still be adequate. She seemed to like it enough from the first sip. “Nervous?” He dared to ask.

‘Something like that.’ Zariel wouldn’t confess, and just shook her head.

“Bored.”

Hector let out a loud, frustrated sound at her answer, no doubt wondering how she could possibly be bored while waiting on Cleon to show up and having some sort of life changing conversation. Of course, Hector was pacing the room, and kept stealing out to check in on things.

And then, there was the sound of steps. Zariel left her half-finished drink on the counter as she rose to be standing when Cleon Bandoethel entered, with Sesario, Reva, and some…stranger with him.

It should have been Cleon that Zariel focused on, but her gaze drifted from that long-haired king to the stranger with the red cloak, pinning him under her gaze the way a hawk would a snake. And that was it exactly – Zariel knew, in a way she couldn’t explain, just who this was.

The red wasn’t something natural. There was more to it, layers to the color a human eye couldn’t pick up, and for an instant, Zariel thought she could comprehend the overlay of it in a way almost painful.

The bark of that damned dog was a language she knew, but couldn’t have translated if her life depended on it.

‘I know you.’

She had seen them when she nearly died, mind coming close to death experiences she didn’t know – but felt. It was all like a flash of fire. There, and gone in an instant – but forever seared into her mind.

She breathed into the title, drew her gaze lazily away from the Threat, and back to the King. No, she could not blow this situation to hell now. He looked every bit a Ucantis noble, with his long hair. His height was not so imposing, but then again, few were imposing when she was used to Oleander.

“Your Grace,” she returned the titling, “Thank you for coming to see me. There is much I need to explain, and much I need to make amends for.” That part clearly caused the viera some surprise, for her brows lifted.

Zariel lifted her hand and gestured out, “If you would allow us the privacy to speak – you may retain your guard, Reva, and His Grace, Kavalieris, may stay as a neutral party, or you may elect another if you prefer. I understand you are not terribly familiar with him.”

“Whatever you have to say, can be said to us all.” The Threat said, his dog staying at his heel. A dog that was unlike every dog on Hyune, Zariel would bet gil on that – though of course, no one knew dogs well enough to call it on that.

“I am afraid you are in no position to determine that,” Zariel kept herself composed, but she wanted to hiss out snake. She wanted Sesario to know, but calling one of Cleon’s apparent allies a snake was likely not going to make things turn the way she wanted them. There was a reason it was an insulting word.

Didymus was absolutely prepared to leave the room, and grabbed his own glass and made his way for the door. Reva did pin him with a look, but he just tried to look helpless and confused under it. Which, really, was how he felt. Helpless, and confused.

“Where is Elcid?” Reva said, before anyone could say anything further.

“I can get him,” Didymus said, “he’s okay – I’ve seen myself he’s okay. Just avoiding…this.” Which Didymus would very much like to do, as well.
 
Cleon couldn’t understand why Zariel’s eyes had drifted as if the very person she had been looking for wasn’t right in front of her. But he couldn’t take his gaze off her to see what else had interested her so much. He didn’t trust himself to do it. He didn’t completely trust her.

But Zariel’s gaze did return to him, eventually, gaining interest again. It was difficult not to react to her words. That sharp breath at her claim where she needed to make amends. ‘Did you think the same thing when you wept at my mother’s funeral?’ The thought of it sickened him. He wanted to imagine the people who cared about her death were infuriated by it.

Already, there were cut-ins. Cut-ins from Gamesh, who voiced the same thoughts he was having. Reva herself asked for Elcid’s wellbeing, who Didymus confirmed was safe. He felt a twinge of guilt at not even asking after Elcid, the man they came here for.

“Go get him. I want to see him for myself,” Cleon ordered Didymus, firm in his tone, but in all honesty, felt childish with his demands. Should he have felt like that? Authority was something that should be befitting of a prince—a king, but it was something he didn’t feel so used to wearing.

He knew Gamesh wasn’t in a position to ask for answers for all of them, but Cleon was. He had to show that he was.

“Everyone stays,” Cleon told her, steadfast in his decision. “I think I’m not the only one who deserves to hear your explanation. After all, it wasn’t just my home that’s been affected in all of this.” It was hard not to let that bitterness seep into his voice. He was already walking across a thin tightrope, the borderline of intense emotions, where he threatened to slip any second.

Kikiti had joined Hector, her nerves having risen as soon as they entered the ship. Somehow, she was surprised to hear Cleon speak in such a way. She knew Cleon’s emotions had been…volatile. She could only remember him being upset or sulky, and only once when he snapped at Jagger. Kikiti felt her left foot burn with an itch that she tried to rub against inside her boot. She was so terribly uncomfortable.

The lalafell wasn’t the only one. Sesario knew it was like a goddamn icebox in here with the weight of the Bandoethel’s words. And Zariel’s reaction to Gamesh and the mutt who hadn’t moved an inch from where they stood was hardly accommodating. He was starting to have his own reservations about the man, but how was he meant to get involved? Throw him off the ship? Hardly neutral. He could already hear the accusations of being an Imperial lover.

Ironically, he could be in the future in one sense. That wasn’t something Cleon needed to know though.
 
It was obvious that Cleon Bandoethel was still deeply impacted by what had happened. Then again, how could he not be? In one fell swoop, Zariel had taken his mother and his home from him. He’d been on the run. It had likely been his every waking thought. So, she was not surprised with his unsteadiness, his breathing – nor did she find herself terribly surprised by his direction to get Elcid, and keep everyone present.

This was going to be a difficult battle – but even he had to see compromises would have to be made, right?

Zariel let Didymus leave, though watched him to the end, taking that time to make sure she wouldn’t snap immediately at Cleon’s demand. Composed once more, she again met his gaze and stepped forward, opening her arms, “As you’ll see, Your Grace, I’ve come unarmed, and without my army, without so much as a guard.”

Her hands fell back to her side. “I am not asking for much in requesting to speak with you, your guard, and Prince Kavalieris,” by the Twelve, how she did get sick of formalities, though. Sesario was probably cringing inwardly if what she had gathered thus far was accurate. “It is a small compromise. You would still outnumber me. Your friends would not be far, and I’m quite certain Captain Reva outmatches me – given the years of experience.” A small nod.

A small lie.

She’d just faced down plenty of viera and wasn’t too afraid of Reva, truth be told, but she ought to make Cleon feel like he had the upper-hand to make him dismiss everyone else without much of a fight.

Of course, the damned snake wouldn’t allow it to be that easy. He puffed up, “I’m a part of the Ucantis guard, and I feel responsible to make sure His Grace isn’t harmed or tricked by you. I know what’s been going on in Ucantis, I can make him aware of any lies you’d try to tell him about how your handling our beloved country.”

“I am sure you could,” could she just set him on fire? Yes. But then the conversation would be over. “And I will not ask that His Grace make any decisions without consulting all of you,” however it was clear she wasn’t straying from wanting to get rid of the audience.

“Then we can all hear it at once.” Gamesh insisted, “afraid I’ll call you on your bullshit and get you flustered? Afraid you won’t end up as eloquent as you’re trying to be? I know what you are.”

“And I know what you are, you wretched snake.” The word was finally spat, the temper flaring.

What Gamesh hoped for. Fire signs – they had that terrible flaw, and he said, without missing a beat, “It’s cat, actually.” Unaware that Sesario would understand what Zariel meant. And knowing that Reva and Cleon, who knew there was a Snake among the Twelve blessed by the Twelve, knew his reference.

Which meant Zariel’s meant nothing.
 
Zariel pitched the same compromise again, noting how she came alone and unarmed, vulnerable and outnumbered. He doubted he was as vulnerable as she made herself out to be. The Empire was a martial nation after all, and she bore a mark. Surely she had something up her sleeve, something she could use against them all if things didn't go the way she planned them?

But this was meant to be a negotiation. A call for peace and for an explanation. Could he really not concede to compromise, given the disadvantage Zariel was at?

Elcid rounded the corner, and stopped at the sight of the long-haired noble. He thought back to how he heard his friend's son was the spit of him. But he saw more of his mother in his face when Cleon softened that little bit.

Cleon wasn't sure what he expected of Elcid. His abrasive manner had thrown him off initially, for why would his father keep company with him? But perhaps he was being too harsh without speaking to him. There was more to him, he was sure. "Are you well, Elcid?"

The lad had found his voice, and so Elcid scoffed, "Still breathing, aren't I?" Though, imagining that didn't give him a clear answer, he added, "I'm fine." His eyes moved to the viera, and gave her a nod of acknowledgement too. There he was, aging, looking to retire, and Reva hadn't looked as if she aged from the day and hour he met her. "Reva."

Such a reunion - or, rather, meeting, was cut short, by Gamesh's assertiveness that he wouldn't let Cleon be tricked. Cleon had retreated from that softness again, listening to the flurry of words exchanged and picking apart everything that was said. The tricks, the manipulation. All Imperial methods. He could imagine she was doing much the same in Rozari, speaking with the ruling monarchs. What decisions he would have to make, he feared and didn't know.

Cleon witnessed how Gamesh stoked the fire in Zariel, that underneath that exterior, she was as volatile as the rest of them.

But there was so much shouting, and back-and-forth, and it made it so difficult to try and keep his head straight with everything happening at once.

"That's enough," Cleon finally spoke, "from both of you. We're not getting anywhere like this." He looked to Zariel, and though he loathed the idea, he yielded. "I'll honour your request, if it means you'll finally explain everything." He would play ball. But it didn't mean he would enjoy doing so.

Gilgamesh paused, genuinely surprised by Cleon's decision. "Your Grace, I don't thin—"

"It doesn't matter what you think," Cleon's interruption was harsh, and the man lowered his head, silently seething. "The decision is mine to make. Let me speak with her alone."

'Brat.' Just as things were heading in the right direction, Asura's little pet threw it all into disarray. Gilgamesh bowed, hair cascading over his shoulders once more. He'd relent, but water the seed just that little more. "My apologies, Your Grace. I simply wish you to avoid being deceived by a sweetened tongue." Gamesh's eyes moved to Sesario, whose gaze hadn't broken from his. Gilgamesh hadn't even realised the irony of his words in his presence. He finally rose and nodded. "But I trust in your judgement, my king."

Gamesh then, surprisingly, was the first to take his leave, Enkidu slinking behind at his heels. One by one, those who weren't part of the four who would stay left. Elcid gave Cleon a cursory glance before he left, before muttering under his breath about how they needed to make up their minds on his presence.

And then it was four. Cleon, Reva, Sesario, Zarel. Cleon remained standing, but gestured in front of him. "You got what you wanted. So, start talking."
 
Elcid joined, an interruption of sorts, though Reva acknowledged him with a silent nod, and allowed Cleon to interrupt Gamesh and Zariel. ‘So, you are not as unknown as you thought.’ Reva only considered that Zariel knew that Gamesh was a rebel in Ucantis. She had apparently confused him with the Snake.

Reva was not certain she preferred so many gone, but she would not argue with Cleon in front of Zariel. They did not know Sesario. For all any of them knew, Sesario was already well aligned with the Empire, and far from neutral, no matter how he had presented himself. Still, Reva would not request another neutral party.

And Hector, ushered out with the others, would be the one to usher people further away and make sure the order was followed, even if Gamesh gave him a dirty look. He held it, and held his ground a few steps away to prevent anyone from being too close – himself included. Despite not being an imposing figure, he had an imposing glare he’d used on Sesario enough times.

Not that Gamesh thought much better of Hector than he did Cleon right then.

Zariel waited until the room was emptied, nodded, “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said when at last there was space to speak. And, she moved, standing more in-front with a sigh as she cooled back down from that irritating outburst. “First and foremost, I will not apologize for calling out that stranger with you. You may think them an ally when I say they are, in fact, my actual enemy.”

Reva arched a brow. Well, that certainly made Gamesh sound more appealing than before, but there was obviously more to be said.

“Reva, if I may – how long have you had that mark?”

“My entire life.”

“And how long is that?”

Reva fixed her with a dull look, wondering what business it was of Zariel’s. Still, she answered vaguely, “Longer than any human has lived.”

Good enough. “I suspect around the time you got your mark, the stars began to fade. I do not know if your kind marked the event—”

“We did.” Reva bristled at the ‘your kind’, knew there was an insult under the surface, the suggestion of being primitive, but she wouldn’t rise to that bait further. “What point are you making?”

“That for a little over a century, the Twelve have been manifesting on Ivocia, against their will because they cannot return to their homes. That’s why there are so many now. That’s why I’ve been moving across the continent. I don’t care about conquest, but it’s the only way to begin sweeps and searches for you – the marked.” She sighed, “I didn’t want it to come to war, anywhere. I tried to talk to Queen Inara to allow me to speak with you, months and months ago, King Bandoethel. She denied me at every turn.”

No doubt, because Zariel told her nothing.

She couldn’t trust even Inara with this.

“That stranger is working with Ophiuchus, the Serpent, to destroy our world. This goes far beyond petty conflicts of kingdoms and individual losses.” Not the right words for someone grieving a loss, no doubt. And Reva didn’t look at all satisfied with it, though…she could not deny being uncertain as to how honest Zariel was.

She had wondered about the stars for a while.

“Leviathan has told me nothing of this,” Reva said, a thoughtfulness entering her tone. “He should know, and he has said nothing, in all this time.”

‘The other Zodiacs, my eternal bane.’ Zariel didn’t say that. Admitting that no other zodiac seemed to know what was going on, wasn’t going to help her situation.
 
Gamesh's words still remained with him. How easily this Empress could twist things. Even as she blatantly called him an enemy, it was all he could think about. He should have questioned why that was, but all he could think of was that Cleon and Ucantis were enemies to her too.

But he let her speak. He tried not to let that hatred, deep inside of him, interrupt her. Even as Zariel spoke with Reva, personally, about her mark, he tried to listen, to understand. Talk of stars, and the Twelve. If she had known so much about the Twelve, and what had happened to them, why hadn't Reva known? Leviathan mentioned nothing. Cleon had been told next to nothing, if he really had a Zodiac residing with him.

And his mother...he hadn't even known his mother was in contact with the Empress. That alone shook him. Surely she would have told him. She would have mentioned it. She wouldn't just...lie to him about that, would she?

No, no, she had good reason to deny Zariel. She had to have. Not when she had lost so much already.

And in the end, she lost her life because of it. Because the Empire couldn't get what they wanted, like they always seemed to. And it infuriated him, to no end. The claims - no lies, unless they were truths - could he really believe any of what she told him? About the stranger, this Ophiuchus who he had never heard of. His head throbbed trying to make sense of it all.

Sesario, in the meanwhile, watched Cleon, trying to see if he believed any of it. Whether he did or not, he couldn't tell, because the man was practically a storm brewing in a tea cup. Emotional, as anyone would be, but personal feelings were too entangled with the facts.

And that storm came spilling out of the teacup on Zariel's words.

"Petty?" Cleon finally asked. "Is that what you think of those who have died and been subjugated by you? Petty?" He spat. What an abhorrent, vile insult, not just to those he had lost, but to the countless others who had suffered at the hands of the Empire. It didn't make sense. None of this made sense. Not when Reva had spoken of Leviathan, not when he knew nothing of his own mark or Asura - was he born under her dominion? He couldn't remember, not in the heat of the moment.

"Even if you were telling the truth," Cleon continued, which insinuated he didn't believe her, but he couldn't be sure given Gamesh's warning and with all feelings of grief and anger tightening their hold on him he just couldn't tell, "conquest for that? All that devastation and domination for some—some search for the Twelve?!" And she didn't want to start wars. He could have laughed at the irony of it.

"Cleon," Sesario stepped forward and skipped titles completely, appealing to the man directly. Dangerous, given the off-guard look the Bandoethel shot him. But Zariel was right, for even being called by his own title was enough to make Sesario cringe inwardly. It was a title that slowly became foreign to him, one that never fit as well as 'sky pirate' did. "Take a minute. I know this is difficult, and I understand what it feels like to lose—"

"Did you lose both of your parents to the Empire?" One he had never known was terrible enough. To kill his mother too rubbed salt far too deeply into an already open wound. And it was something Sesario clearly wouldn't understand, not with his silence. "How deep are you in with the Empire?"

'Deeper than I'd like to be,' Sesario wanted to admit, but he wouldn't worsen that storm. "I only came back to the Empire knocking on my door today. I didn't plan this." Before Cleon could throw out more accusations, more emotionally fuelled words, he explained, "And I didn't have to bring either of you together on my ship," he felt the need to emphasise his own authority here, even if it felt miniscule under a king and an empress, "I'm risking as much for myself and...and Rozari." He wanted to say home, deep down, but the word just refused to come.

He needed this to go well for himself as Zariel did for herself. Damn it, wasn't Hector supposed to think through hare-brained schemes and not suggest them?

"So, you believe her?" Cleon laughed, embittered. "Even if she's like me, can't summon one of the Twelve like she's supposed to?" He had heard the stories , where her grandfather had summoned a flaming bird and she hadn't even managed it once.
 
It was a good choice of words for someone not personally involved. It was not the right choice of words for Cleon. Zariel saw that immediately, as Sesario intervened and tried to talk sense to him. ‘How do I get through?’ Reva knew nothing. Sesario knew nothing. The fact it didn’t shake her was some testament perhaps to her own brainstorming, and that agony – that want to shout – that she lost her parents to this madness, too.

That it had so overtaken her father he tried to kill her.

And her mother….

She clenched her jaw. She didn’t need to bring Amarum politics, or society, into this. The culture had plenty that needed to change, among it being the typical competitive nature, but that wasn’t her job right now. Her job was solely to save the damn world, and then she was done. She might, quite literally, decide to be done and retire, but that was to be determined.

‘If I have to deal with any more angry nobles like this….’ And she would. Before this was done, when she had to set everything to right again, she’d have hundreds.

“If I did not need the Twelve, I would not waste my time with this search. I am doing much more than just that,” those things she definitely couldn’t say in front of the Stranger, those things which involved bringing the fight to Ophiuchus himself, rather than wait for the Serpent to come here.

She wouldn’t even mention that now. Just in case. “Prince Kavalieris bears a mark as well,” she wouldn’t step down from titles in front of Cleon, at any rate. Best not to seem familiar with the prince, lest he lose all standing as neutral. “Sagittarius. Bahamut. My brother, a noble of house Virys – there aren’t many I haven’t catalogued now, but I know they’re all here, and it’s because Ophiuchus took them from the sky and scattered them here. They’ve had to bond to us, and we have to help them deal with Ophiuchus, so yes, forgive me if I consider everything here,” she swiped her hand across the air, “a bit petty compared to saving our world, Your Grace.”

She sighed, “We’ve all had our share of losses. And I understand my conquest has caused the greatest loss for you. I cannot bring Queen Inara back.”

“But you are Phoenix.” Reva said. That caused Zariel to furrow her brows, “Perhaps as Cleon says, you have not brought it forth, but Phoenix is known to restore life. Would it not be possible to use that power?”

Zariel was silent a few moments. Then, “If that were true, my grandfather would be standing here now, not I. Yet, he is dead. It’s a legend. Leander could bring no one back to life, not even himself. If I could,” she extended her hand more gently, not to be taken, “I would.” And let it fall back to her side. “I would bring many back. I lost my own parents to all of this.” A small bid at understanding. “Countless of my own friends have fallen in the fighting, as well. Were it not for something as important as Ivocia, I would not be in the business of war – my grandfather would not be in the business of war.”
 
Zariel needed the Twelve. Was it all just to fight Ophiuchus? To better secure her grip on the rest of Ivocia, for whatever else she had planned? Better to have twelve marked united, and under the Empire's flag in her ideal world than otherwise. Maybe that was what she witheld from them, what she had planned when she had each and every one of them lined up in front of her.

Cleon glanced to Sesario at the mention of his mark.

He had nodded back, as if to confirm it was true. “Yeah. Twenty odd years now, or maybe more,” he explained off-hand.

Cleon felt a fury flush on his face. Was that something so trivial that he couldn't mention himself before? And Zariel, of all people, knew this before Cleon or Reva had a chance to. They had to have spoken of this before beforehand. How could she have known? And how much had he known of all of this?

How many more marked individuals did Zariel know of bar the ones she listed? Did she know of Kikiti? She couldn't have, not if she was simply a citizen living in Ucantis. Hers wasn't a mark so easily seen. She probably hadn't expected a lalafell to possess a mark anyway, and Cleon wouldn't confirm it. Not when he couldn't trust the validity of Zariel's words.

Cleon did shudder with a building rage at Zariel's blaise reaction to past tragedies, only, to recount her own losses. Maybe he should have sympathised, if his mind was clearer, but now, how was he meant to remotely relate to her? Deep down, maybe he did, but he had so many conflicting thoughts, of trying to tell what was right and wrong, that he couldn't bring himself to pity her. He wasn't supposed to sympathise with her. No, not at all. He didn't believe it.

"No," Cleon shook his head, indignant. "No, if your grandfather hadn't started these wars, so much could have been avoided. It could have stopped with you, you know. You wouldn't even have had to lose so many in the first place." He hadn't asked for death. No one else asked for death. Wars, all to supposedly find the Twelve, when it could have been done so differently. Wars that she had no qualms in continuing, despite her apparent sympathies and desires to end conflict.

He thought of the account of how she wept in Ucantis. That manipulation that Gamesh had gone so far as to warn him about. And that boiled his blood further to no end.

"But maybe that was what you wanted. I bet you wept for those you lost like you did for her without so much of a feeling. You wanted to keep going and push your luck, without so much as explaining yourself and you wonder why no one will speak with you? Why no one trusts your word?!" Common sense, rational thought, it gave way to an anger and a hurt that had built in Cleon for so long. He was practically trembling, words spilling out without so much of a thought attached to any of them. "You can barely bring everyone on Ivocia under your thumb, never mind unite the Twelve!"
 
And people said it was Fire that had the worst temper!

Zariel wasn’t an unfeeling automaton. She did feel for Cleon and his rage, his loss, but it was blinding him. She clenched her fists at her side. ‘This was a bad idea.’ But she would have had to talk to him one day, no matter what. ‘If you could just figure out how to separate the Twelve from their hosts, Lixue….’ That might be necessary with Cleon, and by default, then with Reva.

Zariel swallowed, hard, as his harsh accusations came. She wanted to be as stony as he accused her of, and that was indeed what she reflected. No tears for Cleon. Nor would she allow her rage to boil over, unfortunately playing into what he accused her of in a need to keep to the logic. “The reason I have not said anything to the world is the one standing outside this room.”

Reva recognized the shift for what it was. Zariel going cold was not what Reva would have called a good sign, and she shifted her stance, just a bit. Defensive, of course. She wasn’t about to make any foolish charge.

“And there is more I cannot say here, that would show you the truth of my enterprise. When it’s all said and done, I am willing to negotiate disbanding the Empire and allowing the kingdoms to return to what they once were. You could be king of Ucantis, in name as well as in truth. I don’t care for any of that.”

“Pretty words, when you stand as Empress now,” Reva noted, “and when you can do nothing to prove them.”

“What would you have me do to prove them?”

Reva could say ‘make Cleon king’, but even that would take too much time, a trip back to Ucantis, where she could trick them. Reva only shook her head. “There is nothing that can be done.” That much was certain. “We have heard you. I am not certain of what you speak, for many reasons. Cleon is right. This could have ended with you. You could have done things differently.”

‘Spare me.’ Zariel resisted the urge to roll her eyes and wave that off. There were different ways. None quite so effective.

Even if it put her on the wrong side of several marked right now, she knew who they were.

“More than that, I am not certain you are Chosen by Phoenix,” although she had not forgotten what Gamesh said under his breath, “You have said Phoenix cannot bring back the dead. We have seen Phoenix’s corpse.”

The way Zariel lost color might have been gratifying, if Reva hadn’t had a level head in the moment. “Leviathan has also said nothing to me. If this has been going on for a century, why has no other marked known? Why has it only been Leander, and yourself?”

“Others have known. Ophiuchus’s agents killed them,” though the words came out by rote, rather than with any meaning. Zariel had reached up to touch her cheek, even though she couldn’t see it. The lines were smudged. The freckles, of course, weren’t.

It was real, wasn’t it?

The first shard of doubt cut; Lavi had been inordinately obsessed, and Zariel knew how easy tattoos were. What were the odds…? “Phoenix…isn’t dead, you must have just seen a large bird.”

“Leviathan confirmed that.”

Zariel shook her head. That wasn’t possible.

Reva shifted to Sesario, “I do not know if you can speak with Bahamut, or have met him. If you have, has he said anything of Ophiuchus?” A calm doubt might be the best way to end everything, perhaps?
 
Cleon struggled to make sense of Zariel. He couldn't read her or get a sense of her, other than how cold and callous she was making herself out to be. She wanted to speak with him, explain herself, and yet, there were things she refused to elaborate on, all because of her spite for one of his people. Even with just the four of them, she still held back.

She was hiding things. He knew that much, and yet, he didn't know what, with how guarded she was.

All he wanted was to return home. To simply mourn his mother, to have things be normal again, as much as they could be, even if it would only be him and Reva. But all on Zariel's terms. Terms that Cleon couldn't fully trust.

Reva's intervention had only strengthened that thought. He was beginning to make up more of his mind, that she wasn't a woman to be trusted.

And the mention of Phoenix's corpse, that changed so much.

Sesario narrowed his eyes and muttered, "Corpse?" Zariel had made no mention of it, and judging by how the colour drained from her, she had no knowledge of this either. His eyes moved between the two. Really, were either of their words true?

"We weren't the only ones to see it either," Cleon said, though, directed it to the baffled Sesario. "And I'm sure Bahamut would be able to clarify things on Phoenix too, if he had seen it. And those supposed agents too."

"Maybe," Sesario answered. 'If only.' That would make things so much easier. Bahamut had wistful nostalgia of places Sesario had reached, but never gave context too. He wondered if he remembered people from hosts he had in the past.

Too many questions, and Bahamut wouldn't answer them. What he had heard gave him a lot to think about, and just as many doubts. Reva could have said anything, just as much as Zariel could say anything she liked too. He glanced to her, just as she reached up to the mark on her cheek. The confidence she lacked suddenly was surprising. Even an Empress had her doubts.

How much of what she said was really true?

Reva turned to Sesario, asked him directly about the validity of Zariel's claims. His silence was telling, but in that silence, he used that to address Bahamut. 'Now would be a good time to confirm or deny any of this. Please?' The silence continued, both around the other three marked, and in his own head. Bahamut would not speak, even as he asked nicely. Sesario's nose wrinkled. 'Dragon bastard.' Of all the times he could have spoken, he refused to do so now, when things could be sorted here and now.

Cleon's stare had told Sesario the prince had made up his mind. His silence was too long. Anything he said would have been scrutinised, just as much as he had with Zariel. He looked back to Reva. "Bahamut speaks when he feels like it," Sesario admitted to Reva. "But I don't remember anyting about Ophiuchus being mentioned directly." He wondered if he ever had, if he had ever mentioned Ophiuchus indirectly.

"You don't know anything about Ophiuchus then," Cleon murmured, his fist clenched, taking that as the final answer. The silence had been enough for him to make up his mind, to believe Bahamut and Sesario were truly clueless. Sesario could have so confidently affirmed it before and yet, here was his answer. Surely, if it was so important, Bahamut would have mentioned it. He would have had to.

Cleon had heard enough. "It's all lies then. We can't even find a shred of truth in anything that's being said." He hissed, though, didn't seem able to bring his gaze to anyone. Was he really so easily taken for a fool? To be used as a tool by the Empire? That was all he would be if he returned to Ucantis.

Gamesh's words seemed to ring truer than ever. If things just stopped here, if he could just end things, maybe Imperialism could come crumbling down much faster than anyone could think...

It could easily be done.
 
It wasn’t quite a plea that Zariel turned on Sesario as he stayed silent under Reva’s question. She wasn’t so desperate as that, but she wasn’t familiar with feeling the floor pulled out from under her, and this felt like it had just happened. Phoenix, a corpse? Leviathan saying nothing, and of course – Bahamut added nothing.

How could they know nothing?

How could it be only Phoenix, for Zariel knew that Shiva also said nothing. Was Leander wrong? Was Phoenix wrong? ‘Then why is there an agent here?’ But how was Zariel so certain of even that?

Sesario’s answer was expected, and Zariel knew it was the honest one. She would not fault him for it, and nodded as it came, turning her attention back to Reva and Cleon. ‘Well, you have lost them.’ Then again, she was prepared for that, and as Cleon’s fist clenched and his determination showed, Zariel stoked that old fire of her own determination.

No, this wasn’t a lie.

Even if she could not explain it, even if believing any further was a fool’s venture, she knew. Just as she knew the one outside was an agent of Ophiuchus. “There is still the point of the Twelve manifesting, and if Phoenix truly is a corpse,” Zariel swallowed the world, “then that confirms there is something amiss that would require the other eleven.”

“Perhaps.” Reva was willing enough to allow her, “yet none have said anything. I am certain they will speak in due time, if there is something to be done.”

Zariel wasn’t. Her doubt in the others had intensified. “Was Leviathan aware of Phoenix’s death before this sight?”

“Ah…no.” Reva confessed, her own upper hand faltering in that.

“Then you can see they aren’t all knowing.” Zariel stated bluntly. “They may not know when the time to act would be.”

“No,” she agreed, “nor can we trust you.” Obviously, and Reva shook her head, “Whatever you have been brought up to believe, about this, about yourself, it has been built on lies, on your grandfather’s singular desire to conquer the continent. End it here. You must see the folly now.”

“I see no such thing.” Stubborn. “I see that not all of the Twelve are united or informed. That is all that I see.”

“And you would force the Twelve to bend to your will?” Reva’s brows lifted.

“If it is needed.” A damning phrase, and the one that cut through so much mess: whatever was needed, would be done. The ends justified the means, as they had in Ucantis.

There was no talking to a fanatic who thought to dictate to the gods themselves. No reasoning with one. What rationality there may have been in that moment of doubt, was gone, and Reva looked to Cleon. They should leave while they had the chance, while they had this neutral ground, and get away before Zariel could pursue.

It did not cross her mind to end things there. Some honor remained – this had been peacefully called, it could be peacefully left, just as well.
 
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Even if Zariel hadn't sounded like it, Sesario could sense her desperation to make sense of it all herself. He wanted to understand it too. Why Bahamut hadn't thought to mention any of this - if he really was the voice in his head. Perhaps he really was just as crazy as he originally thought. Anything, like Zariel, to hold onto what they knew and what they thought just had to be true.

Ah, if only these negotiations could have been simpler. Was he just as much a fool for thinking things would just work out? He couldn't explain it, but something about it all made sense. Or, at least, he was probably making it seem as if it did.

Cleon's head throbbed as much as Sesario's was. More questions than answers, more complications to something that was veiled in an attempt of conquest. They couldn't trust her. No, you couldn't trust an Imperial. Especially not the Empress. She blasphemed, refused to bend, tried to manipulate them all. How long would she keep up this ridiculous spiel for?!

As long as it took, Cleon realised. To the point she'd use every one of the Twelve, every one of them.

Sesario recognised the look in Cleon. The way he stood overwhelmed, and a man who felt slighted and wronged, was a look he had seen too often in his career. He glanced to Zariel, hissing, "Empress, easy." He could at least try and salvage some of this, right? Get them to walk away. It hadn't worked, and he tried, but they could leave it at that. Bite both of their tongues and leave.

Cleon's fist unfurled, his fingers stiff. He knew he had to say something, to look someone in the eye instead of staring at the floor like a confused boy. When he raised his head, he had the misfortune of looking at Zariel first. That resolution in her, that demand that he, Reva, Sesario, every one of the marked simply give in to her, made his blood boil. Everything he heard from her, everything he heard about her, came flooding back. The wrongs she committed, the arrogance. What gave her the right? How much more blood had to be spilled for her to get what power she so desperately craved?

"No. Never." The words were hardly a resolute rebellion that they should have been. They were barely audible, but that hadn't mattered to Cleon. In a matter of seconds following that quiet refusal, he unsheathed the sword at his waist and lunged at Zariel, wide-eyed and wild. Any voices that tried to reach him were muffled as if he had submerged himself underwater. Yet, adrenaline dictated his every move. Cleon felt out of control, and yet, completely in control. He hadn't cared. And he didn't care where the sword plunged, how it struck her, only that it did.

There was no dark power at work, no focus, or rhyme, or reason. Just an unhinged instinct.

He'd end it all here, regardless of what gods said what and to who. He'd make her understand the pain she had caused.
 
There was a part of Zariel that was aware exactly how she sounded. That this could have gone better. Yet, what could she do? If she backed down now, she lost. And she would have to return to her original plan, which would mean trusting Sesario to take her back to Rozari so they could split this peacefully. Sesario, at least, didn’t look at her like she was entirely crazy, though he heard, too.

She looked towards him as he hissed at her, wanting to snap back, but biting her tongue on it. She still had him – best not to lose him. ‘So how do I advance?’ For once, she was at a loss, because she’d been driven to see the flaws in her logic. In her plans. In everything. It wasn’t comfortable.

Where was this corpse?

Why didn’t the Twelve know?

Could she force the agent of Ophiuchus to confess?

Those thoughts took her from the fact there was an immediate threat. She presumed Cleon’s words, so quiet, were meant for Reva before she recognized the movement. Her attention snapped from Sesario, but she had not enough time, and no weapon to help. She brought her hands together and brought forth fire to create a shield of sorts, but for how Cleon seemed, it may as well have been a paper shield.

If it harmed him at all, it didn’t stop him, and Zariel felt the blade pierce through an old wound – enlarge it, to be that fatal wound Lavi had wanted to cause all those years ago. Not that Zariel recognized it as fatal immediately, and both of her hands fell to the flat sides of the blade to try and push it out.

She didn’t have the strength to.

There was no pain. Funny, what adrenaline and shock could do, though Zariel knew how serious it was as darkness crept into her vision, blurring the edges. Cleon was the only thing she could actually see, his hatred, his malice.

Well-deserved or not, it was hardly a pleasant last sight.

She wanted to find the strength to bring him down with her, but even as her hands flamed against his blade, the fire was lost, as if that spurt was the end of it. Her knees gave out. She fell forward rather than back, hands still pressed to the sides of the blade to try and balance, but all for naught.

After her knees went her arms.

Zariel tasted blood.

She heard the ruffling of other people moving, doors opening.

Sight was gone. So was sensation, for she never felt her fall from the blade to the ground.

‘…ander?’

Of course, her savior didn’t manifest out of thin air, far away in Escander, far from her side.

‘Lix….’

The voices dimmed, before they were lost in a sudden rush of blood. Was her heart still trying? Certainly Cleon had hit that…and then, there went thought, everything she was, into oblivion. No flame rose to try and cauterize the wounds.




“Cle—” and Reva stopped there, unable to finish, as the act went through far beyond her ability to stop, either Cleon, or that burst of fire from Zariel.

Reva’s jaw dropped.

Both, because Zariel had not been able to defend herself, and because Cleon had rushed and attacked her. The ramifications hit Reva all at once – a thousand and one things to consider, and the consequences were steep. True, killing the Empress was always on the table, but in peaceful negotiations? Somehow, that seemed a step far.

But then he succeeded….

Of course, the Empress was only human, but it was still quite a shock, just as it was likely to be to everyone else. She cast her eyes momentarily to Sesario, the red wide and afraid. Not afraid of him, necessarily, but not not afraid, either. This was his ground. Neutral ground. And they’d just tarnished that. Sesario wasn’t a nobody, either.

The door opened at her shout. Didymus had pushed by Hector when he heard Reva start – and now stood in the doorway, hand falling back to his side, and all color leaving him as he saw the scene. ‘Oh shit.’ They were so dead. Every single one of them. Oleander was going to go berserk. Lixue was going to go berserk, and somehow that was scarier. ‘And what if Jagger was telling the truth….’

Gamesh stepped forward as well…and he smiled. Not an unexpected reaction for a Ucantis rebel, though of course, that wasn’t the reason for the smile. ‘Night night, birdie.’ Never even got a chance to come forward this time around, and hopefully it’d be a long time before another proper Arkidos was born. They’d just have to make a point to take out any Leo Arkidos as a child from this point forward.

Hector was just starting to get off his ass from Didymus’s push, muttering about the uncouth behavior.
 
Even though Zariel had brought up a fire shield, and despite how it seared against his torso and his arms, it was almost as if he didn’t feel a thing. He felt the intense heat, yes, but was numb to the pain. Adrenaline formed its own shield in him – for now. Any chance to stop himself was well and truly gone when the sword pierced up through Zariel.

She tried to push it out, and he watched her try, and he shifted the sword in more to stop her, not that she could do much to get it back out. The reality hadn’t quite dawned on him yet. All he could do was watch her, let that hatred keep a firm hold on his blade. It had been steady, watching Zariel, waiting for some sort of sense of pride or victory to well up in him.
And yet it never came. He wanted it to come, for him to have a sense of satisfaction, and yet as she fell forward, dread crept up his back. Blood banged in his ears, louder than opening doors and hurried footsteps. Cleon pulled away, bringing his sword with him, before Zariel fell to the floor, his handiwork becoming more apparent against the floor of The Valkyrie.

The realisation finally hit him. He looked from Zariel’s body to his sword, slick with her blood, and he began shaking. He lost his grip on the sword, letting it fall to the ground with a clatter. He backed off a little, but his legs wouldn’t take him any further, as much as he was desperate for them too. He swallowed back as Sesario came into view, hovering over the body and muttering, “Oh, shit, oh, fucking Twelve…!”

Amid those arriving at the doorway and at the scene, Kikiti and Yarrow had stopped by Hector, frowning. “Sorry. He’s not normally this rude,” she apologised on Didymus’s behalf. At least she could vouch and apologise for him. She looked to him, her gaze moving further into the room. She saw Cleon’s bloody sword first.

And when her gaze moved to who was lying in front of him, she screamed, forcing herself to turn away and covering her eyes. Kikiti felt Yarrow push against her, paw at her as if to try and give her some comfort, but she was too afraid to bring her hands away from her eyes. It hadn’t been the first time she saw Cleon kill people. But they were people that attacked them, people who wanted to hurt them. She tried to get the image of that bloody sword and Zariel lying dead out of her head, but she whimpered the more that image came to mind.

Elcid made his way quickly into the room and stopped at the sight of a dead Empress on the floor. He stopped too, quite visibly shocked by the sight. Even more so at Cleon, who stood only a few meters from a quite bloody sword abandoned on the floor. He didn’t think he had it in him to harm a fly, never mind kill the Empress.

That was what made things worse. And his shock gave way to anger, the foolishness of him to do what he did! Cid moved to Cleon and grabbed him, growling, “What the hell have you done?! What the hell were you thinking?!”

Cleon’s words wouldn’t come. He felt suffocated with Elcid holding him like that, wide-eyed with terror than with hatred and malice. And when he kept looking over to Zariel, blood pooling around her, thinking what he had done her, he felt his heart pound harder. He had never wanted to run as fast and far away as he had now. Bravery and initiative had gushed away as easily as the blood did from his legs. ‘What have I done?’

“He was thinking of his home,” Gamesh told Elcid, who turned an incredulous gaze back to him, “of all the homes subjugated under the Empire’s conquest. It’s a victory against them.”

Cid let go of Cleon, who backed up to the wall, feeling himself . “We’ve all just been made accomplices in a murder. Princes and rebels and kids, and you think that’s a victory?!”

“To end almost a century of tyranny?” Gilgamesh answered back, already holding an answer for him. “I would say it is on Our Grace’s part. He did what no one else was courageous enough to do. This will inspire people. It shows Imperialism isn’t eternal.” He was proud, though, proud for all the wrong reasons. It was as he remembered Asura herself told him long, long ago; mortals are so terribly fickle. Ironic that her own host was so easily manipulated as to carry out what they intended to do themselves.

“Yeah, sure,” Sesario started, rising from Zariel’s body. “Looks real good for him in a peaceful negotiation. You think I would have brought her here if I knew something like this was going to happen?” He’d seen negotiations go wrong, but this took the top spot. He had been thinking of ways they could weasel their way out of this – how best he could get himself and Hector out of this mess. Anything but turn themselves over. They weren’t beholden to the rest of them. Only, they were, and Rosari too.

And yet, selfishly, he cared more for himself and Hector here.

The Bandoethel’s actions seemed to have more implications than they did any positives. They’d be blacklisted. Their value just increased, and all for the wrong reasons. “We can’t stay here with the Empress’s body on this bloody ship.” Where the hell would they leave it? Rozari? Amarum? In the middle of nowhere and hope that people thought Zariel just disappeared? No option seemed like a good option.
 
Hearing Sesario start to curse like that worried Hector as he got to his feet with Kikiti. They both approached the door as people entered, and the sight was not good. Hector felt his thoughts cease in utter horror, because he was as aware of the implications as Sesario was. They had created this ground. They had hosted the negotiations. ‘Yeaaaah, this ain’t good.’ How did they get out of this?

Kikiti screamed, and he turned with her, before glancing down at Yarrow. He put a hand on her back, tried to soothe her a bit by rubbing her back, “Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.” It was just Cleon who did this. Well, maybe Reva, though by the looks of it – Hector didn’t think so.

Then the reactions began in earnest, Elcid storming into the room and grabbing Cleon. Gamesh seemed to be in favor of this, and before Hector could tell him this wasn’t over, Didymus did, “Yeah, ‘cause Leander dying totally put an end to this, didn’t it? No, no, you know what’s next? Emperor fucking Oleander Arkidos.” Nowhere near as competent, but not in a way that meant the Empire would be overturned.

In a way that meant his wars would be bloodier.

Especially now.

Zariel had a touch of mercy. Oleander wasn’t likely to, even if Jagger could vouch for him as a drinking partner. “Listen, it was nice – I gotta get to my sister.” He didn’t forget his lie even in the moment, and walked out of the room to leave. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew, right then, he didn’t want to be a part of it. He should get out now, and…what?

‘Jagger can help cover my ass. Somehow.’

He was never here. Totally, not here.

Reva didn’t have time to deal with Didymus walking out.

She went to Cleon and Elcid, and put a firm hand on Cleon’s shoulder, and a sterner glare at Elcid to get him to lay off. “No, we know you would not have,” Reva was speaking to Sesario. How to clear it up? How to deal with Oleander, and the Empire, on the whole. “This is the situation. Killing the Empress was always an option, after all she has done. We are willing to deny that we were ever here,” she cast a glance towards Sesario, “Assuming no one knows she was last with you?”

That was debatable, and Reva didn’t know the answer.

Hector glanced to Sesario, “You, uh, you did kidnap her. Kind of. No one knows, right?” They could get out of this. They could get out of this! Though the blood might be hard to get out of the lounge, Hector could clean it up.

Never mind that the Empress was last seen in his home.

Gamesh was the one to growl out a, “Coward. This is a good way to show the Empire not to mess with Rozari,” a glance to Sesario.

“A good way to invoke their wrath.” Hector snapped, “Look, we can do that. You nobles go wandering about on your own, anything could happen – and we had nothing to do with it. Right, Ses?” They still had to figure out where to put the body, or to hand it over, or whatever – but they could wash their hands of it.

‘Please, Ses.’

Though, he supposed…that still condemned Kikiti, didn’t it? He looked back to her, wanting to think of a way to bring her into this, not considering her ties with Didymus or whether or not she would have followed that traitor to talk him back into the mess.
 
Kikiti wished she could have believed Hector, as much as she appreciated his kind gesture. She was about to be caught up more in a world of problems, all because she wanted to help a few people. Didymus pointing out that this was far from over didn’t help matters. He was right. The Empire wouldn’t forgive such an action, and it couldn’t just crumble so easily, right?

Didymus knew that. And it was no doubt what prompted him to walk out, to go and find Jagger. Kikiti understood it, wholeheartedly. She wanted to return to her own family. Yet, she felt her legs moving, calling, “W-wait, Diddy!” She followed after him, trying to wipe away the tear tracks on her cheeks. “Y-you’re not really going…?” A silly question almost crossed her lips. Wouldn’t anyone want to leave in this situation? “Going alone?”

Sesario watched Reva step to the prince in defence, and a glare that made even Cid understand and back off. He always did like a certain feistiness in...

Ach, no. Definitely not the time.

Sesario clicked his tongue to both questions posed to him by Reva and Hector. This was where things got messier. “The kidnapping took an…interesting turn,” he sniffed, rubbing his nose. “Less of a kidnapping, more of a dubiously consensual…walk-out. I can’t guarantee no one saw something. ”

Cid narrowed his eyes, the situation just reaching bizarre new heights. “You didn’t even kidnap her right?”

“You ever try kidnapping a highly secured Empress?”

“No, but smuggling and kidnapping cross over enough for me to understand how it should work,” Cid grumbled, scratching his jaw. He wondered again if there was any sense behind a pretty face like his.

Sesario agreed with Hector – it was a perfectly good excuse for the Empire to do what they no doubt planned to do before Zariel’s scheme of marriage. It would make no difference either way, only that those who remained behind in Rosari suffered the consequences, while he ran for the hills.
It was easier that way, to not take responsibility. It was him and Hector, only him and Hector, as it always had been, and he didn’t intend for that to change.

He nodded. “Right. We stay out of major politics for a reason.” Lesser politics was a different matter, the kind of petty squabbles and dealings no one batted their eyes at. This kind was simply too much. “We get our stories straight, go our separate ways, and I’ll forgive you making a mess here.” Harsh, but he wanted to wipe his hands clean of it just as much as Hector did. Unfortunate, especially for Zariel, but the prince had made his bed.

And yet, somehow, when he looked at him, he couldn’t help but feel at least some empathy for him. Fear drove men to do strange and sometimes horrendous things.

Gamesh shook his head, tutting. “To think this all could have been a united effort…” Though, he knew he would never get a chance like this again. So many marked in the one room. He had the chance to finish them off too. Though, instead, he walked over to Zariel’s corpse, trying not to let that giddy feeling of victory show quite so much. “Regardless, the Empress is finally dead. Morale will be shaken and their efforts will be concentrated on reshuffling power. This is only the beginning of great change, whether you all see it or not.” Gilgamesh insisted.

Yes, of course. The first of many Zodiac deaths.

Reva’s presence should have been a comfort to Cleon, and yet, he still felt ashamed, angered, terrified, of all that had just happened. Perhaps it should have been a victory, yet, it fell far short of it. So many times he had tried to find the words and again, they stayed buried deep inside of him. He couldn’t look to Gamesh and share his enthusiasm. He couldn’t look to Sesario, or Hector, nor Kikiti or Didymus, whom he had heard snippets from.

‘I want to go home.’ Cleon thought. That was all he really wanted.
 
Sesario seemed willing to accept ‘getting stories straight’ that would leave him out of this. Reva couldn’t say she was surprised, but she buried any bristling irritation. That was how it needed to be; they had inflicted this situation upon Sesario without asking. He didn’t deserve to suffer the consequences for trying to do something peaceful.

Reva glanced back to Cleon, expecting him to begin the ‘story’ thing. Reva didn’t want to say he’d claim responsibility if he didn’t…but he remained silent, as others around spoke about the situation that led to the likelihood of the Empress being last seen with Sesario, and Reva sighed.

She felt a chill run through her.

‘No. It is colder.’ Not a mere chill, and she began to see it in the others. Hector had folded his arms over himself, after looking back to the group, realizing Kikiti had gone off. Gamesh also seemed to close in a bit on himself, though perhaps not so obviously as Hector. A small warning went off in the back of Reva’s head.

There was a new scent in the air, not quite Mist, but not not Mist, either.

She tried to disregard it. No one else was responding to it. “If you were seen with Zariel, you will need to decide where paths split. And for what reason. Best if it not be to violence and you ran away.” Reva suggested to Sesario, to begin this negotiation of stories. She swallowed, acting on that gnawing sensation, “Perhaps we should discuss in more…amiable quarters.”

The scent was all but choking her, yet Hector couldn’t smell it. Hector didn’t acknowledge the cold as anything but a chill over what had happened here, either. “What, it’s not proper to talk about a cover-up at the scene of the crime?” He was a little petulant. He was in this mess, after all, and so was Sesario.

The only other who sensed something amiss was Enkidu. He was whimpering and pawing at Gilgamesh’s legs. “Shhh, it’s okay.” Enkidu was overreacting. Gilgamesh could sense the shift, but he’d noticed this with the passing of other marked, too. Perhaps not the chill, but that scent when the Zodiac, too, had to move on and separate.

~***~

Only a little further in the ship, closer to the exit but not quite there, Didymus paused as he heard Kikiti calling after him. He looked back to her and her eyes full of tears. Yarrow, of course, was at her heels, and he sighed at her question. He didn’t want to leave her, but Cleon had dug his own grave, and Didymus wanted no part of it.

He shouldn’t abandon Kikiti, though.

She didn’t deserve this, either.

“I guess I could make a stop in Ucantis,” Didymus said, his way of suggesting that Kikiti should join him. They could run away from this together. He didn’t think Reva or Cleon were cruel enough to implicate either of them. “Though, you might want to come see Escander with me.”

She might want to hear what Jagger had to say, now that they couldn’t hear it from the Empress. A way to understand why this would continue – even if the reason was obvious in itself, in Zariel’s death.

He was blissfully unaware to the Prince trying to weasel out of any blame.

Not that Didymus would fault him for that.
 
Much of the mood in the room was somber, understandably so. No one wanted to step up first to discuss what their sides of the stories would be, how they would cover up this travesty.

Sesario hated to admit that Reva’s suggestion might have been one of the best ways to handle his side of the cover-ups. Running away could make things messy, and yet, it was such an easy thing to do. “Yeah. Good point,” he murmured, at least being cooperative. He was about to express his understanding of Reva talking over a dead body, had a familiar voice not returned.

‘Leave the body.’

The voice returned, and Sesario had to hold back a scowl at the order he was being given, after he had asked for him earlier. He wondered why he should have had any reason to listen to him now, until he realised something...different with that voice. Less...aloof.

Sesario glanced to the body, to Reva’s growing discomfort standing there. Even the dog was agitated, pawing at the stranger. There was a feeling he couldn’t quite pin down, especially with that vague warning, but this hadn’t been the first time he listened to ‘his gut instinct’ when he directed him on something.

Cleon had been caught in his own head, playing around with the same ideas of what he would do, when he too noticed Reva’s growing discomfort. He stepped forward, concerned, before he managed to find his own quiet voice again and suggested, “I think we should step outside.”

Sesario nodded, agreeing, glad Cleon had seconded Reva’s suggestion. He’d follow through on Bahamut’s direction. It worked out most of the time. “Sure. It’s not exactly comfortable talking over a dead body, is it?” He moved forward. “We’ll get our heads cleared before we go any further.”

Cid raised an eyebrow, though, did turn as if to follow. “And just leave her body?”

Sesario looked over his shoulder at him. “It’s not as if she’s going anywhere, is she?”

~***~

Kikiti waited for Didymus’s answer, and at first, she wasn’t sure what it would be. He seemed determined to make his own way from here, understandably with what Cleon had done. She doubted anyone wanted to be part of this. Kikiti similarly wanted to get away from it all.

But to leave him and Reva behind?

That was what Didymus had suggested. Her face softened at the mention of Ucantis. If she made her way out of this now, maybe she could return home with no problems. The Empire didn’t know her, right? And they’d hardly pick her out from the sea of Lalafell in Ucantis’s nooks. It could be so easy to go home again.

Kikiti couldn’t help but hazard a look back to the doorway, hearing Reva and Sesario speak. Leaving them behind to deal with this seemed wrong, especially after all they had been through together. But it wasn’t her fault it had happened. Was it? She just suggested kidnapping the Empress, and not even seriously, and yet, look what happened.

Though, Kikiti did blink at his mention that they also go elsewhere. “Escander? But...why Escander?” She asked before she remembered he and Jagger were from Escander. His sister must have returned home already from when they last met. Though, she was sure Didymus would have mentioned her returning home safely. She shuffled on her feet, unsure. The suggestion felt so odd to her when she could have just stayed in Ucantis as soon as she returned.
 
Hector scowled at Sesario when he agreed to move along with the others. He wanted them to suffer, but he supposed it really wasn’t comfortable talking over a body, and so he wouldn’t press it. He didn’t get the sense that the others did. “Fiiiine, there’s plenty of room, I guess.” Hector grumbled.

Reva gave an appreciative nod, and to Elcid, echoed, “We do not yet know what we are…doing…with the body. It will keep.” It wouldn’t decay that rapidly. The dog charged ahead, rushing to the door and barking at Gamesh to keep up.

Gamesh would still trail, letting the others go out first, and debating if he could find a way to start turning them on each other in this conversation about stories and keeping things straight. It couldn’t be that difficult, except perhaps for the fact Virgo was there. Usually very good at details, and also quite practical.

Frustratingly so.

And with Cancer so shaken up, it might be hard to get emotions too high. ‘Well, there will be other opportunities.’ And the focus should fall back on Amarum, no doubt. If he could keep them all turned against Oleander, that would be for the best.



Didymus and Kikiti weren’t far enough away that they were unaware of the exodus. Didymus took note of it as Kikiti asked about Escander, and shook his head, “I can tell you on the way,” he offered, rather than answer right there. “Heading to Escander should bring us through Ucantis anyways, so….”

So she could decide, easily enough.

He shut his mouth as Cleon and the others began to exit the room. Reva fixed him with a look, “I thought you were leaving?”

“I am,” he said, “I was just talking with Kikiti.”

“Going to go running back to the Empire now that your master’s dead to beg for scraps?” Hector finally snapped at him, and Didymus went scarlet under the accusation. What was he supposed to say to that?

He never thought he’d have an explosion to thank for getting him out of answering immediately.

~***~

Oblivion.

Zariel became aware of it in an instant, something no mind was meant to comprehend, nor experience, by default. It could not be experienced, for to do so, meant it wasn’t an endless nothingness. Yet, Zariel held a clear memory of it, all the same, as she became aware first of darkness, and then golden lights.

A dream?

The afterlife?

Zariel couldn’t say for certain, except that she was able to step forward and reach out a hand to catch one of the golden lights. Only on catching it, did she realize it was a golden feather – soft, softer than anything she’d ever felt. It had its own light, not reflecting anything else.

“Arise, O Empress.”

Zariel glanced up. The voice was all around her, a melodious tenor that she knew, although she had never heard it.

“Arise, Leo.”

The area was bright with those golden feathers, though no source could be seen. Still, it seemed somewhere above. Weight – the sensation of weight and pressure returned at once, and Zariel felt then as if she were underwater, without the muffling effect of sound. She could taste something metallic on her tongue.

There was a pain in her chest that the pressure exacerbated.

“We sleep no longer.”

Her hand closed over the feather. It brightened in the darkness, and when she looked down, she was caught up by that bright light.

Her gasp was both in the in-between, and reality.

The fire that engulfed her was just as real in both – and in reality, it spread far quicker, shattering the alcohol, and destroying anything that wasn’t metal in its path…and damaging the metal, too. Yet, it wasn’t hot – white though it was, and tinged with the holy flame of Phoenix, it was painfully cold, a sudden snap of it – and then it was gone, but not without severe damage to the Valkyrie. Cold had a way of making things suddenly brittle, making them bend and twist, and that could be heard like a screech.

Hector had to cover his ears.

Only Zariel didn’t retain consciousness beyond that gasp and the sight of the flame rushing around her. Memories flooded her and crashed her straight back down into a blackout as her mind fought to cope. What rose from the floor was, instead, Phoenix embodied, flaming wings pouring out of Zariel’s back like rushing water, and eyes truly gold, and literally glowing with that inner flame.
 
Kikiti pouted, wondering why Didymus couldn’t just explain to her now why they would take a trip to Ucantis. Though, he fell silent as Cleon and the others had moved out of the room. She just nodded, acknowledging Didymus’ proposal, and his statement that the two of them were talking.

Cleon remembered Didymus and Kikiti were just another pair of souls caught up in this horrible mess. He had his doubts about involving her in all of this before, and now with what had happened, he doubted the two of them wanted to stay involved. Didymus especially, seeing how Reva mentioned his departure. He wouldn’t have blamed him, or Kikiti for that matter, if they wanted to leave.

Then came the damning accusation made by Hector. Cleon wasn’t sure if he heard him right, while the colour drained from Kikiti’s face. Sesario had looked back to Hector, about to tell him now really wasn’t the time for such a reveal, all the while with Enkidu’s barking getting more frequent.

He saw Gamesh pause further in the lounge, turn, before the eerily bright explosion engulf the majority of the ship.

Naturally, people went for cover - Cleon shielded his eyes from the blinding light, Kikiti shrieked and backed off, while Sesario and Elcid had to cover their heads.

In amongst the chaos that occurred, when Cleon had hazarded a look after the flood of light, he froze at who had risen to her feet. “No...” He murmured, his eyes glued to the flaming wings, those golden eyes. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified. It was an almost holy sight, and yet, even the holiest of things could drive fear into a man’s heart.

This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. He killed her, didn’t he? He watched her die right in front of him.

Not unless she really was marked, that her Zodiac was truly alive. But how, if Phoenix was nothing but a corpse?

Others had turned to who stood in amongst the debris and decimation in The Valkyrie. Kikiti was equally as terrified. Cid hadn’t quite believed what he was witnessing.

Sesario wondered whether He knew when he warned him of this.

If screeching of bending metal hadn’t caused enough of a headache, a myriad of lights and warning sounds blared overhead in the ship. Sesario cursed. There was no way this ship would hold, not with the engines and the structure already so heavily compromised. Staying and questioning a risen Zariel certainly wasn’t an option. He moved towards the door, working at getting it open before he shouted, “Everyone out, now!”

Cid didn’t need to be told twice. “Get moving!” He urged, pushing the frozen Cleon forward. He watched Cleon focus on Zariel for longer, before he pulled his eyes away from Zariel and moved towards the door, continuing their previously planned exodus, only, with more urgency than before.

Sesario was the one to stay behind for most of the others to follow suit and get the hell out of there. Most of them had filed out, bar Gamesh and his mutt. Surely the two of them couldn't have survived such a blast.

Dead or alive, Sesario wasn’t going back in for him.‘Good riddance,’ he thought, before he too made his way out. He wished he could have gone down with it, as he always said he would in an ideal world. He could imagine Bahamut - and by extension, Zariel - wouldn’t be so pleased about that.
 
Didymus had dove for protection and covered his head. He didn’t need much of it, thankfully. The white flame was tame further from its origin, and the chill didn’t have the same impact on him as it did the ship. Yet, he still felt it, and sensed the pricking of pain at the end of his nerves. It still hurt, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Zariel standing amidst the dying light and the flames.

Suddenly, he understood how Leander had taken the continent by storm. Awe turned to terror rapidly, and Didymus sought Kikiti’s arm as Sesario reacted fast and opened the way out. He didn’t bother to warn her before he was pulling her out with him, and making a break for it, Yarrow trying desperately to keep up.

The poor carbuncle was tired; he’d done his best to create a shield, belated though it was.

Reva was out behind Cleon, and Hector stayed only long enough to make sure Sesario was going to follow him – there was no order to the running, but they all seemed willing to stick together, and get far the hell away from the ship.

Hector still shot a glance backwards towards it, a low moan building in his throat that he had to quash. ‘We’ll come back for you.’ He knew Sesario wouldn’t let it go easily, but they couldn’t come back if they were dead.

Didymus had taken the lead – the wind was at his back in a way he didn’t recognize as unnatural, and seemed willing enough to aide Kikiti along. He didn’t bother to look back at the others, or consider their fates. He bolted right into the nearest cover – a forest that no doubt the monarchs went hunting in now and then, and continued, until he was certain he could take a moment to catch his breath. He dropped all the way to his knees then, panting hard, quite certain he’d never run so fast.

“Wha—what?” Not that anyone was going to have an answer as they began to reach him, and stop around him. He could only hope Hector’s comment about his treachery was forgotten in the chaotic moment that this was. “She was – she was dead – right?” Did they overreact?

“Leviathan says…Leviathan says yes.”

And Leviathan said that was the greatest tragedy of all, although Reva did not understand, and did not dare to summon Leviathan. He would draw attention, even if he could weave his body between the trees.

~***~

Gilgamesh was not dead – although he was not uninjured. The human masquerade fell, revealing the nomad garbed in red, with multiple weapons across his back, and more than a single pair of arms to wield them. Enkidu’s size also grew, but poor Enkidu was absolutely dead.

Gilgamesh struggled to get to his feet, tossed against the wall by that initial force of the flare. He struggled to reach for his imitation of the Severance, as Phoenix stepped towards him, not concerning himself with the fleeing marked.

“Hello, old friend.” Phoenix addressed, the melody flowing in every word, smoke exhaled, as a white fireball appeared in one hand. “Give Ophiuchus my regards.” Before Gilgamesh could try even a half-assed charge, now that he was on his feet, the flames engulfed him entirely, a white-hot fire that made it feel like he was freezing on the outside, and boiling on the inside. A terrible agony he would take with him as his form simply evaporated.

Only then, did Phoenix consider their environment, and those who had fled.

Zariel’s memories were slowly melding into his own. Just as his would meld into hers. It was an uncomfortable process for both parties, but Phoenix did his best to sift through for relevance.

The ship belonged to Sagittarius. Well, it would be taken. Bait. Dragged back to Amarum. He wasn’t in Amarum – no – Rozari. The last. Interesting.

Time to put on a show, then. Rozari would fall that night.

Phoenix made it a few more steps, before crumpling to the ground, several curses in a far-from human language escaping Zariel’s lips. The pain of the wound was still there, the general weakness of blood, too. Not to mention the mana being burned every second. It was always an adaptation.

After a few seconds, Phoenix got back up.

The wings faded.

“Zariel.”

As he walked, he felt the stir of his new, constant companion.

“We have much to do, Zariel.”

His presence drew back, and Zariel came forward, standing outside of the ship, swaying a bit as the cold breeze touched her. The smoke-breath became steam.

“Rozari will fall tonight.”

A performer of sorts as a politician, Zariel understood, seeing the images flash in her mind’s eye. People would fall to their knees at the sight of one of the Twelve – and given the context of her ties to it…yes, Rozari would fall, or the Kavalieris would die. They’d understand that well.

And yet….

“Yes. It will weaken you dramatically to part with me.”

Already the plan was forming to deal with it, and to return to Ucantis. Lixue…Lixue could help figure out how to mitigate the impact of this thing Zariel was only grasping through memories that belonged to Leander, the shared link embedded in this mess.

And so, Zariel drew on the flame – more, and more – until she could draw out the life of Fire itself, and watched Phoenix take form before her, burning through her energy quicker by not attaching himself to her. Yet, she disregarded it. She had been through worse – she had just died, after all.

And oblivion….

She refused to dwell on the eternal second.

She simply stepped up onto Phoenix’s back, and let the bird fly back towards the Rozari capital, where the soldiers of Amarum, lost with her sudden disappearance, would have reason to rejoice at the sight of the long-awaited Phoenix.
 
Sesario followed after Hector, knowing all those he wanted out of the ship were out. He saw Hector take a glance back at The Valkyrie, and he too cast a longing look back. Their pride and joy. Sesario was with that thing as nearly as long as he had lived in Rozari. All that hard work and effort, and the money, and those goddamn paintings he spent a fortune on.

‘Fuck Phoenix,’ he thought spitefully. He had no qualms of doing it when he cursed the Twelve with Bahamut present for long enough.

Kikiti’s legs could only carry her so far and so fast, but Didymus had at least kept her up to speed. She wasn’t sure if that was a comfort or not. But why? What was it that Hector had said before the explosion? Her mind had been running with her, several miles a minute, and she struggled to piece together or comprehend what had been happened.

The adrenaline had never left Cleon. It was still riding a high tide in his body, and that made him run all the faster. All he could think of was running, his mind not even slowing down to comprehend what happened, not until all of them would stumble into the forest for cover.

Leviathan would confirm their worst fears. Zariel had been dead. But he couldn’t comprehend how she didn’t stay dead. The pieces wouldn’t click for him, not yet, not in the moment. For now, all he and his companions could do was watch the tremendous creature that was Phoenix appear. Cleon was sure they would have followed them, but instead, they went in the entirely opposite direction.

Were they safe?

Kikiti watched Zariel and Phoenix fly away, nervously asking, “Where are they going?”

“Back to Rozari,” Sesario murmured as he realised, watching Zariel and the flaming bird depart. “She’ll start rallying her soldiers, I’m sure.” But what did it all mean for Rozari, given his involvement? He had only tried to vouch for some agreement between two nations, maybe the only significant thing he had done regarding politics here.

As did his parents, he supposed, when they struck that deal with Zariel. He didn’t want to think about that.

“We need to start putting distance between us and them,” Cid declared, voicing another thought that Sesario would have eventually come up with. “If they get their hands on us, we’ll be put down like dogs.”

Cleon swallowed back. He couldn’t discount even the marked in that regard. Could someone really hold that kind of power? Could any of them compare to it? He looked to Sesario, asking, “Where can we go from here?”

Sesario glanced to him, then around him, clicking his tongue. “Too risky going into any nearby towns. There’s a set of swamps south of here. Difficult to navigate, but there’s less chance of being followed directly if we go through there.”

Cleon nodded. They needed time. He needed time, most importantly to think. Those swamps could buy them that time. “There’s nowhere else for us to go,” he resolved. And that scared him.

~***~

Some distance away, at the base of a hollowed out tree, a girl stashed away the day’s spoils - a pair of glasses with one cracked lens. People who crossed through the Nectar Swamps often dropped things on their way out - whether by sheer clumsiness or fright at the denizens. She always marvelled at the things humans dropped, for she never saw such things in her home.

Oma leaned back on her heels, smiling at her little hovel. Above her an Iguion lay on one of the hollowed tree’s branches, snoring. A Silver Lobo paced nearby, sniffing the ground. Both seemed relaxed at the half-dressed girl’s presence.

The relaxation disappeared as a loud bang echoed. The Silver Lobo’s head shot up, growled at the sudden sound, and the Iguion startled itself awake. The sound hadn’t gone unnoticed by Oma either, who paused, trying to place where the noise came from. Plenty in the Nectar Swamps began to sound with squeals, barks, croaks, the peace of their home shattered.

Oma moved to the tree, grabbing vines to help hoist herself up the trunk, past glowing golden spores that lingered in the air. She ignored the Iguion had risen to its feet and watched her climb up. She reached the top, pushing herself up through the foliage and searching for the source of the noise. She saw something large go up in flames in the distance, though, struggled to make out what it was. Though, what did catch her attention was the brilliant light that flew across the sky.

“Fire...” Oma mused, eyes stuck on the flames that danced across the night sky. Though, she cocked her head when she recognised the shape. “Bird?” She never thought she would ever see a fire bird. She watched it fly further and further away, before it was nothing more than a faint red spec in the distance.

The more Oma thought about it, maybe that was what caused the big explosion.

Oma ducked back into the foliage of the trees, moving down on the same vine she used to travel up. Once again, the Iguion watched her, and the Silver Lobo similarly turned its attention to her, as if to ask what she saw. She grunted at them, signalling them to be on their way, before she too went on her way.

She was sure Titania would want to hear all about the fire bird.
 
It never came up.

Didymus could mask his elation easily as everyone was distracted by the literally revived Zariel. Whatever that meant for the future, was a problem for later. The important thing was to put distance between them, and he chimed in, “A swamp should help to mislead the dogs,” he added, “The Empire does like to use those. Water always helps mess up tracks of all sorts.”

Reva accepted it with a hum, “I know where we can go,” she took a breath, “my home is some distance, but it will be…safe. We can consider what to do there,” she looked a bit mournfully at Sesario and Hector, “We are sorry to involve you in this.”

Hector frowned, clearly not fully accepting the apology, “You can pay us back with airship repairs.” Although getting the airship might be tricky, he hoped Sesario’s parents would just take it back into the Rozari hangar and they could pick it up later. Whatever happened…he hoped Sesario’s parents wouldn’t suffer.

There wasn’t anything they could do right now. “Does someone want to explain why a literal member of the Twelve is here, and what’s going on, on the walk, maybe?”

Didymus decided to answer, since it might clear the air with Hector and make him forget to mention anything again, “So, yeah – the Empress is hunting down people with marks resembling the Twelve Constellations. Like Cleon,” he thumbed back to him, “and those with the marks can apparently call on the Twelve, like she just did.”

‘Because there’s a world eating serpent or something and damnit I need to talk to Jagger.’

“I guess we really can’t head to Escander, huh?”

Reva was the one to shake her head, and begin heading forward. She didn’t need to be pointed towards the swamps. Everything in the woods told her enough to get her in that direction. Just as it would lead her back home….

Hector wrinkled his nose, but didn’t answer. He didn’t want to go to Escander. He didn’t know why Didymus wanted to go to Escander, but it couldn’t be for anything good. “You realize everything is going to get worse for outsiders in Imperial run territories now, right?”

“Yeah, I’m from them, I know how significant this is.” Didymus rolled his eyes. “The prodigal daughter has the Phoenix at last – huge morale boost.”
 
Cleon glanced to Reva at the mention of her home. He had remembered on occasion being told not to mention it as curious as he was to learn more about it. To think they might be able to reach there and see her home...

The mention of Reva’s home had piqued some interest from Sesario, though, had little time to think on it when she apologised to them. ‘I’m sorry I got involved,’ Sesario was tempted to say. Much like Hector, his mind moved back to his parents; his mother most of all. If anything, she was the one he was the most sorry for putting through all of this.

Trying to put the thought out of his mind, knowing dwelling on it did no good, responded after Hector, “That would be nice. And at least it’s not the whole ship. That’s more than Rozari and Ucantis’s coffers put together.” A slight exaggeration. But if you accounted for the ship itself, and the things inside it, it racked up quite the cost.

Most would start to move forward as they began to make sense about the situation. Cid’s eyes moved to Cleon’s right hand, noting the ‘mark’ in reference. It looked exactly the same as that mark on the Empress’s cheek, bar the fancy cosmetics to highlight it. His old friend had raved about it, but Cid hadn’t thought anything beyond it being a strange birthmark. Cleon Sr. and Inara’s son had been born a sickly child, and grief took the mind to strange places.

Cid still wasn’t sure what to believe, not even after Phoenix’s appearance. Though, he couldn’t deny that Zariel had been dead, and she rose again as if it were nothing. Things like that couldn’t be passed off as mere trickery.

He heard Escander pop up. “Getting into Escander would be a nightmare anyway. I heard from a contact they have new identification systems in place.”

“Yeah,” Sesario grumbled, “Hector and I have seen it first hand. Apparently, it’s to reduce crime rates in Escander and do regular checks on people. I can’t say that’s the whole story as to why the Empire implemented them.” Given Zariel’s determination to find the marked, of course. Faking IDs and documentation surely wasn’t off the cards, right? But he had a feeling the Empire wouldn’t just let something like that slide by them.

Conversation turned to what Phoenix’s rising meant for territories under Imperial rule. Kikiti frowned, glancing back at them with a major discomfort. “What do you think will happen to Ucantis?”

Cleon bristled at Kikiti’s question and he could feel his heart sinking at the same time. “I...don’t know,” he said quietly, but his tone indicated he knew exactly what could happen. They wouldn’t be the only ones to suffer for what he did. If Kikiti knew the same, she didn’t show it. But her silence was just as telling.

He understood just what he did, what would now come of it. He thought he had solved it all in that moment of hazed rage, only, to make things so much worse. But apologising to them all here felt pathetic, given there was nothing he could do to change things now.
 
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