Cecil cursed quietly when he heard what the twins had to say. The three of them stood in an unused side chamber. Once, it had been a storage room. Now, it was an almost forgotten attachment to a nearly unused upper hall. Dust covered the few remaining objects in the room, and the odor was too hideous to describe. It was the perfect place for a private conversation.
"These auras you saw...do they show what will happen or only what might?"
Porom shrugged. "I don’t know. I don’t know when or why or how. I just know who and what. And even that isn’t very clear."
Cecil was pacing rapidly. He didn’t like the sound of this. Didn’t like it at all.
"Damn," was all he could think of to say. Then: "All right. We know that something’s going to happen, and if you’re seeing things again it probably means soon. Don’t tell Edge or Rydia or Caitlin herself about this. In fact, don’t tell anybody. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here, so we can’t do anything except stay alert. No need to worry anyone else."
"It’s my fault it’s come to this," Porom said. "I should’ve said something when I first saw it."
"No. You were right to keep it to yourself. There’s nothing any of us could have done, and all you would have done is have everyone tense as cats for the past nine years. Not to mention the fact that Edge and Rydia certainly wouldn’t have thanked you."
Porom sighed. "I see your point, I guess. But that doesn’t make me feel any better about it."
"Didn’t expect it to. Palom, you keep an eye...or an ear or whatever it is you use on the mood around here. I want to know when something’s coming."
Palom nodded.
"Good. Now let’s go get something to eat. We’re not accomplishing anything here in this discarded broom closet."
No one had anything to say to that.
Breakfast was rather quiet that morning. Normally, it was hard to be heard over the noise of the various conversations between guards and watchmen and Cid’s engineers and the other denizens of castle Baron. But this time it was almost hushed. Cecil wondered if it meant anything, but pushed the idea out of his mind.
"Are you all right?" Vashin asked from across the high table. The court caller was a youngish man, tall and a little overweight. Cecil liked him; he was open and friendly, and never missed a chance for a joke or a story. His father had fought in the Second Crystal War, and afterward, the custom of having a court caller had begun, in order to avoid the difficulty of communication that had nearly caused the loss of Fabul, back then. But Vashin was a friend more than a functionary.
I’m fine, Vashin," Cecil said, "Just a bit tired is all. I didn’t sleep well last night."
"Wake up fast, then, Cecil," Vashin said with just a hint of a smile. "The Elder arrives by airship today."
Cecil sat back in his chair. "Damn, you’re right, I’d forgotten. How long before they arrive?"
"Mmm...actually, they already did. About five minutes ago, in fact." The young man chuckled at the expression of near panic on Cecil’s face. "Don’t worry about it, I took care of it. The reception’s already in progress, and the elder thinks you’re out. You’re not due to arrive for another twenty minutes or so."
Cecil couldn’t help but laugh. "How did you manage that?" He asked.
"I have my ways," Vashin said with a mysterious air that was completely ruined by his wide grin. "Anyway, you’d better hurry up. Twenty minutes isn’t all that long."
"No breakfast for me, then," Cecil said with a resigned sigh. "I hope this doesn’t take too long, I’d like to-"
A sudden roar cut him off.
"Airships?" he muttered. "I didn’t know there was anything going out this morning...."
"Cid could be testing the engines...or something...." Vashin hazarded.
"Six at once?" Cecil asked. "There’s at least that many."
"How can you tell?"
"I used to captain the Red Wings, back before the wars. Believe me, I can tell." Cecil thought a moment. "I don’t like this...go get Kain for me, and tell him to meet me down in the yard."
"Okay, if you say so..." Vashin said dubiously. "I think you’re a bit too worried, though."
No, I’m not, Cecil thought. Anything out of the ordinary could be related to Porom’s visions. One thing you’ll learn, Vashin, if you’re ever unlucky enough to live through what I’ve had to live through. The unexpected is usually dangerous
No time of peace, nor increasing age, would ever make the old Paladin forget that. It might be paranoid, but it had kept him alive on more than one occasion.
"Just go get him, Vashin," was all Cecil said. "I’d rather not take chances."
"All right." Vashin said, and left.
Meanwhile the conversation had picked up in the dining hall. Apparently no one was sure what was going on. Not a good sign.
Cecil stalked off. This was the sort of situation he had always hoped he would never have to face again. There wasn’t yet any reason to believe that something was wrong, but Cecil knew. He knew. Stone walls passed to each side of him, but he didn’t see them. Wrapped in his own thoughts, he didn’t notice when Kain and Vashin joined him on the way down. He also didn’t notice when the roar of ship engines began to fade as if going off into the distance. But the others did.
"Unless I’m mistaken, those ships just took off," Kain said worriedly.
So I’m not the only one, he’s worried too... Cecil reflected. Then what Kain said caught up with him. "What?"
"Listen."
Cecil listened.
"Damn, that shouldn’t be happening," he muttered. "Come on, we’d better hurry. Something’s seriously wrong here." They broke out into a trot and finally emerged at the rear of the castle, near the shipyards.
And halted in shock. "Damn..." Vashin murmured. "What the hell happened?"
The three of them were quite thoroughly entreated to a scene of carnage. Engineers dead or wounded. The guards, normally on duty twenty four hours a day, had been slaughtered. Blood stained the ground. Those ships that remained, only about a third of what ought to have been there, had suffered various degrees of damage. Whatever had been done here, had been done ruthlessly and efficiently, with absolute coordination. Cecil didn't want to think of how they'd gotten past the dragoons guarding the interior of each ship.
A thought struck him. "Cid! Where the hell is Cid?"
A quick search of the remaining ships found him trapped under a fallen beam.
"Took you long enough," he grunted when he saw them, face contorted in pain. "Can you get this thing off me? It hurts like hell."
"What happened here?" Kain asked in a dark voice as he and Cecil prepared to lift the beam.
"I have no clue what so ever," Cid replied. "At least, I don't know what prompted it. But as to who did it..." he trailed off.
"Who?" Kain asked.
"My own men," he said, a bitter undertone breaking through the pained voice. "Just stopped working, drew daggers, and stabbed everyone nearby. The dragoons and regulars first. Then they fought their way to the ships and took off all at once. We had no warning at all. Now hurry up and get rid of this."
The two of them heaved the beam off his leg. It clattered to one side. A look at his leg told them it was quite thoroughly broken.
"Better have Rosa deal with that," Cecil muttered. "Vashin?" No answer. "Vashin?" Still no answer. Cecil turned around. Vashin stood at the ship's portside door, doing nothing. Cecil moved up next to him and shook his shoulder. "Vashin?"
The young man started suddenly and turned around. "Oh! I'm sorry. What is it?" He looked a little wild around the eyes.
"You all right?" Cecil asked.
"Sorry, I...I've just never seen anything like this before. It's...it's unnerving."
Cecil nodded. He understood. "Cid has a broken leg and probably several internal injuries. Go get Rosa, okay?"
"R...Right." Vashin left at a slightly faster pace than was really necessary, but Cecil couldn't blame him. He went back inside.
"Damn it, Cid, there's no way you can possibly walk with your leg like that, so stop trying to get up." Kain's voice came out with a slight edge of command.
"Oh, shut up." Cid replied grumpily. "I'm perfectly fine and you know it, so stop holding me down."
"He's right, Cid," Cecil said. "Just sit tight, Rosa'll be here in a minute."
"How much did they get?" Cid demanded. "How many of my ships did those heaven-cursed chocobo dungheaps make off with?"
"Twenty three ships," came a pain filled voice from the doorway. "Twenty three out of thirty nine. Most of the ones they got were stocked with weapons. They shot at the rest of them while taking off."
All three of them turned to see a bleeding, battle scarred dragoon march up the gangplank, in strong step despite the long, bloody wound that stretched down his thigh and ended at his knee. He walked up to Cecil and saluted.
"Lieutenant Velerin Ascavar, reporting," he said. Cecil noted that he was rather young. Probably no more than twenty five. Young for a lieutenant.
"Hello, Velerin," Cecil replied wearily. "At least someone's still alive."
"How many casualties were there?" Kain asked immediately following.
"Fifty-four dead, of a hundred and seventeen. Twelve wounded, four critically. Thirteen unaccounted for. Most of the higher-ranking dragoons are dead, either from the first surprise attacks or the subsequent bombardment. I'm the commanding officer out here, now, sir."
"Very well," Kain said in a bleak mood. "Mobilize the remaining dragoons here in Baron, and get the general to organize the standard army. And find someone to tend to the wounded. Rosa'll deal with the more serious injuries, but she can't handle everything."
"Yes, sir."
He brushed by Porom on the way out, who jumped back to avoid being run over by the dragoon. She entered in company with Vashin.
"Porom, what are you doing here? Vashin? Where's Rosa?"
"Couldn't find her," Vashin told him. "I ran into Porom on the way, and figured I'd bring her instead."
"All right, all right, just...Porom, can you handle this?" Cecil pointed to Cid.
"Easily."
With that, she set to work; within a few minutes Cid was up and walking, even if he did have a limp. Kain helped him out the door, while Porom went to deal with the rest of the seriously wounded. The old engineer released a string of expletives at the sight of the destruction outside.
"No time for that, Cid," Cecil said coldly. "How fast can you get these things off the ground?"
Cid snorted. "Hours. Look at this!" he gestured to a nearby ship. "They were firing at us as they took off, that's what made that beam fall on me. This one here, the cannons struck at the base of the primary rotor. Ten to one says it crushed the gearbox and probably ruptured the oil dispensers. This one here," - another gesture - "Was hit on the portside. Randomly placed looking from the outside, but in actuality that's where one of the portside engines is located. Even if we rerouted the oil cables, that's still one third of the power to the portside gone. That one over there," yet another ship "has lost steering. Those small rotors, the ones that point out to the side? We use those to steer, but that one's missing all the starboard ones. We can only turn to port. Most of these have similar damage, and -"
"Cid!" Cecil cut in. The engineer looked up. "How long does it take a ship to fly out of sight?"
"On a clear day like this? Three or four hours, minimum. For a fleet, longer, as they have to go at the pace of the slowest ship while at the same time avoiding collision. I'd say five hours. Maybe more."
"How many of these can you get off the ground in three hours?"
"Six, tops. But we'll never catch up with them, if that's what you're thinking."
"I don't plan to try...yet. Just do what you can with the ships, I'm going to go speak with the elder. Where is he?"
"Still at the reception, or just leaving it." Vashin informed him. "It's only been about thirty minutes."
"Only thirty?" It felt like hours. "Take me to him. Right now. And then find Edge and Rosa and tell them to meet me in my rooms in half an hour."
Vashin nodded.
"How bad was it?" the old man asked.
"Bad. They've stolen half our fleet and crippled the rest."
The Mysidian elder looked down at the ground for a moment, thinking. "All right," he said finally. "You came to me for something. What is it?"
Cecil paced the conference chamber a few times. "Remember the illusion thing Rydia broke through at Fabul? Back during the second war?"
"I wasn't there, but she told me about it, yes."
"Do you have anyone who could duplicate something like that? I need to use it."
Cecil had a tense moment while the elder thought.
"No." he said finally. Cecil's hopes wilted. "Illusion is incredibly difficult. I doubt that Dalsher worked that on his own."
Cecil sighed, "Well, I had to ask. I'll come up with something else then." He moved to go out.
"No, wait a minute," the Elder stopped him. "It can't be done by magic. At least, not by human magic. Have a talk with Rydia and...I forget his name, but talk with your court Caller, too. Some monsters have an innate ability to manipulate light, and what you're asking for sounds like that. It won't hurt to find out."
"All right, then. I'll call them in here, but I think you should listen."
"Very well."
Five minutes later, both of them showed up. Cecil related the situation to both of them, as well as his ideas.
"Well?" Rydia asked Vashin after a moment, expectantly.
"I have someone who can do that," he said slowly.
"Well, get him in here." Cecil said.
"Her, not him. And yes, I’ll call her."
He closed his eyes and chanted the words, then stopped. "I’m not getting anything," he said. "She could be asleep."
For a moment Cecil wondered what in hell he was talking about, but when Rydia didn’t object he decided that it was probably just one of those small facts about calling he knew nothing about. "Well, do what you can. Whenever you manage to pull her here, send her to me."
"Will do," he said, a vaguely troubled expression on his face. He left quietly.
The other two waited a few moments before following. "You worried?" Cecil asked.
She looked at him with a slightly puzzled expression. "You know, it’s the strangest thing. Here we are on the verge of another war, and the only thing that worries me is that the kids’ll decide it’s an adventure and sneak on board with the rest of us."
It was such a ludicrous worry that the two of them laughed themselves to tears.