UnShaekable (FFXII)

XVII) Preparations

"So, it was the Dawn Shard that brought down the Imperial fleet," Basch muses in a low voice.

"You know your stuff," Balthier replies dryly, slowly pacing the length of the dusty, dark room.

Ashe leans against a rough wooden table, twisting the silver rings on her slender fingers. Penelo and Fran sit at the table beside her, Basch standing at the head of the rectangular cut of wood. My arms are crossed, my back pressed against the cold stone of the wall as I watch the scene before me unfold. My muscles ache and dark bags mark the skin beneath Vaan's eyes but Ashe insisted that we head back to Rabanastre to regroup immediately.

"Destructive power of such force—I've seen it once before," Basch continues, turning fully to the princess before him. Vaan stretches his arms over his head, falling against the wall beside me with a yawn. "Lady Ashe, you know of what I speak."

"Nabudis," Ashe murmurs, settling on the edge of the bench pulled up to the table. Penelo watches them converse with a deep-set interest in her shining eyes. A curiosity blessing those of such youth who've yet to know true agony.

"The capital of Old Nabradia—Lord Rasler's fatherland." And Rasler is her late husband. Together they were to rule the alliance between Nabradia and Dalmasca. What a fiasco this all turned out to be. I sigh. Then again, creating fiascos seems to be Vayne's specialty. "At the time of the invasion, a division of Imperial's entered the city..." Basch takes a deep breath, shaking his head. "There was a mighty explosion. Friend and foe alike died. Something was there—one of the Dynast-King's relics. The Midlight Shard was in Nabradia." Balthier hums, leaning one arm against a pillar of stone and resting his other hand on his hip. His eyes fall to the floor as he speaks, his voice drained.

"More nethicite. Well, no wonder they invaded."

"That ridiculous war," Ashe scoffs, turning the Dawn Shard over in her hands. "The trap at the treaty signing—all this because Vayne wanted power." I scoff, rolling my eyes. That's all he's ever after. However, is it not what you're seeking, Lady Ashe? "He must not be allowed to claim the nethicite. The Empire must never hold it." She clutches the stone to her chest. Balthier huffs, turning to face her with his arms crossed.

"Oh? They already do." He cocks his head to the side. "The Dusk Shard, most likely the Midlight Shard, too. Besides," he continues, his voice growing exponentially bitter. "Can't they manufact nethicite now?"

"Very well," Ashe leaps to her feet. "Then the path set before us is clear. We'll use the Dawn Shard to fight them!" Her voice grows soft, her eyes narrowing. "Dalmasca does not forget kindness, nor ill deed done." Balthier falls back against the wall, another unreadable expression overtaking his face. "With sword in hand she aids her allies. Sword in hand, she lays rest to her foes. This nethicite I hold must be my sword. I will avenge those who have died. And the Empire... it will know remorse."

"That was a nice speech, but I don't see how you plan for seven of us to take down the Empire with a glittering rock," I reply impatiently. She frowns turning to face me and opening her mouth to speak. I cut her off. "Yes, I understand it's a relic from Raithwall and its power is good and well." I shrug, refusing to break eye contact. "However, I will have you know that Vayne of House Solidor is far more ruthless than you could ever picture in the bounds of your base fairy-tale imagination."

"Yes, and you would know of such things," she bites back. "Though, I have yet to see you admit yourself fully from your claims to Vayne's ties." I huff, rolling my eyes.

"You forget; not all of us can break our bonds and run like the heroic wildlings of our nursery rhymes." An incredibly sour smile tears across my lips. "Some ties, Princess, cannot ever be undone." Suspiciously, her eyes narrow and fall to the gleam of light hitting the rings on my fingers.