UnShaekable (FFXII)

XXV) Enraptured

~2 years before~

The dark strains my eyes, broken only by the colorful glowing symbols and buttons crossing the dashboard. A pencil presses against a callous on my ring finger as I scribble down note after note, design after design. Nearly two years have passed since we bought a junky little ship from a graveyard outside Rabanastre. Nowadays, she's sailing the skies smoothly, much larger, sleeker, and all around better than before. She doesn't rattle; she hums happily. She doesn't shake; she fights turbulence relentlessly. She doesn't fail; she perseveres constantly.

"This one blends in," I murmur, circling a button on my rough sketch of the board. The wide, rough surface bites at my pencil, greeting my ears with the gentle scrape of granite to paper. Ever since we picked her up, Dern took his time building in the designs I draw out with meticulous effort. He taught me how to fly, how to think quickly, how to calculate. He taught me how to run days effectively without a wink of sleep. He taught me to care for someone other than myself.

"What if we..." My voice trails off in the darkness.

The Castean is grounded for tonight, on the outskirts of Archades. Much closer to the empire than I prefer, but there's a good deal in store for us if we play our cards right with this bangaa bandit. The ship is concealed by Dern's own version of a device the empire crafted years ago—a device that renders my baby completely invisible. Every possible way to track our ship is blocked—which is why I nearly choke on air when three loud knocks rattle against her side.

"Gods above," I growl, tossing my work into the copilot's seat and lean further toward the windshield. From here, I can't see our visitor.

Huffing, I pick up the pen and scribbling down a note for Dern to increase visibility and hurry away to the entrance of the ship. Unable to see, I brace myself for the worst and pull out a dagger. I'm stunned into silence upon seeing the fearful expression of a slim, small boy outside. He didn't bother to disguise himself, still dressed in the tight white stockings, cropped black pants, and a patterned purple shirt he wore all day. His blue eyes search the empty space he sees ahead of him nervously in the dark, though I can tell he's trying to keep himself calm.

"Larsa?" I drop down and out of the cloak of the Castean, tucking my knife away. His face breaks out in a momentary smile, his short arms tying themselves around my waist. All too quickly, he pulls away, taking a deep breath. "What are you doing here?" My heart fills with dread and I check our surroundings carefully. "What if you were followed?"

"I assure you, you have worse problems at hand," my brother replies dutifully, incredibly level-headed for a frightened child. "Shera, they found your location. You're being hunted as we speak."

"By who?" I frown, crossing my arms. The metal of my left arm's thick armor clinks against the bracelets around my other wrist.

"Vayne," he sighs, though his voice is rushed. "Please, Shera, fly away! He brings with him four well-armed soldiers."

"Let them come," I snap, earning a shudder from his narrow body. "If it's a fight he wants, it's a fight he'll get. I'll not have him leave until this sand is stained with his blood."

"You don't understand," he protests, taking my hand in both of his. "They come bearing spells to freeze you in time and bring you to Archades. I know what my brother has done, but I respect him, and I beg you to do the same for my wishes. I fear a fate far worse than death awaits you if they find you here."

"I'm not afraid of their #$%^ magic," I shake my head, scowling. His face falls a bit farther.

"Shera, I beg of you..."