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rose_in_winterPairings/Characters: Kain Highwind, plus cast
Rating: R (overall), PG (this chapter)
Warnings: Spoilers. Violence and language. Occasional sexual content. Other warnings may apply that are not listed here.
Notes: This fic belongs to the Lucis Ante Terminum arc. Chapter list is here.
Summary: Though it is possible to return home, it is rarely possible to return affairs to their previous state. Sometimes the only course of action is to move forward.
Wordcount: 5000 this chapter.
Beta:celeloriel
The morning dawned cool and misty, and found them within the Tower of Prayer, meeting with Solon. He looked to have hardly slept, but still greeted them energetically. Palom and Porom had occupied individual corners of the room he seemed to have claimed as his office, and both were nearly buried in stacks of papers, but they extricated themselves to join the conversation.
"Things seem to be going well," Yang observed, looking at the cheerful mages who hurried around carrying stacks of papers.
Solon smiled faintly. "Everyone seems very determined to put me in charge," he said.
"Isn't that what the Elder intended?" Rydia asked.
"Yes, but I was rather hoping it would be unnecessary," Solon said. "Never mind that. We all have much to do. Let us come straight to the point."
"Zemus," Edge said, and sighed.
"He did say that wherever there was evil in the hearts of men, he would be found," Rydia said.
"Rosa said as much, after you discovered the cache of weapons in Mist," Kain said, addressing his comment to Solon.
Solon nodded. "I am not surprised," he said. "There is much we do not understand about the Lunarians, yet we know that they are quite capable of lingering on after death. This need not be a bad thing, mind; KluYa's soul yet inhabits the shrine upon Mount Ordeals, and that is likely a positive development."
"I would prefer," Rydia said tartly, "to not keep fighting the same battles over and over again. We are no longer as young as once we were."
"I do not think we can ever eradicate the threat of Zemus entirely," Kain said.
Yang nodded. "Kain is correct," he said. "Evil in the hearts of men is not so easy a thing to sweep away."
"So, what, we just keep having to fly off to the moon and kick somebody's ass?" Edge said with disgust. "Didn't Cecil say they left, anyway?"
"If it was as simple as that," Porom said quietly, "we would not now face this problem."
"You can fix a lot of problems with enough meteors," Palom offered.
"No," half the room said in unison.
Palom sighed. "I was mostly kidding," he said plaintively.
"With you, it is difficult to be certain," Jalen said, deadpan.
Kain tried not to laugh aloud. From the quiet coughing noises that Rydia and Solon were making, they struggled in similar fashion. Edge did not bother to contain himself and roared with laughter.
"I do not think that the solution is battle," Porom said when Edge at last subsided. "The difficulty is in men's hearts, not their swords."
Yang nodded. "Greater harmony would eclipse Zemus's power, you mean," he said.
"Something like that, yes," Solon agreed. "As Porom said, I do not believe we can solve this problem with swords or magic; nor do I necessarily think it would be wise to try. For every light there is a shadow cast; one does not exist without the other."
"So, what, we just watch everyone else to see if they show signs of mind control? That seems like it could get messy," Edge said doubtfully.
"No, I think Yang has the right of it," Rydia said. "If we promote peace, and understanding—" She continued to speak over Edge's snort of amusement "—then at the very least we shall perhaps be less susceptible."
"We must also not forget the lessons of our past," Solon said, and though no one looked in his direction, Kain felt the weight of his own actions. He did not ever expect to complete his atonement for his deeds, but to be reminded of them still stung.
"Agreed," Rydia said. "A balance of power must be maintained."
"So what action do we take, then?" Edge demanded.
"We teach our children well," Yang said. "We continue to talk to each other with words, not fists. We simply try to do better than our parents."
"And we must be willing to tell each other when we think that we are approaching lines that ought not be crossed," Kain made himself say.
Porom nodded. "That most of all, I think," she said.
Silence descended for a moment, broken by Solon rustling a scroll apologetically. "I am sorry," he said, "but there is much for us to do. If there are no more actions we can take..." He trailed off.
Kain bowed. "I apologize for taking up your valuable time," he said. "Do you require further assistance from Baron's troops?"
"No," Solon said, a touch too quickly. "We shall manage on our own. I am truly grateful for your assistance, but I think it is time for us to work to clean our own house."
"If you need assistance, you have only to send a message," Rydia said. "Someone traveling the Devil's Road can have word at Baron in hours, and from there it can spread to the rest of us." She stepped forward and gave Solon a quick hug. "Good luck," she said.
"Thank you," Solon said. "We may need it."
When their good-byes had been said, they returned to the camp in near-silence, each caught up in their own thoughts. Kain handed his chocobo over to a stable master, and headed for his tent.
"Uncle Kain?" Jalen said from right behind him, and Kain nearly jumped in surprise.
"Yes, King Jalen?" he said, disciplining himself to calm. Jalen looked both nervous and defiant, and if Kain's memory of his own adolescence was accurate, it might presage trouble.
Jalen winced. "Just Jalen right now, please, Uncle Kain," he said.
"So this is a family matter?" Kain found himself pleased that Jalen trusted him enough to ask questions as he might a father—a thought he dared not analyze too carefully.
Jalen nodded and shifted awkwardly, leaning from one foot to the other, saying nothing. Kain bit back a smile that he was certain Jalen would misinterpret. "Shall we go for a walk?" he offered. "I find I have a great deal of energy that will now not be spent, since we are not fighting directly."
"Yes," Jalen said, rather too quickly. "Let's do that."
They walked in silence to the shore, where little wavelets ran and burbled to themselves as they tumbled over each other, racing to dampen boots and sand alike. Jalen bent from time to time to scoop a shell out of the sand, but he always tossed the shells back into the waves.
"I want to climb Mount Ordeals," he blurted, the words coming so fast that it took Kain several moments to sort through the rush of sound and isolate individual words from it.
His first instinct was to forbid it; Baron's King was too valuable (and Jalen himself too dear) to risk him that way, but he forced himself to analyze this situation logically. "To what purpose?" he asked at last.
Jalen kicked a bit of sand. "You're not going to let me," he said, sounding bitter.
"I said no such thing," Kain said, working to keep his tone mild. "I asked you to what purpose you wish to climb the mountain."
"You're going to say it's stupid," Jalen muttered.
Kain said nothing.
Jalen sighed and kicked another bit of sand. "I want to see where my father became a paladin," he said. "And—and try to pass the trial. I want to be a good king. I know I'm too young to take the crown and that's fine because meetings are boring—"
Kain cleared his throat several times to stifle the laughter that threatened.
"—But I should have something to call my own, when I do," Jalen finished, his face a bright embarrassed red.
Kain rubbed a hand over his mouth to hide the last traces of his smile, though he was sure Jalen saw it anyway. "The mountain will not simply give you a paladin's abilities," he warned. "You are not entitled to it by your blood."
"I know that," Jalen snapped. "I just—don't you see, Uncle Kain? There's nothing for me to do but wait while the Houses try to figure out how best to unseat me and put their sons in my place, or their daughters—" He coughed, turning a darker shade of red for a moment, and changed tactics. "I can't do anything really interesting because we cannot risk your life, King Jalen, and nobody will let me do anything meaningful because I'm too young, and this is something I can do."
His mockery of Lord Nerthic's tone was really superb, Kain mused. "And what of climbing the mountain itself?" he asked. "You are not yet so practiced a knight that you might take on this task alone."
Jalen shrugged awkwardly. "I was hoping you would come with me."
"I see." Kain wandered a few more aimless steps down the beach. "On two conditions, then."
"Which are?" Jalen was wary and yet determined; Kain could almost see him preparing his counter-offers.
"First, that you are accompanied by myself and no fewer than three others," Kain said. "Second, that you agree you will turn back if you ever think you cannot accomplish this journey."
Jalen nodded slowly. "I will not back down from a challenge," he said.
"I understand," Kain replied.
"All right," Jalen said. "It is agreed." He gave a formal little bow.
"We will set out after lunch, arrive at the mountain this evening, and begin the climb tomorrow morning," Kain said. Upon seeing Jalen bite his tongue on the question of "why not now?" he continued, "We must give orders for the soldiers to strike camp, and ensure that we are prepared."
"Very well. Thank you, Lord Regent," he said, and turned toward his own tent.
"What was that all about?" Edge asked.
Kain devoutly wished that ninjas were not so good at vanishing upon their merest whim, only to reappear when least expected. "Jalen wishes to climb Mount Ordeals," he said.
"So you're headed out this afternoon?" Edge said, a little too casually. "I could use a good workout."
Kain smiled. Edge's heart surely rested in the correct place. "I would appreciate your company."
"I'll tell Rydia, you tell Yang," Edge said. "Give us something to do while everybody else packs up all this." He waved an arm to indicate the camp, then gave Kain a half-hearted salute and dashed off to waylay Rydia. Kain stopped to speak to the commander of Baron's forces and then made his way to Fabul's portion of the encampment.
Yang was supervising the morning drills of half of his soldiers, while the other half hastened to begin packing up the camp. "Regent Kain!" Yang said, waving. "When do you plan to set sail?"
"Actually, we are going to make a side trip," Kain said.
Yang nodded. "King Jalen wishes to see the mountain his father climbed?" he guessed.
"Indeed," Kain said.
Yang smiled. "I have never seen the summit of Mount Ordeals," he said. "I would appreciate the opportunity."
Kain wondered if he were that obvious, or if everyone was truly so interested in the mountain. "Thank you," he said, instead of questioning.
Yang shrugged. "I am curious about the mountain, and we cannot allow our children to come to harm," he said. "When do we depart?"
"After lunch," Kain said.
"I will be there." Yang gave a half-bow, then returned to his drills.
Kain himself packed up the contents of the commanders' tent, where so many battles had been fought with carven chocobos and tiny figures. He found himself wondering how often Jalen would be in such a tent, once crowned. Baron had engaged in four major wars in Kain's lifetime—the destruction of Palamecia, Golbez's attempts to conquer the world, the war with Damcyan that had claimed Cecil and Edward alike, and now this.
Did it never end?
So long as there is evil in the hearts of men.
He had been raised to war, trained for it, taught tactics and fighting patterns until he could do them in his sleep.
Perhaps this would be the only war Jalen would ever fight. He could only hope so.
It did not take him long to finish packing the tent, nor to prepare for the journey up Mount Ordeals. He had brought both a mundane spear and his holy spear, the latter shimmering as though in moonlight even through its cover. Jalen would want to fight some of the undead himself, of course—and Kain knew it would be wise to let him test his abilities—but he had no intention of letting Jalen risk his life.
It was a cheerful party that assembled after the noon meal. The war was behind them, from all appearances, and soon their party would separate once again, back to the four corners of the world. It was pleasant to ride through the fields with no need to worry about monsters, which feared the chocobos. Though he was loath to admit it aloud, he even enjoyed Edge and Rydia's habitual bickering. Jalen rode between him and Yang, straining forward in his saddle to see the mountain that had become famous in Baron as the place where Cecil had become a paladin. Before Livius had murdered the old Elder to take his place, a few knights a year had petitioned Cecil for permission to travel to Mount Ordeals and try themselves against the holy mountain. Cecil had questioned each petitioner thoroughly before granting his permission. Half had never returned; those who did had not returned victorious. No one had gone since Solon and the others fled to Baron via the Devil's Road.
They reached the foot of the mountain a bit before sunset, and set up their small camp. It was both oddly familiar and distinctly different than in their younger days; they were all somewhat less practiced now, after years of life behind castle walls, but they were also better at working in concert.
Rydia called Jalen over to watch her light the campfire with a spell, and Kain saw Jalen's recognition of her forgiveness for his earlier, careless words. He hugged her, and said something Kain could not hear, and she hugged him back tightly and smoothed his hair, which made him duck away like any boy teetering on the edge of adulthood. She laughed, and set him to helping prepare the evening meal.
Twilight fell, and then night, and the mountain rose black and forbidding behind them.
"Somehow...I thought it would be steeper," Jalen said, staring up at Mount Ordeals.
"It's hardly a piddly little hill," Edge remarked.
"I don't mean height," Jalen said, and paused, struggling for words. "I thought it would be rougher. There's a path."
"Well, your uncle Kain lived there for two years before you were born," Yang said. "I imagine he made some improvements."
"Yeah, sitting around on your ass all day gets boring," Edge said.
"There is a difference between sitting around and meditating," Rydia said, pulling sharply on a tuft of Edge's hair beneath his hood. "You do the former." She left her remarks on the latter unspecified.
"I did not carve the path; it was here when I arrived," Kain said. "I never asked Cecil what he saw."
"I hardly think he took the time, in the midst of rescuing people and running hither and yon collecting forces to fight Golbez, to carve a path in rock," Rydia said dryly.
"Perhaps KluYa?" Jalen proposed. Then he frowned. "But why would he want to make it easier to climb the mountain? They do not call it Mount Fun and Games. One presumes Mount Ordeals presents...well...an ordeal."
"The enemies are sufficient challenge without treacherous footing added to the mix," Kain said. "Moreover, the true trial lies atop the mountain, not on the path."
Jalen thought about this. "So how come there are so many undead?" he asked. "I mean. It's a holy place. Wouldn't they hiss and run away?"
Kain had an utterly inappropriate mental image of a stampede of angry zombie cats, tails fluffed out and eyes glowing, and hastily banished it form his mind's eye. "I believe they were originally brought by Scarmiglione," he said, "though the Mysidians would know better than I. The mountain itself never seemed particularly holy to me, only the shrine that KluYa built."
"I would agree," Yang said. "This does not feel like a holy place, merely one with the weight of importance upon it."
Edge prodded the fire idly. "Well, I've got the weight of a busy day on me." He waggled his eyebrows at Rydia. "Come to bed, dear?"
She rolled her eyes, but moved with him toward their bedrolls. Jalen stayed up a bit longer out of what seemed to be sheer stubbornness, but at last he too went to his bedroll and fell asleep, leaving Kain and Yang alone at the fire. A companionable silence fell between them, broken only by the popping and snapping of burning wood. Kain watched the moon—just one, now—rise higher. The shadows it cast in the forest and on the mountain seemed impenetrable.
"Are you worried about the trial, or about what comes after it?" Yang asked, when the fire had burned down to embers.
"After," Kain said, and it was not something that required much thought. "I do not think it will be an easy trial, but he can do it. However, I worry that he will find it difficult to act as a ruler sometimes must, when he is a paladin." He watched a piece of wood collapse in a burst of sparks. "His father did."
Yang nodded thoughtfully. "You do not think paladins make good kings?"
Kain hesitated. "I think that being a paladin gives one a sense of certain requirements," he said, "and one must act a certain way. Sometimes, that is incompatible with the reality of ruling a kingdom. I often found myself making suggestions to Cecil that were in keeping with how we were taught, but that he felt besmirched him as a paladin. I do not think he was wrong to think so; I am aware that I was there to make the suggestions he did not want to make. But I worry for Jalen, when he takes the throne; I will not always be there to advise him, nor should I be. He should be his own man." What Kain carefully did not say was that if he had taught Jalen enough, there was a solid chance that Kain would not survive Jalen's ascension to the throne; his knowledge would make him a threat.
"He need not discard your counsel in order to be himself," Yang said. "If you worry, why did you not stop him, or ask him to delay?"
Kain laughed. "Because he is old enough to decide," he said. "Cecil and I were only a few years older when we chose our places in the military; he may not serve as we did, but he will still be trained as a warrior. King Odin let me choose the Dragoons when he would have preferred me as a Dark Knight. I can do no less for Jalen."
Yang nodded. "He may surprise you," he said. "The outcome need not be black and white."
Kain hesitated. He had tried not to think too hard about that possibility, but it was unspeakably tempting. The words came slowly. "Cecil and Rosa—they tried—she is trying—to be paragons," he said. "Paragons make good ballads."
"But we do not live in a ballad," Yang finished.
Kain knew it was stupid, knew that he would betray a weakness in Baron's rulership if he asked, but as Cecil had been fond of insisting, these were their friends—Yang would likely not betray his trust. "How do you do it?" he asked, or more likely choked out, the words disconnected and harsh.
Yang shook his head. "The outcome is not always black and white," he said. "There is what I aspire to be, and what I realistically can do. I do not do it alone; Yinyi helps a great deal, as do the other monks." He paused. "A king's word is final, but he does not act alone."
Kain thought of the uneasy balance between himself and Rosa, each pulling in a different direction. "Compromises," he said eventually.
"Just so." Yang rose and made him a polite bow. "Good night, Kain."
"Good night," Kain said. Though he banked the fire and went to bed, he stared for a long time up at the stars overhead, wondering how best to impart that lesson to Jalen.
He slept poorly and woke groggy at dawn. During his self-imposed exile, he had enjoyed watching the sun come up over the mountain; it had lost none of its power in the thirteen years since he had left. The mountain was still forbidding, but in a way that seemed somewhat more approachable. He wondered if Scarmiglione's power yet lurked here, if that taint had begun to undermine the holiness of KluYa's sanctuary. Perhaps Solon knew of a way to address that issue, if it should even be addressed.
Jalen crawled out of his bedroll with his hair mussed enough to do the spikiest-crested chocobo proud. After that it did not take long for their little party to prepare for the day and tidy up their campsite; likely they would return here after the climb.
Towering columns of flame blocked their ascent, as they had when Kain had descended from the mountain so long ago. Jalen studied the flames for quite some time before asking Rydia if she would be so kind as to tame them. When she did, something prickled along the back of Kain's neck that had naught to do with Blizzara spells. He tried to shake it off, but it lingered.
They left their chocobos tethered near the base of the mountain, as the birds were not very sure-footed on rock, and began the long climb. It was a quiet journey, apart from Edge's stream of inappropriate wisecracks—which Rydia did not bother to dignify with a response most of the time—and the calling out of battle plans when they found monsters to slay. Kain tried to remember if the quantity of enemies was similar to when he had left, but the intervening years made it difficult to say with certainty. Jalen's white magic seemed stronger than Cecil's had, though his sword skills were less powerful; Kain wondered if there was some kind of limit to the extent of one's skill that kept one from excelling too much when one tried to pursue multiple paths.
They paused to rest when they reached the flat plateaus, and for the most part the creatures kept away from them. In the years since they had fought Zemus, the incidents of monsters attacking people simply for being present had diminished, as their nations had grown safer; Baron's army spent more time clearing out goblin infestations than it did preparing for war, and for that, Kain was grateful. That seemed to be less true here on Mount Ordeals, but Kain was certain that the monsters were at the least less aggressive.
They reached the bridge where Cecil said he had fought Scarmiglione, and paused to rest in the safe zone one last time. Jalen stared across the bridge to the other peak, where KluYa's sanctuary seemed to glow white in the midday sun.
"You sure about this?" Edge asked him, saving Kain from having to do the same. "You don't have to, you know. You've got time."
"I know I am young, Uncle Edge," Jalen said, as dignified as he could manage, "but I want to do this."
"Whenever you're ready, then," Rydia said. "We will be with you."
Jalen smiled, a little uncertainly, and hugged her. She smoothed his hair and he pulled away, scowling, which made them all laugh. Then he straightened his shoulders and turned toward the sanctuary. "Must I leave my sword outside?" he asked.
"I don't know," Kain said. "Your father said that his armor vanished after—well. After. None of us were there with him." He glanced at Edge and Rydia for confirmation, and they nodded.
Jalen considered this. "I think I must go as myself, then, not as rank and wealth have aided me," he said, and started to remove his armour.
Kain was surprised, but perhaps he should not have been. He helped Jalen out of his armaments, and then the four of them formed something of an honour guard, just in case anything chose to attack on the way across the bridge. Their caution turned out to be unwarranted, and they reached the shrine without incident.
"Take all the time you need," Rydia told Jalen.
He nodded and squared his shoulders, and approached the shrine slowly. He paused and seemed almost ready to look back, but instead he reached out and pushed at the weighted door. It swung inward slowly, and Jalen stepped inside.
The door swung shut.
Silence stretched between them, thin and brittle as spun glass, and Kain watched the door. There was no movement, no sound, no fluctuation in the lunar light that radiated from the shrine even in brilliant sunlight.
"Do you know how long this takes?" Edge asked Kain, waving vaguely at the shrine.
"I am unsure," Kain replied. "I never asked Cecil, and I did not attempt this myself."
"It takes as long as it takes," Yang said.
Edge stared at him in blatant disbelief. "Yang. Seriously? That's all you've got?"
"No, that makes sense," Rydia said. "For one person, it might take five minutes; for another, a day. We do not know which case will apply here."
Edge sighed and folded down to sit on the stone, stretching until his muscles and tendons crackled audibly. "Well, then, I guess we wait," he said.
Kain remained standing, like an honour guard, as did Yang. Rydia eventually seated herself next to Edge, but kept her gaze trained on the entrance to the shrine. The thought of what to do if Jalen did not emerge hung unspoken between them all like the axe Golbez had suspended over Rosa when she was held captive in the Tower of Zot. None of them would speak of it, but the question was there nonetheless.
A half-hour passed, and then an hour. Shadows began to slant across the mountaintop as the sun slowly sank. By mid-afternoon, Kain was finding it difficult to remain outside; he longed to go check on Jalen, but was afraid of the consequences if he interrupted the ritual. Jalen was too young. He should have waited, and come back when he was sixteen. Kain should not have permitted this at all—though he knew, in his heart, that he could hardly have stopped it.
Edge stirred. Kain turned sharply, one hand lifted to silence the words that he was afraid Edge was about to speak, and the King of Eblan shook his head, frowning.
The door opened.
Jalen staggered out, blinking dazedly in the sunlight and unsteady on his feet. Kain leapt forward to help him. He leaned against Kain, an oddly comforting weight, and laughed a little unevenly. "That was...really hard," he said.
"Do you require treatment?" Kain asked, the words too formal but all he could shape.
Jalen shook his head. "I—that. That was my grandfather?" He tried to straighten, and wobbled badly before he finally stood steady. "That's a little scary."
"So are you a paladin or did you just get kicked out and told to stay off Grandpa's doorstep?" Edge asked. His tone was kinder than the words would suggest.
"I am a paladin," Jalen said, and there was a world full of wonders in his voice. "I passed the trial." He staggered again. "I'm also really hungry," he said, somewhat plaintively, and the silence was broken with laughter while Edge rummaged in their pack for some travel rations.
Jalen having been fed and armed once more, they prepared to leave. Kain looked back at the windswept mountaintop, wondering why he did not feel anything more after standing here where he had lived for two years, but the stone held no answers for him.
"Did you want to try, Uncle Kain?" Jalen asked. "I am sorry, it was thoughtless of me to assume."
"No," Kain said.
Jalen frowned. "Why not?" he asked. "You lived here for two years, and you never did—why not then, why not now?"
Yang opened his mouth, perhaps to caution Jalen against asking such questions, and Kain shook his head to forestall it. "When I was here before, I did not feel I deserved the opportunity," he said, and ignored Edge's long-suffering sigh and excessively obvious eye-rolling. "Now, I do not need it. I do not think it appropriate to seek powers of which I have no need."
Jalen frowned. "Are you sure you're not just making excuses?" he asked.
Kain could not help himself; he glared at Rydia, who was covering her mouth to try to contain her laughter.
"Jalen, that's not fair," Edge said.
"It is a legitimate question," Kain said tiredly. "I do not know, Jalen. I do not think so. Once I would have wanted to claim holy powers, to prove—I don't know what I wanted to prove. That I could overcome the taint of serving Golbez, perhaps, or to prove I was worthy to be my father's son. But I do not think I require that power, now; I prefer to make my own way."
Jalen frowned. "Do you think I am—relying overmuch on outside power?" he asked uncertainly.
Kain shook his head. "I said only that it was not right for me, Jalen. If it had not been right for you, you would not now bear that blade." He nodded toward the sword Cecil had once carried, that had been safely stored in Baron Castle after Cecil's death, and now gleamed moon-bright in Jalen's hand, though they had left it in the Castle when they sailed. Magic was strange like that.
Jalen turned the sword slowly in his hands, watching light run off it like water. The sinuous curves of the dragon carved into the hilt shimmered. Carefully he sheathed it. "If you are certain," he said, "then let us go."
"I am certain." Kain did not look back again as they descended the mountain, and though Jalen cast him many curious looks, he said nothing.
Rating: R (overall), PG (this chapter)
Warnings: Spoilers. Violence and language. Occasional sexual content. Other warnings may apply that are not listed here.
Notes: This fic belongs to the Lucis Ante Terminum arc. Chapter list is here.
Summary: Though it is possible to return home, it is rarely possible to return affairs to their previous state. Sometimes the only course of action is to move forward.
Wordcount: 5000 this chapter.
Beta:
celelorielThe morning dawned cool and misty, and found them within the Tower of Prayer, meeting with Solon. He looked to have hardly slept, but still greeted them energetically. Palom and Porom had occupied individual corners of the room he seemed to have claimed as his office, and both were nearly buried in stacks of papers, but they extricated themselves to join the conversation.
"Things seem to be going well," Yang observed, looking at the cheerful mages who hurried around carrying stacks of papers.
Solon smiled faintly. "Everyone seems very determined to put me in charge," he said.
"Isn't that what the Elder intended?" Rydia asked.
"Yes, but I was rather hoping it would be unnecessary," Solon said. "Never mind that. We all have much to do. Let us come straight to the point."
"Zemus," Edge said, and sighed.
"He did say that wherever there was evil in the hearts of men, he would be found," Rydia said.
"Rosa said as much, after you discovered the cache of weapons in Mist," Kain said, addressing his comment to Solon.
Solon nodded. "I am not surprised," he said. "There is much we do not understand about the Lunarians, yet we know that they are quite capable of lingering on after death. This need not be a bad thing, mind; KluYa's soul yet inhabits the shrine upon Mount Ordeals, and that is likely a positive development."
"I would prefer," Rydia said tartly, "to not keep fighting the same battles over and over again. We are no longer as young as once we were."
"I do not think we can ever eradicate the threat of Zemus entirely," Kain said.
Yang nodded. "Kain is correct," he said. "Evil in the hearts of men is not so easy a thing to sweep away."
"So, what, we just keep having to fly off to the moon and kick somebody's ass?" Edge said with disgust. "Didn't Cecil say they left, anyway?"
"If it was as simple as that," Porom said quietly, "we would not now face this problem."
"You can fix a lot of problems with enough meteors," Palom offered.
"No," half the room said in unison.
Palom sighed. "I was mostly kidding," he said plaintively.
"With you, it is difficult to be certain," Jalen said, deadpan.
Kain tried not to laugh aloud. From the quiet coughing noises that Rydia and Solon were making, they struggled in similar fashion. Edge did not bother to contain himself and roared with laughter.
"I do not think that the solution is battle," Porom said when Edge at last subsided. "The difficulty is in men's hearts, not their swords."
Yang nodded. "Greater harmony would eclipse Zemus's power, you mean," he said.
"Something like that, yes," Solon agreed. "As Porom said, I do not believe we can solve this problem with swords or magic; nor do I necessarily think it would be wise to try. For every light there is a shadow cast; one does not exist without the other."
"So, what, we just watch everyone else to see if they show signs of mind control? That seems like it could get messy," Edge said doubtfully.
"No, I think Yang has the right of it," Rydia said. "If we promote peace, and understanding—" She continued to speak over Edge's snort of amusement "—then at the very least we shall perhaps be less susceptible."
"We must also not forget the lessons of our past," Solon said, and though no one looked in his direction, Kain felt the weight of his own actions. He did not ever expect to complete his atonement for his deeds, but to be reminded of them still stung.
"Agreed," Rydia said. "A balance of power must be maintained."
"So what action do we take, then?" Edge demanded.
"We teach our children well," Yang said. "We continue to talk to each other with words, not fists. We simply try to do better than our parents."
"And we must be willing to tell each other when we think that we are approaching lines that ought not be crossed," Kain made himself say.
Porom nodded. "That most of all, I think," she said.
Silence descended for a moment, broken by Solon rustling a scroll apologetically. "I am sorry," he said, "but there is much for us to do. If there are no more actions we can take..." He trailed off.
Kain bowed. "I apologize for taking up your valuable time," he said. "Do you require further assistance from Baron's troops?"
"No," Solon said, a touch too quickly. "We shall manage on our own. I am truly grateful for your assistance, but I think it is time for us to work to clean our own house."
"If you need assistance, you have only to send a message," Rydia said. "Someone traveling the Devil's Road can have word at Baron in hours, and from there it can spread to the rest of us." She stepped forward and gave Solon a quick hug. "Good luck," she said.
"Thank you," Solon said. "We may need it."
When their good-byes had been said, they returned to the camp in near-silence, each caught up in their own thoughts. Kain handed his chocobo over to a stable master, and headed for his tent.
"Uncle Kain?" Jalen said from right behind him, and Kain nearly jumped in surprise.
"Yes, King Jalen?" he said, disciplining himself to calm. Jalen looked both nervous and defiant, and if Kain's memory of his own adolescence was accurate, it might presage trouble.
Jalen winced. "Just Jalen right now, please, Uncle Kain," he said.
"So this is a family matter?" Kain found himself pleased that Jalen trusted him enough to ask questions as he might a father—a thought he dared not analyze too carefully.
Jalen nodded and shifted awkwardly, leaning from one foot to the other, saying nothing. Kain bit back a smile that he was certain Jalen would misinterpret. "Shall we go for a walk?" he offered. "I find I have a great deal of energy that will now not be spent, since we are not fighting directly."
"Yes," Jalen said, rather too quickly. "Let's do that."
They walked in silence to the shore, where little wavelets ran and burbled to themselves as they tumbled over each other, racing to dampen boots and sand alike. Jalen bent from time to time to scoop a shell out of the sand, but he always tossed the shells back into the waves.
"I want to climb Mount Ordeals," he blurted, the words coming so fast that it took Kain several moments to sort through the rush of sound and isolate individual words from it.
His first instinct was to forbid it; Baron's King was too valuable (and Jalen himself too dear) to risk him that way, but he forced himself to analyze this situation logically. "To what purpose?" he asked at last.
Jalen kicked a bit of sand. "You're not going to let me," he said, sounding bitter.
"I said no such thing," Kain said, working to keep his tone mild. "I asked you to what purpose you wish to climb the mountain."
"You're going to say it's stupid," Jalen muttered.
Kain said nothing.
Jalen sighed and kicked another bit of sand. "I want to see where my father became a paladin," he said. "And—and try to pass the trial. I want to be a good king. I know I'm too young to take the crown and that's fine because meetings are boring—"
Kain cleared his throat several times to stifle the laughter that threatened.
"—But I should have something to call my own, when I do," Jalen finished, his face a bright embarrassed red.
Kain rubbed a hand over his mouth to hide the last traces of his smile, though he was sure Jalen saw it anyway. "The mountain will not simply give you a paladin's abilities," he warned. "You are not entitled to it by your blood."
"I know that," Jalen snapped. "I just—don't you see, Uncle Kain? There's nothing for me to do but wait while the Houses try to figure out how best to unseat me and put their sons in my place, or their daughters—" He coughed, turning a darker shade of red for a moment, and changed tactics. "I can't do anything really interesting because we cannot risk your life, King Jalen, and nobody will let me do anything meaningful because I'm too young, and this is something I can do."
His mockery of Lord Nerthic's tone was really superb, Kain mused. "And what of climbing the mountain itself?" he asked. "You are not yet so practiced a knight that you might take on this task alone."
Jalen shrugged awkwardly. "I was hoping you would come with me."
"I see." Kain wandered a few more aimless steps down the beach. "On two conditions, then."
"Which are?" Jalen was wary and yet determined; Kain could almost see him preparing his counter-offers.
"First, that you are accompanied by myself and no fewer than three others," Kain said. "Second, that you agree you will turn back if you ever think you cannot accomplish this journey."
Jalen nodded slowly. "I will not back down from a challenge," he said.
"I understand," Kain replied.
"All right," Jalen said. "It is agreed." He gave a formal little bow.
"We will set out after lunch, arrive at the mountain this evening, and begin the climb tomorrow morning," Kain said. Upon seeing Jalen bite his tongue on the question of "why not now?" he continued, "We must give orders for the soldiers to strike camp, and ensure that we are prepared."
"Very well. Thank you, Lord Regent," he said, and turned toward his own tent.
"What was that all about?" Edge asked.
Kain devoutly wished that ninjas were not so good at vanishing upon their merest whim, only to reappear when least expected. "Jalen wishes to climb Mount Ordeals," he said.
"So you're headed out this afternoon?" Edge said, a little too casually. "I could use a good workout."
Kain smiled. Edge's heart surely rested in the correct place. "I would appreciate your company."
"I'll tell Rydia, you tell Yang," Edge said. "Give us something to do while everybody else packs up all this." He waved an arm to indicate the camp, then gave Kain a half-hearted salute and dashed off to waylay Rydia. Kain stopped to speak to the commander of Baron's forces and then made his way to Fabul's portion of the encampment.
Yang was supervising the morning drills of half of his soldiers, while the other half hastened to begin packing up the camp. "Regent Kain!" Yang said, waving. "When do you plan to set sail?"
"Actually, we are going to make a side trip," Kain said.
Yang nodded. "King Jalen wishes to see the mountain his father climbed?" he guessed.
"Indeed," Kain said.
Yang smiled. "I have never seen the summit of Mount Ordeals," he said. "I would appreciate the opportunity."
Kain wondered if he were that obvious, or if everyone was truly so interested in the mountain. "Thank you," he said, instead of questioning.
Yang shrugged. "I am curious about the mountain, and we cannot allow our children to come to harm," he said. "When do we depart?"
"After lunch," Kain said.
"I will be there." Yang gave a half-bow, then returned to his drills.
Kain himself packed up the contents of the commanders' tent, where so many battles had been fought with carven chocobos and tiny figures. He found himself wondering how often Jalen would be in such a tent, once crowned. Baron had engaged in four major wars in Kain's lifetime—the destruction of Palamecia, Golbez's attempts to conquer the world, the war with Damcyan that had claimed Cecil and Edward alike, and now this.
Did it never end?
So long as there is evil in the hearts of men.
He had been raised to war, trained for it, taught tactics and fighting patterns until he could do them in his sleep.
Perhaps this would be the only war Jalen would ever fight. He could only hope so.
It did not take him long to finish packing the tent, nor to prepare for the journey up Mount Ordeals. He had brought both a mundane spear and his holy spear, the latter shimmering as though in moonlight even through its cover. Jalen would want to fight some of the undead himself, of course—and Kain knew it would be wise to let him test his abilities—but he had no intention of letting Jalen risk his life.
It was a cheerful party that assembled after the noon meal. The war was behind them, from all appearances, and soon their party would separate once again, back to the four corners of the world. It was pleasant to ride through the fields with no need to worry about monsters, which feared the chocobos. Though he was loath to admit it aloud, he even enjoyed Edge and Rydia's habitual bickering. Jalen rode between him and Yang, straining forward in his saddle to see the mountain that had become famous in Baron as the place where Cecil had become a paladin. Before Livius had murdered the old Elder to take his place, a few knights a year had petitioned Cecil for permission to travel to Mount Ordeals and try themselves against the holy mountain. Cecil had questioned each petitioner thoroughly before granting his permission. Half had never returned; those who did had not returned victorious. No one had gone since Solon and the others fled to Baron via the Devil's Road.
They reached the foot of the mountain a bit before sunset, and set up their small camp. It was both oddly familiar and distinctly different than in their younger days; they were all somewhat less practiced now, after years of life behind castle walls, but they were also better at working in concert.
Rydia called Jalen over to watch her light the campfire with a spell, and Kain saw Jalen's recognition of her forgiveness for his earlier, careless words. He hugged her, and said something Kain could not hear, and she hugged him back tightly and smoothed his hair, which made him duck away like any boy teetering on the edge of adulthood. She laughed, and set him to helping prepare the evening meal.
Twilight fell, and then night, and the mountain rose black and forbidding behind them.
"Somehow...I thought it would be steeper," Jalen said, staring up at Mount Ordeals.
"It's hardly a piddly little hill," Edge remarked.
"I don't mean height," Jalen said, and paused, struggling for words. "I thought it would be rougher. There's a path."
"Well, your uncle Kain lived there for two years before you were born," Yang said. "I imagine he made some improvements."
"Yeah, sitting around on your ass all day gets boring," Edge said.
"There is a difference between sitting around and meditating," Rydia said, pulling sharply on a tuft of Edge's hair beneath his hood. "You do the former." She left her remarks on the latter unspecified.
"I did not carve the path; it was here when I arrived," Kain said. "I never asked Cecil what he saw."
"I hardly think he took the time, in the midst of rescuing people and running hither and yon collecting forces to fight Golbez, to carve a path in rock," Rydia said dryly.
"Perhaps KluYa?" Jalen proposed. Then he frowned. "But why would he want to make it easier to climb the mountain? They do not call it Mount Fun and Games. One presumes Mount Ordeals presents...well...an ordeal."
"The enemies are sufficient challenge without treacherous footing added to the mix," Kain said. "Moreover, the true trial lies atop the mountain, not on the path."
Jalen thought about this. "So how come there are so many undead?" he asked. "I mean. It's a holy place. Wouldn't they hiss and run away?"
Kain had an utterly inappropriate mental image of a stampede of angry zombie cats, tails fluffed out and eyes glowing, and hastily banished it form his mind's eye. "I believe they were originally brought by Scarmiglione," he said, "though the Mysidians would know better than I. The mountain itself never seemed particularly holy to me, only the shrine that KluYa built."
"I would agree," Yang said. "This does not feel like a holy place, merely one with the weight of importance upon it."
Edge prodded the fire idly. "Well, I've got the weight of a busy day on me." He waggled his eyebrows at Rydia. "Come to bed, dear?"
She rolled her eyes, but moved with him toward their bedrolls. Jalen stayed up a bit longer out of what seemed to be sheer stubbornness, but at last he too went to his bedroll and fell asleep, leaving Kain and Yang alone at the fire. A companionable silence fell between them, broken only by the popping and snapping of burning wood. Kain watched the moon—just one, now—rise higher. The shadows it cast in the forest and on the mountain seemed impenetrable.
"Are you worried about the trial, or about what comes after it?" Yang asked, when the fire had burned down to embers.
"After," Kain said, and it was not something that required much thought. "I do not think it will be an easy trial, but he can do it. However, I worry that he will find it difficult to act as a ruler sometimes must, when he is a paladin." He watched a piece of wood collapse in a burst of sparks. "His father did."
Yang nodded thoughtfully. "You do not think paladins make good kings?"
Kain hesitated. "I think that being a paladin gives one a sense of certain requirements," he said, "and one must act a certain way. Sometimes, that is incompatible with the reality of ruling a kingdom. I often found myself making suggestions to Cecil that were in keeping with how we were taught, but that he felt besmirched him as a paladin. I do not think he was wrong to think so; I am aware that I was there to make the suggestions he did not want to make. But I worry for Jalen, when he takes the throne; I will not always be there to advise him, nor should I be. He should be his own man." What Kain carefully did not say was that if he had taught Jalen enough, there was a solid chance that Kain would not survive Jalen's ascension to the throne; his knowledge would make him a threat.
"He need not discard your counsel in order to be himself," Yang said. "If you worry, why did you not stop him, or ask him to delay?"
Kain laughed. "Because he is old enough to decide," he said. "Cecil and I were only a few years older when we chose our places in the military; he may not serve as we did, but he will still be trained as a warrior. King Odin let me choose the Dragoons when he would have preferred me as a Dark Knight. I can do no less for Jalen."
Yang nodded. "He may surprise you," he said. "The outcome need not be black and white."
Kain hesitated. He had tried not to think too hard about that possibility, but it was unspeakably tempting. The words came slowly. "Cecil and Rosa—they tried—she is trying—to be paragons," he said. "Paragons make good ballads."
"But we do not live in a ballad," Yang finished.
Kain knew it was stupid, knew that he would betray a weakness in Baron's rulership if he asked, but as Cecil had been fond of insisting, these were their friends—Yang would likely not betray his trust. "How do you do it?" he asked, or more likely choked out, the words disconnected and harsh.
Yang shook his head. "The outcome is not always black and white," he said. "There is what I aspire to be, and what I realistically can do. I do not do it alone; Yinyi helps a great deal, as do the other monks." He paused. "A king's word is final, but he does not act alone."
Kain thought of the uneasy balance between himself and Rosa, each pulling in a different direction. "Compromises," he said eventually.
"Just so." Yang rose and made him a polite bow. "Good night, Kain."
"Good night," Kain said. Though he banked the fire and went to bed, he stared for a long time up at the stars overhead, wondering how best to impart that lesson to Jalen.
He slept poorly and woke groggy at dawn. During his self-imposed exile, he had enjoyed watching the sun come up over the mountain; it had lost none of its power in the thirteen years since he had left. The mountain was still forbidding, but in a way that seemed somewhat more approachable. He wondered if Scarmiglione's power yet lurked here, if that taint had begun to undermine the holiness of KluYa's sanctuary. Perhaps Solon knew of a way to address that issue, if it should even be addressed.
Jalen crawled out of his bedroll with his hair mussed enough to do the spikiest-crested chocobo proud. After that it did not take long for their little party to prepare for the day and tidy up their campsite; likely they would return here after the climb.
Towering columns of flame blocked their ascent, as they had when Kain had descended from the mountain so long ago. Jalen studied the flames for quite some time before asking Rydia if she would be so kind as to tame them. When she did, something prickled along the back of Kain's neck that had naught to do with Blizzara spells. He tried to shake it off, but it lingered.
They left their chocobos tethered near the base of the mountain, as the birds were not very sure-footed on rock, and began the long climb. It was a quiet journey, apart from Edge's stream of inappropriate wisecracks—which Rydia did not bother to dignify with a response most of the time—and the calling out of battle plans when they found monsters to slay. Kain tried to remember if the quantity of enemies was similar to when he had left, but the intervening years made it difficult to say with certainty. Jalen's white magic seemed stronger than Cecil's had, though his sword skills were less powerful; Kain wondered if there was some kind of limit to the extent of one's skill that kept one from excelling too much when one tried to pursue multiple paths.
They paused to rest when they reached the flat plateaus, and for the most part the creatures kept away from them. In the years since they had fought Zemus, the incidents of monsters attacking people simply for being present had diminished, as their nations had grown safer; Baron's army spent more time clearing out goblin infestations than it did preparing for war, and for that, Kain was grateful. That seemed to be less true here on Mount Ordeals, but Kain was certain that the monsters were at the least less aggressive.
They reached the bridge where Cecil said he had fought Scarmiglione, and paused to rest in the safe zone one last time. Jalen stared across the bridge to the other peak, where KluYa's sanctuary seemed to glow white in the midday sun.
"You sure about this?" Edge asked him, saving Kain from having to do the same. "You don't have to, you know. You've got time."
"I know I am young, Uncle Edge," Jalen said, as dignified as he could manage, "but I want to do this."
"Whenever you're ready, then," Rydia said. "We will be with you."
Jalen smiled, a little uncertainly, and hugged her. She smoothed his hair and he pulled away, scowling, which made them all laugh. Then he straightened his shoulders and turned toward the sanctuary. "Must I leave my sword outside?" he asked.
"I don't know," Kain said. "Your father said that his armor vanished after—well. After. None of us were there with him." He glanced at Edge and Rydia for confirmation, and they nodded.
Jalen considered this. "I think I must go as myself, then, not as rank and wealth have aided me," he said, and started to remove his armour.
Kain was surprised, but perhaps he should not have been. He helped Jalen out of his armaments, and then the four of them formed something of an honour guard, just in case anything chose to attack on the way across the bridge. Their caution turned out to be unwarranted, and they reached the shrine without incident.
"Take all the time you need," Rydia told Jalen.
He nodded and squared his shoulders, and approached the shrine slowly. He paused and seemed almost ready to look back, but instead he reached out and pushed at the weighted door. It swung inward slowly, and Jalen stepped inside.
The door swung shut.
Silence stretched between them, thin and brittle as spun glass, and Kain watched the door. There was no movement, no sound, no fluctuation in the lunar light that radiated from the shrine even in brilliant sunlight.
"Do you know how long this takes?" Edge asked Kain, waving vaguely at the shrine.
"I am unsure," Kain replied. "I never asked Cecil, and I did not attempt this myself."
"It takes as long as it takes," Yang said.
Edge stared at him in blatant disbelief. "Yang. Seriously? That's all you've got?"
"No, that makes sense," Rydia said. "For one person, it might take five minutes; for another, a day. We do not know which case will apply here."
Edge sighed and folded down to sit on the stone, stretching until his muscles and tendons crackled audibly. "Well, then, I guess we wait," he said.
Kain remained standing, like an honour guard, as did Yang. Rydia eventually seated herself next to Edge, but kept her gaze trained on the entrance to the shrine. The thought of what to do if Jalen did not emerge hung unspoken between them all like the axe Golbez had suspended over Rosa when she was held captive in the Tower of Zot. None of them would speak of it, but the question was there nonetheless.
A half-hour passed, and then an hour. Shadows began to slant across the mountaintop as the sun slowly sank. By mid-afternoon, Kain was finding it difficult to remain outside; he longed to go check on Jalen, but was afraid of the consequences if he interrupted the ritual. Jalen was too young. He should have waited, and come back when he was sixteen. Kain should not have permitted this at all—though he knew, in his heart, that he could hardly have stopped it.
Edge stirred. Kain turned sharply, one hand lifted to silence the words that he was afraid Edge was about to speak, and the King of Eblan shook his head, frowning.
The door opened.
Jalen staggered out, blinking dazedly in the sunlight and unsteady on his feet. Kain leapt forward to help him. He leaned against Kain, an oddly comforting weight, and laughed a little unevenly. "That was...really hard," he said.
"Do you require treatment?" Kain asked, the words too formal but all he could shape.
Jalen shook his head. "I—that. That was my grandfather?" He tried to straighten, and wobbled badly before he finally stood steady. "That's a little scary."
"So are you a paladin or did you just get kicked out and told to stay off Grandpa's doorstep?" Edge asked. His tone was kinder than the words would suggest.
"I am a paladin," Jalen said, and there was a world full of wonders in his voice. "I passed the trial." He staggered again. "I'm also really hungry," he said, somewhat plaintively, and the silence was broken with laughter while Edge rummaged in their pack for some travel rations.
Jalen having been fed and armed once more, they prepared to leave. Kain looked back at the windswept mountaintop, wondering why he did not feel anything more after standing here where he had lived for two years, but the stone held no answers for him.
"Did you want to try, Uncle Kain?" Jalen asked. "I am sorry, it was thoughtless of me to assume."
"No," Kain said.
Jalen frowned. "Why not?" he asked. "You lived here for two years, and you never did—why not then, why not now?"
Yang opened his mouth, perhaps to caution Jalen against asking such questions, and Kain shook his head to forestall it. "When I was here before, I did not feel I deserved the opportunity," he said, and ignored Edge's long-suffering sigh and excessively obvious eye-rolling. "Now, I do not need it. I do not think it appropriate to seek powers of which I have no need."
Jalen frowned. "Are you sure you're not just making excuses?" he asked.
Kain could not help himself; he glared at Rydia, who was covering her mouth to try to contain her laughter.
"Jalen, that's not fair," Edge said.
"It is a legitimate question," Kain said tiredly. "I do not know, Jalen. I do not think so. Once I would have wanted to claim holy powers, to prove—I don't know what I wanted to prove. That I could overcome the taint of serving Golbez, perhaps, or to prove I was worthy to be my father's son. But I do not think I require that power, now; I prefer to make my own way."
Jalen frowned. "Do you think I am—relying overmuch on outside power?" he asked uncertainly.
Kain shook his head. "I said only that it was not right for me, Jalen. If it had not been right for you, you would not now bear that blade." He nodded toward the sword Cecil had once carried, that had been safely stored in Baron Castle after Cecil's death, and now gleamed moon-bright in Jalen's hand, though they had left it in the Castle when they sailed. Magic was strange like that.
Jalen turned the sword slowly in his hands, watching light run off it like water. The sinuous curves of the dragon carved into the hilt shimmered. Carefully he sheathed it. "If you are certain," he said, "then let us go."
"I am certain." Kain did not look back again as they descended the mountain, and though Jalen cast him many curious looks, he said nothing.