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Author of 13 Stories |
Author's Note: Okay, for this chapter, you gotta remember the Feywood. Do you recall wondering through there, and constantly seeing flashes of images (such as your reflection)? Well that plays a major part of this chapter. FOR THIS STORIES PURPOSE, THE MIST NOT ONLY LETS YOU SEE REFLECTIONS, BUT ALSO CAUSES YOU TO HALLUCINATE. I think that’s cool.
P.S. The Feywood was my favorite place in the game. Mirrorknights equal mad cash.
C A R N I V O R E
Chapter Twelve: Being Alone Is Prison
All of my life I was in hiding
Wishing there was someone just like you
Now that you're here, now that I've found you
I know that you're the one to pull me through
-Deliver Me
A chill ran up his spine. The Feywood spooked him. A strange area of living and decaying nature, it housed sand and water and ice. It was capable of altering one’s sense of visual and mental perception, and Basch was one to want to let his sleeping beasts lie dormant.
Instinctively, he pulled hard at his chains which held him, wondering where his captors had gone. Had they abandoned him? Were they coming back to end his life? The chains were strong, and his efforts to free himself were in vain. Because he was so weak from battle, he was left no choice but to rest against the tree and wait for whatever doom was coming for him.
He visibly shook from dehydration and lack of blood. His teeth chattered as he waited. Fortunately, he didn’t wait for long. For Gallus soon approached him, his face emotionless as he looked on at his swollen and bruised handiwork. Instantly, Basch tried to break his chains in order to reach and destroy the younger man.
“You.” The word that ripped from Basch’s throat was filled with anger.
Gallus acted surprised. He placed his hands innocently against his chest. “Me?”
Basch snarled, “King slayer. I will kill you.”
His captor was amused. “Were you this hostile towards your dear twin brother- the other King slayer? Were you not the one who executed him for the murder of King Raminas?”
He believes me to be Gabranth, Basch realized. He thought it best to allow Gallus to continue to believe that lie. For now.
Indeed, the tale had been that Judge Gabranth had been the executioner of Basch. However, nobody had known that the two were siblings. But Gallus somehow knew.
“Aye,” Basch admitted with a low nod. He kept his eyes heavy on Gallus, searching for any kind of weakness. “And should I think to take my own brother’s life, how well do you think you shall fare against my blade?”
“Should you even free yourself from your bonds,” Gallus reminded him, a small smile forming over his handsome face as he glanced towards Basch’s chained arms.
Basch had been imprisoned before, and therefore understood the great difficulties that there was in breaking chain. He knew he would never free himself, especially since he was already disoriented from blood loss. A moment of silence passed between the two, and then Gallus shrugged.
“I will take my leave of you,” he explained with a wave of his hand. “The mist will do the interrogation for me, lest I feel inclined to dirtying my hands.”
“Interrogation?” inquired the beaten ex-knight quizzingly.
Gallus chuckled deeply. “I shall return tomorrow and receive all the answers I desire.”
With that, Gallus pivoted and dashed off, quickly vanishing from Basch’s sight into the sea of mist. Basch relaxed back against the tree, glancing around him. The sounds of mysterious, mutated creatures filled his ears, and he shivered yet again. The monsters in the Feywood were ferocious, and Basch doubted he would live to see Gallus’ return.
Still, he didn’t understand. How could mist interrogate me?
To his right rested a pool of shimmering water. Basch knew that it contained vast amounts of mist and normally he would never think of drinking it. However, his feeling of thirst was so great that he wished to the Gods he could reach the liquid. When he leaned over and tried, his arms came up just short. He was left feeling without hope for survival. And so he sat, breathing deeply and staring out into the mist for hours. He watched as the mist pulsed and vibrated, changing forms and often showing him reflections of his battered self.
Yet three hours into his growing delusion, Basch finally experienced some real hope.
His brother, dressed fully in his Judge’s armor with the exception of his helmet, stepped through the dense mist. At first Basch thought it was another reflection of himself, but when Gabranth dropped to his knees before Basch, he let out a startled cry and forced himself backwards.
“You! You’re alive!” Basch breathed, his eyes wide with shock.
“Of course I am alive,” Gabranth answered, the tone in his voice as condescending as it always had been. “You didn’t think I would go down that easily, did you?”
Gabranth leaned towards Basch, and Basch could clearly see that the outline of Gabranth’s body was shimmering and releasing spores of mist. However, Basch thought nothing of this, and truly believed that his brother was indeed kneeling before him. Everything about Gabranth looked so vivid and real.
He is alive, Basch thought in excited disbelief. Now I can clear my conscience and go free!
“Brother,” Basch told him quietly. “I have failed you. The young Lord... he... He was slain. I could not protect him as I promised you.”
“Lord Larsa?” questioned Gabranth, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Puzzled, Basch’s brother turned slightly and looked back over his shoulder. “Your Majesty, I’ve found Basch! This way!”
If possible, Basch’s eyes widened further. He leaned left, eyes searching through the dense mist. Sure enough, Larsa himself stepped through the curtain of mist. Once he spotted Basch, the young boy’s eyes lit up with glee and he dashed forward to Basch’s side.
“My Liege!” Basch managed to choke out, suddenly overcome with relief to see that the boy was alive.
Larsa’s eyes scanned over Basch’s imprisoned body. He frowned slightly, then reached a white gloved hand out and rested it gently on Basch’s right forearm. The touch was so light that Basch could not feel it, and had he not seen Larsa touch him, he would have doubted he had been touched at all.
“You are wounded,” Larsa expressed sadly. “Forgive me. I should not have allowed them to take you. I had to pretend to have been slain, you see. I had to draw the enemy out.”
Basch ignored Larsa’s sympathy and reached out to touch Larsa. “Majesty, how? I saw your body. I saw the blood.”
Basch’s hand entered Larsa’s chest, and Larsa shimmered brightly. Basch’s hand had completely gone through Larsa as if he was made of air. Horrified, Basch retracted his arm, looking down at his hand as if he had dipped it into acid.
He glanced back up at Larsa, whose expression was still cheerless. “What trickery is this!?”
“Basch, we must ask you something very important,” Gabranth said sternly. Basch quickly turned his head and met his brother's impatient eyes.
“My hand--” Basch began.
“A simple trick, but there is no time for us to explain,” Gabranth interrupted. He leaned forward, his face inches away from Basch’s. Basch could feel Gabranth’s breath hot on his cheek. Or wait, no, was that the feel of mist?
“It is imperative you answer. Is Queen Ashelia working with the Empire? Is she planning to attack Rozarria?”
Basch blinked, breathing hard. “Working with the Empire? They are allies, as she is allied with Rozarria.” He paused, confused. “What is this? Should you not know that Lady Ashe is allied with you?”
He turned towards Larsa. “You and her Majesty are friends, correct?"
Larsa's expression turned grim. "No longer."
As he turned to look back at his brother, Gabranth suddenly turned transparent. Basch could see right through him, and he suddenly looked like an image that the mist had created. Distraught, Basch pulled back.
"What is wrong?" Gabranth questioned, but now his voice sounded as faded as he looked.
"Y-you..." Basch struggled to say, dizziness beginning to set into his bones.
"Basch, will Queen Ashelia attack Rozarria?" Gabranth demanded again.
This time, he reappeared more vividly than normal. His figure was so bright that Basch found himself squinting as he stared at him.
An illusion, Basch finally realized. That is why my hand passed through Larsa. They are illusions created by the mist.
"You are not real," Basch uttered, not hiding the disappointment in his voice. He let his head sink down to his chest.
"Answer the question," Gabranth snapped, obviously losing patience.
"You are not real!" Basch shouted out, throwing himself forward against his chains. His arms stretched out as far as they could go, he threw himself against Gabranth. As he collided, he found that Gabranth was made of nothing but mist, and evaporated as soon as Basch entered him.
Once Gabranth was gone, Basch turned and did the same to the startled looking Larsa.
"Wait, no!" the fake Larsa cried out, raising an arm to defend himself. But he, too, turned into dust.
Breathing hard, Basch collapsed back down onto his butt, placing his head in his hands. He was shaking intensely, finding himself wrought with grief that his dead brother and Emperor had falsely manifested before him. The mist was cruel, and all at once Basch remembered the feeling he felt when Larsa had died: the pain, the despair, and knowing that he had failed his brother and all of Archadia.
Forcing back a dry sob, Basch lowered his hands from his face and looked ahead of him. He gasped, seeing that the scene had changed before him. The mist had turned his outdoor Feywood world into the cell in which he had been imprisoned for two years. He knew exactly what awaited him next: his first meeting with his allies. The mist was somehow playing one of his memories out before him.
Three familiar faces approached his cage: Fran, Balthier, and young Vaan. The first two proceeded in ignoring Basch, but Vaan kept his eyes on him.
Balthier motioned to the surroundings. "What is this place?"
Fran looked down past Basch, peering into the dark abyss that was beneath him. "The mist is flowing through this room. It must be going somewhere."
The words flowed effortlessly from Basch's mouth, the exact same words that he had said over two years ago: "You! You’re no Imperials. Please, you must get me out--"
Balthier quickly interrupted him, but dared not look at him. "It’s against my policy to speak with the dead. Especially when they happen to be King slayers."
Again, Basch released the same words as he had once before: "I did not kill him."
But before Balthier could reply with the same phrase he had used two years ago, Basch tried a different approach. "Balthier, please. We have gone over this before. Gabranth murdered his Majesty. You have to get me out. I fear Gallus may be after the Lady Ashe!"
"You realize of course that the Princess is dead," Balthier told him, still refusing to look at him.
Basch felt his heart skip a beat inside of him at the thought of Ashe being dead, but then quickly dismissed his near panic. He realized, after all, that this was merely his memory being shown before him. To this version of Balthier, Ashe was still thought of as dead.
"But I must protect Dalmasca--" Basch began, but was cut off when an enraged Vaan leapt onto the cage that the mist had given him. Basch winced, knowing all too well the speech that Vaan was about to scream out. The words had wounded him the first time, but this time they didn't effect him at all.
"Dalmasca? What do you care about Dalmasca! Everything that’s happened is because of you! Everyone that’s died, every single one! Even my brother. You killed my brother!"
Basch let Vaan have his rant. It doesn't matter, he thought numbly. None of this matters. It is only the mist. They aren't real. I am alone. This is only my mind playing tricks on me.
"Vaan, yelling does not solve anything," Basch told him sternly.
Vaan paused, staring in disbelief at him. His memory changed as Basch distorted his dialog. "How did you know my name?"
Having enough of his vision, Basch closed his eyes tightly, only to hear Vaan question him again. He willed himself to make the vision go away. He told himself that this wasn't real.
When he opened his eyes, the trio was gone, as was his cage. He was back in the Feywood again. Sighing with relief, he closed his eyes once more. He wanted to prevent any more illusions, and so he would simply keep his eyes closed.
After a few minutes, his exhaustion overtook him, and he fell asleep.
Ashe!
When he recognized her, Basch nearly jumped to his feet. But his weakness was worsening, and all he could do was just sit against the tree. As he watched her stumble by him, not knowing that he was there, he knew she was simply a figment of his imagination, expelled from his thoughts by the dense mist.
His dead brother threatening him had been terrifying. Vaan screaming at him had been heartbreaking. What woes would Ashe release upon me, he wondered. Still, it was her. It was his Ashe. Even if she was a false image, even if she would just yell at him, seeing her would give him comfort in his slow death.
"Hello," he called out dazedly.
She whirled around to face him, her mouth falling open with shock. When she recognized that it was him sitting there, she let out a little gasp and dropped her sword. She dashed forward, dropping to her knees before him, just as Gabranth had done.
A bubble of laughter escaped his parched throat. "The same entrance as Gabranth. You would think the mist capable of creating something new. How terribly dull."
A look of pure confusion passed over Ashe's pretty face, and Basch managed a dry laugh again. "Come, Ashe. Vaan relayed his message of hate, and Gabranth his message of inquiry. What more torture could you put upon me? Here to tell me how much you hate me?"
Her mouth moved open and closed, but no sound came out. Basch let out an annoyed grunt, sitting up and pushing himself nearer to her. "How dull. At least the other illusions came with voices. Perhaps you are the pleasant illusion, here to satisfy me instead."
Tired and feeling near insane, Basch decided that if he was going to die in the Feywood, he would at least try to have some fun. He let his head fall forward, lips pursed, and kissed his false image of Ashe.
Except she did not vaporize as did Gabranth and Larsa. Her lips were warm entities against his mouth. Astounded, he pulled his face away from hers. Her expression was filled with bewilderment.
"What are you doing?" She asked, her blue eyes wide.
What form of mist manifestation is this! Basch's mind whirled, and he feared that he had gone completely insane. Have I completely snapped and associated feel with visionary illusion? He recalled how he had felt Gabranth's breath warm on his face, and Larsa's hand on his arm.
His face gravely serious, he looked Ashe up and down. She is an illusion. It doesn't matter. Being alone is prison, but this illusion can make me feel better.
Excited to the thought that he could touch his visions, he reached out and grabbed Ashe around her waist. She released a startled cry and as he yanked hard on her and tumbled forward into his tired arms. Grabbing her hair and yanking her head back, he forced his mouth hard against hers. Her hands flew up to his chest in a weak attempt to push him back, but he kept his latch on her strong. He bit her lower lip, dug his nails passionately into the soft skin on the back of her neck, and kissed her harder than he had ever kissed anyone. If this is my last kiss- even should it be from a false image- I may as well make it a good one.
But it wasn't fake, and Ashe quickly made him aware of that. She shoved him hard with all her might, and he was weak enough that it sent him falling backwards. From on the ground, he looked up at her, feeling startled.
Illusions can't hurt you! But she did!
"What in the hell are you doing," Ashe cried out, raising her hands to her obviously aching lips.
"You are not real," Basch explained. "Just an illusion created by the mist."
"I am most certainly not an illusion," she retorted angrily. "I came here to save you, Basch. What is going on?"
He narrowed his eyes, peering at her carefully. No spores of mist were omitted from her body. She didn't shimmer as the others had done. She wasn't overly bright. She hadn't vaporized. Basch's eyes widened with disbelief when he realized that she truly was there.
Oh, Gods. I kissed her! She is real and I kissed her in such a barbaric way!
Humiliated, he dropped his head down and avoided her gaze. He focused instead on his chain-bound wrists.
"Basch?" she questioned uncertainly.
Taking a deep breath in order to steady himself, he looked back up to her. "Gallus will be back for me in the morning. Lady Ashe, you must free me. I am too weak and cannot do it myself."
"Of course," she whispered, her face etched with concern. She kneeled beside him and set work on freeing him from his chains.
All the while, he avoided her eyes.
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