Midnight, June 26th

...

— Hey, Sig...

— What's it, my Prince? Still awoke this hour of the new day?

— Sig... could you, uh, please...

— Yes?

— Could you tell me... tell me about who I am?

— Who are you? Something is bothering you, isn't, my Prince?...

— ...

— ...You are awfully quiet, for a Prince who once spent this same night to cry for attention, while lying on that crib. Who are you, you've asked. Your name is Gabriel. Son of King Stephanus, the youngest brother of a family of six siblings, the last child given to this world by Racquel, whom I had the pleasure to take care of since the day the Queen whispered of the last words. Ever since the day you were born at the palace, when your father went away to a fight, I spent the time of mine to teach you, my Prince. Edgar, as the eldest one, claimed the crown to his own, but you, like your siblings, is destined to heir the crown someday.

— So, Sig... It's been a long time. Yes, I understood who am I. A Prince. My brother used to be a Prince as well. Now he's the King, and when he dies for good, I shall take its place, for the sake of father. Things seemed much easier when I was a child, when he was a child. Easier to learn, easier to understood, I had no pressure given by that time, unlike this one where I stand. You, Sigurd, used to take care of me when father wasn't there. From the day he never came back, you still stood with me. Even if I, the Prince, had on my reach the nursemaids who took care and feeded my brothers, the duke, who taught Edgar how to become a king since he had 5, the Senate, who ruled for a brief time before Edgar reached its 14, the Dragoon Knights who protected us as the infantry... We had the entirety of Burmecia on our palms, since the day before we learned to walk. And still we have it, for generations.

— Yes. Kain, our first King; you, and my brother, both share of his blood. Now I remembered... before you slept, I used to tell you a story... Might if I tell you once again, but this time, shall it be told into another way?

— 'Another way'? I'm interested. Come on, Sig.

— Very well.

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♫Yasunori Mitsuda - Ties of Sea and Flames/Bonds of Sea and Fire♫

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...

The story is said to have started in the Year 0. While the remaining population of the kingdoms that would became Alexandria, Lindblum and Treno builted new reigns over the Mist, our nomadic ancestors rebelled one against other, and later succumbed themselves to a warfare that culminated into their shatter. T he remaining Vastitas were forced to become from nomads to sedentary people, now fragmented into small reigns, ruled by one leader. Those small reigns used to constantly hate deep in the heart and fought against each other, on what seemed to be a perpetual state of chaos and disorder. During that period, the people belonging from Bulu were living at the peak of their lives, living of the Frater doctrine, where everyone is equally like a brother of another, while the ones left under the Mist became barbarians, often invading the cities and stealing goods from their inhabitants. They became know as the Vastitas, because of the desolation they left after their attacks and their emptiness of such a thing called piety.

...

— The Vastitas... they were violent.

— They never cry for themselves or ever cried for their comrades. Throught history, they were regarded as the true monsters lying down below the Mist; a major threat to be compared with other creatures living under the thick layer of Mist, such as the Lizard Men, nearly driven to extinction by the Vastitas, by the way. Furthermore, as the Mist hardened their hearts, the Vastitas became know by survival reports about their cruel torture methods, inserting their spears straight throught their body, until they died of agony, to later use the blood to irrigate their plantations, as the remnats of skin and fat were later offered to their god, and pieces of bones were given to the local Demiurge in order to construct houses and estabilishments. I presume words alone can't describe their violence, my Prince.

— Yes... Sig, do you think we have been returning to their state of mind?

— Never would we. Certainly not, my Prince. We may be part of the infantry, but they aren't as savages as one of our ancestors...

— 'One'?

— Yes, my Prince. You must have forgotten that we, Burmecians, are a product of the blend between the blood of people belongoing to two ethnics. The first are the Vastitas, part of ours, as well as the other people from the civilization of your ancestor...

...

The situation remained unchanged, until 900, the Year said for The Advent be born in Yashar, the main city of Bulu. Ever since his childhood, spent at the church, a child knew by the name of Kain said he had dreams about a floating river, up in the skies. The same dreams his mother once had , before she gave birth to him and passed away, just like his father. On his adulthood, Kain felt for Lucrecia, a woman he knew since he was an infant. He married her and the two had a boy, called Nate. Even thought Kain had planned to spent his live with his wife and son, he still claimed to his people he could hear a voice from his visions. The voice of Bahamut, as he said, heard throught the sound of bells, warned him to flee with his people, the Bulus from the mountains and the Vastitas cursed by the Mist, to another place were their lives would be secured, before the massacre planned by Necro, a self-declared ruler of all Vastitas, deemed to be an immortal, began between both Bulu and Vastita people, with no one dicted as a winner but just carnage and destruction left.

For the Vastitas, wherever it rained, it meant the battle was over, because they believed the sky was about to fall over their heads; since ancient times, Bahamut planned a land immerse on a state of Eternal Rain to end with this threat coming from his own sons, and had choosen the one called by The Advent to serve his purpouse. Kain couldn't do such a measurable thing on his own, so he asked for help. Bahamut described two men to assist Kain on his journey. One, a foreigner whose blood belonged to the sacred Bulu, and the other, whose blood belonged to the Vastita lineage. The descriptions of Bahamut for the first man at Bulu matched with a man called Siegfried, a Chocobo tamer from the Highwind family.

...

— Highwind?

— Is there something in need of an answer, my Prince?

— No, nothing. Just this name... ''Highwind"... it sounds familiar. Are their descendants alive, Sig?

— Maybe. There's a family that claims to belong to the Highwind by blood. Incidentally, there's a man on our side that was born with such surname. As a Prince, you may haven't seem him yet, but tomorrow we'll personally see one and another of your men, Gabriel.

— Yes, I know. Could you tell me more about these 'Highwinds' for me, Sig?

— As you wish.

...

Composed of his father Archibald, his mother Helen, and his younger brother, Baldwin, older than his other infant siblings. The Highwind's ascendants are said to be born at Bulu, but later migrated to other lands. They decided to returned to Bulu, after Siegfried, the eldest one son, claimed to see and listen of the same visions Kain described to them. Kain and Siegfried quickly became friends, and so he, and his family, assisted him to free the Vastitas from the Mist and Necro. Guided by Bahamut's prophetic dreams, they went throught the Mist, facing the utmost of a diversity of enemies, from a fierciful hordes of Fangs to the perverse Vices, until they reached the 12th Vastita reign found, a small settlement knew as Kilde.

Found above the hills like Bulu, near a waterfall whose water supplies its inhabitants, and a fountain at the middle of the city. His citzens, who once lived in other nations, were discontent with the wealth of the other fourteen reigns, allies of Necro, and the imposition of a martial law to opress their thoughts about a a multiple force, higher than a deity, maybe a god, but certainly not a single one, like Bahamut; more likely a stream, attached to the water, symbol of purity and principle of existence, and the living beings, such as the nature around them.

From there, Kain earned the trusted of that people,as much as he gradually earned the trust of a 5-year-old boy, called Gizamaluk. An orphan, like many, left on his own by his parents at the doors of the sanctuary of Kilde. A vagrant child, found wandering near the marketplace, until Kain caught the kid with his head underwater, drowning at the main fountain. Kain asked to him why he would do such a thing that almost took away his life, and Gizamaluk answered that no one else needed him, that he had been such a nuisance like any other kid, and nothing worthy of his small efforts could be able to help the others. At times, he found himself, in silence, glancing at the reflection of his image, even if it took an hour; the static oneself, given over the tiniest water puddle, to the one found at the city's fountain, whose ripples spread throught the round cavity gave it the aspect of the bends of a living portrait. Gizamaluk thought that he could spend his life with the reflection he saw each day on water, ever if it meant to drown in it, because t he reflection of his seemed to be the only thing near him he knew about, unlike his parents, whom he and nobody else never took a clear look, as he does with the figure and only of his projected on water surface.

...

— Projection. The act of mirroring your image onto another. Edgar pretends he can be as father, he acts as my father, he's the son of my father. Unlike him, I'm not resembling of father's. I'm just his son, and nothing else. Thought, I'm just worried as his. Each day, his hair found a way to fall, and his fur detach from the skin, as his sons left to his wife, my mother. How hard it was for mother and her maids to take care of us, this, I'll never know. But I know for sure that mother did her best, when she was still alive. And father...

— I see a bit of Racquel into you, Gabriel. She, like yours, disapproved of how your father led his life, but still she loved him. If it wasn't for the love your mother felt for him, she wouldn't stay in the palace by those days, as she had done, because of the sons who needed to be raised, a way your mother found to feel the same as the love for your father. You loved him too, didn't you?

— Yes. Of course, because he was my father. To think I grew without him... Unlike Gizamaluk, I had you on my side, Sig. Maybe I mirrored a 'father' into you all this time, but this Gizamaluk had no one to mirror him, so he mirrored another 'himself', the one he wished he was. No one to love, besides 'himself' and his 'image'. What do such loneliness do with a kid, I'm glad you took care of me, Sig.

— Yes. Let me continue from where I was...

...

Kain looked upon Gizamaluk and his actions. T o justify that attempt to take over his life in order to get rid of his life as i f it was something right, or something wrong... If it was something done by anger or sadness; not even an adult like Kain was able to decide. He was just like that kid. A kid that grew without a father, or a mother to taught him. He certainly would do the same as the boy, if it wasn't for one thing. Throught all his time spent as an orphan at the streets of Kilde, Gizamaluk had no opportunities left, unlike Kain, who was the only one there to give him one. Just one, that would change his life in a whole. Kain decided to adopt Gizamaluk for the sake of both. To think Kain would go that far to support that stranger child, in order to find a way to relieve his pain. Not only does they never met each other before, he was clearly a descendant of a Vastita, a baby considered weak enough to be left as food for the Grand Dragons across the heights. But that didn't matter anymore.

Since that day, Kain saw throught Gizamaluk as his own son. Even if he wasn't the one who truly conceived him, he felt the need to raise him, because of an invisible bond, the same one he felt throught his mother's arms for a few minutes before she died; the hold of Lucrecia's living hand throught his youth until they day of marriage arrived; and the wrapping of Nate's little arm, like the cloth tied on his tail, to hold his father's finger by pure instinct. That bond began to grow at the start both paths intervened with each other. Like a bird raises his featherless sons until he grew his own plumes and wings, Kain needed to stay with Gizamaluk as a father, until that boy got strong enough learn to fly and face the world and himself on his own.

...

— Gizamaluk and Kain... Father and son... to think I grew mostly with you, Sig. Had you ever wondered why? You, of all people, was chosen to take care of me?

— Prince Gabriel... I never promised anything to your father. Your father always preferred to engage into a fight, instead to learn to take care of his sons. He left other people working for him on the palace to take care of his sons instead of himself. Your mother, on other hand, gave of her last moments for you to be born. The day before the ceremony, I wondered why you, the one who unfortunately Racquel never saw of the face, meant so much for her. Now that I see you, grown up like this, I realized the answer for the why so long I took to find. That's what a reasonable person would do, and so did Kain. I shall proceed, for you to understand of the same matter...

...

Gizamaluk was willing to help in any case, but Siegfried argued to Kain that Gizamaluk wasn't a man enough to be the one Bahamut choose, because he had the knowledge of how someone leads such responsibility. Siegfried told to Kain that, before becoming the oldest brother of his family, he once had an older brother above him, called Ekkehard. The brother of his also saw of the same visions before his sudden demise at the field. He's the one who inspired Siegfried to fight, as he did until the end. Throught the generations, the men of Highwind married once and some died young, for a purpouse. Siegfriend rather ignores the fact of Ekkehard's demise and seems to prefer to focuse on combat instead.

The Highwind family, as it seems, fought for ages to accomplish their goal of secure The Advent to purify the Vastitas souls. Kain learned he wasn't the first one born to be considered The Advent. Eight of them were once protected by the holy sword, called Durandal, whose blade is said to cut throught even the hardest stone of Gaia. Passed down from elder to younger brother, t he presence of Frater was strongly tied to the Highwind ones. If it was an obligation of god or not, the Fate of those people was lying on their task as skilled warriors. So Siegfried was choose to secure the coming of The Advent, in order to honour the name of Ekkehard, the Highwind family. In case Siegfried couldn't accomplish of the same goal and failed as Ekkehard, then Baldwin was his next heir; y et, t o fight for it seemed the only way possible to secure Kain of his own task given by Bahamut.

Fight with swords or with bare hands, each one struggles on their way to find happiness and security. Since that day, t o have an adult like Kain in his accompany, believing in his words whether they were near the truth or the bottom of a lie... Gizamaluk felt he wasn't worthless as once in many years.

...

— A teacher can also learn from its students as well, ain't right, Sig?

— Yes, my Prince.

— You taught me so many things. Basic ones, such as 'don't eat it', for a Prince.

— You may be a Prince, Gabriel, but if it wasn't for someone who taught you an order, certainly you wouldn't be able to stand in there.

— There? I don't want to stay at the field. Never I wanted to be on the same place as father once had been. Here, on the field he died.

— Gabriel, your people need someone like you. Your brother may be in the palace, hid by such a distant boundaries from its people. The reason why he insisted to place you there was because he believe someone as you could maintain contact with the ones he rule. Not only just yor task is to obserb, but to interact with them. Assistance is needed on such times, as your father, for example, once said. That's why he left you with me. You father cared to his people more than he cared for himself, and his sons. This is what Gizamaluk lost in the way, the same valuable thing Kain and Stephanus had in abundance. Even without taking care of his own son, your father believed in someone other than his, because this someone trusted in his words. Racquel may have passed away, but her brother was there to take care of you, Gabriel.

— Sig...

— My Prince. This is just the beginning...

...

Gizamaluk had no idea of how he could find a way to retribute Kain of the same way he did within that afternoon. Later that day, before a night of rest on the nearest inn, plans were made by the Highwind and Kain for both find a way to enter throught the fortified walls of Grignard. Even the mention of that name sent shivers of fear over all their bodies. The main ca pital of the Vastitas, center of their bloody dynasty, where the true evil was lying all along, inside those fortified walls around that tower higher than the sky of Bahamut above, to send his people against the wall, and no consequences at all.

Since the day Necro usurped of the throne and declared himself to be the leader of the Vastitas by instituting a martial law, riots were spread throught the capital, and the calamity brought by the revolting ones made them split into two factions: The Red Masks, followers of Necro's ideals of conquer and glory of the civilization throught an enduring domain instaured througth 7 of the 12 reigns; and the Black Masks, composed by the ones rebelling against Necro, mainly fugitives, represented by the cities of Kilde and Klaire. Both cities were founded above the Mist by a group of fugitives, secured by the Black Masks, also belonging to the same sect. Currently under a siege, Kilde gave all support for Klaire, the 11th reign.

Since all major routes connecting the city to the outside world had been cut or blocked by the Vastitas soldiers on guard, the people of Kilde found a way to offer water and food supplies for the Klaireans from a secret route, whose entrance was found unnexpectely by a child, who had blown up a crumbled wall alongside the route once used by Kilde with a Dead Pepper, a plant mainly found below the Mist, his fruits commonly raised and carried by the Vastitas because they perish after maturity, and their unstable seeds works as some kind of explosive when sprout with contact, being harmful within the range of explosion and speed of the throw. The nearest you are from one, the unsafest will be your later condition. The tunnel seemed to connect both cities into each one's cathedrals throught a tunnel, once dug by the extinct Mole Man society, who used to live around Gaia centuries before the invention of writing. Unfortunaly, Kilde is currently demanding of the same food once given by the neighboors of Klaire, and due to the shortage of resources and the constant city growth, famine is being feared by the main population of Kilde as well.

For a moment, Gizamaluk fled from the room, and w hen he returned, Kain noticed his feet was burned, pitch black and gray. Kain was about to ask why, when he and Gizamaluk, alongside Siegfried, went outside. On that evening, they saw throught the inn's door a group of people, from around the city of Kilde, reunited across the central fountain, illuminated by the lights of the fire. On each 4 years, g uided by the local Priest or Priestess, they reunited around the fountain to commemorate with the rites of passage, alongside the dance, the painting, the music, the arts... t hose and others mysterious things.

Chaotic as the fire spread under the feet of those, kids and adults, walking in burning coal and ashes to test their courage, a custom inherited from the Vastitas, whose Fire is the symbol of endurance, yet as beautiful as the women dressed in orange and peach bedlahs, dancing to celebrate the good harvest, wishing for their husbands and sons to come back soon. Sometimes, they make people remember things that were not expect to be remembered, regardless of whether they desire to remember them or not. To bring up memories of such everlasting thoughts, feelings, emotions; at times, they cheered up as friends in the past, while at other times, they would cry of anxiety and uncertainty about the future. In the middle of a major internal crisis, the faith of those people, jaded of breathing in fumes, is tied into an invisible creed, a stream connecting both Kilde and Klaire, like a force polarized into all beings, like pillars sustaining the bridge of a river, whose water is the vital element for each life on the planet.

After a night of sleep, Kain and Siegfried reunited on Kilde's cathedral, to gather more information about the Vastitas and more about the Red and Black Masks factions. They learnt from Priestess Berkana that t he Red Masks, whose leader is a man by the name of Frigg, are known by this name because of the color of the mask and the velvet wore on their bodies. Whoever touched or had contact with their pieces of clothes for a long time in battle would be infected by the pox. For generations, the Vastitas had been trained to became immune of that disease, and since them, they used it on their advantage. Unlike the Red Masks, none of the Black Masks wear black. That's a common designation given by the Vastitas for any habitant, or captive, who fled from Grignard and lived with the absence of Mist, the essence of their passion with death. All Vastitas and his descendants that remained in Grignard had colorless eyes and gray to white hair, due to the contact with Mist enduring generations, unlike Kilde and Klaire's population, whose residents had color on their eyes, like Gizamaluk's green ones, because of their time spent above the Mist. They also believe the Past lives above, in front of the road, and the Future is below, behind.

Being subordinates of Necro, who joined with Hades, the legendary weapon synthetizer from the underworld, the Red Masks have on their possession a stimulant drug, called 'Drive'. Produced from the seeds of red poppies, simmered and drank like Bulu chai, the 'Drive' is responsible to enhance their vision, agility, response time , energy produced by the muscles, and pyshical damage improved two or three times than before. Its use implemented after the result of riots spread throught the capital, the frenzy, split-second feeling given by the drug seemed to be a way to partially 'break their limits', to awaken the mythical 'Trance', the same who once lied on the souls of thousands of deceased Berserkir units, awaiting for their spirits to be incarnate underneath the flesh of a living one. Anything done under the 'Drive' over-stimulates the body, generating negative sympthons of fatigue, immobility and disorders, such as irritability and the act of self-injury by overage dosage of the 'Drive', as reported by Black Mask units in the field.

With the information given, Kain and Siegfried, alongside two Black Mask units handed over by Berkana, followed themselves to the road to Klaire, while Gizamaluk remained at Kilde's inn. Kain didn't wanted that kid to risk his life once again, like he did before twice. But when did ever since Kain risked his life? The others had done it so for him until now. Kain had no use for weapons, so Siegfried was the one who secured his life and Kain's with Durandal, the holy sword whose blade is said to cut throught even the hardest stone of Gaia. Kilde is struggling to maintain the trade route with Klaire, even if it meant an urge of starving and decrease of production from the city itself; Gizamaluk willed to cross the path of rocks set ablaze, in order to show the one he call by father he was useful and brave to bear with the pain; Even Lucrecia, who was awaiting for Kain at Bulu, taking care of Nate on her own for this time being since them. On behalf, what else Kain could do for those kind souls besides reunite the tribes of the same race for once?

Fight, with bare hands or not, was his only choice, in order to put an end to the atrocities of Vastitas. From the tunnel connecting both cities, Kain and the party reached Klaire at once. There, they felt on an ambush, planned by those two Black Mask units, whose revealed to be deserted by a generous offer from Necro himself, since any other Vastita would be recognized by the color of their eye and hair. Priest Erasmus had already been taken care off their way before Kain could intervene, so he and Siegfried were captured by the Vastitas units at the cathedral and later were sent to prison, the place where the commander of Red Masks awaited for them.

Dressed in crimson armor, covered in red clothes, a white and soft scarf made of the same wrapped clothes on the neck, scars on both hands and feets , presumably a wound left on the field by a brave soldier or a fool enough to be called by brave, handling a spear with the left arm, he was defined by h is grasp and rude attitude of his eyebrows frown, contrary to the trim composture left; a genuine Red Mask, called by Frigg. At least, for a brief moment, they thought Frigg was a man, but inside that rusty armor, beyond the mask taken by those arms from the hidden face of his, was lying the body of a maiden. The femme fatale, known by her own men because of what happened by those who stepped on her shadow. Only a squalid like the one who tried to cut her eye would do that, like Gizamaluk.

Since Kain left him on the inn, Gizamaluk followed throught his steps on the way to Klaire, in order to find the one who was supposed to take care of him since them. When Gizamaluk stepped on Frigg's shadow, she did nothing. Instead of cutting the boy's tongue or ears, she only turned back and stared at him, like he did with the swinging keys lying above her waist. A small effort that ended up into another captive; Gizamaluk jumped onto Frigg, who grabbed him and locked all his hopes within that cell. At least, Gizamaluk wasn't alone. At least, he was closer of Kain this time. Even thought they were on adjacent cells, Gizamaluk's thoughts could be perceived by Kain's look. What would that boy become without a soul like Kain?

...

— Lenneth...

— What is it, my Prince?

— This Frigg you mentioned, Sig... I just remembered something. No, someone. It's a woman, who used to be a member of the Dragoon Knights. Maybe it's because of the color she wore, the red, but for a moment, I... well, let's just forget it. And, about Gizamaluk... My answer is that he would become nothing, if no one else could intervene, but the liberty of his wandering around was nothing, without someone as well...

— I'm here if you want, my Prince.

— Yes, Sig. You're with me. For such a long time. Each one is born in parts, and throught time, they become a whole, as they say.

— Ahem...

...

Gizamaluk bravely raised himself throught these years, with only a part of him remaining. The uncertainty about his parents whereabouts grew on his mind, within the reminiscence of something he took out from Frigg, concealed under his chest, an aching on his heart, the itchy of his skin... Later that night, Gizamaluk felt ill. When Frigg came to see his condition, secluded on that cell, a piece of red cloth was found above his chest, with small bubbles erupting on the skin below. No doubt he has been infected by the pox, for a long period, without even knowing it.

That poor boy... Kain could not bear the harm he considered to be caused by his fault. Had him obeyed and remained at inn, he would not have been contaminated by the disease. All Gizamaluk did was in order to find a place to belong, with Kain. Even risk his short life, if needed, to find that same place, no matter what way it took, expected, or sadly, unnexpected. Luckily, the treatment for the pox was at Pathos, a small village, the 8th reign founded by the Vastitas. Frigg was the one who told it so, w hile holding of the seemingly letargic infant over her shoulder, before that remnant of infected cloth had been burned by her, o n an attempt to make amends and comfort Kain's thoughts, to make him see her less of a threat to be taken care off and put the blame on herself, as i f it was her own fault that brought the unfortunate consequence.

Why would she do that; Kain had not a single answer let. Not even Siegfried, since that kind of behaviour wasn't natural for a Vastita who lived all this time lingering with the side effects of Mist. That hair, white as the snowfields covering dead trees, seemed alive when slightly touched by Gizamaluk. Those concerned eyes trembled, trying to leak out a single tear, but instead, Frigg remained in countenance, quiet and on such a cool, allowing the contact of that being from the lands above with a being whose life had been spent on the Mist for this long. T he scars left from the tips of the enemies arrows and javelins noticed by Kain all over her arms, head and neck's skin meant nothing compared to the wound left on Gizamaluk.

...

— Father also carried scars on his skin. I remember when he used to came back. You was there, as well. Always there.

— The battle has its cost, Gabriel. Your father knew it.

— Not only father, but... Brandford. The Major who followed him. He was the one with more scars left. Compared to Brandford, the scars of father seemed insignificant. The one who truly fought was that Brandford. Father... he only stared at his men, didn't he?

— Even if it was the truth, your father cared for this country. Had he fought for it with the sword of his or had he left the javelins be thrown by the others; he was the King, and as a King, he knew, 'right' or 'wrong', what to do on such situation. We'll never know if he was worthy or unworthy of being a King, but those are just words. A King is a King, not the Kings. He's an individual as well, has it's own feelings, emotions... but a King has the duty to do what seems more relevant to its people, even if resulting on the death of hundred, or the deploit of resources. To carry on with the responsibility of the scars carried by Brandford is the result of being a leader. As the pain Gizamaluk felt by Kain, failure will stiffle you, Gabriel, as much is stiffling Edgar, but as a King, he won't let it persist.

— Continue...

— What?... Yes. I'll do.

...

With the boy's life on peril, Frigg then fred Kain, the responsible for taking care of Gizamaluk, from his cell, as Siegfried remained like the other prisioners. From there, they headed to Pathos, the birthplace of many Red Masks, such as Frigg. It was a question of time for they to reach the city before the situation of Gizamaluk worsened. Fortunately, with the movement of both enhanced by a single 'Drive' taken, the trip ended just in time enough. Founded above the ruins of Guerinika, the soil sowed by the seeds of kudzu and buildings covered by radius of its vines, Pathos was living on days of glory since the increase of 'Drive' trade in exchange of gil, the currency stolen from the travellers and wandering ones from above the Mist. When asked by her officers and subordinates around the city about Kain and the child, all Frigg told them was the same excuse of transfering approval of both prisioners into her thralls for good behavior, a kind of ownership that wouldn't fool anyone, but who else was willing to question Frigg, the skillful high ranked Red Mask commander, perhaps? Nobody with sense would disagree with her.

The treatment given to pox, as listed by the doctor Frigg knew since youth, consisted on resting over a bed, whose tissue on the first day is slightly taken by pox, whose quantity increases with the days. Like warfare, the best strategy with more chance of success is to attack the enemy by surprise. The body also learns with the victories and mistakes as well; b y drinking some Ether during meals , the patient would have some more energy left to maintain his strenght in order to combat the remaining pox, until it vanquishes as a whole and the body learnt how to prevent it. On that way, throught generations, the Vastitas became inmune of many diseases.

For a moment, Frigg took out her look from Gizamaluk to focuse on the statue at the center of Pathos. It was a statue of a Grignard commander, well-regarded by the local population and the entirety of the empire. He was knew as Gareth. Handling of the Gungnir with his arm, regarded as the spear that brought the lives of hundreds, Gareth was once a child born on a family belonging to the last inhabitants of Guerinika, a city full of deserters before the Vastitas slaughtered them, with the remaining ones becoming their slaves. When he grew up, he was forced to fight in the Gimnos battling arena, for the amusement of the crowd. Those people fought each other naked because the Vastitas believed that no armor could protect you if the end of our life had been already been decided based on the judgement of gods.

Ending up victorious after he reluctantly fought a hundred ones falling in a row, Gareth conquered his liberty and with it he became the former commander of King Matheus army and personal security force; furthermore, he also was nominated as an official mentor of Pathos Jugend, in order to train rookies into new soldiers or Red Mask units. Then, on a certain day, another civil outbreak rise and had fallen in Grignard, together with the corpse of Gareth, who died in a miserable way like his comrades. Yet, until now, people regarded him for his done acts, still inspiring many to become a warrior like him since them. The armor he once carried is now wore by each ruler of Grignard that succeded Matheus since them, in a sign of respect.

...

— Edgar is now carrying of father's armor, and his sword. He respected him, as much as me and my other siblings. Besides the blood, we carry on within us his will to continue fighting, as he once fought for us. It's painful for me to believe such man I barely saw with my eyes is gone, as mother.

— ...

...

With the years, the story and aftertaste left by Gareth mixed with the rumours Kain heard to be spread by people, such as the one who mentions Gareth had a secret affair, some say being one of his own students, meaning he probably had a son, or not. The first night spent below the Mist seemed the same as the one spent at Kilde. Kids walking into the coal reminded Kain of Gizamaluk, and how wayward he was to even risk his life for the father's sake. At least, Gizamaluk would be alright, and that treatment would put an end to the source of Kain, and maybe, Frigg's anguish. Not only they walked on coal, but also curled their dirty tails one to another, a game called of 'Rat King' by them. Whoever was the first to let go of the tail tied tightly as a node with the others was the winner, even if it meant to flay or tore the skin apart from your own body. What kind of awful fun they had since infants, he tought.

From there, Kain and Frigg, holding of Gizamaluk in a wrapped piece of red cloth, went to a place, where instead of green vines of kudzu, the walls of that house had been overtaken by a red creeper; that was Frigg's house, where she stood until she turned 16, the age of consent to become a member of Vastita infantry. No one from the general populance knew who Frigg was, before she became a Red Mask, as much as who Kain was before he had been chosen by Bahamut.

...

— ...Before my brother became the King, he was just like me. A Prince. Now I'm his Prince, heir of the crown in case he passes away.

— Yes. Exactly...

— Edgar... Why do he always avoid to look straight at me? And his sons, imitating him? He, like his sons, think I'm a failure.

— What?... My Prince... don't say such a thing before considering the facts.

— The youngest brother, that's the reason why. Edgar blames me for our mother's demise. Mother would still be alive, if it wasn't for me. So healthy she was, before her last pregnancy, he said.

— Well, this is what Edgar thinks. Racquel was, in fact, suffering from an unexpected disorder since he was young, before you were even conceived. From the breakfast to dinner, each food given, and the taste felt dissapearing with the bits of crumbles left. Sensations never again felt on the same way. Whatever happened to her tongue, each morning, afternoon and night, Racquel barely felt the taste of the meal she ate and the wine drank. Of course, the one who had been the most affected was your brother, Edgar. Your father used to be away before you were born, and when he was, Edgar stood there with Racquel, and his younger siblings. He never accepted the one who once feeded him was now unable to feel the taste of things as before. For Edgar, the meaning of Racquel's taste loss meant more than a single taste loss. It meant she would lost more with the process.

— Lost... more?...

— The appearance, the confidence, the colors... Edgar feared this possibility to happen. Stubborn as always, he blamed Stephanus, his father, for not doing a single thing, which later resulted in a punishment. No one could do a thing, except Edgar, as he thought. Ever since a child, he cared for his mother. He wanted to see her better, to gain strenght, he believed such a miracle would happen to heal his mother's condition someday. Edgar wanted his mother to regain the taste, because she had already lost something in the way, the same 'something' Edgar carried within himself: Love. He was in love with his mother. The love of his father, only Edgar could give it to Racquel on the days the King was gone, and his life was spent into the field.

— In love... with mother? Sig...

— I liked Racquel, not as much as your father and Edgar, but still, we were siblings. A bond, the same that grew with Gizamaluk and Kain, was there with us, from the day we were born. There are bonds you are born with, and those who you create bonds in order to find security. Edgar wanted a shelter of his own, while your father needed someone on his side to offer cosiness on hard times, the same once felt by a mother. Now you can understand the shock of your brother when you were born, Gabriel. Your father said nothing, as he just looked at you, and the body of Racquel. We knew your father felt something about Racquel. He just had no time to express himself, to show the feelings hid underneath that skin of his. On the other hand, the one who spent most of the life of his with Racquel erupted. On the same second Racquel's soul left this world, you cried, and Edgar yelled. He didn't accepted his mother could have died, after all he had done for her, and didn't accepted his father couldn't cry after standing near the body of the one whom he loved. As if you claimed for a mother's attention to be taken care of, the one who cried was you, Gabriel. From that day, Edgar thought his mother lost more than her taste. Completely, Edgar lost his mother for the mere existence of yours.

— So Edgar thinks this way... or used to think. As a King, he seems more reasonable, but still, he lets the past to pass in throught his mind. The only failure of his... is that he insists to keep on living with the resentments of the past.

— As much as a certain someone...

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

...

Invited to be lodge in a guest room, Kain had to watch over Gizamaluk, lying upstairs on the same bed with the disease spread on the red blanket, and carefully give each day his dosage of Ether, so he could bear with the illness until his body got rid of it on his own. No matter how long, when the effect were meant to be saw by the eye, Kain hoped that boy's strenght would endure, as much as his will to live, alike a seed from a foreign land raised on a dry soil; so, he would be no more a motive of such a worry, regret carried over like a stone on his back. But Gizamaluk couldn't die so easily, because he and Kain already tied their tails on another.

If Kain believed Gizamaluk could recover, then Gizamaluk, just for another day, could, after all he passed throught, to once again prove he is willing to not be back down so sudden, by using anything left on his own to one day stand on his feet, with the eyes wide open to the world he live. That spirit of his, Kain knew for sure, certainly would find a way to go up in the ladder and burgeon into the sparkling sunlight. The same Frigg seemed to believe, on her own way. After all, she was just experiencing new things, almost never felt by the Vastitas she belonged.

With the days spent at Pathos, not only Kain had attention over Gizamaluk, but also took care of Frigg's house when she was away. Always there to clean the dust hiding below the carpet, wash the dishes made of clay, to prune the growing vines of kudzu from the walls of the house and garden... Another daily quiet life, spent when she went away to buy at the market. With or without the armor, as he noted with the days, Frigg had changed. She looked like a common Vastita housewife, wearing of that single lime cloth, always carrying of a knife in the pocket, just in case someone tried to beset her. Beautiful as the sight and scent of a rose, althought covered by spikes that allows no one to hold her in the arms, Frigg owned of the same i ndependence from before, or pretended she could.

From the dinners accompanied of Kain to the soups given to Gizamaluk before he could withstand the bitter taste of the Ether; on a starry night, rare to be seem for the people living at the Mist, lying on the roof to gaze at the sky, when asked by Kain about why she was cooperating with him, one word came from her lips: Selfish. Frigg admitted all she had done was for the sake of herself, like the many stars that shines for themselves. By giving Gizamaluk a shelter to rest, and allow the one he calls by 'father' to stay with him, Frigg felt better when satisfied of the pain of the others, because it was better to do something than do nothing. To live for the sake of the other, besides themselves, is a kind of feeling long lost by the Vastitas. From that day onwards, the image of a Frigg who once Kain thought to be refractory towards people... shattered like a mirror as a whole since that short moment.

Later that night, from he deepest layers of his memories, immerse in a dream, Kain saw a faint glimpse of the light belonging to a distant fire merged into the void of darkness. He had forgotten his purpose left on the way, and no news from his comrade, Siegfried. Nothing about Klaire and Kilde, or his home at hills, where Lucrecia was raising Nate. F or all these days, Kain had not been secluded at Pathos not because of the burden he felt towards Gizamaluk. It was the burden of someone else that interrupted his way to bring his people the choice of Bahamut. The child found at Kilde, who felt better as the days had passed and the symptons dissapeared, was no more a reason for Kain to stay at there.

17 days, and Gizamaluk was already full healthy, seemingly immune to the pox, could walk once again, even talk and look at his father, but still Kain and him stood at Frigg's house, with some invisible force pulling him to stay. On that fateful morning, while he took care of the flowers from the outside, as Frigg opened the door to go somewhere else, Kain stood in front of her, decided to ask her why secluding them from the world. Frigg said nothing, and as lies spread like lices, rats like her couldn't bear to escape forever from an eartquake with such strenght, who persisted until the reminiscense of someone long lost were saw throught her eyes.

When Kain spoke about Gizamaluk, who had something to do for the reason of her burden and why she left the armor of a Red Mask commander she was, Frigg ended up the conversation that didn't even started and that suspicion of his only had upsetted her. With b oth lost for words, Kain accidentally, without no purpose, stepped over Frigg's shadow; as he was about to tell his apologies, a straight cut was delivered to his right arm by that knife. Shocked, Frigg had no chance to help stop the bleeding of Kain or speak to him since them, remaining quiet instead.

Next to Gizamaluk's window, flowers were raised. Yellow on the right, as the happiness and the good wave of expectations felt by his father, and Blue on the left, as the calm and restless ocean of stability between reliability and anxiety; thus were born the first hyacinths. But, from the repressed pain Kain felt by the tip of the sharp blade of Frigg , a day later were born of his dripping blood felt from his arm to the flowers of the left the first purple hyacinths. Purple of the same shade that grew on such flowers filled into Frigg's once grey eyes like the Mist, because for the Vastita, it hurted to cry, enough for the red of the veins spill over her vision as blue like the tears shed...

...

— ...Mother. Did mother cried when she gave birth to her son, or it was just me alone, Sig?

— Your mother... to 'cry' is a mere single word, an easy way to describe such unmeasurable pain. veryone feels pain, my Prince. Some feel it on different ways, as Frigg once, and still felt, as your brother...

...

It all became clear on that dim night, when the shadow had its own story to be told by the owner of his. As if Frigg so feared that thing like a kid, had no self control over it whatsoever... How do you create your 'self', your 'beliefs', she asked. You create your 'self' from what people taught you, mainly. You're born empty, but ready to learn. The family is the diminished part of the State, created in order so 'you', since a baby, could learn of what the State taught you, from the words of your father, or mother, or sister, or brother, someone older than you, that learned from the same way you'll learn. With no exception, any Vastita is said to be born under punches. Violence is the basis of the Vastita 'teaching' with their children, verbal and not, defined as basis of their 'society' in a whole. In order to become a Vastita, you had to retaliate. Throught lies, deception, mutilation, corruption, death...

No Vastita, from the day they were born, lived; instead, they survived. No sly doubt about it. But each one is born with a sense, the innocence part of our good nature, belittled by the ones over you. The beliefs are institued by the same ones who are one; the family, at the command of State, was in charge to develop a trust to their young ones, in order to share of their beliefs to the new generation. You are told a shadow stands below the body, it's natural it remains below, but what if it stood above you, like the darkness across the night sky, where you can't see anything else? The shadow of your father's arm stands next to the unseen shadow of the comfort given by your mother's womb, both lying within your 'self', while the shadow of the ignorance given by and to both lies above your 'self'.

Everything you see is a star, because you had been told it is a star; e veryone besides the Vastitas you see is a foe, because you had been told it is a foe; everybody believes what they are told, because they got no sense to refute the family on your own. They are what is your 'own'. To become a Vastita, you needed to be emptied of those stupid ideals of 'self' and abandon the 'Frater' as you reach maturity, they say, or else you will never reach the truth told and be punished by them. By them, she referred to the 6 major Demiurges, members of State, founders of the Jugend of Pathos who once reunite on the reign to a test.

They each had in ther possesion a Midgardsormr, giant snakes who seemed to measure 2 meters of of height and 30cm of a widht body – counted by today's measurement system. Possesing of sharp black scales, birth from the offspring of Uroborus, the snake said to had falled from heaven, kept at Grignard, the Midgardsormr swims on the Stige, the river near the outskirts of Pathos, as the children where thrown in there by force. While some of them ended up with a choke on the lungs, drowning in blood, the remaining ones are attacked by the snakes. As they wrap around the child's body, breaking the bones, the weak ones shed of their last tears without even being able to scream, because of how tied the constriction of those snakes, and the more they struggled against it, the stronger the grip fastened as the sudden stroke felt on head. Whoever survived, a few ones like Frigg, had passed the test.

How cruel wasn't enough to describe the raw of those stark words, and the mark of a painful constriction left below the scarf who once covered of the same neck. The flow of pain felt at the moment, pumping throught a wounded heart, was nothing compared to the weight left to a wound carved so deep be carried for a lifetime. As Kain looked further keenly at Frigg's soul, stripped down to the bone, he saw visions a child, being hurt plenty by the whip hitting on her back, tied on the altar dedicated to the goddess of Persistence, arms and legs scratching of the prurience emanating from the pinkish bubbles of pox, the skin burnt by the cold nights on the harshest of the winters, while lying on a bed of twigs without a piece of cloth to cover the naked body... all done to raise new soldiers, with no particular 'self' and secluded of their 'Frater' into ashes belonging to a burning bridge, to be stepped over in order to trigger the inner Vastita to rise earlier from its refuge, the shadow beneath them all.

For Frigg, the world had all his sides inmutable and no meaning to exist besides throught the minds of few, like a said to be perfect triangle. Frigg was about to end the conversation, bury it at once, but then, she had perceived no reason to keep it away on the wings from Kain, because she saw Gareth trought him, listening carefully to her words. Those eyes forced she to confessed that, besides her mentor, Gareth was like a father figure to Frigg. A father born from a stranger family, that gave her a shelter, Gareth even listened to Frigg's personal problems and understood of them clearly, never showing a sign of distaste for each one of her problems, always there to give his advise. Frigg needed someone, unlike that shadow over the years, to tell about the woe attached to a secret kept locked, meant to be told only for Gareth. One slip of tongue, and everything would fall like a landslide into her.

Without Gareth, Frigg became a compass without a north to be pointed. She knew Gareth fought for his country, but why he had to leave, wondered the lonely one. The strenght of her alone may had sufficed enough the demand of Grignard on her own, as it seemed by the ot hers. To regress, not develop your 'self', but instead share of a 'self' without developing your own; call it something contrary to the brave and fierce image of a Red Mask that slowly vanished from Frigg's 'self' or whatever, but Frigg was finally showing off her 'true' colors, inside the pitch black world of her. To copy the moral, behavior of a family meant to raise you, to create you... how could Frigg discover the 'you', the 'self' without them? The 'own' carried bu the 'other'? A façade that deceived everyone of 'his' weakness, the co-dependency of being 'they' hiding underneath that shadow; Frigg died once with her innocent and Gareth's demise, and became a man instead of a woman, because of the pressure given since when 'they' are born.

By 'they', Frigg meant all women belonging to the Vastitas families. Mother, aunt, sister... and all the pressure suffered by the weight of the State and Clergy, one and same structure, during war times. With the majority of the Vastita army composed by proud male soldiers, and as the high amount of them meet the end of their lives at the warfield or in the civil disorder outbreaks, grated for being able to protect their homeland and wifes left at home, it was common the decrease of the male population. The solution was for the Clergy/State to initiate a policy to incentivate the union act during those times. The more the sons, more prospere live would become, believe the men of Bulu; for the Vastitas, the more the men, more prospere the war. Many children were born from those periods of policy, including Frigg, and her sisters, her mother, the sisters of her mother...

With such destiny reserved to her, Frigg turned into a man, engrossing her voice, erect posture, javelin, heavy armour, pointy spear... she wasn't the only female disguised as a male, but was an example to all. Selfish of her 'self', Frigg wore red not because 'he' was a Red Mask, but the red of the armour and clothes, underneath and beneath the armour, were used to not hide the red poured of of her enemies, but the 'red' of herself. But a gainst the mirror, Frigg couldn't confront what the bends, parts of a body told to 'him' is truly 'her'. Women had the tendency, from the eyes of a man, to be beautiful in any way, no matter how they saw themselves. It was the nature, pulling one of its tricks to attrack opposite sexs to the junction of a being. Frigg couldn't stop insisting to herself that Gareth, the one whom she shared of the inner intimacies, left her to lead a life on her own. Until then, when the 'red' of Frigg dissapeared, and s omeone that reminded Frigg about the 'his' awoke inside the 'her' ... Someone that told Frigg to trust in her own strenght and have faith in her own destiny... Someone like Gareth, a son of his, raised from the frivolous yet painful labor pains. His name...

That's when Gizamaluk came to the room. With eyes stained in purple, a color that engulfed of her once pale iris, Frigg stopped the conversation to stare at him. He was healthy, able to walk freely once again. A soul no more tied to the bed where they are born and die someday; It was Gizamaluk, Kain was certain of it, as much as Gizamaluk was. Instead of dozen of them as demanded, Frigg only had a lost long son, the same found on her arms once again. When that baby was born, as Frigg told, she wasn't able to bare with the education methods that boy was supposed to be taught, because 'he' was a part of 'her', and 'her' was a part of 'he'. Raised to be another fragile soul, without discovering her 'self'; those scars on the back of Frigg reflected upon years of torture persisting like the flame of the nation, trespassing the skin and later habitating the boy's heart. Was she as mothery like her mother, or as fatherly like her father; to give the child another world to live seemed to be the only choice, so before Gizamaluk could open his eyes, Frigg secluded him from the world she lived, because she feared her child, the same child of the 'father' whom she missed and wanted to stay, to be taken with the shadow she grew onto.

It was all done to aliviate her own personal sake, then and now, as Frigg once thought. The things Frigg felt for Gizamaluk when she left him on his own... Things that couldn't be easily explained. Those things felt as a whole were something more than selfish. Frigg knew how excruciating was the process of a child to become a Vastita. For all these years, she blindly followed the path of others, because she had no other option, besides what the 'other' demanded. The Vastitas, for centuries, never progressed to freed themselves, simply they preferred to had fallen apart into methods of superiority and dominance.

Frigg and Gizamaluk were both raised on different corners, sharing of the same sky with two colors, yet they shared of the same blood and principle of existence. A son whose reflection once was his only accompany, and a mother still afraid of her own shadow; the act of reflect upon objects demonstrated both had a bond hid by the fact of 'him' and 'her' being lost into different worlds and themselves. Abandoned by the parents, raised by the pain, althought the shadow grew with Frigg, it was of her own inner choice that the same Gizamaluk she found once again had the opportunity as a kid to counter the effect of years of desolation, to shift the Vastita paradigm since Frigg moved him to Kilde and years later Kain met with him, as a bond tied like a missed ribbon grew on them.

...

— Frigg... she was just like mother, wasn't she? The reason why her life was taken away...

— It's natural for each living creature to fight against other creatures and each other, like the Vastitas once had done. But what makes us more than mere rats is that we fight for the others. In order to protect her own offspring, a mother like yours would even take of her own life to protect you. Frigg, as a mother, secured of Gizamaluk's life as the same way Racquel secured the other, you, to live. Edgar may be right about you being the reason Racquel is gone. But your mother... she cared for the others above herself. That's the relevance meant to be told. Sacrifices taken for an only being the sake of other beings; and for this same purpose, your mother stood there, agonizing into the pain, afraid of what would happen, as something already predicted by a dream, but... That's part of our nature, the human side of ours, that separates us from mere animals. Mere Vastitas.

— Mother...

...

Fate already dicted Frigg and her people to be born and bequeath of the Vastita blood, because their parents and ancestors were also Vastitas. Frigg didn't knew who she was, because the destiny said to be dependant of her own choices didn't existed. To choose who you are, on your own, to follow your destiny? That was something a Vastita could not do, because no one has a 'self', since the family was in charge to avoid the newborns to develop one. If Frigg didn't knew to follow her own path, didn't knew how to develop a 'self', then what about choosing the destiny of the 'other', like the 'other' had done all throught her life and the lives of everyone? By saving Gizamaluk, unable to choose of his own choices, from the same pain she wasn't able to avoid since little, Frigg understood why Kain lived for the sake of others. Not only because he felt better of himself, but because his life was tangled in a web of mutual benefit. Everyone is you, and you is everyone; The same belief persisted, with divergent meanings on both societes.

For the Bulu, the 'you' coexists in a space with other 'you', meant to be helped. The 'you' can't live without the 'you' that resides on the 'other'. The more helpful 'you' are, more of the good nature that the same 'you' were born with would grown each day; for the Vastitas, 'you' are everyone, then the 'you' that resides into the 'other' would be quiet enought to not be able to question the atrocities carried and supported by the hands of the entirety, knew as society, over the time. If, by any chance, someone developed a 'self', then it meant more could discover their 'self', and the sense awoke on the mind of the 'you' would cause a rebellion against the method spread into the society, demanding of drastic changes that would entail the end of the control ingrained over centuries. Then, the remaining ticks would retaliate on the way they had been taught since infants. Violence is the term that means their excuse for an existence. No matter how things went, violence was there to be used by the Vastitas to accomplish of their same goal.

As Frigg told by Kain, Necro, the leader of the Vastitas, who seeks destruction in constructions made against his and other king's ideals, once had contact and tried to nobble Leviathan to summon a tidal wave into a rebellion spread at the outskirts of Grignard, but the god refused to do it so, fearing that Bahamut might had punished him later the act of his had been done. From the underworld, below the sea of Leviathan, Necro had contact with Hades, the weapon synthetizer from the same place. Not all weapons given by Hades were just swords, arrows and spears; Hades also had in his possession the beasts of Chaos. Even Necro, who claimed the beasts to his feared them. Kain stranged it, because he had been told that Necro was 'immortal', but Frigg refuted his thought.

She told that before Necro became the king, he was one of the six Demiurges from the main Vastita reigns. When he invited the first Advent sent by Bahamut to his house and killed him, Bahamut condemned Necro to live on eternity by trasnferring his life into a candle. It took time for Necro to realize the truth about his punishment, and that he wouldn't live forever as he thought. On the same way Necro lured that man to his net, Bahamut used of the same trick, to hide the truth of Necro about the candle, that didn't made the Vastita into an immortal, but instead, it did made Necro became more mortal than he was. From a single blew of a Vastita more trustful and honored as Necro, the life of his would vanish in an instant.

Condemned to live forever at his will, Necro told to his people, as a King, that the only true world was where the Mist reached. They believed it, of course, as they already believed in what the other said. Its said the life of his had been long sealed into a flame by Bahamut, nowhere to be found, hid somewhere from outside the Mist. Before Necro, the Vastitas hated each other that didn't resemble them. Now, with the paranoia spread across the reigns, it became clear all Necro pursues is to hide the fact he'll die someday into the pressage of killing the others, before he die as well.

...

— Immortality disguised by mortality... If father was, at least, immortal...

— He is, my Prince. As a King, Stephanus will stand still against time, as much as the myth of Kain endure until now. You'll be soon as immortal as your father.

— Only because I am a noble? A descendant of his?

— No, because you are Gabriel. 'Noble' is just a word to make those who are rich superior, a 'have', above the 'have nots', in other words. A King is a Noble, but a Noble is still a denomination, just a 'word' with a meaning to fullfill. Words have meaning, their own since they were created. But you, 'Gabriel'... your name, wrote on paper, means 'hero'. But what makes you, 'Gabriel', truly a hero? You, your brother, your father... you're all the same in blood, that's true, yet you are still fellow Burmecians. But you wonder, what is a Burmecian? Before Kain came to reunificate its people, our ancestors, the word 'Burmecia' and the designation given to its people, both didn't ever bothered to exist on paper, but instead they awaited within the mind of those who believed in a better place, to be called home.

— And this home is where I was born. And the one who gave me this name...

— When you were born, Racquel had already decided what was going to be your name. She choose Gabriel, because you stood within her as a hero for an entire month, like your father stood fighting for Burmecia. Since then, you've been called Gabriel. But 'Gabriel' ain't just the name of a hero. Unlike words, only the persons can find for themselves what they do mean, beyond the name. But when they aren't able to do it so, their souls are easily manipulated by what the other thinks, by the words. The Vastitas believed they were 'empty' because such 'emptiness' drove them alive, as they believed, and were taught to believe. In fact, it was all just a way to allow their emptiness to be filled in by more of the same emptiness. The 'have nots' wanted the abundance of such 'haves' to be gone. No one is better than yours, nor you're better than anyone. All Vastitas felt themselves empty, well, except for one...

— Frigg...

...

Kain had such abundance he carried throught his life. By abundance, it means his feelings, emotions... qualities of a being. He didn't accept what the entity knew as Necro had done, and would never forgive of its actions. Kain once thought of the same when he heard about the Vastitas for the first time, when he was a child. Now, as he grew up, his thoughts changed considerably, and more with the days. To be instructed by Bahamut to save its people, people... To think the Vastitas were 'people' all the time. Helpless people, pleading to live, ever since the day they were born, no matter how.

As said once before, they didn't even lived, but survived. To attain 'Life' was their goal. Live, for the Vastitas, only happened when they died, for good. Then, w hat was that life, the same one whose souls hanged on until the end? That life, spent below the Mist, was the one you learn to live, before you could truly attain the Life awaiting for you in the after. All Vastitas lives were the same, because they were born, grew, learned, killed and had children on the same place, this place belonging to the Mist, its true ruler, and the lands where the rain was secluded in a seldom state.

Frigg learned to 'live' such 'life' with the shadow of their beliefs slowly overcoming her as a whole. The fear, the pain, the anger... to be hurt, and feel nothing; to keep everything felt inside that stalwart skin. Such reason enough to be afraid of the shadows, both always following you with your same steps. That's one of the reasons why Frigg gave Gizamaluk a life she never had, an opportunity for her son to grew with another life, instead of growing up on the same way as his mother; to be given another world to belong, the same where Kain grew within, a place where the bright sun could vanquish such persistent bit of shadow present on every one of the Vastitas.

Kain, Gizamaluk and Frigg... Was Fate who kept them as one? Frigg wanted to live more honestly with herself. She wanted to live with Gareth, the one who had what she had not, lost in the process of belonging a Vastita. What Gareth had, was the same as his son and Kain had. Everytime that shadow insisted to rise and keep its owner on a strife with another, the one who were hurt most was Frigg herself. That's why Frigg didn't hesitated to attack, or to reject Kain, but instead, she accepted he and Gizamaluk, the lost son, into her arms. The only one who Frigg's shadow never harmed was Gareth, and his son, who shared of his father's will to keep on within this world, even on such desperate situations. Kain, as Gareth, would never kept for himself its 'Frater', but he would instead share of it with the others who needed it most. If Frigg had realized it sooner...

No 'sorry' was pleaded that night once. Frigg had her own way to answer the questions given by, and she already had forgiven Kain. She tried to force a smile, but that wasn't enough, thought it was the first smile shed in years. Frigg was willing to help Kain on any way she could, as her son once had done, to find a way to recognize herself and do the same for the people she lived within the Mist. To bring Life instead of a life, to live on the sun over the shadows of the past; that was the goal of the one who Bahamut assisted to Kain. Either man or woman, Frigg was the one Vastita meant to bring an end to the suffering and dependance brought by the lineage that stood over the centuries.

All that was left was for the Reunification to happen, and the souls to be cleansed, was to fight against Necro. Being the leader of Vastitas, the centerpiece of their beliefs, such the fragility of Necro's life was disguised by the same protection given by his people, and the Red Masks whom he hanged over control as the 'Drive' he gave to them. Paranoid of his self, the trust of Necro were left on anyone, not even on his most loyal men, like Frigg. His life were hidden somewhere, and only he and god knew where. On a dream, Kain asked to Bahamut where the candle holding of Necro's life were hid, and Bahamut answered that, before he could find it, first he needed of a sword called Durandal. The same sword belonging to Siegfried, his whereabouts unknown, but Kain believed he was still a captive at Klaire.

On the next day, the last of his days at Pathos, Kain decided to went away from there and go to Klaire, but not alone. Without wearing a piece of her red armor, whose clothes of same color once were responsible to harm Gizamaluk, Frigg followed Kain, as her son did the same. On the way, a group of Red Masks obliterated their way to reach the exit of the reign. Unrecognizable for those she stood with an armor all along, some not even knowing it was 'she', Frigg could not do nothing but walk backwards against the tips of those javelins. For the first time, she felt the same those enemies she fought felt. The same Gareth may have felt, as another child during the occupation of Guerinika by the Vastitas. The majority of them retreated, afraid of someone who carried on more fear than his, before their last expressions were engulfed by the horror of a face hew down. Frigg wasn't the one who killed whom she, ordered by Necro, pursued. Instead, her men, and women disguised as such like herself, had the bloody duty hanged on by the same power.

That power... When Frigg saw once again Gareth's statue on her back, she took out her scarf, and showed it for the ones once ordered by her commands, the ruler's invisible written commands. She had no pride or same selfish to show off such a traumatic experience, but wanted to see a reaction she was expecting to come out. They also shared of same experience, they were once children, Frigg thought. Children born with the Vastitas, who had of the same destiny, from the beginning of what they call by lives, until they achieved a 'Life' in the end... Children given such power grown by the hatred they felt under the supervision of the entirety of the eyes of the nation... Children who kill to live, because of the tale and each word told by their injured ears over years of creation of a 'self' not designated by them, but forced to be by the other...

What those Red Masks were meant to be before they became such Vastitas, if they weren't raised by them? A s the everything, everyone seeked for an answer. An answer alone never came, as they died for what they believe to be it. Live was the answer, but how where they supposed to Live? Before they lived a life, they had to die, so they could be reborn as Vastitas. What Frigg had done... to allow strangers and their feelings to trespass into herself; feelings once forgotten to be shared by the remaining vessel left after years. That wasn't betrayal, but a chance given once again to fullfill an opportuniy of centuries, for a god, for a friend. Both things didn't mattered for the Vastitas, but for Frigg, they had a matter since the day she saw Gizamaluk once again. To make the Vastitas learn abouth themselves and care for the 'self' they find on the other self. No matter how hard the upcoming fight should have went on, in a world of shadows, the greater is the near light. By releasing of the Gungnir spear with the bare hands from the statue of the one who truly raised her , Frigg was prepared to fight against those who she once fought with, but to be followed by those who were on her side as well.

Given the circumstance, more followed into Frigg's side than reject it. The few ones who were left on the other side fought against Frigg. Alone, she accepted the battle and its outcome. Five were defeated that morning. That spear... such power with the Gungnir, and within its owner. It wasn't something an ordinary could do, and understand. It was, and still is, a long and painful process to become a Vastita. Some kill by fun, some kill by revenge, and many kill because they want to Live. Frigg killed the nameless so they could find a salvation for their sorries. It was their decision, it was all they meant. From the pain they were raised, and by such pain they were declined into dead. If things went easier as Frigg wished they could...

A wish... It was possible, but seemed impossible to reach. As Frigg and her people headed straight into Klaire, where a rebellion led by Siegfried started, more of the same wish faded as many wishes once had. Why she and they kept fighting one against another? They were all the same, raised by same fathers. They all fought for what they believed, it was what they learned to live with. Each one has a belief, and each one is part of an 'one'. Thought this kind of thought was meant to be kept, as seem with Kain and the Bulus, Frigg, as many who joined her, demanded of a new belief. By breaking the boundaries with another people from another civilization, there was no truth left, or an 'absolute' belief. All that remained for the Vastitas was just a way to pursue a 'stable' condition, a 'better' way to estabilish the relationships once vanished from the memories of the ones who carried within the name 'Vastita'.

...

— ...I wonder if this story will ever end, Sig. I'm... already... a bit... tired...

— Each beginning is meant to have an end, my Prince. Just wait a little longer, and see for yourself the conclusion...

...

While the turmoil went spread into Klaire and Kilde, and victory were decided by the men and women who followed Siegfried and Frigg, the unnexpected happened. F rom the distance of that afternoon , when the sun was about to settle down and everyone was preparing to celebrate the end of the battle, Red Masks burning each of the their infected clothes, Kain saw the entirety of Bulu and its inhabitants went away into the colossal mouth of the beast called Atomos, in possesion of Necro, whose void absorbs its victims to a place no one knows where it leads, presumably the afterworld. It lasted less than a minute, but a second was enough to Kain to fall in despair. Off all things done for the sake of his people, who faded away from the material world in an instant, whose time luged longer as the attempt of a shout failed, to later be drained into the tears of a desperate soul as Kain.

The sky became from the orange who once emanated into each of the candles the Bulus carried over as the ties on their tails, the same Kain still possessed, until that moment, when red as the blood were painted over its entirety. Siegfried, like many of the others, had no words left to say, the same for the Red Masks who stranged of such feeling they felt, a remnant of their past scattered long ago. Frigg knew of such, and even went for such kind, alike Gizamaluk, who tried his best to comfort the one he called by father since that fateful day, when they meet each one another on that same fountain belonging to Kilde, spouting of the water that boy, only his, once looked throught it, and now, he sees himself flowing as the tears of Kain. His father, the same one who gave him a value, a reason to live for years, now felt worthless in minutes.

Frigg watched over Kain, in comtempt for the one who caused it. It was all my fault, she said with such affirmation. Had I been attentive to the words of Necro, his plan, his frustation, his power, his insanity... this wouldn't happen. Frigg pretended she could blame herself, to redirect the pain felt by Kain into her, on the way similar to how her son felt after that day, ill in a cage, surrounded by the cells of Klaire and Frigg's given orders. To staunch the bleeding one by allowing herself to be the one who's bleeding most; did Frigg felt better, or worse, it didn't mattered. Did Gareth felt the same way since that day, before he left her alone as the beginning of that life she was forced to live into the Mist... That's when Frigg pointed to Kain her finger to the Mist, and said to him that there were still people, his and her people, whom he needed to guide into this land Bahamut promised.

Anything was better than nothing, and it was time for the Vastitas to stop seeking the destruction, the nothing, over the order, a peace for each of their minds lead this way. That's what Frigg thought, and maybe Kain. Sitting still on his own, even with Siegfried, Gizamaluk and Frigg on his side, Kain stood quiet, and still on his focus. That was just a battle, he thought, but the war didn't settled the score of the winner yet. But, as many of the battles fought, the price had a cost, a weight to bear. Could he bear such weight? Yes, but the aftertaste remained, no matter the time, or the erasure of such event by history. And Kain was tired, exhausted of the days spent beyond the doors of Yashar, below the Mist, over the nearest mountains, befriending new people... it was such a journey that lasted, Kain agreed. But it was yet to be over.

Survivors. The world rang on all ears. Berkana, the priestess of Kilde, came running, alongside a group of Black Masks to the cracked vestiges of what where once the doors of Klaire. Alongside her and the Black Masks, came a boy, whom Siegfried recognized. It was Baldwin, his younger brother, who seemed rather scared, yet with a look of serenity in his eyes. With his clothes ripped and marks of minor injuries left by sharp objects hanged on by a body almost covered in by tones of black charcoal and gray ashes, Baldwin narrated to Siegfried of the events which happened before Atomos went to Bulu. Archibald, their father, went to Bulu before that beast came to destroy, as he kept his brother to take care of their family, who went away from there by a presentiment of misfortune felt by the same one who decided to return to Bulu. Unlike father, Baldwin felt of another prognostic, who told him to return to the same place as his father once was.

Was... Siegfried heard such word, and said nothing, because he already knew what happened. On his own, Baldwin went to Bulu, and could not find his father, or part of what once was Bulu. Archibald, as Ekkehard, fought until the end, the iminent one. Without father, the one who had remained of the family where Siegfried and Baldwin. Two went away into distance, and only one was left, as many of the people who were alive. As a Highwind, it was Baldwin's task to to keep on the continuity of the last member of the family, who secure of the remaining lives for the sake of his own. As a Highwind, even young, he never awaited to stand still while everything went moving. This, Siegfried understood briefly since infant, and after these days he planned the rebellion and made new friends, that matter became well understood.

When told of the situation of the ones Baldwin saved, confidence filled in Kain once again, but he already overwrought himself too much. Even knowing the aftermath of the lives of Bulu, he couldn't think of anyone else, besides the one who he thought to be lost forever. Many of his neighbors were there, but she wasn't. Then, from the inside of the crowd, a voice of an familiar travelled into the barrier of shouts. Kain recognized of such in an instant. From there, came Lucrecia, his first love, still holding of his son, Nate. The reunion brought tears into Kain's eyes, who thought the worse happened to his wife and son. Fortunately, they were alive, and both were filled in by many stories to tell.

From the day Kain went away to fullfill of Bahamut's wish and onwards, Nate learned of many things, as Lucrecia told. He learned to slowly see the world on his own, as his eyes bare of the sunlight in a few steps he was also still learning to do. Even without Kain, Nate was there for his mother, and Lucrecia was there for her son. Days passed, and that infant learned more of the world, and other feelings. He spend his days on a happier mood, but when night came, Nate cried to be given a cuddle. When that baby opened his eyes on a morning, he saw another side of such world he lived with mother. Still young to understand, but able to see he was, and still he would be. Kain looked at Nate, who looked back at father, and said to him that they would, one day, see a new world, given by Bahamut as that same child were given in to his. Children, because Gizamaluk would never be forgotten by Kain since that day.

With the support of both Black Masks and Red Masks allied with them, Kain and the party planned to take down Necro, but before they could infiltrate his castle, destroy each poppy seeds or find his life were the main objective. Without the 'Drive', there would be no power for the infantry, and without his life, Necro was nothing more than a corpse hanging on a throne. Kain deiced to stay with Lucrecia to take care of the ones who survived at Klaire and Kilde, while Frigg and Siegfried would find out where Necro kept his life. They had no hints, until Berkana told them his life were hid underneath the sea of Leviathan. Berkana knew about Necro's life because they were once acquaintances. What Berkana felt for Necro lasted a long ago, as told by the vivid colors shown by Berkana, unlike the pale of the one who stood with the Mist, the one who refused to accept his destiny, and to have a trust unreachable by anyone.

Siegfried decided to not go with Frigg, because he had a matter to do. Like Kain and his family, he decided to stay at Klaire and Kilde, to treat of the wounds belonging to the ones he injured, some injured by the tip of his weapon, and others injured by the fault of his when they needed him most. Instead of going in search of Necro's life, Siegfried went in search of what his life meant. To harm others, he felt himself as Necro, but unlike his, he felt compassion for those whom his blade harmed, victims of the oppresion of Necro and the ideals carried with their later Kings and Emperors. The Vastitas were no more his enemies, only Necro, the one who indirectly had done the killing of Ekkehard, his father, and his people, the people of Bulu and the new people who the Vastitas pretended to change into. On support for the cause, Siegfried gave to Frigg his Chocobo, and to Baldwin, who followed her as Gizamaluk, the Durandal, his sword, were given in. As told by Kain, that sword had something to do with taking Necro's life to an end, presumably he hid it underneath a rock. Only the sword of the Highwind, the one passed down to father to son to brother, would tell. As Frigg, Gizamaluk and Baldwin went away to the sea over that Chocobo, the Black and Red Masks went into the Mist.

Within that day and the tomorrow, gone were the main plantations of the drug and the Vastitas who left, on such ways. Those who defended the same were either convinced by the words of change; the stubborn ones rather fought the ones who once fought alongside they, and the ones remaining of the aftermath were few who allied with the enemy, now saw as the victorious ones. In result, with the gathering of forces, as the 6 Demiurges felt in misery, only one remained, and it was the King of all of them.

From the moment The Red and Black Masks as one stepped into Grignard. Frigg, Gizamaluk and Baldwin went to the nearest shoreline. Frigg called upon Leviathan, the God who ruled over the waters below the sky of Bahamut, and demanded of the God's will to open a hollow filled with air into his domain. At first, Leviathan, who appeared physically as a colossal sea serpent, refused to do what the lady told to his, but after listening to her words about the life of Necro being hid below his sea, Leviathan obeyed, as he immersed into his watery land to allow a hollow to be made and sustained by his coiled tail. Frigg and those who followed her came walking across the lands once covered by the blue of the salt sea, searching for that rock where Necro kept the candle of his life. Near that space filled in by the atmosphere, lied the place where Hades forged of its weapons.

Hades, the one who gave the power of every weapon Necro took from him, and used on his own sake... wasn't Hades the one responsible for all the problem kept along these years before and when Necro came? Thought Frigg, but that wasn't the time. Now, the only power they needed at such moment was the one belonging to the Highwinds for generations. When the suspicious stone was found, Baldwin took the Durandal out of its sheath, and as it tip shined when ergued by his both arms, he let it fall above that rock. It would be all over for Necro, if it wasn't for the way he found to secure even more his life, the tip, as the entirety of the blade carried by the Highwind, would not be broke. The Durandal could break the stone, but not the egg found inside.

As Necro felt his life in danger from his palace at Grignard, more of his followers came to fight and put an end to what he thought to be another uprising against his. Meanwhile, with the Durandal gone, what were Frigg, Gizamaluk and Baldwin supposed to do? There were no time for thinking, only action. On the way they followed into the narrow corridor made by Leviathan, they decided to go into Hades hideout, to seek for a weapon capable of breaking such egg, whom Gizamaluk holded. The candle still inside the egg illuminated their way into the underground grotto, where the weapon synthetizer lied within. Hades grated their presence, meaning only a few ones could gather in that place, or even know about it, but before those people could became his clients, Hades fought against them. After a fierciful and what seemed to be another meaningless conflict, Frigg won against Hades, and became another of his clients.

When asked by the forger, all Frigg needed was a weapon able to break the last seal, the shell of the egg harder than any rock of Gaia, so she could take away the life of Necro, one of the other few of the clients of Hades who attained that same location. Hades confessed to Frigg that he, as her, share of a same hatred against Necro, but no matter the hatred towards that person, he was still his client. The decisions taken by his clients implied certain consequences, that were meant to be taken by his clients and only. He never planned to kill one of his clients, but instead, Hades led others to do what they were meant to do. Another client of his or anyone that's the 'other' of Hades could kill one of the clients, such as Necro, and resolve of this matter at once, being the only way Hades could interfere is by following what he was supposed to do, to forge weapons by synthetizing items, such as gemstones, other weapons, pieces of cloth or something that has a value, personal or universal, and give it on the hands of his client and led him do whatever he's supposed to do, anything or nothing.

Frigg agreed about the implications of the use of such weapon, and considered that each action is tied into a certain consequence. In fact, she was the consequence born of the implication; the means they used against her and many to became Vastitas justified of such act. Once again, Frigg looked at her scarf, and thought of what lied beneath it. A chill on the spine could be felt, it was natural to be felt. To reach such desired end for the pain of the childhood that still persisted over that tighted neck, Frigg was the only there to do what were meant to be done, for the sake of many who fought alongside her and many who are still fighting over distance. When Frigg showed Hades the Gungnir, Hades recognized of such weapon in an instant. It was him who forged the same Gungnir Frigg holded, and Gareth used to. Hades asked to the one who holded of the spear if the power came from such weapon, which Frigg answered a single not. Frigg knew since Gareth's true power lied not only on the Gungnir, but instead on a thing Frigg never had the will to attain, a thing she had , even if by a little, that someday would reach its plenty : a heart.

Without Gareth's power, Hades would do nothing to improve the Gungnir. For him, according to Frigg, his power died within him, and Hades neeced of such power to forge that weapon so it could be able to break the egg where the candle of Necro persisted. It was then that Frigg realized Gareth's power still lied on another self, she could feel it. That same power lied within that boy of her, Gizamaluk, who claimed to his mother that he wasn't worthy enough. He tried to end with his own life two times, and even if he had of his father's power, it wasn't able to suffice on a satisfactory way. Frigg came near her son and told him that no one was pure. Each one is made of failures, weaknesses, but as one. Frigg cut a strand of Gizamaluk's hair, as she had done with her own, and said that as long as they stood together, like the hair of both, everything would went well.

Gizamaluk saw on Frigg the eyes of Kain, and agreed on what she said. The one who saved him that day, Kain, wasn't perfect either. No one was meant to be. By being imperfects, by having problems, those things would not seem to dissapear and become unnoticed, if it wasn't for the other. Co-dependancy is something contrary to co-existence. If you exist, then another does, for the sake of taking away your problems by sharing of their ones, same as yours or not. The Vastitas kept their problems to never be resolved, the turmoil buried into their souls trembled into days, months, years, centuries. They way found for such turmoil to be released was to spread such into new life. Frigg never wanted her inner turmoils to fall like a landslide into her son, the son of Gareth, the true new life hard to be found into the domain of the Vastitas. Instead, Frigg wanted something other than violence to be shared and assimilated into her son, a something that could only be found on another place.

This another place, the place Gareth belonged, Kain belonged, and where Frigg wished herself and her people to belong... was near. By combining both her and the son's hair to be synthetized with the Gungnir, Hades forged of a weapon that carried on the power of Gareth, his trust for Frigg, who trusted in Gizamaluk's life since the day he was born, and thus he created the first Dragon's Hair. Told to be the 'divider of Heaven', the spear known as the Dragon's Hair was the last hope to be found for Frigg, Gizamaluk, and those who went alongside her way. Carrying of such spear, Frigg and those who followed her all the way into the lands of the sea and Hades, went outside of its grotto, and before the sea sustained by Leviathan could swallow themselves, the Dragon's Hair, holded together by Frigg, her son and Baldwin, whose sword would never come back, but his will as Highwind was still there within him, broke the egg released into thin air, and blew the candle. The life of Necro... was over.

Some say that, when the war of Grignard was over, and Necro felt to never walk again, the soldiers of Necro tied his legs with the ones belonging to Siegfreid Chocobo's, who ran in circles around the destroyed palace, dragging the body of the deceased King of Vastitas, the last one. The remaining people who were still at Grignard followed and fled from the ruins to go along the ones who won against Necro. Those ones needed to follow someone, to live somewhere, and there was only a place to go. Days passed, and a village was found by Kain, the new leader dicted by his people, and his allies, who lived on the houses built below the clouds of the wet lands blessed by Bahamut with the eternal rain, a sign of no more wars against his own people. In homage to his wife, Kain named his newfound kingdom with her name. And so, this land became The Kingdom of Lucrecia, whose name became Bulumecia after Kain's demise, later renamed as Burmecia, after the spelling reform came in Year 1100, and since them, Kain's descendants and those who follow of his way of world ruled over this land for centuries...

...

— ...And that's all, my Prince.

— ...

— ...My Prince?...

— ...zzz...ZZZ...zzz...

— ...Very well. Have a good night, Gabriel.

— ...

...

— ...Good night, Sig... zzz...zzzzz...