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Crescent Stigma	By : Cynthermes Category: Final Fantasy Games > Crossovers Views: 833 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Dissidia, Final Fantasy IV, Final Fantasy I and its characters belong solely to Square Enix. They’re not mine. I can only lay claim to some OC’s and the plot. No profit has been made for the construction of this prose

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CHAPTER 1.2

The Beginning of the End:

Departure from Eden

A/N: Chocobos are not used for war so you won’t see Cecil riding one to escape from the castle.

“Cecil Austere, as of this moment you are dismissed from military service. The Kingdom and its citizens look upon you as a traitor for failing to eradicate the last survivor of the summoners, hence killing innocent Morgattian soldiers at the brink of her wrath! Such impudence is unforgivable! If you do not leave Morgatte this instant, you are to be executed.” The Court Adviser and Captain of the Royal Guard, Zander Baigan declared as knights including the Ash blond’s unit surrounded him.

“Former Lord Captain of Morgatte; make no move that shall aggravate your penalty.” They all have their eyes cast down as they pointed their spears and swords at Cecil.

“Wait, I wish to speak with the king. I can explain my actions.” Cecil refused to be dissuaded. His verbose adoptive father would never pass judgment through the lips of others. King Odin would rather strike some sense into his unruly son himself.

He longed for his father to speak with him but one glance at the closed doors of the Royal Chambers brought an unsettling eerie cold that crept around his spine. Some instinct told him to storm through those doors before everything was too late.

“The King doesn’t wish to speak with you. He orders you to leave the castle premises immediately otherwise you will be put to death.” As if reading his exact train of thought, Zander deftly countered.

“If you could just allow me to speak with His Majesty—” The Dark Knight insisted, fists trembling at his sides. His anxiety bordered on desperation and unhealthy fear at being swiftly cut off like this.

“Treason rids you even of your status as adopted royal son. His Majesty raised you and Kain tenderly as if you were his own and this is how you repay him!” The adviser yelled accusingly, switching tactics and lashing at where it hurts the most.

Cecil didn’t even know how everything had plunged into this… utter chaos.

He already carried too much emotional and mental anguish from his bloody Mysidian campaign. It seems that matters had gone quickly from bad to worse.

Upon his shaky arrival, another decree lay in wait to test the mettle against his battered conscience and ever weakening resolve.

He was ordered by His Majesty to slay a beast that threatened the safety of a nearby village. Said village was part of Morgatte’s domain and it had become impassable; trade and economy suffered recent damage due to a hostile force jealously guarding the path. The only way to reach the village was through a cave that the beast had comfortably laid claim as its haven. Contact had been cut off from both the village and the kingdom since.

Therefore His Majesty, King Odin decreed that the beast be slain to bring peace and prosperity back to both affected parties and once successful, The Lord Captain Cecil Austere was to present a token of friendship for surety of ties with the village in the form of an ancient ring: a relic from the kingdom’s main treasury itself.

Another decree filled with honorable intent had unexpectedly turned into another disaster… another massacre committed by his hands. Up to now he was still at a loss if the tragedy was merely an accident or a certain treachery had been conspired behind his back. Thus he could only defend himself through words… like he was a common criminal pleading his innocence to a jury who thought him guilty before he can even open his mouth. It was both insulting and degrading to a knight.

“The summoner was a mere lass! She was never a threat to begin with! Members of the Royal Guard had clear malevolent intent to harm her when the accident happened. A summoned spirit appeared to defend her. It was the spirit’s decisiveness to destroy human lives not the will of a defenseless girl.” His words barely warmed the hardened hearts of the battle-scarred men. Unfortunately, Kain was not here to support him. The Dragoon Master was sent to a different mission that would take him days or even weeks to return. If Cecil knew better this was arranged pretty well.

“Mercy from a Dark Knight? Such poor excuse for explicit disloyalty! His Majesty’s order should come first! King Odin’s word is absolute law!” Zander’s eyes equally seethed in murderous rage. “Drive this traitor away from Morgatte! See to it that he is ostracized and exiled!” The Adviser’s orders were the king’s orders. It was the most recent rule established since King Odin locked himself in his chambers.

Cecil struggled and argued but faced with complete opposition he had no choice but to flee. He gingerly backed away from the approaching soldiers and swiftly broke into a run as much as his armor would allow, aiming decisively for the closest means of escape.

A pair of armed guards automatically barred the double doors to his exit. Without hesitation he raised his sword and almost came into blows with them. The sharp-witted ex-captain feinted; parrying their thrusting spears easily then quickly darted out to where they least expect. The machicolation on the left was very much left unguarded.

With back and hands against the brick wall, he carefully but hastily scaled the parapet before jumping down on the closest flying buttress while the gaping guards and stunned knights gave him a precious moment to gain a foothold.

The landing wasn’t exactly glorious but Cecil’s sparring sessions with Kain taught him the right way to do a lesser suicidal-like jump. He managed to do it with more finesse this time, tumbling into the air, using his spear to take half the brunt of the impact and ended up rolling sideways like a tipped egg.

As he hurriedly descended the west bastion, he caught the glimpse of archers taking position at the battlements. That was not good.

Reaching the Knight’s stables thankfully without incident he decided that fleeing was priority over fighting. Chargers would have to do over destriers and he whistled for the lone white mare available.

And as if Divine Providence had intervened, Rosa’s horse and Morgatte’s fastest charger, Lanette bolted towards his direction. He petted her as if asking for permission and when she gave a soft snort, he quickly mounted; pulling the reins and the charger satiated his need for a speedy flight.

As soon as they approached the exposed bailey, the Dark Knight urged Lanette into full gallop and prayed to any listening god that they not be pierced by a single one.

Cecil braced himself as he glanced up the pale grey sky to spot even darker specks and a curious buzzing filled his head as the arrows rapidly descended. Only the lightning speed of the charger enabled them to dodge the death rain above leaving a trail of embedded splinters behind.

The peril from archers was now an afterthought for the Barbican loomed just beyond. There were a couple or more of nasty murder holes in that narrow passage and even another obstacle lay ahead.

His hesitation must have affected the beast’s self-preserving instincts and Cecil quickly held the reins to keep his mount from faltering. Quickly rounding the last corner towards the open path leading to the heavy gates, dust, stone, and rubble were trampled and scattered beneath the charger’s hooved feet.

Even being embroiled within 3 days-worth of military campaign, Cecil’s combat instincts were still sharp and heightened with adrenaline rush after brusquely being thrown in the middle of a welcoming party akin to a boiling cauldron.

He was ill-prepared for the consequences he would face after… turning against his comrades in favor of a stranger. But the damage had already been done and he was past the point of regret. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he always knew he would leave this place.

Now is not the time to doubt! He chastised himself as obvious danger took into the physical form of a long, enclosed space filled with traps.

His lips already moved in practiced ease with the soundless words. He was already miming the spell to cast Blue Fang when the shadowed pathway entered his periphery. At the exact moment they entered the Barbican, bright blue magic erupted on the constricting space, stunting the latches a fraction of a second in time to deactivate the traps. Some nasty ones could have scalded him through the steel of his armor.

But he wasn’t allowed to linger about that now for the light ahead was closing in. Cecil’s heart leapt on his throat at the sight of the Portcullis already in half-mast and the drawbridge disengaging to prevent him from going any further.

A fierce determination seized him, overriding his fear at this crucial point. There was no turning back now. He was a seasoned war commander and not some inexperienced squire! He had escaped the jaws of many more lethal defensive devices on enemy castle grounds before. This was nothing up to par.

His brother had calmly walked out of this treacherous castle faced with the same opposition. He could not afford to be any less.

Cecil whipped the charger faster, armored boots digging on the stirrups of the saddled mare. He was about to do the most bizarre riding stunt of his life and a part of him even smirked excitedly at that.

As he balanced himself he held unto the reins and leaned forward almost hugging the mare’s neck. He carefully but quickly detached his lesser foot from one of the stirrups and now bent sideways. The portcullis was a yard away when he clung and hung completely on his dominant foot on the better side of the charger and placed most of his weight on the furious beast’s powerful broad torso unfailing to urge his ride faster.

Cutting the height in half as he rode sideways earned his left pauldron and back armor plate deep scrapes that otherwise kept him from being skewered on the spot.

The dark knight quickly resumed proper riding balance after passing the canines of death.

He made it!

He had pulled it off and his pride soared high like the final burst of speed needed to dash through the wooden bridge. The charger’s hooves thudded in sharp staccato very much like the dark knight’s heartbeat as they neared the end.

King Odin didn’t secretly covet this mare for nothing because not even the monarch’s own destrier could have survived this death jump across the moat.

For which Cecil did and he was grateful to no one but her.

Quickly behind them, the hinges whined in protest as the bridge’s half-tilted closing was arrested in favor of a mobilized cavalry in pursuit of a fleeing fugitive.

Cecil quickly spotted knights on mounts hot on his heels. Damn, they wouldn’t even let him catch his breath. What were Zander’s real orders? He soon found out as he barely evaded a few well-aimed javelins on his open rear. They were going to follow him to his death.

Yet somehow there was something missing to the entire ordeal he had experienced thus far. It was strangely too quiet and he surreptitiously glanced above to find the absence of buzzing airships over his head. An aerial assault should have efficiently pulverized him in an instant. Somehow Cid’s ominous warning came into mind. He was thus thankful for this discrete interference.

Suddenly, Lanette let out a pained high pitched sound alerting him that she might have been struck. He had to widen the gap between him and his pursuers more than ever. “Easy girl, we can do this.” He soothed her.

After a while she calmed enough to pick up speed. Unfortunately, the delay caused the cavalry to catch up with him. They had to hurry.

Cecil hardly outmaneuvered the approaching knights. Some of them who managed to get a good proximity tried to stab him with a spear or slash him with a sword. Majority of them were from the regular army but he couldn’t be sure.

Their weapons clashed, the sharp blade of his scimitar creating sparks as it reached the enemy’s hilt before a flick of the wrist with the right precision and he struck back mostly to disarm effectively. His expertise in close combat and more experience in the battle field gave him leverage in the fight.

“Keep attacking and eventually he’ll tire out.” An unfamiliar general, probably his quick replacement, barked orders. The strategy was simple but logically effective as Cecil soon felt signs of fatigue wearing him down as he directed his mount and fought soldiers on his rear and sides all at the same time. Even a knight of his stature could only last this much, outnumbered and battle-worn.

A thick line of trees soon came into view. They were now approaching the forests of Morgatte. The lush foliage might offer him protection. He momentarily played with the idea of losing his pursuers in the unfamiliar, monster-infested wood trails.

XxX

“My Liege,” Zander curtsied before King Odin Baron.

“Have you succeeded in driving him out the castle? Did he voluntarily leave and stayed out of harm’s way?” Contrary to Zander’s reference, the king was concerned about Cecil’s well-being.

“He is well my king, do not worry.” Zander Baigan, royal adviser replied with fake concern.

“That’s good.” Odin closed his eyes.

“We only have two crystals left to seize. Cecil brought us the first and days later Kain will give us the other one. If we managed to get all four, think about the possibilities of Morgatte’s role in the future.” The King’s Adviser whispered hypnotically.

“Yes.” The King whispered and fell asleep.

When he was out of earshot the Adviser released his disgust on a well-trained Zuu. This humongous bird would deliver the message to its master.

XxX

True to his expectations, soldiers got lost in their formation as he lead them to narrow, winding trails quite impassable with overgrown tree roots and came across with plant-camouflaged monsters. However, as Cecil reached the clearing, his more adept pursuers gradually found their way to catch up. It was no surprise that they turned out to be his comrades. Brothers in arms, whom he fought with in several campaigns now ironically held the most threat to his survival. He had no more options left but to fight back. He dodged with slight difficulty as blasts of dark energy from the knights of his own unit whizzed in his direction. With his mastery of the dark arts, the elite Dark Knight retaliated in kind: bigger and concentrated proportions not to kill but to disable them. Jolted screams and surprised yells reverberated in the woods as soldiers of the frontlines were forcefully dismounted.

However to procure dark arts of such level, it requires sacrifice of one’s life force. Cecil saw dark grey spots flickering in his eyes and he blinked rapidly to clear his clouding vision. His grip on the reins faltered as his extremities momentarily felt weak and numb. He knew without a doubt that he was more vulnerable than ever.

As they neared the ravine of Gorgona: Aaragorn Kingdom’s border, south west of Morgatte, the dark knight’s drained and exhausted state was more than palpable. His body burned as if with a fever and yet his paler skin was clammy and wet with perspiration increasing his discomfort to near-suffocation and nauseating levels.

In contrast to what he was feeling at the moment, the remaining cavalry unit had recovered formation and swiftly gathered momentum. They nearly succeeded in striking or dismounting the Dark Knight more than once. The brawny man leading most of the assaults was Gigas-incarnate and urged his equally monstrous destrier onwards.

Cecil was rigidly upright on his mount. The fatigue, the strange throb of mind-numbing pain, and the negative energy clinging to him after extensive use of the dark arts had become a double-edged sword. His only way of defending himself had burned his resilience into incapacitation. Any head-start he had gained against his pursuers was nonexistent at this point and they were close enough, almost three hand spans behind him. He realized belatedly that they were not attacking and abruptly broke formation.

A reverse arrowhead or a Y-formation, the weakened dark knight horribly deduced and knew he was as good as finished when the replacement general’s destrier zipped through the wide opening made for him and thrust his spear against the ambling mare’s side. The charger didn’t have a chance. Its flesh was pierced easily.

With one last dying whinny, the mare stumbled into a halt and pitched Cecil to the rocky ground. The Dark Knight struggled to get back on his feet as the arriving soldiers, in overwhelming numbers surrounded him. “What are your true orders? Surely His Highness knows: One cannot strike a dismounted knight even if he is a fugitive.” Cecil spoke calmly betraying the dread threatening to engulf him and narrowed his eyes at the cause of the mare’s demise.

The brawny poor-excuse-of-a-knight appeared not to hear. “It seems you didn’t cross the border. You failed to ostracize yourself from Morgatte. Now you’re a threat, execute him!” He declared instead raising his bloody spear. The battle-hungry soldiers roared in approval and without qualms proceeded to assault their former Lord Captain.

It seems this where I shall pay for my sins. Kain, I leave Rosa in your care now. A defeated resignation to his fate crept in Cecil’s thoughts. Still he hopes a miracle can save him.

“Die, traitor!” The soldiers took their chances of killing him. Cecil fought back fiercely, no longer holding back for his survival. He wanted to avoid this as much as possible however it cannot be helped at this point. He held out as much as he could and stood his ground against the combined forces of foot and mounted soldiers but he sustained many wounds in his body. Blood dripped on the side of his face. His left leg was badly slashed and his sides had gashes each. God help him, he couldn’t keep this up for much longer! Hell, he could barely stand! “Be gone with you, bastard son of the queen!” The general raised his spear and was about to impale the helpless, bleeding knight when the ground shook. The brawny man lost his balance and his eyes widened in surprise. Large boulders floated in the air gravitating on an invisible circle when one gigantic rock detached and darted forward with such blurring speed before he realized he had been crushed.

His dying, agony-filled screams were dampened then swiftly silenced when the other levitating boulders zeroed in on the first mercilessly extinguishing the life out of his gruesome remains.

The remaining soldiers were paralyzed in terror as they saw a towering figure clad in impenetrable armor emerging from the rubble. They hastily retreated in panic. Cecil was now left alone with this stranger. He couldn’t quite make out if the new arrival was a friend or a foe due to the armor. His vision had started to dim and his legs gave out as he attempted to make a slow backward retreat. Before he collapsed, the stranger caught him, carried the unconscious young knight and disappeared in an instant.

A/N: Reviews, constructive criticisms would be nice. But I don’t mind ogling… (From the top: Yeah, weird title, I know. It just popped on my head so…)
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Crescent Stigma