Work Text:
Mount Ordeals
Sunny, Clear Skies Year 2
It has been 2 years since I have left Baron. The hardest time was six months. Now, it is nebulous. Days began and pass in direct harmony with the constant hum of power resonating from the mountain. On occasion, I sought counsel with the Elder of Mysidia; I asked him each time to not tell Cecil where I am. My presence here isn’t much of a secret, otherwise. Some of the mages would check in, periodically, to both gauge the mount and also of my health.
I take comfort in that. For who knows whether I perish somewhere on the wayside. Better to know that others would look for me as I try to accomplish my task, than to fail nameless and in obscurity.
I once asked the Elder why it has taken me this long to face my trial. He then asked if I wanted to be a paladin. I told him I wanted to be a proud dragon knight. “Well, there’s your problem!” he said, and then immediately said it was a joke, possibly because I couldn’t control my expression. What utter gall.
He had said that it could be because the moon from which the Spirit of the mountain had once called home drifted away from orbit. While it can still be traced by telescope, he said that the loss of magic’s origin could have weakened the might of the mountain. If it were so, then what makes the mountain holy? What retains the usual undead denizens to skulk upon the rocky face with meaningless shuffling. At this rate, my purpose here would be as empty as their existence.
Once, when we were on the Red Moon, we all came upon the Halls of the Hallowed Father. The Lord of all Dragons. Indeed, I had never set sight on a dragon before, much less a drake or a wyrm, since before landing on the Red Moon. Upon stepping in the halls of the dragon lord, I immediately felt it. The origin of my namesake and the company of dragoons of which Baron was founded. This was the fount of history.
And with me was Rydia, the sole summoner of Mist who would avail herself to Bahamut and seek his power. Often I would ask Cecil “…is this really the girl?” And each time he would say “Yes yes, for Odin’s sake Kain I’m not jesting!”
It’s hard to admit, but I look upon her form and see the prone body of her mother and a child who cries beside her. She seemed very focused upon the cause, to rid of Golbez and by proxy of Zemus. It would be egotistic to assume that she would harbor grudges against me and Cecil. If she did, it would be well-earned. I had, after all, also frightened her by suggesting to use force to make her come to us. If I had used better words, if perhaps I had examined the Carnelian Signet, then all that had transpired with my fate could have taken a different turn. Better or worse, my hastiness contributed to pain.
Rydia… If you find this entry now, would you have pity for me? I who had worn a dragon’s hide but imitation is pale compared to the real thing. You are the most real, who have harbored the trust and proven yourself valorous towards the Bahamut. Reached the mystic land of the Feymarch and given yourself wholly to your heritage. Rydia, if I had gone to the Feymarch instead of Mount Ordeals, would you have guided me to Bahamut? I could have made a mistake.
In thinking me a brother to Cecil, I thought I would seek atonement through his father. I should sought for mine with my own family.