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[Final Fantasy XII] Dreams To Dream

"Relax, Fran..." He gently pushed her back to the bedding, moving down to her injured calf to help relieve the burns. "A good man knows better then to sit idly in the face of a woman's scorn, you flew right past me." A scroll of cure sat on the end table beside the bed, Balthier had been reading it's wealth. Enough to cast a lower level cure possibly.

"I am unharmed..." He assured her, "The wyrms you made rather quick work of, I started up the Strahl about as soon as you left but only caught you as you collapsed..." He took the bloodied cloth, washing it out and re-wetting it. "They got at you some. So I picked up a scroll at the spell shop." It had been a good chunk of his reserve gil, but it would be worth the cost if he could assure this mighty force was on his side.

He set the cloth to the side, recalling the memorized incantation to cast cure to mind. He put two fingers to his temple and closed his eyes, a soft aura arose from the floor around him, soothing and blue. Moving the two fingers at his temple down to point at Fran, the cure magic surrounded the worst of her injuries, taking the pain away.
 
Perhaps taking her out of the fray and from the desert had been a courtesy that any decent being might have done. He went a step beyond it with the room she now resided in and the way in which he tended to her wounds. A good man was thought to exist in theory, but Fran would have believed it only in theory alone. Likely any other Viera would not believe it at all. The Humes loved to use the land and destroy its originality. In an age ruled by the Archaedes Empire, or really any power of war, Humes and goodness were not two concepts which mingled well. Here, he even if he were only one man carving his path through the skies, it seemed to make all the difference.

Fran was quiet and listened well to his recollection of the recent events, her ivory brows slightly furrowed. She could not detect any sarcasm, irony, bitterness, or regret. It was puzzling. He was an enigma. She had never thought a Hume could be thought of so deeply. She had never been tended to by one either. She would not have trusted one to do so. Here he was, doing just that.

"Nn.." The spell he had just recently learned was new and unpracticed but the effort and will he infused within it was worthwhile. She could feel the heat from the burns marring the red and angry skin cooling to an extent that the water and cloth had been unable to reach. The effect penetrated the afflicted locations, soothing the rest of her fatigue, and ebbed to leave behind a distinct warmth. By its end, her hand lifted to lightly close over his own where he had indicated her. "You have my gratitude, Balthier of the Humes."
 
He looked down at Fran's hand upon his own, a mildly surprised look on his face. The first showing of trust she had showed since their rocky meeting. His hand remained there as he sat down to the chair he had been watching her on minutes before. "Of the Humes... I hardly represent my own kind." He laid her hand down gently upon the soft bedding, scratching his chin in a thoughtful look, "I suppose I feel responsible for your current state, so I had to do something." He sat back to the chair.

"You may save your gratitude, work with me, Fran." He looked intently at her, his keen eyes imploring her to accept, "Become a sky pirate with me." Balthier leaned forward again, a thin smile graced across his lips as he once again held her hand out to her, no longer out of sympathy, but of an offer.
 
"And I for my own," Fran found herself murmuring at his correction. It was true that a Hume sought out by soldiers and a Viera apart from her Wood were unlikely to be involved with much business amongst the typical masses. Shaking her head slightly, "This is no fault of yours, but that of the Mist. Too much and it afflicts me as Viera. It is maddening." Its effects and what it did and her inability to fully control it alike. He did not have to take responsibility for what she could hardly blame him for, but he did, and very well. That was what struck her.

The woman was feeling better now, and had begun to sit up once more with less discomfort. What they did from there, after she would need to apologize, was anyone's guess. She had not expected him to offer her what he did, that important proposition, in that moment. What final test had she unknowingly just passed? Or was it he to her own?

Blinking at his offered hand, Fran carefully and soundlessly picked herself up from the bed to sit, moving her feet to rest upon the floor beside to face him properly. "Sky pirates." She repeated, sorting through her thoughts before coming to that important and final decision. It sounded like the perfect profession. She inclined her head towards him in a nod, her hand coming to clasp his and shaking it once. "So we shall be."
 
He held her grip for a while then, nodding. "Good then! We should plan out our next movements then." He stalked briskly about the bed, pulling out more parchments. Maps...

Later, the new partners stalked the halls of the castle Dalmasca, where Lady Ashe resided at the time. They were looking to "borrow" from their peaceful hosts...

Balthier looked left around the corner, marble halls. His gun was raised in the air as he peeked around. He watched as the armored Dalmascan guard continued on out of sight. He looked right then, marble halls, devoid of life. He gestured with his free hand silently at Fran behind him to get her to cross the hallway to the locked door. They were close to their first acquisition.

Taking a second look-out down both ways and satisfied with the sounds of things, he crossed the hall to join Fran at the door. The Viera's ears would surely hear things quicker then his simple Hume ears could, but he was the leading man after all...

"Can you unlock it Fran?" He asked under a quiet whisper. Songs could be heard coming from the direction of the main hall, the heiress Ashe was having one of her first dinners with her new husband. Everyone was well and distracted. Just the way it should have been.
 
She had never envisioned herself as a thief, a criminal, or an outlaw. But what were those things but more roles and morals which society guided? They had both already proven that one structure was not necessarily the only one. The pair had no part in the things that bound their pasts. Things changed, and riches left stagnant for royalty were better pawned for something actually useful. Upgrades and additions to their vessel and freedom ride, for instance. Those things taken for granted were better off in their hands. Sky Pirating was also a profession that seemed to suit her various talents much better than droll bounties and meaningless labor. She had known that there was more to life outside of Eruyt Village. More to the mundane that oftentimes shrouded Hume cities also. It seemed she had found what she did not even know she was seeking.

Kneeling at the ornate handle barring their goal, Fran diligently rattled and picked at the contraption used to bind it. There was a spell that had made it immobile at first, but it was simple enough to negate it. "A moment's more." Fran murmured quietly back to the partner standing guard over her as she worked. Aside from the dulcet notes from an ornate harpsichord floating down the hallways, security was considerably lax. After a bit more poking around the contraption, exchanging one clear pick for another, each hidden in her hair, a click that signaled its opening announced its give. That singular sound in itself was perhaps the most deafening.

Quietly pushing the door inwards, Fran glimpsed its corner before standing to enter with Balthier behind her. They were in a hushed corridor lined with mulberry colored carpet and priceless little trophies displaying precious gems, embedded within crowns, pendents, tiaras...Anything that was far too gaudy to be worn but perfect for showing off to regal visitors.

"Are these what we sought?" Fran asked thoughtfully, delicately lifting an intricate crystal ring from its artificial finger and turning it in the display light. They would be very well off for a considerable amount of time. Just enough time, though, before the next heist.
 
Balthier quietly pushed the door closed behind them without so much as a sound, his eyes going from one side of the narrow exhibit hall to the other, treasures. "It'll do nicely to meet our ends." He said, holstering his gun on his hip quickly, withdrawing a pair of linen sacks from his belt he tossed one in Fran's direction. "Take what you can carry. You never know when we'll have to get running." He started down the hall, deciding to start on the other side.

He turned the corner to find another hall, a circular showing room at the far end. A tall statue; an ancient king with a sword posed in the ground graced the middle, it almost looked life-like... "Sad... Dalmascans love to live in the past..." He began collecting memorabilia as he worked down the hall towards the statue, "It will be their downfall."
 
Catching the bag fell a portion open to accept the treasures stolen into it. Fran picked what appeared more valuable in their comparable worth and easy to separate into things that might make their resale run more smoothely. A handful of pure gems may have been more than a cheap presentation within a cumbersome necklace. But others were better off left intact. She was thorough as she worked her way back, keeping their weight in mind, catching Balthier's musings. They matched with the figure.

"Change is ever a cumbersome concept," She supported his notion, in a way. "But from where we stand, their relics are welcome." She had been examining a bracelet beaded in crystals when she perked, her attention drawn away and an ear swiveling slightly toward the way they had come. The only exit. "Someone comes."
 
He shoveled in a last piece of treasure into his sack at Fran's warning, throwing it over his shoulder. "Nothing works out perfectly, it would seem." Looking about quickly he nodded to the armored statue. "Let's hide for now, perhaps they're not aware of our presence..." He bound up the statue, hiding behind the huge figure, finding a foothold in the old king's armor.

The door opened...
 
"Isn't this supposed to be locked at all times?" The voices began as they investigated the entrance, and exit, to the room. Guards, from the sounds of rattling armor while they shifted about the open door to analyze it however they could. Not the most fortunate turn of circumstances for their heist, but fortunately two was all they sounded to be. Likely inexperienced from the sounds of it, at that.

"A-Are you sure they didn't just forget to lock it after perusing the treasure room this afternoon?" A younger guard attempted to suggest. There was a thoughtful pause.

" 'Suppose it's possible." The first supported, though he wasn't entirely convinced. After a beat or two more of silence. "Say... Wasn't there a bit more to this room?" Once they had taken notice that a few key things were missing, the tension was palpable. "Go call a few more guards to come investigate but don't alarm the Lord and Lady."

One set of footsteps hurried away while the second proceeded deeper into the room, attentive and slow. Fran gave Balthier a wary glance from her place behind a pillar, waiting. The moment the guard's had passed her she sidestepped silently, reaching out to grasp the jeweled hilt of the display sword and making a diagonal cut. The guard went down with a yelp before shouting for still more help. It was yet too blunt to incapacitate him fully.

"Come!" Fran called urgently, making way to the door with the sword she had acquired before it would be soon filled with guardsmen. The moment she skidded back into the hallway, the rest had just begun to come down the way.
 
Balthier complied, swinging himself off the statue, "Couldn't make it easy for us could you?" He said at the breathless guard as he jumped on top of his helmet, slamming his face onto the ground before bounding over him after Fran. The two blew through the half-open door, sliding simultaneously on the marble floor, they spotted the cavalry coming from the way they came.

"Stop! Thieves!" One shouted, sprinting forward with a lowered spear.

Balthier took aim with his gun, one arm stretched far as he looked down the aim. He cracked off a shot at the guard's helmet, knocking him on his back. "He'll feel that whiplash in the morning." He turned to Fran, nodding, "Shall we?" He started down a diagonal marble floor, opposite of the front gate from where they had infiltrated the castle.

"They'll have closed the front gate. We'll have to make our escape elsewhere." He took a blind shot down the hall behind them as they ran, knocking another guard down. He shouldered the loot more securely as they ran, making sure not to spill any. They ran in the direction of the rear of the castle, they would soon burst through a door into a large hold, several mounts lined the walls...
 
Their situation had obviously begun too easily, run too smoothly. The moment the pair of patrols had noticed something amiss and called the rest of the cavalry a new sense of danger and capture only added to the experience. There had been a map that Balthier had somehow gained a copy and access to. Where the entrance and exits were located could be recalled, but considering the unknowns of what guards were actually stationed where, which doors were actually locked down, fortune and guesses were as good as any other. Along with directions dictated by whichever path led away from immediate capture.

They had managed to sharply turn a few corners that might leave a portion of their pursuers guessing for a moment or two. It was just as well, as the new room they found themselves in was just as, if not more, intriguing than the foyer full of gem treasures. It was a modeling and testing room for an assortment of machina and technology, though it seemed mostly devoted to storage. They may have very well found the rumored invention, or inventions, that the Dalmascans had developed. There were models that had never been seen before, by anyone.

“We can use this.” Fran began, though which she was not yet sure. Knotting the opening of the bag holding her acquired loot, she carried it along with her as her free hand ran over the strange metal bodies of the crafts lined up. The moment she touched one particular vehicle at the end, she located a trunk behind the seat and tossed her winnings into it before moving back to the front. Swinging a leg over the central and single wheel, the machine’s engine glowed a vivid cerulean as it reacted to her touch on either handle. She indicated the seat behind her, “I leave the guards to you, from your throne.”
 
Balthier stood back as Fran chose their escape method, smiling despite the hurried situation. She had a natural affinity for machines, he would have to let her get a better look at the Strahl when they got back. If they got back... Nonsense!

Their pursuers had just gotten through the entrance into the garage, they scanned over the room and spotted the two. Balthier tossed his loot in the back under the chair and slammed the thing shut, jumping off of it and swinging into the chair. "Nothing more suited for the leading man! Let's fly!" He declared, reloading his gun with a loud dramatic click, he held onto the seat with his legs and steadied his arm with both arms. He cracked off a shot as the crowd of guards came down into the threshold. A spear flew over, aimed for Balthier's head. He ducked just in time, "Ah!" He declared in feigned surprise, running a hand through his hair and cracking off a shot at another projectile spear headed right for the blue engine orb.
 
The engine hummed with the sound of a hollow wind as Fran turned the handle to stir it, the wisps of air curling around them to raise the feathery tendrils of her ivory hair. Pulling up it lurched into the air, rocking forward it likewise began in a direction proportional to her weight. The guards either ducked aside or were knocked down by the small and slanted wings extending out behind Balthier's seat. A roll of her ankle on the brake and a sharp turn could be made away from the too small door they had entered where a gathering of guards were trying to clamber in all at once.

"Strike the switch!" Fran called back to her partner as she wrestled with the bumps and jerks of the machine as it chose to be finicky. Despite the intuitive control, matching the intent of her body as it tipped and steered, it would take some taming.

There were several doors and openings to the storage garage, one at the ceiling and two at the end of the long room, one larger than the other. Any of them would do so long as they could hit the button to spring them open in time. A volley of shots scattered around the duo on their mount as a set of guards reset their aim, the propeller wheel at the back wheezing with disgruntlement as it was chipped. It might not endure too much more abuse as she swerved around the stationary displays and hoped that nothing would hit.

The door was still closed, but she headed expectantly towards it, the air rushing and hissing over the ground as she brought it low.
 
Balthier leaned with the mount as she attempted to make turns and jerks as they came under fire. "One escape route, on the house!" He exclaimed, raising his gun high forwards over Fran's head, he pulled the trigger on the door controls. It blew hot in a shower of sparks right beside the door, splashing well over the door's threshold as well, presenting possible danger. "Do it." He said, nodding at the back of his driver's head.

He ducked hard as a projectile hit the back of his chair, jerking the bike forward violently. He hoped Fran would be able to hold the erratic thing steady. He had faith in her... The doorway would lead to a long tunnel that would eventually lead to the outside plains. The Strahl was landed in a set of woods he had designated as safe enough. The port was decidedly too dangerous to lay anchor in.

"Fran, I need to tell you. The ship's parked in the plains. Just go straight away from the castle." he directed, holding on to one arm of the chair with one hand and laying his gun on his shoulder with the other. He might need to make more shots considering what was waiting outside for the pair...
 
The door to the hanger shuddered open as its wiring shattered beneath the gunshot, rattling and struggling up half way before the thing quit completely. Fran revved the handle and pushed down on the pedal on one side, swerving sharply right and tipping the vessel to a sharp tilt as they ducked beneath the gate to clear it. The right side of the base scraped the ground but was otherwise unaffected by the time she pulled upright as quickly as she had evaded the upper clearance. The door behind them clattered to a heavy close as soon as they had passed it, snapping the chaos and sounds away behind them.

Only Balthier’s voice and the hum and sputters of the protesting vehicle met her ears within the long and intermittently lit tunnel. It seemed that they were well on their way to their final goal. The Strahl.

“The plains and forest beyond.” Fran confirmed, gripping tight to encourage the transport to take them there. “Hear me, hold out.” She added for the machine itself. At spot of moonlight at the end contrasted from the artificial light, signaling the end of that tunnel.
 
Balthier lent his weight to the bike as they narrowly tipped over to clear the threshold of the door. Leaning around the chair he shot a round at the mechanism that rolled the door up. It blew off in another shower of sparks, the door coming to a halt before crashing back down with a loud thunder. The sound travelled with them in echoes as they raced down the service tunnel.

He loaded another two rounds into his pistol, snapping it back into place with a barely audible click over the protesting hum of their escape vehicle.Click. "That was a spectacle..." he stated with a cool grin, thankful for the brief moment of quiet. He braced himself into his chair, mentally preparing himself as they approached the lunar light...

The slope went upwards as it lead to a soft hillside. The blew out back into the streets of Rabanastre, no guards were waiting. "Just as I suspected, they couldn't have mobilized the troops fast enough. Onward!" He cried, looking sideways to the crowds of city folk staring in awe at the vehicle and it's two occupants.

He gave a friendly salute to the on-lookers as they passed off. They would be at the plains soon, and would come to the forest, and their ultimate escape.

[[I hope you'll excuse my absent-mindedness, friend. Let's continue.]]
 
If that had been a spectacle that they had left behind in the palace, then the one they displayed flying over the streets of the city was another with no parallel. The air traffic went on much higher above, along with the patrols. Fran attempted to stay low enough to keep out of the way of other vessels roving over the city, high enough to avoid the different shapes and sizes of pedestrians below. A plume of silvery gray and blue smoke was sputtering from the end of the carrier where it had been damaged in their impromptu escape.

Revving the rotating wheel to renew the glow of the magicite powering the engine, Fran willed the thing to press on, the crest of the city gates and those plains beyond coming into view. The way it occasionally shuddered and dipped showed its strain, a few cries coming up from the people below when they happened to chance beneath the passing shadow darting past the shop signs.
It was only a matter of time before the air patrols were tailing them. While the officers may not have realized the depth of their multiple crimes committed in a single night, they certainly knew the violations they made in the public. A twirling red light beamed down and attempted to follow them from the airship hovering overhead.

“Halt! Land and await further instructions from the nearest foot soldier! You are ordered to land!” The voice of the announcer from their speakerphone was mottled with all the noise and wind rushing through her ears as she pressed them back, squinting ahead. Of course, ignoring everything, they broke over the gates and the warning shots from those soldiers guarding it, making a beeline for the cover of the trees.

“Balthier, take flight ahead,” Fran called back as a very brief warning. The vehicle would soon be exhausted and the hatch still needed opening, the engine prepared. Luckily the craft behind them was slow. If they made it in time the Strahl could easily outrun it. Balthier himself could go from his vantage point as soon as she abruptly stopped the brake.
 
She needn't have said a thing to Balthier before they landed, without a reply he bounded off the backseat towards the Strahl, half the hull hidden beneath the canopy of trees. The hiding spot had served them well, their pursuers had no doubt thought they would be chasing them down upon their limping vehicle. He bounded up the ladder to the Strahl's main hold, patting the glossy hull. Such would not be the case...

The sky pirate started the engines warm up process, turning about to the ladder again and jumping down. "We've got a minute before we can take off." He took the loot from her, heaving both over his shoulders and nodding to their newly acquired vehicle. "We shouldn't let the girl go to waste should we? Park her inside the Strahl."

The move was bold, but they would need a short range vehicle for the future. Beyond the gathered trees, roving lights searched for the two thieves, the police airship roved overhead, threatening to spot them.
 
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