Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Edgar stood in front of the two empty chairs in the throne room. Soon he would have to sit there and play the role he was born to play, but for a few more days, this would still be the most quiet place in the castle. It had been so since the previous king fell ill and stopped giving audiences. Since Dad succumbed to poisoning after torturous weeks of agony. Edgar shivered.

The image of his dad’s decaying health often consumed his thoughts, but suddenly he felt observed. Often, there would be eyes fixated on him; at times they felt intrusive and mostly unyielding. Other times, there was a contagious fear that threatened to infect and paralyze him, which was growing more common these days.

Are they here yet? Is the Empire ready to finish what they started and erase the entire Figaro lineage, here and now? Or are they learning me so they can take me out slowly, like they did my father? Will there be a chance to survive if I call for my guards?

Without making a move, he dared to ask, “Eldridge?”

“Yes, Majesty. Forgive my furtiveness; I only mean to be at your disposition,” the Chancellor answered.

I still think of Dad whenever I hear ‘majesty.’ “It’s fine. Did my father ever reveal to you why he kept the two chairs?”

Hearing no answer, Edgar turned to look at the Chancellor.

“Yes. But you are king now; you ought to make up your own mind.” Eldridge said.

“So you are not telling me. I respect you for keeping his secrets.”

“I did tell King Stewart that the extra chair discloses a vacancy. Or a lack.”

“My brother too inherited the throne; he can make his claim if he ever chooses to. The other chair is his.” Edgar smiled.

“Is that the message you want to send out? That when they face you, they’re only facing one half of the nation’s authority?”

Edgar grinned. “Maybe? Or maybe I am in such a desperate search for a queen that I put my neediness on display!”

“The latter works better with the Empire: manageable and unambiguous.” Eldridge said.

“Good. Should we work on my public image before shaking hands with those vultures?”

“With all due respect, Majesty, you don’t need to create this image, only to maintain it.”

Edgar chuckled. “That is why it works! The truth needs no explanations and no extra work.”

The Chancellor came close to speak lower. “King Edgar, these are sanguinary scoundrels who will either have us supporting their execrable bidding or destroy you as soon as they doubt your loyalty.”

“That is the most disdainful and accurate thing I have ever heard you say.” I couldn’t agree more!

Eldridge continued. “This should be the last time we speak ill of the Empire. We will be allies complying with their narrative until we find the way to set the nation free.”

Freedom… That is the ultimate goal, but for the time being, I need to be a very convincing lapdog. “I have been accused of being a good liar, you know?”

“I would not make such an accusation, Majesty. Regardless, lies are unsustainable: honest people smell them, and dishonest people know to expect them. Truths, on the other hand, can always be checked upon and reaffirmed.”

Edgar frowned. “What truths can we allow ourselves to speak about the Empire?”

“They lead in education and scientific innovation. Also, certain products are harvested exclusively on the southern continent. Those should be good for a start.”

“Right. Thank you, Eldridge.” Edgar looked down.

Eldridge placed his hand on Edgar’s head, causing him surprise. He removed his hand and straightened his whole body, inviting Edgar to mirror him. “We cannot allow ourselves to hate our enemies, but we are not obliged to love them.” Eldridge reminded him.

Edgar smiled and nodded. I guess this is the last time you set me straight. I already miss following your lead and looking to you for answers…

The following morning, Edgar ruminated about the man he was about to see.

The first to attempt what the Empire succeeded in doing. He is even worse than them—his own blood! Does he regret causing the death of my beloved Guinevere and good old Jeff? Or does he only regret failing to get Dad? Does he regret anything??

Edgar was good at keeping to himself, but his inner voice often became heavy with the disgust that would never come out of his mouth. Whenever he found himself alone, whether for a few minutes or several hours, he squabbled in his mind about those lowly scumbags who would attack his family. It was a problem, because it meant they owned him; they owned his peace of mind. He had to practice sustaining the pleasant exterior without driving himself insane, and his dad’s brother could help him with that.

Edgar was escorted to the deepest and most secluded area of the castle dungeon. Former Cardinal Francis was the only prisoner kept in there, with nothing but his own thoughts for company.

Francis was sitting on his bed reading. He didn’t react to the noise of someone approaching his cell.

“Francis Raban.” Edgar said, creating an echo in the dungeon.

As a member of the royal family, Francis’ middle name was kept secret, only known to other family members. It didn’t make a difference who was standing by his cell; Francis’ attention remained on his book.

“Uncle Francis!” Edgar said, gaining no reaction.

Edgar continued. “My father, King Stewart, has passed away.”

Still no reaction from Francis.

“I, Edgar, am your king now.” Francis kept reading. Edgar waited a little longer this time, but he didn’t fare well with the silent treatment. “It is all I came here to say.”

Francis turned to look at Edgar with eyes as empty as a doll’s. Edgar blinked repeatedly in the lapse that Francis did one very slow blink.

“I expect you to keep your word.” Francis said, sounding like he had sandpaper for vocal cords.

Edgar wondered what promise he had made. As if reading his mind, Francis raised his voice to clarify. “That this is all you came here to say! Nothing more!”

Edgar widened his eyes in a brief moment of surprise. He regained his practiced stoic expression and then smiled. “It is all. For today.”

He turned away, feeling Francis’ eyes following him until the guard escorted him out of the dungeon.

Edgar wasn’t entirely satisfied with the exchange, but it had been Francis, not him, who got irritated. A modest win was still a win.

The next day, Edgar went to see Francis at the same time. He found him like he did the day before: hunched over, with his nose in that thick, old book that was falling to pieces, yet it looked sturdier than the man who held it.

“Francis!” Edgar waited for a reaction, but he knew not to expect one.

“I would prefer Sabin.” Francis said after a moment, without removing his eyes from the book.

“What?”

“If I must deal with any of you, I would prefer to deal with Sabin.”

“I am not here to fulfill your requests, Francis.”

“THEN WHAT?!!” Francis threw the book to a side and stood up in a sudden move that could have torn apart the decrepit volume and his own scrawny body. The echo of the book hitting the ground had not yet faded when his voice filled the dungeon.

Edgar’s instincts forced him to step back, but otherwise he managed to maintain his posture. There was nothing to worry about; there were bars separating them, and Francis looked pretty fragile after all.

Francis took a deep breath. “A scared boy calling himself king. You cannot even face your prisoner.”

Edgar swallowed hard and forced himself to hold his gaze. “That book of yours looks worn. You would be losing your mind without it, would you not?” Edgar told him, taking relief in breaking eye contact to direct his eyes at the book.

Francis put his hands behind his back and raised his chin. He was about the same height as Edgar, maybe shorter due to his poor posture, but he stood proudly. They stared at each other until Edgar blinked and fixed his eyes on Francis’ one last time, then turned away to leave, moving as steadily as he could manage.

Edgar didn’t like this last performance. With no effort, and in front of no audience, Francis was able to show him off. Having the final word meant very little if Edgar still failed to remain unaffected, or at least to appear so. But keeping composure was only half of the work; he also had to be pleasant towards someone who reciprocated his disgust.

The next day, Edgar showed up with a brand-new copy of the book Francis had and slipped it through the bars. “You are welcome,” Edgar said. Then left without waiting for a reaction.

The following day, Edgar found Francis in the same usual position with the same old book. The book Edgar had brought yesterday was still where he left it, exactly as he left it, completely ignored by Francis.

Edgar stood in front of the cell and recited the first verse from memory: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and empty. Darkness was on the surface of the deep, and God’s Spirit was hovering over the surface of the waters.”

Francis gently shut his book and put it aside. He picked up Edgar’s book from the ground, opened it, and looked through some pages, then gently put it next to his old book. He sat on his bed facing Edgar.

“Do not speak the word.” Francis said between teeth.

“A prisoner does not give orders.” Edgar wanted to show more firmness than in previous days. He was above this man; all he had to do was give him constant reminders of that.

“If you are king, then that makes Sabin a nobody, like me. I prefer the company of my equal to some prideful, vain prick with unearned authority.”

“You are one to talk. You were vain enough to want this position, so much so that you turned into a criminal to have it without earning it.” Edgar smirked.

“Yes.” Francis breathed out the word while looking down. “We are equally unworthy.”

Edgar looked down. The comparison was insulting, but this twisted man could still be reasoned with and talked to. As long as he could find what made his enemy tick, Edgar should be able to deal with anyone. He took a deep breath. “Francis, your brother is gone. I could never stay the same if—”

“So that is it? That is your reason for being here? Stewart is dead, and Sabin is dead too?”

“N—no!” Edgar did not appreciate Francis’ lightness about Sabin’s hypothetical death. Again, Edgar was swallowing hard and avoiding eye contact.

“Ugh… As a royal, you don’t get to mourn your father; you get to succeed your king. The queen didn’t birth sons; she produced one heir and one spare.” Francis said. “If I have to explain this to you, it further proves how unfit for the throne Stewart was. And you are.”

“My father is the most celebrated king in the history of Figaro.” Edgar retorted.

“He died the youngest too. Maybe Figaro likes their monarchs dead.”

Edgar clenched his teeth and fists. Dad would have died even younger if it weren't for you, you scoundrel!

“I hope your miserable life is the longest known to man.” Edgar scoffed and then left the dungeon.

Edgar had hated Francis since he attempted to assassinate his dad. Prior to that, they hadn’t interacted much, but these exchanges were proving effective in creating an even lower image of him in Edgar’s mind.

Was he enjoying this? How miserable is someone whose only aspiration is to aggravate others? Not only is he a criminal, but he is resentful and belittling, as if he were owed something! He also considered Sabin to be his equal. Edgar shuddered. My brother? Equal to that man?!

Edgar was tempted to keep his mental rant about Francis, but he stopped himself.

The truth was that he had walked right into that man’s trap. Knowing of Francis’ cynicism and expecting it wasn’t enough. He had to learn to be undisturbed. He had to remain impersonal when his enemy tried to make it personal. It was a role to play, nothing more. Edgar had to grow into it sooner rather than later.

His father had said little about the way he and Francis were raised. He mentioned that his and Sabin’s mother wanted to raise them as children, not as functions.

Maybe Dad and Francis never saw each other as brothers. Sabin and I hated the idea of being mere cogs in the government machine, fulfilling functions, but that is how Dad and Francis were educated… Francis was an unsung one at that. The ‘spare’…

Edgar could never know what it was like for Francis. He could never know what it had been like for Sabin. What I know is that Sabin rushed to abandon this life as soon as he could.

Another day and Edgar was visiting Francis again. As soon as he stood outside the cell, Francis closed his two books to sit facing Edgar. They only stared at each other.

Edgar relaxed. “If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”

“I am not some simpleton who cares for endowments. You cannot give me anything I want.”

“I did not think so. I want to know what kind of kingdom you were trying to create.”

“The same that everyone wants: a prosperous one.” Francis answered.

“And you thought you could create more prosperity than your brother?”

“Never.” Francis said, expressionless. Edgar’s face must have shown enough confusion, as Francis decided to explain himself. “It is not about the current state of the kingdom; it is about the path it follows. Stewart disgraced all traditions. His descendants, taking after him, will only bring more decadence, and with it, complete collapse.”

“If the royal line is so undeserving, then who would you appoint as king?”

Francis looked away and took a few breaths. “I do not know.”

“We are in a predicament, Uncle! There is no one around who can do a proper job, not even your unworthy self.”

“You say ‘Uncle’? Would you keep your uncle in a dungeon?” Francis didn’t give Edgar time to answer. “No. In a dungeon you put a criminal, not your uncle.”

“Your crime deserves the death penalty. You are in the cleanest, most private, and coziest corner of our dungeon—alive—only because you are my uncle—no! my father’s brother.” Edgar said.

“Exactly. None of you was ever capable of doing what you were supposed to; you half-do everything. At least I can make the hard choices.”

“Was it hard to try to kill your brother? Or to succeed in killing your cousin and her lover?”

Francis stared silently for a minute until his eyes twitched, barely perceptibly. “Inhabiting this wretched body is hard. Every day. Every minute.”

Edgar was immediately reminded of Sabin. Would his health deteriorate like Francis’s? Would he grow old to be just as bitter and cynical? Will he try to avenge Dad and get himself killed or captured? Stop! You are doing it again!

“It was not easy for Dad to keep you alive with so many important people asking for your head. It was not easy to love a peasant and marry her against the establishment.” Edgar choked up for a moment. “Dad made the hard choice of staying true to himself despite opposition.”

“Talking like the hedonist that you are.” Francis shook his head. “Being true to yourself is easy. Try being true to your nation, to God, to something greater than yourself. That is what it takes!”

“That is your excuse?!” Edgar grimaced.

“I do not need excuses.”

“You betrayed your own blood!!”

“I served God!”

Edgar stopped himself from arguing. Francis really thinks he was fulfilling a greater purpose. Isn’t that how Gestahl sees it too? How to tell? That despot would set the world on fire to light himself a cigarette and call it ‘the greater good’…

Francis took a deep breath. “The duty of the knight was to die for his lord, as he did; the duty of Guinevere was to live in celibacy and look after the land left by her late husband, which she did not. I claim no victims.”

Is duty all that matters? We fulfill our duties, then we are good people? “Tell me about your god.” Edgar asked with a calm voice.

“What for? You are irredeemable.” Francis said, his face unchanged.

“I do not look for a deity to pray to; I want to know what motivates you. You do not adore the gods of the nomads, right?”

Francis looked down and kept quiet.

Edgar pulled the golden bead necklace he wore around his neck. “For the coronation, I took vows and got baptized.” He brought out a large golden cross embedded with sapphires. “This is the symbol of your god, correct? The same that the first king of Figaro commended the nation to?”

“That drunken savage found the old forgotten scriptures and twisted their meaning to his advantage. I honor the scriptures.” Francis said, keeping his voice and head low.

“There is no pleasing you! We are on the same side and want the same things, but you chose to turn us into enemies when we could have collaborated.”

“The goal means nothing if achieved by foul means.” Francis said.

Edgar sighed. That is not wrong… But doesn’t he realize the error of his ways? “Uncle, what are the right means to pursue our goals?”

“Honor the tradition and follow its rules.” Francis said.

“Some rules are meant to be broken. Otherwise, how could we become better people?”

“The rules of men are meaningless. The rules of God make us better.”

“Your book was written by men. Chances are, the rules in it came from men.” Edgar said.

“Men make rules for their own satisfaction. The rules of God challenge us to relinquish satisfaction.”

Edgar took a deep breath and stood back. He frowned, letting his eyes wander as Francis’ words sank in.

Does he condemn every single thing that brings satisfaction? Those are the very things that make us human… He is such a miserable, pathetic, broken man…

“Sounds like you are on a mission to crush your own soul.” Edgar quietly.

Francis fixed his cold and immutable eyes on Edgar. “The soul cannot be crushed. If you feel crushed, that is just your conceitedness crying for mercy as it gets purged.” He said with a gravity in his voice that Edgar could only interpret as condemnation.

Edgar frowned and shut his eyes. He opened them to reciprocate Francis’ emotionless stare. “Did it crush you? When you betrayed your brother?”

For a fleeting moment, there was a spark in Francis’ eyes.

“Like you could never know.” Francis said quietly.

Edgar shook his head. “I am not sure I understand… I do not think I want to…”

After a while, Francis spoke. “Irredeemable, you are. I already said all that was worth saying.”

Those were Francis’ last words before going back to his reading. After this, he never talked again and spent his time immersed in his books, refusing to give attention to anyone.

Edgar had to acknowledge his commitment. Francis was depraved, but he was capable of incredible discipline and dedication. He is extremely loyal to his ideals. His process is solid, but his input is foul, so his output is also foul… No, that is not it. Other clerics live by the same ideals, and they do not turn out like that… Are his aspirations foul? He said he wanted prosperity, but not at the cost of our traditions…

The Chancellor knocked on Edgar’s office door before entering. “King Edgar, were your conversations fruitful? I am told that Prince Francis will not speak anymore.”

“It was an interesting exercise.” Edgar said, with some exhaustion in his voice. As king, I had the upper hand the entire time, and he still got to me; it was a major failure. I cannot let it get personal with Gestahl. If he brings up Dad or Sabin… I need to keep it together…

“Eldridge, I am trying to determine how much we can allow ourselves to surrender. Where do we draw the line with the Empire?” Edgar asked.

“Phrasing it in terms of ‘surrender’ is detrimental. As stewards of Figaro, we stand—even to the Empire—for the inalienable aspects that define the nation, namely its borders, its people, and its culture.”

Edgar sighed and lowered his head. Culture… including traditions and the rules that define them…

“Was it not what you wanted to hear, Majesty?” Eldridge asked.

“You make Francis sound sane.”

“Prince Francis always had a sound mind. But do not let a sound argument convince you of injustice.”

“Yes… Thank you, Eldridge.”

The Chancellor bowed and excused himself.

Is justice something mere mortals can achieve? The most we can strive for is a chance to get even—‘an eye for an eye,’ as Jeff used to say…

The satisfaction of laying my hands on the one who took Dad… … … …

The fire in Edgar’s chest craved for equal ground where he could do only as much harm to his enemy.

…It would only bring us closer to ‘making the whole world blind.’ Damn you, Francis; Jeff too is making you sound sane…

Edgar chuckled, betraying his righteous fury.

How would I ever be worthy of your love, my dearest Guinevere, when I keep failing at being as good a man as our incorruptible Jeff?

Chapter Text

Tears streamed down Sabin’s face. His brother had decided to leave his fate to chance—the chance to follow that same beaten path that insidiously led their father to the grave before his time.

Sabin hugged his brother with all the strength he could muster, which wasn’t much. He sobbed bitterly, wishing that just for one moment he could put enough strength in his embrace so it expressed what his broken heart didn’t allow him to articulate.

“They’re dead inside… Big brother!” We can’t stay here; they’ll do the same to us.

Sabin buried his face in Edgar’s chest. As soon as he felt Edgar’s arms around him, he knew Edgar would not argue, and that he had to leave immediately or he would get cold feet. Sabin stood back and looked at Edgar one last time. His big brother’s loving eyes were overwhelming. Sabin had to depart at once; it was now or never.

“Bye.” Sabin whispered and turned around. He heard no answer.

Sabin rushed to his bedroom, took a small bag, and put in whatever clothes he owned that were ordinary, modest, and unbecoming. He didn’t own too many pieces like that; at least he would travel light. Riding a chocobo into the desert as fast as the bird could stand didn’t take him as far as he hoped. The bird now trotted, and there was nothing he could call civilization in sight.

You’re exhausted. I’m sorry, I didn’t even bring water for you… or for me.

Sabin kept looking back, afraid that the castle guards would come after him or that the officers in the watchtowers across the desert would spot him and…

I don’t even want to think about it. Come on, we need to move faster; we need to make it out of the desert before sunrise.

He rode for a few hours and not enough miles. The sun illuminating the right side of his face confirmed that they had been too slow. Soon the people in the castle would notice his absence and would come after him to crush his dreams for good. Sabin shed bitter tears at the impending fear of losing his freedom forever.

His eyes widened, filled with hope when he spotted smoke far in the horizon. He was too afraid to rush towards it, but deep inside he hoped it would be the vehicle to his liberation.

The smoke came from a camp, a caravan of merchants preparing to continue their journey to the nearest town. With renewed enthusiasm, Sabin came down from his chocobo and sent it away.

I am nobody. I’m just some guy trying to make it to the nearest town. My name will be… not ‘Sabin’… definitely not ‘René’… Mmmmaybeee… Jeff! Yes, I’m Jeff, the nomad!

He untied his ponytail and messed his hair, trying to not look like himself. He ran towards the caravan and frantically waved at them.

Trying his best to imitate the High Priestess Prieur’s accent and with a fake, coarse voice, he assumed his new persona. “I’m from the eastern tribe. I was trying to make my way to the nearest town to buy medicine, but my chocobo got scared by a nut-eater.”

“I see.” The caravan leader said. “Chocobos are noble but also cowardly and stupid.”

Sabin lowered his head, feeling called out. Fortunately, they welcomed him into the group, as was customary; a lone traveler in the desert would surely die if left to his own devices.

This was really stupid. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for the caravan… No, I can’t keep going back and forth on this! It’s done. This is a sign that I made the right choice!

Over the following few days, Sabin was dejected to find that the provisions were scarce, and the travel was long and tiring. The days felt like a surreal, mindless repetition. In a way, it reminded him of his childhood, when he spent his time bedridden, fighting disease, but there was a different flavor to this repetition: the caravan had no beds and barely took breaks; if he didn’t pull his own weight, he’d perish.

Exhausted, hungry, and thirsty, he finally made it. South Figaro was familiar but it felt like a completely new experience. The town square smelled of freshly made bread and tea; a walk around the market invigorated him with the loud and fast-paced energy of trade, and it brought the sight of flowers of all shapes and colors that he couldn’t even name.

Decidedly, he sat on a bench in the park to give his legs some rest and to get acclimated. The town’s vibrancy felt like applause to him. This was his most meaningful achievement, which he was very proud of. Then his heart betrayed him. All he wanted was to share this with his brother, whom he had left behind for good. Sabin’s greatest prowess only brought him shame.

We were supposed to do this together. What good is it to be free while you remain locked up? Big brother, why would you choose that for yourself? I never wanted to lose you. I never wanted to do this without you…

But I still did it… Sabin swallowed hard.

Should I go back?

But then what will I do?

He was nobody, and he had nothing but a chance to start over. Around him, nothing seemed to have changed; life would continue with or without him. South Figaro clearly wasn’t affected.

And there I was, worried about my absence being noticed. Do they even know about Dad? Does it change anything for them?

‘The king is dead. Long live the king,’ and then everything goes back to normal…

They’re my dad and my brother! They’re not just blocks you swap around!!

He punched the bench he was sitting on until his hands hurt.

Brother, you are doomed. I’m doomed as well, no matter where I go or what I do…

At least we were together sharing the same confinement, but now… I think I made it worse…

I can’t go back…

Backtracking was not an option, no matter what. If the current state of things didn’t make Edgar want to leave, probably nothing ever would. Figaro Castle was not safe; being king of Figaro was a trap.

I can’t just leave you there!!

“Master Duncan!” Sabin knocked on the main door.

Getting directions to Duncan’s house was the easy part, making it to where it stood, in the outskirts of South Figaro required effort and energy that he didn’t think he had. He knocked on the door and kept knocking while waiting for an answer. Sabin was indescribably tired, but he kept knocking. He switched hands, not to lose the pace, and then kept knocking. Then he switched hands again.

Please, Master Duncan; my legs are burning, my feet feel like they’ll collapse at any minute, and now my hands and arms are getting just as sore…

Well, at least I got symmetrical workouts for all limbs… hee hee, ha ha…

Duncan had to be there; otherwise, Sabin would be completely lost.

It took long enough, but the door opened. “I knew it was your voice, but I didn’t expect you here, Sabin.” Duncan said as he came out.

“I really needed to see you, Master Duncan.” Sabin’s pleading voice kept no secrets.

“So the rumors are true. I’m sorry about your father.” Duncan looked him up and down. “Is everything alright at the castle? Does the nation still stand?”

Sabin nodded. “Yes, my brother will take charge. I need you to train me!”

“Our next session is in a couple of days.”

“No, I need you to train me like a real monk. I want to follow your path; that’s why I’m here!” Sabin wanted to transmit his enthusiasm and conviction to Duncan.

Duncan’s face was expressionless. “There’s no need to get ahead of yourself. Go home, Sabin; I’ll see you in a few days.”

Duncan went inside and closed the door behind him leaving Sabin to stare at the closed door in disbelief. Covering his face with his hands would not suffice to cover his shame. By now he had to be the biggest failure Figaro had ever birthed.

I don’t have a home anymore…

I can’t return to the castle. I can’t sit and wait for you and then keep doing what I’ve been doing! The same thing I was doing while my dad got poisoned!

Sabin shook his head. “The effort I’ve been putting will not do. It won’t do anything for anyone…”

If I stay in South Figaro, what will I do then? I can’t do anything for myself… I’m so tired… I did it all wrong. Every single decision I made, every action I took, was wrong…

Was there ever a chance of getting this right?

“Hey! You want Duncan to take you in? What for?” A young voice asked.

Sabin wiped his eyes and looked around to find a young man coming from the backyard. He was about his same age and wore a martial arts uniform.

“You’re Vargas, right?” Sabin asked.

“Myeah.” Vargas replied lazily.

“I want to f—fight for Figaro!” Sabin asserted.

“That’s a flaky reason, alright.”

Sabin felt embarrassed for a moment, but he knew he wanted this. “How can you say that?! I can’t think of a better reason to do this!”

“They say you’re the dumb twin. Now I get it.” Vargas didn’t smile but seemed to enjoy offending Sabin. “What if the Empire takes over? If Figaro becomes a puppet state, like townspeople fear, will you fight for the Empire?”

The thought made Sabin’s stomach revolt; luckily it had no food inside. His disgust must have been palpable for Vargas to show enough patience to insist. “Think harder. Why do you want this?”

Sabin focused and frowned, looking for the answer that would be convincing enough, but he couldn’t think beyond what he had already decided.

I meant every word I said to Edgar. I’m sick of drama, I’m sick of conflicts! I just wanted us to live freely. But I can’t claim my freedom as long as Edgar doesn’t have his…

“I want to protect my brother. I want to be strong enough to take care of myself and help him fend off the Empire.” Sabin answered.

“Well, since you’re the dumb one, I don’t see you helping with any of the thinking. Brute strength really is your best bet—a foolish bet, given your odds.” Vargas said.

Sabin kept his head down, wishing for a good comeback, but the more he thought about it, the more he had to accept that Vargas was ill-mannered but still correct.

Vargas looked past Sabin. “Where’s your chariot? And your entourage? And your load of royal crap?”

“I left those in the castle. A monk doesn’t have those things.” Sabin said lowly.

“No, a monk doesn’t.” Vargas said. He looked upwards. “Does that sound good to you, old man?”

“Sounds alright.” Duncan said from the balcony. “But what do you think, Vargas?”

“I think it sounds alright.” Vargas replied, sounding more bored than before.

Vargas opened the door and gestured to Sabin to come inside. “You’re one of us. You train and work like the rest of us and get treated like the rest of us. You are no highness.” Vargas said.

Sabin’s smile couldn’t have gotten any bigger. “Thank you, Vargas! Thank you so much!”

“I meant everything I said. You’re dumb. You’re also soft and weak. I’ll keep bringing up your deficiencies as long as I keep seeing them.” Vargas said with folded arms.

“Heh! I doubt you can tell me anything I don’t already know!” Sabin smiled.

The adaptation was not as fast as Sabin had hoped. He was almost the same age as Vargas and had trained under Duncan for several years, but the dedication required to become a real monk was a life commitment. When he first arrived at the dojo, Sabin already knew how to throw kicks and punches, and he knew the jargon and the routine exercises; he wasn’t a beginner, but he didn’t have the condition and expertise of a senior student. The disparity was evident, but more so when it came to the use of mystical energy, that which made Duncan a living legend. Sabin’s command of the mystical arts ranked below Duncan’s youngest students.

I will get there. I won’t stop until I get there. Sabin would tell himself.

Some techniques were imparted and practiced in the dojo, while others were known to be ‘for the advanced seeker to explore on his own.’

It had become habitual that, once a week, after a good day of hard work and training, in the deepest hours of the night, some students would get up and stealthily leave the dojo. Hours later, they would return quietly; sometimes Sabin wouldn’t even notice. The next morning, no one would talk about it; it was another day of hard work and training.

I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without Master Duncan’s instruction, I’m sure of that! But what do the others know that I don’t? Why are they so secretive? Could it be related to how they use mystical energy? …

The following week, training went normally.

During instruction, Duncan read a passage from an old manuscript: “Supreme self-control is achieved in the reversal of sexual intercourse in the blissful Buddha-poise and the untrammeled vision of one's spouse.”

He put the text away to explain. “‘Reversal of intercourse’ means restraint. The creative force inside each of us holds great power; if you don’t master it, it will consume you. If you master it, you find bliss. Meditate on this, young ones.”

The students were dismissed to do their own meditation. Vargas silently followed Sabin and sat next to him. Sabin started counting beads, and Vargas followed along.

I’ll start from the last one. Let’s see if I can remember them…

Inhale. Wrath. Exhale and clear it away… Inhale. Voluptuousness. Exhale it away… Inhale. Violen—

“Sabin.” Vargas whispered.

“Violence… Hffff… I’m not listening.” Sabin whispered back, maintaining his posture.

“Headiness… Hffff… Want to join us tonight?” Vargas said.

Sabin opened one eye. “Presumption… Hffff…”

Vargas smiled. “Unyieldingness… Hffff… We’re going to the hot springs.” He whispered.

Sabin broke his posture and looked at Vargas. “Master Duncan doesn’t know, does he?”

“No. And neither do I, and neither do you! You will see nothing, hear nothing, and say nothing.” Vargas whispered. “I’ll tap you on the shoulder. Come along if you want.”

With that, Vargas stood up and left Sabin to his meditation.

Late at night, Sabin was dozing off when he felt the tap on his shoulder. Vargas didn’t wait, Sabin quietly got up and followed the group. Everyone marched silently.

As soon as they arrived to the hot spring, to Sabin’s surprise, everyone would quietly and calmly strip naked. Some would go into the water, some would sit and meditate, and some would team up in couples or trios or more and start making out.

Sabin looked at Vargas, who only gestured with his index finger to keep quiet. Vargas stripped, brought out a flask, and drank from it, then passed it over to Sabin. As soon as Sabin drank he felt lightheaded.

Master Duncan prohibits those types of beverages.

Sabin gave back the flask. Vargas smirked, drank the rest of its contents and went into the spring.

Sabin’s heartbeat was picking up and his body kept getting warmer. No words were being spoken, but the people were getting noisier: some hummed and panted, but the most eager would grunt and moan.

Master Duncan would not encourage this. Is this some kind of test? Or is this how advanced student s explore the mystical arts?

Oof, they’re spending that sacral energy like the world is about to end…

This is really getting to me. It’s sooo tempting… I need a cold shower!

He went into the water, which was hotter than his own body and very relaxing. This place had no duties and kept no score, there wasn’t a care in the world. No one spoke, no one judged, and no one argued.

I get it. I really get why everyone is letting go. This place is so peaceful, private, and… welcoming… And… Oh wow, those two over there are really hitting it! No ‘reverse intercourse’ in that, haha!

And that other one, going at it solo and hands-free—that’s quite a talent!

And those other ones by the bushes: one, two, three… What is that, a human pyramid?! Where does one end and the other begin? Just how many are they?!!

Sabin looked away. It’s none of my business. I need to meditate!!

He sat on a rock under the cascade, feeling the hot water running down his body. The sound of the water numbed the noises of his companions, but they lingered in his mind. He still wore his bead necklace, so he closed his eyes and started passing beads, one by one, not too worried about the order.

Inhale. Lechery. Exhale it away… Inhale. Lust. Exhale… Inhale. Exhale… Oh gosh… Inhale. Exhale… Masochism… Inhale. Exhale… Inhale. Exhale…

He was breathing harder. Unable to think of the transgressions he was supposed to meditate away, he leaned back and rubbed himself, giving proper attention to that part that burned for touch. He held it upwards to get the hot water to hit it directly at the tip. The constant, strong stream of hot water hitting his most sensitive spot stimulated him in a way his hand couldn’t. He panted, trying not to get noisy, but his entire body was giving in, and eventually his voice did too. Enveloped in the hot, life-giving fluids of Mother Nature, a vision formed in his mind; it was the most enticing sight that his imagination could evoke. It became as tangible as the water around his body, and it saw him through his eager panting until he released himself. Then the vision was gone. Sabin opened his eyes to the starry night and the moonless sky. The water still tickled his body, washing away whatever tension he still carried.

He came out of the water, put on his clothes, and returned to the dojo by himself.

The next day after the routine activities, instead of meditating, Sabin went to find Duncan, who sat by the garden, watching the sunset.

“Master Duncan. Can I talk to you?” Sabin asked.

“You can. You often do without even asking me. What’s different this time?” Duncan smiled.

“Right. I had a… very vivid intimate dream…” Sabin avoided eye contact.

“Pretty normal in fertile men between the ages of twelve and one hundred twelve. Tidy up and don’t leave your descendants on the sheets or on the bathroom wall. Haha!”

Sabin snorted. “Understood!” Feeling relaxed, he continued. “Master Duncan, you taught us about the bliss of restraint… But the bliss of non-restraint! That’s… something!”

“You’re thinking bliss is the same as pleasure. This confusion is what traps people in the one hundred and eight desires.” Duncan said, pointing at Sabin’s necklace.

“I know they’re not the same thing…” Sabin looked away.

“Do you remember the difference between heaven and hell?” Duncan asked.

“Hell is a feast of delicious food that you have to eat with giant chopsticks. Heaven is the exact same, except that people are allowed to feed one another.” Sabin answered.

Duncan raised his eyebrows at him.

“So… heaven is when you can rely on someone.” Sabin affirmed.

“That is one aspect of it. In hell you are forever starved. In heaven you get nourishment; you become stronger, more capable.” Duncan placed his hand on Sabin’s shoulder. “If you find that you’re always craving, you are in hell. People stay in hell because there’s pleasure, but there’s no strength, no mastery, and no bliss.”

“Hmmm… Thank you, Master Duncan.” Sabin smiled and turned away.

“Wait!! Go clean the bathroom! And wash your sheets!” Duncan yelled.

“They’re clean! I didn’t do anything there!” Sabin said.

“I don’t care. You made me think about it; now go clean up the mess you say you didn’t do!”

Sabin sighed. “Yes, Master Duncan. Thank you for your advice.”

“And the next time you feel unrestrained, go clean the bathroom again!” Duncan suggested.

Sabin shut his eyes. “Yes, Master Duncan.”

“You know?” Duncan started.

“I know, Master Duncan. Next time I’ll clean the bathroom and wash the sheets.”

“That’s not what I was going to say, but if you insist, have at it!”

Sabin sighed and lowered his head.

“What I was going to say is that you’re the only student to come to me with this concern.” Duncan smiled at Sabin, then turned to see the sunset.

The following week, Sabin heard the students getting up in the middle of the night. Vargas tapped him on the shoulder, but Sabin did not get up.

The next day, during the afternoon meditation, Vargas sat next to Sabin. Sabin didn’t count beads; he only breathed, waiting for Vargas to speak his mind. After several minutes, they only kept breathing quietly, so Sabin opened his eyes to find Vargas staring at him.

“Cold feet?” Vargas asked.

“I want to follow the rules and see where that gets me before I branch out.”

“Last week we left you by yourself so you’d get comfortable, as you did. Last night you were going to get my full attention. You missed out.” Vargas said.

Well, that’s flattering! “I’m sorry. I want to do this Duncan’s way.”

Vargas narrowed his eyes, frowned with his mouth, and looked him up and down. “That’s how authorities keep you small, you idiot! They find something wrong with anything you enjoy, anything that gives you motivation. They keep you from being your best self!”

Sabin nodded. “I know what you mean. I—”

“No, you don’t! You’re a good little boy, always doing as you’re told. You’ll never grow if you don’t step away from his influence!”

I don’t like secrecy, and I don’t like your tone. “I’m willing to take that risk.” Sabin said plainly.

Vargas looked down at Sabin’s crossed legs and started running his hand through Sabin’s inner thighs, moving up towards his crotch. Sabin didn’t stop him. The loose pants allowed Vargas’ hand to caress and grope. He looked at Sabin’s face to be met with a high chin and austere eyes that challenged him. Sabin’s body did not respond to his touch.

Vargas frowned again. “Your loss.” He stood up and left.

Chapter Text

“Vargas! Stop!!” someone yelled from a distance.

“Oh, it’s Sabin!” said the man who, for no apparent reason, had decided to attack them.

Edgar froze.

What? That was Sabin talking? My little brother’s voice is so vivid in my memory; I did not expect this. But it is his voice! I can tell! It’s just… rougher; older.

And he’s as big as that other man! Not in a million years would I have guessed! But I would have recognized him, I know I would! My heart wouldn’t beat like this if it wasn’t my brother! Little brother, how dare you getting taller than me?! Haha!

Brother, do you recognize me? I haven’t changed as much. I’m sure you recognize me!!

A shy smile formed on Edgar’s lips as he watched wide-eyed what had become of his once weak and sickly younger twin. Edgar was lost for words. He hoped that Sabin would realize his presence and have the same palpitations, the same joy, and the same mist in his eyes. The next thing he knew was that Locke pulled him by the arm, away from his brother’s view.

Sabin came right on time to stop that man from dispatching them.

Edgar watched them throwing punches and kicks at each other, getting fiercer with each exchange and faster than his eyes could grasp. They used techniques that he couldn’t decipher, that didn’t even appear to be of the human realm. Both were formidable.

The other man, Vargas, had overpowered Terra, Locke, and him; Sabin was all on his own fighting Vargas to death, a horrifying thought that luckily did not materialize. Sabin bested his enemy, so much so that he even let him live.

After seeing Vargas flee, Sabin stood still with his back turned towards them; he breathed heavily, both his body and his garment looking worn and battered.

“Sabin!!” Edgar called as he strolled towards him.

Sabin jolted. “Big brother?”

Edgar was smiling again. Of course he recognizes my voice! Aw, but he looks so confused. Come on, Sabin, I haven’t changed that much!

Sabin only stared. Was he gawking or still catching his breath? Terra and Locke rushed to greet him and immediately started drawing comparisons.

Edgar rejoiced. It was the heat of the moment; that’s all. Everyone’s getting along now!

“Anyway, brother, what are you doing here?” Sabin asked.

The words stabbed through Edgar’s chest. Just like that, brother? I know you didn’t expect me here; my timing is terrible! I know the last time we talked, we ended up choosing opposite ways of dealing with the situation. But I’m so happy to see you! I just wanted to…

No, you’re right to question me. I didn’t come here just to see you…

“We're on the way to the Sabre mountains.” Edgar replied with the same tone as Sabin’s.

“Could that mean... the Returners’ hideout?” Sabin’s eyes widened and cleared as if he had just woken up from a dream and started remembering reality.

Now I see you, brother! Edgar nodded with a proud smile.

Beyond Edgar’s highest expectations, Sabin asked to join them, excited to offer his martial skills to the cause and to honor Master Duncan’s memory. However, the mention of Duncan brought back that strange nebulousness to Sabin’s eyes. I hate that I can’t feel what you feel. Edgar lamented.

That night, Sabin offered to mount watch first, and Edgar would follow. Sitting together by the campfire, Edgar observed him. Sabin had been behaving as cheerful as he remembered, but he seemed to zone out as soon as there was silence. As per Edgar’s estimation, there was exhaustion in his eyes, like that of a guard who hasn’t slept in days, and sadness, like that of a knight who survived his brother-in-arms, but whenever Sabin talked, he was carefree as a child and eager as a novice servant.

It was easy for Sabin to brush off any concern from his companions and act as if nothing happened; he performed better than the rest of them on all fronts. Edgar concluded that checking on him would predictably produce a boastful affirmation from Sabin, so he gave it up and called it a night.

The group continued their journey, taking short breaks only when utterly necessary. In the evening, after mounting the camp, Sabin would take the opportunity to do his routine stretches in an attempt to stay in shape. He was yet to figure out the proper ratio of training and recuperation for this type of quest. Too many things had happened in only a few days, leaving him with no time to adjust.

It’s not like I need the time; I’ll adjust along the way. This is what I trained for, after all. Sabin thought.

He went over to the campfire and waved goodnight to Locke, then headed to the tent he shared with Edgar.

Tonight, it was Locke and Terra’s turn to mount guard, so Sabin would get a much-needed full night's sleep since leaving Mount Kolts.

“Where have you been?” Edgar asked, keeping his eyes on the paper he held in his hands.

Aw, talking in our native language! How I’ve missed it! “I was doing my evening routine. Is everything alright?” Sabin asked, noticing the stack of documents Edgar was going through.

Edgar smiled at him. “Oh yes! This is just what my evening routine looks like.” He continued doing his revision.

Sabin lay on his back, committed to letting himself relax. However, he couldn’t help but observe Edgar, who kept attentive to his task.

Those are some thick glasses you’re wearing. I bet I could see the future with those! Hehe…

You look so focused. Big brother, are you sure everything is fine?

But it’s not like I can ask you about the content of those papers. Some must be confidential and… I relinquished… everything…

Edgar removed the glasses and looked at him with a smirk. “Do you want to know what this is?”

“Tell me!” Sabin smiled.

“I must warn you, the details in this are quite intimate.” Edgar winked.

“Wwwhat do you mean?” Sabin raised an eyebrow.

“This is a detailed rendition. She’s very sophisticated and voluptuous. I find her quite fascinating!”

Sabin turned stern. “Brother. Seriously?”

Edgar waggled his eyebrows. “Check it out.”

Before Sabin could avoid getting flashed, Edgar turned and lifted the paper to show it to him.

“A blueprint!” Sabin chuckled. He sat up and punched Edgar on the arm.

“Ow!” Edgar struggled to keep his voice low.

Sabin lay on his back again. “So you still like machines that much. That’s great!”

“Like?” The tools I use all came from here.” Edgar pointed at his temple. “Did you expect any less of your big brother?”

“I assumed you were talking about some girl you were chasing.” Sabin said, slightly embarrassed.

“Brother, I don’t chase; they gravitate toward me!”

“Oh no…” Sabin covered his face with his palm.

“That’s why I always carry some of this.” Edgar put the papers away and brought out a jar containing white stuff.

“Brother. Please don’t tell me that you expect to find some girl to give a massage to while we run for our lives.” Sabin said, raising his eyebrows.

“Mmmmm… Now you’re giving me ideas…” Edgar rubbed his chin.

“Big brother!”

Edgar grinned. “You naughty! This stuff makes my hair soft and shiny.” He scooped some out from the jar and started rubbing it on his hair.

Sabin conceded him a faint smile. “Fine, I’ll let it slide…”

The long hair was one of the first things I gave up. And the clean shave. It was a luxury at times. Other times it was kind of burdensome. Now that I think about it, I don’t know if I miss those things… When we were little, you enjoyed nature as much as I did. I guess by now you have grown more accustomed to the castle life. Your near-sighted eyes sure have…

“How do you like this opportunity to commune with nature?” Sabin asked.

“Well… Something about communing with nature feels liberating, though uncivilized.” Edgar said.

“Uncivilized is exactly how Mother Nature intended us to be.” I think I only wear pants out of consideration for others!

“Nature intended for men to walk around naked. We’d be dead if we did that in the desert. The time comes when men must challenge nature.”

“Expand our nature, Roni; never challenge it or go against it.” Sabin winked.

Edgar blinked, slightly taken aback. “Yes!” He smiled. “One should never go to war against himself.”

Sabin looked at him and whispered, “Never.”

Edgar crawled on his knees towards Sabin, almost sitting on his hips. He softly undid Sabin’s ponytail and started rubbing his hair with the remainder of the white stuff left on his hands. Sabin closed his eyes, letting himself feel the gentle fingers running through his scalp.

“That feels good.” Sabin mumbled through a smile.

Moments later, Sabin felt the warm hands kneading his shoulders and moving upwards, caressing the sides of his neck and his earlobes.

Edgar spoke with a low, soft voice. “All that you did to become like this, did it come natural to you, René?”

“Hmmm…” Sabin breathed deeply and slowly while thinking with his eyes still closed. “Yes. But I didn’t know it was my nature until I fully committed.”

“Did it ever feel like… punishment?” Edgar asked.

“Hmmmmmmmmm…” The heaviness that lingered on Sabin’s shoulders was being relieved by Edgar’s solicitous touch. The last thing Sabin wanted was to think so hard about anything. “At times. Doesn’t matter, it’s all good now…”

“Sure…” Edgar’s thumbs made firm, circular movements on Sabin’s pectorals. “Just don’t overdo it. You need to be gentle with yourself.” Edgar whispered in Sabin’s ear.

“I’m as gentle as I need to be.” Sabin said.

Keep doing what you’re doing. That’s all I need right now…

Edgar’s hands moved to the sides, caressing Sabin’s abdomen and reaching down to his hipbones. Absorbed by instinct, Sabin continued caressing his own chest while Edgar worked his way down his torso.

Edgar got close once more to whisper to Sabin’s ear. “Guide my hands. Where do you want them, René?”

Keep going; I could lose myself here and now…

But wait, we can’t! Not here, not now!

Sabin opened his eyes and quickly grabbed Edgar’s hands, gently bringing them close to his face to lay a kiss on each. They kept their eyes fixed on each other’s. Edgar’s body tensed for a moment; there was a peculiar intensity in his gaze.

Edgar looked below. “I’m curious about this.” He said. Then he fiddled with Sabin’s bead necklace.

“Oh, that!” Sabin shook his head slightly, as if coming out of a trance. “Ummm, I use it for meditation. The beads represent the desires a monk must overcome.” He guided Edgar’s fingers. “From the tassel: abuse, aggression, anger, arrogance; all the way through, to finish at wrath.”

“Is lust included?” Edgar asked. He smiled and continued asking before Sabin could answer. “And pride? And greed? I forget the others; I know there are seven…” He looked away, trying to remember.

“Oh! Yes, those you mentioned are included!” Sabin rushed to answer.

Edgar smiled wider. “What about being alluring, and audacious, and honorable?”

“Heh, don’t worry, those get a pass.” Sabin smiled, caressing Edgar’s legs.

“Good, then you’re not a sinner!” Edgar grinned and removed himself from atop. “Sorry to keep you up. I’ll let you sleep now.” He immediately shut off the gas lamp and took his place next to Sabin, keeping still and quiet, as one who intends to sleep does.

Sabin still worked on cooling himself down.

It was he who put a stop to it; he should go to sleep and be done with it. That’s what the mind wanted but had trouble accomplishing.

Big brother, don’t you feel what I feel?

The journey continued, and they made it to the Returners’ hideout.

Banon tried to convince Terra to join their ranks, but she needed time to make up her mind, so he went to catch up with Edgar in the library room.

“Our intelligence was correct after all. The Empire hasn’t closed the front at Doma and continues moving forward, opening new fronts.” Banon affirmed.

“Gestahl is conscientious, not one to rush into conquests. He must have an ace up his sleeve.” Edgar assessed.

Banon sighed. “Did you have the chance to look at the latest blueprints?”

“Yes. It’s all I’ve been doing for the past several nights.” Edgar looked away.

“You don’t look optimistic.”

“I couldn’t get enough insights. The latest papers describe some type of life-support chamber, maybe an advanced medical device, not weapons.”

“Locke subtracted the papers from someone who was confirmed to be involved in the so-called ‘Magitek Program.’ Could they be setting us up?”

Edgar’s eyes wandered around. “I don’t know.”

“Is the device meant to support human life? Maybe other life-forms?” Banon asked.

Edgar shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Could the device play a part in the process of harnessing magic?” Banon asked.

Edgar shut his eyes, as if trying to force himself to think harder.

Banon sighed. “Take a wild guess if you don’t know.”

“It could be a step of the process, but I can’t determine at what stage this device comes into play.” Edgar answered.

“The big, blond guy—is that Sabin?” Banon asked.

Edgar smiled as if lightning had jolted him back to life. “Yes! He found us in Mount Kolts and decided to join us!”

“Is he an engineer?” Banon asked.
Edgar dropped his shoulders. “No, sir. He’s a monk, one of Duncan’s students.”

Banon lowered his head and remained pensive.

“Then… I need to think.” Banon said and walked out of the room.

Edgar stayed, looking through the bookshelves.

Later, there was a soft knock on the door, and Sabin came in.

Oh! Big brother’s got that stern, serious look again!

Edgar raised his gaze from his book and papers to smile at Sabin.

Sabin smiled back. “Still busy with that blueprint?”

Edgar grinned. “Yes! Am I becoming that predictable?”

“Yes, but in a good way!” It’s good to see you doing what makes you happy. “I’ll go make myself useful and give you two some privacy~.” Sabin said.

“Close the door behind you, because we’re about to get lewd here!” Edgar smirked.

Sabin shook his head. I better go and do as I said; I’ll go insane if I just sit and wait.

Sabin walked around the place, resolute to find the corner where the most activity was happening. It turned out to be the storage room, where the rebels kept different types of supplies. Rearranging boxes and helping them organize items was an activity Sabin was very used to.

Chop wood and carry water…

He remembered the words in the voice of Master Duncan: ‘What does a monk do before enlightenment? Chop wood and carry water. What does a monk do after enlightenment? Chop wood and carry water. But now without resistance…’

Sabin shook his head. Duncan’s voice made him… uneasy. He recited the words in his head, trying to believe them while his body continued the repetitive movements.

Chop wood, carry water. Everything is repetition: meditating, eating, working, sleeping, and living. It’s all repetition! I just have to keep at it, as I always do!

Sabin knew there was nothing he couldn’t achieve; he could have anything he was willing to work for.

His mind resonated with Edgar’s words. ‘We have the means to strike back.’

That’s what big brother told me. What are we still waiting for?! Just point me in the right direction, and I’ll let them have it!

As if destiny had decided to indulge him, they were forced to escape to Narshe down Lete River. Fighting monsters along the way was the type of repetition Sabin could do with his eyes closed and with great satisfaction. His friends had nothing to worry about as long as he was there looking after them. That was his thinking when he moved Edgar aside and jumped the raft to fight Ultros.

Aha! Found the octopus! Attacking us for no reason! Scaring Terra just because he can?! I’ll teach him a lesson!

Oh!! He sees me! Then let’s get started. I can hold my breath for days…

The next thing Sabin knew was that those tentacles hit much, much harder in the water.

“WAAAAAAAHHHH!!!” Damn it, that was a good hit!

His body hit a hard surface, beating all air out of his lungs.

I’m in the water again?! I need air!!! Where’s the raft?! Brother, say something! I don’t know where you are!!

“Sabin, you’re on your own!” Edgar’s voice was barely audible.

Sabin swam to the surface. A desperate gasp for air prevented him from talking to his friends. He couldn’t see them. He looked around, trying to find them, only to realize that he didn’t recognize this part of the river; he hadn’t seen those rocks and trees before.

Where the hell am I? Oh no! Where are they?! Are they safe?!!

In his distraction, he was swallowed by the rapids and carried away. Against the worry that tugged at his heart, he now had to focus on keeping himself alive.

When he made it out of the river, his surroundings had radically changed. This part is very grassy and green, unlike the valleys near Figaro desert. Those trees and bushes are… different from the vegetation I know…

Brother, I’m so sorry. I got it all wrong…

Sabin closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

I’m almost there, brother; it’s just… It’s going to take me a bit longer, that’s all!

Edgar, Banon, and Terra stayed together and made it to Narshe. After catching up with Arvis, he went to arrange a meeting with the mayor; on her part, Terra decided to go to bed early, leaving Banon and Edgar sipping tea in silence.

“Whatever you’re thinking, I need you to drop it; it’s no good.” Banon told Edgar.

“I was thinking… the last time I went for a swim, we—I was fourteen years old.” Edgar said.

“Stop dwelling on it. If you had jumped after Sabin, you would have gotten in his way or gotten yourself drowned or hurt; you would have burdened him. I’ve seen how capable Duncan’s students are; he’ll be fine.”

“I’ve seen with my own eyes how capable he is. It doesn’t make it better, Banon.” Edgar shrugged.

“How about letting him be a grown man and deal with his own decisions?”

Edgar frowned at Banon, then looked down.

“At any given point, one of you will get hurt. Maybe even worse.” Banon said.

“I know.” Edgar massaged his temples.

“Everyone, yourself included, should prioritize the cause.”

Edgar frowned and shut his eyes. “I know.”

“All the young rebels who have died confirm to me that we are not in this to win. We have already lost.” Banon said.

Edgar directed his tired gaze at him.

Banon continued. “We’re not in this to win. We do what’s right and stand by the integrity of our choices. No more, no less.”

Edgar looked away.

“Staying with me and Terra was right. Coming here was right.” Banon assured him. “Don’t stay up all night.” He stood up, patted Edgar on the shoulder, and headed to the guestroom.

“I hate being right,” Edgar uttered to himself.

Chapter Text

In the throne room, there was a chair for each, so the twins sat side by side. They reminisced about the last time they were together in the castle, about the last time they saw their father alive, and, as Edgar noted, about one of the few times he ever thought about his mother. They toasted, and then silence took over again.

Edgar poured more wine for himself and drank it like it was water. Before he could offer a refill to Sabin, he sat back, seeming lost in thought, staring at the long hallway.

Edgar sat on the other chair and stared ahead.

This perspective was intimidating the first few times. One gets used to it, brother.

He looked at Sabin again.

You wore that same expression when you walked into our meeting with Narshe’s mayor.

Sabin toyed with his wooden beads, seeming to release tension gradually each time he passed a bead. The moment he closed his eyes, they were like a deep pond brimming with dangerous entities who were up to no good, then his eyes reopened, and Edgar was transported to the old days.

There you are, brother!

Edgar toyed with his golden beads. They were a sign of his commitment to the nation and to what it holds fundamental and sacred.

This nation has its god; t he nomads also have gods of their own. Sabin, I can tell the god you adore is yet a different one…

If I follow the rules of one god, will I still be serving the people who adore the other gods?

“Do you count beads too?” Sabin asked.

“No. The priests do.” Edgar replied quietly.

“What do they mean?”

Edgar held up the cross. “The pendant represents a martyr who stood up to an evil emperor and inspired others to do the same.”

“I like that.”

Edgar continued. “And the beads are mysteries, but when the priests count them, they offer a metaphorical bouquet of roses to the martyr’s mother.”

“I can see why you’d support that.” Sabin grinned.

“I’d rather offer roses to the ladies who currently walk this earth.” Edgar shrugged.

“Did you ever offer roses to Mom?” Sabin asked.

Edgar shut his eyes. “No.” He said quietly.

“Me neither.” Sabin admitted. “Let’s go visit her and Dad tomorrow, before shuttling the castle.”

Edgar nodded. He noticed Sabin’s glass, still full, in his hand. “You don’t drink, do you?”

“Only on special occasions.”

“There’s a tale of a special occasion when the martyr used magic to turn water into wine,” Edgar said.

“Special occasions have rules of their own, right?” Sabin reached to caress Edgar’s hand. “So we are not sinners.”

Edgar opened his palm to hold Sabin’s hand in his. He looked at Sabin and noticed the glass was now empty; Sabin’s smile and eyes were full of expectation.

“Let’s go finish that bottle together.” Sabin whispered.

They left the throne room and headed to Edgar’s bedroom. As soon as Edgar closed and secured the door, Sabin took the wine from his hand to pour another glass for Edgar and then drank the rest straight from the bottle.

“Impressive! I knew you were not a lightweight!” Edgar said, and drank his glass just as quickly.

Edgar gave him a soft smile. “I’m going to take this off.” He said, tugging at his cape.

Sabin stood back and watched him strip with his back turned towards him; no hurry, no pause. Entranced by the view, Sabin followed along and stripped as well.

Edgar got into a long nightshirt and turned around to find a completely naked Sabin, to which he raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“There’s another one I want to finish with you.” Sabin went through his bag, which he had left here earlier, and brought out a bottle.

“Oil?” Edgar smiled. “So you want us to pick up where we left off, that night in the tent?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”

Edgar took the bottle from Sabin’s hand, looking him in the eyes. “Go assume your position.”

Knowing the steps, Sabin faithfully retraced them, this time in real life instead of in his memory; laying on his back at the center of Edgar’s big bed, delighted to see Edgar doing as expected, coming forward to sit on his hips. This time Sabin could feel Edgar’s skin against his, and it accelerated his heartbeat faster than the last time.

Edgar rubbed a small amount of oil in his palms and proceeded to spread it on Sabin’s hair, softly massaging his scalp. This time Sabin kept his eyes open, eager but forcing himself to be patient.

He appreciated Edgar’s face getting flushed when staring into his eyes. Edgar got more oil and, just like before, strongly kneaded Sabin’s shoulders, and moved down his chest and then his torso. Sabin’s breaths were faster and shallower. Edgar took some extra oil and, without turning around, reached back to massage Sabin’s most neglected and longing area. Sabin bit his lip at the touch, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. Sabin reached for the oil and spread some on his hands, then went up Edgar’s inner thighs, below his nightshirt. But Edgar’s free hand quickly stopped him.

Edgar shook his head. “I took a chastity vow.” He said it in what looked like total seriousness.

Sabin sat up in disbelief. “What about all the women?!!”

Edgar shrugged. “I’m good with my tongue and with my hands, haven’t you heard?”

“Brother, I don’t think that’s how one remains chaste!”

“It is. I checked.” Edgar nodded.

Sabin chuckled. “Are we talking about you being good with diplomacy and machines?”

“No, but that’s a common misunderstanding. Can you believe that some perverts use their tongue to speak?”

“I know. It’s despicable!” Sabin grinned.

Sabin reached under Edgar’s shirt once more and once more got caught by Edgar’s hand.

“No, René.” Edgar said. “I’ll do this for you. I want to.”

“Why is it good for me but not for you?” Sabin caressed Edgar’s knees, careful not to go any further.

“You’re a better person than me.” Edgar smiled. “I’ll lose myself in desire… Will get ladies pregnant left, right, and center. Bastard children from our nation’s enemies will line up to claim their right to the throne and we will end up going to war over it. I will get the Jidorean disease, be covered in rashes, and lose my hair and my sanity. The kingdom will decay, collapse, and get erased from history. I will die and go to hell, where all the ladies have the Jidorean disease.”

Sabin blinked repeatedly. “You really thought this through.”

“Don’t credit me. The clerics are remarkably creative when it comes to tragedies, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes. But if you think about it, the key to prevent all these tragedies is to stay here with me.” Sabin bit his lips.

Edgar smiled to that, but then it faded. “They are right about me getting lost.”

Sabin looked at Edgar and held his hands, then laid a kiss on each. Edgar sighed and lowered his head.

“Hug me.” Sabin told him, bringing him into his embrace.

Edgar leaned into the hug and rested his head on Sabin’s shoulder.

“Let me do this for you.” Sabin whispered.

Sabin held Edgar tightly by the waist while his other hand reached below his nightshirt, this time on the backside. Edgar agitated slightly as Sabin’s oiled fingers caressed a most sensitive area, but he didn’t talk, nor did he try to stop it; he held tightly and simply allowed it.

Sabin’s fingers moved faster to better stimulate the area, causing Edgar to breathe through his mouth, then slowed down and pressed gently. His finger entered him, and Edgar gave into it, breathing a little louder, rocking his hips softly, almost shyly, and his arms held tighter around Sabin.

A subtle bend of Sabin’s finger made Edgar shudder, then his arms relaxed as his breathing got calmer. Sabin slowly pulled out and caressed around. He wanted to give him more, but his own appetite had become unbearable, and his hand was now caring for himself. He rested his head on Edgar’s shoulder and panted softly at every stroke. Edgar silently caressed Sabin’s back and head. After releasing a warm, wet spurt between Edgar’s legs, Sabin relaxed. They held each other, keeping quiet and immobile.

Moments later, Edgar pulled away and smiled. “Sorry, I left it all to you. I was feeling so good.”

Sabin was lost in his thoughts. I love you so much. All I want is to be here and love you forever!

Edgar tilted his head.

Confused, brother? Let me show you…

Sabin quickly removed Edgar’s nightshirt and laid him on his back. Edgar breathed faster.

Sabin stared intensely. You can read the love in my eyes, can’t you? You are as excited as I am. Just let me. Please don’t stop me!

Gently, Sabin spread Edgar’s legs and entered him with his finger.

“Aaah! t-there!” Edgar said, closing his eyes.

You are so sensitive to my touch. You love me as much as I love you; I know it!

Sabin continued his motions. His other hand caressed Edgar’s hairless chest and abdomen.

Does your depilated skin make you more sensitive? I hope so! Feel me, brother. Feel me all over you!

Edgar held Sabin’s hand and fixated it against his chest, while Sabin continued the movements inside him until a louder exhalation escaped him, and his body found release yet again.

Sabin’s eyes met Edgar’s. Brother, you look drowsy but sooo joyous. That’s how I want to see you!

“I could never get tired of this.” Sabin confessed.

Edgar smiled at him. Sabin smiled back and immediately brought his hands together and closed his eyes to concentrate his mystical energy. With the right intention and the proper flow of energy, Sabin broke the position to take his fingers back to circle around Edgar’s most private part.

Edgar chuckled. “Give it a break. I’ll still be here thirty minutes from now.”

Sabin smirked, keeping his eyes on Edgar’s as he went back inside. Edgar bit his lip. Sabin concentrated his energy on the tips of his fingers. With one hand, he repeated the previous movements that drove Edgar into ecstasy; with the other, he caressed Edgar’s lower belly; one hand inside, the other outside, both targeting the same sweet spot.

Edgar couldn’t contain himself. He moaned loudly at the stimulation, with a surprised look on his face.

Sabin’s smirk only grew.

Brother, are you surprised at how good I can make you feel? Of how your voice betrayed you when you tried so hard to be quiet? You’d be surprised at what your body can do…

Edgar’s entire body moved in accordance to Sabin’s hands. His chest and stomach filling with great mouthfuls of air at each move, and each time, his mouth released uncontrollable pleasure-filled sounds. Edgar’s moves were short, but his skin glistened with sweat. He dug his heels into the bed to make an abrupt move with his hips, led by nothing but instinct. His culmination was like fireworks: strong, explosive, and with multiple pours.

At last Sabin showed him some mercy and allowed him to rest. He watched with delight as Edgar’s breathing and his quivers slowly appeased, his body now splattered with his own fluids.

After a few minutes Edgar opened his weary eyes to direct them at Sabin. “You. Are. Very, very cruel.” Edgar smiled.

Sabin grinned, feeling a bit too proud of himself.

“I need to clean this up.” Edgar said.

“No, you don’t. Just rest for a moment.” Sabin said, caressing Edgar’s wet chest.

“It’ll drive me insane if I don’t…” He attempted to sit up, but as soon as he bent his stomach, he started moaning. He rested on his elbows and spread his legs, letting out deeper howls as his organ weakly discharged a couple more loads. Finally, he dropped on his back to catch his breath.

Sabin widened his eyes. “Fascinating!”

Edgar mumbled something unintelligible.

“I know, I know. I’ll clean up.” Sabin replied.

The next morning, Sabin stayed in bed, awake, watching Edgar sleep until he awoke.

Sabin smiled at Edgar’s waking eyes.

Edgar sat up and stared at him. “I think you obliterated my descendants. You’ll have to continue the bloodline; I’m dry!”

“You’re not. I’ll prove it to you next time.” Sabin assured him.

Edgar looked down at this necklace. “Last night was a special occasion; a unique circumstance.” He looked at Sabin and smiled. “Let’s go visit the crypts.” He got up and went straight to the bathroom.

‘A special occasion’, brother? And then you move on like it was nothing?…

A lonely tear rolled down Sabin’s cheek. He wiped it and then got up and went to his room to get ready.

Chapter Text

A big, irrepressible smile formed on Sabin’s lips when he saw Edgar, for the first time, in the new broken world.

I was expecting your regal look. Big brother, that three-day beard and that dirty hair must be driving you insane, haha! But it is you! I knew it! I knew you’d be out there getting things done. I feel like my heart is about to jump out of my chest! I barely changed in the past year; you’ll recognize me immediately!!

“Big brother!!” Sabin called as he strolled in his direction.

Edgar turned towards him. “What’s with you?”

The words stabbed through Sabin’s chest, making him freeze on the spot. It was Edgar’s voice, but it sounded so harsh and unfriendly, accompanied by a pair of outlandish brown eyes that frowned at him with obvious irritation.

B-big brother?

Why?

Sabin took his hand to his chest. His heart trembled; at the slightest move, it could fall to little irretrievable pieces. Even the old world’s agonizing convulsions had not affected him like this.

Celes dragged him to follow Edgar, regardless of what he told them.

“He said his name was Jeff…” Sabin mumbled.

Celes looked aggravated enough about Edgar’s attitude; she had very little patience lately and probably none left to entertain Sabin’s anxiety, but he had to insist.

“He said his name was Jeff!!”

He could never see the outline of Edgar’s plans, but he knew his big brother.

He grabbed Celes by the shoulders. “Go alone and call yourself ‘Guinevere.’ He’ll talk to you.”

Celes stared for a moment, then nodded. Fortunately, it worked and soon enough they were back in Figaro Castle; Edgar smiled at them, like he always did, and welcomed their help.

A massive weight had been lifted off Sabin’s battered heart.

The rest of the day Edgar got busy with the castle and its people, as expected. Late at night, Sabin went to Edgar’s bedroom, but he wasn’t there; he was working on the castle engine alongside the few other experts that remained, so Sabin headed to his own bedroom.

I get why, brother. This is why you took the crown and followed the beaten path. I get it.

I just… miss you.

Sabin undressed and lay naked on his bed. He caressed his chest, trying to reproduce the feeling of Edgar’s touch. His thighs made way while he conjured the image of the waking dream he had in Mount Kolts’ hot springs, of him and his brother sharing the same bliss inside Mother Nature’s womb. Desire flooded his mind as soon as it returned to that moment; his skin craved the warmth that only another body could offer…

I really miss you…

But Sabin’s heart was elsewhere.

I don’t want the illusion, I want the reality; I couldn’t do with any less.

He better save his energy. With his mind back to the here and now, being in his childhood bedroom provoked a different type of nostalgia.

I spent so much time within these four walls, I never thought I’d cherish coming back to this one spot.

He smiled. It was the same old bed, as large as Edgar’s, but it felt small.

It’s not suffocating. I don’t feel trapped. It’s just a small bed in a small room. No, they’re big, but I’m bigger now, hehe!

I can’t believe how far I’ve made it.

Sabin stretched his body to comfortably occupy the whole bed.

A soft knock was heard, and then the door opened. Almost as if Sabin’s desire had summoned him, Edgar walked in and closed the door behind him. He smiled at the sight of Sabin, the same smile he gets when a lady responds to his flirting.

“I saw the lights on,” Edgar said.

Sabin turned to the side, showing his full figure to Edgar while flexing his arm and leg. “Yes, I was about to… do some stretches.”

“Huh… That one part of you getting ahead.” Edgar tilted his head and pointed at Sabin’s groin.

Sabin chuckled at Edgar’s compliment.

Edgar looked away for a second, then focused on Sabin’s face. “I wanted to come see you much earlier.”

“You can see me at any time, brother.” Sabin said.

“The engine needs a thorough revision and reparations. It will take several days.” Edgar said sternly.

“I’m sorry! Let me cover up. Do you need help?” Sabin sat up and put the sheets around his body.

Edgar came forward and sat on the bed. “As I told you and Celes, this requires special training. Unfortunately I can’t have you helping out. And I have to prioritize this.”

“I know. I understand.”

“You always do, Sabin.”

Edgar gently removed the covers and placed his hand on Sabin’s thigh, moving up to his chest to softly push Sabin down. Sabin’s heart accelerated; his entire body tingled.

Edgar leaned in to hold Sabin’s face in his hands. “You told Celes about Guinevere. Why?” He said calmly.

Sabin’s eyes were glued to Edgar’s. “I only told her to use that name. Because you lied to us.” He replied in Edgar’s same tone.

“Fair enough,” Edgar said.

“Celes knew about your coin before the bet with Setzer. She’s very discreet.” Sabin said.

“Our coin.” Edgar corrected.

“Why?!” The word accidentally came out like a plea.

Edgar blinked. His eyes twitched and looked around, and kept blinking.

Big brother, what are you looking for?!

Edgar’s eyes returned to Sabin’s, and his thumbs wiped tears from the corners of Sabin’s eyes.

“She is very discreet.” Edgar answered.

Sabin’s eyes shut.

Edgar whispered sharply. “I had to tell somebody. She would not spread rumors, she would not start a revolt in the Figaro Council, and she would not get her feelings hurt. She only listened.”

Sabin opened his eyes to find that Edgar’s had closed. He rubbed Edgar’s cheeks and found no tears. Edgar’s deep blue eyes opened again.

“I understand,” Sabin said.

Edgar curved his lips into a quivering smile.

Big brother, don’t feel bad about it anymore; I really do understand!

Edgar leaned closer until locking his lips with Sabin’s in a soft kiss—superficial at first, then deep, slow, and thorough.

“You smell like rosewater.” Edgar uttered.

“I just took a ba—” Sabin got interrupted by another kiss.

Edgar broke the kiss and moved down to give the same treatment to Sabin’s nipples, his tongue on one side and his saliva-wet fingers on the other. Sabin breathed through his mouth, allowing his body to fully express its enjoyment, spreading his legs to ask for the treatment he craved most.

Edgar kissed his way down Sabin’s torso until reaching that hungry part of him that stood up demanding attention. Edgar kissed the tip and traced all the way down with his tongue, then his hand caressed its full length, up and down, keeping a steady pace and grip.

Sabin’s breaths were following along with the movements. Edgar looked at him and smirked, then pushed Sabin’s knees against his chest to make way to his most hidden area of pleasure. Sabin held his own knees in place, so Edgar’s hands spread Sabin further while his thumbs tenderly hovered over the hairs around his entrance.

Sabin let out deep exhalations while his earnest body responded with contractions in response to Edgar’s touch.

Edgar leaned in to lick and kiss, as thoroughly and passionately as he’d kissed Sabin’s mouth. Sabin gasped, surprised to feel the wet, velvety softness circling all around him and getting him wet. Sabin panted as he became fully swollen. As if reading Sabin’s mind, Edgar’s mouth kept at it, while one of his hands softly squeezed and caressed Sabin’s glands and the other hand maintained its grip through the rapid movements; up and down.

Sabin panted deeper until releasing his load with a howl.

Edgar sat up, then cuddled next to him, resting his arm on Sabin’s chest. Sabin took a few minutes to catch his breath and to savor this perfect little moment. It made him smile to know what he’d come back to once the war was over.

I could make love to you forever. Now it’s your turn—

“Sabin.”

“Mmmmhhhhm?”

“Does Celes remind you of Guinevere?” Edgar asked.

“Nnnnooo…” Brother, what now? “Wwwhy do you ask?”

Edgar sat up and smiled at Sabin. “Goodnight, brother.” Then he walked out, leaving Sabin with nothing but ache for company.

I’ll be missing you some more. Until the woman of your dreams manifests into reality… or until you find Setzer and get him to wear a rosy dress, whatever happens first …

Then I’ll lose you forever, won’t I, brother?

For several days and nights, Edgar continued working on the castle engine. The other engineers took turns, but Edgar was there with them at all times. Sabin could only observe from the sidelines.

In the mornings, Sabin would see Edgar coming out of his room as early as sunrise but didn’t see him going back to his room at night.

This morning, Sabin saw him and rushed to stand in front of him. The dark under Edgar’s eyes had gotten darker, and his face paler. At least his hair was blond again, but not as shiny.

Sabin put his hand on Edgar’s cheek. “Brother, you need to take it easy.”

“We rest when we’re done, not when we’re tired.” Edgar winked. “Right?”

Sabin looked away.

How do I get to you? I know no one can do what you do. I know that—

“Hey, what do you have here?” Edgar pointed at Sabin’s chest.

“I’m not going to look.”

“Mmm… What do you have here?” Edgar shifted to point to Sabin’s left side, below the ribs.

Sabin shook his head.

“And here?” Edgar pointed to Sabin’s stomach. “And here?” He pointed to Sabin’s right hip.

Sabin felt a bit of pain and finally looked down. Edgar had pointed at a wound he got from the sand-worms that invaded the castle. And before that, he had pointed at a burn he got while teaching himself the Fire Dance, and before that, a dog bite he had gotten during the Doma siege, and a scratch he got from Vargas’ bears.

I’m not one to talk, eh, brother?

“It’s not like this is dangerous.” Edgar held up his head and shoulders, gesturing with his hands like a bard singing praise to his muse. “My best lady demands my attention after enduring my absence for a whole grievous year. I’m ready and willing to downpour on her!” Edgar maintained his pose for a second and looked at Sabin, as if waiting for a favorable reaction to his performance. He broke the exaggerated posture, then patted Sabin on the shoulder and walked past him.

Sabin watched him leave; every step Edgar took weighed heavier on him. It usually filled him with pride to see Edgar being so well-adjusted and so dedicated to the many duties of his position. Today Sabin had fallen prey to his most selfish need: to have his love taken up.

I can’t love you fully. I can’t take care of you…

We can’t feed each other with the proverbial giant chopsticks, so we starve and share the same proverbial hell.

Don’t you recognize your own longing, brother?

Don’t you see that it will only ever be quenched with something real and profound?

Edgar continued walking the same old route he had walked the past few days, the same route he took on a regular basis before Kefka attacked Figaro for the first time. Retracing those steps had always been as seamless as breathing. Something about today made him feel sluggish.

Yes, he had been going to bed late and getting up early, but that wasn’t it.

Sabin is not entertaining your little performances. Why would he?

Whether he concedes or not, that’s all I can offer. Every peasant , every ambassador, every merchant, every single individual that comes my way, I can aid in some way. I do as much as I can.

The other night you couldn’t keep your hands off him. How does that ‘aid’ him?

Edgar stopped. Then he kept walking.

He needed comfort! I had to let him know that… He is welcomed and loved…

Words would have done just fine. Groping him and sticking your tongue in him…

Was… ungracious… maybe?

What is more ungracious? Your hunger, or the childish joy you take in aggravating the puritans?

Ugh! those old men in dresses who love to improvise self-righteous sermons…

Or how about your need to see yourself on higher ground than ‘those old men in dresses’ who are also your subjects?

Edgar stopped, looked down to the ground and took a deep breath.

… … … Those fragile, sickly old men who died from the harsh conditions they had to endure for a whole year. The few who survived joined Kefka’s cult… That’s where they found some reliability…

He resumed his walking.

Which is why I refuse to half-do anything! I need to be my best self, no less. My best self draws inspiration from my lady Guinevere, or she who could personify her virtue.

She would be looking to find ‘Jeff,’ not you.

… Right. I’ve been meaning to drop that pursuit…

Edgar stopped in his tracks. “I already dropped it.”

“Did you drop something, Majesty?” Chancellor Eldridge asked, coming his way.

Edgar smiled. “Yes, the idea of contact lenses. They were unbearably uncomfortable, entirely impractical!”

“Perfecting them could be a worthwhile pursuit if you commit to it, Majesty.”

“One day I’ll return to it. For now, I’ve got enough on my plate!” Edgar said and picked up the pace.

I am my best when I get some work done!

Or does working keep you from being your worst?

Yes, it does that too!

Chapter Text

Back to Figaro Castle, after the victory fanfares, the ‘hurrahs,’ and the repeating chants of ‘long live the King, long live the Returners,’ quietude set in as the night advanced. The world no longer feared a sudden strike of Kefka’s light of judgment. The war was over.

Edgar sat alone on his throne, with a bottle of wine in one hand and, in the other, a glass that remained full. His eyes were not focusing on anything in particular but were still lucid.

At the end of the hallway, leaning against a pillar with his arms folded, stood Sabin. He only observed.

During the celebrations, Edgar had been as cheerful as the next person, talkative and engaging enough to do justice to his reputation, and as busy and distant from Sabin as was usual whenever they found themselves together in the castle.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Sabin dared to ask.

Edgar smiled at him, seemingly caught off guard. “Please! I was about to head to the tower, where I thought I’d find you. But you found me first!” Edgar emptied the glass in one gulp.

Sabin sat on the chair next to Edgar. “Pour some for me in that same glass.”

Edgar handed him the glass and the bottle. “I can’t have another drop. It’s all yours.”

Sabin looked at the items, then at his brother. Edgar closed his eyes and rested his head on his palm.

“How much did you drink?” Sabin asked.

“That one, and the one for the victory toast with the royal officers. I just don’t feel like drinking.”

Sabin poured himself a glass and gulped it at once. “I drank just as much.”

Edgar didn’t react.

“So you wanted to see me, brother?” Sabin asked.

Edgar turned to him and smiled, like he had just been reminded of something. “Yes!”

Sabin waited. There was only silence, so he put aside the glass and bottle, then leaned forward to give Edgar his undivided attention. “Tell me.”

Edgar shrugged. “I just wanted your company.”

Sabin smiled. “You’ll always have my company.”

“Do you have plans? For when the world settles down and reestablishes its course?”

“Ummm… My plan was to stay here… helping you.” Sabin said.

Edgar flashed his brightest and warmest smile. “It makes me so happy to hear that!”

Sabin’s smile was as shy as his words. “Do you have plans?”

“Oh yes! I have to go over them with Eldridge, but there is a lot of work to do! Figaro fares well in comparison, but it will only flourish after we properly reestablish trade. We will have to assist our sister nations with that and much more.”

“Brother, I meant, do you have plans for yourself?”

Edgar looked away and blinked repeatedly. “I just told you.”

“You were flirting with Celes on the airship and—”

“And you spoke your mind about it; I heard you loud and clear! But you misunderstand me.” Edgar waggled his index finger. “I was not being a player; I was as serious as a man can be!”

“Edgar, everyone knows that she has a thing for Locke. Even if she didn’t, hasn’t she made it clear that she’s not interested in you?” Sabin frowned.

Edgar grinned. “No and no. Everyone, myself included, suspected about her and Locke. She never admitted it, and she never plainly rejected me until I made my move. Only now is it that we really know!”

Sabin shook his head.

Edgar gasped and smiled. “Brother, we should walk them down the aisle! I’ll be his best man, and you’ll give her away at the altar!”

Sabin took a deep breath, intending to clear his mind and his facial expression. “Yes, we should.”

“Oh my! Imagine Locke in a suit and a bandanna… We’ll witness the assassination of good taste.” Edgar giggled.

“Brother, I need you to stop talking.” Sabin said.

Edgar immediately went quiet and looked away, like a pet that gets scolded.

Sabin took another deep breath. You said you wanted my company, what do you really mean?

“Can we go to your bedroom?” Sabin asked.

Edgar nodded and smiled. “Of course.”

In the bedroom, they sat together on the sofa.

Sabin held Edgar’s chin to command his attention. They gazed at each other quietly, until Sabin spoke. “I cherish every minute we get to spend together.” Sabin said, staring into his eyes.

Edgar smiled. “Me too.”

“I want to stay here, by your side, always. But I feel like there will always be some kind of obstacle for me to love you.”

Edgar shook his head. “Nothing impedes love. Whether we are close or distant, love prevails, as it has until this day… Right?”

“I love you: your heart, your mind, and your body. I love all of you, big brother; but it’s one-sided, isn’t it?”

Edgar broke eye contact, his eyes frantically exploring nothingness.

What do your eyes look for? Whatever it is, you won’t find it outside of you, brother…

Sabin continued. “If we are not on the same page, if you offer your love to someone else, I will cheer for the two of you, no hard feelings.”

Without looking at him, Edgar replied. “I love all of you. But I married the nation of Figaro and vowed to serve her before anything else.”

“So you will… Find yourself a queen? … Conceive an heir?”

Edgar kept searching in the nothingness. “I don’t know… When I hear ‘queen,’ I can only think of our mother… It didn’t turn out well for her, did it? Why would I want that?! I don’t want that!” Edgar frowned.

“Isn’t that what the nation demands of you, brother?”

Edgar shook his head. “All the ladies of the world should be treasured—I mean… the expectations are there, but I try not to follow traditions blindly.”

“Brother, what is the obstacle between you and me?” Sabin asked calmly.

Edgar took a deep breath. “I only disregard traditions after making sure they no longer serve a purpose.”

“What is the purpose of breaking your own heart?” Sabin’s pained voice betrayed the composure he had maintained thus far.

“To avoid becoming corrupt. Power changes people.”

Sabin held Edgar gently against his chest. “It made you more responsible, more resourceful, more selfless… It made you more of who you already were.” Sabin looked down at Edgar’s face, turned red as a tomato, which made him smile. “I love you so much!”

Edgar backed away, having mildly recovered from the flattery. “I vowed not to… do things purely for pleasure.”

“Why are we allowed the pleasures of friendship, victory, and innovation but not the pleasure of our bodies burning together?” Sabin whispered and caressed Edgar’s face. “You will not get lost, brother. You’re not that kind of person.”

Edgar swallowed. “I’m a man of my word. If I don’t live by it, then how can I expect my subjects to rely on me?”

“The laws of nature come before the laws of men. Always!” Sabin grabbed Edgar by the shoulders.

“Is this nature’s doing, Sabin?” Edgar raised an eyebrow.

“Yes! We were together in our mother’s womb before we were told what was expected of us!” He closed his eyes and dropped his head. “Together like that, I know I would never stop making love to you. I know it!!”

“I never thought of that.” Edgar softly cupped Sabin’s face and raised it so their eyes would meet. “God had us making love countless times before we were born, way before I spoke any vows. And before we shared our mother’s womb, I’m sure we were stardust making love endlessly on the firmament!”

Sabin rushed into a hot, wet kiss, violently trying to taste every corner of his brother’s mouth. Edgar reciprocated his eagerness. Their tongues intertwined, desperately yearning to quench their tortuous thirst for each other.

Edgar broke apart. “Sabin!”

Sabin stopped himself abruptly.

Edgar was blushing and misty-eyed. “I would never be able to stop myself. I would never let you be free.”

“Works for me. I don’t want you for one night; I want you forever!”

Edgar remained immobile for a few seconds, his eyes dark and focused on the figure sitting in front of him. “You have me forever. I have you forever.” He softly touched Sabin’s pounding chest.

Edgar stood up, smiled at Sabin, and calmly removed pieces of his outfit, one after the other, returning his eyes to Sabin’s each time a piece dropped to the floor. Sabin followed along, calmly removing his outfit, until standing naked, face to face.

“May I?” Sabin placed his fingers on Edgar’s necklace.

Edgar nodded.

Edgar moved his long hair out of the way as Sabin slowly removed the golden rosary. He gently placed it on the desk; next to it, Sabin put his wooden beads. He laid his hand on the two necklaces and took a deep breath.

“Falseness… Hffffff… Is now gone from our mental, emotional, and physical bodies.” Sabin said to himself, feeling lighter than ever, in spite of his intense arousal.

He turned towards Edgar to find that he had picked up their clothes from the floor, folded them, and placed them on the sofa. Sabin couldn’t hold back a snort.

“What? We don’t have to lose our decency.” Edgar said it like he meant it.

Sabin smirked and looked at Edgar in the eyes, slowly walking to him until getting close enough for them to sense the radiating heat coming off each other’s body.

With a swift move, Sabin leaned over and grabbed Edgar to carry him in his arms. Edgar’s eyes widened, and he let out a sudden gasp.

“I would never hurt you. Let yourself go.” Sabin assured him.

Edgar smiled. “Oh, what I’m feeling is not fear.”

Sabin looked down; Edgar’s swelling confirmed it was not fear.

He laid Edgar on the bed, caressed his face, and looked for any sign of remorse or discomfort. Edgar gazed at him and smirked, grabbed Sabin’s hand and kissed it, then softly bit and licked his middle finger.

Sabin reached for the oil that still sat on the nightstand, where they left it the last time, and got his fingers wet. He caressed Edgar’s parts to oil him well and then entered him. Slowly and gently, he moved in and out.

“I want more than your fingers.” Edgar tucked his knees and spread himself open for Sabin. One more of Sabin’s fingers went inside, making Edgar’s pants more audible.

“Breathe with me.” Sabin instructed as he caressed Edgar’s chest.

Edgar matched Sabin’s breathing, and Sabin slid another finger inside. In and out, Sabin continued at a slow, steady pace, and Edgar breathed along. Then Sabin pulled out. He shifted his attention and his hand to his own dripping organ; Sabin noticed Edgar biting his lip and his parts twitching at the sight. Sabin pushed in, as slowly as his discipline allowed, and started panting as his hips moved with a will of their own. Every time he moved, Edgar moaned.

The sounds, the sight, and the squeeze of Edgar’s insides on him were inebriating. No liquor would ever have such an effect. Sabin lost himself in the deep breaths that fueled his movements, and then he shut his eyes, and he experienced relief that was more profound than what he had felt in the hot spring. It was no cascade but his own sweat that ran down his body, and there was no spring, other than the fluid remnants of love he left inside his brother. He pulled out and sat back to catch his breath.

Edgar breathed heavily. He did not touch himself, and his eyes told Sabin that he was yet to find that sweet release for himself.

Edgar sat up and softly licked Sabin’s lips. They opened for him so his tongue could caress Sabin’s so they could taste each other’s lustful breaths. He oiled up his fingers and ran them shallowly through Sabin’s body, almost tickling, following the path of blond hairs that led to his not-yet-recovered organ. He spread Sabin’s legs and tenderly caressed the hairs around his entrance. Sabin tucked his knees to let his brother claim the delights he had just experienced. As if trying to pick up where he left off the last time, Edgar licked and kissed. Sabin uttered little quiet moans as he became fully swollen once more.

Edgar gave him a quick look, as if trying to confirm his readiness. The ravenous look on Edgar’s face contrasted his smooth foreplay. Sabin winked, then Edgar gently eased his fingers inside Sabin’s welcoming body. Edgar pulled his fingers out and then went all in, howling as the rest of him surely rejoiced wrapped in Sabin’s warmth after yearning for it for so long.

Sabin moaned softly at first. His pleasure-filled voice seemed to invigorate Edgar, as he was now going harder.

“Yes! Hard!” Sabin begged him while grabbing onto his own pectorals.

Edgar obeyed; his movements becoming rougher and longer, and his mind getting lost in the alluring sounds, the hot and sweaty action, and the delicious aromas of intimacy. Edgar’s voice got louder. He caressed Sabin to make him burst out at the same time as he released his impassioned stream inside, finding relief like he hadn’t known before.

Edgar pulled out. They looked at each other and smiled. Sabin sat up, shivering as he felt the warm fluid coming out of his relaxed body. He got close to give Edgar a slow and deep kiss on his mouth.

Sabin gently pushed him down to lie on his back. His hands glided all over Edgar’s hairless body, on every part that saw the light he planted tender kisses, getting a good taste of his sweaty skin, then returning to his mouth to keep tasting the tender love that exuded from him, their lips locked in the deepest intimacy while their bodies were mirrored, their lower parts as hot and wet as their tongues dancing with one another.

Big brother, ‘heaven’ is having you here, fully surrendered to the love I have to give. I put myself through all trials and tribulations just to make sure that you thrive. I would restrain my own ecstasy forever so I could remain in this state, pleasuring you forever. I love you, Roni!

Sabin kissed Edgar’s lips and caressed his his entrance with his fingers, then raised Edgar’s leg to make way and enter him once more. Slowly, Edgar swallowed him whole, and his hips began to rock softly and easily.

Edgar’s eyes could not look away from Sabin’s.

Little brother, I could drown in those deep oceans. All the hard choices I’ve made and all the satisfactions I denied myself have brought me to this moment. I would deny myself of everything just so I could secure this peace and prosperity for you to live with freedom and dignity…

Sabin’s movements were accompanied by his increasingly louder grunts. Edgar couldn’t contain his own voice from cracking into overwhelmed moans as he felt the deep caresses Sabin gave him from within, deeper than fingers could reach, and more profound than anything life had offered him before. Edgar pleasantly laid bare, disarmed, and defenseless, allowing Sabin to fill his entire being.

Denial rewarded us with the greatest of Heaven’s treasures: to love and be loved. I love you, René!

THE END.