It was the best sleep he’d had in years.

Which might come as a shock to you, considering he was spending this night in a dry and old cell with a raised cot instead of a proper bed. But Clive didn’t care. He hadn’t slept since the morning he had left the Hideaway to take on Ultima for the last time. Something that they had all correctly guessed would be a suicide mission — considering everyone involved had seemingly died. He’d lost so much in such a short period of time, and then in the end, was painfully subjected to the very Curse that being this “Mythos” had kept him from for so long.

Awoke in a faraway land, alive but strangely weakened, isolated and alone. Thought they had failed. Sought to make it right. Only to find out that it was in fact a different world, and he had caused harm to innocent people without meaning to. And almost destabilized an entire nation that did not, in fact, have a mothercrystal that was causing everyone misery and threatening their very world. Now he was in a jail cell of his own volition.

Their best, apparently. Hremit had given some leniency but the Council was less forgiving. Not that Clive blamed them -- while the honorary "King" had overheard some of his story and seemed to have a kindrance with offworlders, to the others on Torensten's ruling council he was just some maniac who waltzed in, assaulted their people and tried to destroy their very way of life. Though wouldn't Hremit be more of a duke, with how things were arranged? Torensten appeared to be akin to a duchy, but their ruler was a king. Maybe he just didn't understand Torensten's history and politics enough, but finding out wasn't really on his priority list at the moment. Those things were more for Viv, Tomes or Joshua to enjoy.

Either way, by "their best", I mean Clive had been placed in a solitary cell, away from any other prisoners. Clive had noted as well, that either he was extremely tired or it was made of a material that he didn’t recognize. Perhaps out of tired, morbid curiosity as he wittled away the time between sleep periods, he had decided to fire a bit of magic at the wall. But it fizzled out on contact like nothing. What the hell had Torensten been threatened by in the past to make these kinds of cells necessary? Lady Chere had mentioned something of the kind, but he hadn't cared enough at the time to give it much thought.

He had heard the jeering of the other prisoners as he was hauled past them too. A monster, they called him. Sure, they had robbed, assaulted, murdered, all the fun stuff. But trying to take out the crystal? Destroying thousands of years of heritage and making things harder for thousands of people? Compared to him, apparently most of the prison had standards. Not all of them though. Some laughed and mocked him for not finishing the job. But the general consensus seemed to be that he was some kind of maniac, an animal that should be put down.

Speaking of animals, he could almost swear he’d heard one bashing into the bars of a cage, scratching and clawing for about an hour somewhere deeper into the prison before eventually fading into whines and cries that too eventually died out. Clive couldn’t help but feel for the creature, whatever it was. It sounded upset, and not even in a vicious beast kind of way. Had that maybe been the monster from earlier? Why had they captured it? And why did it sound almost familiar? An impulsive thought told him to find a way out of here to find out, and save the creature. But what little common sense was left in his tired brain bade him to not do that.

In the end, Clive found himself falling sound asleep. To be frank, he was exhausted. The conditions and cot didn’t matter to him. He had slept in far worse conditions many times. The dangerous prisoners, who if they got out would probably kill him? Nothing new. People went mad all the time in the hole that the Imperials had thrown their Bearer slave soldiers into between assignments. Many of them tried to kill their “comrades” in turn. This was nothing. At this point, a prison cell felt like a warm hug. Almost.

And he was just so tired. He had used all his power and energy against Ultima, then in using Ultima’s power. Then got a second wind and went for this crystal, only to get in a fight with a possible Dominant of Ice…

He had put up a brave face, but by the time he reached his cell, Clive had nothing left. He had woken up a few times throughout the night, usually preceded by horrible nightmares of that disastrous encounter with Ultima. Or dreams that Ultima was coming to this very cell, still alive, intending once more to meld with him where Joshua was no longer there to save him. But eventually he fell asleep nonetheless, though not without oodles of anxiety and trying to find ways to pass the time until he slept again. Exhaustion however, trumpt all in the end. Brave face or not, it had taken everything he had to keep Lady Chere at bay. She’d scored a serious hit too, and Clive had already been incredibly worn down by the fight with Ultima.

If she’d hit him with that attack again, he’d probably be down here in a box instead of in a cell. Kind of like Benesomething, whom Kupka had been yammering something pertaining to her head and a box. Clive hadn’t really been listening.

Eventually, he found an empty slumber, devoid of pain, as not even his mind could function well enough to conjure the nightmares that haunted him. His final nightmare was the words Lady Charon had spoken to him, only a few months before. Even if those few months now felt like a lifetime, he could never forget.

"I remember it like it were yesterday. We were all waiting to treat Cid to a hero's welcome... When Kupka's lot turned up. Not that we knew it was them. They just poured in like a plague of rats, cutting down anyone and anything that stood in their way... Blood and bodies everywhere, there was... And a voice crying out for Cid to save us in the midst of it all... I'll never forget those cries... Try as I might..."

"You're our leader now, Clive."

"Promise me you won't let anything like that happen again. Promise me that come what may... Cid will save us."

A promise made, one that even though he had been miraculously saved from the Curse one last time... He could no longer fulfill. To live without his mission, without the people he loved and cherished, without being able to fulfill the promises he'd made until his dying day...

He would rather have died to the Curse than this.

But fatigue took him eventually. And Clive would still be asleep by the time Lady Chere arrived, with a familiar face in tow. The first voice -near- him in what felt like an eternity of horrible solitude jolted him awake instantly. Horribly and violently, as the swordsman's eyes shot wide open, bloodshot and frenzied as he swung a kick at the bars with a panicked cry. As much as one jokes it was "the best sleep he'd had in years", however, the black and blue sag under his eyes indicated he'd actually hardly slept much at all, despite his concerning levels of exhaustion.

Ultima had come again. Each nightmare had seemed more lucid and real than the last until Clive could never be sure anymore if Ultima had truly come for him or not. But after a few tense moments, he realized there was no Ultima. Just Lady Chere, whom had said something about...

Right. The memories of the past day began to flood back to him. Clive slid down to sit against the cot, heaving a long sigh as he looked up at the woman whom he probably had not helped his case with either.

"... Apologies. Rough night."

No apology was going to be enough for what he had caused this woman and others, so even to Clive it felt hollow as it left his lips. But it was the best he could manage at the moment.

Hold on...

As his brain started to regain function, she'd said something about a friend? He hadn't believed her at the time, figured it was just something said to try and ensure his cooperation. Looney bin crystal-smasher and all that, of course she would. But she'd actually brought someone? His gaze moved from her to...

"Mid?"

There was no mistaking it, he'd seen that face in his nightmares almost as much as Ultima. His lighter nightmares when not tormenting him with Ultima's presence, were plagued by "Cloive, fetch me sumthin that'll probably leave ya half dead carryin' back so I can make ah fancy pantcy set 'ah cutlery!" so he knew Mid Telemon, daughter of Cid, when he saw her.

But how was she here? Sure, Celes had mentioned that she had been brought from her world as well, but Clive had never thought to ask her HOW she got here. He had apparently been spirited here when the Eikons had saved him, but... Mid?

"How did you get here? How long have you been here?"

Maybe it was strange that Clive seemed so laid back about being locked into a cell and placed under house arrest. The truth was, this wouldn’t be Clive’s first cell. But it would be the easiest cell he had ever been in.

Imperial cells. Imperial slavery. The Hideaway’s cell after he realized he’d (apparently) killed Joshua and was being restrained to not take his own life or someone else’s. Compared to those, a holding cell for a night after his mission was complete, and monitoring after the fact, felt like absolutely nothing. It was practically a free room and bed compared to what he had gone through in the past.

Feeling like he was walking on air had ought to do with it as well. Clive had died killing Ultima, ending Origin, and completing their long-held mission. He had accepted that death already. This? This was a bonus. A bonus he didn’t even want. Not when those he loved and cherished weren’t here to join him.

He’d almost rather be dead than be apart from Joshua, Torgal and Jill again. This was somewhere between an unwanted blessing and a curse. He almost didn’t care if they killed him. While his principles cried out that this was a bad idea… Well, he wasn’t exactly himself right now.

“As much as recruiting the group as a whole would be a great boon for Torensten, I know the Dragonblades are and always will be independent, as is their creed. I actually meant you specifically, Miss Chere” Hremit meanwhile, responded calmly to her statement. “Threats such as the dragons, the Kraken, and now today. Have made it clear we need strong leaders in our military, who can respond quickly to threats and help our men be better able to defend themselves and their home. Leaders such as yourself and Mr. Dragelion. You lead well, and you inspire confidence wherever you walk.”

Of course, it wasn’t exactly public knowledge that Celes was some kind of once-evil general back home. All people knew most of the time was that she and Caius had started and established a very successful group of very powerful people. Whom were always there in a crisis. So odds were that Hremit had no idea what kind of memories he might be stoking here.

Clive didn’t exactly know what was going on, but he could almost swear he could hear Celes’ blood pressure rising. And then heard the door slam open because apparently trying to evacuate the palace had run into a snag in the form of a monster at the gates. Celes deigned to handle it, but…

“I would like to provide aid, if possible, Lady Chere. I owe this city for what’s happened, after all” Clive brought up. They’d been calling her Miss Chere, she sounded important, and Charon was an important businesswoman that went by Lady Charon, so… Lady Chere? That seemed to make sense in Clive’s walnut brain. “I have no intention of running. I agreed to this, after all.”

“As he is to be placed in your custody, I leave it up to you, Miss Chere” chimed in Hremit. Soon enough, another soldier arrived as Celes began headed up. Fortunately, Clive had only struck as necessary through most of their ranks. He had been driven, but not cruel. The only ones who got a little more battered were the poor few near the entrance to the chamber that had made Clive think they were sending Bearers to die. Luckily; they’d survive. Celes had talked Clive down before his anger could overwhelm him completely and cause casualties. Another disaster averted by the Icy General.

“Your Majesty, the creature has been successfully quarantined off into a section of the palace, to give us room to finish the evac and tend to the wounded. For some reason it seems very intent on getting into the crystal chamber, but we should be able to close in and incapacitate it if we act quickly.

As Celes (and maybe Clive if allowed) would arrive, she would find that the troops had indeed managed to sequester the creature in a room. It bore the shape of a large canine, but it was so covered in dirt and trash that it was hard to tell for sure besides that it was growling very fiercely. It was held back by the point of several lances, but it was growing more ferocious by the moment and was in the middle of snapping at them when she arrived.

These men though, seemed to recognize it was best to let Celes handle it when they saw her. But as soon as they began to slowly make room for her…

Cries echoed through the room as the big, angry dog began to launch ice magic.

Zephon, she had called it. Not another land, but another world. And apparently there were hundreds, possibly thousands of others.

It would seem unbelievable if it didn’t line up. He had accessed Ultima’s power. And all the consequences that came of it. He had thought it meant his death, but… What if the last of it had saved him from the Curse and sent him here, combined with the remaining power of the Eikons that he’d absorbed? They were all gone now, save the Phoenix’ blessing and Ifrit. And even Ifrit, he could no longer feel. Only what remained. Had they sacrificed that connection to spare him and bring him here?

This woman had no idea what he’d been talking about and neither had anyone else. This Torensten wasn’t on a single map he could recall, and was far too large for such a glaring omission. The Bearers here, they weren’t branded. They were…

Free?

She ran a mercenary band. A bearer. That ran a respected band who was on call by the King himself for assignments. And the mages he’d seen weren’t slaves, they had jobs. Damn good ones too. No brand, no forced servitude, just…

It was everything he had ever wanted, but…

It just sounded too good to be true.

The rest was heard, but wasn’t the focus at the moment. He’d parse that information later, as his gaze focused solely on the crystal.

Clive sheathed his blade as he slowly advanced towards Celes and the crystal. However, he placed a hand firmly on Celes’ shoulder.

“I will not destroy the crystal just yet. Of this, you have my word,”

If allowed, he would place a hand on the crystal. He had absorbed Ultima’s power once. While he no longer had it, he remembered what it felt like…

And yet…

Even as he closed his eyes, even as he pressed his head into the crystal, trying to find something, anything. Not a trace of Ultima could be found. And stranger yet…

“What…?”

This crystal was indeed absorbing aether as the mothercrystals did. But the amount… It wasn’t absorbing nor was it emitting anywhere near what the mothercrystals had been doing. Nowhere near enough to either turn those around it akashic, nor…

Nothing like this existed in Valisthea. The mothercrystals had been of Ultima’s design, to take far more aether than humanity could ever use on its own, spreading the blight from the lacking aether of the realm. All while Ultima absorbed the excess for his own designs. This crystal wasn’t like that. It was everything that had led humanity to rely on magic, which was still dangerous, but…

She was telling the truth.

This wasn’t his world. It was very possible that everything he had ever known in his life so far, no longer existed here. It also meant…

If he truly had been sent to this world, perhaps by what he had done with Ultima’s magic… Then they had succeeded.

Which meant he truly had stormed in here, and put these people at risk who may very well have done no harm, and who didn’t deserve to have their crystal destroyed. He didn’t know enough yet to say. But he did know that the blight was no longer a threat. Ultima was no longer a threat. For now, at least. He had inconvenienced them for nothing.

… It also meant he could never get back to Jill and Torgal, or even Joshua if he was still alive.

“Shit” he found himself muttering as he pulled away from the crystal. What did he do now? He didn’t know. And as happy as he was to find a world like the one he had dreamed of, and that they had successfully stopped Ultima, all he felt was…

Empty. Devoid of purpose. He had been content to die doing what needed to be done. Now he was alive, but couldn’t even live in the world he had sought for. This world was nice, but…

He didn’t belong here. If those he loved weren’t here, this wasn’t where he belonged.

“Go. Heal them. I surrender.”

With a slight hesitation, Clive gently and respectfully laid down both his and his father’s sword. “If I need be tried and executed for what I have done here, so be it. Have your justice. If Ultima is gone, I do not belong here.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

A group of soldiers filed in, some moving to escort the wounded while others remained as King Hremit entered the chamber.

“I overheard some of what’s been said. It appears your intentions were righteous… Albeit with damaging results. But I have no reason to do you harm. You are free to go, so long as you do not continue to cause trouble. Though if you wish to pay back the damage you’ve caused, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. With payment for anything beyond what you owe, of course. You’re a swordsman, and Torensten, as Miss Chere has mentioned, is abundant with monsters. I’m sure that a man of your talents will have no trouble paying it back, if you so choose.”

While he was a laid back leader with a froggish complexion, Celes had been right about one thing. The lad was strong. It would be foolish not to take the opportunity presented.

Clive stared at the king, eyes struck with bewilderment. What was he playing at? At the least, Hremit seemed to sense that distrust.

“Torensten has been protected by outlanders like yourself for many years now. The least we can do is try to help those that are struggling when they arrive.”

With that, he looked to Celes.

“Miss Chere. You have my sincerest thanks for protecting the Crystal. The Dragonblades continue to be the shining star of our city with people like you at its head. I will ensure that you and the Dragonblades are thoroughly compensated for your aid.”

Had he heard Celes screaming about not being paid enough? Oops.

With that, he returned to the “maniac”.

“What is your name, lad?”

Clive was… Well, honestly he didn’t understand what was going on. There had to be something underlying here, right? Of course there was. The man had made it clear he wanted to make use of Clive’s power, as any ruler would want to. But his reasons… They were simply out of gratitude for people like her? Miss Chere, he’d called her. A Bearer. A heroic Bearer who commanded the respect of the King to the point he would spare and, in a sense, offer aid to a Bearer in getting back onto his feet when all others would have executed him for what he had done.

It felt so alien. So hard to believe.

This really was another world, wasn’t it?

Taking a deep breath as he picked up his swords once more, he considered what to say. Normally, he would go by Cid, but…

Their mission was over. It was time to let Cid and his legacy rest.

“… Clive. From a world called Valisthea.”

He took a deep breath, knowing he was taking a risk here. But he’d taken risks for most of his life.

“I suppose I owe an explanation. My world was plagued by a Blight that turned the land barren and uninhabitable wherever it touched. Caused by Mothercrystals, sources of magic that all our nations relied on in their daily lives, as it drained the aether from our world. But worse than the Blight, was the people. They saw magic and those who used them as tools. People with magic were called Bearers, and at discovery of their magic were branded.”

Clive motioned towards the scar on his face to give them an idea.

“Laced with wyvern poison, making it almost impossible to remove without painfully killing them. Bearers were slaves. Tools to be used. Treated like garbage, and just as disposable. All while nations fought entire wars over control of the mothercrystals, and conscripted Bearer slaves to fight and die on the front lines. Bearers were looked down on even beyond that, some hunted them for fun, burned them, hanged them, strung them up. My own mother had an entire village slaughtered for trying to harbor Bearers, and strung them up to make a statement.”

Clive didn’t talk at length much, but… They did deserve to know why he had shown up to crack the crystal.

“Cid had a dream. Freeing bearers from their chains, letting them live and die on their own terms. And… To destroy the mothercrystals and end this seemingly endless war over them. And all the atrocities that come with it. We later found out they were created by Ultima, our world’s… God, you could call it. They were made to take aether, more than any man could use, and with what was collected fuel one of Ultima’s clones to return and cast a spell. One that would rob all of humanity of their free will.”

He cocked his head towards the Crystal. “When I was sent here, we had just stopped Ultima. I was convinced that this crystal had one more of his clones, and destroying it would put an end to our struggle for good. But I was wrong. And for that, you have my apologies.”

He knew that didn’t mean much. He had nearly killed half a dozen men. But they at least deserved to know why.

She claimed to not know what he was talking about. Of course not. Why would she? Nobody thought about the plight of the bearers. They used them as slaves without a second thought. Used the aether from the mothercrystals without a second thought. Relied on them, and misused Bearers until they were quite literally nothing but dust. They didn’t care. They never cared. To everyone, from civilians to soldiers to the higher ups, bearers were less than human. Bearers and magic were just tools. And for the higher ups? Tools to be used to trample on everyone else as they made war while sitting comfortably as they looked down on everyone else.

It was a world he had lived with, naively been a part of without doing anything for so long. But no more. Taking out the mother crystals would end the blight and end their reliance on magic with it. No more would bearers be tools for war, slaves to fulfill functions that could no longer feasibly be done even with them. It would take time, and many would suffer until then, but…

Ending the blight would give them a chance they wouldn’t get otherwise. And somebody had to do it.

Clive had found his opportunity, but while he did a little bit of damage, the rest had been absorbed by his opponent. And if this crystal was anything like other crystals, it would heal from the damage before long. Which meant if she could absorb magic…

She who could…

“You’re a Bearer.”

Clive was stunned into inaction. “So that’s why you sent them away. You’re as much of a slave as they are-“

“Blizzaga!”

This part of the chamber was too small, and Clive couldn’t dodge with that little warning. He was hit dead on and sent flying back. As he hit the wall he watched his limbs freezing over until he was completely encased in ice.

Like turning to stone. Watching yourself be rendered immobile, painfully piece by piece. A morbidly familiar feeling. One he had never wanted to experience again, and yet…

——

Elsewhere in Torensten, a garbage can was knocked over amidst the crowds fleeing the palace. And for one creature; this was an opportunity. Once, they had already tried to grab the scraps of chicken hanging from the container, but they had been shooed away by the homeowners. Now, as they were distracted by some kind of commotion, a very large canine, covered in dirt to the point one could hardly even recognize what they were, slank from the shadows.

Within moments, the famished canine had finally devoured what it had sought all day. All that time looking for an opportunity, in order to eat just to survive. It wasn’t anywhere near enough to fill them, but it would keep them alive another day.

Up above, an explosion of ice came through one of the windows of the palace, engulfing the exterior near to the window where the massive icy blast had finally stopped after engulfing its target. While the dog’s attention was caught by it momentarily, a familiar feeling kept them from just outright dismissing it… One that elicited a bark as they began to make a mad dash for the palace.

——

Celes didn’t get to celebrate for long, fire began to rage violently within the ice, before the room was engulfed in flames. The ice shattered, and Clive stepped out looking less like a man, and more one crossed with a monster wreathed in flames.

Truthfully, he had attempted to prime, but it was as if Ifrit wasn’t there. The connection was there in some way, but… Also not. As if what he had was merely a memento of what once was. Was this how it had felt for so many others when he had taken their power?

For now, however, being able to semi prime would do. What was clear was that this was an extremely powerful bearer… Perhaps even a dominant. It was clear there were more than just the ones told, and Leviathan may very well still be out there. This woman, however… Was it possible that she was a second Dominant Of Ice?

It wasn’t impossible. Ifrit’s very existence proved that.

“I have no quarrel with other Bearers. But I need to destroy that Mothercrystal” Clive spoke out, still trying to catch his breath as the ice melted away under the overwhelming heat of the flames. “This is a long shot and I don’t expect you to believe a thing. But the Mothercrystals caused the blight in the Twins. They were designed by a creature called Ultima, and they are sapping the aether from the air for Ultima’s purposes. If I can destroy this one final Mothercrystal, and destroy Ultima for good… The blight ends before it can take this city as it has so many others.”

This was stupid. Why did he feel the need to appeal to her? It wasn’t going to work. He began quickly making his way towards the Core Crystal again. He needed to make this fast…

“Even if you don’t believe me, then at least flee so you may be spared. You don’t have to die for your masters! Too many bearers have died for them already!”

He was starting to sound like Cid, he realized. So passionate about the plight of Bearers… So unwilling to kill them if he could help it.

How different had he become from the man that had slain Tiamet all those years ago, without a second thought?