EPITAPHS: CHAPTER 4
- Oct 5, 2024
- 6 min read
Updated: Apr 21
SHADOW OF BAHAMUT
For almost a year Terence had held out hope that someone would find something.
Anything.
They never did, and likely never would. There was too much wreckage, too much swallowed up by the sea. Even the king of dragons could not survive the sea if he were to fall. The temptation to search until his last breath was strong, but the world was in chaos from the loss of the crystal's blessings, and Terence was not alone. His Prince's orders had been to find the girl, Kihel, and protect her. And as always, Terence had obeyed, and if he could not find his Prince, he could at least carry out his last command.
Though when Terence had heard the rumors that Ifrit and Phoenix had survived the fall of Origin, his immediate thought was hope, a desperately placed, illogical hope, that maybe Dion would come back to him. He'd made contact with the Cursebreakers that protected the two former Dominants, brokered a deal to see them, to ask them what had become of his Prince. It was only when he finally admitted he needed to know, not for what was left of Sanbreque, nor the dragoons, but for himself what had become of the man he loved, that they finally agreed. They took him, after months of assurances and precautions, to their Hideaway in the dead lake, to the infirmary Phoenix and Ifrit were still mostly bound to, guarded by their hound and Shiva and every other person in the Fallen relic they called home.
In some dark corner of his mind, he knew as soon as he saw them that the tale he was about to be given would shatter whatever hopes he still harbored as quickly as they’d risen. Phoenix's weak, raspy breathing and the horrible wracking cough whenever he spoke too long. Ifrit's amputated arm and how weak he was after simply walking across the room with assistance. Even a year after the Fall, they were barely alive compared to when he had seen them last. It was then that it finally became clear, when that horrible truth finally settled in his chest and replaced hope with fact.
Dion had died.
His reaction was...unbecoming...of a dragoon. Words of accusation over the fact that the brothers had survived the final assault while his Prince had not, though if you asked Terence what they'd been he could not rightly remember. It was all a haze of rage and grief. Phoenix and Ifrit had said nothing, their expressions held no real ire, and merely allowed him the space to mourn. He'd left a hollow, empty shell, with only a parting comment that should he require any assistance, they would be willing to help. They owed the Prince that much.
Terence would have liked to say he accepted the olive branch then, realizing that it was not their fault, that his lover would not have wanted his heart calcified with bitterness at the people he had chosen to aid. But the truth of it was that it took a long time, longer than Terence would like to admit, to overcome his resentment and pettiness. In the end it was his duty that forced him to reach out again, and forced him to confront the crux of what hurt the most about Dion's death.
The knowledge that the man Terence loved had died the day Twinside fell. He and Dion had always been bound by duty as much as they were by love, but his prince had lived for duty, for the people of his nation, as much as he had for Terence. Dion's sense of responsibility would never have allowed him to rest after what had happened to the city; to his father. No matter whose machinations they ultimately were.
Terence's acceptance of that hard truth had forged an unlikely tradition, which found himself, Phoenix, Shiva and Ifrit standing in the field of white wyvern tails in front of the monument that had been raised in tribute to the Prince’s sacrifice years later.
It had started simply enough. The former Dominants had found Dion’s lance, left behind before their final assault on Origin. Or maybe found amongst the wreckage as the recovery efforts got underway, he wasn’t exactly sure, and they had not been very forthcoming about details. They felt he should be the one to decide its fate. And so Terence and Kihel had it taken to a field in Sanbreque, which somehow through the Blight, the aether floods, and the throngs of akashic, had managed to survive with its multitudes of white wyvern tails. Since there was never a body to collect, nor honor properly, Terence had used the lance in its stead to mark the Prince’s passing.
That first year of the memorial was one of the hardest. Many remembered the night of Twinside’s demise, the destruction Bahamut rained down on them unprovoked, and the following hardships and catastrophes, the gaping hole where the city had stood before Origin had torn it asunder. Many had their view of the divine wyrm forever changed, and to see someone honoring him as if he hadn’t destroyed all those lives that night…it stirred a rage in the people Terence did not expect. Locals gathered in anger to drive them away, spewing vitriol and disgust at the dragoon and the reminder of the last imperial family.
In the end, it was Shiva who spoke up, as she accompanied the brothers everywhere in those early days they were allowed to leave the safety of their castaway nation, and her stirring speech of anger at their displays of disrespect to a man who gave everything to see that they had a future to even look towards, that broke the small mob’s motivation. That, a few intimidating scowls from Ifrit and a few well placed words from Phoenix to help smooth the tension.
Terence had been stunned into silence during the whole exchange, as he hadn’t expected any of this, least of all for the former Dominant of Ice to be so impassioned for a man she barely knew.
Ifrit had told him later, with a chuckle, that he'd been on the receiving end of such a rant once, that she had a very low tolerance for people taking undeserved ire and blame simply due to a people’s ignorance.
Between Ifrit’s intimidation, Shiva’s shaming, and Phoenix’s speeches, the small mob slowly dispersed until only a scant few remained, allowing Terence and the former Dominants to mourn the Prince in peace. He had assumed that would be the end of it.
Until the next year, when all four of them found themselves in the field again, along with several surviving Dragoons and some of the locals from the nearby villages. Only this time, there was no overt anger. Merely silent observation. Word began to spread, and soon the small marker began gathering other offerings of thanks and respect to honor Dion.
“He’d be proud, you know.”
Terence sighed, but nodded at Phoenix’s raspy words. “It would do his heart good to see that it wasn’t the destruction but the sacrifice to his people that was being remembered. I suppose I have you and your book to thank for that.”
“There is no thanks needed. It was necessary. This is our world, we all deserve to know its story. And besides, it was easier to write it down rather than recite it for others to scribe it,” Phoenix shrugged, clearing his throat mid-sentence as was his habit now.
“But more than that, it would bring him such joy to see that the people have managed to pick themselves up.”
“He deserves to be remembered for who he was, not what Ultima wanted him to be. We certainly wouldn’t be here without him,” Ifrit rumbled from his place at Shiva’s side.
Terence glanced at Ifrit, a small smile of pride playing on his lips. It was a small thing, but hearing that from those who had been there with him at the end, it was not insignificant.
Dion had atoned for whatever perceived sins he’d committed, though perhaps not in the way that Terence had wished. He wished that his Prince could have come back to him, helped rebuild the city he had inadvertently leveled, the nation his family had left in shambles. But this….this would have to be enough. Terence would mourn him the rest of his life, of this he was sure. But Kihel needed him. The people of Sanbreque needed him, and other Dragoons of his caliber. The world was moving forward. He would have to as well.
And if Bahamut’s wings were ever in his shadow, then so be it. It was a small price to pay to have known Dion’s heart. Even for a moment.