VOICES: CHAPTER 1

“So here you are.”

Joshua Rosfield grinned, hearing his brother's gravelly voice behind him.  A glance out of the corner of his eye saw Clive and Jill approaching from the Hideaway’s main area.  

“I was beginning to think you’d sleep forever,” Jill said in jest, joining Joshua at the railing.

She seemed in much better spirits than she had before his incarceration in the infirmary. Clive too, sans the injuries Joshua ALWAYS seemed to find on him whenever their paths had crossed previously, looked in much better shape. He leaned back opposite Jill so they were flanking Joshua. The younger Rosfield chuckled internally, he had a feeling they penned him in so he couldn’t disappear again. Fair enough, he rather deserved it.

Their return from Twinside had been frantic, chaotic, and despite their reunion, there was much to process. Ultima’s motives.  This unnatural haze that had overtaken the skies. Dion’s rampage. Their mother’s suicide.  Not to mention the injured Prince Dion they were transporting and treating along the way.  Most nights, one would be on watch and keeping an eye on Dion’s condition, while the others tried to grab some semblance of sleep, and thus they’d rotate every few hours.  None were spared from the exhaustion.

The very instant Ambrosia and her flock had managed to bring them to the shore of the lake, they all heaved a collective sigh and rested while they waited for the skiff to come ashore. They awoke to a flurry of curses and chastising about improper transport of a very seriously injured man, disregard for their own injuries, and a large chorus of ‘what the fuck happened’ and ‘who the fuck is this’.

Joshua had been abducted by the Hideaway’s physiker, who he very quickly learned was named Tarja, shortly after Dion, and despite his admittedly weak objections, he quickly sank into slumber the instant his head hit the straw pillow.

That had been about a week ago.

“It wasn’t my intention,” Joshua said, and before he could think to stop himself he continued, “Channeling the Phoenix that long can…be exhausting. And Bahamut certainly put her to the test.”

“Her?” Jill raised an eyebrow, her voice carrying a hint of mischievous teasing. “Your Eikon is a she?”

Joshua blinked, completely taken aback by the idle comment, not because he found it offensive, but because it occurred to him that no one had ever asked him…anything…about the Phoenix.  Not even the Undying.  Everyone had always just…assumed.  “That’s what she tells me,” he shrugged helplessly.  He narrowed his eyes in mock glare at his childhood friend.  “Do you find that amusing?”

“No, just, it’s interesting to hear. It’s not like I’ve ever heard anyone talk about Eikons as anything other than a weapon.” Jill grinned, a laugh escaping from her. 

Joshua couldn’t help but laugh in response.  “I suppose that’s true. Given the status of most Dominants, it’s not like we have many opportunities to speak to each other about the nature of our Eikons.” He returned Jill’s teasing glance. “Does Shiva talk to you?”

“At times. She’s rather….blunt, let’s say,” Jill laughed sheepishly. “I used to pester her all the time when I was younger, when my powers emerged. It was…a nice feeling, having someone I could speak to in private and know that my secrets were kept. Even if that someone was not very good at comforting words,” her chuckle held a bit of sadness that Joshua did not miss.

“I can imagine the Warden of Ice does not have the best bedside manner.  I wonder who would be worse, Shiva or Titan, at comforting their Dominant,” Joshua grinned, trying to imagine what in the world Titan’s personality could possibly have been like.  

Jill paused momentarily and snickered.  “She seems mildly offended, you would even think of making the comparison.”

Joshua didn’t even bother to hide the laugh.  He’d missed this, being able to just talk and prod and joke without rank or urgency motivating the conversation.  He’d forgotten how easily words came when it was just Jill and Clive.  “Phoenix has always been that cheerful little voice in the back of my mind. She doesn’t always say things directly, but she likes to throw feelings behind the few things she does. Like a campfire or a hearth instilling that sense of warmth or comfort,” Joshua offered unprompted, looking up at the skies. “Which can be…very awkward when you’re trying to have a serious conversation and she wants to interject.  More than once she has offered up advice while in the middle of conversations that completely derail my train of thought.  It got easier as I got older, understood what was happening more clearly.”

Jill laughed. “The one time when the imaginary friend you would talk to as a child turned out to be real,”  She blinked suddenly and then leaned back to look over Joshua’s shoulder at Clive.  “Oh!  What about you, Clive? What does Ifrit sound like?”

The pause as both Joshua and Jill turned to focus on Clive, who had been silent during this whole exchange, was palpable, and they were met with a completely baffled expression on his face.

“I…um…he…doesn’t?” Clive stammered, suddenly looking rather trapped as he glanced between the two bewildered expressions focused on him. “I wasn’t aware Eikons were capable of speaking to their Dominants.”

“Wait, never?! Even when you’re primed?!” Joshua blurted out, and fully turned around to face his brother with a look that betrayed his excitement.

Clive just shrugged helplessly.  “Aren’t Eikons supposed to be great beasts composed of their elemental aether?”

“Well, yes technically that is what Eikons are…but...” Joshua trailed off and after a moment of thought, shrugged to himself and continued.  “At their core, yes, that’s what an Eikon is, but their need for a human to summon and channel them has over time influenced them.  Over the thousands of years they’ve been bound to mankind, they seem to have developed wills of their own.  The Undying have records of prior Phoenixes that also mention having conversations with the Eikon.  And from what Jill just said, Shiva too, has a voice.  It would not surprise me if the others had voices of their own in some fashion, though to what extent I could only guess.”

“How did you even learn Ifrit's name if he’s never spoken to you?” Jill asked.

“It’s what Ultima called him,” Clive grumbled, unable to keep the sneer from his voice at the thought of the malignant god.  “And unfortunately, he never shuts up.”

“Huh,” Joshua mused, tilting his head at his brother quizzically, comically similar to how one might expect a bird to look at something that had piqued its interest.  “Could that be Ultima’s doing as well, I wonder?”

“Could what be?” Jill prompted, unable to hide her own curiosity.

“Perhaps Ultima is drowning out whatever voice Ifrit might’ve had?  Or suppressing it?  That may go some way to explain some of Ifrit’s more unique qualities,”  Joshua paused momentarily then sighed, his face falling a bit.  “Though, your gift to assimilate other Eikon’s powers might also factor into things. There’s no precedent for how that might affect the bond with an Eikon.”

“Gift. Right,” Clive snorted derisively, rolling his eyes and recrossing his arms over his chest. “Would that I could figure out what that was all about.”

“And, quite frankly, our ability to fuse when we faced Bahamut is…something I never imagined was possible between two Eikons,” Joshua said softly, blowing out a frustrated breath and looking up at the hazy night skies. At least the lack of sun obscured the worst of the off-putting unnatural haze. It didn't make him miss the stars any less. “Even the Phoenix didn’t have any insight on that. She just kept whispering that it would be okay, that I should focus on Bahamut, she would handle the rest.”

“And I meanwhile, heard nothing. Only Joshua,” Clive sighed.  “I don’t suppose the Phoenix heard any mystery voices while we were merged?”

Joshua only shook his head.

“It’s difficult enough for Dominants and Eikons to find their balance just with one another. Bring another set into the mix, it would require an immense amount of trust between all four.”  Jill said, glancing between the two brothers.

“It was as if we were still our own persons, but were directing one entity.  As if Clive were steering and I was managing the artillery.  Though the fires did feel…rougher, than the Phoenix’s. More powerful but with less direction. As if they were confused as to where to go until the phoenix flames illuminated a path for them.”

“That sounds about right,” Clive agreed. “Everything about Ifrit is chaotic.  Just…pure instinct.” 

“An untempered fire raging without control or direction. It’s a small wonder you’ve managed to control him as much as you have if that’s truly Ifrit’s nature,” Joshua sighed, still deep in thought, mentally sifting through the knowledge he’d managed to find amongst his travels, in the libraries, but still coming up frustratingly short of explanations as to the mystery that was his brother’s eikon.

Clive, meanwhile, suddenly pinched the bridge of his nose and grunted a bit in irritation, a shift Jill did not miss.

“Clive?”

“I don’t think he liked that assessment,” Clive grumbled tersely, rubbing his eyes.

“You’re sure it’s Ifrit?” 

“Ultima always feels more foul, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“So he’s aware, at least,” Joshua smirked. “I suppose that’s a start.”

“Founder, do your Eikons do this to you all the time when they want attention?” Clive groaned, glancing up at nothing in annoyance, as if a stray piece of hair had somehow offended him. It was almost comical.

Jill and Joshua simply looked at each other and shrugged.

“You get used to it, after a while,” Jill smiled, patting Clive’s shoulder sympathetically. 

“You might want to try talking to him when you get a chance,” Joshua suggested. “If he’s aware, it might help drown out some of Ultima’s influence, if that is indeed what’s keeping Ifrit silent.”

“Is that your suggestion, or the Phoenix’s?” Clive raised an eyebrow at his little brother, who shrugged sheepishly.

“Maybe a bit of both.”

“Wonderful,” Clive grumbled, but there was no malice in his voice.  “Just have a midnight chat with the Impossible Eikon, what could go wrong?  Shall I invite him out for tea and cakes while I’m at it?”

Jill had to laugh at the sheer mundane-ness of it all.  “It’d be a nice change of pace from the usual blood and brimstone.”

“Does Shiva want to throw in her advice too?  Maybe we could get Bahamut to weigh in as well?”  Joshua couldn’t resist the urge to chime in with the good natured ribbing.  

Jill smirked and leveled a smug look at Joshua.  “I believe the words she is using right now would make Gav blush.  I can translate, if you’d like?”

“Yes, profanities and insults, I’m sure that is what will solve the mystery of Ifrit,” Clive added dryly, rolling his eyes at the other two.

Joshua couldn’t help but laugh along with the turn into absurdity this conversation had taken.  They hadn’t gotten any closer to any answers, and indeed had only succeeded in raising more questions.  It was frivolous and strained, but this was a laugh they all sorely needed, however fleeting.  It didn’t drive away the exhaustion in Clive’s voice, the harsh edge in Jill’s, or the despondent look in Joshua’s eyes.  It didn’t change the facts of the situation as it was. 

But it was…however…when everything shifted.  All because of a simple question no one would have thought to ask of a weapon.  

What does Ifrit sound like?

---

Ever since that ridiculous conversation, Clive had started to become more aware of the little prods and nudges in the back of his mind.  Little things that any normal person, magic-wielder or not, would never have thought to question.  Though with the nature of that conversation in mind, he now had to wonder about the things that he normally just attributed to stress or a bad day.   

It was a distinctly unique and unsettling feeling, realizing he wasn’t alone in his head, and indeed hadn’t truly been since the Night of Flames.  To learn that this gigantic elemental weapon that he carried was not just a manifestation of aether than he could summon, but was supposed to have a will, even an identity all its own.   To find out that once again, something about the two of them was an anomaly, as apparently every other Dominant regularly carried on conversations with their Eikons.

Though really, what was one more strange thing about them at this point?  He was no ordinary Dominant, as Cid had so eloquently put it, and that trend sadly seemed to continue about pace.    But in a strange sort of way, it was…comforting, knowing that everything he’d been through since the Night of Flames, so too had Ifrit. 

Until that night when Joshua had made the comment about Ifrit’s nature, and a dull pulsing headache suddenly started behind Clive’s eyes.  It was so much like those splitting headaches that accompanied some of Ultima’s unwelcome visits, but as Clive had said, this did not have the foul invasive feel that the deranged god always carried with him.  It felt more akin to a disgruntled shove, maybe one between arguing comrades.  Clive had chuckled internally at that thought.  He couldn’t have come up with a better description of his relationship with his Eikon if he’d tried.  

But that particular revelation, that Ifrit should be able to talk, seemed to set something in motion. Not long after, the Eikon’s presence started becoming more noticeable to Clive outside of combat, and more frequent. The Hellfire Eikon didn’t use words so much, not in the way Jill and Joshua described them. Instead the Eikon’s intentions seemed to seep into Clive, almost as if Ifrit were trying to take control of him without priming.  A growl of irritation that was maybe more forceful than Clive had intended. A sword swing that hit a bit harder than he thought it should’ve been. A cold night that didn’t feel quite so frigid or a hot day that didn’t bother him as much as it should. Small nudges and adjustments that Clive did not have anything to do with.  

The first few times, it had caught Clive by surprise.  He’d noticed it some, but couldn’t quite figure out what was happening until the merchant he was haggling with, who was being extra belligerent and infuriating that day, paused mid-rant and with wide panicked eyes immediately gave in to Clive’s requests and apologized profusely.  Clive had been completely baffled by the merchant’s sudden change of heart until he caught a glimpse of his reflection in some shiny metal or other that had been nearby.

His eyes apparently had gone Eikon yellow without his realizing it, and only then did Clive notice Ifrit’s presence that had bubbled up as his frustrations had mounted.  He’d managed to compose himself by the time the merchant looked up again, but he started paying more attention after that.  Slowly Clive learned to identify which little pangs and growls in his mind were likely of Ifrit's influence, and which remained his own.  It was as if being acknowledged had coaxed Ifrit out of whatever slumber he had been returning to in between the sporadic life-or-death confrontations with other Eikons, but existing outside of combat was still something he could not fully grasp.  Clive did note, at least, that he managed to convince the hellfire warden to use painless nudges instead of the brutish mental slugs for attention he’d been using.

And so Clive had taken Joshua’s advice to heart and tried to engage the Eikon. On the not-so-infrequent occasions that he was out running errands for the Hideaway and Cid the Outlaw’s various allies, if he was on his own, he’d try talking, though mostly he ended up just talking to himself, or Torgal. Ifrit did not seem interested in, or capable of, answering directly. But when he was looking for it, he could tell something was paying attention. 

“You know,” Clive had muttered under his breath one night on the road, while settling Ambrosia and Torgal into the stables. “It would be far easier if we could just figure out what Ultima wants with us. And why he keeps calling us Mythos. That isn’t your name is it? I haven’t been calling you Ifrit all these years by mistake?”

There was no real response, save for a ripple of distaste. Clive had to chuckle. It was like Torgal when the hound sniffed something particularly offensive.

“Didn’t think so,” Clive chuckled. “It’s times like this I miss Cid the most. He always had some sort of insight into things like this.”

There was an odd flutter in his chest, and he could feel the telltale static crackle that accompanied Ramuh when Clive summoned Cid’s old eikon. Except Clive hadn’t called it. He paused a bit in confusion, until he felt the familiar nudge that he could now identify as his own Eikon. Ifrit had called up Ramuh’s power, or at least drawn Clive’s attention to it. Well that was new, and probably the most active initiative Ifrit had taken in any of the non-combative conversations Clive had had with him over the last few weeks.

“Yes, I know he gave us his power before he died but that’s…it's not what I meant. Founder how to explain this…” Clive swore, pausing briefly to try and gather his words. “It’s not just Ramuh’s powers. The old tomes always spoke of Ramuh’s Dominant having wisdom beyond their years, insight beyond what was normal. Cid had plans upon plans, and when those ran out, he had more plans waiting in the wings. And if he didn’t, he’d be able to just figure something out.  His oh so vaunted opportunities to grow and change."

Clive chuckled a bit as a thought struck him.  "Just look at us. Both Jill and I got roped into his schemes without him barely needing to twist our arms, and now here we are, Cid the Second and all of Storm’s Mothercrystals later. What built the foundations for that wasn’t Ramuh’s power alone. It was both of them together. A team. Something we very much are not.”

He’d added that last part bitterly, and the low growl at the back of his mind rumbled in irritation.

“Oh you do not get to grumble about that, it’s true. We are always scrambling to catch up, always barely holding it together. And who could blame us? Even after all this time, I don’t know the first thing about being a Dominant beyond the obvious, let alone one for an Eikon no one thought existed.  I didn't even know you were supposed to be able to talk!” Clive snapped back, a combination of his own frustrations mixing with Ifrit's making his words come out harsher than he'd intended. "And that's before you throw in a delusional god and a 'gift' with a taste for other eikons."

A more forceful pang in his temples made Clive grind his teeth and his eyes narrow.

“Oh and I suppose you have answers? By all means, enlighten me then.”

There was a deeper growl, but by the receding pain, it lacked any real teeth. A grudging acknowledgment, then.

“Yeah, we’re a piss poor pair, aren’t we?  Fumbling around in the dark as we are,” Clive scoffed. He gave the chocobo hen and hound a good set of scritches before grabbing his satchel, blowing out a frustrated breath as he shouldered the bag and headed towards the inn. “But...for what it's worth, we're still here.  And at least we’re not alone in this anymore.”

There was no answer this time, but like so many times since that night, Clive noted that Ifrit didn’t entirely disappear back into the shadows as he had before.

---

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