"Then he made one last effort to search in his heart for the place where his affection had rotted away and he could not find it."

-Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

"What you have in mind is impossible, Hope. True, you were able to time travel using a slightly different method than myself and a select few, but this is... Even I can't help you."

"Someone has to get them out of there when Cocoon falls! Are you telling me that we can't save Fang and Vanille?"

Balthier drew in a sharp breath. All these years, and deep down Hope was still that angry child, bottling his emotions until they burst. His heart was truly in the right place, but what he wanted to accomplish was impossible—for a human. Had he still be a l'Cie, Balthier wouldn't have been so reluctant.

"No, I'm saying that you're not the right man for the job."

"Then who is? You?" Hope shouted. "Where have you been all these years? Where did you go after we defeated Orphan? You abandoned us, Balthier! You abandoned me, Lightning, Snow—"

Hope stopped himself. Good, Balthier considered saying. You're learning. It hadn't been his choice to leave, and had it been up to him... he very well wouldn't have left. At the time, Balthier had lost his memories of his journey with Ashe and the others; perhaps it was the result of another paradox. He didn't have a reason to go back to Ivalice—other than Fran, of course.

Truly, if it had been his choice, he would have stayed.

"Balthier, I..."

He waved a hand at Hope and turned the other way. "I understand. Everyone is entitled to a little bitterness now and then," Balthier said with a small shrug. "We left you behind. No one blames you for being angry, Hope."

"I'm not angry. I'm disappointed." Hope's shoulders slumped. "For years I wanted to know I was the one who had to stay behind. I know there was a reason; there always is. Or... maybe I just didn't want to believe that everyone forgot about me."

"Hah! The fears of a child."

"I'm not a child anymore, Balthier," Hope growled. "I think I'm older than you now."

Balthier paused. It wasn't entirely impossible. Physically, they were both in their twenties, with Hope being a good few years older. However, they were both old souls. Hope had spent hundreds of years in stasis, while Balthier had seen so many different timelines, watched as friends grew old and passed on. Old souls... No wonder he felt like an old man.

Sighing, he waved a hand at Hope. "Never you mind. Let's get back to the task at hand. I will do what I can for Fang and Vanille. Give me some time, and I'll think of something."

"Director Estheim, sir, we're not sure what is causing the disturbance, but—"

"We tried to stop it, honestly, sir!"

"There was nothing we could do! This man, the man from the Oracle Drive recordings, he came out of nowhere and suddenly everything went strange!"

Hope ran a hand over his eyes and sighed. "Stop. Breathe. Then explain," he said. "What I want to know is how an assailant bypassed security and reached my chambers. You can start there."

Not even ten minutes had passed, and already Hope had been swarmed by his little gaggle of Academy researchers and bombarded with both questions and pleas for forgiveness. Balthier pitied the poor child – man – for having to deal with what could have been called the "burden of the world". Hope had the world on his shoulders, quite literally, for hundreds of years as he led the Academy, and by leading them he also had to put up with the most ridiculous things.

That said, perhaps Balthier was a little bitter over the fact that these people had been watching him. They didn't even know his name, but they had been keeping track of his every move, at least as best as they could.

The poor researcher, an intern perhaps, looked ready to collapse under Hope's gaze. Her lip quivered as if she were about to cry, but she kept her shoulders back and head held high. Balthier rolled his eyes. He couldn't let these people take all the blame, but...

"Caius Ballad has also realized that you are the hope of humanity," he interrupted. "This isn't the first time he's made an attempt on your life, Hope. A hundred years ago, he enlisted someone on the inside to sabotage not only your mission, but Lightning's as well."

Hope squinted, keeping his eyes focused on the floor. What he didn't know was that Caius had been working with Hope's own assistant, Alyssa Zaidelle. The girl had been dead for years in the true timeline, but because of a paradox she had been revived and given the chance to live again. She wanted to keep on living, so she chose to work against Hope and the others. She tried to kill him. She had him at gunpoint, and—

then she was gone. There was no trace of her existence after the Purge. Not even Hope remembered her.

It was tragic, really, but such was the fate of a paradox.

"Caius believed that killing me would result in the termination of the metashield project," Hope said. "Is that true?"

"It's what I've been led to believe. Can't be too sure with that man, though," Balthier answered. "I know what he's really after... and the sad truth is that I can understand his pain a little too well."

Hope looked at him. "So there is more to this, isn't there."

"There always is."

They later learned that with Caius's multiple attempts to sabotage the metashield project, the Academy had been forced to put it on hold for a good twenty-years. Even with Balthier trying to keep things in line, it was not enough for them to recover as quickly as possible. They were not able to complete the project on time.

Someone needed to go into Cocoon's pillar and get Fang and Vanille out, but none of the pilots were prepared to risk their own lives and ships to make that trip. Balthier considered taking a ship and doing it himself, but Hope had other ideas.

"I plan to go into Cocoon myself," he said as they walked to the main computer. "I might not be a l'Cie, but I can handle it."

"There's the risk of inhaling crystal dust," Balthier added. "After Cocoon falls, most of the populace will find themselves plagued with a brand new disease created by the collapse. Nasty way to die, actually. Your lungs turn to crystal, and—"

"Balthier, please. We're getting off track."

"Ah, right. Best focus on the present rather than the future. That's the exact opposite of what we've been doing all this time."

Balthier was surprised that he didn't see a vein pop out of Hope's forehead at this point.

"Look, I understand that my actions might cause trouble somewhere down the line. Believe me, there have been a few close calls, and if it wasn't for Serah and the others... we wouldn't be standing here right now. What I mean is that for now, we need to focus on Fang and Vanille. Not ourselves, not the future... Just them."

"And what I mean is that you can't go in there alone, Hope. You asked for my help."

"So help me!" Hope yelled, holding out his arms. Then, after a moment, he deflated and lowered his head. "I just... I can't waste any more time, Balthier. Fang and Vanille need me."

"They need all of us, not just you." Balthier turned around and made for the door, fingers curled at his sides. "Come and find me when you've realized that you're not the only who cares for them."

It wasn't easy to find a quiet place to think in Academia. The city appeared to be as sophisticated and orderly as Archades, but deep down it was as lively as Balfonheim during the busiest season of the year. Balthier holed himself up in the library, of all places, where there were only a few researchers hard at work that evening. They kept their voices low, murmuring to one another as they scanned the computers and wrote down notes here and there.

However, he caught the way they glanced at him from time to time. He would have killed for a change of clothing; he used to thrive as the center of attention, but this armor made him stand out far too much for his liking.

And... this place reminded him of Draklor. No wonder he'd avoided this city for so long.

"No matter how far into the future I go," he muttered, "the past never fails to catch me."

There was a gentle knock on the bookcase next to him.

"Um, sir?" It was one of the interns from earlier; a pale girl with red braids. She must have worked directly under Hope. "Director Estheim thought you might want to take a look at this."

She handed him a tablet computer—at least that's what the scientists called it. It was far beyond Ivalice's technology, yet it was easy to understand once the girl explained it to him ("It reacts to touch, sir."). With a simple stroke of his finger, the screen flickered on.

"We transferred our Oracle Drive recordings onto this device," she explained. "These are all the recordings we've acquired over the years."

"And why does Director Hope want me to look at this... device?"

"He didn't say."

And that was that. The girl left as swiftly as she arrived. The library had quieted down, and, in fact, it appeared that everyone had left as well. Balthier looked at the tablet and selected what appeared to be a folder of recordings, though he wasn't surprised at what he found. He had watched some of these himself, even witnessed them in reality, so he ended up skipping through most of them. Nearly all of them were about Lightning and her infinite battles in Valhalla, though occassionally Ashe and the others appeared, too. It switched to the Shiva, being consumed by flames, then Balthier's own tear streaked face as he held Snow in his arms.

Balthier closed the video and pushed the tablet aside. "You're a bastard, Hope," he muttered.

"After we went our separate ways, I found a gate in the Void Beyond... then I started looking around—for Balthier and sis, you know."

Wait. Balthier picked up the tablet again. It was another recording from the Academy, though the video had been corrupted over the years. But that voice—

"—swear I saw Balthier the other day, but... I don't think he saw me. Figures. He's still looking the other way."

Was this what Hope wanted him to find? It didn't do anything for Balthier other than remind him what an idiot Snow was, though he supposed that some things never would change. Snow had been to Academia nearly one-hundred years before, but where was he now? Was he still traveling through time?

Of course he was. Snow wouldn't stop until he found his family and brought them home.

However, it meant that Snow was still out there, and they should have crossed paths at some point, like he had with Ashe and the others. Unless...

Balthier scrolled down the screen until he came to the latest recording. It was dated just days after Snow's last message. There was video this time, but the recording was so poor quality that it was difficult to see his face.

"So here I am, in the Void Beyond. I heard there's some kind of coliseum place up ahead. I've got something I need to do there."

The coliseum? Balthier had heard talk of an arena where warriors battled one another in hopes of becoming stronger, but what reason did Snow have for going there?

"I'm worried about what that Caius guy is planning," the recording continued. "He's bad news. Promise you'll take things slow, Serah. Don't try to fight him without really thinking about it, okay? Don't... don't be like me."

But that was exactly what Serah intended to do. She, Noel and Ashe were going to fight Caius and settle this once and for all, so she must not have seen this. Instead she followed her sister's instructions and went charging off to battle. Had she thought about the consequences? It almost felt like Snow knew something else, or perhaps he was hiding something from Serah. He needed to get stronger in order to fight Caius and to protect Serah, so he went to this coliseum.

And that was it. No one at the Academy had heard anything else from him for a hundred years.

Balthier turned off the tablet and stood. "You fool, Villiers," he said. "You've gotten yourself trapped, haven't you?"

He knew what he had to do.

Balthier left a message for Hope with one of the interns: Wait for me. Don't do anything until I return.

The coliseum... was completely barren. There was not a single spectator in the stands, nor did he see any of these so called "mighty warriors". There weren't even scuffs on the marble tile; no signs of any battles taking place here. Perhaps the coliseum had been abandoned, and the Oracle Drive was wrong? And yet... He could sense Etro's magick in this place. Yes, it was faint—but it was still there.

Balthier's fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword. As he made his way down the stairs, Etro's presence only got stronger. It was as if Etro herself stood before him, but as far as he knew she was still hidden away in Valhalla, being protected by Lightning. Did her readh go this far, even to the Void Beyond? If Etro was here and knew what he was about to do...

No, she wouldn't waste her time on a poor soul like him. He had already turned his back on her.

"Do you seek a trial?"

The low voice startled him. Balthier froze in place, eyes darting around until they rested upon the shadowy figure materialized before him.

Ah, so this was the guardian of the coliseum.

"I am not here to fight," Balthier said. "I came to find—"

"Name yourself."

Balthier frowned. "That's the second time some otherworldly being has asked for my name. At least you're looking for a more direct answer, I hope," he replied. "I am..." a knight of Etro? A sky pirate? Nobody? "I am Ffamran mied Bunansa, and I have come here for a friend."

The guardian regarded him silently.

"Oh? Is that not good enough for you?" Balthier asked. "Shall I name my father, his father, and his father's father—"

"You are one of the goddess's men," the guardian said.

"Was, actually. The payment wasn't what I expected." Balthier rested a hand on his hip. "As I said, I'm here for my idiot friend. He got himself in trouble with your lot, apparently. Snow Villiers? I assume you've seen him around here."

"Balthier?"

—right on cue.

Snow jumped down from the stands, and, before Balthier could even speak, he all but threw his arms around Balthier and pulled him close. Snow held him so tightly, he thought his armor was going to snap. Balthier lifted his head slightly so he could rest it on Snow's shoulder.

This... was real. This was no illusion crafted by Etro to motivate him, nor was it a fabrication of his own broken mind. Snow's skin was warm this time, and his breath came out in a heavy sigh of relief. He was alive. He was alive, and he was real, and this was no dream, and—

The last time I held you, you were dead.

Balthier shut his eyes, hands trembling at his sides.

"Where the hell have you been?" Snow murmured against Balthier's hair. "What took you so long?"

It took him a moment to find his voice. "Oh, you know," Balthier said. "There were things I had to do, people to save..."

"The leading man really doesn't take a day off, huh?" Snow drew away, but kept his hands on Balthier's shoulders. "Is that why you told me to stay behind?"

"I wanted you to go back home. I had hoped you knew better than to mess around with the timeline."

"Yeah, I could say the same to you."

Well, he wasn't wrong.

It was only then that Snow seemed to remember they weren't alone; he dropped his hands and took a step back. Balthier turned his head toward the guardian, but—

no one was there.

"The Arbiter of Time," Snow said. "He lords over the coliseum and has us all fight. To train for some big battle, he said."

"He commands you?"

Snow shrugged. "Something like that. There's a reason I haven't gone back to Serah yet."

To put it simply: he couldn't leave. Snow and the other warriors were trapped here by the Arbiter of Time, forced to do battle until... when? The end of time itself? This place was Etro's domain, so this must have been her doing. Once again Balthier found himself doubting the goddess's true intentions. She had led him along like a good master, but when he disobeyed she was quick to take away his freedom. But she didn't expect him to bite back and run away.

However... she did bring Snow back to life. It wasn't all a waste. Snow seemed to be in good health, though the brand on his arm told otherwise. The eye had yet to open, Balthier noted with a quiet sigh. There was also that scar across the bridge of his nose, courtesy of Lightning's gunblade.

"I'm getting you out of here," Balthier said. "Playtime is over. Serah needs you."

Snow's smile fell. "She does, huh?"

"She and the others will be waiting for us in Valhalla, and you can never make a lady wait. It's bad form, Villiers."

"You made me wait."

Balthier snorted. "You're not a lady."

"Well...!" Snow's face colored, and he crossed his arms. "You get what I mean, right? I had to go look for you, because you kept..." He stopped himself, eyes drifting to the floor.

"Running away?" Balthier asked. "Go on. You can say it. It's not the first time someone has called me a deserter."

Snow didn't get the chance, for not a second later the Arbiter of Time interrupted.

"Those who stand above the rest may leave the Void Beyond. Fight, and the goddess shall be merciful."

The goddess? Balthier balled his fists. Yet again, Etro denied him his heart's desire, forced him to go back on his word—

No, not this time. He waited long enough.

"There's no other way," Snow said quietly. "Doesn't matter who wins... one of us has to stay behind. I'm not letting you give up your freedom for me, Balthier."

"Serah is waiting for you," Balthier reminded him, drawing his sword. "Don't you dare break her heart again, Snow."

Snow took another step back, then raised his arms in a defensive crouch. "You're joking, right?"

"I suppose being a knight of Etro might give me a slight advantage," Balthier said. "But you're a l'Cie again. You're not entirely powerless."

"You already knew, huh. It's stupid, isn't it? Got myself branded so I had the power to help Serah and find Lightning. Courtesy of your goddess, actually."

Balthier's breath caught in his throat. No, that was impossible. Etro herself couldn't brand humans... could she?

"I asked for this, don't worry. I know better than to let some god or goddess get their hands on me." Snow laughed quietly, then added, "Again. So, you ready?"

"I thought you didn't want to fight me."

"Well I also know you're stubborn as a behemoth, so there's no changing your mind once you've made it. Gimme your best shot, alright? No cheating, either."

"The thought never crossed my mind," Balthier replied.

Snow made the first move – he cracked his knuckles and cast a Bravery spell upon himself. While neither of them truly wanted to fight each other, Snow was making it too easy. His stance left him wide open and defenseless, and he relied too heavily on his magick to absorb the blunt of each blow. Balthier raised his sword. In that case, he wouldn't give Snow a chance to put up any more defenses.

He charged his sword with strengthening magick and rushed toward Snow, but a wall of ice burst from the floor—and Balthier collided with it before he could even think about stopping.

"Ice?" he spluttered, rubbing his head. "Honestly, you're just making it easier to call you that—"

He took a step back and slipped. Not only had Snow conjured an ice wall, but the entire floor was frozen as well. Balthier had little time to react before Snow jumped out from behind the wall, tackling him to the floor.

And Snow was grinning at him. Did he really think this was a game? It was his life on the line, and he was making a game of it! Of course, to him it really looked like he had the upper hand. Show had Balthier pinned to the floor in a matter of seconds, so he must have thought victory was in his grasp.

However...

A white light and an explosion rocked the arena, and an unseen force slammed Snow against the wall. Balthier sat up as Ultima, his dearest Seraph, appeared at his side and held her hand out to him. She was a comforting sight, always there when he needed her. The last he had seen of her was in Valhalla, after Caius had nearly killed him, and if Ultima hadn't saved him—

He shuddered at the thought.

But he hadn't called for her. Usually he never really had to; Ultima knew when she was needed, and when she wasn't. Through their bond, she could sense when Balthier was in enough danger that he required her aid. Yet why now? Why attack Snow?

Ah... of course. In her eyes, Snow had turned against Balthier. He was a traitor that threatened her master.

"... the hell? Hey, you can't summon your Eidolon!" Snow grunted as he got back to his feet. He appeared to be unharmed—that was a relief.

"Esper," Balthier corrected, accepting Ultima's aid. "And unlike you and your Eidolons, I have no need to call for her. She comes and goes as she pleases."

"Tell her to cut it out! She's giving me a weird look."

"What else is she supposed to do? You attacked me."

Snow threw his arms into the air in defeat. "An Eido—an esper that comes and goes as she pleases," he said exasperatedly. "I really have seen it all."

Ultima turned her gaze toward Balthier, meeting his eyes as if to ask "are you serious?". Balthier knew he couldn't stop her in she wanted to stay, but she wasn't really needed. If she wanted to play the role of the silent guardian, by all means, he would allow it. But he didn't need her to come to his rescue this time, especially when he didn't intend to come out victorious.

He wanted Snow to win his freedom and, in turn, go back to Serah.

Ultima's hand touched his shoulder before he felt her presence fade. He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed, then raised his sword again.

"Where were we?"

It seemed that Ultima's unexpected appearance pushed Snow into taking the fight more seriously. His attacks were far more aggressive, forcing Balthier to focus more on defense than he had wanted. Part of him wanted to drop his sword and surrender, but the other, that persistant, proud part of him, needed to win.

Although he wasn't the one wearing armor, Snow was still slower than Balthier, and while he did fight barehanded it didn't mean he was absolutely defenseless against a sword. In fact, he knew exactly how to counter Balthier's attacks and block them. He used one arm to block, the other to strike. However, with each blow, Snow started to slow down. He'd spent all his magickal energy and now relied on brute strength, but he was getting tired. Sweat dripped down his brow as he pulled away from Balthier, shoulders beginning to slump.

"How," Snow panted, "the hell are you not tired?"

"You're trying to finish this too quickly," Balthier said, gritting his teeth. "You're not thinking. Strike first, think later. You've not changed at all, Ice."

"What's that supposed to mean? I'm fighting you, aren't I? That's what you wanted!"

"I want you to go back to Serah."

"You sure about that? Why're you... so deadset on sending me away?"

The words "I can't bear to lose you again" crossed his mind. It was better to keep his distance and push Snow towards Serah than face the alternative: lose Snow again. He was too reckless on his own; at least with Serah he would consider her feelings before making any decisions. Or so Balthier hoped he would.

"I asked Etro to bring you back," Balthier said. "I had hoped you wouldn't waste your second chance of life, and be with Serah again. That's all I want—"

"You're lying. That's not all you want, is it?" Snow asked. "Let's be honest with each other. You wouldn't ask a goddess to bring me back just because you felt bad and wanted me to be with Serah again."

"I'm wounded, Ice. Do you really think me so heartless?"

"No, I know you. You've always had a hidden agenda, and sometimes you don't even realize it. Am I right?"

"I admit, I..." Balthier frowned. "Snow Villiers, are you taunting me?"

Snow grinned. "Maybe I'm just trying to rile you up."

"You're doing a terrible job. It'll take much more than that to..."

He trailed off as arms wrapped around him, and he nearly dropped his sword. It wasn't really unexpected, as this was exactly the kind of thing he expected from Snow, but that didn't mean it didn't... hurt. That heavy, but empty feeling sank in his chest, reminding him that this was so very wrong. He didn't belong here, and neither did Snow. He wasn't going to allow himself to feel anything towards Snow, not even happiness or anger—

because Snow belonged somewhere else.

"Ice," Balthier said, his voice quiet. "Ice, we're in the middle of a battle, and you—"

Snow started to laugh as he pulled away. "Would it really kill you to give me a hug for once?" he asked.

"It might. I'm not the sentimental type."

The bandana around his wrist told otherwise, but Snow didn't say anything. He sighed as if that wasn't the answer he wanted, and he rolled his eyes and stepped back again. "You're really making this easy for me, Balthier."

"Pardon?"

It happened all too fast. Snow slammed his fist into Balthier's stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and, with impressive force, threw him into the air and sent him flying. Balthier swore he felt something break when he crashed into the stands, and Snow probably made a fist-shaped dent in his armor. With a wave of his hand, he patched up his armor and mended any injuries.

"You riled up yet?" Snow called out.

Oh, he was. Balthier took advantage of Snow's momentary distraction and ran straight for him, sword raised, but he had other intentions. He needed payback for that punch. Balthier's fist collided with Snow's face, then he swiped at Snow's legs and pushed him to the floor. Snow looked up just as Balthier held his sword against his neck.

That was it. He won.

Balthier's chest heaved with each labored breath, and his heart felt like it would burst from overexertion. He lifted his head and wiped the sweat from his brow, then crumpled to the floor in a broken heap. All he needed was a moment of rest. He had no idea he was this tired...

A hand rested on his shoulder.

"So," Snow said, just as breathless, "do we call it a draw?"

"I was the last one standing," Balthier replied. "But I had an unfair advantage."

"Yeah, yeah, if being Etro's knight counts as cheating."

"It should. Even now, the goddess lends me her strength. It doesn't matter if you're human or l'Cie, I will still—"

"Come out on top," Snow finished and rolled his eyes. "I sorta miss when I had to save your scrawny butt from the oretoises on Pulse."

Balthier chuckled. "You're the one that felt the need to taunt them."

"Wanna go tackle one right now?"

"I'll pass. Fang would be terribly angry with us for not inviting her."

Snow laughed. It was a welcome sound, despite the lingering aminosity and guilt. Balthier longed for this moment to never end, but there was no running away from the truth: Snow had to stay behind. He lost, and Balthier won. There would be no chasing oretoises for them, no more joking around or laughing until Snow found a way to escape the coliseum—

and return to Serah.

Balthier brought his knees to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. It always went back to Serah. What would he say to her? 'Sorry, but I couldn't throw the battle and let Snow win'? Balthier couldn't bear to see her cry, and he knew how much it pained Snow to make her wait for him.

"I do want you to go back to Serah," Balthier said. "I truly do, Snow. But I won't deny that I thought only about myself and my selfish desires when I asked for Etro's aid."

"You missed me that bad, huh?"

It was much more than that, so much more, but Balthier wasn't willing to admit it when he wasn't so sure what he felt himself.

"Seeing you die brought things into perspective for me," Balthier answered. "I've changed, Snow. I've done many things I regret, but... bringing you back was not one of them. I'm glad I had the chance to see you again."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's time we parted ways again, I'm afraid. I won our fight, which means you've no choice but to stay here until someone else challenges you."

"Hey, don't be like that," Snow said quietly, slinging his arm around Balthier's shoulders. "If you keep frowning like that, we're gonna have to go for round two so I can really kick your butt."

"It would set you free. If I could just take your place..."

"What good would it do, huh? You've gotta go out there and help Serah for me. You... need to be there for her until I get out of here." Snow shook his head. "I told that Noel kid to watch over her, but he might get distracted. I think he has the hots for Ashe."

Balthier looked at him.

"You know! He likes her and all, so he's probably gonna protect her before anyone else! So..." Snow shifted his gaze to the side and scratched at his nape. "There's no one I trust more than you. I know you'll protect Serah for me."

"She's a strong girl. She doesn't need anyone to protect her."

"Yeah, she is. But I want to make sure she's all right out there. I don't—I don't want her to be alone."

Balthier frowned. "Ice, what are you talking about?"

"Victory is yours, knight of Etro. Go now, and seek a new future." The Arbiter of Time returned to the arena. "The goddess still has use for you."

Snow got up and offered Snow his hand. "Come on. He's right: you've got a future to save."

Balthier took his hand and stoof, but—he could not accept this. He couldn't abandon Snow again.

"As champion, I have the right to challenge anyone I wish," he murmured. "Is that not so?"

The Arbiter remained silent.

"I'm not one to give up so easily," Balthier continued. "And so I challenge you, guardian. Should I defeat you, Snow will be set free. Should I lose—well, you'll have yourself another warrior."

"What are you doing, Balthier?" Snow hissed in his ear. "You can't bet your own life like that, especially not for me! You're supposed to get out of here, and—"

"Ice, do me a favor and stay out of this." Balthier picked up his sword and held it high. "Do you accept my challenge?"

The Arbiter laughed lowly. "You are a fool to squander your freedom," he said. "The goddess granted you such power, yet you disgrace her and challenge one of her own men? Foolish children of Man! The crime you commit is grievous indeed."

Chaos, ribbons of gold and black clouds, enveloped the Arbiter as he rose from the floor. Balthier took a step back and tightened his grip on his sword. This so called guardian of the coliseum was much more than he seemed. He was more than just another of Etro's pawns.

"The Arbiter of Time serves the goddess of death in all her merciless splendor! All mortal beings stand as equals when they receive their ultimate judgment!" Chaos burst from his armor and surrounded them, and the air grew colder by the second. "Only the most powerful are chosen to pass this sentence. Your sin is your arrogance. Such hubris, to think you could challenge me!"

"Balthier," Snow warned, grabbing his arm as the Arbiter of Time—no, Valfodr himself towered over them.

"Drown in seas of blood, writhe in infernal flame, and suffer eternal torment! Your punishment awaits!"

I wish I had a good excuse for you guys, but I don't. I went through three drafts of this chapter in the past year, though most of the time I really considered abandoning this story - because I haven't gotten any feedback or support. I still don't know if people are still reading this story, but... I suppose we'll see. Any kind of feedback at this point would help, because we're so close to the end, and I'd hate to stop writing now. So please review?

(Don't worry; we'll see Ashe and the others again soon. Balthier's sticking around for at least one more chapter.)