I've discovered a game that I may love as much as the Final Fantasy Franchise – and from ME that's saying something. In honor of this new adventure I give to you my first game fanfic. I hope it does the story justice. Warning for End Game Spoilers!!!

Chapter 1: How Long is Too Long?

He was a hero.

True King of Cassandra. Liberator. Savior of the world. Slayer of the False God – as Veros was now called. Blade of the Unblessed.

The first time he had heard these titles he had thought they were speaking of Sigmund.

But Sigmund hadn't brought down Veros; nor was he an Unblessed.

No, it was him they hailed; Capell.

He heard the rumors, the stories they told of him. Sometimes they were told right to his face, the speaker unaware who they were really spinning their tale for. He wasn't exactly in disguise; his former clothes would be a dead giveaway to anyone who had known him before. But to the masses he was just a traveling musician. It was safer that way, at least for now. He'd gotten caught once already claiming to be a dead man and only gotten off unscathed because he had still been successfully cutting chains. Because the Aristos had needed him, though none came out directly and said it. Better to keep Sigmund's armor and sword tucked away in the large pack he strapped to his back.

At least until he got home – wherever that would be now.

For the first few months, in the desolate palace where the Force had made their final stand, he had begun to wonder if making that promise to return had been a set up for failure. There was no way off of the moon; nothing there to take him safely back to the world he had fought so hard to protect. And with the exception of the little squirrel-like creatures that lived in the palace like lunar house mice, he was the only living thing there. It was depressing, but he kept moving. Sitting in one place wasn't going to do him any good.

Then came the fateful day he found a very fortunate room.

A teleporter on the moon? Really? He had almost laughed himself into hysterics when he had first happened upon it. Yet when he climbed up on to the stone platform nothing had happened. Of course it wouldn't work. Veros was dead – his power gone with him. The hope that had briefly flared within Capell died away instantly. He was back at the beginning; trapped with no idea how to get home. The moon's vast palace became smaller and smaller to him – its strangely beautiful architecture dulling with every passing moment in his eyes. It might as well have been the prison cell where his strange journey had first started. He really saw no difference between the two.

Then sometime later, he wasn't certain how long it had been – days at least – he was playing Percipere to find a squirrel-mouse for his next meal, when he realized this was magic, too. Magic that worked without the moon god! Saruleus' flute still had power and it wasn't waning. Each tune he tried still worked and the mystic light still glowed whenever he played the correct notes.

This was it, he was sure of it. Maybe Sigmund really had been watching over him. Whatever force was at work, one thing was certain – it was time for Capell to write the most important song of his life.

He had no idea how long it had taken him to compose the song that would give power to the transporter once more. So many times he had thought of giving up, so many failed attempts had driven him to such frustration that he nearly snapped the instrument in two on several occasions. But always his promise kept him going back to the instrument and trying again. Marus Lunaris had the ability to drain the moon's power from others at the height of its influence – there had to be a song that could give power as well! And at last, when the platform suddenly flared brightly as he sat beside it working out the notes sometime much later, Capell knew at last that he had done it.

Standing once more on the teleporter he played the notes of his newest creation and blinked at the light that enveloped him. He was weightless; sightless, and an instant later he opened his eyes to find himself in the Cobasna Timberlands, the lush forest as beautiful as he remembered. The heady perfume of soil and vegetation assaulted his senses, smothering out the sterile scent of the lunar palace he had grown so accustomed to.

And this time Capell did laugh until he cried. He collapsed onto hands and knees on the soft, black soil and watched fat tears absorb into the ground as he lost control, laughing and crying in a bizarre reaction that would have certainly convinced any passersby that he was mad. But none of that mattered anymore.

It had worked.

XXXX

Vic was playing on his last nerve. The former thief had all the tact of a fisherman, and did nothing to hide the informality in public. Even now that Edward was fully equipped with Vic's most guarded secret – and the kid knew Edward had found out – Vic still taunted and goaded the dark man without mercy.

"Yeah, I know what time it is. I also know ya've got a mountain of reports to review," the familiar drawl hadn't lightened up since moving to Burguss with him two years ago, "and they've gotta be signed today."

"I can either review the reports or I can hold the audience," Edward growled and resisted the urge to throw the stack back at the smug face across the desk; "I don't have enough hours in the day for both."

"Then ya shouldn't waste time trainin' with yer sword all mornin'," Vic crossed thin arms and glowered, "ya'd have more time if ya gave it up. Kings don't go into battle, ya know." Edward's fists flexed on his knees. The limit had been reached.

"You know, you should make a proper appointment with the dress maker already, Victoria." Edward stood abruptly and rounded the desk towards the door without a backwards glance. Vic's face turned a bright scarlet but the heavy door shut behind the king, muffling the shrieking curses that followed his back. It was rare that he openly taunted the kid about that, but Vic had broken the unspoken rules. Trying to take Edward's sword from him was the same as prying Vic's secret into the opening. You just didn't do it. Though the giant blade wasn't constantly strapped to his back any longer, it was still as much a part of him as it had been during the days of the Force. It was his strength and connection to his past. Training in the mornings kept him connected to the man he had been, and couldn't afford to forget.

The audience was preferable to the stack of reports anyway. Holding court gave him a chance to talk with real people, not nobles. It kept him connected to the outside world, as living in a castle had left him feeling isolated lately. He used to walk the roads freely, coming and going as he – and the Force – pleased. Now he was a prisoner of his title, or so it sometimes felt. Still duty bound him to take the responsibility; it was the least he could do after all that had already been lost to this world. Edward marched smartly to the throne room and took his seat, waiting for the attendant to admit the first in the waiting line of petitioners.

Early afternoon stretched slowly into late afternoon and then evening; the line dwindling from what he could see whenever the doors opened. Only a few more petitioners would be allowed an audience before the day's session was ended. Edward dismissed the woman before him after hearing her petition and having it noted in the log as a request of merit. The attendant waiting until the record had been made and then admitted the next citizen. The invited man stepped forward and removed the wide-brimmed hat from his head.

A silly lopsided smile greeted the king and Edward's composure slipped away. That there had been two with the same face had been enough of a coincidence and it only made sense when they were found to be related. There was no way there could be a third…

The lost Liberator nodded his head in a bashful – seemingly apologetic – greeting.

"I kept my promise, Ed." Capell said with a self-conscious shrug. The gaped-mouth expression he was receiving from his best friend wasn't really the greeting he had hoped for.

"Ca-" Edward faltered on the name briefly, having spoken it so little lately, "Capell?!"

"Yeah," The man before the dais shifted uncomfortably and glanced at the floor – had his reappearance been as desired as he had hoped? Two words – something he had heard on his way to Port Zala – kept echoing in his mind and he found himself thinking that maybe there was no longer a place for him in this world, or in his friends' lives. "So… how's things?"

The awkwardness of the reunion was lost when Capell was solidly thumped on the back and then pulled into a brotherly embrace. Edward's laughter was deafening so close to Capell's ear, but the joy the dark man expressed was enough to draw out a wide and relieved smile from the Liberator.

"How did-" There were so many questions bouncing within his head Edward couldn't even choose which one to ask first. "When – I don't believe it! How is this possible?!"

Capell pulled the flute from his pack and tapped it to the side of his head. "Don't ask me how long it took to realize this was the answer to getting home. I'll never live it down if you find out."

"Wait – let me send for the others," Edward grinned widely. "They'll …" His thought trailed off as he peered pointedly behind Capell and then looked the young man in the eyes. "Where's Aya?"

"I… haven't been to see her yet." Capell admitted. Edward sobered and he released his friend slowly.

"She doesn't know you're here?" The red-eyed man shook his head.

"I…" Capell grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut. "Tell me how long, Ed. Was – was it really two years?"

So that was it. Edward sighed, his expression melted into one of understanding.

"You heard." It was as much a confirmation as if he had come out and said yes.

"The passengers on the ship from Kolton," Capell explained, "they were talking about the second anniversary of… of my loss. That the ceremony for it had been… geeze, Ed, did you guys really have to tell people that I died?"

"We never told anyone that you died," Edward defended, "but when we came back without you we had to tell the people what had happened. They needed to know why you were gone, and why the lunaglyphs and Aristos were fading. The general consensus was that you weren't coming back. The people decided to honor you. And Sigmund, of course." The king's eyes darkened with worry but his friend didn't notice.

Capell clutched his head in one hand and spun away, trying to piece together Edward's words in his head. Two years… and what happened to the Aristos?

"I'm back to not having a clue," he mumbled miserably. When this new life had started for him he hadn't even known Sigmund's name. Now after two years it was all foreign to him all over again.

"We'll catch you up," Edward promised; the offhandedness of the remark made it sound like it would be easy. "Capell," He added a little more gently, "nothing has changed, just so you know." The Liberator shook his head.

"Is that so, Your Majesty?" Capell asked pointedly but Edward placed a firm hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Not as far as you're concerned. Not with the people who care about you." That helped and Capell felt his nerves settle slightly.

"Thanks Ed."

"Now," the faint smile returned to the young king's face, "before you land us both in the hot water, I think you should go see Aya. You know the rule – you tell her first."

"Then the others." Capell finished with a small smile of his own. If nothing had changed as Edward promised, Capell was going to catch hell for breaking that rule again.

But if Edward was right, it would be worth it.

Capell turned but felt his shoulder caught up once more in that vise-like grip.

"Capell," the deep voice had that quiet quality that came on only when Edward spoke from the heart, "you have no idea how good it is to see you're back. Get Aya and come back quickly. I want to know everything; there's a lot of catching up that we need to do." A final nod and Capell left the castle and the city, hoping that Ed was right.

XXXX

Aya was tired. Dominica said it, everyone else saw it, but that didn't mean Aya had the right to slow down. At least not in her opinion. She had to be doing something right now. Anything – as long as it was productive. Sapran needed this renovation. A lot was going to be required of Fayel before its debt to the town was cleared. It wasn't until she realized her drive was taking Gina and the others down with her that she was forced to finally give in and take a break.

Plus working kept her mind busy. The less she was allowed to daydream the better. Her thoughts always trailed to what she had lost, though she knew that other matters should be far more pressing at the moment. But her admission on the moon had been partially right – saving the world just wasn't as important to her as it used to be. She kept at it, though, because the losses they had suffered would be meaningless otherwise.

It had taken weeks of conscious effort to break her habit of staring non-stop at the moon. As if she would be able to see him there. It was laughable. But just knowing where he was – seeing the prison that held him and knowing that this time she couldn't break him out – it gnawed at her and had frequently driven her into tears. Dominica had finally come out and, in her typical brash way, asked Aya why Capell had sacrificed his freedom for the woman he loved if she was just going to waste her life locked away in her rooms crying.

It hadn't erased the pain, but it had gotten her moving again.

Now, raising her arms high above her head in a bone-popping stretch, her eyes found their way back to that familiar site. The moon was much smaller in the sky than it used to be. Capell had done his job well.

Are you still up there? Can you see us down here? This is all because of you, Capell. We're alive because of you.

She refused to take any of the credit for the mission's success. She had not made the tremendous sacrifices others had given. Aya sighed and pulled her eyes form the moon before the sadness and darker thoughts could overtake her again.

It was nice to see children playing in Sapran again, she decided while watching a small group of boys play at the base of the hill in the distance. It reminded her that the world was still a good place, with good people who deserved a chance at a happy life. She even smiled in earnest at the sight. So few things were able to bring a true smile to her face lately; though she had perfected the art of the fake smile months ago.

And then Aya stopped breathing entirely. Two children were reaching up to a man in the distance. She could hear the faint sounds of their laughter and shouts mixed with something else.

The music of a flute.

She could live a thousand lifetimes and never forget the songs he had written – or their ridiculous names. He had played them for her whenever she had asked, or whenever he thought she needed to hear one.

She didn't hear herself whisper his name; didn't feel the hot tears on her cheeks.

And she didn't know she was running – not until she felt her arms fling out wide and heard the sound of her own voice crying out his name.

He turned, crimson eyes lighting up brightly as he accepted the weight of her body as it crashed into him full force. Her name on his lips was the sweetest sound she had ever heard. Those same lips found her forehead and she pulled his head down to drink greedily of his kiss. It was like taking that first breath of air after being under water just a little too long; hard, desperate, a little painful and something she had craved more than anything for too long. He groaned deep in his throat and his arms tightened around her. It was impossible for them to get too close, to hold each other too tightly.

It was a dream – it had to be! But she was determined to not wake up from this one – it was the most vivid dream yet. He tasted like Burguss Apples, as he had the first time they had kissed. His chest was firm against hers, his arms solid as they pulled her tightly to him. His breath on her face was warm and gentle. He was her paradise.

"I'm glad to see you too, Aya," he said at last with that guilty tone he often adopted when he apologized. He might as well have just said he was sorry then. "I made you a promise when you left, that I would come back. I didn't lie this time."

That's right – she had called him a liar the last time she had seen him, she remembered with a plunging feeling in her stomach. She had become so hysterical that Capell had actually slapped her. And worse, her last words to him had been her refusal to ever forgive him. No vows of endearment, no promise to see him again, only petty refusal to allow him to do what was in his heart.

No, the last time they had set eyes on each other had not gone well at all.

"Oh Capell, I'm so sorry!" She blurted. "I never meant to say those awful things."

"Yes you did," he smiled down at her, "you always mean everything you say. That's why I never have to worry about what you're thinking; you'll tell me if it's in your head. And even though I didn't lie out loud, I didn't correct everyone when they thought I was coming. I guess that does make me a liar."

"But you came back!" Aya crushed herself against his chest once more, afraid that by admitting he was back he would vanish into a puff of smoke. "You're really, really here, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I came back."

The boys at his side were whispering, pointing. Capell? Lord Capell – the Liberator?! The boy in light blue broke away, running for the village, shouting at the top of his lungs for his mother that Lord Capell was back. That he was kissing Emir Aya – so it had to be him!

Aya didn't hear the boy. She didn't see him run off. She only knew of the man in her arms; only heard his soft murmurs in her ear.

Sweet promises to stay with her for as long as she'd have him; to be hers and only hers for the rest of their lives if she'd allow it.

And at that moment Aya wished for nothing more than their immortality.

XXXX

Eugene stepped out of the coach, stopping himself from holding out a hand for Komachi – the Nightwhisper member would not have appreciated the gesture the way other women would. Edward strode down the path, grasping his friend's hand in greeting. Eugene beamed.

"Where is he?" The lack of proper greeting was not given a second thought. Edward understood their excitement completely.

"Fayel," the king replied, nodding to Komachi as well, "he left about a week ago to get Aya. I received a messenger pigeon yesterday – he'll be bringing her back here tomorrow."

"Back? He came here first?" The Prime Minister's question was met with a mischievous smile from the usually solemn man.

"Nerves," Edward answered. "My guess is these past few days were spent paying for making her wait." Komachi's cheeks reddened, though she kept her silence. Eugene chuckled both at the warrior woman's shy reaction and at Capell's 'distressful' situation.

"In that case, who are we to argue at being made to wait as well?"

Edward led his friends into the castle. "Vic is inside, Kiriya just returned from his trip yesterday. Genma stayed behind?" Komachi nodded.

"With my master, The Starseer and Her Excellency." Though no one would dare disturb the sleeping Aristos, Komachi had fretted so much about leaving Touma behind that Genma had agreed to remain in Halgita with them more for her sake than theirs. "He relays his warmest greetings to you and his sincere joy to Lord Capell at his return."

"Likewise," Edward waited as the guards opened the massive portal to the castle. "Balbagon and the kids are on their way back from guard duty in Cassandra – they picked Michelle up along the way, I guess."

"What was Michelle doing in Cassandra?" Eugene mused, but Edward only cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. "From the sound of Rico's message, I'd say getting into trouble." Eugene signed, familiar with the concept.

Edward's attendant rushed forward when the king entered – intent on taking charge of the guests and relieving Edward of hosting duties – until Edward brushed the man off. "The day I'm too busy for the Prime Minister of Halgita and the head of the Nightwhisperers is the day Burguss loses this king. If their rooms are ready then you're dismissed."

The drawing room had been prepared with tea and meat rolls, a friendly fire crackling in the fireplace. Vic was already at the finger food but gladly set it aside to greet old friends when they entered. Kiriya was standing at the windows, not really socially interactive, but a part of the group none the less. Yet once the greetings were complete his first words were the ones that had been deliberately avoided since Capell's return was discovered.

"So, how – and more to the point, when – are we going to tell him?"

"He already knows how long he's been gone." Vic answered absently, "he heard that on the ship from Kolton."

"That's not what I meant." The air in the room turned icy despite the fire on the hearth and the mild weather outside.

"Kiriya," Edward's warning growl was no longer to be taken lightly, "you will let him enjoy his homecoming first. Do you understand? Do not ruin this for him. We will tell him when the time is right."

"He's no fool, even if he does play the part." The fair-haired man pointed out. "How long do you think you can hide the truth from him? And what do you think his reaction will be if he finds out on his own?" Eugene shut his eyes and turned his head, Edward cursing softly through clenched teeth.

"He won't find out on his own," Vic spoke up in a way that made the kid not so child-like anymore, "he's never gonna be on his own. Not anymore. He's got us, and he always will."

"Well said, Vic," Eugene said softly. And though Edward knew Vic was right, Kiriya's words still hung in the air.

How long could they hide the truth from him?

And did they have any right to even try?

XXXX

A/N – I really need to thank metal-mako-dragon and the muse of which I borrowed (he-hee) for the sudden ability to write this story. There are so few I.U. stories out there and I hope this one helps to propagate the species. ;o) There were a few things in the game that were left a little too open in my opinion – so I've decided to fill in the gaps with my own ideas. Perhaps someone else will have a different idea and will write a story of their own. ;o)

Please let me know what you think – the next installment to come soon!