What if....
Askier had gone to the truce meeting with Kahn'a, Kanaria and Osric...
intent on setting the bomb off instead of working with them?
The miqo'te's one, good, golden eye blinked as it dilated, an eye patch covering his left, ruined optic. His brown hair was slicked back and his coat hung tight to his body. The Garlean flexed both of this hands, scars and cuts covering them both from all the fighting he had done with them as of late.
A flask of whiskey was neatly tucked inside his coat pocket, resting beside a longer, heavier metal object. Something he had picked up from Jin'li not hours before.Â
Askier took another step into the Arrzaneth Ossuary and gazed around, sniffing the hair. The first scent he caught was the odor of whiskey on his breath. The second was hints of cerelium on his coat, a residue left over from his final alterations to his bomb, which now churned and spun, somewhere hidden deep inside the city. Askier felt his stomach knot. He knew what was going to happen to all the innocent people, how so many would die in an instant.Â
Kanaria had almost used that feeling against. She had convinced him to come to this meeting so that they could work out truce. Askier had agreed. But he had changed his mind. He wasn't about to rely on other people to help him now, especially his enemies! Not after he had done so much on his own. Raven and Delial were the only allies he needed. And he had already sent letters to them both telling them to get out of town. The bomb would go off, Ul'dah would vanish, and Saravena, his beloved little sister, would be free at last.
Askier sniffed the air then and caught the whiff of the female hyur nearby. Askier had to hide his growl.
She was a mole. He had figured out she wasn't on his side, but Kahn'a, that pathetic excuse for a Flame. That stupid kit and his bow.
The Garlean strode across the room to the side wall, lined with book shelves. There they were. All three of them.Â
"Being late has it advantages." Askier mouthed to himself as he smiled arrogantly. His right hand flexing. He had deliberately waited, giving them time to all gather. Osric, Kahn'a, Kanaria.Â
Osric and Kanaria sat at the table while Kahn'a stood against the wall. They all fixed him with their eyes as he approached, the tension evident in their faces. Except Osric's. That hyru wore that stupid mask again. Always that stupid mask. Askier flashed a wicked grin at him.
"How's the knee?" Askier jeered at Osric, recalling the fight where he had shattered the man's joint. The mouth beneath the mask scowled and Askier straightened. He knew he had the control at that moment. Having a bomb ticking on a timer made him akin to a god.
"You're late."Â Osirc replied sternly.
"Askier." Kanaria said softly, standing. She fixed him with her lavender eyes. It was obvious she was trying to defuse the situation. Askier's expression hardened at her. She had promised Askier that Kahn'a would be dead after he had left him in the street once Raven had finished torturing him. She was a mole. No mercy.
"Just keep your pretty little mouth shut, alright, Kanaria?" Askier spat motioning with his head at Kahn'a. "I get whom you're loyal to."
There was an awkward pause and Kahn'a gave a feral growl. Askier laughed.
"Why don't you learn to fight before you growl little kit. You don't scare me. But I know I scare you." Askier snapped his teeth, but Kahn'a didn't back down. The kit was growing bolder, Askier realized.
"You here to make this truce or insult us?" Osric asked, leaning back in his chair. Askier fixed the hyur with his one, golden eye and shook his head as he opened the front of his coat and reached underneath. He noted everyone tense.
"Naw, the bomb is going off. No truce." Askier then slide the gunblade he had taken from Jin'li free and leveled it at Osric. The gun erupted in a plum of fire as the projectile slammed into the hyur and sent him flying backwards as a fount of blood rose from his chest.Â
Kahn'a reacted quickly, slinging the bow off his shoulder and knocking an arrow with surprising speed. To bad Askier could simple point, pull, and shoot. Kahn'a's leather armor did nothing to stop the bullet as it tore into his abdomen.
The Garlean then swung his weapon around and aimed it at Kanaria.
"Askier!" Kanaria shrieked in horror, tears coming to her eyes. "What are you doing? This isn't what we talked about!"
"No, but you aren't who I thought you were, traitor."Â Askier snarled as his face flushed in anger.Â
Askier fired, his face a mask of rage as she recoiled, slamming into the bookshelf and sliding down, gasping in pain. The Garlean was about to turn when a poorly aimed arrow whizzed past his head. Askier turned as Kahn'a knelt on the floor in a pool of his own blood, trying to aim another arrow. Askier studied the younger miqo'te as he aimed his firearm at the wounded man.
"Kahn'a." Askier said lazily as he pulled the hammer back on his gunblade. His one good eye ran over Kahn'a face and Askier licked his lips. "You're finally acting like a man." Askier pulled the trigger and Kahn'a jerked back. Askier turned and started walking, tossing the weapon aside as he reached into his coat and began pulling out grenades and tossing them about as several thaumaturges rushed around the pillars. The explosions shook the building and the blasts echoed around the massive chamber. Another grenade flew towards the door and blew the might doors from their hinges. Smoke and fire broiled as Askier tossed three smoke grenades out the front door, filling the street with thick, chalky smoke.   Askier began to sprint as he heard Brass Blade whistles. The Garlean slipped away in the smoke down an alley.
Askier smiled in the shadows as he kept walking, taking a sip from his flask. He had won. Erik Mynheir was gone, his three greatest threats had just been killed, and his bomb was hidden. His sister would be free.Â
*Six Days Later*
Ul'dah was gone. Nothing more than a smoking crater. The blast had been glorious. The most beautiful explosion Askier had ever crafted. Askier reaclled how he had watched it from a hill well outside the blast radius. Blue it had been and a dome of pure, cerelium energy released at a precise moment.Â
As Askier had traveled north to Fallgourd Float, he had heard nothing but rumors and fears. No mention of his name, of course, but it didn't matter. Terror had been sown and despite the mass genocide he had just committed, Askier was impressed with his skill.
The drunk miqo'te stumbled into the inn at Fallgourd Float, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He staggered towards a table as he took another swig of the bottle, trying to drown his conscious that kept trying to rise up and make him feel remorse. Askier collapsed in the chair as the miqo'te with white hair lifted his head from the book he had been reading and gave a bow.
"Master Mergrey." Jin'li said flatly, expressionless as always. "This humble slave is most impressed by the commitment you have shown to your family."
"Where's Saravena?" Askier slurred as he glared hatefully at the Jin'li.Â
"Upstairs, asleep in the usual room."Â the eunuch explained calmly.Â
"I have your word she is alive and well."Â
"This slave is not offended. Is a rational thought. You have this slave's word she is well, simply sleeping on a drug we gave her. She will awake soon."
"Good."Â Askier growled as he rose to his to feet and reached into his coat.
"Master Adin wishes to speak with you, Master Mergrey." Jin'li said as he watched Askier.
Askier said nothing. He simply walked over to the runt and shoved a knife into his throat. Jin'li blinked in surprise and fell to the floor as blood filled his lungs and began to drown him. Askier disappeared up the stairs as the bartender stared in horror.
A few minutes later, Askier left the inn, everyone inside giving him a wide berth as he carried his sister to Drumstick and gently slid her into the saddle. He slipped up behind her and took the reigns of his chocobo in one hand as he hugged his sister tightly too him with the other as he cried.
Two years. It had been two years since he had held her. Since she had been free. Two years, and a list of sins even demons would hesitate to commit. Tears rolled down Askier's cheeks as they rode off, their destination uncertain. She was free. That's all that mattered.
