This wasn't a fleeting glimpse like the others... this was closer to those wayward trips on the elevator. He could see every crack in the stone, hear every footstep, smell the stain on the wood and mold on the stone... and feel the chill running through his bones. And, like those trips to the misty fourth floor, he was not alone... though it took him a moment to realize they were a part of the memory. Seeing the lady knight with the braid at his side only affirmed it.
The place could have passed for a temple with its decor; gold banisters, red carpet, and what could only be a symbol of sanctimony standing proudly beyond a stone altar. A fine place for worship, but its stone walls and reinforcement showed a more martial purpose in mind. Of more concern, however, was the finely-robed man of cloth who stood before them. Aged, regal... but somehow, unspeakably sinister, perhaps by the cold stare on his face. Reed and his troupe stopped before him.
"I see Gaffgarion's sword was no match for his words. Then again, perhaps the fault lies with his adversary. Beoulve blood is not given to spill easily. Even when thinned with that of a courtesan, it would seem." Slowly- all too calmly- he strode to the front of the altar. "But enough is enough. Your intrusions overstay their welcome. Leave the auracite, and then leave Lionel. A generous offer, and my last."
Reed's grip tightened across his sword. His anger swelled. His words dripped with resentment. "Where is Lady Ovelia?"
But this man- Reed was sure this had to be the 'Cardinal' he'd heard of before, the way the two of them made words- paid no heed to Reed's venom. "You mean to free her? What then? You've turned your back on your house. A man cannot prosecute a war alone. Forget this bootless struggle." His features took on a malicious grin. "Think you mere -will- enough to see you victorious? Even will needs force, and you have none."
"Tell me where the princess is!" Reed shouted, though he stayed his hand. At his sides, his allies readied themselves similarly.
"Gone to Zeltennia." The cardinal spoke matter-of-factly, almost boredly in spite of the heated atmosphere. "Her Highness has chosen to accept our hand in aid over yours."
Reed could feel his eyes narrowing. "...You lie."
But, alas, the holy man kept pontificating. "Her Highness has taken her first step toward the throne. But she will need a steady hand to guide her, and yours falters. Who better, then, than us to stand at her side? She saw this - why not you? There's no reason you should not join us as well." His demeanor even took on a warmer, softer tone. A well-rehearsed one, Reed imagined. "The thought of besting your brothers holds no allure? We care no less for this world's fate than you. Together we can change Ivalice for the better."
And Reed was undeterred. "I have no wish to change the world. But nor can I stand by while men suffer and die on the whim of some select few. Do you truly believe you can change the world? Not even I am so naive as that."
And somewhere- as a spectator within his own memory- Reed felt a bittersweet little pang in his heart at his own words. Alas, it did not last once the Cardinal broke into laughter.
"Ha ha! Nescient humility from one possessed of such an artefact. That Stone you hold can twist the very weave of nature, to say nothing of the world. Yet I fear my words are wasted on you..." Perhaps it was his imagination, or some fluke of his own recollection. But the air chilled, the sky seemed to grow darker. And that sickening grin only spread wider. "Actions speak louder, yes...?"
The Cardinal reached into his robes and withdrew a small, red stone, glinting in spite of the pale light... a shimmer from within. And it soon grew... bathing the entire room in red. A swirling miasma of red swept across the room, taking with it baleful cries from some wretched beyond... and, when the maelstrom hit its peak, lightning struck within its eye.
When the flash had cleared, the Cardinal was no more... or, at least, no longer anything close to human. Flesh sagged bloated off of his body, haphazardly stitched together like some sort of gluttonous doll- straight out of a nightmare, with cold, dead eyes and twisted teeth. As a viewer, he stoked the flames of anger within Reed's heart... as a participant in his memory, however, his blood was chilled, and the rest of his men joined him in his horror.
"You take no pains to hide your wonderment. How I shall delight to watch you die." That disgusting grin spread not only across the demon's face, but soon was recreated across its distended stomach. "Each excruciation ecstasy!"
Slowly, Reed drew his sword. He charged forward. The memory was over.