May 2010 edit: Ugh, the fact that we can't use double space hurts my eyes. So I went back to reupload the chapters for it to be easier to read, using dots (and makes more sense). And while I was at it, erased all my useless banter at the beginning/end of the chapters and the stupid flourishes I used at that time (my god...) as it was too distracting. Enjoy.
English is not my first or my second language, so forgive me if I make mistakes…
Summary: Bound to responsibilities, to orders, to his father and memories of a well too uncomfortable armor left in his wake, he sought refuge in the sky. The story of how six women influenced his life and followed him on the path of the Prodigal Son.
Path of the Prodigal Son
by Rinslet
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From their spilled blood did we see light and from their love did we know sanctity, for it is their nature to be our shield and sanctuary. May the mothers in Ivalice know that they are the true light that shines our world.
-Memoirs of Marquis Halim Ondore IV, pronounced upon the death of the late queen, her highness Amelia, wife of late King Raminas B'nargin Dalmasca.-
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Like how he would say to his company or to the rest of the damn nosy people who wished to know, the first woman that he ever cared for and ever loved was his mother. Any man that differed from that concept are simply fools or, according to him, not a man all. Or perhaps it was simply his own unique thing that singled him out from the others. Who knew?
Her name was Viola Cian Dante, a woman of poor constitution who refused to give in and liked to go on long walks around the city, much to her husband's distress. Before her marriage, she was a teacher at the Akademy. In his innocent eyes, she was the most beautiful, honest and gentle woman who had ever lived. How his father ever discovered her amidst this crowd of greedy fools, he knew naught. Every details of her physique were carefully sketched into his mind, from the length of her hair to the light dimples on her ivory cheeks. Her hands, he recalled, always carried the smell of mixed perfumes that she liked to compose in the morning in font of her vanity.
She showed her love and caring not in words but actions. She was a woman who spoke little, yet her presence alone could fill the silence and make it bearable.
As she watched him grow up, she knew that he was different from other kids. Where the others fell and cried, he stood back up and gritted his teeth, eyes shiningwith determination. She decided to take his education in her own hands. Aside from his usual classes, she would pull him into other teachings. Unlike the other parents, she would not limit his knowledge to only Archadian scholarship. Having a mind opened by wonderswas better than one closed by beliefs. In this city where knowledge was power, she would have her son become the strongest.
When he came back from school, she would call upon him to her study room and they would spend hours in there. She taught him about the sky, how to read the wind, the species of the birds, the depth of the oceans and many other mysteries. She was the kind of woman who would wake him up early just to let him see the sunrise or make him stand outside for longs hours at night just to count the stars. Proud, his father would sometimes engage his son in a long, adult conversation just to see the extent of his knowledge. His quick and wittyremarks sometimes surprised him, and Cidolfus Demen Bunansa had to let out a low chuckle, eyes beaming with pride. There was certainly something promisingin this lad.
Their son was the kind of boy who was always worried about his mother's health, so despite his popularityat the Akademy, he had made nary a friend for he simply had no time. Though being an Archadian gentry and living in Nilbasse, his family wasn't that rich. His father had only started to work in some sort of laboratory and his mother would soon quit the Akademy due to her faltering health. When his father rose to the rank of a researcher for the Archadian Empire, compensation to his great skills, the family grew prosper but thankfully the son didn't developed a haughty attitude (his mother was ever the more strict ) but like most boys, he was ambitious. Cidolfus was never the more proud when his son's interest reached his field of work. The boy would look into his father's blueprints about airships and towers for hours and even let out smart suggestions.
I have high hope for you, my son!
By the time he was fifteen, his father brought him to Balfonheim, the pirate's lair. The boy was confused, for he was taught by the Akademy not to mingle with pirates (not that their teachings was anything absolute, but still the one thing they got right was the smell). His father's answer was somewhat evasive and absent-minded. There was this item that he absolutely needed that could bring him there, wherever 'there' was…
He didn't press further.
While his father was negotiating with a pirate (completed with the 'arrrr' and 'garrr' which made the boy raised an eyebrow), the lad sat down on a crate and waited, a hand under his chin while the other rested on his leg. The pirates reminded him of chocobos, always runninghere and there with their cargos and spoils. Their world was supposed to be inferior, uncultured next to the citizens of real kingdoms, but the boy was amazed that their world was aliveand alwaysmoving. The great were respected for their feat; not the kind of respect that he saw back at the city where people would follow you around blindly and agree with everything you say, but the one that said that you were worthy, earning pats on the shoulders, having your head posted on a wanted board with your bountyraising and others clanking their heavy mugs with yours as a sign of brotherhood. Not that he despised the life he had, but the boy envied them.
Out of the corner of his eyes, something incredible caught his interest. It was a hume, a beautiful one at that. She was wearing a flamboyant red dress and walking casually alongside the stream of drooling pirates around. He could tell that she was older than him by a few years, but she didn't yet reach twenty. Unable to resist his male impulse (he was, after all, born with that between his legs so either his taste has changed or he be out of his blasted mind to not notice those), the boy stared directly at her voluptuous form, starting from her big bust to her well-rounded arse. When he managed to trail his eyes back to her face, he noticed that she was staring right at him.
Was it him, or did the temperature raised by a few degrees?
However, unlike the girls at the Akademy who were looking at him with adoration, this 'woman' was looking at him as if she was contemplating a wall. Her eyes on him didn't even last long before she settled them on something else.
Then she was gone and the magick of the moment along with it.
Before he even had the time to run out to look for her, his father tapped on his shoulder to let him know that they were leaving. The item in question hadn't arrived yet.
That meant that he could come here again to look for her.
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In the following weeks, Cidwould often send his son to Balfonheim to meet his marketer (the item must be quite important for his father to send him on constant errand, not that he minded though) while warning him to keep his identity concealed (were he to be kidnapped and returned for a ransom, the boy can't even imagine the ruin it would bring to his parents), and in secret he would look for the lady in the crowd and after seeing her he would discreetly follow her with his gaze before leaving, satisfied.
From the few observations he had, he learned three things about her: for one, her taste in clothing comes close to the Vieras, (if the two ever came across…); two, she was the type that caused uproar when entering a lieu without even knowing it. She wasn't the giddy type, being rather reclusive (a big oxymora, were he to look at her choice of garment that begged attention) but knew how to drive a man crazy when she felt like it (an evil temptress under control, he thought); and third, her standards were very high. Were he to try and claim her, he would have to rise above the rest of the men who followed her. He would have to become prestigious, prodigal. Have light shed on him instead of on others. Steal the spotlight from the others. In other words, be the leading man of the play.
On the day he finally brought back the item his father was waiting for, a Skystone, Cidolfus stayed late at his workplace and did so for the following days. His wife, who sometimes stayed up to wait for him, grew worried. Her son shrugged it off; his father often became enraptured by the new toys that he acquired (though this one was a stone…he couldn't even imagine the fun in it).
A few weeks later, his father announced that he was to leave for a few days, maybe even for weeks. Seeing her husband in a joyful state, his wife sighed in relief and wished him the best. She had thought that something was wrong, but her husband seemed fine. Cidolfus patted his son on the shoulder, apologizing in advance for missing his upcoming sixteenth birthday. His mind still revolving around his times in Balfonheim, his son nodded his head absentmindedly. Before leaving, Cid promised him that he would build an airship exclusively for his son. Without further ado, Cidolfus Demen Bunansa left his family, to journey to Jagd Difohr.
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With the father gone, it was the good son's duty to take care of his mother. But he was no good son, and pity that he was still young and craved excitement. He too, grew apart from his mother, instead spending his time loitering in the pirate's den.
Alone, she wept in silence, knowing far too well that she could not stop them both. Though she wanted to at the least keep her son, she saw that his eyes shined like never before when he tells her of his stories in Balfonheim; the same glint her husband has when she came numerous times to visit him at work. Whenever her son came back from his trip, she would keep smiling for his sake.
Eventually, her health falters until she was no more. Viola Cian Dante died with no male presence next to her deathbed, wanting to protect what she had worked so hard to preserve; their smile. Leaving them mourning over her would've betrayedthat.
Only her son and a few of her close friends were present at her funeral.
He remembered staying under the pouring rain for hours, refusing to move away from his mother. It wasn't until later, when he collapsed, were the servants able to carry him back.
Then time passed, and the boy almost reached seventeen when Cid did finally return. The man immediately locked himself in his room and didn't come out. Sometimes, at night, his son would hear him talk alone. He would often surprise his old man while he was talking and gesturing his hands around, as if he was in a deep conversation with someone while no one was next to him.
History is built by our hands!
How many times did he hear his father say that aloud? alone?
Thinking that perhaps his father's sorrow led him to this sorry state, the son resolved in stopping his selfishness and ceased his visit to Balfonheim. He then swore to try to make his sole parent happy by continuing his scholarship and perhaps also become an airship builder like him. However, Cid had other plans for him.
He was made a Judgeby his father. He partook of his old man's work, which developed without the Senate's knowledge, horrors that he'd rather forget.
How many people died because of the things he thought up?
He remembers walking in his armor, among the fire of yet another burned down village rumored to shelter insurgents.
He remembers blackened hands reaching out toward the sky and eyes completely devoid of life.
He remembers holding one of them in his gloved hands and pulling off its remnants, rubbing the soot off before pocketing them secretly: Rings and bracelets that shone brightly in many colors… like the life that once surrounded them… ended by his hands.
What have I done?
His father was jubilant; some even say he was enjoying his work more than anything. It lead to more madness, more late night work about something called the 'Nethicite'and he started making battleships and weapons for the Empire.
It didn't last long. I ran. I left the Judges…and him. I ran away. The Nethicite twisted him and he stopped being himself. I couldn't stand seeing him like that, a slave to the Stone. So I ran. I left, thinking that I had become free. Free at last.
With a nameless Archadian airship still in its experimental stage, he fled to Balfonheim, where he felt that the constant moving would soon drown him, and that the world would forgethim, forget that Cidolfus Deme Bunansa had a coward son. He gave up his name, his heritage…and his father. His mother however, never left his mind.
And so rose Balthier the Sky Pirate.
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Sometimes, he sees her in his dreams, her warm hand stroking his forehead and saying how proud she is, but her eyes were always somewhat sad. From this loss, he learns that women, no matter how strong they looked or pretended to be, are fragile creatures that came and went like the wind and a man wasn't really a man unless he knows how to take care of one and always make her feel cherished and happy. His conscience dares believe that at a certain point of his childhood, he really was a man, for he made the woman he loved happy but that had only lasted so long until another woman came into his life and it was suddenly too much for him, for the young him. Women craved attention and he had a feeling that if he didn't give them enough, they would wither, like his mother (but another one of his personal lesson says that giving them too much attention would also give him equal trouble. He quickly developed a motto of making women happy enough to give him a good time and not enough to weep for his departure. Love, but no ties.)
Surely, had he been manlier, he would've been able to manage to make all the women he frequented feel happy, but even he, with a silver tongue and charms of the Devil, leaves a few broken heart here and there. Women were by far the most complex creatures he came across with. Even after years of experience, he admits that sometimes their nature would elude him, and he would find himself remembering his old self in a cradle; the moment he opened his eyes for the first time to see the face of Viola and reliving those blissful years where he discovers all over again who his mother was.
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Chapter I, Mother, End