Alright, this is my first time writing a fanfic, so please, be patient with me. I've had this idea for a while, and decided to do something about it now.... Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I love positive feedback, so feel free to review, I don't mind. Sorry, if there are any inconsistencies with the game; I haven't played in quite some time. Anyway, I'm done rambling now, so please, read on!
Chapter 1- Rabanastre Once Again
Vaan knew as he walked the busy streets of Rabanastre that lazy summer day that he was close to answers. He'd been looking for what he sensed was so near for quite some time; for nearly three long, painful years of sorrow and regret. There was, even now, no way to be sure that who he sought out could give him answers. But for some reason, a feeling deep in his gut told him that this was the way to go. He had to persevere. He had to continue. He needed to know what the man could tell him, if anything at all.
This hadn't been the way he wanted to spend his visit to his hometown. He hadn't wanted to revisit this part of his past, but the nagging sensation in his mind had forced him to. And now that he was determined, there was no going back. Vaan; who had become what he always wanted to be, a sky pirate, and at the young age of 18 too; couldn't deny the tender feelings his past inspired in his troubled mind. And so, here he was. Traveling the streets of his boyhood days, looking for answers to a long-unsolved mystery.
Penelo had asked to come with him, as she was visiting Rabanastre too, but Vaan had shrugged her off. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the thought; that wasn't true, he did. In fact, Vaan wouldn't mind spending every moment with Penelo. They had been friends for such a long time, and had been through so many adventures together. She was practically the only family that he had left. But, now that they were visiting Rabanastre, emotion had overtook Vaan. And that was the one thing that could change Vaan almost instantaneously; his emotions.
If it had been anything else, he wouldn't have minded her coming. But this was different. It wasn't her quest; it was his. And he had to complete it without her help. He didn't mind if she was there with him after it was over. But for right now, Vaan needed to seek this knowledge by himself.
Continuing his steady pace in the humid air among the sweaty, grouchy customers and shop owners, Vaan couldn't help but laugh at himself in his head. He had never been so serious in his life. His boyhood years had been spent scampering about the capital city, stealing change purses from the obnoxious rich wandering the streets, and bringing it back home so his family could afford supper. It had always been an adventure for him, a way he could run around and get a thrill from doing what he knew to be a crime. He ran his fingers through his light blonde hair as he continued down the streets, thinking of the fun he had had way back then.
But it wasn't as though it wasn't necessary for him to steal. Vaan could remember many times when his family wouldn't have eaten if it hadn't been for a generous "donation" from a foreigner touring Dalmasca. His family was never well off, even before the plague took the lives of his parents.
Interestinly enough to Vaan, his parents never found out how he got the money. They were good people, as it was; if they had known, the Gil would have been returned, and Vaan reprimanded. But for some reason, they never knew.
Reks always knew. He could always tell from the glint of excitement in his younger brother's eyes. The elder would scowl and scold at first, but, inevitably, Reks would always smile and ruffle Vaan's hair. Vaan always assumed that it must have been Rek's doing that he never got caught. He must have told them that he himself had earned the money doing odd jobs for shopkeepers like Migelo. Which was, at least, partially true, as when their parents became sick, Reks was the one who brought in most of the money. While their parents rarely trusted the mischievous imp Vaan, mature Reks always seemed to tell them the truth.
A knot formed in Vaan's throat as he reminisced, almost making him stop his trek through hot Rabanastre, but he quickly shook it away. There were times for that; now was not one of them. He was on a mission, and he had to keep telling himself that.
He quickened his pace as he entered South Gate. He knew Rabanastre from every shop to every doorway, but this end was one he felt specially connected to. To the South, he would find the nomads' Giza camp, where sunstones could be made. The heat from the vast bareness of the Giza Plains could be felt upon entering South Gate, and Vaan thought fondly of how he sometimes adventured the plains with his brother when they were young children. He could recall many times when they would wander out, only to be chased back to town by wolves. Sure, they would scream and be terrified at first, but by the time they ended up back at the gate, they would be laughing, and, out of breath, would walk back to their home, red in the face and sweaty, but content. But Vaan didn't have time to get lost in his thoughts. He quickly shook his memories away as he had before. He was at South Gate for one reason, and that was not to remember his past: it was to get to Lowtown.
Sharply turning left as he came forward, he found himself face to face with the large door leading to Lowtown, and all of its spoils. Vaan had always loved the place.
Reks always told him to be careful when going down there. "Old Dalan is a sly fellow, Vaan. He'll get you into trouble one of these days." Vaan rarely paid attention to Reks's request, as Reks often went down to Lowtown himself to talk to friends. But, then again, Reks had always tried to keep Vaan out of trouble, whether it was by warning him not to go into the sewers, or by trying to prevent him from wandering out into the Westerlands. This always ended with little success on Rek's part.
Vaan hit a few keys on the door, and the potal opened wide, thrusting Vaan's vision into the dim light. Stepping though and allowing the gate to shut behind him, Vaan stood for a moment, permitting his sight to adjust to the sudden change of light. The smell of Lowtown was as it always was; musty, and filled with the scent of many people. Regaining his sight gradually, he proceeded forward, kicking up a soft layer of dust from the path he walked on. Turning once more left, he found himself at the door of Old Dalan's place, one of Vaan's regular haunts. It didn't matter what his brother had said; Old Dalan helped the city orphans out regularly, and since Vaan had been alone for three and a half years now, he had no reason not to ask for the strange man's assistance this time.
"Irony," Vaan mumbled to himself as he placed his hand on the door, and let himself in.