Azimov sat on the steps of a nameless place in the city of Dorter, it was many years after the reign of Delita, and now new problems had risen in the land of Lionel. He was waiting for his commanding officer and personal trainer, Syrus Orsiny to arrive but it seemed to be taking an eternity. Azimov sat still thinking of his parents. Finally Syrus arrived, walking down the dusty streets holding a few potions and a strange sculpture in a bag over his back.
"Your late again sir" Azimov smugly commented.
"Well what are you going to do about it, you puny little squire? I didn't become a heavenly knight to baby-sit brats like you so if you want to add another kill to my record I would be happy to take your offer..." He said with a glint in his eye.
Azimov despised his captain fiercely. Although a very powerful knight and soldier, Syrus was quite the opposite of noble and good. He worked his way up through the ranks of Lionel's corrupt politics by killing whomever he pleased and threatening whoever dared to defy him. Azimov remembered being ordered to kill a women and child because of his Syrus superiority. Ever since the second that crimson blood drowned Azimov's sinless hands, he hated his captain. Although he couldn't help but feel that the killing was right.
They walked down the streets of Dorter's slums, littered with the homeless, jobless, and the Grifters. Azimov eyed the people with amazement, sticking close to person he distrusted the most ironically. They walked into a random shop it seemed and ended up buying weapons for Azimov to fight with. He looked puzzled.
Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to own FFT, I dont, get it? Good ¬¬
Authors Note: First Chapter, First Story, go crazy on the flaming
"But sir, I'm still a squire, why are you buying me long blades such as the ones you use?" Azimov asked
"As of today you will take the step into knighthood, I'm surprised to say. You know all the necessary skills to become a knight, and have excelled in your self healing abilities. Thus I am bestowing upon you a gift, and a burden. Knighthood.
Just then, a small child bumped into them, seemingly drunken. He stumbled off in a daze smiling and trying to express his sympathy and sorry without words. Azimov sighed gently as he felt a small weight lifted from his belt. When will the children of dorter learn that knights and nobles are not so easily pick pocketed? Though they may seem so. While he prepared to pursue the boy Syrus began thinking something different.
"Hey you there, child, stop!" Azimov yelled over a crowd to the child. He looked back and stuck out his tongue as he darted down an alley. Azimov ran down the one parallel and cut him off with a smug look on his face.
"Now give me back my gil and I might spare you a good scolding from your mother."
Within an instant of that sentence, Syrus revealed himself on an upper platform of the towering buildings above, and drew his bow. Before Azimov could react Syrus shot the small boy three times; twice in his right leg and once in his left arm, leaving him helpless and bleeding.
"Kill him now Azimov!" Syrus said with a grin. "Or you'll be a second casualty after him!"
Azimov felt a crossroads in his heart as he lifted his blade. He looked into the boys fear ridden eyes, and saw the gold coins, dropped on the brick road under their feet. No harm was done, they had their money and the boy had his life...
But something tempted him.
He brought the blade down on the helpless child's neck with a swiping motion, and let an evil grin spread across his face as he felt the blood spatter onto his face, he licked the blood off of his sword, and sheathed it after mutilating the body beyond recognition, and kicking it into a group of rabid dogs.
He thought of the face of the boy's mother and laughed cruelly while turning away from the carnage.
"Your late again sir" Azimov smugly commented.
"Well what are you going to do about it, you puny little squire? I didn't become a heavenly knight to baby-sit brats like you so if you want to add another kill to my record I would be happy to take your offer..." He said with a glint in his eye.
Azimov despised his captain fiercely. Although a very powerful knight and soldier, Syrus was quite the opposite of noble and good. He worked his way up through the ranks of Lionel's corrupt politics by killing whomever he pleased and threatening whoever dared to defy him. Azimov remembered being ordered to kill a women and child because of his Syrus superiority. Ever since the second that crimson blood drowned Azimov's sinless hands, he hated his captain. Although he couldn't help but feel that the killing was right.
They walked down the streets of Dorter's slums, littered with the homeless, jobless, and the Grifters. Azimov eyed the people with amazement, sticking close to person he distrusted the most ironically. They walked into a random shop it seemed and ended up buying weapons for Azimov to fight with. He looked puzzled.
Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to own FFT, I dont, get it? Good ¬¬
Authors Note: First Chapter, First Story, go crazy on the flaming
"But sir, I'm still a squire, why are you buying me long blades such as the ones you use?" Azimov asked
"As of today you will take the step into knighthood, I'm surprised to say. You know all the necessary skills to become a knight, and have excelled in your self healing abilities. Thus I am bestowing upon you a gift, and a burden. Knighthood.
Just then, a small child bumped into them, seemingly drunken. He stumbled off in a daze smiling and trying to express his sympathy and sorry without words. Azimov sighed gently as he felt a small weight lifted from his belt. When will the children of dorter learn that knights and nobles are not so easily pick pocketed? Though they may seem so. While he prepared to pursue the boy Syrus began thinking something different.
"Hey you there, child, stop!" Azimov yelled over a crowd to the child. He looked back and stuck out his tongue as he darted down an alley. Azimov ran down the one parallel and cut him off with a smug look on his face.
"Now give me back my gil and I might spare you a good scolding from your mother."
Within an instant of that sentence, Syrus revealed himself on an upper platform of the towering buildings above, and drew his bow. Before Azimov could react Syrus shot the small boy three times; twice in his right leg and once in his left arm, leaving him helpless and bleeding.
"Kill him now Azimov!" Syrus said with a grin. "Or you'll be a second casualty after him!"
Azimov felt a crossroads in his heart as he lifted his blade. He looked into the boys fear ridden eyes, and saw the gold coins, dropped on the brick road under their feet. No harm was done, they had their money and the boy had his life...
But something tempted him.
He brought the blade down on the helpless child's neck with a swiping motion, and let an evil grin spread across his face as he felt the blood spatter onto his face, he licked the blood off of his sword, and sheathed it after mutilating the body beyond recognition, and kicking it into a group of rabid dogs.
He thought of the face of the boy's mother and laughed cruelly while turning away from the carnage.