Humans and demihumans alike filled the stadium, most ragged and unwashed, with a few upper-class citizens, and even the odd noble lord. Though the upper-class citizens of Treno tended to look down their noses on the city's many thugs, all prejudice was left at the door when a game of cards was to be played in the stadium. While friends jeered and slapped players on the back, anyone who was playing was wholly fixated on his match; the amateurs focusing on the hand they held and working out how it could possibly fit onto the board before them, while the more experienced players sat studying their opponents' facial expressions. Veterans knew to keep calm, reveal nothing, but amateurs could, and usually did, give everything away to a more experienced opponent by nothing more than the twitching of a few facial muscles.
At one particular table, a middle-aged plump man sat facing a young demihuman with the appearance of a boar. Three other men stood behind the human, one telling a story that nobody seemed to be paying any attention to.
"You should have seen him!" the man said. "The guy chased me all over town. I hid behind the item shop for almost half an hour! By the time I left Dali, it was almost dark!"
He was the kind of character whom you see in every crowd, self-indulgent, feeling that every single thing that happened to him that was out of the ordinary in even the slightest way was worth telling to all of his friends, and interrupting even a card game to tell them. This particular one was a plump fellow, not unlike his chum at the table, with sweat on his forehead matting his hair and giving it an altogether greasy appearance, rambling on and on and gesticulating as much as he could. The two men behind him were rather imperturbable to his tale, standing with their arms crossed as if bodyguards to the card players.
"Friss, pay attention!" The fellow bade his companion at the card table. When it became apparent that Friss was paying no heed to him, he started towards him, only to be grabbed at the wrist by one of the bodyguard-like men behind him, prompting a wheezy chuckle by the boaresque demihuman.
Having been watching the proceedings with one eye, Emmond Sil, a young human seated across the room, gave a chuckle of his own.
This prompted his opponent to raise an eyebrow. "Not quite ready?" He asked.
"No, no," Emmond replied. It's just --- never mind." He mentally cursed himself for letting his attention slip. He was always making amateur mistakes.
His opponent had just laid a Cerberus card in between two blocks on the mat. If Emmond were to attempt to win the card via the only available place next to it, it would result in a card battle. Should he risk it, or play it safe? The Cerberus card, from Emmond's experiences, was usually one with high attack and defense. If he were to concentrate on defending, his opponent could take an early 3-0 advantage. But then again, depending on which card he laid, Emmond could win two cards on his next move. If he were to attack and win, his opponent could just as easily win both cards back. However, if he were to attack and lose, it would be just as bad, if not worse.
All of the possibilities swam around Emmond's head at high speeds, too quickly for him to keep track of them all. What cards did his opponent have again? Would it hurt to give them another look over? His opponent might think nothing of it, but it could also reveal Emmond's strategy. He knew that his facial expression could be his undoing. Maybe just a quick glance…
Emmond's opponent was young, younger than even him --- barely in his teenage years, if even. He had dark brown hair, slicked up with some sort of hair pollen, and was rather shabbily dressed. His expression was completely blank, and Emmond knew that he had been studying Emmond's face the entire game. He was beginning to regret having challenged him --- he had looked young, inexperienced, but now Emmond knew just how false an assumption that had been.
Bringing his thoughts back to the task at hand, Emmond wondered if an attack would bring forth a counterattack, winning both cards on the mat. He was leaning towards defense --- risked a quick glance at his opponent's cards --- and didn't change his decision. He was going to defend. A quick glance over his own cards caused him to lay a Carrion Worm card in defense, which was taken via a card battle mere seconds after being laid.
The shabbily-dressed boy was good, and had even used a Mythril Sword Card. Emmond was impressed, but worried at the same time, trying desperately to think of a new strategy to take back the game.
It didn't help that the chubby man several tables over had forgotten his previous warning and was ranting about his trip from Dali again. "These little plant thingies were throwing chestnuts at me!" Seemed to be his new subject of interest.
Emmond closed his eyes and squeezed his hands together under the table. Hopefully the man's friends would shut him up again. Right now, Emmond needed to concentrate more than ever.
"So then I---" the man began. "Ow! What the 'eck did ya kick me for?"
Emmond smiled, but quickly killed it, realizing that his opponent was still studying his face. This young boy of no more than twelve, keeping the coolest of a vibe --- how on Gaia did he remain so calm? Emmond was practically sweating, and the littlest of distractions were making him even more nervous. Plus, he had directed his thoughts away from the game again --- a rookie mistake he was frequently making.
The game continued, and Emmond's luck finally turned when his opponent laid a Two Moons Card on his penultimate turn, allowing Emmond, with his final card, to win three. A big smile made its way over his face.
i'Fool!' /i A voice told him. i''Don't let him see you smile! We've been over this!'/i
i''Oh, do shut up,'/i another voice piped in. i''You've won this game. Who cares if you're happy about it? Keep smiling.'/i
Emmond agreed with the latter voice, and heaved a sigh of relief. But before he was finished breathing out, his opponent had laid a Troll Card, winning three of Emmond's cards with a combo. Emmond's jaw dropped several inches, and the next few thoughts that went through his head were something like:
i''The Troll ---'/i
i''Its attack power---'/i
i''How---'/i
i''Ah, nuts.'/i
Now that the game was over, the ratty, young brunette was all smiles. "Good game," he commented, reaching across the table to shake Emmond's hand.
Still shocked, Emmond accepted the shake. "I didn't see that coming at all," he admitted.
"I'm just glad that it worked to my advantage," came the reply.
But in truth, it hadn't been luck at all on the part of the brown-haired victor. As soon as the game had started, he had surveyed Emmond's cards, worked out as many possibilities as he could, and which of those possibilities would play out based on Emmond's facial expressions. He had known that his Two Moons card would lose three, only to be won back by his troll. But alas, Emmond didn't know this, and we shall return to his perspective.
"So where'd you get that Mithril Sword Card?" Emmond asked, hoping to strike up a conversation, and perhaps learn more about how to be victorious in the game of cards. "Somewhere in Treno?"
"Actually, I got it from an Alexandrian soldier," the boy replied with a shrug, looking as if he were bored of the conversation already.
"Oh?" Emmond asked. "I thought that they weren't allowed to play cards. I tried challenging a few when they were here last month!"
"Really?" The boy seemed to be interested now. "Why were they here?"
"Well, uh, you know those Treno guards that are always guarding the entrance to the city?"
The boy gave a delighted-sounding laugh. "Guards?…" He asked with a wry smile.
It was true, Emmond knew, they really just stood there staring at the ground, reveling in their self-pity, while anyone and everyone could enter Treno.
"A whole bunch of warriors from Lindblum came following the Festival of the Hunt. They do every year. Anyway, the Treno guards needed help keeping the peace those few days. Boy, can those warriors get rowdy."
"Ah. I hail from Lindblum, and I came here following last year's Festival. We sure caused havoc then…" A look of longing seemed to cross the boy's face.
"You competed in the Festival? But you're just a young boy!" Emmond was surprised, to say the least.
"Why let that get in the way?" The boy grinned. "By the way, I have friends in high places. The Alexandrian soldiers know me."
Emmond nodded. "Anyway, when are you competing in the next round? I wouldn't mind watching."
"Actually," the boy began, "I should get home before my father realizes I'm gone."
"Ah, snuck out, eh? Well, it makes sense. Who would let their ten year old son come to Treno to play cards?"
"I'm twelve, thank you. Anyway, it's been nice playing cards with you Mr. Sil." The boy gathered his cards into an impressive looking leather couch, stood up from the table, and began walking away.
"Wait!" Emmond called after him. "I didn't catch your name!"
"It's Cid." The boy turned around and gave Emmond a thumbs-up, accompanied by a grin from ear to ear.
Emmond stared after him with a puzzled expression, before shrugging and beginning to gather his cards. It was several seconds before a thought struck him. A twelve year old Cid… from Lindblum… "Hey!" He called after Cid. "You're not---"
Cid turned towards Emmond and put a finger to his mouth, then turned back and resumed walking away.
Emmond gaped at him, even long after Cid had exited the stadium. He couldn't believe that he had just played the son of the Regent of Lindblum in cards. He was of common folk --- what was a Regent's Son doing in a place like this, with ihim/i
One of the bodyguard-like men from Friss's table was suddenly beside him. "So you played Cid, eh? How badly did he trounce you?"
Emmond turned to regard him. "You mean he comes here often?"
The guard nodded with a grin.
Emmond merely shook his head, still dumbfounded at the events of the last few minutes. He sure hadn't acted like the son of a Regent.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The hot sun of Gaia beat down on the plains of the Forgotten Continent. A continent full of desert plains and red canyons, it was host to a large number of reptiles and other sun-loving creatures, speeding across the sands in search of prey, and home to very little vegetation. Most, if any, was man-made, such as the forests that lined the canyon containing Ipsen's Castle and Ipsen City. Deep into the ground, a Berkmea Cable Car whizzed across the canyon floor, not unlike the desert creatures above.
And though the forests made very impressive scenery to the passengers of the Cable Car, Marelda Greysto, a young Burmecian, chose instead to regard the sky.
Marelda knew not to take the sun for granted. Her parents, and many others she knew had all grown up with mist covering the sky. Even when it had ceased, thirteen years ago, when she had been just four years of age, she had still grown up in rainy Burmecia. It rained in Burmecia so often, that Marelda would always cherish the days when she could look up at the sky. As a girl, whenever she had dreamed, she would draw inspiration from the sky. So clear, so beautiful…
The mist hadn't covered the Forgotten Continent, but only the Mist Continent to the east, where she had grown up. For generations, no one had questioned the mist --- it had been accepted as just being there, and had powered airships, cable cars, and other machines. Its disappearance had been taken as both a blessing and a curse, as new steam-powered inventions had to be engineered, and yet it had felt as if a layer of oppression had been lifted from over their heads, allowing them to finally see the beautiful sky. Well, Marelda thought that it was beautiful, in any case.
"Drink?" a voice interrupted her from her daydream. Marelda turned to see an attendant holding a drink tray, and accepted a glass of water, turning back to look lazily out the window and sighing. After a moment, however, she turned back to the aisle and saw a man staring at her. He was human, and looked to be a good six, seven years older than Marelda. His black hair protruded slightly from both sides of his head, and he had a solemn expression on his face. As soon as she glanced up at him, his eyes darted downwards.
Marelda certainly found this odd. Was he interested in her? It wasn't typical for humans to have an attraction to a Burmecian, or any demihuman, for that matter. So perhaps he recognized her? If so, the feeling sure wasn't mutual. She had quite the memory, and this guy wasn't registering.
One thing was for sure --- she wouldn't approach him to find out. Shyness had always been a trait of hers, albeit one she had always wished to overcome. But by herself, on a Berkmea Cable Car on a foreign continent, was risky enough, without talking to strangers.
Marelda was starting to get angry, but at the same time, a little scared. This was her first time in Ipsen, and this man could be from one of the Rebel Groups she had heard so much about.
But she quickly shook off her fear. A member of one of the Burmecian army's elite Dragon Knight Squads shouldn't be afraid of a man who had probably only glanced at her. There weren't many others in this particular car, and they didn't look like they would be affiliated with him.
Also, she had probably given the man much too much thought.
"We will be arriving at Ipsen's castle in a moment," came the voice of the attendant, now standing at the front of the car. Marelda's thoughts immediately shifted from the stranger to a familiar face. She was about to see an old friend, one she hadn't seen in quite a long time.
She was able to exit the cable car without incident, though she watched the stranger stride away through the station. He tapped another man on the shoulder, a tall man with red hair cropped very neatly. The stranger then pointed to Marelda, and the redhead turned around, bringing his face into Marelda's view.
"Horace!" She exclaimed, running towards him and wrapping her old friend in a hug. It all made sense now, the stranger had been sent by Horace to make sure she was on the cable car, it was something that of course Horace would do, and everything was safe now that she was with Horace.
"Marelda!" Horace greeted her. "That can't be you. You're not tiny!"
Marelda stepped back from their embrace, a smile now permanently etched onto her face. "It has been a while, hasn't it?"
Horace shrugged. "A few years, give or take."
Horace was an old family friend of the Greystos, having lived as a human in Burmecia prior to becoming a political power in Lindblum. He was now a higher-up in the Ipsen Government, and the entire Greysto family had been invited to come and visit him. "Sorry my mum and dad couldn't come," Marelda told him. "They couldn't get off work."
"Ah, but that's how it's always been with Alfred, working for the palace!" Horace said, the fire kindled in his eyes that Marelda loved so much. "How about you?" He continued. "Do you have a job of your own?"
Marelda beamed with pride. "I was just recently accepted into the Burmecian Army's Dragon Knight Squad."
Horace's eyes widened. "Well I'll be… little Marelda's all grown up."
And so the pleasantries continued for several more minutes, before it was decided that they should leave the station and commence the tour of Ipsen's Castle that Horace had offered to give her. Coming out of the station and onto the grassy plains around the castle, Marelda had to blink several times to adjust to the glaring sun before she had a chance to take in everything before her.
Grass surrounded the castle for a short distance before giving way to the desert plains that accompanied the cable car track all the way to Ipsen City. Many merchants had set up tents all around the castle, and it almost appeared to be a small hamlet set right outside the castle walls. Peasants were skipping about, playing flutes and harps, others lugging carts behind them. Small children played with dogs, and the merchants were peddling everything from gemstones to Bandersnatch hides.
The music gave the hamlet a rather cozy feel, and the entire place emanated a very relaxed atmosphere. It seemed as if the rebel stirrings in Ipsen City had no impact on these common folk, who wished merely to dance and sing and sell their goods.
As for the castle itself, it towered over the goingson beside it, its intimidating look contrasting sharply to the peaceful harmony of the peasants. It was also the most bizarre-looking structure Marelda had ever seen, looking like two castles that had been mashed together, one upside-down. The door to the castle looked to be two stories up, and a long stairway led from it down the ground. The stairway was protected by high walls on either side; though roofless, it did sport a portcullis.
"I'm sure you already know," Horace began, "but this is Ipsen's Castle. One of the great mysteries of Gaia, no one knows its origins, or even how long it's stood here. A long, long time ago, an explorer from the Mist Continent traveled here and discovered it. He documented his experience, but none of the three Realms of the Mist Continent seemed to be too interested in coming here. His name was Ipsen."
"I know the story of Ipsen," Marelda broke in. "He and his friend Colin…"
Horace chuckled. "Yes, everyone knows that story. It's not how the castle got it's name, though. Do you know the story of Terra?"
Marelda nodded. "As unbelievable as it is." And it was unbelievable, the entire tale, of the Flow of Souls, the Shimmering Island, the Ultima Spell, and dozens of other horrible and fantastic things.
"Well, in order for the heroes of the Eidolon War to get to Terra, they had to conquer four shrines, situated across Gaia --- one for each element of wind, water, fire, and earth. This castle held the whereabouts of the four shrines, and so the heroes came here to explore it. They named it Ipsen's castle, as Ipsen was the only one that anybody knew of who had been here."
"So, just because he came here once, Ipsen had an entire nation named after him?" Marelda asked.
Horace nodded. "Lucky guy. He's long dead, though." They started towards the castle's stairwell. "After the flow of souls stopped, and the mist disappeared, Lindblum began furiously working on new airships, ones that could run without mist to fuel them. A new era of steam-powered airships was ushered in, and after a few years, when anyone and everyone had access to the three previously unexplored continents, the three ruling realms of the Mist Continent --- Alexandria, Burmecia, and Lindblum --- decided to set up new nations, with ruling governments."
They had arrived at the portcullis, which was flanked by two Ipsen Soldiers. Glancing around, Marelda noticed quite a few more soldiers in positions around the castle's walls. The rebel stirrings were serious, indeed.
"North, on the Lost Continent," Horace continued, "the only city, Esto Gaza, had been destroyed in the Great Earthquake, and so they started from scratch to establish the new nation of Gulug. But here," his face was now lit up with a smile as he gestured towards the castle, the grand spectacle that was his home, "we took advantage of what had already been built. And so, Ipsen's Castle became the seat of power for the new government of the Forgotten Continent."
"Forgotten no more!" Marelda exclaimed, beaming. Horace was a masterful storyteller, and she was always more excitable than usual in his presence.
The two soldiers had let them pass, raised the portcullis, and the two of them were now ascending the stairwell. "Too true!" Horace agreed. "But then, mist no longer covers the Mist Continent, and the fools haven't changed its name, either!"
Marelda fell into a fit of giggles.
"Ipsen City was built on the other side of this deep canyon." Horace was continuing his tale. "And two other cities have been built in the realm of Ipsen."
"So how far are the boundaries of Ipsen, anyway?" Marelda asked.
"Well… that hasn't exactly been decided yet," Horace replied. "Brastel City is about halfway down the continent.
"Anyway, the three mist realms sent representatives to Ipsen's Castle, and we found quite a few surprises." They had now entered the castle's front doors. "The interior of the castle was easily the most bizarre design any of us had ever seen. It seemed to be a series of puzzles, and we knew there was no way that we could use it as it was. And so, rather than attempt to solve the puzzles, we knocked down and rebuilt much of the interior of the castle, mimicking Alexandrian architecture."
Marelda surveyed the entrance hall before her, which was bustling with activity, and it did somewhat resemble pictures she had seen of Alexandria Castle. "Did anyone protest that?" She asked.
Horace shrugged. "A few historians in Daguerreo, but not too vehemently. Anyway, the other big surprise was the amount of monsters within the castle's walls. Divisions from all three armies had to come and clean them out."
"Monsters?" Marelda asked. "How many?"
"Oh, there were a lot, but the soldiers had a good time. It was like Lindblum's Festival of the Hunt, but on a grander scale. There were some monsters that proved too powerful for their oppressors, but they were relegated to the dungeons."
Horace then gestured all around him. "Off to the left are training rooms for soldiers. Only the best are let into the army. I assume that it's the same for Burmecia." He flashed Marelda a smile. "To the right are the servant quarters. Now, let's go up, shall we?" He led her towards a staircase in the middle of the entrance hall.
"Is that it for the history lesson, then?" Marelda asked.
"Well, all the interesting stuff, anyway. The rest is just boring politics."
Marelda smirked. "I'm all ears."
"Ok, but don't say I didn't warn you. As Ipsen has only been an established nation for a few years, it's still ruled over by representatives from the three nations of the Mist Continent, while some sort of Monarchy is trying to be figured out. This… doesn't exactly please some of the Ipsen citizens, hence the rebel groups and riots in Ipsen City."
They had reached the second floor, and it, too, was filled with servants, soldiers, and others moving all about, some greeting Horace, others dodging around he and Marelda and looking rather frazzled.
"Care to see the kitchen?" Horace asked. "It's huge."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
After seeing the kitchen, Marelda had insisted on going back down and touring the training rooms. Horace had to pull some strings with security, but they it had been allowed. Expecting to find rooms full of soldiers in harsh training sessions, Marelda was shocked to find most of the rooms empty.
"Well, many of the soldiers have left to join the rebel Groups," Horace explained. "We're still a little apprehensive about recruiting more. If a rebel entered… well, we just don't want to take the risk of letting a mole in."
Marelda hadn't realized that there was that much public support for the rebels. A good thing, too, else she may have been too frightened to travel to Ipsen City alone! But in any case, Horace had sent that man to look after her.
What kind of shape could the Ipsen military be in, if many of them had left, and they weren't recruiting anyone new? They would have to, eventually. But how could they, and distinguish between rebels in disguise and good, honest men? One rebel couldn't hurt; it would take a lot to do any damage. How exactly would they do damage, though? Let other rebels in? Yes, that was probably it. In fact ---
"Marelda?" Horace nudged her.
"Oh, sorry…" Marelda made a mental note not to get too lost in thought again. "So, what's next?"
Horace led her to the third floor, which contained his quarters. They were in a luxurious, richly decorated hallway, filled with paintings of old Regents of Lindblum, Alexandrian Monarchs, and even Ipsen himself. Horace's room was similarly extravagant, right down to the bed he slept on. "Yan skin," he told her as he sat down on his blanket.
Marelda giggled. "You're so spoiled…"
They were interrupted by a man bursting through the door, panting hard. "You're needed at once," he gasped between breaths.
Horace turned to Marelda. His expression had become rather grim. "Sorry," he told her. "But you can't come. You're welcome to explore the entire castle, though."
She nodded. "That's fine."
Horace and his companion left, and Marelda waited a minute to do so herself. The visitor's news had seemed rather urgent, and his greeting rather informal. Something was amiss, and Marelda hoped it didn't have to do with the rebels.
Pushing the thoughts aside, she ventured back down to the training rooms, with one thing on her mind: Training with the Ipsen army. What a way to hone her skills.
"Ah, back again?" the soldier guarding the first training room asked.
"I have a request," Marelda told him. "I was wondering if I could train with you."
The guard gave her a puzzled look. "Permanently?"
"No, no, just for one session. Horace was called somewhere, and I have nothing else to do."
"Well…" the guard seemed hesitant.
"Come on, it would be fun for the soldiers to spar with a Dragon Knight." She wasn't going to give up.
"A Dragon Knight, eh? Well… wait here. I'll see what I can do."
Marelda smiled as he entered the room, hoping that they could lend her a spear. This would be quite the experience, indeed. Her friends at home would never believe it.