On the border of Dalmasca
He had met him by chance in the desert sand north of Rabanastre, very far from the fortress of Nalbina. Dirty and dehydrated, close to death if only Vossler had not intervened.
He was lying on the ground like so many men, a boy under twenty. His eyes of an unusual blue color stared at him, expressive but silent at the same time. His throat was dry.
To identify him was not difficult enough, he had to be one of the many refugees who escaped the invasion of Landis.
On the body were visible some injuries caused by the clashes with the monsters that wandered around those areas. Basch this was the name that barely emerged from the dry and chapped lips of the young man.
The war had put him on the run, but fortunately he had not killed him.
Yet it had taken away everything, could no longer claim his Landis.
- For them I am dead ...
Said the boy with a strange accent, Vossler stared at him unable to grasp the meaning of that sentence.
-Forget about it. Now you're in Dalmasca. "He just said the dalmasco, looking puzzled at his new travel companion.
Basch was struggling to find a certain tranquility, he had lost everything. Closed in what for him was a nightmare with open eyes. Landis fall forever.
I love this story ... the meeting between Basch and Vossler, a great friendship that we do not know how it was born. I would have liked to know more. Lately I wonder if I can write good stories or if my way is bad. The fact is that writing fanfic like this you always have to look for new ideas.