Blessed and Despised by Nsu-Yeul
Part One: Studies
Chapter One: Enza – Rights
"Did your parents sign the form?"
"Yeah, they didn't even hesitate." Stopping my walk to withdraw the homework folder from my messenger bag, I delicately revealed the pale green permission slip. Before I could even catch up to Ardele, he snatched the paper from me, nearly crinkling its edge. Before I could complain, he straightened it out, and we continued on our way to school.
"They signed the gil note on the spot, too," I added, flashing the thousand-gil note in front of his giddy eyes.
"Thank Yevon," he said while returning my slip and showing off his own. "Mine too, but I heard from my mom that Goran is withdrawing. His father changed his mind at the last minute and wouldn't give permission."
"Him too? Penna came to see me last night. Same thing happened to her, but it was because of the gil. I'd never seen her crying before."
"Two friends gone already, and the slip just went out yesterday. There's still a one more days before it's due. " Despite the warm breeze from the ocean just blocks away, he rubbed the sleeves of his uniform jacket. "This is making me nervous—all these people dropping out of Lucan. The Mastery Exam can't be that rigorous, right?"
A small palm frond had fallen onto our path. Carefully picking it up, I lightly pressed my fingers into its teeth. "It's less about the exam and more about the results. We can't predict what our results will be. It could be anything!"
"Or we might not pass."
I playfully tossed the palm frond at him. He narrowly dodged it, but looked more than a little affronted. His offended expression seemed comical in contrast to the curly ponytail sticking out from the side of his head.
"That could have cut me!" he shouted, barely keeping the quirks of a smile at bay.
"Well then, don't say things like that. My parents would be so disappointed if I didn't pass. I doubt they'd let me back in their house if I failed! Especially after they paid so much gil for it."
"It could be worse. What if you passed but got put in Dark Arts."
"That's just about as rare as getting placed in Summoning. Knowing me, I'll get Healing."
"Or Priesthood."
With no palm fronds left to throw, I crossed my arms testily. "Not funny. You should take your prayers to Yevon more seriously. Sin will always come back if we don't atone for our past mistakes."
"You don't say? And, I do pray, just not as much as you. I'll probably get Blitzball."
I laughed. "I'm sure, what with your girls' clothes and jewelry. The Lucan Liners—no, the Luca Goers really need a new player that specializes in hair and makeup."
"Shut up already! I was just kidding." He flared the red and white coattails of his girls' uniform jacket like an angry crane stretching its wings.
"Hey, I was, too." Still, I should have thought twice before teasing Ardele about his fashion choices. Always focusing on the strengths and interests of its students, Lucan Academy's school code permitted cross-dressing for boys and girls. Although androgynous students dotted the classrooms and cafeteria, the world outside popularly perceived cross-dressing as nothing more than a performance art.
Ardele, while male, expressed himself femininely. Any person glancing our way would see a boy and a pretty girl walking to school. Most noticeably, Ardele wore Lucan's girl's uniform. Instead of a red necktie, he wore a bow. Where I wore black long pants, he wore shorts cut off at the thigh over black stockings. The coattails of his jacket fell to the backs of his knees, while mine cut off at the hip. Our only similarities were our black undershirts and boots. Still, we both had similarly deep voices and nonexistent chests.
At Lucan, students looked forward to futures that most of Spira thought unimaginable. As such, expression of self never caused a stir. My own eyes were lined with kohl, and I'd even let Ardele cut my hair last year, complete with bangs and short layers. I chuckled to myself, remembering Ardele's excitement as he took scissors to my hair. "You'll look more put-together," he'd said above a flurry of snips. And whenever it came to aesthetics, Ardele was right.
Still, outside the paradise of Lucan, Ardele's own parents disapproved of his preference for the feminine. This morning's sensitivity led me to believe he'd had another run-in with his father.
"Sorry," I said, extending a hand to his shoulder.
He nodded, slowly. After a second or two of walking in silence, he smiled. "I started it anyway."
We quietly continued forward. The white sun beat down on us, even though it had only broken over the horizon an hour ago. The streets were waking up as nervous men and women left their houses for the day's work. A few kids were getting an early start on their chores, washing windows or collecting palm fronds from their yards. Some were repairing hurricane reinforcements—a home's only protection against vicious storms, or worse.
The daily walk to school always reminded me of my fortune. Getting into the city's only school, Lucan Academy, required more than an entrance fee. All accepted children, age five, had passed an arbitrary test administered by in-house staff. The only question I recalled from that day included being asked to blink three times as slowly as possible. Nevertheless, the administrator discovered some kind of potential in me, ushering me away from a preordained life to one of study and unpredictability.
"What do you think I'll get?" Ardele asked, bringing life back into the dead air between us. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he had truly forgiven me.
"To be honest, I think you might end up with Clairvoyance. Your intuition is way too keen. You called both Goran and Penna getting pulled from the Academy."
"That was just a feeling, not future sight."
"Well, you've got some kind of insight into a world I can't see. What about that time you knew there was going to be a fire on the East Wing's roof? The only reason we didn't eat lunch there was one of your 'feelings.'"
"That wasn't Clairvoyance. I could feel it, that was all."
"Yeah, then, what exactly were you feeling?"
"Heat… I don't know. It's like the weather. Can't you feel things like that?"
"Nope, and that's why I'll get placed in Healing." I smiled, but Ardele only shook his head. Before I could ask why, we entered Lucan's rusting gates.
Excited classmates lounged in the palm trees' shade, their red and white uniform jackets shining brightly in the shadows. More than a few displayed signed permission slips to their friends and underclassmen. As they whiled away the remaining minutes before the first chime, the school building patiently towered over us—easily the largest structure in the district.
"Is it just me," he asked as we approached the East Lawn, "or are there less students here than yesterday?"
"Enza, Ardele, over here!" Celandine called to us from a palm tree near the East Wing's red entrance doors. Her loose boy's uniform flopped into the air as she leapt up and down with excitement. Beside her stood an inanimate Avena, whose mouse-brown hair seemed a little disheveled, as though she'd woken late from a restless night's sleep.
As we made our way over, Celandine waved her permission slip like a signpost, her bright smile disclosing her parents' approval. Her bouncy enthusiasm sent her orange braids flying about her, but Avena didn't even flinch as they lightly smacked her nose. Unlike Celandine, she seemed less than celebratory and was noticeably empty-handed.
Before I could inquire, Headmaster Byran stepped out of the Academy's doors. The headmaster's black robe cascaded down his tall frame, in much the same way as Lucan's professors, but a braided symbol of Yevon hung loosely from his neck. The charm's eye seemed to watch the student body, seeking out repentance from sins.
With a decorative walking stick, Byran strummed the wind chimes hanging from the entrance overhang. An enchanted melody reverberated throughout the air, capturing every student's attention.
Lifting his hands to the sky, he began our daily ritual: "With another day we have been blessed. Praise be to Yevon." His arms cut fluidly through the air in the shape of a circle until his hands came to rest, one above the other, at his abdomen. His fingers curved slightly toward his cupped palms, as though handling a fragile orb.
"Praise be to Yevon," we echoed as one. Our hands moved to match his. Finally, in unison, we bowed, not to the headmaster but to the god who gave us the only hope in our devastated land. Still, our prayer sounded more morose than tranquil. By Yevon's grace we breathed in the sea-salty air. Tomorrow, or even ten minutes from now, we might not be as fortunate.
Somewhere in that distant sky, loomed our Sin. May our prayers appease you, I said silently, eyes closed. May our actions please you. Forgive me my missteps, which are many.
A nudge to my ribs woke me from my meditation. "C'mon," Ardele dared to whisper. With the conclusion of our morning prayer, a procession of mute students entered the school. Avena and Celandine waited by the entrance. Avena's detached gaze fell to her shoes, but Celandine appraised me with an impatient tap of her foot. Embarrassed but grateful for Ardele's wake-up call, I followed them into the building.
Seeing that the headmaster had returned to his quarters, Ardele leaned in for another whisper: "I told you that you're becoming a priest."
Without the freedom to argue, I grabbed his ponytail, tugging it hard. He barely swallowed a yelp, and I was left to bite back my laughter as we stumbled into homeroom.
The warning chimes sounded right as we found our seats. With some trepidation, I noticed Celandine patting Avena on the shoulder. Usually, it was the other way around—Celandine failing an exam and Avena comforting her friend. To see the opposite troubled me, but with the girls on the other side of the room, I couldn't whisper my concern.
One last chime signaled the beginning of class. The headmaster only rang the first chime of the day, leaving a school aide to do the job thereafter. Our homeroom curator, and teacher of Priesthood, Professor Kamaal took his place before his desk. We stood in unison, bringing our curved hands to our abdomens. In silence we bowed to Yevon's spirit. After a curt nod from Kamaal, we reseated ourselves. The mandatory silence was lifted, as class commenced.
"If your parents have signed the Retraction of Rights form, please pass it forward," he told us, "alongside your payment for the Mastery Exam."
The pale green permission slips surfaced from book bags and folders. Envelopes concealed the gil notes as they traveled from back to front. Two seats were noticeably empty: Penna and Goran had not returned today, leaving only ten students in our homeroom.
Kamaal collected the papers from each row, talking as he did so: "Come to school tomorrow prepared with your suitcases. You won't need more than your uniforms, formal attire, and basic toiletries."
Carrying the forms to the file cabinet behind his desk, Kamaal locked them away. Some sort of safety precaution, I guessed, but then again, I couldn't figure why such measures were needed in the first place.
"I've been praying for all of you. This is the product of ten years of study. Be vigilant, but I hope there is excitement as well?"
Pairs of eager eyes stared back at him, but no one was brave enough to actually respond to his question. An understanding smile broke out on Kamaal's thin lips.
"You are all strong in at least one course of study. May this Exam help you master your strengths and serve Spira for the good of the people."
I nodded my head in a silent prayer. From the corner of my eye, I caught Ardele smirking at me. While he pretended to find my piety amusing, I knew that his own faith rivaled mine. More than once, our lunch break had been spent meditating on the rooftop, often initiated by Ardele himself.
Still, his prayers always seemed rooted in a fear of Spira's sin rather than the glory of Yevon. The day the fire tore through the rooftop on the East Wing, Ardele's intuition had kept us both from eating there. The terror trembling in his brown eyes had warned of more than fleeting paranoia.
"We can't go there. Please, don't go there," he'd whispered, as though demons might overhear.
"Where should we go then?" I'd asked.
With a vehement shake of his head, he'd grasped my uniform sleeve. "Here, just stay here. Pray, Enza. I need you to pray."
So we'd sat in the empty, domed hallway, our backs against the stone wall. I mumbled prayers to the air, mostly to Yevon, even though I wasn't sure what he could do to save a rooftop at Lucan Academy. Ardele held my sleeve until the emergency chimes sounded. After that, we obediently followed the crowds to the front lawn. The fire on the roof had blazed like an angry fiend. Rumor had it that the Dark Arts Mastery professor had been sent to quench it.
Afterward, we never told the headmaster about Ardele's foresight, and no explanation ever came for the fire.
Shedding his fatherly airs, Kamaal readdressed the class: "For those of you whose families are still deciding, remind them that tomorrow morning is the deadline. Mastery Exams will begin after homeroom. I hope to see all of you then. For now, let's call roll."
Several students were missing. Ardele flashed six fingers in my direction from beneath his desk. So then, we'd both been counting. Six classmates from our homeroom alone had dropped out. Just a little under a full day remained for families to make their final decision to sign the form. I wondered how many permission slips Kamaal had received this morning and how many more were still needed.
"You may talk freely for the rest of the period," he added.
Without hesitation, I turned to Ardele. "Have you packed yet? What do you think the dorms will look like?"
He laughed. "Do you want me to answer both those questions? I haven't packed. There was a bit of a skirmish in my house as to what kind of uniforms I should be packing."
In other words, his parents wanted him to pack only boy's uniforms. "What are you going to do?"
"I didn't pack at all. I'll pack last thing tomorrow morning and head out. It's not like they can do anything to me once I'm out the door. They signed the form, after all."
The Retraction of Rights form—to most students, like myself, it was a bittersweet trade, saying goodbye to our families in order to take the Mastery Exam. For Ardele, that pale green paper represented his emancipation.
"Well, I don't have your excuse, but I haven't finished packing either. I'll get everything together to—"
The chimes rang again, initiating the Passing to the next period. Reticence befell the classroom, one that could only be broken by our next professor's prayer to Yevon. Ardele gathered his bag and waved before walking out the door. All the students in my year took the same courses, but in a different order. While Ardele headed to Chronicling, I stayed put for Priesthood with Professor Kamaal.
Avena and Celandine followed close behind Ardele. On her way out, Avena caught my stare. After flashing me an obligatory smile, she quickly shifted her eyes away. Her fingers nervously hooked and unhooked the clasps on her jacket. Forbidden to speak during Passing, I sighed as her figure disappeared through the doorframe.
After a few minutes, the class filled with students. Finally, the enchanted chimes filled the halls with their music. Kamaal took his place in front of his desk, hands resting before his abdomen. We stood; we bowed, initiating another class.
Guiding us to the forty-sixth chapter in the Book of Yevon, we spent the period studying the use of emptying our minds in purging sin. Even Kamaal seemed distracted by tomorrow's prospects, giving up on formal study and allowing us to practice our own personal meditation. Needless to say, my mind stayed full to the brim with thoughts of the Mastery Exam.
I met up with Ardele and Avena in our Music elective. We waved across the silent room just as the chimes sounded. Even without a professor around, the class dutifully stood and bowed to Yevon's spirit. Immediately thereafter, conversation exploded around the room. Since elective courses were student-facilitated, today's class sounded more like cafeteria chatter than an organized symphony.
"Did your family sign the permission slip?"
"I've been packed for three days already!"
"My parents are still thinking about it… I haven't been able to concentrate all day."
To my surprise there was a handful of students whose parents had yet to make a decision—Avena one of them.
How could a parent deny their child the Mastery Exam? Upon entering Lucan Academy, we were all told of the Exam and its implications. In exchange for an exemplary education, parents would retract their rights over their child during their fifteenth year, transferring those rights to the Academy. There was little to no danger in this, as most of the courses of study were, for the most part, harmless. Athletics, Healing, Aesthetics, Swordsmanship, Chronicling, Priesthood, and even Clairvoyance were highly valued within Spira. Only Summoning and Dark Arts held any sense of foreboding, but the two tracts required exceptional marks on the Exam, and as such had rarely been bestowed.
By the time I reached Ardele on the far side of the room, he was already tuning his instrument.
"Chronicling was ridiculous," he told me over his hanging harp. Tied to his wrist and elbow, the instrument fell from his outstretched arm to his hip. As his fingers absentmindedly strummed the strings, it produced a warmer sound than a standing harp. "Professor Svant had us copying the textbook the whole time! She didn't let us talk either. Some new kind of torture before the Exam, no doubt."
"Maybe it'll come in handy."
He snorted derisively before giving up on the harp. No one else had tuned their instruments, and I certainly didn't feel like singing.
Suddenly, a loud crack filled the room, like a wooden house splitting in half. We simultaneously pivoted toward the door and grabbed our instruments, expecting a professor. To our surprise, an older man in plainclothes entered the room. His roving eyes dug into us from beneath rough eyebrows, as though seeking prey.
"Get up, Avena!" the man yelled. Avena flinched, unable to meet the man's stubborn glare. "Running away to go to this damned school. You're coming home, and you're staying home. No school is going to take ownership of you. I'm not signing that paper and I'm not letting your become a summoner, or worse."
Awakened by that last statement, Avena spoke up, although quietly: "But, no one actually gets summoner on the Mastery—"
He slammed his fist into the doorframe. "You can't say that. There's been at least one summoner who's died at the hands of this school! You'll thank me later, when you're still alive."
Avena burst into tears, grabbing her book bag. I had to look away as she made the trek to the door, to give her some privacy. Searching for Ardele, in the hopes of finding some silent understanding, I found his own eyes downcast. An inexplicable desire to comfort him gripped my chest. But between his hollow stillness and Avena's grieving, I withered, unable to alter anything around me.
Just before Avena's father slammed the Music room door, he turned to assess us. The fury had drained from his face, replaced with a new, pitying expression.
"Be safe," he mumbled, then softly closed the door, abandoning us to our own unsettled confusion.
A/N: Thanks for giving this fanfiction a shot! This story is primarily AU, with some encounters with canon FFX characters as it goes on. Note that on my Author Profile there are 3 fun facts for this chapter that aren't included in what you already read. Please review with questions, comments, or critiques, as well as any grammatical or spelling errors you've noticed!