Disclaimer:
I do not own Final Fantasy Tactics. All rights are reserved to SquareEnix and the other stakeholders.
Mandalia Plains, a vast field of grass that spread for miles on end. A perfect rest stop for any weary traveler. Calming winds blew, the sounds of Chocobo and laughter filled the air. A group of four children were running around the field playing a game that has been passed on since time immemorial.
"Surrender knave," a boy said. His blond hair fluttering with the wind. Pushing the other boy to the ground and disarming him. The pale boy pointed his wooden sword to the boy on the ground. His brown eyes fixed upon the boy with slick brown hair and bronze skin. "I will not let you lay a finger on the princesses."
"We'll see about that," the other boy smirked. He flipped backwards causing his aggressor to stagger and quickly rearmed himself with his sword a few paces away. "You cannot save them knight. Only I have the power to do so."
The blond seemed to be affected by his words but quickly shrugged it off. Yet a moment is all that is needed in a battle between warriors. His distraction preventing him from noticing the other boy's advance. Contact was made blowing his sword out his hand. The next moment, his opponents weapon was inches from his neck.
"Today, it is Delita who became the victor," A girl with similar features to the defeated boy said. "Good job Delita."
"Thank you milady," Delita curtsied. Looking around he noticed that he did not recognize their present location. "Ramza, where are we?"
"I am not sure," Ramza answered. "I am sure that we were playing near the outskirts of Eagrose when we began."
"Standing around will not help us in our predicament," the last member of their party said. "It will be dark soon and we are ill prepared to stay the night outside."
"Tietra is right," Ramza said. He looked to his friend to see if their were of like minds. With an unspoken agreement that happened the moment that their eyes met, he turned to the direction where they came from and began walking. "We should be on our way."
Eagrose Castle, people running around like headless chickens. Barbaneth Beoulve along with his son Zalbaag had searched all sectors of the city for the children of their house. Their thoughts becoming more grim as more time passes.
"Hath you found anything Zalbaag?" Barbaneth asked.
"I did not," Zalbaag replied. "Where could they have gone?"
"I do not know," Barbaneth said. "We must widen the search. Night falls soon and we haven't much time."
"Sirs," A knight called as he came through the doors of the manor. "I have news. Someone spotted the children playing by the outskirts of the castle a few hours ago."
"The outskirts," Zalbaag said. His hand playing with the hair on his chin.
"Milord," The knight called. Posing a question that alarmed Zalbaag. "Could they have gone to the plains to play?"
"That's dangerous!" Zalbaag shouted. Realizing that the possibility is still there. "Father!"
He turned to his father to find that he was no longer there. He took a look at his surroundings locating the man running down the stone road almost at the gate of the city. Zalbaag wondered when his father had left him behind but there was a task to be done and family to save. So, he began his stride to follow the old war hero out of the city.
The sun had already set. Though they were lost, the children were in high spirits. They were enjoying their time chatting with one another about different topics. It would not be long before the boys will be sent to the academy and the girls will be sent to a monastery. They were as close as siblings perhaps closer than that of the two Beoulves to their blood siblings. So when they were told that they would be sent to different places. It had devastated them. To compensate for the time they will be spending away from one another, the children began spending as much time as they can with each other.
"Your defense is not bad," Delita telling his friend. "If you would have parried my first swing, it would not have caused your sword to fly but my head would be bloodied from hitting the boulder that was behind you."
"Truly you are a friend Delita," Ramza replied. "But there is no need to speak falsely on the account of my feelings. My skills are not that good."
"You truly belittle yourself too much," Delita disagreed. "Your instructors have nothing but praise for you. Your father speaks so highly of you."
"He's right brother," Alma agreed. "I also believe that you are destined for greatness."
"See," Delita finalized.
"Thank you Delita," Ramza said. "I will try to live up to everyone's high expectations."
"Just keep doing what you believe is right Ramza," Delita said. Noticing the highest towers of the city in sight. "The castle! We're almost there."
"Aaaaahhhh!"
The children turned to the source of the shriek. Tietra stood frozen. A panther like creature with silver hair was several meters away from her. Inching closer to its prey. The young girl looked at her companions. Fear written on her face.
"A coeurl," Ramza said. Pulling his sister behind his back. Readying himself for the first and final battle they might ever have. Scanning the area, he found something odd. "Why is a monster as such traveling alone?"
"Yes I know," Delita replied. "If this one found us then the pack must not be far behind."
"Then we must rescue Tietra and escape quickly," Ramza said. He readied his weapon. "Delita, I have a plan."
"You have my attention Ramza," Delita answered. Taking a stance.
"Your tasks is simple," He told his friend. He began charging the creature. "The stones around you! Use them. Distract the creature as I approach. I will try to aggravate the creature and force it to go after me instead. Once that happens take Tietra and run for the castle."
"That's suicide!" Alma and Delita shouted at him.
Their reprimand fell on deaf ears. The blond boy was already making his way towards the monster. Left with no choice, they followed the boy's insane plan. Delita launched a barrage of stones on the coeurl taking its attention away from his sister and giving his friend time to get in close. Alma waited for the opportunity to get her friend out of danger.
It seems that luck had favored the children. The foolhardy plan of the young Beoulve had worked. With a hit on the snout, Ramza had successfully angered the silver panther and was now glaring at him. Alma had taken Tietra and were now running for the castle walls. Delita a few meters away refused to leave his comrade.
"Ramza! Alma! Delita! Tietra!" Voices called from the distance. Two figures came to view. A man with white hair tied in a ponytail and a goatee and a man with short auburn hair with a serious demeanor were walking towards them and repeating their calls.
"Lord Barbaneth! Lord Zalbaag!" Tietra called. "We're over here!"
"Father! Brother! Hurry!" Alma shouted. "Ramza and Delita are in trouble."
This spurred the two men. The children relaxed knowing that the two can handle a single coeurl. They just needed to hold for a little bit longer. Then the unthinkable happened. The coeurl that the two boys were fighting howled and was answered by no less than a dozen other howls. A moment later the two men were surrounded by a pack of silver and purple panthers. Then the panther leaped for Delita. The boy dodged only grazed. The panther continued its assault and slammed the boy to a boulder nearby. Knocking him unconscious. Ramza ran to aid his friend but was thrown back by the monster's claw. It would seem that the creature held grudges. Instead of finishing off Delita, it turned towards Ramza. It prowled towards the boy stopping when it was practically was on top off him. One of its claws pinning down the boy's sword arm. With one fell swoop, it slashed the blond boy across the chest.
"Ramza!" Alma shrieked. She fell to her knees. Tears flooding her eyes.
Seeing the blood the flowed from the wounds it inflicted, it threw the boy to the side. It scanned the area for any other threats. Finding none. It moved towards to claim its original target. Unable to leave her friend and knowing that their protectors are preoccupied by their aggressor's pack. Tietra watched in horror as the silver monstrosity inched closer to them.
"Alma, Tietra, run," Ramza said in pained breaths. Unable to stand, he tried to crawl towards them trying to protect the two. His vision darkening with each passing moment. As he succumbed to his wounds and began to fall to unconsciousness, a memory flashed through the boy's mind. Foreign yet familiar, the feelings of powerlessness, antipathy, shame and guilt were all too real for it to be a dream. He could feel the snow falling on him like it was happening right now. The horror as he saw the arrow pierce through Tietra and the guilt of not having been able to save her. How his heart shattered when he saw her lifeless body just before the fort exploded. The emotions sparked Ramza's will. It had brought back his consciousness.
"No more," the young boy whispered. Tears ran down his cheeks. He grasped his wooden sword. Though he knew that physical contact was impossible, his intuition told him that his attack would make contact. He brought up his sword. Willing the sword to sacrifice his life to protect those he held dear. When he brought the blade down a conical blast was created hitting everything in its field. The coeurl, having no cover was instantly killed. Satisfied with the outcome, he smiled to the two ladies and let the darkness take him.
"Ramza!" Alma shouted. Half of her was stupefied at the prowess that her brother had just unleashed. The other half scared at the consequence of using such power on his damaged body. She ran to her brother as Tietra checked on hers.
"Alma, Tietra are you unhurt?" Zalbaag asked. Rushing towards them. Barbaneth beside him. A silent order passed. Zalbaag brought Delita to them.
"We are," Alma replied. "Father, Ramza was."
"I know Alma," Barbaneth said. "I saw."
"The boy suffered some cuts and a few broken bones." Zalbaag gave his assessment. placing the boy beside his friend. "Nothing that places his life in danger. He will be feeling sore for the a while though."
Hearing that Tietra face showed relief. She then turned to the boy that had just saved them. The boy had defeated monster when there was no fight even left in him. She was a commoner. They were in danger. He could've just taken Alma and ran. Still he stayed. Came up with the reckless plan that resulted in him ending up like this. A gash on his chest. Losing blood heavily from his wounds. It was odd. It was said that noble blood was blue but here was proof that they bled the same blood just like any commoner. She knelt by the boy's head and turned to the adults before her. Her usually stoic face was replaced with desperation.
"Please! He risked his life for me," She pleaded. "Save him!"
"Of course we," Zalbaag answered irritatedly. He was cut off when he felt his father's hand on his shoulder.
"It is alright Tietra," Barbaneth assured her with a smile on his face. He begun weaving signs for a spell. "He will be fine."
Holy light enveloped the two boys. Their injuries began mending and their breathing had become more steady. Delita's bones snapped back into place causing the boy to wince. The slash on Ramza's chest started closing as the skin melded and created new connections that were severed. Still he looked paler than usual from the lost of blood but was out of immediate danger.
"Thank you," Tietra said to the man. Relief clear on her face as tears traveled down her face. Her thanks was received with a smile and a nod from the old knight.
"Father," Alma called. With the crisis passed, a thought came to her mind. "That attack that Ramza did. Was it not..."
"It was," Barbaneth answered her before she could finish her question. The man was also puzzled at what occurred.
"That's impossible," Zalbaag argued. "Such a complex technique is barred by requirements. How can a boy not even a naive perform such a feat."
The words rang true in Barbaneth's mind. As stated the class was barred by requirements. Much less the experience needed to learn the technique. Still the skill was unique and there was no mistaking it for another. The destruction and devastation it had caused. The damage it dealt the coeurl. There was no doubt in his mind. The question remained. How did the boy learn of the skill? Knowing that they would not get their answer even if they worked their minds to the brink that night. He smiled at his second son and uttered words that gave a simple answer.
"He is a Beoulve."
Author's Notes:
Hello readers!
Here is an FFT story that has been brewing in my head for a while. I was wondering how it would be if the game had something similar to a new game+. Hope you enjoyed the story. If you have any comments, thoughts, ideas or just find some mistakes in the chapter feel free to tell me. It helps improve the quality of the future ones. Thanks for reading!