The Fine Line Between Truth and Dreams.
By Xero and JSB
Disclaimer: The authors of this story do not own FFT or FFTA or the characters contained within. They belong to their creators, and Square-Enix.
Chapter Two.
A wind blew across the green plains, rustling the somewhat overgrown grass. The sound of metal on metal clanged throughout the area, though no passerby's were around to hear it. The source of this disruption of the otherwise peaceful plains was a relatively common occurrence. Several people were locked in the midst of combat, but the majority of one side had already fallen - Leaving a good four versus a measly two. The winning side was a group of thieves, while the losing side was a team sent to retrieve the goods that had been stolen.
Such conflicts, as previously mentioned, were common - The entire Mission and Clan system partially revolved around it. Over on the edge of the battlefield was a mounted man in armor, a Judge, with a none too pleased expression on his face. That expression turned into a grimace as another one of the Clan team members went down, the remaining teaming up on the last. He desperately wished there was something he could do to stop this unfair fight, but he had already set the Law for the battle in the most one-sided manner he could. The thieves had surprised him, however, by being able to work around that and still handedly beat the tar out of their opponents.
As the last of the Clan team fell, the blonde's expression turned into one of disappointment, letting out a sigh. Reluctantly, he raised his hand to announce the victor, the thieves turning to him expectantly. "Battle over... Victor..."
After a moment without the Judge completing his statement, one of the thieves helpfully piped up. "We're part of the Treasure Takers."
"Victory Treasure Takers..." The Judge finished lacklusteredly. It wasn't right that this happened, but he couldn't do anything about it. Not without breaking the rules of course. He grinned slightly as he made his plan. And to think he had just gotten off his last punishment. The things one does for true justice.
The blonde unmounted his chocobo and began walking towards the group of celebrating thieves slowly. It wasn't long before they noticed he was still there, and they all frowned, staring at him.
"Hey, why are you still here? The battle is over judge, go back to where you belong." One of the thieves jeered, pointing at him impolitely. The other thieves seemed to be in agreement, even if they didn't voice it. There was no way he was going to let them go without seeing justice done.
"The battle is over..." The blond man said, raising his hand towards the group. Crimson colored cards began to form in a line in front of the hand, floating in mid air, until five cards were formed. "However, justice shall be done."
"Hey! you can't do that!" Another thief called, standing defiantly. "We won that battle fair and square!" It didn't help that his comrades were all fearfully backing away from the judge. Just their luck, a Rogue Judge.
"Red Card Infringement, Go to jail!" The blond man yelled, watching as all five of the cards sought out their targets, even hitting the one unconscious member of the thieves' group. In five flashes of light, all of the thieves disappeared. Jail is where scum like them belonged anyway. With justice served, the judge made his way back to his chocobo, and mounted it. Raising his arm, he also disappeared in a flash of light, leaving behind the unconscious members of the defeated clan.
(-)
The wooden door burst open, the sound of the door hitting the wall beside it echoed through the large hallway. A blonde man entered through the opened door, a grim expression adorning his face. He shut the door behind him in the same fashion he had opened it, and stormed through the hallway, boots beating against the polished stone floor. This day was only going to get worse for him, and he knew it. It was only a matter of time until his family got news of his actions, which would result in another punishment.
"Brother Ramza!" A soft voice called to him, and he shook his head to rid himself of his anger. Standing next to the doorway to the inner part of the castle was his sister, the owner of the voice, wearing one of her normal dresses. There was no way he could ever appear angry to his younger sister. Not that he would be able to hide his stunt from her either. He quickly made his way over to her, a soft smile forming on his face.
"Alma," The blonde man acknowledged, tilting his head towards her, before continuing through the door way. His sister followed, a frown adorning her face as she continued to look up at him.
"How was becoming a judge again brother?" She asked, curiously. Damn, and he was so sure he would be able to get past today without getting in this discussion.
"The same as usual." Ramza continued to smile, trying to keep his bluff up. He would only worry her more if she knew he kept getting in trouble with the judges, and that was something he wanted to avoid, if possible.
"The usual? You mean you sent the battle winners to jail again, didn't you?" She asked, watching as his smile broke into pieces, replaced completely by a frown. He turned to her, looking her dead in the eyes, and sighed.
"They were thieves that had stolen something or other, and the clan that came to retrieve what was stolen was defeated so easily." The blond man stated, feeling frustrated. "I couldn't let them get away with that injustice. It didn't sit well with me, and so I red carded the entire group." His sister nodded in understanding.
"And then your superiors gave you another lecture when you got back to the council, correct?" She theorized, earning a nod from her older brother. "Well, it isn't like this is the first time this happens. But to have it happen so soon as your last dismissal was lifted, what were you thinking?"
Ramza could only drop his head at the remark. At this rate, he would never be able to do what he believed he needed to.
"Of course," Alma continued, grinning widely, "I probably would have done the same, had I been in your place."
Ramza chuckled at that, his spirits lifted by the remark. That wouldn't last, however, as the sound of approaching footsteps drew both of the siblings attention to the door Ramza had just come through a minute ago. There stood another man with blonde hair, a trait their entire family shared, bearing a frown on his face.
"Ah... Hello, Zalbaag." Alma greeted, knowing what was coming and not really wishing for it to happen. She hated it when Ramza got punished...
"Hello, Alma." The man nodded in her direction briefly, before returning his gaze back to Ramza. He seemed to be contemplating how to start, before giving a light sigh. "I assume we can skip the beating around the bush? You broke the rules again, Ramza."
"I know." The other man nodded. "But I don't regret it."
The older brother nodded again, doing so before the younger brother had even finished speaking. It was more or less the same response that was always given. "Then, you are prepared to accept the consequences of your actions?"
Ramza inwardly sighed, not looking forward to it at all. No matter how proud he was of his actions and not conforming to the rules of Judgehood, punishment was still an unpleasant experience. Straightening up, he offered another comment regardless of if it would affect his brother at all. "What good are judges if they cannot bring justice?"
His brother nodded once again, understanding that it was the same as all the other times. He rose his hand up, a green card appearing to form in his hand. "Ramza, the Beoulve family has been a family of Judges for generations, respecting and upholding the laws that the order set up. We are only allowed to uphold those laws. If we break those laws, what will the citizenry think?"
He paused, bringing his hand down, and pointed the card at his brother. Despite his serious face, he was not happy about having to punish his brother once again.
"Judge Law Infringement: Green Card, Judgement Revoked," Zalbaag stated, not even needing to watch as the card flew out of his hand to Ramza, moving straight through the younger man's armor. Ramza stiffened as the card attached itself to his skin, trying to will away the pain of the card. Alma had latched onto one of Ramza's arms in hopes that her presence might be able to ease some of the pain. When he saw that the pain seemed to subside, Zalbaag spoke again.
"Father would like to speak with you Ramza, probably regarding this matter of you continuously breaking the rules. Be sure to not keep him waiting." He said, hiding all emotion, before leaving the two siblings.
Ramza turned once more to his sister, forcing a smile despite the lingering pain of the card. "Thanks Alma, it's good to know that at least one person thinks I did the right thing." With that said, he made his way towards the stairs, which would lead him to his father.
(-)
Ramza shut the door to his room, sighing lightly over the conflicts of the day. Familiar conflicts, but frustrating ones nonetheless. He sat down on the edge of his bed and started to reflect on the day's events. Whenever something happened, he would think over it to try and figure out if his part had been the right one. While he had broken the laws, he still always came up with his doing being the correct thing at the end of the day. Why he got punished for it, he had never understood beyond it being a law. A useless law, or at least a misused one. It would make sense to have laws against biased judges, but using them against him for sending criminals to jail?
At least, the blonde thought, he had his father's subtle approval. The man, nearly the highest level of Judge one could be, would always make sure what his son had done had been for the right reasons, and then give him a subtle encouragement. Nothing dramatic, but it made him feel better knowing that someone of his father's level in the system shared his ideals - Even if he never heard of him acting on them. Alma also agreed with him, and little parts of him thought Zalbaag might secretly do so as well. His other brother, Dycedarg, he had no idea what thought of it. Knowing him, he probably didn't let it concern him much either way.
Feeling a bit better after reflecting on it in a calm manner, instead of the anger-ridden thoughts he had earlier, Ramza decided he would write down some notes on the battle he witnessed that day and made his way over to his messy desk. He sifted through the pieces of parchment, until he was able to find one that was mostly untouched, and placed it on top of the mess. He found his quill on the edge of the desk, and frowned slightly as he realized all too late that his ink bottle was out of ink. Hoping he had an extra bottle in one of his desk drawers, he opened one of them, scanning the contents in it. What caught his eye was not a bottle of ink, but a leather pouch he had no recollection of putting in his desk drawer. He never put bags in his drawers, simply because it would only add one more step to finding what he wanted, so this was odd to him.
He pulled out the bag, untying the string around it, and poured its contents onto the desk. The blonde blinked, finding the items now scattered on top of the pile of parchments peculiar. He grabbed the closest item, a grass whistle, remembering the last time he had used one. Could this bag be filled with stuff from his childhood?
He placed the grass reed whistle down, his hand drifting over the next item, before picking it up to examine it. It was a rather plain band that was made of silver. He couldn't remember having a reason to get a ring. Placing that back down on the desk, he reached for the last item, a strange white gem with a crescent-like shape. As his hand touched it, a bright flash of light from the stone engulfed his vision.
Images filled his mind, as if viewing fragmented scenes of something, that he strangely knew the meanings and context behind. Several particular images stood out, one of his sister Alma. The others were people he didn't know, but somehow did, including a man with red hair that drew out strong feelings of camaraderie towards him. However, the images turned darker, showing him various demons locked in combat with someone he seemed to be viewing from the perspective of. When had he ever fought demons?
This continued for what seemed a lifetime, but in reality took an infinitely smaller amount of time, until he found himself back at his desk, in his room, with a headache from all the knowledge that had been dumped into his head. Absently, he pocketed the stone as he tried to think clearly, shaking his head in an attempt to sort things out. Memories were clashing, and he could not tell which set was true and which set was the dream. Looking down, however, at the two objects still on his desk brought to mind two distinct memories. The whistle, sent him back to his childhood - Only not, it was that other set of memories childhood - with a younger version of that red headed man and him being taught how to make grass whistles by his father.
The second memory, however, sent him into a state of shock for a moment. The ring... It was from his wedding... With Alma. He had married his own sister? Certainly he was fond of her, but he didn't think it enough to get romantically involved. The new - or old, he couldn't tell - memories however, magnified that fondness, until he found that it was not quite so an absurd notion. It still clashed with his... Judge-Self, he decided to call that version of him, but the... Heretic? Hero? Both seemed to apply to that other version of him. Regardless, that self seemed to have embraced the idea. The other Alma and Ramza had been through a lot, his memory told him, so he could see how it ended up that way.
Ramza shook his head again. He couldn't tell what was real or not. The new memories felt too fantastic and magical to be real, things like that adventure just didn't happen, but they also felt... Correct. He flipped the ring around in his fingers as if through habit, before sighing and placing it back on the desk.
"I'll deal with this in the morning," he said to himself, before heading towards his bed. Thinking more would only increase the headache he had just received. He'd probably be in better shape tomorrow. He did have plenty of time to think about it, now that his ability to judge was revoked.
(-)
A group of warriors walked along the mountain path, filled with determination. A blond man led the group of orange skinned, lizard like humanoids, known to Ivalice as Bangaa, to their destination, not really worried about what his job was. He looked up at the cliff face beside the main pass road, feeling that would probably one of the best hiding spots for a group of thieves.
"This is Lutia Pass...right Lunias?" he asked his partner, co-leader of the newly formed Ivalice Snowmen clan.
"Yessss, it isssss, Marche" The Bangaa white monk answered, following the blonde's gaze towards the cliff face.
"I would sssssay that cliff would be the best ambussssshh spot for a group of thievessss in hiding." Another Bangaa said from behind the two leaders.
"Thanks for the tip Euver, we should probably head that way then," the blonde finished, walking towards the cliff, finding it odd that there were bodies strewn along the ground.
"Did sssssssome clan beat ussss here?" Lunias asked, glancing at the group of unconscious humes on the path on the side of the cliff.
"They do match the description the Inn gave us." Marche sighed, rubbing the back of his head as a look of annoyance formed across his features. "It looks like we came here for nothing."
"Indeed," his partner said, nodding his head solemnly as he crossed his arms. However, he formed a smile before speaking again. "You could alwaysssss teach usss more of thisss 'Hockey' you sssspoke of before. It issss an intriguing game."
Marche Radiuju shook his head, chuckling all the while. He was really glad that he had decided to not back down after insulting the pair of Bangaa when they had first met. Because of that brawl, they had become impressed with each other's strength. Afterwards Lunias had invited him to start a clan together, for some reason or another. Having just appeared in a world he knew nothing about, he had agreed immediately.
"Well, if you insssssisssst," the blonde said, avoiding the punch that would have hit him in the face.
"Insssssulting ussss again? Why you!" Despite the intentions of the words, the smile the Bangaa monk had told him it was all in good fun.
(-)
Ramza's eyes fluttered a few times as he woke up, his vision blurring for several moments before he fully returned to the world of the awake. Brushing some messed up strands of hair out of his eyes, the blonde sat up in the bed, sheets falling from his chest down to his lap. Pulling the sheets up, he swung his feet out to the side of the bed, letting out a yawn before he pushed himself up off the bed and onto his feet. Scratching his bare chest, the penalized judge blinked as he noted the lack of something. His gaze moved downward, eying his unmarked chest with confusion. Where was the Judge Card that he'd been hit with? Frowning, he tried to think of when it had disappeared, but had no memory of it. The events of the night before had distracted him completely, so he hadn't noticed if it was there or not...
Speaking of which, his decision to sleep on it had been a good one - He no longer had a headache and felt much more together, rather than like a fragmented person. Apparently his mind had sorted everything out while he slept, though he still couldn't be sure which set of memories was true. Regardless, he had plenty of time to think on the matter later. For now, he needed to get dressed and go down to breakfast with the others. His father was insistent on the family spending what time together that they could, and Ramza enjoyed that as well. He hardly saw Dycedarg or Zalbaag otherwise. A frown adorned his face as that other set of memories told him all three of those men were supposed to be dead, and he was put into an even sourer mood on realizing Dycedarg had betrayed them all.
Not this one, that other one... He really wished to believe that this Dycedarg was different, and would try not to associate the two versions if he could help it. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he quickly dressed himself before heading out of his room. It was a short trek from his room to the dining room, not crossing paths with anyone along the way, and somewhat difficult to keep his thoughts silent. Soon enough, however, he arrived to find his family all seated in their respective positions at the large table. Taking his own seat, briefly glancing down to find the meal of the morning was omelet's with various meats and vegetables mixed in.
Picking up his fork and knife, he began to eat his meal in silence, all the while looking at the members of his family seated at the table. According to his newer memories, everyone one that was here was supposed to be dead, besides his younger sister and himself. It was truly strange to see them alive, yet have the feeling that they should not be of the living. His heart ached at the thought, especially regarding Zalbaag's death. He had always treated him so kindly, even when punishing him, so to think him dead was a terrible thought.
Finally Ramza's eyes stopped as he looked at his sister, finding that his heart practically started to beat faster. He quickly looked away, and went back to feverishly eating his food. This was not good, those memories were wrong, they had to be. Why would he love his own sister in such a way. It was detestable, or least he tried to reason with himself that it was, yet he couldn't get it out of his head.
He couldn't take it anymore. Staying in the same room as all these people, with the memories he had...he just could not stay there any longer without breaking. Without even finishing his meal, he pushed his chair back, and stood up. Nodding to his father, he walked quickly away, leaving the rest his family to stare as he walked off.
"He's probably just upset over his Judge powers being revoked again." Dycedarg stated offhandedly. It was only right that he be punished for breaking the rules. He then went back to discuss some current judge issue with his father.
Alma remained silent as she watched her brother leave, feeling rather concerned. That couldn't be the reason behind these actions. She knew that Ramza had to have a much better reason for acting in such a way.
"Excuse me," Alma said, before she herself stood up as well, and briskly walked out of the room, intent on catching up to Ramza. Something was indeed wrong.
(-)
"Man, I'm still bummed that someone beat us to that Mission..." Marche sighed as he and his Bangaa friends sat around a table in the clan's home base. Euver nodded in agreement, but Lunias waved a clawed hand to dismiss the concerns.
"Bah! Theressss plenty of misssssssssionssss to go around." He commented in the usual Bangaa accent - Mainly being that all "s" sounds were drawn out - and motioned to the food the three had before them. "We'll eat, then try to grab another misssssssssion. The clan can afford to misssssssss a few."
"That's true I guess." Marche nodded, perking up as he put his attention for the first time to the food in front of him since he'd sat down. It was a oversized drumstick, as far as he could tell, and had a reddish color to it. "Huh... Do you guys grow really big chickens or something?"
"What'sssss a chicken?" Euver questioned, after taking a bite of his own oversized drumstick - though his was more of a light yellow-brown color.
Marche blinked, recalling that they probably didn't have the same animals here as his own world, before shrugging. "Er, never mind."
Picking up the drumstick, he took a bite before jerking back slightly in surprise at the taste that met his tongue. It was really spicy, and if he wasn't mistaken, tasted like barbeque sauce had been put all over it. "Hey, is this Spicy Barbeque Sauce? It's really good!"
"Spisssy, yesssss." Lunias nodded, pointing at his own similarly flavored drumstick with one claw. "But I do not know what thisss "burbique sssssausssssse" issss."
"What, seriously? You guys don't have barbeque sauce?" Marche asked blankly, unbelieving that something could taste exactly like it and yet they don't know of it. Of course, it could have been known by a different name, but that didn't occur to the displaced hockey player. "There's no way this tastes naturally like this, whatever it is."
"Red Chocobo tassssstessss like that on itsssss own." Euver shrugged. "Jussssssst like Yellow Chocobo tassssstesss like honey and musssstard ssssaussse."
"Really? That's unnatural." Marche blinked, eying the drumstick. "Wait a second, did you say this is Chocobo? Aren't those like horses for you guys? Aren't they important?"
"What'sss a horssse? Isss it tasssty?" Euver asked, taking another bite.
"Er, I dunno. Never eaten one." Marche blinked, now wondering if a horse was in fact tasty or not.
"Asss for your quesssssstion, Chocobo are ussssed for lotsss of thingssss." Lunias shrugged, having gotten used to Marche's random odd questions and references to things he had never heard of in the short time they had known eachother. "Including food."
"Ah... Well, it tastes good so I guess that makes sense." Marche nodded after a moment, accepting the answer his friend had given. It seemed this world was a lot simpler in its reasoning for things. Like "if it tastes good, why not eat it?" He couldn't really refute that logic either, so he just went along with it and dug into his meal with a final comment. "Still, this place is awesome if it has natural spicy barbeque flavor..."
(-)
Ramza sighed, staring up at the ceiling of his room as he laid on his bed. Since he had been banned from being a judge, he had no reason to leave the mansion. Which left him with the constant potential to come across the people he didn't want to see, especially since he still hadn't figured out what was true and false. His other memories seemed so real, so horrifyingly real that he didn't want to doubt them, and yet his mind kept telling him they were fake. The fact that his brother's were alive proved that they were fake. Which meant that his love for Alma was also fake...right?
He shuddered at the thought. Love did not lie, at least, that's what his father had told him. But what could he do? The blonde man growled to himself, slamming his hand against his bed in irritation. What in this world was wrong with him?
'That's it,' Ramza thought to himself, 'I need some fresh air.' He quickly moved to his door, glancing at his desk for a moment, noting the grass whistle that had been in that bag that had brought his misfortune. Smiling to himself, he grabbed the whistle, along with the ring that was right next to it, before existing the room. He knew exactly what he was going to do, something that he knew would calm him down. He snuck his way through the mansion, fully intent on avoiding everyone he could. Especially those that would trigger an unwanted conversation.
Finally, with much side tracking, he had made his way outside. Glancing at the orange sky, he noted that he had missed supper again, seeing as the sun was just beginning to set. He wasn't in the mood to eat anyway. It would probably be dark by the time he made it to the place he wanted to go, but that wasn't an issue to him.
After making his way out of the city, he finally found himself in a grassy plain, which had two rivers running through it. Giza Plains, the field he spent his childhood running around in, according to his memories of this world. His memories of that other world also had a field very much like this one, where he had spent much of his childhood as well. However, there was one key difference in the memories, now that he thought of it. He did not have that one friend in this world.
"Delita," He muttered, remembering the name of the boy in his memories, and later the man who had made his way to become king. Ramza wondered if the man truly existed now, or if he was just a creation of his imagination. Sighing, the judge sat down on the ground, bring the grass whistle to his lips, and began to play it, as he always had when he needed to calm down, when he needed to think.
He sat there, playing a song he didn't remember learning in this life, in this world, but played it so perfectly, so beautifully that it couldn't have just been made up on the spot. Finally the song came to a stop, and he felt the calmest he had ever been in a long while. Why hadn't he done this before? Why was it that he couldn't remember ever coming to relax in these grassy plains, but could remember many occasions doing the exact same thing he did tonight in his other memories?
His thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of grass being crushed, as someone walked towards him, getting closer and closer. He looked up towards the source, mouth dropping in surprise as his sister appeared before him, wearing the same comforting smile she usually did. No...it wasn't the same smile. It was different.
"I see that you came here too, huh?" She said, continuing to smile. He immediately closed his mouth and nodded. Why could he still not talk to her? Could he not accept the fact that she would not love him the same way he found himself loving her? "May I sit down?" Alma asked, getting another nod in response.
The blonde woman took a moment to sit, making sure to adjust her dress accordingly while doing so, before crossing her arms across her knees. Ramza attempted to ignore the emotions from the other-memories, giving Alma a pleasant smile that faltered somewhat. Now that he was confronted with her, he really had no idea what to do. He couldn't even act normally... There was something about that smile that bothered him though. There was something different about it, but he couldn't place it in his flustered state. Coughing as he realized he'd spaced out for a moment there, he turned abruptly to stare at the plains and get his mind off his sister as best he could.
"It's beautiful out here, don't you think?" Alma commented after a moments silence, enjoying the atmosphere.
"Yes..." Ramza nodded, actually taking note of that fact once his sister had pointed it out. It really was a beautiful place, and fairly peaceful. He recalled playing with her in this field when they were younger, though he couldn't tell if most of those memories were from that other life in another field or this one. Probably both.
"I wonder when the last time we both were here was..." The girl mused, tilting her head at him in a cute manner. When had she started doing that, too?
"Not for a long time..." He nodded, closing his eyes. How he wished to tell her... But if she didn't remember, what would he do? He was certain she didn't, she hadn't gave any indication she did... The image of her oddly different smile came to his mind, and he frowned. That was wishful thinking, probably. It was all in his head, just like those fantastically real memories. Sighing, he opened his eyes again and turned to Alma, who was quietly admiring the scenery. She looked... Serene, Beautiful. He opened his mouth to speak, but paused as a glimmer caught his eye. Turning his attention to the source, he spotted something that made his mouth dry up and chest tighten. There, glittering in the rays of moonlight, was a ring that matched the one he had found on Alma's finger.
"Alma..." He swallowed nervously before continuing. "Do you..."
"Do I...?" Alma repeated, seeming confused by his mannerisms. Or at least, he thought she was confused. He couldn't quite identify it, but confusion seemed close enough.
"Do you remember Altima?" The blonde man finished, casting his gaze to the side in order to avoid looking at Alma. He couldn't bring himself too, not if she didn't remember.
Alma's breathing seemed to stop abruptly for a moment, before being released in a relieved sigh. "Of course I remember, Ramza."
The Judge's head turned to face her so fast he heard the wind from it, but he didn't care. Alma remembered? Then, that meant she loved him too... The relief he felt at that moment couldn't be put into words, surpassing any other feeling he could recall having. Which was funny, in a way, that this gave him more fear and relief than staring down a demon-god. Sighing, he smiled, wrapping an arm around the girl before pulling her closer. "I'm glad..."
The Beoulve daughter smiled back, before leaning closer and giving him a peck. "I'm glad too..."
(-)
A loud roar echoed across the Giza plains, shocking the reunited couple out of their sleep. The male instantly stood up, before helping the lady up as well.
"I can't believe we fell asleep here," Ramza said in disbelief, scanning the darkened plains as best he could after just waking up. His eyes still needed to adjust to the lack of light, noting that they only had the light of the moon and the stars to go on. He also noted that it was rather cold out, feeling slightly glad that the monsters had woken them up.
"Yes, but it's too late to regret it now." Alma commented, also glancing around for the source of the noise. "That came from a panther, right Ramza?" He thought back to the sound that had woke them up, and nodded, recognizing it from the many times he had come against them in what he now considered his true life.
"Thought so," she said, raising her right hand forward. Slowly a card began to materialize out of thin air in front of that hand, which grabbed onto it as soon as it formed. Pulling her arm back, she held the card at the ready.
"Alma! You're still being trained! You can't possibly take them all on!" Ramza yelled, panicking at the thought of his love getting hurt. She wasn't nearly ready enough to take on multiple enemies as this world's Alma.
"It's not like we have a choice. You're still sealed, so I'm the only one who can use Judge cards, as limited as those might be." The girl stated with determination. The blonde man couldn't really argue with that. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually won an argument with his sister, in both lives.
"Judge Law: Self-Defense. Judge Sword - Activate!" The card glowed brightly as it began to change shape into the form of a sword, firmly settled in Alma's hand. Another powerful roar sounded over the plains, followed by a few more lesser roars. Soon, the forms of several panthers appeared through the darkness. There was one blue panther, followed by two yellow ones. A small pack, and likely no problem for a proper team, but a sealed Judge and a Judge-in-training was not a proper team.
Alma and the panthers stared each other down for several moments, the blonde woman taking a defensive stance, before one of the yellow ones ran forward to attack. Alma shifted to the side as it lunged, letting it barely pass by her, before catching it mid-leap in the back with a downward swing, sending it tumbling across the grass on landing. The other two monsters let out roars at that, before both charged forward to attack while the other was dazed.
Hurriedly, the Judge-in-training stuck her hand out again and summoned another card before grasping it with two fingers, stating the usual speech of "Judge Card: Stun!" and throwing it at the remaining yellow panther. The card attached to the beast's surprised face, before it fell over mid-run as it's body locked up and refused to heed its commands. Alma smiled at her successful use of a card in battle, but didn't have time to celebrate as the large blue panther reached her and lashed out with its large clawed paws.
She managed to block the first strike, the force behind the blow nearly knocking the sword out of her hands, and the second strike that made her arms vibrate along with the sword, but was unable to properly deflect the third blow - which sent her guard wide open and the judge sword knocked out of her hands where it fell to the ground with a thud a few feet away.
"Alma!" Ramza moved to intercept, sprinting forward in order to hopefully push her out of the way. He managed to do so just in time to send them both to the ground, claws rending the hair just above their heads. Thinking quickly, he rolled across the ground to where the fallen Judge Sword lay, hefting it up as Alma scurried to her feet and prepared another Judge Card.
The blue panther, believing the girl-hume the lesser threat now that she was weaponless, turned its attention to the boy-hume and let out another roar. Ramza acted on pure instinct, instantly forming a card in front of his now outstretched hand.
"Judge Card: Stop!" He yelled as the card obeyed his will, soaring at high speed towards to azure panther, attaching itself to the forehead of the beast. All function of the beast completely came to a halt, even what little thought processes the creature had. Stuck mid-run, separate from time, the panther could do absolutely nothing as the man now charged towards it, Judge Sword in hand. The sword came down upon the poor panther's head, cleaving it in half.
"I see. So I'm not sealed anymore." Ramza said, grinning, while his sister looked at him in shock. "That makes things much easier." Tossing the sword towards Alma, he once again held his hand towards the other two panthers, forming two cards. This should end it easy enough.
"Judge Card: Teleport!" He yelled, the cards instantly seeking their targets, and in a flash of light, the two remaining panthers disappeared. He honestly didn't care where he sent them, only that they would be far enough away that they wouldn't be able to hinder them as they made their way back to Bervenia Palace's surrounding city.
"How were you able to do that Ramza? I thought you were sealed." Alma asked, confused as to what happened. Quickly walked over to him, picking up her sword along the way before making it disappear.
"I'm not sure myself, yesterday morning I woke up and found that the Green Card was completely gone. I had completely forgotten about that though, until I found myself using the cards on impulse just now." He still didn't know how it had happened, however, he had a clue as to what might have caused it.
"We'll worry about it later. We should probably head back now, before anything else happens." Ramza said, grabbing Alma's hand as he began heading back to the city. "However, I can't say our brothers will be pleased that we stayed out so late."
The walk back was completely without incident, leaving the reunited couple to walk happily together while they still could. Once they reached home, they would have to hide their relationship from everyone.
(-)
Clan Ivalice Snowmen, the name Marche had managed to get Lunias and Euver to go by after getting them interested in the sport known as Hockey, were on the move to complete a new mission. They were heading for Nubswood, to deal with some Con Artists reported to be stealing money from people around there. The team, consisting of Lunias, Marche, and Euver, would normally be considered badly understaffed for such a mission. But, the three were a step up from the ordinary rabble that took these kinds of jobs. The friends chatted as they walked, until coming to the edge of the wood, and the lone human of the group waved a hand to get the two Bangaa's attention.
"Alright, this is it." Marche grinned, feeling pumped already despite the battle not even being in sight. "The guys we're after should be inside, so try to be ready in case they set a trap up or something."
"Hmph." Lunias grunted, taking a step inside the woods. "Keep in mind who the amateur is here."
"Hey!" Marche objected, following after the bangaa as he moved further inside. "I'm just as good as you guys are! Probably even a little better at some things!"
"Better? I don't think sssssso." Euver piped up.
"Oh yeah? At least I can sssssay thingsss normally!" The hockey player retorted, earning him a growl and a punch in the side of the head from Lunias and Euver.
"Making fun of how we ssspeak isss a easssy way to get beaten up." Lunias commented, though the small smirk on his face showed he didn't hold a grudge over it.
Rubbing his head, Marche winced as he felt a forming bump. "Okay, Okay. Didn't have to hit me that hard..."
"Isss the poor Hume too fragile to play with the Bangaa?" Euver chuckled, earning another indignant cry of "Hey!" from their companion.
Their travel and banter was interrupted suddenly, as Lunias stopped and put a claw in front of Marche to halt him as well. Squinting, the Bangaa frowned. "I sssaw sssomething, up ahead."
"Probably our mark." Marche grinned, pushing Lunias' hand out of his face. "No point standing around, let's just go get them!"
That said, the hume took off, the two bangaa following right behind him. In his mind, the best plan of action was to attack as quickly and as hard as possible, which would give them no time in which to try and counter. Jocks weren't very well known for their strategies, and as one, Marche once again had no clue what he was setting himself up for. He weaved around the trees with a grace that belied both of his Bangaa partner's impression of him, both of them falling behind the blonde man.
Finally Marche made it to a small clearing and saw his targets. Without bothering to look around, he charged towards the first one in view, drawing his sword. The element of surprise was on his side.
That's what Marche believed to be true, until he found his left foot being pulled up with an alarming rate. He only managed a quick yelp before he was completely lifted off the ground, dropping his sword in surprise.
"Well, well. What have we here?" A hume said from below him, wearing quite the grin. There were four other people there, another hume, a Moogle, a Bangaa and a Nu mou mage from the look of it. Marche struggled against the rope, pulling himself up in order to try and undo the knot around his foot. Unfortunately, the knot didn't loosen at all.
"Poor fool, charging into the unknown like that. Really, you should know better if you're going to come after us!" The man wearing the metal helmet said confidently. If only he had not been caught in this trap, he would have showed them a real fight.
"Let me down from here!" The blonde man yelled twisting his body, hoping to get loose of the rope. He needed to hold onto his weapon next time.
"Nah, I think I'll let you stay up there. Besides, it'd be good target practice." The man in the straw hat taunted, showing his bow to emphasize his point. Marche cursed under his breath, staring at the group defiantly. Not only were they con-artists, according to the mission, but they were quite full of themselves. Where the hell were Lunias and Euver?
Suddenly the blonde found himself falling to the ground as the rope connecting to his foot snapped. It was a good thing that man with the bow was rather unprepared, thinking that it was safe to stand under him while he was tied, because Marche fell right on top of him, receiving much less pain than the man below him. Acting quickly, he grabbed his sword and stabbed the man with the bow before any of them could react, and then backed away. Now that he knew what he was up against it was probably better to be a bit more cautious.
What had caused his sudden release from the trap revealed itself a moment later, a dark skinned woman with a pair of long rabbit ears notching another arrow stepped out from the cover of the trees. With a tilt of her head in his direction, though not taking her eyes off the Con Artists, she spoke in a calm and precise manner to Marche. "Leave, I will take care of this."
Marche blinked at the virtual order, before shaking his head and getting ready to fight. "No way. I don't run from fights, and besides, it'd be pretty lousy of me to leave a girl all by herself to fight off these guys. Especially after helping me out of that trap."
The Viera frowned, repeating herself in a slightly more commanding manner. "Leave. You will only get in the way."
"Don't act like we're not here!" The leader of the con men shouted, irritated at being ignored. "Nobody is going anywhere! We'll be the ones leaving after we take all the gil you have!"
The remaining criminals readied themselves, just as a flash of light signaled the appearance of a Judge and their Chocobo Mount. Raising a hand, the Judge spoke in a particularly grandiose manner than usual. "Since both sides are ready for Combat, I shall announce the law! For this battle, Combat Law: No Techniques will be in effect!"
"Whatever, let's just get this over with!" The Moogle Thief commented, the others in his group nodding their agreement, before moving to attack their two opponents - With exception to the Nu Mou, who hung back and began chanting. Marche ran forward to meet his enemies, and the Viera let loose an arrow into the shoulder of the Bangaa - who unfortunately didn't seem very bothered by it.
Considering the number they were up against, and the disadvantage they were at, Marche didn't even try to hold back, utilizing all of his knowledge of hockey violence. Going for the smallest first, he tackled the Moogle thief to the ground, locking the poor creature's arms with his feet before he bashed his head with the pummel of his sword, effectively knocking it out. By that point, the fighter was upon him, blade aiming for his midsection. Marche winced as the blade cut into his armor, and cut at his side.
"Ouch!" He yelled, as he punched the man in the face with his free hand. The man staggered back, growling as he readied his sword for another strike. The man acted as if he was going to charge, but stopped and jumped away from Marche, which confused the blonde greatly. Why would he do that? He was wide open.
It was then he started to feel unimaginable pain that most people he knew would not survive. He was getting struck by lightning! He could barely think straight anymore as magical lightning ran through his body, and he fell to the ground twitching. Was this the magic Lunias and Euver spoke of? This world was not a joke, as he first thought it was. Hell, despite the few battles he did have, he wasn't sure if this world of fantasy was completely real.
"Get up!" The Viera from before yelled, shooting off another arrow, this time aiming for the fighter that was about to go in to end it. Sure he wouldn't be dead, not while the Judge was there, but the lack of a distraction would be pretty bad. "Get up or we will lose this!" She yelled again, notching another arrow while he struggled to get up. This wasn't looking so good.
"Thissss issss what you get for russssshing ahead," a familiar voice with a Bangaan accent stated, followed by a clang as weapons clashed together. Lunias smirked as his claw covered hand had caught the fighters blade easily, before wrenching it out of the man's hand. The Bangaa ducked under the desperate punch that came afterwards, before delivering a slash with the claw weapon across the man's torso, forcing him to clutch the wound in pain. The opposing sides Bangaa came up behind Lunias, preparing to deliver a double-handed blow to the back of the head, when Euver came rushing in and struck the off-guard white monk in the side with a well-placed flying shoulder tackle, sending the two several feet away.
Lunias grinned as he "gently" knocked out the injured fighter, turning to Euver as he curb stomped the dazed Bangaa. "Good timing, Euver."
"Russshing in hasss itsss benefitsss if you do it at the right time." The other responded, clearly referring to Marche's abandoning of strategy entirely. Anything further, however, was disrupted as a ball of flame came out of nowhere and struck Euver, sending him tumbling with a roar of pain to the ground.
"Such amateur behavior." The Nu Mou responsible huffed, before quirking an eyebrow as he got a look at Lunias. Those markings looked familiar, though he was having a hard time recalling just what they were. It wasn't anything common, but it wasn't meaningless either... Snapping his fingers, the black mage pointed at the remaining Bangaa with a sneer. "You're one of those cursed ones from Ahli, aren't you?"
As soon as the word "cursed" had left the Nu Mou's mouth, Lunias' eyes narrowed to practical slits and a deep growl emanated from his throat. Clenching his hands tighter than he probably should have, the Bangaa hissed out a response. "There is no curse! That was a lie!"
Marche blinked, turning to Shara before asking. "Er... What's this about a curse?"
Shara regarded him for a few silent moments before speaking. "The curse of Ahli. Rumors say those from the Jagd Ahli are cursed, and the magic of that place destroyed itself. Those who survived Ahli refuse to acknowledge this, however. Most were said to go into a rage, more rumors saying it was the effects of the curse."
Euver, meanwhile, was pulling himself to his feet and glancing worriedly at the other Bangaa. The Black Mage, however, just laughed as he prepared another spell and responded to the denial. "Deny it all you want, Cursed Bangaa, but that Tattoo is a marker of your status as cursed. The kingdom wouldn't go through such an effort for no reason."
As soon as he finished speaking, the Nu Mou finished his spell and a diamond of ice began to form above the enraged Lunias. The White Monk pulled his fist down, before thrusting it up above him and causing a compressed burst of air to smash into the ice spell, shattering it before it could be completed. The shards burst into blue puffs of magical energy, harmlessly dispersing moments later. Grinning in a not at all pleasant manner, Lunias stepped towards the black mage and prepared to beat the surprised Nu Mou into paste.
"Luniassss! Ssstop!" Euver yelled, rushing to the best of his ability to his friend, attempting to hold him back from behind. However, he was no match for the angry Bangaa, who had no trouble getting out of his wounded friend's grip, and finally made over to the now quivering black mage.
"See, it is true, you cursed ones are maniacs, berserker maniacs!" The Nu mou taunted again, despite his fear. If things went well enough, the Judge would stop this before he was killed, and send that cursed one to jail, never to be seen again.
"That'ssssss it!" Lunias yelled, hefting the Nu Mou up by his robes. In one quick movement he punched into the black mage's stomach with his clawed hand, yelling.
"Air Render!" The Nu Mou flew back, straw hat flying off in a different direction, and bashed his head into a tree before slumping to the bottom, knocked out. The Bangaa white monk glared at the fallen mage, his clawed hand trembling as he tried to force himself to stop attacking. Killing was not something he did. He was different from the others.
A loud whistle was heard across the forest, catching everyone's attention. Marche could only watch as the Judge rushed towards his friend's position with determination. This didn't look like it was going to end very well.
"Combat Law Infringement: Use of Technique," the Judge stated, a red card forming in the his raised hand. "Go to prison!" He thrust his hand forward, letting the card go and seek out its target. Despite being just a card, Lunias seemed to react as if it were one of the most painful things in the world. Marche gasped as Lunias, his friend, burst into light and disappeared completely.
What was going on? Did Euver and Lunias forget to mention this aspect of the laws to him or something? Still, it didn't seem right. "Why did you send him to jail? What did he deserve to go to such a harsh place?" Marche asked, forcing himself up into a kneeling position, trying to stand up.
"He disobeyed the law." The Judge spayed emotionlessly. It seemed that the Judge cared nothing of reasons behind such actions, or the fact that the con artists were the ones in the wrong in the first place. It didn't really make any sense to him... But arguing over it would probably just get him arrested as well. The Judge took no heed of any of this, however, and raised his hand. "Victory, Ivalice Snowmen and Guest."
That said, the Judge vanished without another comment, leaving behind a frustrated Marche and Euver. Shara observed the thing silently, but also feeling that the situation was unfair. Seeing the look on the hume's face, the Viera offered a comment. "You can get him released, if you go to the prison and pay the bail fine."
Euver nodded at the statement as he made his way over, ignoring his wounds. "Ssshe'sss right. We ssshould make for the prissson and get Luniasss releasssed."
Marche nodded. He couldn't just leave his friend there anyways, even if it wasn't simple as paying a fine. "Yeah... Let's go then! Lunias will get mad if we just hang around while he's sitting in jail."
"If you don't object, I'd like to accompany you." Shara spoke up. "You did help out, after all. It's the least I can do to see your friend freed."
"Eh? Alright I guess." Marche shrugged, turning to the Bangaa. "That alright with you, Euver?"
"Sssoundsss good to me." The Bangaa agreed. "Before we go, though, we ssshould turn in the missssssion completetion notice. The money will help us pay the fee."
"Good idea." The hockey playing youth nodded, rubbing his sore side a little. They could always get patched up after springing Lunias, but that injury was going to be annoying until then.
(-)
"I see you have decided to be present once more, Ramza," Dycedarg stated, stroking his goatee before he went back to eating his breakfast. Ramza merely glanced across the table towards his eldest brother, shrugging. Since when did Dycedarg care about him? Any memories he had of Dycedarg involved them barely regarding each other, or fighting each other.
Deciding he didn't need to respond, the youngest male Beoulve continued to eat his breakfast, which he wasn't even sure was real. Scrambled Chocobo eggs were good and all, but given how this world wasn't real, he was beginning to feel unsure if it was safe to eat. However, he still had memories of this world, where he grew up to be a Judge. Based on that, and the past few days he survived, the food was probably safe enough. Damn paranoia.
He glanced over at his sister, who was busy eating her own meal slowly, as was befitting noble ladies. She looked over to him, and flashed him a loving smile, one that he recognized from their days in the old world. Ramza smiled in return before he focused on finishing his meal. Even with Alma at the table with him, he still couldn't stand the presence of the other members of his family, and his gut wrenched at this horrible mockery.
He stood up without saying a word, pushed his chair in, and left, not even saying a word to his father. He was going to do something about this mess, and the whoever caused this situation would pay dearly.
(-)
Ramza had retreated to his room, and was currently trying to think up some plan of action that didn't have a good chance of making enemies of the entire fake-world he was in and ending up biting off more than even he could chew. So far the only thing that came to mind was simply leaving, which wouldn't really accomplish much in and of itself. He was jerked out of his thoughts by a light knock on the door, and he scooted his chair back in order to stand from his position in front of his desk. A short stride over to the door, a twist of the handle, and the young judge found himself face to face with his sister - Who quickly entered and closed the door behind her.
"Ramza... Are you alright?" Alma asked, worried about how the blonde man was handling this. His silence and near-refusal to acknowledge the... imposter-family or whatever they were... meant he was having some difficulty dealing with the strange change to their world - Literally and figuratively.
"Yeah... I'm just trying to sort things out." He responded, attempting to seem more cheerful for his sisters peace of mind. He took a seat on the edge of his bed, thoughts briefly drifting back to how unnerving it was to be faced with almost exact replicas of his deceased family members.
"Ramza..." Alma sat down next to him, before leaning in and giving him a peck on the cheek. "You don't have to keep things bottled up around me." She gave a giggle, adding on another comment. "Besides, you're a bad liar."
Ramza chuckled sheepishly, slightly embarrassed at the fact that Alma always seemed to be able to see right through him when he was trying to hide things from her. She was right though, he wasn't like he was alone in this - And it wasn't fair to act like he was to Alma. Nodding, he gave a sigh as he tried to find the words to express himself properly, and to get Alma's thoughts on what they should do. "I know it's hard on you too, but, I just can't help but remember facing Dycedarg and learning all the terrible things he did. To father, to Zalbaag, he even tried to do things to us. To be honest... I want to run him through just on seeing his face. But then, there's these other memories... He wasn't the most kind brother then either, but..."
Ramza trailed off, finding it hard to speak more about it. His sister still continued to smile, supporting him in her own way, placing a warm hand on his trembling one. It had quite a calming effect on the young judge, and he smiled slightly despite his earlier anger and pain.
"Ramza, I couldn't imagine what it was like to kill both our brothers, even if it was justified. But now you have a chance to be with our brothers again, and try to make better memories to replace those horrible, scarring memories. At least, that's how I feel about this situation." Alma rubbed the back of his hand, doing her best to soothe the man she loved. It was something she had become very good at over the years they spent together.
The blond man nodded, finally understanding why she wasn't breaking apart like he was. If that was the case, he had an opportunity that would be foolish to pass up, and in the end, he would be better for it. It would be hard, very hard, especially when it came to Dycedarg. His character hadn't changed all that much from that of the old world, but Ramza was going to give it a shot. He owed Alma that much.
The judge then pulled the younger girl into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "No matter what the issue is, you always seem to be able to break me out of it."
"Of course!," Alma said, grinning widely, pushing the boy back. She lifted up her left hand, and pointed at the ring that was on her ring finger. The ring that he had given her. "This ring represents an unbreakable vow to support you no matter what. I would not allow myself to wear it if I couldn't do that much." She then leaned her head onto Ramza's shoulder, sighing contentedly.
"I seem to recall that the ring had another meaning as well." Ramza stated, smirking mischievously.
"Nope, there wasn't," the girl responded, not missing a beat.
"Oh really?" Ramza eyed her suspiciously. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Damn," The judge cursed, snapping his finger in defeat. Alma just leaned in more, wrapping her arms around his chest and closed her eyes.
(-)
Marche blinked once, before responding to the outrageous number he'd just been told. "It costs how much? You could probably buy a house or something with that kind of money!"
The Bangaa behind the counter simply shrugged. "That'sss the cossst of bail for your friend."
"That's totally unfair, though!" The hockey player jabbed a finger at the clerk in an accusing manner. "I heard people before us paying for bail, and it was way cheaper than that!"
"That price isss for criminalsss..." Euver added, having recognized the cost, frowning as he got an idea of where this was heading.
"Criminalsss, or other dangerousss individualsss." The clerk nodded. "Your friend isss a berssserker of Jagd Ahli, thatsss why hisss bail isss ssso high." The Bangaa glared down from his desk, not particularly enjoying where this was going. He would probably have to get the security in here to drag away a few of the rambunctious guests.
"So what? That other guy started it! He didn't just randomly flip out!" Marche objected loudly, Euver nodding his agreement. The people behind them in line were starting to get antsy, either seeing where this was headed or simply wanting to complete their business here and leave.
"Thatsss the bail. Either pay it, or leave. I don't care which." The Bangaa responded harshly, growing irritated with this prolonged discussion. If they didn't get the hint, he'd just get security to throw them out before they could blink.
For several moments, Marche looked like he was going to protest again, but eventually sighed. "We can't afford it... So I guess we'll just leave for now... We'll be back though! C'mon Euver, we need to figure something out."
The addressed Bangaa nodded, giving a final glare at the clerk, before following after Marche to the exit where the Viera they had run into on the mission prior was waiting. Seeing that the two were returning alone, the Viera sighed and correctly guessed what the problem was. "His bail is too high?"
Marche nodded, but determinedly headed out the door with the other two following after. "We'll get him out soon."
(-)
A small, yellow covered figure sprinted quickly through the dark, stone-covered streets of the Moogle trading town; Bugaba Port, his cape flapping as his small legs carried him. The Moogle theif quickly rounded a corner, leaning against the wall as he leaned slowly back, looking for his pursuers. He sighed in relief, not spotting any of the group of beings that were chasing him, and continued on his way. One of his small, furry hands went to feel the small pouch that was tied to his waist, making sure it was still there. He couldn't lose, not after all that had happened.
Suddenly he found himself bumping into something that was definitely not a wall, especially considering the metallic sound it let off. Completely off balance as he was, the Moogle fell down to the ground, and shook his head in irritation before looking up to see the offender. One of the Mog Knights that was chasing him before now stood over him, a grin spread wide across his white face.
"How?" Was all he could get out before he was hoisted onto his feet by the Mog Knight that had just appeared behind him. This made no sense! He checked for them, and didn't see them. How did they manage this?
"You shouldn't be so surprised! Kupo!" Came the voice of someone the Moogle Theif knew, and saw another Moogle, the leader of the group chasing him walk out from behind the Mog Knight in front of him.
"After all, we run these streets. You had no chance of escaping us in the first place." The Moogle smiled wickedly, snapping his fingers. As soon as the sound was heard, both Mog Knights drew their blades, just waiting for the next order. "Besides, you're wearing yellow. Only the blind wouldn't see you." The two Mog Knights chuckled at the remark.
"Now why don't you just make this easy and hand over the Gem. Kupo! It'll easily pay off the debts you owe."
"I can't do that, Kupo! It's the only memento I have from my father!"
"Musty, Musty, Musty. Didn't you know? Everything belongs to the boss. You owe him your life. Kupo!" The leader shook his head in disappointment at the younger Moogle. Clearly the thief didn't know his place quite yet, and would need to be tought a lesson.
"Hold him there, boys. I'm gonna show this upstart what happens when you don't pay the boss his dues," The leader said, walking closer to yellow clad Moogle, grinning mischievously at the fearful face before him. Balling up his hands, he got ready to hurt the poor fellow before him.
His hands moved out in a flash, grabbing onto the antennae sticking out from the Moogle's bandanna, and pulled. Screams of agony followed, as the leader continued to pull harder and harder, while his man held the poor Moogle in place. Finally, after a minute of pulling, whatever held the antennae to the Moogle thief's head lost its will to continue fighting, and let go of its attachment. The leader laughed a bit before tossing the red-ball tipped antennae to the ground while the restrained moogle continued to scream in both pain and shame.
"Going to give up? Next will be much worse for you. I guarantee it." He said, his lackeys grinning as they continued to hold the tortured Moogle in place. Musty looked up to the leader, and spit to the other Moogle's foot.
"Go get eaten by a Bangaa. You'll get nothing." The leader only continued to smile. He loved it when his prey played hard to break. It made his job so much more enjoyable.
"Turn him around boys. The real fun is about to start." The men followed the order, and turned the Thief around so his back faced their leader. Musty struggled, worried about what would happen to him. This wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to have been caught. But no matter what, he couldn't let them have his father's treasured gem. Not after all he went through to get this far.
"Now just hold still Musty, this won't hurt a bit! Kupo!" The leader said. Then Musty started to feel tension on one of his wings. 'No! They wouldn't!' He thought to himself, trying to look back to see, but failed. And then he screamed louder than he had before when they ripped off his pompom. They really were ripping off his wings!
Giving one last tug, the leader had successfully ripped the wing clean out of his poor victim, grinning maniacally. "Did I say it wouldn't hurt? I meant it was going to hurt like no tomorrow, Kupo!" The poor thief gasped, trying to ignore the pain from the wound left behind from the ripped off wing.
"You do know that those Bangaa's treat Moogle wings as a delicacy right? We can't very well just give them one, kupo! No time to rest!" The lead Moogle said, before beginning to tear out the second wing. The pain was as unbearable as before, but at least it distracted him from the pain of the already missing parts. Not a very beneficial distraction he supposed. Once that wing was fully out, the two Mog knights threw him to the ground, and stood over him, waiting for their next command. One of them decided to kick him, and pressed his foot against one of the open wounds on his back, forcing Musty to let out another scream.
"Now Musty, we don't really want to do anything else to you, Kupo!" The leader said, pulling out a jagged knife. "But if you don't cooperate, we might have to take more off of you. I hear those hume females just love the feel of Moogle fur. Kupo!"
Musty glared at the lead Moogle from his position on the ground. Nothing was worth getting skinned for, that he was sure about. Even his dad's gem wasn't worth that much. Getting two his knees, he reached his hand into the pouch that held the gem. He pulled the orange-red gem out, and raised his hand above his head.
"If you want it so bad, you can..." And he stopped in his movement to throw the glowing gem to the ground in hopes of breaking it. Suddenly felt as if he had just gone through...a whole different life! One as a hume? It seemed so strange to him. To live as two different creatures?
Were these his memories of a different life? No, that wasn't right. They were definitely his.
The other three Moogle's stared at the thief for a few seconds, shocked that he would try to throw the gem at the ground. When he stopped mid-throw, the didn't know what happened. Finally, the leader looked to his subordinates.
"What are you waiting for, Take the gem from him! Kupo!" He said, pointing. They nodded and went down, grabbing his arms in order to force the gem from his hands.
Finally realizing what was happening, Musty panicked. He couldn't lose it...the Zodiac Brave that Ramza had trusted him with. He needed to do something! He needed his gun, or maybe a sword...or maybe...that. The stone in his hand began to glow brightly, engulfing the Moogles in its orange-red light. Finally, when it dissipated, both Mog knights found themselves holding on, barely, to a giant metal man shaped being.
"Wh-wh-What the heck is that? Kupo!" The leader yelled in shock as he stared at the colossus that had just replaced their prey. "Where's that coward Musty!"
Red eyes beamed to life, towering high above the Moogles - Though it wasn't truly that much taller than a full grown hume, although much wider. Mechanical gears clicked and turned as the things stance straightened, pulling the Mog Knights off their feet and dangling in the air as it lifted its arms up.
"SYSTEMS ACTIVATED... LOGS OF RECENT EVENTS MISSING... MACHINEST MUSTADIO CONFIRMED OPERATOR." A mechanical voice boomed out from the helmeted head, which cast a shadow over the machines face and only let it's eyes shine through. "SITUATION... HOSTILE?"
The end of the last statement ended up as more of a question, as the robot known as Worker 8, or just 8 in some cases, took in the apparent assailants. "MOOGLES... NON-THREAT."
"Like hell they aren't!" A voice interrupted, coming out of a crude voice pipe originating somewhere in the chest and leading to a small opening on the side. "Those 'Non-threats' ripped off my wings! AND my antenna!"
"...MACHINEST MUSTADIO DID NOT POSSESS THOSE ANATOMICAL PARTS ACCORDING TO RECORDS..." 8 responded, still confused. "WILL ATTRIBUTE TO UNKNOWN MAGICAL ANOMALLY DETECTED EARLIER."
"Anomaly? Nevermind, let's teach these guys a lesson first and then we can talk about whatever is going on!"
"AFFIRMATIVE. GRANTING OPERATIONAL CONTROL."
The Mog Knights had since let go and taken a good distance away from the machine, their boss hiding somewhat behind them. Lifting it's arms above its head in a intimidating pose, the voice they recognized as Musty's rang out once more.
"Normally I don't really like beating up on weaklings... But you guys really deserve it. So, how about a good dose of karma!"
Before the Moogles could flee, the machine reached out with a surprisingly swift lunge, the metal hand enclosing around all three Moogles at once and uncomfortably squishing them ever so slightly together. Well, slightly for the machine. To the Moogles, it was kind of hard to breathe. The other hand rose up to hang above their heads, near the brightly colored pompoms of the three - The Mog Knights' ones were red, while the leader's was Purple.
"There was this saying, something that Church used to spout all the time."
"YOU ARE REFERRING TO THE PHILOSOPHICAL TEACHINGS OF GLABADOS, SPECIFICALLY THE PHRASE 'DO UNTO OTHERS AS YOU WOULD HAVE DONE TO YOURSELF.' ARE YOU NOT?"
"That's the one! Good memory, 8. Well, you heard him. And you guys haven't been very nice to other people."
That said, the free hand clamped down on one of the red pompoms, and slowly but surely tugged on it with deliberate care. For two reasons, one being that a quick jerk would probably take their head off with it, and the other because it'd hurt more that way. The Mog Knight who had been picked first let out similar cries of agony as he himself had not long before, until the antenna broke off. The same happened with the next Mog Knight, and the leader started to sweat and struggle in vain against the solid metal grip pinning him to his two subordinates.
"Please, Kupo! Musty, anything else! I couldn't show my face to the boss if you did that, Kupo! I'd be lucky to just get thrown out!"
"Tch, what happened to the tough and smooth guy? I haven't even hurt you yet and you've cracked." Musty sighed from inside the machine. "If you wanted mercy, you should have shown some!"
Done speaking, the hand clamped down on the final pompom, and slowly tugged it off. The leader, in a somewhat karmic twist, screamed and cried the loudest any of them had, and had completely given up his attempts to struggle free. Satisfied that he had gotten his vengeance, Musty dropped the three Moogles roughly on the ground.
"I should probably rip your wings out too, but I'm not as cruel and twisted as you are. Call me a sap, I suppose."
Finished speaking, the sound of gears and the hiss of steam sounded as the chest of the machine unlocked, falling open like a door to reveal a blonde hume with a ponytail dressed up in thick clothing similar to that of a blacksmith. Seeing the astonished looks on the Moogles' faces, he shrugged.
"Believe it or not, it's still me. Sorta. Anyways, you guys get out of here. I don't want to see you messing around with anyone again, got it? Or 8 and I will finish that proverb."
The leader stumbled to his feet, still sobbing pathetically, and hurried away into the distance. The two Mog Knights, however, stayed put, causing Musty to raise a eyebrow in confusion.
"What? I said you can leave."
The two Mog Knights looked at each other, before nodding and standing up as straight as they could manage.
"We... Don't want to go back, Kupo." One explained, the other picking up where he left off. "We're just muscle, Kupo. Without our pompom's, nobody will want to hire us, Kupo. We'd be lucky to even be left alive, Kupo."
"Oh, right. I forgot about that." Musty nodded, putting a hand to his chin in thought. As he was thinking, a bright light engulfed him and 8, shrinking down into the shape of a Moogle - Sans pompom and wings - once more before dying out. The Mog Knights blinked once more, surprised again. Musty hadn't noticed, still having a paw to his chin in thought, before nodding. "Okay, you guys can come with me. I need to figure out whats going on, and I could use the help."
Shrugging off their continued confusion, the Mog Knights nodded energetically. "Thank you, Kupo!"
"Well then my fellow Mogs, I guess our first order of business is to get ourselves an Airship. Kupo!" Musty proclaimed, grinning a bit.
"...I don't think any of us has the money for that. Kupo." One of the Mog knights said.
"Also, who would sell us one considering we are all lacking our pompoms?" The other questioned, feeling confused.
"Who said we were going to buy it? We are going to steal it!"
(-)
JSB: I know this took a while to get out. We thought of going over and fixing a few things. However, it's been almost a year now, and we haven't looked at it. So we might as well post it as it is. Sorry for the wait.