Child of the Brave
1. Red Chocobo by the Gate
Young Aster was five and full of spirit. Not knowing his origins did not spoil his character at all. If anything, his ambiguous beginning made him stronger. His contagious integrity shown through his liveliness construed from the heavy bond of his friendship with two other children his age. Their names were Eliza and Joseph.
Aster spent most of his time with the two, mastering sports and playing games. He was the one who came up with the reenactment of Father Samuel's short pieces on The Lion War. Aster would play the role of Ramza Beoulve. Eliza would play Agrias Oaks and Joseph would play Cidolfas Orlandu. To make it more realistic, the children sported wooden swords and made up catch phrases.
"Be gone Evil Altima or I, Ramza, will… make you be gone!" Aster had shouted in the churchyard.
Eliza let out an upset squeal. "That's not what Ramza would say! Try again!"
"Alright." Aster paused for emphasis. Then, in as deep a voice he could muster with his small throat he gave a short bellow, "I am Ramza and let it be known that I destroyed Altima and brought peace to Ival—"
Aster suddenly screamed as someone behind him took him off his feet and covered his mouth violently.
"Never, speak of the name so loudly! Never!" Father Samuel whispered fiercely, glaring at the boy. Never did Father Samuel treat him so roughly. And so, Aster never played that game again.
Instead, that day, just as the sun was sinking behind the mountains, when he saw the red Chocobo at the gate, he was only playing "Heroes and Bandits." He was cutting the air with his wooden toy sword that was only the length of a full grown man's hand, as Eliza and Joseph chased him through town. The children stopped short in front of the church gate, where the red Chocobo stood, watching them. It was tied to one of the wooden posts that maintained the gate. It stayed put while its master was away.
"Oh wow. We have a visitor!" Aster gasped before catching himself. "I want to go see who it is!"
Pouts formed on Eliza and Joseph's faces. "But we're not done playing," they whined in unison.
Aster waved them away as he scampered up to the entrance. "Let's play tomorrow! I'm going home!" He stuffed the toy that was in his hand into the back of his pants, ignoring the scraping pain that it inflicted on his buttocks.
When his friends were out of sight, he started prowling around the entryway. Inside the church, Father Samuel had his back to him as he spoke in a whisper to a man by the altar. Since the sun was almost gone, the coming night engulfed the hall in patches of shadows. Aster could not see the man's face behind Father Sam's shielding figure, so he thought he could get a closer look if he snuck up on them.
Making his breath shallow, he crossed the floor on his hands and knees. Once he reached a table with a table cloth covering its legs, he ducked under it for safety of being spotted. For a moment, he waited, straining his ears to hear even just a piece of their conversation. He received nothing.
He made a huffing noise in irritation. Thinking he was not close enough still, Aster crawled out of his hiding place with his head bowed. Without looking up, he slammed into something hard and rolled back into hiding. His toy slipped from his pants, so he had to reach out and grab it before it got too far.
"Aster."
The sound of Father Samuel's voice completely halted the boy's movements. Gathering his wits, he numbly crawled back out. This time more slowly, his forehead made contact with not Father Samuel's legs, but the stranger's.
"Apologize, Aster."
Aster stood up hastily, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry I slammed into you, Mister. I did not know you were there."
The priest shook his head, but Aster could tell he was not wholeheartedly angry, for his eyes gleamed amusedly.
"That's quite alright," the stranger said gently.
Aster finally looked up at him and only saw a warm, young face staring back at him. The stranger was giving him a convivial smile, exciting the boy. Without thinking, Aster put out his arm, holding the toy to this guest. The man reached out and took the wooden sword from his little hand.
"What is it? A cross?"
"It's a sword! I made it!" Aster was a bit miffed even though he had only just met this stranger and still did not know his name. He had never been insulted by anyone the way this man had insulted him.
"It is!" He pronounced proudly, pining over the boy's good side. "You are a fine craftsman and this is a fine craftwork."
Aster puffed up his chest. Staring straight into the dark face hidden in a shadow he said, "It's yours. It will protect you in battles if you know how to use it."
"Thank you, Young Aster. I shall cherish it forever." With that said, the man placed the item under the breast pocket of his traveling cloak.
Seeing the man leave, made Aster's spirit plummet to his stomach. He wanted to go with him and ride his own chocobo.
End Chapter 1