3. MEMORY

Vaan woke up early this morning. In fact, he barely slept last night. After a quick breakfast, which did not content any trace of starfruits in his delight, he left hastily for the Sandsea. The reservation he made yesterday devoured his 1,500-gil prize and beyond. It gutted his pocket. He had to look for a hunt or two to compensate for what he spent. Another reason was he jumped up a bit when he saw Penelo, so it was better not to meet her until the date.

He scratched his head as he perused the billboard. Nothing exciting, but he had to get one or two hunts.

"What made you so craved for a job?" asked Tomaj, standing next to him with his arms crossing. His face looked grim. He wore his typical brown vest, not the fancy leather and metal, in absence of the choking scent.

"Gotta make up for what I spent at Elissar," he replied not taking his gaze off the board.

"Elissar? Meant the restaurant?"

"Um," he nodded, surprising at the barman's strong reaction.

"I tried to book a table the day before but it was full till next month."

"I got lucky someone cancelled their table."

"And a date with Penelo – lucky devil!" cried Tomaj with resentment in his voice.

Lucky? Vaan did not see things this way. He would not have been here if that shorty did not rob him of a half of the prize. "Hey, Tomaj, tell me when you see anything interesting, wouldya?"

"You can trust me," he blinked, "say how are your little em – your little guest?"

"You meant Larsa?"

"Hey," he hushed, "don't say his name." Vaan winced as he continued. "He's been coming here every day ever since, y'know, sitting upstairs waiting for someone. He even asked me to put a note here."

Vaan followed his finger tip to a beautifully handwritten note saying: 'I'm waiting for you.' It piqued his curiosity. If he find this 'you', Vaan could quickly say Larsa goodbye for good. His head tilted slightly. Now he recalled Larsa never told who it was or what business he had with that person. Whoever he was, he seemed very important. His mind was running through possibilities. Al-Cid? If Al-Cid was proven to be missing in Rabanastre, it would be quite a scandal, but this was too poignant to be a message to Al-Cid.

He swiped his nose. Nothing he can do if he even did not know who he was. Thus he left the Sandsea, but he did not make home. He was wandering around gathering information of hunts and treasures until he found himself at Central Plaza. Standing before him was a statue – a monument, to be precise. They rebuilt the fountain and added a statue of a man. His hair poured down past the shoulder hiding half of his face. The lifeless eyes looked down on his.

Vayne Solidor…

Under his feet inscribed: 'In memory of our beloved consul whose soul wholly devoted to peace and his people' which Vaan raised a frown upon. Red flame of a Galbana lily was burning under the inscription. Who might think of putting such noble flowers under his feet?His face turned red; his whole body hot as if it was real flame burning and spreading to him. He leant forwards and seized the flower. For a while he was just standing still looking at the flower in his hand. The calming scent of the lily answered his gaze. He whirled around, made his way to the north of the city, where the War Memorial located.

The War Memorial was a wide plaza lined with bushes and palm trees. In its heart rising a soaring pillar with a goddess statue on top. He rolled his eyes upwards to find her arm raising to the sky. On the hand a white bird was taking off. Vaan headed off upper right of the pillar. Two years ago they built a Nalbina Wall on the northeast of the memorial. The site was chosen to face in direction of Nalbina fortress.

Nalbina Wall was a giant ebony flagstone placed to stand in vertical position. On the wall engraved names of soldiers who died in the battle of Nalbina. He caught a sight of a small figure putting a Galbana on the base of the wall. Standing nearby him was Penelo. She said this morning that she would be giving Larsa a tour around the city, and here they were.

Vaan found himself laughing softly. Penelo heard the noise and turned to him.

"Vaan!" cried she, and then Larsa also turned to look at him.

In his arms were more Galbana lilies. A black ribbon was tied around each stem, just like the one Vaan was holding.

"What a coincidence," Larsa said calmly. They walked near to him, but then Larsa stepped back and grabbed Penelo's arm as he sensed a rage in Vaan's eyes. A rage that they did not understand.

"Are you okay?" asked Penelo worriedly.

"Why–" he mumbled at first, and suddenly it broke into a shout, "why don't you just leave this city and let us alone!?"

Vaan whirled and ran away in their bewilderment. Larsa kept gazing at him until his shadow completely disappeared in the distance.

"Um, Larsa-sama, please forgive him," Penelo excused disconcertedly, "we lost too much, you know."

But what could she justify? The war was over three years ago, and there was time Vaan seemed to let bygones be bygones.

However, Larsa just smiled solemnly in reply. He knelt down before the wall and put a flower down. "'Tis something that I am the one to blame," he said gazing at golden letters on it. His gazed was wandering until it anchored to a name that seemed odd. It did not have the golden paint like others, and appeared to be carved after varnishing was done. It read: Reks.


Run, run, he kept running away. For how long, he did not remember. He just knew that when he finally stopped, threw his back against front door of a mansion with Galbana lily flower beds. The stem of the lily on his hand was broken.

Big bro…

He heard sound of the latch lifted and moved aside. The door opened and a man stepped out with watering can in one hand and pruners in the other. He was going to do his daily chore of tending the flowers when he found Vaan in front of his house with absent gaze.

"Vaan!" he called out and startled him, "I didn't expect your visit this early."

He had second thought and added, "what are you doing here?"

"Well, I…"

It was embarrassed to be found in front door of a friend's house and had nothing to say. Fortunately Fidal had grown temperate and thoughtful after the war. He welcomed his presence and did not ask much on how and why he was here. Actually, he was not his friend, but his brother's friend and mentor. When his brother enlisted near the end of the war, he was put in charge of Fidal.

Vaan sat on the doorsteps while Fidal was pruning flower bushes. He glanced quickly at the poor flower in Vaan's hand.

"Visited the War memorial?" asked he in low voice. Vaan nodded.

"Still think about your brother?"

Vaan did not reply; he just gazing down the flowers.

"I know you must feel terrible for what happened. I didn't believe he was a part of the king assassination either. But it's time to put the past behind and move forwards."

He was executed for that, and his name was erased from the Nalbina Wall. It was not just a baseless belief; Vaan knew that his brother did not involve. Even there was no assassination, it was just a trap set by Vayne Solidor to fool people into believe that Captain Basch slain the king by using Captain's twin brother. All was to advance into Dalmasca. However, Vaan had proof of his brother's innocence – a witness, to be precise. Basch is alive. If only he did not have to live under his brother's identity – Judge Magister Gabranth – to protect Larsa. Protect Larsa? Who the heck is Larsa?

"Whatddaya think about the rumor? The rumor about Larsa. Is it true he might not be the emperor's son?" asked Vaan, unable to hide his discontent.

"That," he replied, curious at how Vaan always called the present emperor of Archadia by his name, "was dismissed. He showed proof of his lineage."

Then he stood up bringing his gardening tools along heading inside.

"But is that proof true enough?" Vaan rose up.

"If you ask my opinion," he paused, "it looks like he prepared it in case his legality was in doubt."

"Now, my friend, would you like to have a drink with me inside?"

Vaan agreed and followed him inside. The mansion was surrounded with a lovely courtyard. He sat on a small gazebo sniffing wonderful perfume of a garden of flowers and trees. A few hands were tending the plants and greeted Fidal and him. Galbana lilies, eskirs, irises and onions – luxuries not enjoyed by most Dalmascans. Fidal went inside the house and came back with a tray of water, coffee and fruits. When he had recovered himself after the run, Fidal challenged him to a sword fight, a friendly one. Before he got under way, he usually crossed his sword with Fidal and learnt a lot from him. What he learnt was proved to be useful for his adventures.

Fidal took his ox stance; Vaan deployed it as a chance to attack. But the former soldier man made him pay for his haste with a leap and a cut on his wrist. It was purely a practice therefore the swords were not sharpened and Vaan was wearing his gauntlet; still it gave him a sharp pain. He stepped back swinging his sword, he made a mistake in underestimating Fidal. Now he more focused. Attacks, parries and void a slash faster than eyes could follow; only clash of steel signed that their blades touched each other.

The duel would last longer if Fidal's arm was not so hurt that he could not hold the sword tightly. It slipped from his grip when he tried to make an awkward parry, and next think was Vaan's blade tip inched away his throat. He accepted his defeat with a smile: he was overestimated his arm choosing a long two-handed sword instead of the usual saber. They both gasped. It took them seconds to say something.

"Nice swordplay," Fidal remarked rubbing the pain in his right arm.

"You too," Vaan replied. He knew that if it was not for an old wound, which reduced strength of his arm sharply, his win would not be easy. Actually, he might not win at all.

Fidal glanced at his right arm, feeling that he was really old, though he was just in his mid-twenties. The War had deprived him of numerous things.

"Say, Vaan," he hesitated; it was unusual of him to be uncertain, "would you like to go for a hunt?"

A wolf hunt he said, then finally explained that it was not a real hunt. He planned to go investigating a site in Westersand. The thought of a hunt with him was enough exciting to agree; an investigation unarguable.

Vaan borrowed a long sword as he did not want to rush home to fetch his sword, while Fidal armed with his saber. The heaviness of the sword of Order of Knight laid uneasy in his hand.

They made haste to West Gate. There they waited for a friend to come. Vaan did not like waiting. He grew impatiently and kicked a pebble.

"Look like we came early," said Fidal, "sorry for making you have to wait with me, but it can't help. I could not let him wait."

Fidal stepped forwards when he saw a man approaching them. With his both hand on the left of his waist he bowed and scraped before a man approaching them. A full Dalmascan bow, though Vaan did not realize the man, he seemed important.

He nodded at Fidal in reply. His eyes surveyed Vaan quickly. Fidal immediately responded his glance with an explanation, "he's a friend of mine. We can trust him." He turned sharply to Vaan and introduced, "this is Lord Revenas, and he is the… leader of the investigation."

"He appears familiar," Lord Revenas paused, his forehead rested on the finger tip, "was he with Ashe?"

"Yes. He escorted her majesty from the Sky battle."

He glanced at Vaan once more. "Let us go."

Three of them made a most queer crew. Revenas's clothes somehow resembled a Bhujeban Parijana except for weird long slit sleeves while Fidal contrasted with him in similar Dalmascan soldier amour, and Vaan looked like a wayfarer in his foreign wide-collared shirt.

Nevertheless, they grouped together and made their way through giant gate in the west, escaped the city to Westersand. Vast field of golden sand spread to the horizon. Heat surged skywards from dry, bare sand. Vaan started to regret wearing his shirt. He looked at Revenas in curiosity. The wind fluttered his sidelocks of which half flowed straight and half in braid on each side. They will be mistaken for four little droopy ears if his ear was not clearly seen behind them. His white hair was tied up contrasting to Fidal's short dark hair. It was rare for a hume to have purely white hair like viera, like clouds, very eye-catchy, especially when put in contrast with his nicely tanned skin.

"So, what's this trip about?" he asked after they had been far enough from Rabanastre.

Fidal glanced at Lord Revenas; he nodded in approval. "You know that after we signed the Peace-Treaty with the Empire, the Imperial forces began their withdrawal. Their retreat has been completed two years ago," Fidal started to explain, "However, recently an unusual sight of active Imperial soldier had been detected around Westersand. So we decided to look into this matter."

Vaan stunned at what he heard. Did Basch and Ashe acknowledge this? He staggered after Fidal. They were heading to the west sand dunes.

On their way, Fidal and Vaan hunted two wolves and hauled them along as the pretext of going to Westersand. Fidal was glad that he asked Vaan to accompany them. His youth and vigor was helpful, and if something happened to him, it would fall on him to protect Lord Revenas.

Clang of metals wafted in desert hot air. The Imperial black amour could be easily perceived from distance among creamy sand. They hid behind a tall cliff observing. It was a group of a dozen of Imperial swordsman and two magi. The Imperial magi walked slowly mumbling a sort of magick words.

"What're they doing?" Vaan wondered out loud.

"It's no business of yours, I'm afraid," said a voice from behind.

Soon they found themselves surrounded by Dalmascan soldiers. A man dressed in slit-sleeved vest standing upright. "This is the last place I expect to see you," he continued with a gleeful sneer, "for what business High and Mighty Lord Revenas has here, I was wondering?"

"We're here to hunt wolf," answered Fidal; Vaan held a wolf high in front of him to emphasize.

"Been to near border to Ogir-Yensa Sandsea just to hunt wolf? You don't think I'll buy it, do you?" he glanced at Revenas who neglected all this talk and still gazed out at where the Imperials left.

"Let us return," said Revenas finally after a long contemplation, "nothing more to hunt."

"Don't you dare act superiorly to me!" he shouted; his fist clenched, "you're Lord Chancellor no longer!"

The former chancellor glanced back as if he saw the man and Dalmascan soldiers for the first time. "What are you hindering me for?"

"Yes, Jeopas, there's no official rule restrict our presence here," Fidal followed.

"Do not call me by the name," he shouted at Fidal transferring all his fury in one shot, "call me Master Clerk."

Revenas shoved his prominent chin forwards signaling them to go.

"Wait!" the clerk of chancery shouted after them, "something I want to enquire. Won't you give me your cooperation as a citizen?"

They could not refuse the request and had to follow them back to chancery office in Rabanastre. The soldiers swept them into a small room consisting of a table and some chairs. There they sat and were interrogated. Most of the questions revolved around why they went to Westersand and what they witnessed there.

"Like I said before, we've been there to hunt wolves," Fidal repeated. This was his fourth round. At first, Vaan supported Fidal in his story and gave a few exclamations of irritation and protest. But they fell on deaf ears; it was useless talking to them. He could not believe this happened when he was in Dalmasca. He threw his arm skywards and shook his head in disbelief.

Jeopas, the clerk of chancery, was glaring at Revenas furiously. What it took to escape from this unpleasant situation was just words from the former chancellor. Yet he did not say anything, not a word, from the beginning except for a request of a cup of coffee with eskir, which had been brewing for hours. Vaan was both admired and annoyed at his taciturnity.

They had been kept occupied for how long? Vaan could not tell. There was no window; he could not even tell if it was noon or night already.

Jeopas grew more and more impatient at Revenas's silence; finally he could not stand it any longer. "Revenas, you –"

Fidal stood up, steeling himself for the wrath, but suddenly the door opened. A man stepped into and interrupted them.

"Folge?" Jeopas whirled around in surprise, "I think you're at the castle…"

"We'll talk later," he turned to Revenas, "my sincere apology, Lord Revenas," then to the guard, "attend Lord Revenas outside."

Revenas had already stood up and walked towards the door. "I owe you one."

"No, please don't. It's my requital."

They walked away in Jeopas's scorching gaze. His face was red with fury, yet he said no word and let them go freely.

Vaan felt like forever since the last time he gazed upon the sky and breathed the fresh air of freedom. Dusky sky welcomed him with last light of a day.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this," said Fidal holding their game up, "how about me making up for it?" He called out to Revenas, "Lord Reve, would you care for a dinner with us?"

They had dinner together with hands of the mansion in the long dining table overlaid with white linen. That was the best meal of wolf that Vaan ever had. After dinner, Lord Revenas hastily retired, despite Fidal's effort to hold him back.

"Why does he still refuse to move back to here?" a man blurted as he was cleaning the table, "Lowtown didn't serve as home for his Lordship."

"That's something you won't want to mention again," Fidal advised.

"Wait, I thought," Vaan whispered to Fidal, "this is your house?"

Fidal could not hold his laugh and chuckled, "no, no way,"

This was the estate of House Conrad. His father was killed in midst of war while Revenas was held in Bhujeba. After the war, he came back Dalmasca reclaiming the mansion and his title of the head of chancery. But for reasons which Fidal would rather not to mention, he dwelt in Lowtown instead and allowed them to stay in his mansion.

"My house was taken in the war," said Fidal, "well, that occurred to almost everybody here."

"So what happened to his title?" asked Vaan, "I meant…"

You're Lord Chancellor no longer! He recalled what that man shouted.

Fidal hesitates at first, but in the end he offered Vaan a glass of Dalmascan Barose wine and slowly unfolded the tale.

Six months ago the Emperor of Archadia was attacked while staying at Rabanastre. He survived the assassination attempt; soon they caught the assassin. Things were going well, and suddenly the queen declared that Lord Revenas was under suspicion of involvement in the assault and stripped his title during investigation despite lacking in decisive proof.

"Do you think there's any way to…"

Vaan took his last sip of wine, tasted the floral sweetness lingering in his tongue. Now he saw that Fidal hoped he could persuade Ashe to revoke her decision. Though they might be friends, he did not wish to involve in these politic stuffs.

Fidal perceived the fluster in his eyes. "Sorry for the mess," he apologized again.

"No, it's fine. I think it's time for me to leave."

Fidal saw him to the door. He was an amiable host and friend; Vaan felt bad for unable to help him. Maybe if I have chance to chat with her…

The night breeze caressed his hair. He looked up the ever-changing sky: now bright then dark. He drifted home with a mind roaming in clouds. In his lethargy, Vaan vaguely remembered something. He had something very important to do, but he could not name it. Whatever it was, four bells told him he had to save it for tomorrow.

"I'm home," he said with not much expectation anyone would answer him.

But to his surprise, Larsa still awoke and looked at him in relief. "Vaan-san!" He rushed to his side and studied him. When he confirmed that Vaan was unhurt, he grabbed his arm and hauled him out. "Penelo-san is worried about you."

"What's with Penelo?" he asked; brows furrowed in bafflement.

Soon Larsa's delight changed into a frown. "Don't you dare tell me that you forgot your rendezvous with her," he reproved.

It woke up his memory, and he recalled his date. Larsa dragged him along the way to Elissar; his grip was so tight that Vaan felt irritated. He tried to break the hold and found Larsa was stronger than he expected. He struggled and pulled his wrist free in the second try.

"W-What's the matter?" he asked, lunged at his hand but Vaan swung his arm away to avoid.

"What's your problem?" he shouted; a tad too hot in his tone. He walked on slowly and continued with more reasonable voice. "I know what I'm doing."

"Should you be mindful of your doings, you won't keep her waiting for you," he countered, "now go and apologize to her. Never make her worried again."

"What right do you have to ask me of this?"

"Need I privilege to ask you of common courtesy and respect?"

"It has nothing to do with you."

Oh my, thought Penelo as she gazed down from the balcony of a private room in Elissar. She thought as she could feel intense heat between the two men. Let them continue and soon the quarrel might transform into a fight. She rushed down in relief of the restaurant waiter. She felt sorry for causing troubles.

It was a brewery of delight and dismay, of luck and jinx. She was waiting for Vaan at Elissar as they had arranged. She wore an elbow-sleeved, fitted top and soft pink skirt. A lacy veil draped around her shoulder. Migelo suggested she dressed formal to her first date; she did not really get what he meant by 'first date', since she and Vaan had dined together numerous times, but she heeded his advice anyway.

Hours and hours, bells and bells, and Vaan had not showed his face. She started to worry if something happened to him, but a more alarming thought crossed her mind: What if he forgot our meeting? It was no surprise if he did; it was not the first or last time. But if she left and he came, not seeing her, it would cause unnecessary worry. Moreover the thought of coming back to see Vaan laying on his bed, having completely forgotten their date was too awkward. She did not know what to do until the restaurant must close, and she must get back.

She bumped into Larsa strolling along the street outside the restaurant. He heard her concern and offered his help. Penelo would be waiting in Elissar while he went home to check if Vaan was there. The Elissar should have closed and she would have to sit in front of its door like a street urchin if he did not ask the manager to allow her stay for a while.

"Easy, Vaan," she ran towards and held Vaan's arm, "what happened?"

"Easy! Why don't you go and tell him to be easy?" he shouted pointing his finger at Larsa who was looking away in dismay, "you don't even know what happened."

Penelo was glad to see Vaan safe and sound but this… surpassed her imagination and ability. She flustered.

"C'mon, don't talk to Larsa-sama like that," she said seriously. Penelo regretted not starting her lesson of courtesy sooner, but better late than never. She just did not see it backfired. Vaan just was not in the mood for any lecture or advice. In her eyes, he read: 'apologize to him', and it was like casting Fire on an oiled chocobo.

"Larsa-sama this and Larsa-sama that. Know what? I'm sick of this!" he shouted and walked away.

"Hey, Vaan!" Penelo called after him, but Vaan did not look back.

He needed some fresh air and that was he did. Vaan was strolling around empty night street until he got full with serenity and space. He came back before the sunrise. Penelo would wake up soon and they could talk intimately. He owed her a sorry for the ruined date, but apologized to Larsa: Hell no! Sorry for what? For Basch having to be his judge or for the stupid statue of his brother Vayne Solidor?

He sat on the table on front room waiting. First light of day scattered through narrow slits and no sight of Penelo yet. Something stirred in his guts. He went checking her room. No sight of her either. Could it be she worried and was looking for him?

Vaan made to the door and right moment he touched the door handle and pulled, the door sprang open, almost slapped his face. The face of Larsa the pusher poked out with a smile. His hand held a paper bag of groceries. Behind him was Penelo.

"Morning, Vaan," she greeted him, and he answered with a nod. "I'll go prepare the breakfast," she said, came close to Vaan and whispered, "show him some respect."

Then she walked into the kitchen, let Vaan alone with Larsa for an intimate talk. Vaan sat down, and Larsa sat opposite him. His eyes surveyed Vaan quickly and he spoke.

"I must apologize. Last night, I overreacted."

And that was how the matter ended.