Purity Amidst Madness
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Chapter 7
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In the morning, things were a lot muddier. It had all seemed so clear on that night, watching the Holy Stones tempt Ramza and going to comfort him as I had. We hadn't said anything to one another, simply clutching one another for an indeteriminate amount of time before making our way back to camp, too embarrassed to speak the feelings we'd finally seemed to acknowledge. I'd bedded down in my blankets sure that in the morning, we could talk about things.
What a colossal fool I can be. I hadn't realized that last night had been special, not only for the way that it opened my eyes to what sort of man Ramza is and the sort of woman I am, but in the way it broke down the barriers between us and allowed us those moments of naked truth.
One look at me had Ramza's face bright red and the rest of him scurrying to find something to do on the other end of camp. I was too busy trying to hide the burning of my own cheeks to even begin to search for the words to express what we had exchanged last night.
Cid, the horrible man that he is, took a single look at the both of us and filled the clearing with his booming laughter.
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The lingering warm feelings from the night before were gone by the time we got to Gariland. Ramza informed everyone that they would have an hour to do as they liked, including one last chance to mail any letters that they wanted to mail before we struck out for Orbonne Monastery. We were to meet at The Golden Chocobo Inn when our time was finished.
It was then I realized I had nobody to whom I could write one last missive.
We were going to kill my fath- No, Vormav. Rofel, my former teacher, would get in our way and force us to kill him, too. My brother was long since dead at Vormav's hands. Any other friends I had were too casual to entrust with what might be my final thoughts.
Even Ramza, his family dead or captured, had someone to whom he could write. I wandered off alone, sitting at the edge of one of the city's many canals to stare into the water. The pop of a cork leaving a bottle interrupted my meditation, and I turned to see Orlandu settle down next to me with a soft sigh.
"You've got nobody to send anything to either, hmm?" T.G. Cid asked, oddly somber despite the grin on his face. He took a pull of the bottle, before offering it to me. I glared at the thing.
"It's not yet noon," I told him with an eyebrow raised. His smile just broadened, and I finally shrugged and grabbed the bottle, muttering, "Oh, why not..."
Whatever it was burned like brandy, but also chased that heat with a dry warmth I'd never had the misfortune of experiencing. I coughed, and the vicious old bastard sitting beside me carefully retrieved the bottle as he chuckled.
"Ordallian Rye will do that to you every time, especially if you just swig it like that! Has no one taught you anything, woman?" The old man asked with a grin, his eyes sparkling in delight.
"What, don't you have a letter to send?" I tried to hiss, but had enough problems keeping myself from coughing to put any real inflection into it.
"Not at all. The only person I care to send anything to is just as caught up in all of this as I am," Cid replied with a shrug, adding, "And he's met Ramza before: He knows the truth of the boy and knows what sort of man I am. My son already knows everything he needs to about the situation, and he's smart enough and tenacious enough to dig up the rest if we don't make it."
"You have a son?" I asked, one eyebrow raised. "What woman hated herself enough to marry you?"
"A wonderful woman who'd already gone through the pain of childbirth once and would have wanted nothing to do with it a second time, even had she the ability," Orlandu returned with a sad smile. "Olan's mother Theresa was a vile-tongued harpy of a woman, and I'd trade everything to have those five short years with her once more."
"I can't imagine how you managed to trick a woman into marrying you," I admitted, taking the bottle as it was offered to me. This time, I took a far more cautious sip. My head was feeling a little bit larger than it actually was, and I recognized that I'd have to exercise extreme care to avoid becoming drunk.
"It was hate at first sight, actually. She and a band of gypsies out of Ordallia were squatting on the land of one of Goltana's eastern estates, nearly twenty years ago, now. Goltana heard about it and sent a group of men to send them running, but they returned white-faced and speaking of magic beyond the pale of even a calculator in his prime, wielded by a woman tossing around time magic," Cid said, grinning. "Of course, that caught my attention. So I took a few men and checked it out."
"And?" I asked, passing him the bottle. He took a swig and offered it back to me, though I shook my head, declining the offer.
"Ever seen a dancer at work?" The cloaked man asked, quirking an eyebrow above a grin.
"You're a pig," I returned, frowning.
"Not like that," Cid returned with a mock-fierce glower. "The ones who are useful for combat instead of for withdrawing a man's money from his clutches without actually being harlots."
"Oh, I see. In that case, yes, I have. I still stand by my previous statement," I informed him after a short pause, grabbing the bottle and taking another cautious sip.
"Fair enough," Orlandu admitted with a chuckle. "Well, Theresa had a family skill that let her hit everyone for quite a distance. Not the weak dancer skills, either. She could combine the best magic of a Time Mage with the ability to hit all her enemies. When we got there, she and my men clashed a bit. I pulled them back before they could really go at it, and Theresa did the same."
"How come?" I asked, taking another small sip before passing the bottle back.
"I'd come equipped to deal with her time magic so she was aware that I'd be quite the pain to deal with, and I knew her people could get to mine before I could stop them all. It was a stalemate," the old man noted, raising the bottle to his lips then grinning and speaking instead of sipping. "We decided to settle it with talk instead of battle. She'd brought a bottle of rye much like this with her and soon into negotiations we decided to open it to help deal with the headache of what we were doing.
"I woke up the next morning with a wife, a son, and sixty gypsies who were making preparations to take up residence on one of my estates," Cid finished, chuckling before taking another swallow from the bottle. At my incredulous look, he shrugged. "She scared me, and I knew I'd have to take off the jade defense armlet some time. The fact she was quite the exotic beauty, even at her age, certainly helped."
"She had professional mediator training, didn't she," I deadpanned, causing him to chuckle.
"I'll admit that I didn't learn that until a year into our marriage. She told me it wasn't my fault I'd come poorly equipped to a battle of her choosing," Cid admitted with a final shrug, getting to his feet. He offered a hand, which I took. Despite knowing what he was capable of, he still surprised me with the ease with which he pulled me to my feet. "Are you feeling a little better?"
"I suppose I am," I admitted with a blink. I frowned a bit, thinking about what had gotten me into my sour mood in the first place. My next question was one of idle curiousity, rather than the resentment or jealousy it would have been a short while ago. "Do you know who Ramza is sending a letter to?"
"Ah, that. That one's simple... Ramza's sending the trio of Hokuten he has running all over Ivalice a note telling them where he's going and offering them the chance to refuse his latest bout of madness," Cid replied with a cheery grin.
"After everything, he's telling them they can just go home?" I demanded, incredulous. "Why would they even leave after everything?"
"He's made the offer to all of us save you, I expect," T.G. Cid informed me. "I imagine were anyone else but Vormav involved, he would have given you the same option. However, even he's not stupid enough to tell you you can just walk away.
"Even if he was stupid enough to make the offer to Agrias," Orlandu added, my head snapping to him in surprise. I could well imagine how that conversation went.
"Did she yell at him?" I asked, grinning a bit.
"Of course not," Cid scoffed. After a pause, a grin fought its way onto his face. "Though I will admit that for someone who has never trained as a monk, Agrias has an absolutely beautiful punch. Had Lavian not taken pity on the boy and cast a Cure spell, he'd have a perfect example of a black eye right now."
"I imagine everyone else had a similar reaction?" I pondered, following the cloaked man as we made our way through the city.
"I do believe young Mustadio put it best: 'Ramza's not allowed to finish things without us, otherwise the history books might actually believe he could have done it by himself'," Orlandu quoted, chuckling. "Though I'll admit that I'll be peeved if the history books only mention my fighting ability and not anything else. There's far more to me than that."
"Like your raging sexism and rampant ego?" I asked, grabbing the doorhandle to the Golden Chocobo and yanking it open.
"You forgot my impressive sense of humour," the man replied with a smug grin, entering the building.
I followed, rolling my eyes.
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A short while later, our entire party was gathered in one of the inn's private rooms. Ramza sat at the head of the table, on his left side Agrias and her two knights. I sat to his right, as well as Rafa and Malak. Cid took the seat across from Ramza at the foot of the table, and Mustadio had opted to lean against the wall instead of pulling a chair from another room and sitting at a corner.
"The better to snark," he'd informed me. I'd scowled in response, but that hadn't done anything but prompt a wider smile.
"So..." Lavian began, resting her chin on the bridge of her hands, rolling her gaze to Ramza. "Do we have a plan?"
"We're going to attack the monastary with a frontal assault, smash any resistance, and kill any Lucavi who get in our way," Ramza said shortly, staring down at the map Alicia had drawn on the paper which now lay sprawled on the table.
"I think we were looking for something a little more concrete than that," Agrias noted bluntly.
"Fair enough," our blond leader admitted after a moment, jabbing his finger down at the map. "I expect an ambush here and here, though we're going to go in expecting a fight every step of the way. Agrias, you and your knights will be equipping robes instead of armour until we start running into Lucavi. I want you ready and able to heal anyone who gets hurt with magic to spare, got it?"
"He's so forceful when he starts planning, isn't he?" Alicia asked me with a broad grin, prompting a slight blush on Ramza's face and a more than slight blush on my own. The way the woman emphasized the word 'forceful' was simply indecent.
Not that she was incorrect.
"Mustadio, I want you to have both your guns ready to fire and within easy reach. Regular bullets for the fighters and magical bullets for the spellcasters," Ramza continued, recovering.
"You realize it takes me a second or two to reload, right?" Mustadio asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"That's why I bought seven more guns," Ramza noted with a grin. "Keep them loaded and within easy reach, and you won't have to reload between shots for a little bit. I've got them in an easy to reach holster, so I'll trust you to fire and discard as needed. Just remember to pick them up after the fight's done... Those contraptions you use to fight aren't cheap."
"Duly noted," the ponytailed engineer replied with a smirk.
"Rafa and Malak, you two will be hammering any opposition that comes close with your skills. Rafa, you'll hit the spellcasters and your brother will hit everyone else. Keep the blasts coming as hard and as fast as you can. We're going to be taking out any enemies we come across at range, so you'll have free reign to keep attacking," Ramza concluded.
"I take it myself and my newest apprentice will be shattering the weapons of anyone foolish enough to get within range?" Cid wondered, rubbing his jaw.
"Absolutely. I'd like both of you to focus on our enemy's weapons, since if they don't have their weapons they can't fight. Though if you see a monk or a mage, feel free to improvise," the Beoulve informed us with a smile. His face turned serious. "I don't know what we're going to run into in the monastery, so I'm going to be our wildcard. If Agrias, Lavian, and Alicia need help with the healing, I'll be casting priest spells. If I see the opportunity to hammer our enemies, I'll be among them.
"It's important that you keep doing your jobs, however," Ramza concluded, turning a stony gaze towards Rafa and Malak. "I don't care if I'm right next to a target. You two will keep hammering them with your skills, collateral damage be damned. I can take more hits than our enemies, and we'll have to take that chance when we fight."
"What about you?" I asked, more than a bit of worry entering my tone.
"That's why Lavian and Alicia will be focusing on healing," Ramza informed me. He sighed, leaning forward in his chair and resting his hands on the table. "I want to thank you all for agreeing to come with me. I know we set out just to stop the Lucavi, but they made it personal for me. And for Meliadoul, as well. The rest of you have nothing to prove by coming with us, but you are. I really appreciate it."
"As do I," I informed them, becoming uncomfortable as everyone focused on me. I pushed forward with the thoughts on my mind. "I've only known you for a few short weeks, which is nothing beside the years pretty much all of you have spent fighting together. However... You have made me feel like one of you, for which I am thankful."
In that moment, we were a family in everything but name. The warmth of every face around me and the dedication we had to our cause, it was inviting.
"Okay, so that's enough of the mushy crap," Mustadio said, breaking the mood. I scowled fiercely at him as Cid tried to hide a grin. He stretched with a mock yawn. "Alright, so we know how we're going to save the world. That's the boring part of the evening out of the way. Now I suggest we order some Romandan tequila and see if I can convince Lavian to try on the dancer's silks I picked up this afternoon."
We had a great many questions about why the blond boy had picked up a set of dancer's silks. Of course, some time into the evening when he actually HAD convinced Lavian to try them on, our questions were answered.
Exhausted and making my way to bed long after the sun went down, I smiled. Despite the tragedy we were walking into, despite the fact we were, one and all, fugitives, we could find some small measure of peace and enjoyment. In the midst of our soul-rending battle, we could still be a family.
Having lost my own, I knew how rare it was. Unlatching the door to the room I shared with Agrias and her knights and grinning at Lavian's passed-out form, still wearing the dancer's clothing, I made my way to my bed and went to sleep.
Tomorrow's worries could wait for the night.
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Author's Notes:
Regarding Orlandu, this back story was one I had in mind for him for a while. It explains how Olan has the broken Galaxy Stop ability and also how he's Cid's stepson while his mother isn't around. Speaking of which, simply having a stepson as a male in a world which is a rough analog of Medieval Europe's nobility is a large part of the reason I've made him so strange. While not completely unheard of, it was generally only women who inherited step-children in the nobility.
About the holy stones... My perception of the stones has never been that they're purely evil things, but that the person who wishes to wield them must be truly innocent and free from any temptation. Say what you will about most of the other vessels, but Weigraf has quite a few parallels to Ramza and he was converted himself. I really don't see Ramza being much purer than Weigraf, and I imagine the only reason he wasn't converted was because he still had Alma to worry about. The only good thing they do is bring back Malak, and the only "evil" thing Rafa wanted (Barinten's death) was already done.
