Throwaway chapter, ho!
8: Aboard the S.S. Liki
The S.S. Liki was standard as passenger ships went. Large enough for fare and cargo, but lacking the size of dedicated trading vessels. She was built like a tub, with a broad deck and wide body. Gentling tapering toward the stern, and abruptly giving way to the bowsprit at the bow, the sudden curves like shoulders beneath a thin neck. Her single mast rose up ahead of the stout bridge, which itself was crowned by an observation deck shaded with a solitary parasol. A pair of harpoon guns sat at the ready on her bow, awaiting the arrival of a suitable threat so they might be put to their ugly work. The sail itself was largely superfluous, as the vessel was chocobo powered. Still, it saved the birds some work and allowed an extra push when the wind was right.
Though not a small vessel, she was carrying enough passengers for it to feel as if there were many people on board. Most settled in for the voyage immediately, content to pass the time by relaxing. Others took out a blitzball and set to playing – the Aurochs followed suit, needing all the practice they could get. The summoner party was no different. The chances of anything going so terribly wrong as to require their intervention were negligible. Still, they were dedicated. At least two tended to remain on whichever deck Yuna presently occupied. Only Kimahri directly shadowed her. The rest hovered nearby, watching from a distance and out the corner of their eyes.
Once free of his shield and spear, Wardani had been quick to fish his pipe from its satchel and light a well packed bowl. Better to head off the inevitable anxiety that being cooped up in a confined space would bring. He had yet to get in a proper tour of the ship, and was content to take a load off for the moment. Leaned against the starboard side of the bridge, stood beneath a row of awnings, he watched the sea. The impenetrable expanse of bitter blue, concealing such deep and wonderful horrors. His thoughts casually drifted, wondering how much of his tobacco would be gone by the time they reached even Kilika.
"Spy anything?" A low query came from his left.
Wardani gave an infinitesimal shake of his head. "Waves," he droned, tone monotonous as the view. "Just.. endless, boring waves." He was beginning to sound strained, voice cracking ever so softly. Lulu followed the direction of his eyes, examining the horizon for herself. "Save for that black bit, that looks to maybe be an island." Wardani pointed with the stem of his pipe before biting down on it again.
"You seem tense." She noted lackadaisically, keeping her gaze forward.
"There's your nose again, planted firmly where it don't belong," Wardani gently rejoined.
"My, aren't we defensive." Lulu did not smile, her face remained perfectly poised – void of any tells as to her thoughts. "You ought wear your mask better."
"Oh, I do love when you come to pester me – really, don't get me wrong – but could you maybe stow it for now?" He shifted irritably, throwing his eyes briefly her way. They were narrowed rather scornfully.
Lulu put on a knowing smirk – just the tiniest curve of her lips – but said nothing more of it. "Luca will be difficult."
"Aye, that's a fair estimation," Wardani snorted. "You've got four of us versus throngs of roughly hundreds on all sides. Gods, there are so many ways that could go awry." Another fleeting glance her way. "Something the matter for you to bring this up now? We're still a fair ways off from Luca. Not even hit Kilika, yet."
"Planning ahead is prudent," came her peremptory answer.
"We've an accord there," Wardani grunted.
"Any thoughts?"
"Plenty, not a lot of them what you're looking for. Hell, I don't even want half of 'em!" A throaty laugh escaped past his lips. "I mean, the easy answer would, of course, be to just surround her like a living wall, but that's just a bit obvious, don't you think?" He leaned his head toward her, looking through his peripheral.
"A summoner is never inconspicuous, even one as restrained as Yuna," Lulu reminded. "That would hardly make a difference."
"Or so you think," Wardani said, not necessarily disagreeing. "Subtlety – though not my strong suit," he quickly forestalled her, "Is a terribly effective strategy, with the proper implementation. People may know who she is, but there's gonna be a lot of people at Luca. Big city, huge crowds. Even we could.. theoretically get lost in them. Long as we don't go around heralding her presence, we shouldn't have too much an issue. Thankfully I forgot my banners and trumpets."
"'Too much'?" Lulu repeated curiously.
Wardani nodded. "Dodging trouble entirely is impossible. I'd love if we could, but we can't. It'll find us, or we'll bumble into it."
"That has a ring of pessimism to it," she remarked.
"Are you saying the contrary, then?" Wardani raised one brow. "Having an eye for trouble doesn't attract unpleasantness. Only feels that way because you notice it more easily. Being observant hardly forces the universe to just.. fabricate a hindrance. Anyone who believes otherwise is frightfully confident of their own importance."
Lulu shook her head. "I was acknowledging your defeatist attitude."
"There you are, at it again!" Wardani exclaimed, throwing a hand exasperatedly into the air. "Speaking of fabricating, that is precisely what you're doing right this instant!" He vehemently accused.
"My, it is a touchy subject," she coyly descried, a sinister light in her eye.
"Aye, so quit pokin' it and be off!" Wardani shooed at her, hoping to be shed of her company. Lulu remained stationary, eyes transfixed. Wardani's glare hardened, and with an annoyed grumble he went back to smoking his pipe in the hush that followed. Movement out the corner of his eye had him turn his head. Tidus was moving aimlessly about the Liki's stern, looking for something to occupy his time.
"He is a strange one," Lulu stated. "I do not know who he is, or where he came from. Yet, there he stands. A mystery to us all."
"If you believe his crazy tale then he's from a holy city in the past!" Wardani's eyes widened slowly as he went, culminating in a sardonic laugh.
"I'm not sure whether to pity or hold him at bay." Lulu sighed, staring contemplatively. "He does appear to be harmless enough."
"That's what they all say, then suddenly your room's painted in a fresh new coat of blood."
"I regret Wakka bringing him along," Lulu began.
"The both of us, then," Wardani remarked.
She continued unabated, "Especially given why. A final chance at glory, and some scant resemblance to Chappu, right as Yuna's pilgrimage begins?" Shaking her head, "Neither bodes well."
"The kid in general doesn't augur anything pleasant. Wakka's ill-founded train of thought is hardly my concern, here." Wardani shrugged dismissively. "He's daft as a rock, but he'll come through when it matters. The blonde's a bit of a encumbrance, however."
"We mustn't let him get too close to Yuna." Lulu bluntly contended, treading further down that road. "Things will be difficult enough as is."
Wardani groaned. "All right, I understand wanting to keep some distance between the two of 'em. As you said, we haven't the foggiest who he is or where he's from. He's also young, furthermore stupid. Tack onto that the fact he's totally addlepated, and you've got one spicy recipe for disaster." He turned to her, face twisted skeptically. "But can you honestly, really look at me and say you think there's a chance of something developing between them?"
Lulu, cool as ice, met his eye. "It isn't an impossibility."
Wardani was flummoxed. "Oh, this is getting better by the day," he moaned miserably. Shaking his head he prattled on, "I know Yuna's a good girl and all. Very friendly with pretty much every soul under the sun, but... She knows that he's not gonna be around for long."
"Love isn't always a logical thing, Wardani," Lulu placidly explained.
Wardani huffed, a knowing shadow briefly passing over him. "Okay, so saying that they do: Then what? We.. allow it to happen? Wouldn't that be just a little bit.. cruel? More so when paired with the other goings-ons?"
Lulu's eyes danced about, focusing on nondescript targets. "I.. do not know."
Wardani went silent for a moment. He worked his mouth, obviously displeased. When it finally opened again, the words that spilled out – shockingly – were, "Neither do I." It was a difficult question. One of the hardest he could ask himself, for quite a plethora of reasons. She deserved so much better than what life had afforded her, yet it would likely never come to pass. She was walking a road of greatness – a path of legends, but it cost her what might be considered a proper life. Sequestered to a temple for hours a day, devoting her time to studying the Teachings and ancient magics. She was made a weapon, but something terrifically human managed to survive – and even thrive – amidst the grueling transition.
It hurt him.
It hurt them all.
"You should take the time to enjoy the game," Lulu suggested out of the blue.
Wardani was legitimately stunned. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He inquired rigidly.
"It's a silly thing, but this may be our last chance," she reminded somberly, yet without sounding disconsolate on the matter.
Wardani felt oddly subdued. He considered her point for a moment, wondering if it might be worth it. Chewing weakly on his pipe stem, eyes hazing over with thought. He made a noise in the back of his throat, rocking his head once in either direction. "Sorry, but I'm not too keen on the last of my few blitzball games being the Aurochs getting ground into the dirt," he scoffed.
"Do as you will," Lulu relented, looking at him one last time before wandering off, back toward the bow.
"My goddamn pleasure," Wardani grumbled under his breath. He settled back against the exterior of the bridge, focusing his eyes forward again. Glad to finally be at peace, his only troubles the ones wrestling around inside his own mind. He could honestly do without others coming to him with theirs. Just as he was beginning to feel somewhat pacified, Tidus streaked nimbly by, crouched on the side of the ship. Wardani blinked numbly, not quite knowing what to make of it. Slowly twisting his head, he watched as the teen proceeded to yank a pair of binoculars from a shipmate's hands and play with them. "Gorgeous lot we've been saddled with," he growled, brow creased in decided dissatisfaction.
With the binoculars pressed over his eyes Tidus could see far out over the ocean. A single island jutted rebelliously up from the water, but aside from that there was little of consequence. Gulls soaring as flocked silhouettes, the occasional breaching fin. Changing the focus, he turned back 'round to the ship. His vision swept until it caught a hint of black, and he stopped. Traveling slowly up Lulu's dress, his gaze hesitated on her cleavage, hesitantly raising higher still to her face. She turned his way, and he was quick to turn his eye elsewhere. The last thing he wanted was a thunderbolt falling on his head.
That was when Yuna appeared. Walking out from behind the port side of the bridge, tossing her hair. Kimahri was right behind her, ever attentive. He trailed her, eyes stuck on the summoner. She suddenly stopped, and to his astonishment she looked right at him. She waved, putting on a bright smile.
"Is your natural inclination just to cause trouble, boy?" Wardani snapped, jolting the teen's concentration. He fumbled, the binoculars slipping from his grasp. The battlemage handily snatched them out of the air, presenting them disinterestedly to the shipmate. The sailor thanked him and went about his business. "Playing on the side of the ship now, are we? That's a real good way of going overboard, and causing a lot of unnecessary grief for everyone else." An edge of malice crept steadily into his voice.
Tidus rolled his eyes. "Not much else to do."
"No, I imagine there's not. It's not a pleasure boat." Wardani reached up and roughly hauled him down onto the deck. "You haven't yet checked below, have you?"
"I'll get around to it," Tidus shot back defensively. He sounded like a kid swearing for the fourth time over they would get around to doing their chores.
"Oh, good to know," Wardani chuckled. "You'll probably end up sleeping over the bridge, then."
Tidus crossed his arms. "Any reason you keep following me around?"
Wardani sighed. "You know, I'm not really sure. Ever since our intellectually challenged friend over there dragged your ass home – then dumped you on me, I might add – I suppose I've just felt some sort of unremitting responsibility to make sure you don't do anything titanically stupid." He shook his head wearily. "Better I than another, honestly. You'd get less sympathy from Lulu, and Wakka hardly knows how to breathe so he wouldn't be of any help. What you need," he reached out and lightly smacked Tidus upside his head, "Is a good example."
"Yeah?" Tidus snorted. "Let me know when you find one."
Wardani rolled his eyes. "Oh, that's very good. You dredge that one up yourself, did you?" Exhaling loudly, he smoothed his thoughts, attempting to maintain possession of himself. "Like I said earlier, go and have a wander-'round. Talk to the good people. Learn more about the future, however you want to phrase it. Just do so. It may even keep you busy, and hopefully out of trouble. Regardless, it's a positive for me." He looked off past Tidus, toward the bow. "Believe me boy, I've got plenty of problems as it is."
Tidus frowned and turned around. Yuna was now at the very front of the Liki, a small pack of people crowding around behind her. They looked to be mostly chattering amongst themselves, and he did not understand why it was something that Wardani might have an issue with.
"Many problems," Wardani reiterated. His eyes softened, and he murmured, "It's her father, you know?"
Tidus looked back at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"
Wardani bit his tongue, and answered straight. "Ten years ago, it was her father – Lord Braska – who defeated Sin. Brought about the last Calm." He pulled his pipe out his mouth, checking the contents of the bowl. "I still remember that day, clear as if it were mere moments ago," he sighed. Haggard as he was, the man suddenly looked much older. "For fifteen years then Sin had been that.. great, horrid bogie ever a-nipping at your heels. Always right outside your door, and it didn't need you to open it. Anywhere, at any time.. no one was safe. Then one day it just.. was gone." He shrugged, an odd look washing over him.
Tidus could not imagine something like that. Living under the puissance of such a terrible monster. The ever present threat. "What about when it came back?" He asked, not considering his words.
Luckily for him, Wardani hardly minded the question. "Honestly, I didn't feel anything that day. When word first arrived Sin had resurfaced... I suppose my first thoughts were, 'Well, that's a shame. Back to work, then!'" He scoffed morosely, looking back at Yuna. "Everyone thinks she's gonna do it. And do you know why? Do you know the ugly, stupid reason why?"
Tidus shook his head, expression troubled.
"Because her father did it." He smiled, but it granted a dark appearance. Grim and angry, full of irony. "They can't judge her on her own damned merits, it's gotta be 'cause of her blood that she's got worth." He hissed in disgust. "I've been around her for almost a decade, and let me tell you: She's got the power to put Sin down by her own will."
That struck a very serious chord with Tidus. That was precisely the sentiment he had lived with every day of his life in Zanarkand after Jecht had disappeared. Tidus had dwelt in the man's shadow when he was alive, and still it shrouded him after Jecht had died. His attention returned to Yuna, having uncovered a whole new respect for her. A newfound sympathy. "Yeah. That sucks."
"Bit of an understatement, but even so," Wardani begrudgingly affirmed. He knocked his pipe against the hull of the ship, scattering the ashes of spent leaf into the waves. It would hardly do for a stray ember to set fire to the timbers if he emptied the bowl onto the deck. "Well then," he tucked the pipe away for now, deciding to give his store a rest, "Enough chatter. You'd best be off, hadn't you?" He pivoted, making back for his previous perch.
As the guardian turned, Tidus realized something else he had yet to ask. "Hey, uh..." The battlemage slowed to a stop, twisting his neck but not turning around. "What about food?"
"Galley's below deck, three meals a day. You'll know when to get some." He waved the boy off, eager to get back to doing nothing – as much as he honestly loathed to. "Don't dally for too long. You'll want to acquaint yourself with the decks below, aye?"
"Right, right," Tidus recited between his teeth. Just when he had been coping, Wardani managed to utterly ruin the moment. He was beginning to think the man possessed just such a knack – definitely a love for it. While a part of him said it would be smarter to head down already, something else was nagging him. What Wardani had said about Yuna's father had him thinking. He turned, peering at the girl nearly hidden behind her onlookers. Could that be the reason she became a summoner then, he wondered.
Working up his courage, he moved purposefully for the bow. The crowd actually dispersed well before he arrived. Yuna, and the two harpoons, were on a slightly raised level of the deck. A short flight of steps connected the two levels, and he found himself hesitating right at the foot. His throat seized, and his body suddenly turned rigid as a statue. He was perplexed, wondering what had overcome and rooted him. The realization arrived slowly, trickling down his brain in a webwork of gradually connecting thoughts.
He was nervous.
Yuna.. made him nervous. Something about her, some quality of her person or spirit rendered him next to an idiot in her presence. Never had he experienced trouble dealing with women. It had always been so natural. Striding right up to them, confident to the end, flexing his charm and status. Almost to the point that it became a routine. Yuna was different, though. She smote that easy assertiveness and poise, his fluent social grace. He was left in the dark, unsure of how to proceed – or if he even could.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw her turning around. She took one look at him, and a smile lit up her face. Just like that, he could feel the trepidation's grip weakening. Yuna took two short steps aside, giving him room to join her. His feet seemed to move of their own accord, carrying him carefully up the steps and all the way to the rope barrier. Her eyes were directed straight ahead, as if scanning for their destination out amongst the waves. He was at a loss for what to do.
As the tension mounted, Tidus raised his arms out to either side, stretching rather melodramatically. It did little to help, and his skin was starting to itch the longer the both of them stood there, engulfed in arrant stillness. He wracked his brain, digging for anything that might be a good opening line. Just something to break the ice, he told himself. That was all he needed. Even if it was completely idiotic, just something – anything – to make things less awkward!
The seconds ticking by were like hours, dragging their feet across the floor with each tick of the clock. The breeze cast his hair about madly, and for a moment he almost decided to say something about the weather. Because that would make a great impression, right? he thought derisively to himself. He was beginning to consider this a lost cause. The first time he had ever been felled by a girl, and it was the one who had the most profound effect on him. He glanced furtively at her, sighing internally. Maybe it was better that way. He could sense it. Just how enormously different they were – the vast distance between their.. well, levels he supposed. He was a blitzball player, and she was setting out to save the world. Yeah. Extremely comparable.
Much to Tidus' surprise, it turned out he was not the only one feeling anxious.
Yuna looked up at the clouds as they skirted by, buffeted by the wind. She wrung her hands, resolving not to allow the silence its dominance. "The wind.. it's nice," she commented in so low a voice he almost failed to catch it.
Tidus was stupefied. Dazed as if he had suffered a blow to the head, he dumbly nodded. "Mm." He nearly had to ask if that was really what he heard. It felt so impossible, that a girl like her could resort to such a simple observance. In some way they both knew. At that moment their mutual suspense dawned on one another, and they smiled. Then they laughed, and away went the terrible arresting ice. They kept on laughing 'til it hurt, until it slowly died down and faded away.
From their various corners, Yuna's guardians watched reticently. Each of their thoughts mirroring those of their comrades'. They knew it would be prudent to cut in, but seeing her laugh so sincerely stayed them.
Yuna tucked locks of hair, loosened by the aforementioned wind, behind her ear, jostling her earring. Confident that she was not about to allow another resurgence of noiselessness, she asked with honest interest, "You're a blitzball player, aren't you? From.. Zanarkand?"
Tidus winced. When she had commented earlier, he had assumed she was making a joke. No one else had yet to buy his story, after all. He knew his memories were real and not merely fantastic daydreams, but these people had no knowledge of what he had been through. They had not stood witness to Zanarkand's downfall. Now they thought it was some kind of holy city, however that had come about. By his reckoning, Zanarkand had been far from holy. He did not detect any condescension in her voice, nor skepticism in her eyes. For once, it was.. as if someone believed him, or at the very least was open enough to really hear him out – Wardani had, but his response had been.. mostly typical.
He chuckled awkwardly, "You, uh.. heard that from Wakka?"
Yuna answered in the affirmative.
Tidus turned around, seating himself atop the rope barricade, hands tightly gripping the line. "He doesn't believe me at all."
Yuna tilted her head considerately, pacing backward. She gave him an uplifting smile. "That may be, but I believe you," she revealed.
For the second time in a matter of minutes, Tidus felt a rug yanked out from under him. "Huh?"
The summoner looked down at the deck for a moment before her eyes swept up to the sky. There they traced out imagines from her imagination. Hazy pastel outlines conjured from thought alone, painting word into form as best she could manage. Hands linked behind her back, she smiled in her reflection. "I've heard that, in Zanarkand, there is a great stadium – grander even than Luca's – all lit up, even at night!" The breathy tone of her voice raised images of a child reciting captivating tales of fantasy. "Great blitzball tournaments are held there, and the stands are always full."
A basic enough description, but one that sung true enough for Tidus. Given what he had seen of Spira thus far, he discounted any notion they had a stadium on Zanarkand's scale. That, of course, begged a question that had his brow knit: How could she know this? If it had been a thousand years, then.. could stories have passed down with so much accuracy?
Taken suddenly by an aching desire for answers, Tidus pushed off the barrier, coming to within an inch of her. "How do you know that?" He asked, immediately worried he may have come off as demanding.
Yuna was only happy to answer. "A man named Jecht told me," she explained. "He was my father's guardian."
Tidus' knees buckled.
A pallor fell across him, and he almost toppled over. Yuna quickly caught him, evidently concerned. "A-Are you all right?" Her eyes scanned for any noticeable afflictions. Unnoticed by them, Lulu's vigilant regard darkened, and Kimahri's arms fell to his sides.
The spell passed swiftly, and left behind anger in its wake. Rising back up, with Yuna's assistance, Tidus stumbled backward whilst shaking his head. "Jecht!" He spat through clenched teeth. Turning back to the rope barrier, he took hold of it tightly, gripping it like he meant to tear it in two. "Jecht, Jecht, Jecht..." He murmured on, seething.
Yuna raised a hand to her lips, fingers loosely curled. "Is.. is everything all right?" She leaned over, trying for a better look at him.
Tidus screwed his eyes shut against the burning red. "My father..." He began slowly, not even wanting to say the next four words. "His name is Jecht."
Yuna gasped. "Amazing!" Overtaken by this revelation, she was quick to perform the prayer. Straightaway she went to his side, gaiety livening her mien. "Our meeting like this must be a blessing of Yevon, I'm sure of it." There was that almost childlike wonder, again. If his father was Jecht – with whose assistance her father had bested Sin – then certainly there was some meaning to their arrival!
At the back of his thoughts Tidus swore he heard Wardani muttering, "Aye, ascribe coincidence to the unseen benefactor!"
It had to be just that, as well: A coincidence. There was no way, he stringently told himself, that both he and his father were pulled a thousand years into the future just to run into the same people – or just one of them, in Tidus' case. The odds had to be absolutely colossal! The more likely answer was that Braska had simply met another man named Jecht.
That was when the skepticism turned inward on itself. Were that the case, then this "Jecht" would also had to have been spreading tales about hailing from Zanarkand. Could a simple coincidence really be that perfect? To align so smoothly that the pieces felt almost seamless? The odds appeared to skew even deeper. Of course, he told himself, it was not so easy as that. His old man was dead. In the end, Tidus was unwilling to believe that he had so congruently followed his old man's footsteps. So, he shook his head. "Sounds like him, all right," he reluctantly admitted, "But it can't be him."
Yuna felt a stabbing disappointment, and even allowed a frown to show through, if only for a heartbeat. "Why not?"
Tidus sighed, not wanting to retread history, but feeling the need to, to convince both Yuna and himself. "My old man... He died ten years ago. Off the coast of Zanarkand."
Yuna's eyes widened, and then her expression fell. She turned her back to him, deeply troubled by this. "I'm sorry," she breathed.
"He went out to sea for training one day," Tidus continued, "And he never came back. No one's seen him since then."
Yuna's eyes shot wide as something occurred to her. She whirled about, spirits bolstered. "Why.. that's the day that Jecht came to Spira!" Confidence now rising undaunted, she grinned. As Tidus turned to face her, she sallied forth. "It's true! I first met Jecht ten years and three months ago! I remember, that was the day my father left." She watched his reaction, noting the subtle glimmer in his eye. There was no denying it. "The date fits, doesn't it?" She was less asking, more reinforcing her argument. A lesser person may have been smug in their conceived victory, but Yuna expressed only excitement. This had to be a portent from Yevon!
Tidus swore within the confines of his thoughts. That sounded about right, but he was still hesitant to accept what she was insisting upon. He was unsure if purely spite for his old man drove him on, or if it was a thin thread of logic yet holding him in place. "Yeah, but.. how would he even get here?"
Yuna laughed quietly. "You're here, are you not?" There was a sly glint amidst the blue-and-green as she looked back out to sea. She waited, letting the moments creep by steadily, giving him time to think. When she finally turned to face him again, she saw very clearly that his resistance was crumbling rapidly.
Tidus rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I am, aren't I?" As if he had been having trouble sleeping before, he thought sullenly.
XXX
The troupe's first night aboard the Liki rolled around at last. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in a myriad of color. Like a fading ember giving way to the cold of the dark, steadily fading 'til it was snuffed out to be seen no more. The stars resumed their command, the eternal black-blue replete with twinkling diamonds suspended in their prodigious welkin. Rather than die down, everyone seemed more animated with the sun having fallen from its erstwhile throne. There was all over the sounds of softly jovial music, laughter, and bubbling conversation.
Following a meager but filling dinner – a pint of grog, slice of bread, bit of crumbling cheese, and a serving of decently prepared fish – Wardani decided to head back to the upper deck for a smoke. Just below that stretched a long hallway, which was surprisingly ornate. The walls were painted with warm, relaxing colors interspersed by white molding along the edges, and similarly pallid paint on the supporting beams. At the very end a wide set of sturdy double doors was constantly guarded by the Crusaders, steadfastly concealing whatever lay behind.
He had gone ahead with the packing and lighting on his journey upward, saving himself the trouble of waiting. Finishing just about the time he approached the portal leading to open air, his attention was captured by a man, laden with a broad pack, who eyed him as he came near.
"'Ello!" The stout man greeted flamboyantly. There was an air about him... Something that just felt off. Like the stench of rotted egg. Wardani decided quite resolutely that he did not like this man.
Wardani cocked his head warily and drew to a halt. "A fine eve to you, sir," he answered cautiously, chewing absentmindedly on the stem of his pipe.
"I am O'aka the Twenty-Third, merchant extraordinaire. At your service." He twirled his hand and swept a quaint bow.
Wardani was, frankly, quite stunned. His eyes half-widened in dumbfounded shock, and mouth hung partially open, he could hardly but numbly bob his head in an ersatz nod. When he finally recovered his voice, he replied with mocking sincerity, "Oh.. fabulous." Which was about how this man seemed to be – or was attempting to appear, in any case. He carried himself with great aplomb. His chin held high, nose slightly upturned as if he were staring down at you. There were so many details one might construe from this. Foremost, for Wardani, he was either excessively arrogant or masked himself so to try and assume control of any conversation. Which, as a merchant, would come in rather handily. As long as anybody felt they were being led along they might be more liable to persuasion. "Name's Wardani," he returned, not bothering with any redundant gestures. A simple name would suffice readily.
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, I'm sure." O'aka replied with a cunning smile. Were he skinnier, Wardani might almost compare him to a fox in nature. There was something distinctly wily about him.
Only somewhat mirroring Lulu, Wardani murmured, "Quite." Pipe briefly pulled from his mouth, he asked, "So, what might I help you with?"
"Hmm..." O'aka rubbed his chin, pondering deeply. He appraised the battlemage for a moment, attempting his own read of the man. "Well, that depends then, don't it? Ye hardly look the sort to have much in the way of the wherewithal – no offense, of course."
"Just business." Wardani voiced the sentiment, chuckling softly against a pang of vexation.
"Ah, there ye are," O'aka snapped his fingers, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. "Right as rain. Can't hardly be putting too much time on someone who won't be supporting me business. Else I won't have one." He laughed, keeping the air as neutral as he could.
Wardani ruminated for a moment, once more clenching his teeth 'round his pipe. Smoke curled up from out his lips, pouring like a silver cataract that partially veiled his eyes. "If it's spending money your eye's so set upon, goodly sir," he caught a scoff in his throat, warping his speech slightly to play along, "Then it's just a matter of the proper wares."
"Is it, now?" The merchant was skeptical, wondering if perhaps his assessment of the battlemage had come to false conclusions. "Well, let's not be too hasty, then."
"Aye, lets not," Wardani nodded, feigning seriousness. This strange trader was apparently too blinded by the prospect of coin to take notice, which served Wardani just fine. He was actually having a little fun. "As a proprietor of peddling, you ought to be aware that smithing is a lucrative craft." He left his statement a simple one, carefully observing the man's response.
O'aka snorted indignantly, a rough sound that oozed of hubris. "'Course I am! Done me fair share of business with 'em. Honorable like, too. Good clean work, smithing is."
And so terribly by the book, you are, Wardani cackled inwardly, allowing little more than an imperceptible smirk to show through. Playing up to the customer. I really do sense some experience here. "Glad to hear it. Often we're thought of as mere dirty brutes."
"A benighted notion, of course," O'aka responded smoothly, and with practiced skill. "To think it simple, the wrapping and bending of heated steel, red-hot metal, to forge such fine tools." Wardani's brow nearly furrowed. He was having difficulty in divining whether the man was being genuine or spilling purely rhetoric. "Ye have the carriage of a man long practiced in your craft."
"I suppose that'd be a way of phrasing it," he took the judgment in stride.
A light clicked on in O'aka's head. "Say, ye being a smith and all," he sidled a bit nearer the battlemage,"Perhaps ye might be willing to help me out?"
Ordinarily Wardani's response would have been a swift and firm negative, but this man's nature honestly had his curiosity piqued. "I suppose it couldn't hurt."
Nodding elatedly, O'aka reached into his pack and dug around for a bit. When he withdrew his searching hand, in it was clasped a dagger. "Bought this as part of a deal last I was in Luca." He looked it over dubiously, mouth working into a look of displeasure. "Now, I'm not.. unreservedly confident of its calibre. Maybe ye might reassure me, yeah?" He held it out, and after a second's delay the battlemage took it. Wardani hefted the dagger in both hands, letting it rest evenly across his palms. After judging the weight for a moment, he shook his head. "Something the matter?" O'aka inquired worriedly.
"Not necessarily," the battlemage answered, words somewhat muffled for his pipe. "It's too heavy toward the blade. 'Course, you want any weapon like this to be a little leaden at the top, but this is a mite excessive." He lifted the blade first, and then raised the hilt. "Likely not got a full tang, this one."
O'aka nodded, glancing between the battlemage and the dagger. "Oh. And, uh.. that's bad, is it?"
Once again Wardani answered with, "Not necessarily." He paused, readjusting his jaws' grip on his pipe. "It won't hold as well against pressure, but anyone who's doing a heap of twisting and prying with this is misusing their purchase." He tossed it up, catching the sheath in one hand and drawing the dagger with his other. "'Course, if they're fool enough to, then they can't complain none when they come back to you for another." He winked cheekily down at the merchant, and set about inspecting the blade itself.
"Might not ingratiate them were I to sell a faulty product," O'aka mumbled.
Wardani rolled his head in disagreement. "Just let them know beforehand that it's not intended for any hearty work. General self defense should be fine. It's not bad looking, neither."
His countenance suddenly turning curious, the vendor inquired, "Say, ye boarded from Besaid, didn't ye?"
Wardani nodded, focused intently on the dagger. "That's right."
His lips were twisted by a pleased smirk. "Heard tell they've a mighty fine smith there."
A mischievous twinkle caught in Wardani's eye. "Aye, and she's a talented lass."
O'aka was taken aback, mouth agape. "A girl? That's not at all the picture I'd in mind."
"A sentiment I shared." Handing the dagger back to O'aka, Wardani took out the knife given to him by Kayla. "I could scarce bring myself to argue with craftsmanship of this degree." He pulled the knife from its case, allowing the light to catch on the finely polished steel.
O'aka's eyes widened. "Marvelous," he breathed, enamored by the quality. "That's downright exquisite, that is."
"Precisely my thoughts." Wardani put the gift away, thumb of his thus-freed hand looping through his belt. "I take it you've been following the line as it ferries between the islands, then? Perusing the passengers for suitable customers?"
O'aka nodded, unashamed of his tactics. "That I am. Do all me work by traveling, I do. Seen plenty of places, gotten gil from all corners of Wilderia. Only down here for a spell, you see. Once we return to Luca I'm off for good there."
Wardani nodded, fathoming the man's reasoning. "Good mark with the tournament kicking off. Lots of people from all over Spira gathered in one place. Pockets full of gil, induced by the high spirits to spend. What better place or time to hock your wares? Could rake in a tidy haul amidst all the hubbub."
O'aka appeared pleased at the battlemage's comprehension. "Ah, I see you're a decent student of the art, yourself!"
Wardani smiled evenly at what he chose to interpret as a compliment. "Little more than an apprentice, if anything."
O'aka chuckled. "Well, I suppose I'd just as soon call meself a journeyman." He broke out into laughter, a raucous guffaw that Wardani deigned to join him in, if only for the man's sake. Calmed down, and wiping a finger under his eye, O'aka sighed. "One of these days, though, everyone'll know the name O'aka, mark my word."
Wardani's allowed his eyes to widen. "Might I presume I'm stood in the presence of Spira's next trading mogul?"
"Ah, that'd be lovely, wouldn't it?" He shrugged, a dreamy look about him. "I'd be happy with just a single shop. Ye know, a place to call me own and all. Give a man a sense of pride, would that. Besides, it'd be scores better than having to haul me merchandise everywhere I go! Bad for the back."
"I can imagine," Wardani sympathized.
O'aka glanced up at the doorway above, toward the night sky, and exhaled. "Well, I suppose – late as it is and all – might be a good time to see about having a kip. Suppose I could wait and trouble ye tomorrow. Got some choice pieces I think ye'd like, or me name's not O'aka!" With a final dip of his brow, the merchant was off on his way.
Wardani dawdled for a moment, replaying the entire encounter again in his mind's eyes. An odd thing, he mused. When first he ran afoul the man, Wardani was unwavering in his conviction that he disliked O'aka. Yet, after conversing with him for a short while, he found his opinion had shifted. Certainly he still believed the peddler to be of a guileful sort, but once all was said and done he found he was actually rather fond of the odd little fellow. That certainly presented him something to cogitate about.
With an emancipating shake of his head, the battlemage climbed the ramp back out into the open. The smoke from his pipe stood out in a stark silver against the darkness, wafting up in esoteric shapes and patterns. He hardly missed the sun's brutal glower, verily appreciative for the night's peace. He wandered up to the overwatch and leaned against the side, one arm laid parallel to the grain, the other propped upon its elbow as it held his pipe.
"Wind a-wandering 'round the massif, beg bring your chill back home. A-longing for feel of your caress, fingers so gelid and kind." The old folk song murmured past his lips as languidly and fly-by-night as the smoke. The sea was turned to an inky mirror, it had been impenetrable before, now it seemed to swallow rather than reveal. It encompassed fear. Anything could lurk below, and they would never know until it set upon them. Images of great, dark shapes towering up from the surface populated his mind for a scant few seconds before he cast them away with a beleaguered sigh.
"Two days," Wardani mumbled gently into the wind. "Two very, very long days."
