10. Desperation
The situation only worsened. Marche wasn't all too happy when Montblanc and Doned were gone at the same time. He suspected that Ritz had something to do with it and cursed her. He was getting sick of this game. Or was he? A part of him said so, while the other half was still unsure. The Ultima Knight sighed deeply and cursed again. It was a boring, mission-less day. The others had gone to the pub to get a drink or went shopping for some weapons or armour. But he, Marche, just sat silently on his bed in his room, pondering. Went Montblanc and Doned would come back, he would tell them what he thought of their sneakiness. And the mission Ritz 'accidentally' appeared on. It bothered him too. He suspected that somebody in his clan had something to do with this. Probably Doned. It didn't feel nice that he was suspecting his own brother, but that brother had done things against him before. He still remembered the Materite incident. Marche shook his head and jumped up, walking to the window, looking outside to the streets, crowded as usual. He was becoming used to this, he had to accept that this was his home now, anyway. At the same time he wondered how Mewt was doing. Strange. Since Ambervale Marche had kind of forgotten about Mewt. He touched his forehead and noticed how warm it felt. He hung his head, feeling a bit dizzy ever since he had stood up. He cursed again and went back to lay down on his bed.
"These headaches don't stop…" He whispered, covering his eyes with his hand. "So many things on my mind… It's pure torture." Marche sighed again and again. "Why?" he wondered aloud. "Why do I actually hate Ritz so much? I had no problems forgiving Mewt… Sure, Ritz's problem didn't strike me as life-troubling. And her behaviour against me was far from friendly, to say the least." He bit his lip. "If she wanted to stay, fine, she oculd have helped me still. I wouldn't have forced her to come home with me. Why did everybody I met think I wanted them to come home with me? All I wanted was a way to go home, somehow. And over time I grew convinced that I could do so by changing the world back. But what do you want, after everybody turns their back towards you?" He groaned. "But at first, going home never meant changing the entire world, forcing everybody to come with me…"
Marche got up again and took his Ultima Weapon. He needed to find the sage of his clan, hoping he could help him to enlighten this terrible headache a bit, again.
Ritz watched Montblanc en Doned go, and sighed. She had told them what she had thought of everything that had happened, and decided to quit with the plan. Doned had protested, but she had replied that this wasn't going about forgiveness anymore. It was going about Marche. About saving Marche from a terrible foe: himself. Yes, Ritz had realized that Marche had become bitter and hateful. Because of her. Because of what happened. But that isn't the real Marche. Ritz believed that the real Marche in there wants to forgive her, but that his bitter and hating side stops the good side. She would find a way to get him to open up, to save him. But she didn't know how. Shara, Elena, even the two Viera with their knowledge couldn't help her, or give her any clues. A tear rolled over her cheek. She was getting desperate. She felt stupid and helpless. She completely had forgotten any clan isues, causing some of her members to leave, leaving only Shara and Elena. It had pained Ritz, but she had understood. It had pained the Viera that left too, but they wanted a normal clan life, and Ritz had given them that. It hadn't changed anything to her situation, though.
"What do I have to do?" she whispered. "What can I do? I'm getting desperate for ideas. Marche, how can I help you?" She felt a hand on her shoulder.
"He needs to help himself too, Ritz. You can't do everything." Shara remarked solemnly.
"But I'm afraid he can't." She sighed "I'm afraid he himself doesn't allow himself to help himself."
Mewt stared out of the window of his room in the Palace. Things sure had changed ever since Ambervale. He was now actually 'aware' that he was a Prince, and that he did have responsibilities. No longer his 'mother' was here to aid him in things. But he still had his father. And Babus. They were a great support. Judgemaster Cid had kept his decision to act independent of the Palace in case of the laws, but that didn't mean that he couldn't help his son. Babus was there too, always.
"Your highness?" Babus shuffled into the room. Mewt turned his back to the window.
"Hi Babus. Is something wrong?" The Prince looked curiously at his attendant.
"Ah, not really your highness. Master Cid will be coming soon, I believe." Than his tone became a bit more soft. "If I might ask, what was your highness looking at?"
"Just, the sky, the Castle Courtyard. It helps me think." Mewt replied.
"His highness has problems?"
"I don't think I have. I think my friends have." Mewt hung his head and sighed. "It's been a long time since I heard anything of Marche. Ever since Ambervale. That just isn't right."
"If I am allowed, he probably is busy with his clan business." Babus shrugged.
"I have been asking some of the servants to inform to the activity of Clan Marche lately. It's not as active as before." The Prince remarked. "No Babus, there's trouble, I'm sure of it. I wish I could see Marche."
"But your highness can't go into town like a commoner." Babus stated. "Maybe we should invite Marche to the Palace?"
"Maybe…" Mewt replied, turning to the window again. "Or maybe I should ask Dad to check on Marche for me…" He shook his head, thinking. He saw his dad riding over the Courtyard on his Chocobo together with some high ranked Judges. Mewt sighed. "Well, Dad has arrived, we will speak about this matter later, Babus."
"As your highness wishes." The Runeseeker bowed and then went in front of Mewt as they both left the room.
A few boring days passed. Marche had become depressed. After Doned and Montblanc had comeback, he wanted to shout at them and be angry, but in the end he left that idea, saying they should just stay away from Ritz. After that there had been a few missions available, which they took, but Marche refused to come along. He stayed behind in the pub of Sprohm, drinking perhaps a bit too much in the days his fellow clan members were away. He had just ordered another drink, his fourth in half an hour, when somebody came into the pub he recognized as a Mission-Messenger. The young human went to the pub master and dropped some envelops.
"Express delivery." He panted "Some urgent new Missions from Lutia Pass and a few letters."
"Thanks." The pub master nodded. "Care for a drink?"
"No thanks." The messenger replied "I need to go again. Cyril waits on their mail. Till next time."
Mache ignored his drink and curiously checked the urgent mission from Lutia Pass.
Did you hear about those people who died in the snowstorms of Lutia Pass?
They are back and are freezing travellers!
Basso, Streetear
"Curious." Marche remarked, with a hint of his normal, friendly voice. "Dead people back? Like zombies or vampires?"
"That may be." The pup master replied, while drying of the glasses he just washed of. "However, not all undead are restless souls like Zombies or Monsters."
"Then how do they get back up?" Marche wondered, taking a sip of his drink. The pub master seemed a bit hesitant to reply. Then he leaned a bit closer to Marche.
"Now listen kid, most people get the creeps when they hear these stories. Apparently you haven't heard of them."
"Heard of what?"
The pub mastered looked around the pub and whispered as silent as he could. "About Necromancers, kid."
The pub fell silent. The Pub master had barely been hear-able, yet everybody now stared in shock and horror to Marche and the Pub Master.
"Necromancers?" Another shiver went through the pub. "What is a Necromancer?"
"A special type of job, only accessible to the ones with a dark, fully rotten heart. Necromaners are masters of the dead and the undead."
"What do they do?"
"They control undead like puppets! And they have many Dark Arts you never want to get used against ya. However, their most frightening ability is to awaken the dead." The Pub Master inspected his glass, trying to see if he had cleaned it good enough.
"Like the people who died in Lutia Pass?"
"Exactly! When you have dead, nice people suddenly up and running again you can bet there's a Necromancer behind it."
"Curious." Marche shrugged. "It's the first time I've heard of such a class."
"Well, no wonder, even the most hardened criminals avoid the Necromancers like they avoid the jagds. Also, I believe the Palace is constantly in hunt of Necromancers. Good they are, cause a Necromancer is nothing but pure trouble."
"Really?" Marche stared at the mission notice, then grinned with excitement. "I'll take that Mission."
"You're not afraid of the Necromancers?" a customer wondered. Marche shook his head.
"I've had the entire Palace on my trail, fought in jagds, battled the Totema's and faced Ultima Weapon. I can handle some danger."
"Necromancers aren't some danger. They are deadly. But still, you've got power kid, so if we have to send someone, we might as well send an Ultima Knight to get us rid of them."
Just as Marche paid the mission fee, the door swung open and Ritz rushed in.
"Hey Pub Master, that snow mission still available?" She asked. Marche was so startled at her sudden appearance that he couldn't say anything hateful.
"Sorry lass. You're just a minute too late." Ritz looked at Marche and she began to understand.
"Ah Marche, so you are the one who took it." He clenched his jaw and reached for his sword, his blood boiling. "Works out perfectly then." Ritz continued. "Mind taking me along with you? I don't need any pay or something, I just want to go there too."
He was startled by her question. She asked it like she would ask Shara something. How did she dare to speak so normal to him? After all she had done? After all the hate he had given her? He was confused and could only stammer:
"M…Mind telling me why you would like to go so badly, whitey-locks?"
"Dead people in the snow intrigue me, what can I say?" she shrugged. "That's all really."
"Really?" Marche sneered. "Isn't it more like another stupid attempt at forgiveness?" He took a step towards her. "I warned you whitey-locks! Just stay the heck away from me, Doned, Montblanc or anybody in my clan!"
"They are throwing snowballs and hurt people…" Ritz whispered, not looking at him. "It reminds me of something. Something painful."
Marche's hate melted away. With a hard hid Marche pushed his hate away as well as he could. His headache worsened and he grabbed his forehead. After a few minutes, he managed to get a deep breath and relax a bit. He looked her straight in the eye.
"I see… Well…" He looked at her sideways. "Two is better than one. And if there is indeed a Necromancer involved here, I might be able to use some backup." He nodded. "Okay. We'll go together whitey-locks."
"Thanks Marche. I really appreciate it."
"You kids better watch yourselves out there. Be careful!" The Pub Master warned.
"We will, thanks. Oh yes…" He took a piece of paper from the bar and quickly wrote down some words, saying where he had gone and that whitey-locks was with him and that he was okay with that. "When my clan returns, mind giving them this?"
"No problem." The man then laid it with the other messages.
"Okay, now let's go whitey-locks." Marche then went outside, followed by Ritz. Outside, Ritz glanced to the corner of the pub and winked to Shara and Elena. The fencer breathed deeply, relieved her bold way of approaching Marche had worked. He still didn't like her, she could tell, but he tolerated her company, for now. She would try to keep it like that.
Marche hadn't really stopped hating her because it was her, but because of what she said.
"She's his friend, so am I. We fight for the memory of the same friend here. Mewt never was angry on her, I had to let her in on this." The Ultima Knight sighed deeply. Inside him, his hate grew stronger again, becoming more and more enraged. The hate screamed at Marche for being so incredibly foolish. Marche grabbed his forehead, his headache worsening. He felt so torn. He glanced at Ritz.
It was her fault! But at the same time, another voice said it wasn't...
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Next chapter: Mortal Snow! Yay! Finally I get that Romance in it a bit. Or at least I hope I will. I also hoep that this chapter was long enough for everybody's tastes. Anyway, read, enjoy and drop a reply please. Constructive critisism is always welcomed.