Chapter Eleven: Converging Paths

Hesitating for only a moment at the open threshold, Meliadoul leaned in, rapping her knuckles lightly against the heavy door. She'd stayed in Ramza's bed for the better part of an hour, staring at the ceiling and trying to decide what she was supposed to do. A year ago she would have set the scriptures alight and while claiming them blasphemous. Now she stood with the tome clutched to her chest, lost in a sea of questions. Distantly she wondered what had changed, and when she had lost her faith.

Alma wasn't alone at this late hour, which was a surprise. Meliadoul had almost considered waiting until morning before approaching the youngest Beoulve, but decided she wouldn't be able to sleep if she didn't talk to someone. Alma and the Princess turned in their seats as she stepped into the room, smiling warmly. In the span of a breath Ramza's sister saw what Mel held in her grasp, and the look of recognition was gone as soon as it had arrived.

"Can we talk more in the morning?" The girl asked, her attention back on Ovelia.

"Of course." The Princess replied curtly, nodding and excusing herself.

Meliadoul watched in mild shock as Ovelia walked out of the room, quietly wishing her good night and closing the door behind her. Mel's gaze moved from the door to the Beoulve girl, before she finally spoke.

"Did I really just see you dismiss the Princess Royal?"

Alma laughed, rolling her eyes and moving from the table they had been talking at to sit at the edge of her bed. The girl was dressed for bed, and once again Mel thought she shouldn't have come so late. Crossing her legs, Alma patted the mattress next to her before folding her hands in her lap.

"Ovelia and I were just catching up." She explained. "We studied together at Orbonne Monastery a long time ago, and neither of us cared much for status."

"I see." Mel said, hesitating near the girl.

"So, Ramza finally decided to tell you."

"He didn't tell me anything." Meliadoul replied, exasperated. "Wait, he was planning this before hand?"

"For weeks. It's been stressing him out not to let you in, but we weren't sure if we could trust you. Izlude wasn't sure how you would take it."

"My brother has read this?"

Alma nodded, patting the bed once more, and leaned back onto her elbows.

"We were afraid… with all the time you'd spent as a Templar, you might be inclined to disbelieve it."

"Honestly," Mel said, sighing as she sat on the bed. "I wish I could."

"So he just handed you the scriptures and went on his merry way?"

"Well, he told me I should speak with you."

"That is so like him." Alma replied, laughing lightly. "He'll avoid confrontation as much as possible."

I don't know about that.

Clearing her head of any thoughts of the confrontation they'd had that very night, Mel let the book fall onto her lap, and stared down at it.

"Where did he even find this?"

"In Orbonne there's a priest, the same one who helped tutor Ovelia and I, his name is Simon. He had discovered scriptures some decades before, and was slowly working at translating it. After Gafgarion told Ramza what was happening in Zaland, well, Simon believed it would be better off in my dear brother's hands."

"Along with Virgo."

"Yes. He'd stowed both of them away for a long time. I really don't know why he wanted my brother to have them. Except…"

"Except what?"

"I think Simon knows Ramza, bless his meddlesome heart, won't leave something like that rest. He'll do something about it, where nobody else would."

"But what does this mean?" Mel said, ashamed at the way her tone came across as she lifted the book up. "Was everything we were taught as children a lie?"

"We're not sure." Alma said with a sigh. "We honestly don't know if the Church is aware of the lies it is built upon, or if it's ignorant of the truth."

"I just… I don't know what to think now. I wish I'd never read it."

"I know. I feel the same way, I suppose. It would be so much easier to just forget it, and you're more than welcome to if you think you can." Alma said quietly. "But Ramza won't. He won't let it go until he learns for sure what this writing means for us, and why the… Templars are after the Holy Stones."

"To safeguard them. To protect them-"

Meliadoul stopped as she recognized the practiced mantra that had slipped from her lips. She'd been told from the start that collecting the stones, guarding them, was one of the Templars most important duties. Unconsciously she reached up, her fingers finding Sagittarius tucked into her clothing.

"That's exactly what we're uncertain of. Are the Templars trying to protect the stones, or use them like Rudvich did?"

Meliadoul found she didn't have an answer for that. After seeing a glimpse of what the Taurus stone was capable of, and hearing its true power from Izlude, she didn't know what to think. Her father couldn't know of the true nature of the stones. It was unthinkable that he would be party to such evil. There were others, however, who would not carry such devotion.

"Where do I go from here?" Mel asked quietly, speaking to herself as she tugged her own holy stone free from her robe.

"That's entirely up to you." Alma said with a smile. "This knowledge is a heavy burden to bear; however Ramza would not have given you the scriptures if he didn't trust you."

"I suppose…"

"I have to ask though; what finally convinced him?"

Mel felt the blush creep up her neck, and it must have been visible in the dim candlelight, for Alma smiled slightly. The girl turned to Meliadoul, tucking her legs beneath her and placing her hands on her knees in a position of innocent curiosity.

"So he finally worked up the courage to approach you?" She asked with a small, lighthearted laugh. "It's about time. I'd just about had it with him pining after you from afar. Ramza may think he's crafty, but he's about as transparent as glass, if you know what to look for."

"Well," Meliadoul replied, suddenly nervous in a way that she didn't think she'd ever been. "That's not exactly how it happened."

"Oh?" Alma said, perplexed. "Oh! The plot thickens! Go on, I'm listening."

It was a novel experience for the Divine Knight, having such a conversation. Thinking back, she realized she'd never really talked about such things. She'd been raised around knights and in the thick of battle. Feelings and desires weren't a part of her life, and she felt ridiculous having such a talk, especially with Ramza's sister. She was a knight, not some common teenage academy girl, for Ajora's sake. Yet, at the same time, she desperately wanted to talk about it, and Alma's youthful enthusiasm was infectious.

"I may have… kissed him. Just a little."

"What do you mean, just a little?" Izlude asked, his eyes narrowing.

Ramza shifted nervously next to the small fire, noting that most of the other Blades had gone silent. Their captain gallivanting around with his second-in-command's sister was worth a listen. Following the raid, Ramza had his men make camp some distance off. They would sleep through the early morning to avoid any Hokuten patrols before returning to the garrison.

"You'll have to ask her." Ramza replied guardedly. "It caught me by surprise."

"Oh so she threw herself at you, did she?" His friend replied, turning away from Ramza. "Striker, I'll need my sword back."

The young squire, who had offered to check over Izlude's equipment only moments before, looked rather intimidated to be torn between the two men. It wasn't obvious to the boy that Izlude was, for the most part, joking. Ramza shook his head, busying himself with the campfire as conversation resumed around them.

"I'll wager it wasn't even how you said." Izlude continued. "I knew it. I knew from the start you had your eyes on Mel."

Ramza half ignored him, his gaze wandering around the small camp. Many of the Blades were already asleep, and all was calm, but he couldn't shake the sneaking suspicion that something was wrong. Frowning, the Knight Blade's attention was drawn to the trees around them, a stray thought wandering into the front of his mind.

"Izlude, quiet."

"What?" His friend asked, recognizing Ramza's warning tone.

"Why hasn't our last patrol come back yet?"

The words had barely left his lips before the Knight Blades sprang to their feet. Whatever weapon was on hand was drawn, the trained Nanten too cautious to let such a lapse in protocol be taken as coincidence. None of them were late checking in, and that could only mean their scout had been intercepted.

Ramza and Izlude stood slowly, not bothering to retrieve their own blades as the squinted against the darkness. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, but that meant little considering that campfire had ruined his night vision. Placing the flames between himself and the perimeter of the campsite had been a squire's mistake. An entire division could be waiting just outside of the fire's light for all he knew.

"Tell your men to lower their swords, if you would." A familiar voice commanded. "I would prefer not to kill them."

Ramza felt a chill run up his spine, and after a moment he held his hand out, giving the order for them to stand down. They were hesitant to obey, unwilling to give up without a fight, just as they'd been trained. A handful of them adjusted their grip on their weapons before Ramza's stern look forced them to release their hold on their swords.

"I knew as soon as the report came in that it had to be you, and that you wouldn't have gone far." Zalbag said as he stepped into the light of the fire, hand resting on the blade hitched on his hip. The elder Beoulve kept his gaze lowered, avoiding letting his eyes fall directly on Ramza or the fire. "We've come to expect your precision raids, even if we cannot predict them."

"What are you doing this far south?" Ramza asked quietly, gaze wandering along the trees in search of the other Hokuten.

"That's not your concern, nor are you in a position to ask anything of me."

Ramza bit down on his cheek, his mind racing. Zalbag wouldn't be travelling with any normal soldiers. No doubt the men that surely surrounded them were well trained veterans, ready to destroy Ramza and his troop.

"I assume you've come for me." Ramza said. "Let my men leave here."

"I am to kill you, did you know that?" Zalbag glanced up, raising one eyebrow at his younger sibling. "Prince Larg's orders. You've caused too many problems for the Northern Sky."

"So that's why you're here, then? To spill more blood in the defense of our name?"

Zalbag sighed, pacing, and rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment. Ramza watched him warily, aware that the survival of Izlude and the rest of his men hung in a delicate balance.

"My orders are simple." He said finally. "If I find you, I am to kill you. Say… say I never managed to track you down? Would such a small lie be treason?"

"I would call it something else, personally."

"Tell me why at least." Zalbag demanded. "Why did you turn against us?"

"Turn on you?" Ramza asked with a bitter laugh. "Are we talking about the same thing, brother? It wasn't I who ordered Teta's death. You should be asking Dycedarg that question. It's not the bastard child of Balbanes that kills kin and kidnaps royalty, as much as you wish you could pin it all on me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Teta was family, blood or not, as was Delita. You know what was done to them was wrong."

"That's not what I was talking about."

"The Princess? You mean to tell me you didn't know?" Again, Ramza laughed. "Our dear brother didn't tell you about his plot to unseat Goltana? He has played you for a fool, Zalbag."

"Mind your tongue!" Zalbag shouted, anger touching his features. "I offer you a measure of compassion, because of our father, and you repay it by slandering your own family?"

"Open your eyes! Larg wants control of Ivalice, and the only thing standing in his way is the Nanten. If you know of another man writing up Larg's plans, I might be able to believe Dycedarg was innocent."

Zalbag stared at him for a long moment, his expression torn between anger and acceptance, and after a moment he took a calming breath.

"If such a thing were true, not that I'm saying I believe you, then this entire war is our fault."

"War has always been the favored tool of the nobility." Ramza said solemnly. "Why would our family be different?"

A cool silence filled the air, as the two Beoulve's faced each other beneath the trees. Ramza held his breath, waiting for his brother to speak. He knew trying to sway Zalbag would be difficult, for he had always been the most stubborn one. Yet even as set in his ways as the man was he had to see some of the evil in this war.

"I will... consider what you have told me." He replied finally, turning away from the fire and walking away.

"Zalbag," Ramza called. "If our brother finds out you let me escape…"

"Be sure not to mention it to him then."

With that Zalbag was gone, and gradually Ramza's knights let their guard down. As Ramza turned back to the fire, he silently thanked his brother for the mercy he had shown. Deep down he had always hoped Zalbag hadn't been completely taken in by their eldest brother's madness, and it was a relief that he still was capable of making his own choices. Perhaps, when all of this was over, Ramza might once again find a home in Gallione.

The moon danced off the shimmering waves, bathing the large galleon in blue-white light as it cut through the seas, a steady wind filling its sails. Valmafra hated travel by sea, and if it had been anyone else who had asked, she wouldn't have made the trip. As it was, he would only be able to safely meet with her while traveling from Warjilis to Goug, while escorting a pair of machinists, and she needed a favor from him as well.

Wrapped in a thick woolen cloak to fight off the ocean chill, the sorceress leaned against the railing along the ship, scowling out at the water ahead of her. She heard the young man's approach over the foaming seas, and spared him only a glance as Olan sidled up next to her.

"You look displeased." He said with a sly smile.

"Knowing me as you do, you should feel privileged I agreed to this." She said coolly. "Do not press your luck."

"As you insist." He conceded, holding up his hands. "Have you been well Val?"

Valmafra was never one for idle chat, unlike the Nanten investigator. Perhaps that was one of the things she enjoyed about him, instead of something she merely tolerated. Olan was good at gleaning information and she suspected that his talkative nature was used for that purpose. It was easier to let your guard down when he spoke openly in nothings.

"Well enough, all things considered." She said, turning to face the ponytailed youth. "What is it you want?"

"So demanding." He said with an exaggerated sigh. "I had some questions perhaps you can answer."

"If I can, I will."

They both had secrets to keep, and that fact was respected. Just as Olan would not give her confidential information from the Southern Sky, Valmafra's hands were tied when it came to many subjects concerning the church. Yet out of all of her contacts Olan knew the most, from both his own deductions and her own unintentional slips.

"What do you know about stones?"

Valmafra immediately turned away from him, focusing on the ocean once more. Of all the things he could bring up, it had to be that. She should have figured he'd learn something of the Holy Stones sooner or later, and prepared herself a way to dance around the truth.

"Don't shut down on me Val." He said, leaning over to look into her face. "This is important."

"Then tell me what you know."

Olan hesitated for a long moment, debating on whether or not to take her bait, before he shrugged and pressed his back against the railing.

"Not much I'm afraid. We know that someone in the church is looking for them, and some of the Templarate may already have recovered some. You'd be surprised how little people wish to speak about this."

"No, I wouldn't." She replied coyly, shooting him a look. "I'd rather not discuss it myself."

"Don't make me beg."

"As much as I think I might enjoy that after you dragged me out here, I have something else in mind. A favor, if you will."

"Consider it done."

"I haven't even told you what it is."

"If I'm able to grant it, it's done. Now tell me."

Shaking her head slowly, Valmafra couldn't help the smile that touched her lips. The young Nanten could be infuriating at times, but he was always true to his word and trustworthy.

"The Templars are being dispatched all over Ivalice to find them. I can't say for sure which of the twelve they have recovered, but I know Vormav has one for sure."

"Vormav Tingel?" Olan asked, his gaze distant. "I suspect his daughter was given one as well."

"Meliadoul? What makes you think that?"

"Have you heard about Zaland?"

"No. What happened there?"

Valmafra listened intently as Olan relayed the story to her, ignoring the sea to give him her full attention. By the time he had finished she had come to the same conclusion, and traced one finger across her lower lip thoughtfully.

"I agree with you. Bart was working for the Cardinal, so the only reason he would risk imprisoning a Templar would be for a stone." She said. "Beoulve. Where have I heard that name before?"

"Nobility from Gallione. The family is close to Duke Larg, aside from Ramza, of course."

"Of course. The Lion of Bethla, correct? I've heard mention of him."

"So the Templars have spoken about him?"

"Some. Why do you ask?"

"Because Taurus was never recovered in Zaland, and I believe Ramza may have taken it, for whatever reason."

"If that is true the Templars might see him as a threat." She said quietly, considering just how much to tell the man. "I believe… they're trying to resurrect the Zodiac Braves."

"The heroes of legend? What do you mean?"

"By gathering all the stones and giving them to the Templars they can say that they're the holy soldiers of Ajora, sent to protect the people from the wars that are ravaging Ivalice."

"So you think it's a bid for power?"

"I do. Why else would they bother with something as trivial as some rocks? The legend of the Braves is still taught to children all across the land. If the Templars control the new incarnation of that story, they control the masses."

"What about you, Val? Where do you stand in all of this?"

"That is where the favor comes in."

Striding purposefully along the wall of the fort, Agrias headed toward Ovelia's chambers, nodding to the Nanten soldiers on the way. Agrias saw less and less of Ovelia since returning from Lesalia, as Delita found her counsel invaluable. Though she would never say so out loud, she had grown accustomed to his presence, even enjoyed this time at his right hand. She'd become an integral part of the command structure in the chaos of the war, and found herself invigorated by the responsibility that came with it. She was needed, sought after, and felt important. A few months before, she never would have believed she would seek the praise of a Nanten commander, but she hadn't met Delita then, either.

Alicia and Lavian smiled at her as she approached, but it was strained. She did regret not being able to see her knights as often, or speak with the Princess as freely as she once did. There would be time to mend that when the war was over, and surely the two women understood the importance of her work.

"Has she gone to bed?" Agrias asked quietly.

"Yes, but I doubt she's sleeping. She was visiting Lady Alma." Lavian said, indicating the walls around her. "She's troubled by all… this."

Agrias grunted, suddenly realizing she had nothing else to discuss with the other St. Konoe. Nodding to them briskly, she turned and walked off down the corridor, her mind drifting to the Beoulve knight. She had hardly spoken with him as well, though she was less bothered by that. Each of them had their own agendas, of equal importance. Agrias came to realize that, honestly, she'd barely known the man. Aside from their journey to the garrison together, they really hadn't even spoken in the first place. Perhaps she was just a stepping stone for him, a way to get him what he needed.

Letting thoughts of Ramza fall away, she let herself into Delita's chambers, as she often did. The Holy Knight stood at the far window of his room, staring out with both hands folded along the small of his back. Agrias stepped next to him, glancing outside before she spoke.

"Everything is prepared." She began, absently fingering the braided hair draped over her chest.

"Excellent." Delita replied quietly. "Now, ironically enough, we must wait on the Hokuten."

"You're certain this will work?" Agrias asked.

"Trust me Agrias." He said, smiling over at her. "I'll hold to my promise. Ovelia will have her kingdom, and we'll finally be done with the disease that is rotting Ivalice."

"What of Larg and the Ramza's brothers?"

"The Templars have plans set in motion on that front. As much as I hate to say it, I'll have to leave it in their hands. They have no reason to suspect I'm lying to them."

"I just wish there was another way."

"As do I." Delita agreed. "But if the only way to peace is through bloodshed, it's a price I'm willing pay."

Meliadoul woke late in the morning, and remained in Ramza's bed, staring at the wall. The Germonik Scriptures lay not far off, flipped open as far as Simon had translated. After meeting with Alma she had returned to the room and read through the ancient tome again, before finally succumbing to sleep. Sighing, the woman rolled onto her back, only then noticing she wasn't alone.

He sat in a high backed chair next to the bed, leaning forward with his head in his hands. Blonde hair spilled over Ramza's fingers, and for a moment Meliadoul thought he might have fallen asleep like that, and instantly felt guilty for occupying the bed he obviously needed. A moment later, however, he sat up, his gaze darting over to her.

"You're awake." He said softly, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.

"I apologize." She replied, sitting up and closing the book. "I should have taken the scriptures to my room, but I planned on locking them back up."

"Alma told me."

There was an awkward silence for several long seconds, as unconsciously Meliadoul attempted to restore her hair to some semblance of order. Tucking it behind her ears, the woman slipped to the edge of the bed, sitting near Ramza and placing both hands on the bed.

"How'd it go?"

"Last night?" He asked, casting his gaze to the floor. "It wasn't exactly as expected, but I think it turned out okay."

Another pause, as Ramza seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Meliadoul stared over at him, wondering for the hundredth time what was going on in his head. Realizing she couldn't wait forever to find out, she decided to simply ask.

"How do you do it?" She asked, locking her gaze with his hazel eyes. "How do you carry the burden of this while fighting a war?"

Ramza held her gaze for a long moment, before running a hand over his face.

"I do it because I must." He said. "How will you?"

"I'm honestly not sure. Everything I've known might be a lie."

Ramza stood, gazing down at her thoughtfully. She could only guess what he thought when he looked at her; what he felt. Finally he smiled, reaching down to slide a stray strand of Meliadoul's hair back. As gentle a gesture as it was, Meliadoul knew the measure of destruction those hands could bring, and the simple contact of his fingertips tracing along her cheek set gooseflesh across her neck.

"You won't have to go it alone."

Author's Note: Thanks again to HopelessRomanticist for being my Beta for this story. It's often so hard to catch your own mistakes in both plot and writing, and the help is greatly appreciated.

Not much to say about this chapter, except that you get to see some of the characters who will play a major part in the story to come. The 'party' if you will. It's up to you to guess who is going to be in it, and who isn't. Sorry for all the Rafa/Malak/Mustadio fans, but you won't see much or any of them it seems. There might be a cameo, but don't hold me to that. Going over it I just don't see a way they would fit into this story, and honestly I never quite got why Mustadio decided to remain with Ramza in the first place. Perhaps because of all of his help. So yeah, very little of the Engineer in this story. Balmafula's name was changed to the WoTL version because I simply like it better, and it's my call. Take that.

Honestly the most fun I had with this one was Mel and Alma's 'girl talk'. It seemed so completely out of place with the Meliadoul we knew in canon, but I think it would fit Alma's personality perfectly. Ramza might be softening her a bit, but don't worry, she'll toughen up as needed soon enough.

Constructive Criticism recognized, especially if you see some hokey bit involving Mel and Ramza.