Chapter Eleven: Opening a dialogue with a street ear; the beginning of a beautiful friendship?

A/N: Just a note to say thank you to everyone reading and reviewing this story (Particularly Talim-Hime and Zaz9 Zaa0) and I'm sorry if the plot seems to be going slowly but I promise some action scenes and some possible romance are in the works. Plus, for those who read it, the return of some old 'friends' from 'The Stuff Legends are Made Of.'


Ffamran clanked along the white washed corridors of the Archades Judiciary gaol, the place the Empire dumped its malcontents, its rabble-raisers and its unwashed masses who did not warrant the special attentions of Judge Magisters

At one time or another almost the entire population of Old Archades had passed through these cells for a warm bed, a cooked meal, and a roof over their heads. The situation had passed the point of ludicrous long ago.

When the first frosts of winter descended it was a guarantee that petty crime rates and subsequent arrests would sky rocket as Vulgars clambered over each other to be brought into the gaol out of the cold.

Ffamran rather enjoyed the nights he was ordered to man the desk as Imperial soldiers brought in the sundry queue of emaciated beggars. It was not so much that he enjoyed the company of filthy lay-abouts but at least there was an honesty to their criminality, unlike the Judiciary.

He had been ensconced at the processing desk for something like two hours, as the wall mounted timepiece crept towards the small hours before dawn, immersed in a mechanics manual on aviation theory ( as close as he would ever get to airship piloting in this life) Ffamran reluctantly hid the manual under a pile of paperwork as two hoplites thundered towards him, a dishevelled looking dark haired youth (who looked to be Ffamran's own age) pressed between them.

'Got a right smart-alec 'ere.' One of the Hoplites sneered and Ffamran was momentarily confused as to whom the man referred, the prisoner, or himself?

At this moment the boy lifted his lolling head to reveal a face that had clearly made close acquaintance with a hoplites gauntleted fist, if the bloodied nose and split lip was any indication.

'Jules, me name is Jules, not Alec.'

'Last name?' Ffamran interrupted before the Hoplite could further pummel the prisoner into submission, scratching the name 'Jules' onto the processing form.

'Enkara, Jules Enkara.' The boy squinted at Ffamran, who had discarded his helmet which he was currently using as a waste paper basket under the desk.

'Oy, prisoners ain't allowed to talk.'

The second, previously silent, hoplite reprimanded the prisoner, who curled his lip back intending to say something unbelievable stupid no doubt to two men who had little better to do (and little they enjoyed more) than beating Vulgars to bloody pulps.

'And the offence?'

Ffamran demanded wanting to return to the article on the merits and disadvantages of autopilot flight he had been perusing until so rudely interrupted.

'Speaking me bloody mind, 'pparently that's an offence these days.' The prisoner chipped in before either Hoplite could answer. Ffamran sighed.

'Could you elaborate further?'

The form consisted of a number of tick box offences and speaking me bloody mind wasn't listed. Though Ffamran thought it would be quite soon, freedom of speech being nothing more than figure of speech in Archades these days.

' He was causing an affray, sir.' The second Hoplite stated primly.

Ffamran quirked an eyebrow, 'Really, another one? Fancy that.'

He ticked the box marked affray, with a wry flourish.

Causing affray being the catch-all euphemism for any number of much more serious and less tangible offences such as 'we didn't like the cut of his jib', or the prisoner had offended the wrong person, or in fact hadn't done a damn thing but we thought we'd arrest him anyway because there was precious little else to do in the middle of the night in the alleys of Old Archades

Ffamran thought that he had in fact heard any and all variant definitions and uses of the arrest worthy offence of 'causing affray'.

'Cell twelve is vacant.'

Ffamran instructed after having first taken the boy's finger prints and any and all weapons and personal affects he might use either to escape or do physical harm to himself; if there was any bodily harm to be done to prisoners the soldiers liked to be the ones to dole it out.

'Ah, yer are too kind sir.'

The prisoner sneered as he was led away and Ffamran pulled his manual from under the pieces of neglected paperwork and found his place in the article once more.

Sometime near dawn Ffamran hauled himself up from the desk and went to the cold store where the prisoners' first meals of the day were stored. Unleavened bread and water but for some of the wretches in the cells it was a feast to be savoured.

'What's this then, room service as well? I am honoured.'

The Prisoner in cell twelve scoffed as he reclined on the narrow bunk attached to the wall of his cell, hands behind his head and one knee hooked over the other, the very picture of easeful comfort.

Ffamran bit back a sneer of his own as he placed the prisoner's plate down on the small, wobbly, table and started to leave the cell.

'Odd, don't yer think?' The prisoner called after him, halting Ffamran's exit.

'This set-up I mean.' The dark haired boy sat up crossed legged on his bed, shrewdness in his eyes.

'I mean 'ere I am just some alley scum all cosy like with the son of Archades greatest scientific mind bringin' me my brekkie.'

'Excuse me?'

Ffamran shouldn't really be surprised that this boy knew who he was. The Vulgar's did their best to stay abreast of whose who and what was what in Archades corridors of power in the hopes they might use that information to fuel their own elevation, yet it still rankled.

'Oh, I don't mean noffin by it, sir; just think it's odd, tis all. That 'ere I am in the slammer an' I got one of the richest young lords in all Archades serving me breakfast in bed; ironic, that the word, ain't it?'

Ffamran could feel a nasty sneer twist his lips as he watched the smug humour dance in the prisoner's eyes. Electric dislike passed between them both.

'Indeed. I would suggest you enjoy it while you can, I fear fate is rarely this ironically beneficent twice in one life time.'

Ffamran took some pleasure in the confused look the prisoner gave him, clearly understanding the tone but not the vocabulary Ffamran had used.

Afterwards as he watched dawn paint the Archades skyline in a palette of pastel shades of pink and blue and gold Ffamran was still ruffled by his encounter with the smug Vulgar, not so much by the Vulgar's actions but by his response.

He had been offended by the fact that the Vulgar, a common, no doubt illiterate, filthy alley dweller should dare to consider himself equal to Ffamran himself.

Tapping his fingers on the window pane Ffamran realised that if he truly wanted to leave this life behind him, he would have to learn what it meant to be without status, breeding, and a fortune so large even the Bunansa family accountants had given up calculating the accumulated wealth.

Even as the thought repulsed him Ffamran realised that the Vulgar in cell twelve may be able to assist him in this endeavour.

Ffamran, who found it difficult to relate to his own peers, men and women of his own class and station in life, struggled to comprehend rubbing shoulders with the common people.

But despite the in-breed prejudice of his Gentry heritage Ffamran's mind could see beyond it, to the beatific freedom that lay in throwing off the shackles of his class and being judged on the merits of his words and his actions, not on the size of his inheritance.

Ivalice existed somewhere beyond the red-hewn towers of Archades, a world where he had no defined place or expected role. A world where he could be whomever he chose and consort with whomever he pleased.

An odd smile playing upon his lips, heart thumping with a near visceral longing for anonymous freedom, Ffamran made his way back to cell twelve determined, though he knew not how, to open up a dialogue with the opinionated prisoner, who would be a means to setting Ffamran free.