Chapter Thirteen: Truth hurts but lies will kill you slowly
A/N: Yes, Ffamran is a snob – he can't help it, he was just raised that way. Jules' language is a little rougher than in the game because he is younger and not as practiced at his trade.
Raz, I barely remember from the game, so if he seems out of character I apologize.
The rain created a heavy grey backdrop to their two step dance as the Judge and the Streetear paced around each other on the bridge adjoining Old Archades to the higher reaches of the Capital.
'A sky pirate?' Ffamran could feel himself sneer at the ridiculousness of Jules' suggestion.
'That's right, Master Ffamran.' Jules worked hard to make the title sound like an insult. He smirked through his rain sodden fall of hair.
'And that's the best you can offer me? A sky pirate?'
Ffamran, when he was a boy, had been fascinated by the macabre and the infamous; he had read dozens upon dozens of books regarding the exploits of the greatest, most notorious villains ever to blight the Empire with their presence.
But he had been a small child then with few friends and could be forgiven for such infantile and ridiculous fancies. Ffamran wasn't a child anymore and knew now that one such as he didn't have the freedom for day dreams.
He existed for the advancement of others, not his own enjoyment.
' 'E's from the Port of Balfonheim an' 'e's got a right keen int'rest in freeing your Landissian terrorist.'
'Why?' Ffamran asked succinctly unable to see the connection between Landissian terrorists and sky pirates.
But then neither had Ffamran had not quite parsed out to his own satisfaction why he had decided to sever his ties with his old life by breaking the condemned Hamish Von Denbak, Archades most hated supposed terrorist, out of prison.
Except that it was sufficiently dramatic to appease the restless spirit in Ffamran that longed to be the person he imagined when he looked into the mirror and not the dour, dutiful son of Empire he actually saw in his reflection.
Jules scoffed in disgust of his ignorance, 'It's obviously en't it? Balfonheim don't want the Empire runnin' their port so they's goin' to support anyone that's anti-Archades.'
Ffamran restrained from commenting on the lack of foresight that particular political viewpoint illustrated and instead shrugged his shoulders, hoping to shake off the rain that was soaking through the fine wool of his overcoat.
' And this pirate can be trusted can he?'
Ffamran wondered at the twisted turns his life had taken that he would speak of trust with a street ear in training, but shook off the thought. His life was not his own anymore, why try to make sense of it all?
Jules sniggered, 'It's funny, 'e asked the same fing 'bout you, mate. 'E says to me, Jules, how can we trust a bloody Judge, why'd he want to mastermind a prison break, of all things?'
Ffamran flinched slightly and turned to face the street ear directly. He was thankful that the foul weather kept people off the streets; miraculously for Archades they had no eavesdroppers for this sensitive conversation.
'And what did you tell this pirate?' Ffamran asked in a very precise tone.
'Tol' 'im yer had yer reasons to want out o' the city. An' reason enough to want t'burn some bridges along the way.' Jules winked at him in a vaguely insulting, distinctly insinuating manner.
'I see.' Ffamran couldn't argue against Jules assessment. He did want to sever all ties with Archades and his former self, it was the only way he could ever be free.
Ignoring Jules for the moment Ffamran walked over to the bridge's side wall and looked over the edge and down onto the water of the Saracades River, which ran through Old Archades and from whence the Capital derived her name.
He watched the rain pit and spatter the polluted surface of the river, setting the oily scum coating the water to ripple in muted rainbow shades.
'What is this pirate's name?'
He asked still looking down at the water. Further down river the large ships and trading boats docked coming in from the Phon Coast with the goods and raw materials that could not be transported by airship.
'Me name's Raz, an' you don't smell like any Judge I ever tangled with.'
Ffamran spun around to face the owner of this new voice and for a split second was utterly confused as he saw only Jules grinning smugly at him from the other side of the bridge, then Ffamran looked down towards the ground.
'You're the pirate?' Incredulity, if not naked shock, caused Ffamran's voice to rise harshly.
He stared down at the smallest Bangaa he had ever seen, the sharp faced creature wearing a ridiculously large brimmed hat and a raincoat that was too big for it.
Ffamran looked back up to Jules sharply wondering if this was what passed for humour in the alleys of Old Archades.
'You have a problem with me size boyo?'
The dwarf Bangaa demanded, baring teeth that were sharp for all that they were tiny. Ffamran shook his head, cast a dark look at Jules, who was laughing uproariously and leaning drunkenly against the opposite side of the bridge, and turned on his heel disgusted by the whole affair.
Or at least that had been Ffamran's plan and as such he was quite shocked, not to mention badly winded, as something grabbed hold of his ankle from behind and pulled his leg out from under him with considerable strength.
Ffamran ended up falling face first down onto the slick wet stone of the bridge, smacking his chin and accidently biting his tongue in doing so, with the diminutive Bangaa standing on his back (and he was surprisingly heavy despite his size) with the muzzle of a miniature gun pressed to his temple.
' Try and turn yer back on me now, boyo.' The Bangaa hissed triumphantly.
A surge of intense irritation rose in Ffamran who was now soaked, his coat likely ruined, and his mouth filling with blood from his bleeding tongue.
' Whatever you say.'
He hissed, ignoring the gun poised against his left ear, he bucked upwards, using his elbows, as hard as he could to dislodge the Bangaa, whose weight on his back was making it hard to breath.
What followed was too undignified to describe in full, but had anyone other than Jules been present they would have been treated to an interesting scuffle between the miniature Bangaa and the juvenile Judge for possession of the gun.
The would-be street ear, the only audience to this impromptu wrestling match, almost gave himself apoplexy from laughing so hard.
After what was in truth only about ninety seconds the scuffle was over and Ffamran and the Bangaa glowered at each other, the gun having slipped through a hole in the wall of the bridge and down into the waters below.
'That gun weren't cheap.' The little Bangaa, who nevertheless still possessed a fair proportion of his larger brethren's physical strength, hissed at Ffamran.
'Nor was this coat.' Ffamran retorted, spitting out a mouthful of blood and wiping distastefully at his bloody mouth.
His light grey wool overcoat was now liberally smeared down the front with mud, grime, and gods only knew what else, and moderately decorated with Ffamran's own blood.
Had Ffamran not been too well brought up for that sort of vulgarity, he might have let loose some rather colourful curses that would have fit in well in Balfonheim.
For a moment the Bangaa pirate and Ffamran simply glared at each other silently, then the Bangaa inhaled noisily and his lips split open in an enormous, fierce, grin.
'A'ight. Don't like Judges me, but you got the scent of a right, honest crook to yer, an' I like a good crook when's I find one. I always says I can judge anybody by the ways they smell.'
'Excuse me?' Ffamran wasn't at all sure he shouldn't be extremely offended by this statement.
The Bangaa cocked his head to the side, looking over to Jules who had finally managed to stop laughing and was now merely wheezing heavily over by the steps leading down into the alleys.
' Might 'ave to work on the accent, won't last an hour in Balfonheim talkin' like a right, smarmy toff.'
'I beg your pardon?'
Ffamran, who had the distinct impression the conversation had escaped him, looked from the Bangaa to Jules as the latter burst out into undignified fits of laughter once more and the Bangaa ambled over to Ffamram, who watched him warily.
The Bangaa stopped just in front of where Ffamran sat against the wall of the bridge and held out a scaly, clawed hand towards him
' It true you been creamin' the glitter off the tops of the Judges coffers?'
Ffamran blinked, dazedly, looking at the hand suspiciously, 'Have I been doing what?'
Did all the denizens of Balfonheim speak like this? If so he would make a point of never setting foot in the place.
'E' wants to know about the Gil you nicked from Ghis' department.' Jules acted as translator and Ffamran frowned, instantly on alert.
'I am sure I have no idea to what you refer.' He replied icily.
He may not know a great deal about the cultural nuances of low life criminals but he was certainly not stupid enough to confess a crime to strangers, or in fact, anyone at all.
Jules snickered and pretended to doff an imaginary hat to him, 'Anyfing y'say, Master Ffamran.'
The bangaa, who had given his name but Ffamran had completely forgotten it, nodded as if pleased.
' There's a brain in yer, then, for all that yer a toff.'
Ffamran decided not to dignify that statement with a response and instead painfully rose to his feet, knowing that he would be sporting an assortment of colourful bruises in the morning, and tried to walk towards the respectable end of the bridge without limping.
' Raz has some acquaintances that might be int'rested in 'elping out on this prison break yer plannin' Master Ffamran.'
Jules called to him and Ffamran sighed and turned his head to look over his shoulder, to see the Bangaa nodding his head.
' Can't free Hamish alone, but Remus will help for the right price. Come by the docks in two days an' look for the 'Syren' she'll have red sails, tells the men at the dock you a friend o' mine an' they'll give yer no trouble.'
Ffamran opened his mouth to argue, to point out that this was his bloody plan in the first place and who did this Bangaa think he was, taking charge? The sensible part of Ffamran's mind that was less affected by his woeful state of dress and general bad mood, realised, however, that he needed all the help he could get.
'Very well.' He muttered with as much good grace as he could muster, which he conceded, wasn't very much at all.
Without further word he hurried towards the ardent thronged streets of Nilbasse and towards the sky cab rank where he could escape back to the stifling, soul crushing familiarity of Central.
Though he had no idea what awaited him when he finally reached his home in Highgarden Terrace Ffamran didn't care. His father could be rampaging through the halls with his twin rifles for all he cared right at that moment.
It had been a very long day and Ffamran was already questioning not just his sanity (which he knew was shaky at best) but the desire to take flight and leave the safety of all he knew.
What was worth more, he wondered, his certainty and sense of self or the integrity of his soul?
Ffamran had no answer for his own restless mind, but he knew that soon he would have to make that choice. He just hoped that his final decision was the right one.