Chapter 9: Another Mission
This poem is an excerpt taken from one of Porom's many diaries. Written more than two years ago, it stands tall and pronounced; harsh and foreboding; set as a reminder to her, and to all, about the trying times for anyone and everyone, when war is not a factor and when life's little problems seem unending. The poem was never revised, never edited.
For the Pitiful and for Pity
(the words of my conscience)
Dear burdened wonder, hear me now,
trapped under the wicked plow
of life, yet unto knowing how
thy face have left but weary.
Darkened clouds in heaven's sky
have seen through souls with piercing eye,
and yours may not be happy, by
my thoughts, your thoughts are dreary.
Oh for pity, grace this hollow stone
of skin so rough and shattered bone,
to give her strength that all her own
shall weep amongst the trees.
She's back to that dull, empty well
where many other mortals dwell,
to build a large and living hell
where angels do but tease.
I cannot say without a doubt
that stressful times have come about,
hath turned this creature inside out.
Can there be any ending?
Love has trapped her heart through pain,
as books have shot right through her brain,
and work leaves nothing left for shame;
her body shaking, bending.
Drinking with the demon's bear
who always wants more than its share,
yet she, as listless, doesn't care;
lost? Oh Lord, hope not.
She leaves in things undone to hold
of merits which that seem too bold,
and keeps in she the things untold
which soon won't be forgot.
Dear burdened soul, see it true
that I have no answer for you;
nor do the heavens, seeing through
your empty, stressful mind.
See but yonder graveyard steps
where buried, burdened souls are kept,
where friends and lovers never wept,
because thy fault is mine.
"What else did they tell you?"
"Not much else," Palom tries to explain the situation to Porom, gathered together from bits and pieces of information received from the Elder's council. Apparently, all the Elder told them was that he was going to be away for a while and handed them something to give to the twins. "They just gave me this book, bowed their reverent heads, and walked back to their chambers—probably practicing their poker skills."
"Knock it off Palom." Porom takes the book from her brother's hands in haste.
"No really, I swear I saw a couple of them at the tables a couple of days ago. I think it was Humerstein and Pellyncrest…or was it Shillinsworth?"
Porom ignores his ramblings and focuses on the brown, dusty, leather cover of the book in her hands. Its face is bordered with gold, metallic ink, looping here and there with the artistry of a master calligrapher.
"They must be pretty good at playing poker," Palom continues. "They had this huge stack of chips and I could've sworn I saw them spanking a waitress in the ass. Man Porom, you should've seen the look on her face. It was cherry red and her mouth was wide open…she didn't know what to say. I guess even holy men get horny once in awhile, I mean being cooped up in here all day, all year, you know something's gotta be going on behind their bedroom doors late at night…not that I've been thinking about that or anything, but…" A sudden burst of coughing ignites from Palom's lungs as Porom blows a thick mist of dust from the book's cover. "That (cough) wasn't (cough, cough) nice (cough, hack)." Palom bends over, hands on knees, wheezing and coughing, trying to catch his breath.
With a slight grin of success on her face, Porom directs her attention back to the book—the title, Warriors of Light, written in the same gold ink. She opens the book to the first page, the same title appearing in the center with the subtitle, History's First War. Palom's coughing continues as Porom turns to the next page. Just as she begins to read ("This is a very important account of events dating back hundreds of years…"), a pair of hands grab tightly around her arms.
"You're lucky you're my sister, otherwise I would have taken more offense to what you just did." Palom speaks his words through short, heaving breaths.
"You're lucky I just didn't smack you in the face with the backside of this book dummy."
"You wouldn't do that."
"Of course not. This book is much more valuable to just use it to flatten your dusty mug into a pancake," she closes the book. "Come on, we should go to the Elder's cottage and try to find out where he went."
"Where'd your new boyfriend go?"
A little annoyed at the sarcastic way he says this, Porom clutches the book to her chest and says, "He's outside. Not that it's any of your business."
"Whoa ho!" Palom exclaims. "So he is your boyfriend."
"And what if he was." Porom is gearing up for another one of their outlandish sibling arguments.
"Nothing."
The look on Porom's face is nothing less than stunned.
"I think it's great that you're finally going out with someone, you know? I was getting a little worried about you."
Is he actually showing some sincerity? Porom thinks.
"You're always cramming your face into those books at the library, going to sleep early, I never see you hanging out with anyone, I was wondering if you had any friends at all."
Porom's eyes, unblinking, begin to water.
"You've just been looking a little lost and lonely from my perspective, and I think that this guy is really good for you. I've talked with him a few times in the past so it's not like I don't know him."
Her urge to wrap her arms around her brother's neck and sob into his shoulder begins to overtake her.
"At least we know he's not in it for your breasts because, let's face it sis, there ain't much to look at there."
That did it—Porom's eyes dry up faster than a small puddle of water on the hottest day in history; her heart races, not with emotion but adrenaline, as her right hand comes up and slaps her 'loving' brother on the cheek, the smack echoes throughout the hall.
"Let's go jerk, we've got work to do!" Porom quickly does an about face and heads out the front door, leaving Palom behind to nurse his wound.
"I gotta learn to shut-up," He rubs his throbbing cheek and follows his sister out the door of the Hall of Enlightenment. As his eyes get adjusted to the sun's searing light, he's greeted to the sight of his beautiful fiancée. "What are you doing here?"
Lyrca wraps her arms around Palom's neck. "I came to tell you about a family dinner my grandparents are having on the other side of town," Her brown ponytail is draped over the front of her right shoulder, tickling Palom's chin. "It's tomorrow night and my grandparents are dying to see you again." Any older and they'd already be dead, he thinks to himself. (Stop it!)
"Actually we have a slight problem." He says.
"What's that?"
"The Elder's run off," Porom says, still clutching the book to her chest. "We're going to his cottage to find his whereabouts."
"Can I help?" Lyrca regards the Elder with the feelings she has towards her grandparents. The Elder has been very kind to her by taking the time to teach Lyrca some of her white magic skills. He would also tell her heroic tales of days past, mostly about Palom. She never seems to tire of hearing stories about him and the Elder knew this very well.
"Sure," says Porom before Palom could get in a word. I think maybe I'll just meet you back at your place, is what Palom would have said if his sister didn't butt in. He was feeling a slight strain around his neck for some reason, like an invisible noose was slowly tightening, cutting off his air supply. Dizziness starts to overtake him and he loses his balance momentarily.
"You all right Palom?" asks Gerald.
"Yeah, just a little wobbly…I'm fine."
"I smacked him upside the head with this book. I guess I hit him a little too hard," Porom says.
"Nah I'm fine. Let's get to the Elder's already."
The foursome walks two by two up the stone pathway leading to the Elder's cottage. Lyrca wraps her hand within Palom's. An intense chill creeps over his entire body as if life were seeping away from him. A cold sweat begins to form in his palms. He looks ahead at his sister, her right arm wrapped around Gerald's left, and though he's in their company and that of his fiancée, Palom can't help but feel very alone at the moment.
Interlude 1
"We're at the halfway point My Lord."
"Very good captain," says Cecil. "Let me know when you get first site of Fabul."
"Aye, aye."
Cecil couldn't help the strange and dreadful feeling that's run over him. It started a few moments after their takeoff from Baron—a feeling of distress, a worry that has now intensified, as if something back home has happened. For a brief moment Cecil considered turning back to see if everything was all right, but he forced himself to continue on his flight toward ruined Fabul.
Too many things were happening all at once. Throughout the Zeromus War, Cecil was able to hold himself a little better. But now as the king of an entire nation, the burden and stress of looking after his countrymen, his kingdom, has all but encompassed him into a vast blackness, emptiness, and leaving him with a feeling of loneliness. So many people looking up to him, for protection and guidance, so many lives at stake that even he, the great hero of the Zeromus War, was never quite ready for.
Where to begin? Who do you trust?
(Shocking night huh? Nice and dark with nothing around you but fire and blood.)
What will it take to survive this time?
(Revenge never tasted so sweet.)
Who is behind all this?
(It's only begun you know…and when it's all over…)
Will you live to tell the tale?
(The time has come to crown a new king.)
"I don't know what to do." Cecil says to himself, hands drawn to his face to hide the dismay strewn across it.
End of Interlude 1
Reading the note the Elder left, assuring them that there was nothing wrong, didn't convince anyone of that. The Elder has left his room a mess—books not shelved, the ink jar used to help write the note left open, blank sheets of paper strewn about his oak table, not to mention the window above the table being left open. Gerald, Lyrca, and Palom comb the area for any clues that might help discern the Elder's destination. Porom on the other hand sits quietly on a velvet-cushioned chair reading the book given to them by the Elder's council. Her eyes move with rapid speed, back and forth, engulfing every word, every sentence into her head.
"A band of mighty warriors took it upon themselves to fight the evil that was sweeping the entire planet," Porom reads. "Fighters, mages, martial artists, the best and the brightest took a stand, building a foundation of hope which would never be defeated. Throughout the many years it took to conclude this, the first war ever recorded, never did any hero fall. Their power, their spirit, their will, all divine and within their hearts, never relinquished their desire for peace and happiness in their world. And so, they shined an intense light within the darkness that cascaded over their homes, their lands, their people; and those people would give their heroes a name—The Light Warriors."
"Well he took his compass, his bag, a spell book, and a couple of other things," Palom says, "but there's nothing here that tells us where he went."
"Anything interesting in that book Porom?" Gerald asks.
"Interesting, yes. Helpful? No," Porom closes the book after dog-earring a page to remind her where she left off. "The Elder gave this book to his council to give to us. So far it's nothing more than a history book about a group of heroes called 'The Light Warriors'."
"Who wants to learn about a bunch of anorexic guys?" Palom jokes.
No one laughs, not even Lyrca.
"Maybe reading the book in its entirety will relinquish some clues," says Gerald. "There has to be a reason why he left it with you to read."
"Perhaps," Porom stands up. "But I'm not going to just sit here and read this thing while the Elder could be in trouble elsewhere. I think we should head out and search for him." Porom starts for the door when Palom interrupts.
"Ok, that's good and all sis, and I'm all for it, but where do we start looking? No clues remember?"
"First we quickly check any of the docks around town to see if the Elder took a boat. If that's not the case, then we travel east. We'll go to the Chocobo Forest like we did when we went up Mt. Ordeals, and hop a ride on the Chocobos; that will speed up our search."
"There are three docking areas, so we should split up and meet back here as soon as possible." Gerald suggests.
"No," says Porom. "Palom and I will do this, you and Lyrca don't need to be in this."
Lyrca comes up behind Porom and lays a hand on her shoulder. "I would like to be a part of this if you don't mind Porom. The Elder has not only been a teacher to me, but he's also been like a guardian," Lyrca looks to Palom for a moment then turns her attention back to her future sister-in-law. "My concern is true, and I want to do everything in my power to make sure he's safe."
"That goes double for me," Gerald says. "I may not know the Elder like any of you, but I know what that man has done, not only for Mysidia, but for the entire world. We all owe the Elder our lives."
Seeing no way to persuade them otherwise, Porom lets out a slight sigh and then nods her head.
"Alright, let's go. Palom, since you know a few of the dock-workers at Sterling Port then you go there; Gerald can take Yorkshire; Lyrca and I will take Adhellar Bay. Ask anyone about the Elder's whereabouts…there shouldn't be anyone who doesn't know who he is. We'll all meet back here in an hour, and once it's been determined that he didn't go by boat, we head for the Chocobo Forest to the east."
"Sounds like a plan to me sis." Palom says. The others agree. And with that, they leave the Elder's cottage and split up to look for him, praying and hoping that he hasn't gone far.
"I'm too old for this," says the Elder to himself as he makes his way past Mt. Ordeals. "A man like me should be lying in bed dying slowly and quietly." Using a magic staff as a walking stick, the Elder continues his trek to the east. The sun is harsh and blaring causing his body to run with sweat and fatigue. His breathing is slightly labored, his eyes squinting in the searing light.
He's been walking nearly continuously since early yesterday evening, only taking an hour for a short nap.
In the distance, the Elder can see a pack of gray mountain wolves patrolling the grassy plains at the base of Mt. Ordeals, but he knows they will do him no harm. Not as long as he wears his mystical amulet which keeps any wild beast at bay. The amulet was created by a blacksmith, specifically to the Elder's instruction, and made from a very rare jewel found only in the snowy valleys on the northernmost island of Malamori. With a little touch of magic, the amulet's warding properties are ignited, and its powers last for as long as the user wears it, or as long as the user is living.
The blacksmith who helped create the amulet was a long time friend of the Elder, back in the days when he was known as Ghilwood Llewelyn. They both lived in the town of Brumsfeld—a town that was recreated into what is now the kingdom of Baron. When the Elder took up the ranks of the ministry, he left his town and blacksmith behind. The Elder kept in contact with his friend from time to time. The last he heard, the blacksmith was residing in a small village called Haywood, known for its strong herbal creations such as potions and healing salves. The rich soil surrounding the town makes it prime for growing such herbal necessities.
The Elder walks at a steady pace through the crowd of mountain wolves, many of them growling their disdain for the old man passing by. A few of the canines take a couple of steps towards the Elder then suddenly bounce backwards on their heels as if some force were kicking them away. Ghilwood the Elder wipes the beads of sweat that trickle down to his eyelids.
"I have to find him soon before life leaves my body." His words are barely audible even to himself. He continues forward with the hot afternoon heat coursing through his body, as the wolves stare intently at the old man who, seemingly, has little life left in his withered body.
Interlude 2
"Lady Rydia," a deck officer calls to the Queen of Eblana from the main deck. "We should be reaching home soon, so far there's no sign of trouble."
Rydia doesn't say a word. She just nods to the deck officer. Ever since they've left Baron, Rydia's been doing nothing but think. Her mind races frantically at what they might see when they reach Eblana. A town in ruin, a broken castle, a blood-filled massacre decorated with the torn bodies of her townspeople strewn about the entire kingdom. She swears she can hear the screams from the women and children, the horrid cries of her soldiers, the look on her husband's face, knowing that their kingdom has just been renewed, restored to its natural glory, only to see it be obliterated by an unknown evil, a darkness without a name. She can picture the clouded skies above Eblana, with streaks of red cutting through them like blood trickling from open wounds. She can hear the thunder, see the lightning, and feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Her body is weightless, filled with the light air of dread. She senses the touch of a cold hand on her shoulder, bony and dry, harsh with calluses and dead skin, slowly moving toward her throat, now wrapping itself around it with great strength. The cold, dark hand begins to grow, turning snake-like, constricting around her entire neck, cutting off her air supply, cutting off her life. Let it stop, she thinks to herself. Let it be over.
(Oh, things are far from over my dear. It's only just begun.)
Leave me be. Please leave me alone.
(Hear them cry, see their pain.)
God help me.
(No one can help you, not this time, not even your dear friends.)
Please.
"Lady Rydia?"
She awakens from her trance.
"Are you alright?" The ships captain grips her shoulder with a strong hand.
Rydia looks around, startled and scared. It takes her a few moments to get her breath back. Only a dream, she thinks to herself. Only dreams.
"I'm alright Captain Yasshin—just lost in thought."
"Captain! Lady Rydia! Come here quickly!" The deck officer yells.
Within seconds, Rydia and Yasshin are on the main deck looking forward toward the southern horizon. Both their hearts sink to the very depths of their souls as they eye what looks to be smoke. Though still far away, the island nation of Eblana can barely be seen, but the trail of cloudy blackness cannot be mistaken. Rydia's feeling of helplessness is now so pronounced; it brings tears to her eyes.
"We're too late."
End of Interlude 2After their search at the docks turns up empty, Palom, Porom, Gerald, and Lyrca gather up supplies for their trek to the Chocobo forest. As they get set for the trip, Palom pulls Lyrca to the side to talk to her.
"I really don't think you should come along on this one." His voice is serious, the most serious tone Lyrca's ever heard from Palom.
"I understand your concern sweetheart, but this isn't just about looking for the Elder; not for me," the crease between her eyebrows grows slightly. "This is about you. I'm also going because I'm afraid of losing you."
"I know, but what about you? You've never had any kind of combat training. You have no idea what we might be facing out there," Palom rests both his hands on Lyrca's shoulders. His grip is slightly painful but Lyrca stands her ground. "Something bad's going to happen, I can feel it. It's in the air, like a really bad smell that you can't get out of your nostrils—a smell that you don't know where it's coming from," His eyes are intense, a darker brown than what Lyrca's used to seeing. The glint in his eyes are gone, and instead they're replaced with a sort of shade, a cascade of darkness clouding his irises, as if a fire within his mind were releasing bales of smoke through those usually bright brown eyes of his. It isn't really darkness she sees in him, or evil for that matter—it's foreboding. He's expecting something terrible to happen and it's clouding his eyes. "If I ever lost you, I don't know what I would do," And then, a sudden realization occurs to Palom—this was true. After all his sweating and worrying about in-laws, after the nightmare thoughts and anxieties about marriage, he now knows that Lyrca is the one he wants, the one he needs in his life; that one person who he'd do anything for, give up his life for. That reassurance to himself lifts some pressure off of his chest, and now it allows him to express himself a little bit more. "I don't want my future wife to die before I can make a long and happy life with her." The eyes soften, the glint begins to return, and Lyrca's heart begins to weep.
"I don't want that to happen either sweetheart," she rests a hand against his cheek. "I want to be there for you whenever you need me, and I know you don't want me to come; but I believe that you need me now, and now is as good a time to start as any," Her second hand comes to rest on Palom's other cheek. "You and I are a team, and I don't want to hear any 'buts' about it. You've told me your tales of triumph and heroism…now it's time to start writing a new chapter, for us."
Palom wants to say, "but", but he can't do it. Not to her, not anymore. He rests his hands on her waist, pulls her towards him, and gives her the sweetest kiss she's ever received.
"Ahem…" Porom lets out a couple of 'excuse me' coughs and tilts her head in the direction of the main gate leading out of Mysidia, a warm smile on her face saying 'sorry to interrupt, but we have to go now.'
Palom releases the hold on his fiancée and readjusts the pack on his back as Lyrca does the same.
"Alright, let's go find the Elder and bring him back home." The heroic tone in Palom's voice cannot be mistaken.
"Let's do it." Says Gerald as he rests a hand on Porom's shoulder. She nods to him.
Two by two out the main gate and toward the Chocobo forest, as friends through the troubling times, now, more like family hand in hand.