"HEEYY!"
Arch woke up from a holler from outside. The sands have been shifting underneath the wheels of the merchant's sleeping wagon for a while, and she slept like a rock for about three hours.
Or like her armor, anyway.
She sat up, hearing again another yell. They were joyful. Someone was laughing. A couple of chocobos warked. The noise of much more people than she had so far heard mumbled in the distance.
She was at Figaro Castle.
She stretched her legs and arms and yawned, blinking sleep from her eyes. She wondered in humor if those sleep-grits someone called Sleep-sand in her eyes were actual sand. She knew they were not, but it was funny to think of the similarities.
She got on her hands and knees and made her way to the back were she got in. The wagon slowed to the slighter pace as she looked out of the multiple curtains of colors that kept the sun out before. Now they were not needed, for the sun crept below the horizon a while ago.
The caravan, led by Gorn, was allowed entry by heavily armored men with spears. Arch looked around the side of the cart. She was the third mobile buggy in the string of eight. The guy driving the chocobos of the cart after her was the man who was taunted by his friend earlier with water, Derikan. He noticed her, and smiled and nodded in greeting. She returned it.
Figaro castle was lit up brightly with fire torches against the black night sky, cut by sterling stars and a distant moon. The sand glowed a copper as it met up with the metal of the sub-terrain castle, lit by torches. The gleam of soldiers' armor, much differently styled than her own, was seen from the barricades. Some of them waved. Some merchants waved back. Everyone was talking, but she really couldn't understand a word of it. She was happy anyway, smiling lightly and looking at the people from the back of her wagon.
The caravan stopped inside. The whole room was like a market place, only it was empty now. The empty stands were against the wall, and that left the center of the large room barren for the wagons to settle themselves. Gorn was yelling something about getting the chocobos when the wagons stopped. Arch watched as people got off the wagons and started to unhitch the yellow birds, who were travel-weary, and lead them outside to the stables. Finally those poor beasts could get some sleep.
Mehee suddenly turned around the corner or her wagon, stopping with surprise. She figured his intentions was to wake her up, and he didn't expect her to be leaning on the wood support and looking about form her sleeping quarters, bright eyed. He started stuttering again. "Er..Uh..H- Have a good nap?" He laughed nervously. Arch simply nodded, "Yep." "Well, do you think you've been here before?" "Probably. But not this room." "King Edgar made it. I mean, he had it made about six months back. The thieves are somehow crossing the sea from Zozo, and they're getting pretty obnoxious, so he made a merchant-hall for an inside market." Mehee stopped, looking around the wagon. Someone was yelling something at him. It seemed he had a habit of scratching his head when he was nervous, because he was doing it again. Looking back to Arch, the apprentice merchant smiled big enough that his teeth became the most prominent feature on his face. "Er.Well...uh.I have to go. Gorn said you're free of charge for the ride. And.uhm.You can do whatever you want.Oh! Wait a second!" He put up a finger to emphasize the waiting part. He fiddled though his pockets and after a few moments of hasty searching pulled out a small leather bag.
He handed it to Arch, who took it gratefully with a nod. Looking in the bag, she saw a good amount of coins. She smiled brightly, "Thank you!"
"It's nothing. Only Two thousand GP. I have heck of a lot more-" Whoever yelled for Mehee before croaked up again, sending the young man in a very abrupt goodbye. "Uh.Bye!" He waved quickly, and took off in a run around the corner in a panic. Arch chuckled. What a funny man.
She looked at the brown bag. She knew she needed it for something. The idea that it was used for trade came pretty quickly with a memory of seeing hands give one of the gold circles and receiving a dagger. Dagger.A weapon. Gorn said she would be eaten alive by monsters if she didn't have one. But she had armor already, didn't she? If she bumped into a "monster" she knew she'd be able to flee.Somehow. She put the bag of GP in the front bosom of her silver plating, tucking it below her throat as she stood up and got out of the wagon.
*
"Hey, doesn't that guy Setzer have white hair, too?" "Who's Setzer?" "Derikan, have I ever told you that you're an idiot?" "Yes. About eleven times today so far."
Arch heard the familiar voice of the man who gave her a canteen earlier talking to his friend. They were pulling the items out of their wagon, setting up for the crowds tomorrow. They didn't seem to think she heard them as they talked about her strangeness. So far they covered the fact she might be a specter, zombie, a thing called a Luneran-or-something, an esper, or a monster. They ended up calling her a malformed human wearing something called Old Doman Armor and did not tan well, however.
"It's the guy with that funny looking coat and long hair? With the airship? Who helped King Edgar kill Kefka.?"
~Kefka.~
Arch remembered that name. She remembered saying it somewhere. She remembered a memory.
~Fallingdowndowndowndowntheblackabysswhitepaininherback. ~
She blinked. Her calm, amused state of mind did not fade. It was something that happened a while ago. She wasn't affected by it now. The image was like watching it, but not being there. She continued to have a soft, genuine smile as she looked up at the ceiling. Someone said it was actually one of the smaller public rooms, connected to the front gate. She thought she smelt Chocobos behind one of the doors. It must have been where the new stables where.
"Oh! That guy. Yah. He was creepy," Derikan said. He apparently did not have a good long-term memory. Arch was getting bored listening to their conversation. She decided to leave the Merchant's Hall without much thought. It was getting crowded anyway. People who wanted to see the selections before anyone else started to poke up as soon as the caravan came, even though the sun went down a while ago.
Arch left through a pair of large doors. Guards chatted with each other, sometimes greeting her as she passed them in the torch-lit hallway. She mostly replied with a "Hello" and a nod. She noticed some people, both guards and regular late-night strollers, staring at her. Of course, she didn't mind. Didn't even feel self-conscious. After a while she stopped noticing them.
She climbed up stairs twice, the sounds of trumpets getting louder if she listened hard. She was tempted to go down one of the stairs that flanked her when she walked through a pair of open doors. One was ominously silent, and the other was filled with vague swearing and yelling. She knew it was a jail. It must have been completely occupied up if what Mehee said was true and she would rather not know what kind of people was down there.
She sooner or later found herself to open sky, huge towers reaching over her. There where no people up here. Two slightly smaller doors, and one huge one. She brought herself to the wall at her right for some reason, noticing and looking up at the moon. The opposite of the sun. Midnight lantern of the Earth.
A glimpse of a vague image was in her mind. Using a little effort, the memory of the ocean came back, but she remembered sand.and something like a mountain. But soon that image faded from her mind. Arch looked below, sand stretching far out. The new Merchant's hall was indeed small in compare to the rest of the castle. She saw Fiargo's soldiers wander around on chocobos. She only looked for about a minute before she heard someone scuffle up behind her.
"'Scuse me, Sir? Did you come with the merchants?" a feminine voice asked. Arch didn't feel offended with the gender mishap. She ~was~ wearing male armor and had short hair. Even she'd be confused about her appearance if she was not herself. Arch turned around, coming to face a teenage girl with brown hair and white, plain clothes with some blue embroidery on the sleeves. Arch knew she was a servant of some sort. Almost automatically the young woman's face of questioning went to embarrassment. "Oh, dear me! I'm sorry! It's just that your armor."
"It's okay! I confuse myself sometimes!" Arch put up both hands, waving them as she grinned. Mistakes did not need to be apologized for, for they were not by intention. The girl's embarrassment of red in her face hushed a bit. Arch quickly answered the girl's question, "Yes. I did come with the merchants."
"Oh thank the Goddesses!" the girl sighed.
~Thewarmtearunningdownthebackofherhroat,onlytoshootitoutofhernoseinlaughter. ~ Arch chuckled at the flashing memory, and the relived look on the young women's face. Somehow the servant girl felt much less emotionally dense about something. Arch picked up an image of a map in the young girl's mind.The desert and the castle pictured on a small continent. North east, across a straight of water, a town in the mountains.Steam.Narshe.
"Do you think you'll be able to get to Narshe soon?" the young woman asked. "I dunno. You'll have to ask the head-merchant of the train. His name is Gorn." Arch said. Her vocabulary was starting to become more functional quickly. The servant looked a little deflated, however. Arch wondered what was on the girl's mind. "Why do you ask?" "Er.My father was a miner up there. Since the world changed I haven't been able to contact him personally, so for the past few years we've been sending letters to each other, but he hasn't said anything for the past week and I don't have the money to travel there. We usually write to each other every other day.My uncle want's to come too. I was hoping I could travel with the train." "How much money do you need to get there and back?" "I'm not coming back." "Oh." "But Uncle Ezoff said it would be at least one thousand GP, but." ~We don't have the money.~
In a flash Arch had the bag of gold in her hand. She was picking through it; five hundred for herself. The girl stood, jaw open. After taking the hand full of gold, the silver-armored woman handed the brown bag out to her. "Take it," she said cheerily, smiling brighter than before.
The girl was reluctant in silence, looking at the money, then to Arch's face. Suddenly tears cornered at her eyes. She took the pouch, in surprise and nervousness. "Th-thank you." she said. The girl didn't know whither to laugh or cry. "Thank you so much.!" With that, the servant girl took a step back, did a small curtsy, and turning she ran away. Arch watched, smiling as the figure became more distant and disappeared into a doorway. She knew the girl's father was ill in Narshe for some time, in a feverish coma for the past seven days. Just as she knew the girl had enough knowledge of herbs to save his life if she got there in time. I~You have my blessings, kid. Good luck! ~/IArch picked up on an old joke between the girl and her uncle from the soft information. She made a low, short laugh. ~Beware of walking cheesecakes.!~
"Oh, that was nice of you." Was it Arch, or did people like to eavesdrop, including her? The mild voice came from the corner of her vision. She calmly turned her head a notch to see who it was.
A servant woman older than the girl, with light pink clothing and blond hair stood in the half-shadows not too far away. She was more than just older than the girl, Arch saw if she looked hard enough, but she was old. Gray streaked her hair and wrinkles edged at her eyes. She had a warm stance to her. "That girl's been agonizing herself over her father till she was like the walking dead," she continued. "She was too shy to ask King Edgar to help, and her Uncle was too proud.Aye, kid's these days.And the men! Och."
~Edgar.Roni..Figaro. ~
~Upsomany,manystairs. Agoldcoinflippingintheair.~
Arch remembered that name too. But it was like a distant ring in the back of her head. She might as well ask."King Edgar?"
"Eh? You don't know King Edgar?" The old woman looked at Arch, strait in the eye, a smile of bemusement tugging at her face. "And where have you been the last four years?" the old woman asked, putting her hands on her hips as she became skeptic. "Either you're one of those fools from Zozo or your one of those odd hermits."
~ Tallbuildingswithshadowyfiguresintherain.Awarmlogcabin.~
"I am neither." This was odd. "Oh, I can see that! Anyone from Zozo who comes within the castle walls is like asking for a death wish or a direct sentence to the underworld if they ran into the merchant train you came from. And no hermit would have such a cuirass as yours. Unless.Do you know of any news from Doma?"
Arch figured cuirass was armor.
"I do not know. I do not come from there." Arch's speech was again advancing as she was becoming more used to talking, but none the less fast. The old woman seemed to think a bit before replying, finger to her lip.
"That so? Then were do you come from? No one wears armor like that anymore. Unless you came from Jidoor."
~Fancymusiccamefrominsidethehouse,thedoorclossingabruptly.~
"I don't know where I come from." The old woman stopped, looking at Arch again. "What do you mean by that?" "I woke up in the desert. The merchants gave me a ride here." The white- haired guest said matter-of-factly. "And you know nothing of before?" Arch nodded. The old woman..Ellaye, she picked up, was staring intensely at her, loosing her smile. Arch held her hands behind her back, calmly returning the woman's gaze. It seemed she was going to explain what little she knew, and answer a lot more questions. Ellaye was thinking.of something. Arch focused to feel what her thoughts were. ~Like that esper-girl Terra.~
~Apendant,firespreadingacrossthemustyground.~
Out loud the she asked, "Do you remember your name?" "Yes." Was all Arch said. Well.It was all that was asked! "And it is.? What?" "Arch Cinaed." "Heh.Sounds ancient to me," Ellaye said, smiling once more. "Maybe you just might be Doman. Or you came from Thamasa. They have funny names there." Doma.She was now having a memory about it, the name familiar.
~Talltowersmadeofstone,surroundeedbyamote.Peoplefalling.falling.~
"Oh! Are you planning to go anywhere?" Ellaye asked. "Excuse me?" "Outside Figaro. Travel?" "Haven't thought about it." This woman seemed to like the fact she was the first person of whom got to meet the odd stranger from the desert and question her for gossip. She knew she was the first because Arch would not be waiting around alone. Ellaye liked to talk. She also knew the younger girl with the absent father in Narshe well, and was for some reason happy and feeling "bound" to Arch for something about the money she gave away. And now Arch thought of it, she didn't know were she was going. Or what she was looking for. Something cold seemed to set in her chest. She shrugged soon after speaking in reply. Ellaye chatted on.
"Ah! Then you won't be leaving soon?" "I don't think so.I might." "I tell you what.I can get you a room in the castle, free of charge so you won't have to sleep at the Inn by the Merchant's Hall every night. From what I hear people make such noise outside no one can sleep anyway! You can probably stay until you want to leave." Arch was picking something up as the woman trailed off. Something of distaste towards someone. She briefly got the picture of a face, but only could visualize baldness and wrinkles. She shrugged it off. It was none of her concern. "I don't know if I'll stay here long." Arch wanted to go off, find whatever was calling to her in the world. Something in her mind ached, reaching for something. She knew she would have to find it, and it wasn't here. "I might go tomorrow." "But you only have five-hundred GP! Are you planning to go to South Figaro?" ".Maybe. I don't know where I'm going." "Looking for what you've lost?" Ellaye smiled, almost deviously. That seemed like a liable explanation. Somehow.Arch knew it was.true. Somehow. ".Yah. I guess. Perhaps I could even find my wits, too." Arch smiled. What a precious joy this world was. And so far it was strange.
All the better.
*
Well, Ellaye got Arch a room in the castle walls pretty quickly. A half- hour, at least. Arch didn't hear what the old woman said to a guard, but she was sooner or later led to a good sized chamber about fifteen feet wide and just as long with a view of the desert from a picture window. Beside the window, on the adjourning wall from the bed, there was a closet of some sort. The bed was made, maroon blankets with white sheets with a wood bedpost. Across from the foot was a simple white bureau sitting next to the closet and above it a picture of some sort of fabulous creature holding stars in it's arms. Or was it its teeth? Either way it was something benevolent. Arch at least got the idea with the light colors and the soft midnight sky.
Ellaye suddenly became hasty once Arch was in the room. The servant-woman clasped her hands together, talking trice as fast as Arch did. She looked at a strange looking wood object on the bureau with a glass face- a clock. "Oh, you must be exhausted from the desert! You can stick your armor on the chair over there. The light's broken, but you can see by the moon, can't you? I'm tired myself, and I have a husband-" The face Arch perceived? "-to get home to. If you need anything, ask a guard. You'll find them somewhere. Usually they tend to nod off, but you'll find one. Good night!" Before Arch could say anything, Ellaye was out the door, closing it for Arch to have peace. Ellaye must have had marriage troubles.
The snowy-haired dreamer scratched her head, glancing out the window briefly. She really didn't feel like taking off her armor. Something told her she shouldn't. Either that or she was just too lazy. Arch shuffled over to the mattress. Although she had what felt as if a decent nap a few hours ago, she was again tired. She flopped on the bed on her stomache, just sinking to it. The framework of the bed was sturdy, but it squeaked with the weight on top of it. The armor and Arch put together was at the least two hundred pounds. More likely two hundred fifty. But at most three hundred.
After laying still for a few moments Arch sank into a near sleep, just laying across the bed in the wrong direction. But something panged in her gut. Her eyes flew open. She had to pee.
It turned out the closet was not a closet. It was a private toilet. The real closet was beside the head of the bed, hidden by the door to the hallway outside when it was opened. Arch couldn't see it when she came in.
And by joyful hell, she wanted the armor off! At least the lower section. She finally was able to get it down anyway and relieve herself. There was even toilet paper. After doing the instinctual duty of most living things that ate, she noticed she wore white leather breeches. That meant she wore complete white under her silver armor. She didn't find it odd in the least.
Arch found the curiosity to pick through the closet after re applying her armor and leaving the bathroom. She considered going back to the bed and not giving a damn if it was empty or not, but she found herself opening the door. Turned out there was something in there. Actually, a lot of stuff, but most of it was empty boxes and linen sheets, plus a quilt. There was a solitary board across the top, a shelf. Arch saw only the vague shape of a box, and decided to pull it down. Why would it be up there if it was not different from the other crates? Turned out, logic was correct. There was a green vile, sparkling oddly in it a neon hue. She felt somewhat arbitrary and selfish to take it, but if no one was using it in a public room, she could use it later, couldn't see? Besides, the box it was in was covered in a fine layer of dust. No one would miss it.
Arch tucked it in the bag with the money, fitting together. She decided to take the GP and the newfound item and stick them in the empty bureau. After that, she fell back into the bed, and the world was sucked to a pleasant oblivion, wearing armor and all.
*
Arch was more impatient than she thought. She had a vague dream about a small silver cylinder object with holes in it. It was identified in her mind as a flute. But it was silver, like her armor. But that's all the dream was about. She had the picture of it in her mind and the sound it made, and that was enough to fuel.something she didn't know how to describe. It was similar to how she felt in the desert, wanting to walk forever until she remembered water. But this was a more lively feeling, making her want to run in circles for the sake of it.
Ellaye was not around as far as Arch could tell this morning. Arch want to go to the market-like scene in the Merchant's Hall, too. The swordless warrior-lady went alone. She had the feeling Ellaye would not be around today. Cleaning other rooms, Arch guessed. She got no telepathic information.
The whole scene seemed amazingly different in daylight. It turned out the Hall had no roof. It was in the shadow of a close tower. Arch was baffled by the strangeness, and burst out laughing when she first walked in. About three people near by stared at her, other glanced. Many of them she did not see in the late crowds of the night. The caravans were somehow transformed into stands holding food, weapons, and more tonics like that of which Arch found in the closet. She was relieved she did not have to walk in the sun like she did to reach the hall, for the tower blocked the light like a giant, leafless tree.
People still stared, although few stopped and actually gaped at her in the midst of their production. But she had many eyes glance her way. She guessed it was her armor, for the people she met so far seemed to make a big deal of it. After a few moments of walking around, glancing at items at the stands and such, she heard some one direct their voice to her from nearby. She had the feeling she was going to have trouble attracting attention for some reason. "You there! How much for that old Doman armor?"
She turned around. It was a merchant she did not recognize. He had a strange sort of black beard, mostly stubble on the chops and a shock of black on the chin. Arch recalled it as a goatee. He wore elaborate red and yellow clothes, something of silk and maybe linen. By the gold he wore, Arch knew he was one who mastered at trade. Some people edged off to a distance as they saw the man confronted her. She stood smiling against the stern faced dealer, her hands behind her back as like when she was walking. Lightly, she replied, "I am sorry. My "wear" is not for sale."
"Five thousand." Arch stood smiling, shaking her head. Why would anyone want her armor, anyway? There were plenty of other good types in the armor, shield, and boots shops. And she liked her armor. The man continued. Arch chuckled at his efforts, however she knew he was just starting. "Ten thousand."
"Nope." "Twenty thousand." Some heads turned. "Nah." "Fine then. I think I see your aim. Fifty thousand." "I am sorry, Sir. As I say again my armor is not for sale." Most people were now watching, turning heads and clicking their tongues in disappointment about Arch's decision. Some people had the look of anxiety in their eyes. But for some reason those people were looking not for the fact of her declines of the large amounts of money, but for the fact of whom she was talking to.
She did not pick up the wealthy merchant's name, but she knew he was not like the ones she traveled with. He had a different reaction from the common people gathering around, and the normal cashires distasted him, almost snarling. He wasn't supposed to be here in the first place. Banned or something. And he used to worship-
~ Kefka.~ ~Ahugetower,stairsandstairs,andstairsreachingtotheblacksky.~
Arch blinked. The vision completely pulled her from what she physically saw, leaving her a blank smiling figure standing with her hands behind her back in a calm position. Odd, she thought amusingly. The merchant was throwing the exchange for a million, becoming more and more agitated as he went, before Arch made a very loud sigh trying to make a passive point of boredom or pity. She grinned a little more when she saw his face starting to turn red. Something of a logical laugh in words played at her lips, "Sir, when I say I will not sell my armor and you persist, you degenerate your self-esteem greatly by working too hard for nothing. I suggest you pay the armor-smiths for a different suit."
"You wench, I will have that armor!" Oh, a temper tantrum. Some people scattered a bit, some making sounds of disgust and others making sounds of shock as the man publicly swore at such a trivial matter. Woman fled, removing children from the area and scowling at the vulgar language. Arch wasn't really aware why, but by the some-what morbid atmosphere suddenly building she was glad they were gone for their own sake. But simotaniously she also noticed there were no guards in the hall itself. Poor stratagy to protect people of Figaro-
~NOW-~
Arch's thoughts ran like a flash, like her visions. But this was sharper. Without cause, Arch went with the torrent of impulses. Her right hand shot up to her face, grabbing a blur of steel. She noticed the position of the "merchant" before she could see what she clutched in her pale hand and pointed between the eyes, just touching the skin. She clamped her jaw shut, preparing for something that would not agree with her senses in the near future.
The man had his legs spread slightly for balance, arm extended with an open hand. He had the expression of anger, a demonic scowl. People started to scream, panic in a flurry to leave. A few people on their toes for the fight stayed near the doors and the steel walls. But Arch stood still as people swarmed away quickly, the simple calm never leaving her as she held the weapon from her brow. But her usual peaceful amusment took on a expressionless and somewhat sad flavor. And a painful one.
Arch just caught the blade of a not-so-dull dirk in her fist, stopping the point just as it touched the skin between her eyes. Red raced down her wrist in streams, her hand still clutching the sharp blade. She did not notice the man's expression turn to horror -or amazement- for her "quick reflexes." She focused on moving her elbow and opening her hand as he stood still in shock. Fire came from the cut muscles and skin in her palm.
It was not all that bad of a wound. She was able to catch the soaring blade in the major crease of the fingers so the stress of pressure from the blade was not tremendous. She stopped the force of the projectile by pinching the flat of the blade against her palm with the rest of the fingers. But there was still a clean cut raked deep across the fingers, as well as a deeper one across her palm. She took her left arm calmly from behind her back. Her right hand burned like hell fire after a few moments and even worse after opening her hand and pulling the blade from her palm with a sick sound of wet blood and muscle tissue. She winced though a mild grin, and dropped the blade to the brick floor with a high-strung clank.
The thief-merchant quickly recovered from his astonishment. He shook his head once in disbelief, but then removed another gleam of light; another blade. But he charged up to Arch this time, pulling the knife back in an under-movement to try and get the space between her breast-plate, shoulder- guards, and arm-guards. But he never got any more than two feet away from her. She practically slid in the dirt out of the way without needing to gradually gain any momentum at all, kicking up sand tracked in by the former shoppers and chocobos. She spun as he came close, her shoulder guards peircing the air. To her it was rediculously easy, evading the thief's attack and making a counter-attack of her own. Her left shoulder felt the force as the huge metal shoulder-plate hit the back of the offender's head.
Then there was silence.
And the man almost flew four feet before hitting the floor with a grunt, limp as a rag-doll. His grip loosened on the knife, and it went skipping on the ground as he hit the thin layer of sand during the charge. Arch found her eye following the flash of metal as it stopped under the boot of a guard, the first in the group that skidded to a stop as it approched the duel site.
She looked at them with the bitter-sweet smile, looking down and shaking her head. She could only know her emotion as sadness. But she had no regret. From her forgotten past she knew she had the right to handicap the former Kefka-worshipper for the fact he drew blood first.
"Sad," Arch muttered lowly. With that, she stood up straight and opened her right fist again and tried her best to pinch the larger of the two wounds in her hand with her fingers, not even looking at the Figaro soldiers. She went to the empty tailor-stand as a few of the officials blinked at her.
She grabbed the first thing she put her hands on, wrapped up her palm, and made a fist to tightening the bandage so the blood would stop as soon as possible. The pain was distant, now however. She might have had an adrenaline rush or was pushing it from her mind because it was not as bad as before. Although she didn't show anything more than a sad smile, in her mind she was somewhat stunned and now highly amused with almost comical hysteria.
Why the hell would someone fight over armor?
Then Arch took attention to the cloth she grabbed, feeling the texture with the left hand as she held it tight. Again she was somewhat deflated. It was beautiful silk, bold and royal blue with gold edges. She ironically ruined it, turning the fibers purple with her scarlet blood. And she knew it was two-hundred and fifty GP. Pushing her wounded hand down on the wood counter to keep the bandage on as the soldiers gathered up the thief-Fanatic, Arch pulled the bag of money from her armor, and dumped half of the contents onto the pile of clothes. The vile also fell out.
Arch paused, reflecting it for a moment. She left it out to tuck the money- bag away. She then reclaimed the small bottle and popped off the top without a second thought. She downed the bitter contents, and as soon as she did so the pain of her wound returned. Intuition must have just called.
"Ma'am.?" A soldier that approached her from behind must have been unsure about her armor's gender illusion again. But Arch approved by nodding her head as she turned to face him, holding her closed fist. "That dirk might be poisoned. Please come with us."
"I've already solved it, my friend," Arch made an attempt for a reassuring laugh. The guy was more scared for having to drag her to the medical quarters from poisoning than for her own health, but she found she didn't like anxiety of any form and hoped to end it without a grudge. "I only ask for some decent bandages and directions to south Figaro. I think the weapon- smith might be able to explain what happened. He had a pretty good view of this game..I think."
Arch only made the young guard afraid of her.
Author noties:
Thankee, Radia, for pointing out the misshap! For those who don't know, I confused Edgar's middle name with Sabin's..X_X
Now a flick preview from "The Night Rain!" ^ ^ --
Ved-"Suurrrreeee..You screw up as soon as we.GET TRAPPED IN A NOT-SO- DORMANT VOLCANO!" O
Ulati-"Only your breath, Vedcano, is just as bad. Is that why your parents named you so weird?" D
Ved-"Yo' Mama." |
Iroot-"I don't get it." @_x
Arch woke up from a holler from outside. The sands have been shifting underneath the wheels of the merchant's sleeping wagon for a while, and she slept like a rock for about three hours.
Or like her armor, anyway.
She sat up, hearing again another yell. They were joyful. Someone was laughing. A couple of chocobos warked. The noise of much more people than she had so far heard mumbled in the distance.
She was at Figaro Castle.
She stretched her legs and arms and yawned, blinking sleep from her eyes. She wondered in humor if those sleep-grits someone called Sleep-sand in her eyes were actual sand. She knew they were not, but it was funny to think of the similarities.
She got on her hands and knees and made her way to the back were she got in. The wagon slowed to the slighter pace as she looked out of the multiple curtains of colors that kept the sun out before. Now they were not needed, for the sun crept below the horizon a while ago.
The caravan, led by Gorn, was allowed entry by heavily armored men with spears. Arch looked around the side of the cart. She was the third mobile buggy in the string of eight. The guy driving the chocobos of the cart after her was the man who was taunted by his friend earlier with water, Derikan. He noticed her, and smiled and nodded in greeting. She returned it.
Figaro castle was lit up brightly with fire torches against the black night sky, cut by sterling stars and a distant moon. The sand glowed a copper as it met up with the metal of the sub-terrain castle, lit by torches. The gleam of soldiers' armor, much differently styled than her own, was seen from the barricades. Some of them waved. Some merchants waved back. Everyone was talking, but she really couldn't understand a word of it. She was happy anyway, smiling lightly and looking at the people from the back of her wagon.
The caravan stopped inside. The whole room was like a market place, only it was empty now. The empty stands were against the wall, and that left the center of the large room barren for the wagons to settle themselves. Gorn was yelling something about getting the chocobos when the wagons stopped. Arch watched as people got off the wagons and started to unhitch the yellow birds, who were travel-weary, and lead them outside to the stables. Finally those poor beasts could get some sleep.
Mehee suddenly turned around the corner or her wagon, stopping with surprise. She figured his intentions was to wake her up, and he didn't expect her to be leaning on the wood support and looking about form her sleeping quarters, bright eyed. He started stuttering again. "Er..Uh..H- Have a good nap?" He laughed nervously. Arch simply nodded, "Yep." "Well, do you think you've been here before?" "Probably. But not this room." "King Edgar made it. I mean, he had it made about six months back. The thieves are somehow crossing the sea from Zozo, and they're getting pretty obnoxious, so he made a merchant-hall for an inside market." Mehee stopped, looking around the wagon. Someone was yelling something at him. It seemed he had a habit of scratching his head when he was nervous, because he was doing it again. Looking back to Arch, the apprentice merchant smiled big enough that his teeth became the most prominent feature on his face. "Er.Well...uh.I have to go. Gorn said you're free of charge for the ride. And.uhm.You can do whatever you want.Oh! Wait a second!" He put up a finger to emphasize the waiting part. He fiddled though his pockets and after a few moments of hasty searching pulled out a small leather bag.
He handed it to Arch, who took it gratefully with a nod. Looking in the bag, she saw a good amount of coins. She smiled brightly, "Thank you!"
"It's nothing. Only Two thousand GP. I have heck of a lot more-" Whoever yelled for Mehee before croaked up again, sending the young man in a very abrupt goodbye. "Uh.Bye!" He waved quickly, and took off in a run around the corner in a panic. Arch chuckled. What a funny man.
She looked at the brown bag. She knew she needed it for something. The idea that it was used for trade came pretty quickly with a memory of seeing hands give one of the gold circles and receiving a dagger. Dagger.A weapon. Gorn said she would be eaten alive by monsters if she didn't have one. But she had armor already, didn't she? If she bumped into a "monster" she knew she'd be able to flee.Somehow. She put the bag of GP in the front bosom of her silver plating, tucking it below her throat as she stood up and got out of the wagon.
*
"Hey, doesn't that guy Setzer have white hair, too?" "Who's Setzer?" "Derikan, have I ever told you that you're an idiot?" "Yes. About eleven times today so far."
Arch heard the familiar voice of the man who gave her a canteen earlier talking to his friend. They were pulling the items out of their wagon, setting up for the crowds tomorrow. They didn't seem to think she heard them as they talked about her strangeness. So far they covered the fact she might be a specter, zombie, a thing called a Luneran-or-something, an esper, or a monster. They ended up calling her a malformed human wearing something called Old Doman Armor and did not tan well, however.
"It's the guy with that funny looking coat and long hair? With the airship? Who helped King Edgar kill Kefka.?"
~Kefka.~
Arch remembered that name. She remembered saying it somewhere. She remembered a memory.
~Fallingdowndowndowndowntheblackabysswhitepaininherback. ~
She blinked. Her calm, amused state of mind did not fade. It was something that happened a while ago. She wasn't affected by it now. The image was like watching it, but not being there. She continued to have a soft, genuine smile as she looked up at the ceiling. Someone said it was actually one of the smaller public rooms, connected to the front gate. She thought she smelt Chocobos behind one of the doors. It must have been where the new stables where.
"Oh! That guy. Yah. He was creepy," Derikan said. He apparently did not have a good long-term memory. Arch was getting bored listening to their conversation. She decided to leave the Merchant's Hall without much thought. It was getting crowded anyway. People who wanted to see the selections before anyone else started to poke up as soon as the caravan came, even though the sun went down a while ago.
Arch left through a pair of large doors. Guards chatted with each other, sometimes greeting her as she passed them in the torch-lit hallway. She mostly replied with a "Hello" and a nod. She noticed some people, both guards and regular late-night strollers, staring at her. Of course, she didn't mind. Didn't even feel self-conscious. After a while she stopped noticing them.
She climbed up stairs twice, the sounds of trumpets getting louder if she listened hard. She was tempted to go down one of the stairs that flanked her when she walked through a pair of open doors. One was ominously silent, and the other was filled with vague swearing and yelling. She knew it was a jail. It must have been completely occupied up if what Mehee said was true and she would rather not know what kind of people was down there.
She sooner or later found herself to open sky, huge towers reaching over her. There where no people up here. Two slightly smaller doors, and one huge one. She brought herself to the wall at her right for some reason, noticing and looking up at the moon. The opposite of the sun. Midnight lantern of the Earth.
A glimpse of a vague image was in her mind. Using a little effort, the memory of the ocean came back, but she remembered sand.and something like a mountain. But soon that image faded from her mind. Arch looked below, sand stretching far out. The new Merchant's hall was indeed small in compare to the rest of the castle. She saw Fiargo's soldiers wander around on chocobos. She only looked for about a minute before she heard someone scuffle up behind her.
"'Scuse me, Sir? Did you come with the merchants?" a feminine voice asked. Arch didn't feel offended with the gender mishap. She ~was~ wearing male armor and had short hair. Even she'd be confused about her appearance if she was not herself. Arch turned around, coming to face a teenage girl with brown hair and white, plain clothes with some blue embroidery on the sleeves. Arch knew she was a servant of some sort. Almost automatically the young woman's face of questioning went to embarrassment. "Oh, dear me! I'm sorry! It's just that your armor."
"It's okay! I confuse myself sometimes!" Arch put up both hands, waving them as she grinned. Mistakes did not need to be apologized for, for they were not by intention. The girl's embarrassment of red in her face hushed a bit. Arch quickly answered the girl's question, "Yes. I did come with the merchants."
"Oh thank the Goddesses!" the girl sighed.
~Thewarmtearunningdownthebackofherhroat,onlytoshootitoutofhernoseinlaughter. ~ Arch chuckled at the flashing memory, and the relived look on the young women's face. Somehow the servant girl felt much less emotionally dense about something. Arch picked up an image of a map in the young girl's mind.The desert and the castle pictured on a small continent. North east, across a straight of water, a town in the mountains.Steam.Narshe.
"Do you think you'll be able to get to Narshe soon?" the young woman asked. "I dunno. You'll have to ask the head-merchant of the train. His name is Gorn." Arch said. Her vocabulary was starting to become more functional quickly. The servant looked a little deflated, however. Arch wondered what was on the girl's mind. "Why do you ask?" "Er.My father was a miner up there. Since the world changed I haven't been able to contact him personally, so for the past few years we've been sending letters to each other, but he hasn't said anything for the past week and I don't have the money to travel there. We usually write to each other every other day.My uncle want's to come too. I was hoping I could travel with the train." "How much money do you need to get there and back?" "I'm not coming back." "Oh." "But Uncle Ezoff said it would be at least one thousand GP, but." ~We don't have the money.~
In a flash Arch had the bag of gold in her hand. She was picking through it; five hundred for herself. The girl stood, jaw open. After taking the hand full of gold, the silver-armored woman handed the brown bag out to her. "Take it," she said cheerily, smiling brighter than before.
The girl was reluctant in silence, looking at the money, then to Arch's face. Suddenly tears cornered at her eyes. She took the pouch, in surprise and nervousness. "Th-thank you." she said. The girl didn't know whither to laugh or cry. "Thank you so much.!" With that, the servant girl took a step back, did a small curtsy, and turning she ran away. Arch watched, smiling as the figure became more distant and disappeared into a doorway. She knew the girl's father was ill in Narshe for some time, in a feverish coma for the past seven days. Just as she knew the girl had enough knowledge of herbs to save his life if she got there in time. I~You have my blessings, kid. Good luck! ~/IArch picked up on an old joke between the girl and her uncle from the soft information. She made a low, short laugh. ~Beware of walking cheesecakes.!~
"Oh, that was nice of you." Was it Arch, or did people like to eavesdrop, including her? The mild voice came from the corner of her vision. She calmly turned her head a notch to see who it was.
A servant woman older than the girl, with light pink clothing and blond hair stood in the half-shadows not too far away. She was more than just older than the girl, Arch saw if she looked hard enough, but she was old. Gray streaked her hair and wrinkles edged at her eyes. She had a warm stance to her. "That girl's been agonizing herself over her father till she was like the walking dead," she continued. "She was too shy to ask King Edgar to help, and her Uncle was too proud.Aye, kid's these days.And the men! Och."
~Edgar.Roni..Figaro. ~
~Upsomany,manystairs. Agoldcoinflippingintheair.~
Arch remembered that name too. But it was like a distant ring in the back of her head. She might as well ask."King Edgar?"
"Eh? You don't know King Edgar?" The old woman looked at Arch, strait in the eye, a smile of bemusement tugging at her face. "And where have you been the last four years?" the old woman asked, putting her hands on her hips as she became skeptic. "Either you're one of those fools from Zozo or your one of those odd hermits."
~ Tallbuildingswithshadowyfiguresintherain.Awarmlogcabin.~
"I am neither." This was odd. "Oh, I can see that! Anyone from Zozo who comes within the castle walls is like asking for a death wish or a direct sentence to the underworld if they ran into the merchant train you came from. And no hermit would have such a cuirass as yours. Unless.Do you know of any news from Doma?"
Arch figured cuirass was armor.
"I do not know. I do not come from there." Arch's speech was again advancing as she was becoming more used to talking, but none the less fast. The old woman seemed to think a bit before replying, finger to her lip.
"That so? Then were do you come from? No one wears armor like that anymore. Unless you came from Jidoor."
~Fancymusiccamefrominsidethehouse,thedoorclossingabruptly.~
"I don't know where I come from." The old woman stopped, looking at Arch again. "What do you mean by that?" "I woke up in the desert. The merchants gave me a ride here." The white- haired guest said matter-of-factly. "And you know nothing of before?" Arch nodded. The old woman..Ellaye, she picked up, was staring intensely at her, loosing her smile. Arch held her hands behind her back, calmly returning the woman's gaze. It seemed she was going to explain what little she knew, and answer a lot more questions. Ellaye was thinking.of something. Arch focused to feel what her thoughts were. ~Like that esper-girl Terra.~
~Apendant,firespreadingacrossthemustyground.~
Out loud the she asked, "Do you remember your name?" "Yes." Was all Arch said. Well.It was all that was asked! "And it is.? What?" "Arch Cinaed." "Heh.Sounds ancient to me," Ellaye said, smiling once more. "Maybe you just might be Doman. Or you came from Thamasa. They have funny names there." Doma.She was now having a memory about it, the name familiar.
~Talltowersmadeofstone,surroundeedbyamote.Peoplefalling.falling.~
"Oh! Are you planning to go anywhere?" Ellaye asked. "Excuse me?" "Outside Figaro. Travel?" "Haven't thought about it." This woman seemed to like the fact she was the first person of whom got to meet the odd stranger from the desert and question her for gossip. She knew she was the first because Arch would not be waiting around alone. Ellaye liked to talk. She also knew the younger girl with the absent father in Narshe well, and was for some reason happy and feeling "bound" to Arch for something about the money she gave away. And now Arch thought of it, she didn't know were she was going. Or what she was looking for. Something cold seemed to set in her chest. She shrugged soon after speaking in reply. Ellaye chatted on.
"Ah! Then you won't be leaving soon?" "I don't think so.I might." "I tell you what.I can get you a room in the castle, free of charge so you won't have to sleep at the Inn by the Merchant's Hall every night. From what I hear people make such noise outside no one can sleep anyway! You can probably stay until you want to leave." Arch was picking something up as the woman trailed off. Something of distaste towards someone. She briefly got the picture of a face, but only could visualize baldness and wrinkles. She shrugged it off. It was none of her concern. "I don't know if I'll stay here long." Arch wanted to go off, find whatever was calling to her in the world. Something in her mind ached, reaching for something. She knew she would have to find it, and it wasn't here. "I might go tomorrow." "But you only have five-hundred GP! Are you planning to go to South Figaro?" ".Maybe. I don't know where I'm going." "Looking for what you've lost?" Ellaye smiled, almost deviously. That seemed like a liable explanation. Somehow.Arch knew it was.true. Somehow. ".Yah. I guess. Perhaps I could even find my wits, too." Arch smiled. What a precious joy this world was. And so far it was strange.
All the better.
*
Well, Ellaye got Arch a room in the castle walls pretty quickly. A half- hour, at least. Arch didn't hear what the old woman said to a guard, but she was sooner or later led to a good sized chamber about fifteen feet wide and just as long with a view of the desert from a picture window. Beside the window, on the adjourning wall from the bed, there was a closet of some sort. The bed was made, maroon blankets with white sheets with a wood bedpost. Across from the foot was a simple white bureau sitting next to the closet and above it a picture of some sort of fabulous creature holding stars in it's arms. Or was it its teeth? Either way it was something benevolent. Arch at least got the idea with the light colors and the soft midnight sky.
Ellaye suddenly became hasty once Arch was in the room. The servant-woman clasped her hands together, talking trice as fast as Arch did. She looked at a strange looking wood object on the bureau with a glass face- a clock. "Oh, you must be exhausted from the desert! You can stick your armor on the chair over there. The light's broken, but you can see by the moon, can't you? I'm tired myself, and I have a husband-" The face Arch perceived? "-to get home to. If you need anything, ask a guard. You'll find them somewhere. Usually they tend to nod off, but you'll find one. Good night!" Before Arch could say anything, Ellaye was out the door, closing it for Arch to have peace. Ellaye must have had marriage troubles.
The snowy-haired dreamer scratched her head, glancing out the window briefly. She really didn't feel like taking off her armor. Something told her she shouldn't. Either that or she was just too lazy. Arch shuffled over to the mattress. Although she had what felt as if a decent nap a few hours ago, she was again tired. She flopped on the bed on her stomache, just sinking to it. The framework of the bed was sturdy, but it squeaked with the weight on top of it. The armor and Arch put together was at the least two hundred pounds. More likely two hundred fifty. But at most three hundred.
After laying still for a few moments Arch sank into a near sleep, just laying across the bed in the wrong direction. But something panged in her gut. Her eyes flew open. She had to pee.
It turned out the closet was not a closet. It was a private toilet. The real closet was beside the head of the bed, hidden by the door to the hallway outside when it was opened. Arch couldn't see it when she came in.
And by joyful hell, she wanted the armor off! At least the lower section. She finally was able to get it down anyway and relieve herself. There was even toilet paper. After doing the instinctual duty of most living things that ate, she noticed she wore white leather breeches. That meant she wore complete white under her silver armor. She didn't find it odd in the least.
Arch found the curiosity to pick through the closet after re applying her armor and leaving the bathroom. She considered going back to the bed and not giving a damn if it was empty or not, but she found herself opening the door. Turned out there was something in there. Actually, a lot of stuff, but most of it was empty boxes and linen sheets, plus a quilt. There was a solitary board across the top, a shelf. Arch saw only the vague shape of a box, and decided to pull it down. Why would it be up there if it was not different from the other crates? Turned out, logic was correct. There was a green vile, sparkling oddly in it a neon hue. She felt somewhat arbitrary and selfish to take it, but if no one was using it in a public room, she could use it later, couldn't see? Besides, the box it was in was covered in a fine layer of dust. No one would miss it.
Arch tucked it in the bag with the money, fitting together. She decided to take the GP and the newfound item and stick them in the empty bureau. After that, she fell back into the bed, and the world was sucked to a pleasant oblivion, wearing armor and all.
*
Arch was more impatient than she thought. She had a vague dream about a small silver cylinder object with holes in it. It was identified in her mind as a flute. But it was silver, like her armor. But that's all the dream was about. She had the picture of it in her mind and the sound it made, and that was enough to fuel.something she didn't know how to describe. It was similar to how she felt in the desert, wanting to walk forever until she remembered water. But this was a more lively feeling, making her want to run in circles for the sake of it.
Ellaye was not around as far as Arch could tell this morning. Arch want to go to the market-like scene in the Merchant's Hall, too. The swordless warrior-lady went alone. She had the feeling Ellaye would not be around today. Cleaning other rooms, Arch guessed. She got no telepathic information.
The whole scene seemed amazingly different in daylight. It turned out the Hall had no roof. It was in the shadow of a close tower. Arch was baffled by the strangeness, and burst out laughing when she first walked in. About three people near by stared at her, other glanced. Many of them she did not see in the late crowds of the night. The caravans were somehow transformed into stands holding food, weapons, and more tonics like that of which Arch found in the closet. She was relieved she did not have to walk in the sun like she did to reach the hall, for the tower blocked the light like a giant, leafless tree.
People still stared, although few stopped and actually gaped at her in the midst of their production. But she had many eyes glance her way. She guessed it was her armor, for the people she met so far seemed to make a big deal of it. After a few moments of walking around, glancing at items at the stands and such, she heard some one direct their voice to her from nearby. She had the feeling she was going to have trouble attracting attention for some reason. "You there! How much for that old Doman armor?"
She turned around. It was a merchant she did not recognize. He had a strange sort of black beard, mostly stubble on the chops and a shock of black on the chin. Arch recalled it as a goatee. He wore elaborate red and yellow clothes, something of silk and maybe linen. By the gold he wore, Arch knew he was one who mastered at trade. Some people edged off to a distance as they saw the man confronted her. She stood smiling against the stern faced dealer, her hands behind her back as like when she was walking. Lightly, she replied, "I am sorry. My "wear" is not for sale."
"Five thousand." Arch stood smiling, shaking her head. Why would anyone want her armor, anyway? There were plenty of other good types in the armor, shield, and boots shops. And she liked her armor. The man continued. Arch chuckled at his efforts, however she knew he was just starting. "Ten thousand."
"Nope." "Twenty thousand." Some heads turned. "Nah." "Fine then. I think I see your aim. Fifty thousand." "I am sorry, Sir. As I say again my armor is not for sale." Most people were now watching, turning heads and clicking their tongues in disappointment about Arch's decision. Some people had the look of anxiety in their eyes. But for some reason those people were looking not for the fact of her declines of the large amounts of money, but for the fact of whom she was talking to.
She did not pick up the wealthy merchant's name, but she knew he was not like the ones she traveled with. He had a different reaction from the common people gathering around, and the normal cashires distasted him, almost snarling. He wasn't supposed to be here in the first place. Banned or something. And he used to worship-
~ Kefka.~ ~Ahugetower,stairsandstairs,andstairsreachingtotheblacksky.~
Arch blinked. The vision completely pulled her from what she physically saw, leaving her a blank smiling figure standing with her hands behind her back in a calm position. Odd, she thought amusingly. The merchant was throwing the exchange for a million, becoming more and more agitated as he went, before Arch made a very loud sigh trying to make a passive point of boredom or pity. She grinned a little more when she saw his face starting to turn red. Something of a logical laugh in words played at her lips, "Sir, when I say I will not sell my armor and you persist, you degenerate your self-esteem greatly by working too hard for nothing. I suggest you pay the armor-smiths for a different suit."
"You wench, I will have that armor!" Oh, a temper tantrum. Some people scattered a bit, some making sounds of disgust and others making sounds of shock as the man publicly swore at such a trivial matter. Woman fled, removing children from the area and scowling at the vulgar language. Arch wasn't really aware why, but by the some-what morbid atmosphere suddenly building she was glad they were gone for their own sake. But simotaniously she also noticed there were no guards in the hall itself. Poor stratagy to protect people of Figaro-
~NOW-~
Arch's thoughts ran like a flash, like her visions. But this was sharper. Without cause, Arch went with the torrent of impulses. Her right hand shot up to her face, grabbing a blur of steel. She noticed the position of the "merchant" before she could see what she clutched in her pale hand and pointed between the eyes, just touching the skin. She clamped her jaw shut, preparing for something that would not agree with her senses in the near future.
The man had his legs spread slightly for balance, arm extended with an open hand. He had the expression of anger, a demonic scowl. People started to scream, panic in a flurry to leave. A few people on their toes for the fight stayed near the doors and the steel walls. But Arch stood still as people swarmed away quickly, the simple calm never leaving her as she held the weapon from her brow. But her usual peaceful amusment took on a expressionless and somewhat sad flavor. And a painful one.
Arch just caught the blade of a not-so-dull dirk in her fist, stopping the point just as it touched the skin between her eyes. Red raced down her wrist in streams, her hand still clutching the sharp blade. She did not notice the man's expression turn to horror -or amazement- for her "quick reflexes." She focused on moving her elbow and opening her hand as he stood still in shock. Fire came from the cut muscles and skin in her palm.
It was not all that bad of a wound. She was able to catch the soaring blade in the major crease of the fingers so the stress of pressure from the blade was not tremendous. She stopped the force of the projectile by pinching the flat of the blade against her palm with the rest of the fingers. But there was still a clean cut raked deep across the fingers, as well as a deeper one across her palm. She took her left arm calmly from behind her back. Her right hand burned like hell fire after a few moments and even worse after opening her hand and pulling the blade from her palm with a sick sound of wet blood and muscle tissue. She winced though a mild grin, and dropped the blade to the brick floor with a high-strung clank.
The thief-merchant quickly recovered from his astonishment. He shook his head once in disbelief, but then removed another gleam of light; another blade. But he charged up to Arch this time, pulling the knife back in an under-movement to try and get the space between her breast-plate, shoulder- guards, and arm-guards. But he never got any more than two feet away from her. She practically slid in the dirt out of the way without needing to gradually gain any momentum at all, kicking up sand tracked in by the former shoppers and chocobos. She spun as he came close, her shoulder guards peircing the air. To her it was rediculously easy, evading the thief's attack and making a counter-attack of her own. Her left shoulder felt the force as the huge metal shoulder-plate hit the back of the offender's head.
Then there was silence.
And the man almost flew four feet before hitting the floor with a grunt, limp as a rag-doll. His grip loosened on the knife, and it went skipping on the ground as he hit the thin layer of sand during the charge. Arch found her eye following the flash of metal as it stopped under the boot of a guard, the first in the group that skidded to a stop as it approched the duel site.
She looked at them with the bitter-sweet smile, looking down and shaking her head. She could only know her emotion as sadness. But she had no regret. From her forgotten past she knew she had the right to handicap the former Kefka-worshipper for the fact he drew blood first.
"Sad," Arch muttered lowly. With that, she stood up straight and opened her right fist again and tried her best to pinch the larger of the two wounds in her hand with her fingers, not even looking at the Figaro soldiers. She went to the empty tailor-stand as a few of the officials blinked at her.
She grabbed the first thing she put her hands on, wrapped up her palm, and made a fist to tightening the bandage so the blood would stop as soon as possible. The pain was distant, now however. She might have had an adrenaline rush or was pushing it from her mind because it was not as bad as before. Although she didn't show anything more than a sad smile, in her mind she was somewhat stunned and now highly amused with almost comical hysteria.
Why the hell would someone fight over armor?
Then Arch took attention to the cloth she grabbed, feeling the texture with the left hand as she held it tight. Again she was somewhat deflated. It was beautiful silk, bold and royal blue with gold edges. She ironically ruined it, turning the fibers purple with her scarlet blood. And she knew it was two-hundred and fifty GP. Pushing her wounded hand down on the wood counter to keep the bandage on as the soldiers gathered up the thief-Fanatic, Arch pulled the bag of money from her armor, and dumped half of the contents onto the pile of clothes. The vile also fell out.
Arch paused, reflecting it for a moment. She left it out to tuck the money- bag away. She then reclaimed the small bottle and popped off the top without a second thought. She downed the bitter contents, and as soon as she did so the pain of her wound returned. Intuition must have just called.
"Ma'am.?" A soldier that approached her from behind must have been unsure about her armor's gender illusion again. But Arch approved by nodding her head as she turned to face him, holding her closed fist. "That dirk might be poisoned. Please come with us."
"I've already solved it, my friend," Arch made an attempt for a reassuring laugh. The guy was more scared for having to drag her to the medical quarters from poisoning than for her own health, but she found she didn't like anxiety of any form and hoped to end it without a grudge. "I only ask for some decent bandages and directions to south Figaro. I think the weapon- smith might be able to explain what happened. He had a pretty good view of this game..I think."
Arch only made the young guard afraid of her.
Author noties:
Thankee, Radia, for pointing out the misshap! For those who don't know, I confused Edgar's middle name with Sabin's..X_X
Now a flick preview from "The Night Rain!" ^ ^ --
Ved-"Suurrrreeee..You screw up as soon as we.GET TRAPPED IN A NOT-SO- DORMANT VOLCANO!" O
Ulati-"Only your breath, Vedcano, is just as bad. Is that why your parents named you so weird?" D
Ved-"Yo' Mama." |
Iroot-"I don't get it." @_x