Snow In Ivalice
A Tale of Clan Iris
[Author's Notes] In case you missed it (which would really be too bad, so go read it) this is a continuation of A Company of Outcasts by Vilya 'n' Company. More completely, this is the first real chapter/story in a series that Vilya and I will be writing, all about our original cast, Clan Iris. Vilya's completed the prologue, introducing everyone, so go read that first, then come back here. Done? Good. Then enjoy.
Chapter One: Before The Road Sees Them Coming
"It's about time," said Newander, taking a moment away from working at his desk to watch a moogle and human across the street taking the slightly scorched pumpkins off their building's roof. "I am so glad that's over."
"You would have enjoyed it if you had just dressed up," said Elena, leaning back on the sofa with her feet toward an empty fireplace. "I don't see why you have to resist every chance to have fun."
"That was not fun. That was a combination of pagan rituals and sugar-based anarchy that lasted far too long," the nu mou Black Mage insisted. Of course, if anyone asked, he would react rather badly to being called a Black Mage- Newander intended to be an Alchemist some day, and his desk was proof.
It wasn't really his desk, at least not at first, but now, only a week or two after Clan Iris was formed, the old oak surface was covered from edge to edge with flasks, retorts, glass tubes running into other tubes running to containers that he was apparently trying to set on fire, and tomes written in the ancient sacred runes of Ivalice (with colourful illustrations).
None of the others would go near the thing, especially not when Newander was around. They had been fortunate enough to avoid any more instant trees since their first day as a clan, but Elena doubted that would last for too much longer. Though few guessed it, viera had a strong sense of irony, and she could practically see the cloud of chaos that followed the nu mou through his life, drawn to his wish for controlled knowledge like lightning to tall buildings, and with much the same effect.
"You'd have liked it, Newander, really," she insisted, stretching out as only a feline viera could.
"The only thing I'm glad about is that the others were all so tired from staying up for two days straight that there hasn't been a distraction in hours," he shot back, returning to his desk and adding essence of something to pure whachamacallit extract.
It failed to explode, which might have been a good sign, but just before he meant to stop pouring, there was a sudden loud creak of floorboards and an extra drop tipped in. The compound immediately started fizzing and rotated through a few colours before becoming a noxious pink swirl. With a growl and a sigh, Newander opened a thick iron box, placed the flask inside, and closed it firmly. A moment later there was a sharp, muffled sound and the box jumped half an inch into the air.
Having calmly dealt with the mismatch, Newander spun like a snake on Connor, who stood sleepily in the doorway from the stairs. "Are you incapable of not causing havoc wherever you go?" he demanded, but it didn't have the effect he wanted. Newander might have been the world's only truly angry nu mou, but between the naturally docile face and huge velvety ears, it was hard to be particularly scared by him.
Instead, the soldier (and he was still a soldier when he hadn't remembered to change out of his pyjama shirt) looked over Newander's shoulder and said "That black stuff is about to boil over."
While Newander fiddled with valves and tried not to blow anything up, Connor staggered over to the sofa and collapsed beside Elena. "You and the others have been asleep for about twelve hours," she remarked.
"That's a long time for a soldier," Connor mumbled. "I think it's time for a break, maybe a nap."
"Maybe it's time for everyone to get up. You remember that I took a mission the same day we formed a clan, right?" asked Elena.
"Oh, yeah. There's usually some kind of 'available for whatever number of days' condition, isn't there? How long have we got?" asked the soldier, slowly progressing from 'conscious' to 'awake'. Despite common belief, the two weren't the same, and Connor was the best example Elena had ever seen.
"About thirty hours."
"Location, task, obstacles, sir- uh, ma'am!" Connor nearly barked, leaping to his feet and the rest of the way to 'awake'. Elena was nonplussed.
"We're heading to Sprohm. Apparently there was quite a blaze a couple of weeks ago, and they're still trying to hunt down all the Bombs that scattered when the fire was eventually put out."
"Ma'am, I wish to voice conc-" Halfway through the word 'concerns', Connor seemed to realize how he was speaking. "Elena, if I start doing that again, you can hit me."
"I'll be happy to help if she's busy doing absolutely anything else," Newander volunteered.
With a quick glare at the nu mou, Connor tried again. "We're going to get to Sprohm and hunt down the last of the Bombs in thirty hours? Can't be done."
"We'll see about that. Go get the others," she directed him, waving toward the stairs.
Eventually, the members of Clan Iris had gathered in the main room of their combination home and headquarters, ready to hear Elena's explanation. She had already told the others about the Bombs, and was now explaining her plan for getting to Sprohm in time.
"We just have to head to the pub, find a Gadgeteer, and be really persuasive," she explained. "Get a Red Spring from whatever lucky moogle we pick, I don't care what it takes, and then activate it as soon as we're outside the city."
"Without any other clan to strengthen, it's guaranteed to put all of us at double speed, meaning we can probably run there in a day," Connor finished.
"Less than that," said Kief, still rubbing his wings, which he had apparently slept on the wrong way. "I've felt Haste effects before. You don't get tired, either."
"How do we get one?" asked Victor in his usual rumble. "Do we exsspect to ssimply get a free ssample? You can't ssurvive unless you have money, and mosst people look for it anywhere they can."
"Occasionally, moogles are actually nice, generous people, thank you," said Kief, frowning. "Not like those huge carnivorous lizards stomping around these days starting fights, what are they called…"
"Bangaa are a proud people, but we do not battle pointlessly," Victor retorted.
"Oh, come on. Everyone knows that the bangaa nickname for any moogle is 'appetizer'."
"I thought the whole reason we formed a clan was so that we didn't have to listen to this sort of thing any more," Newander muttered. Kief and Victor looked at each other.
"Flopsy is right," Kief admitted.
"My apologiess," said Victor, still in a grumble, but the rest of Clan Iris had learned by now that this was his normal speaking voice.
"But without a Gadgeteer, how are we going to use a Red Spring?" asked Connor.
"The Spring itself isn't really a physical thing," said Maya, predictably quiet. "The Gadgeteer creates it, at first through the power of the weapon, until it imprints at a deeper level, but if we're careful, we should be able to transport it inside a Pandora Box until we're beyond the edge of Cyril."
"Where does she get these ideas? First healing Vic right between the eyes with that Cure Staff, now carrying around Pandora Boxes like a bag lunch," Kief remarked to Elena.
"Why did we wait for so long before setting out, anyway?" asked Newander. The idea of sprinting to another city didn't sound like fun for the nu mou, coming from a species better known for spiritual strength and legs like a nonathletic kangaroo.
"I didn't think we should set out immediately after becoming a clan, when no one had heard of us and we barely knew each other. And then there was the Halloween-"
"Fiasco," Newander interjected.
"My Fortress of Toffee was not a fiasco, it was a marvel of construction," Kief retorted.
"It was certainly impressive when one of the Black Mages used Fire too near the south wall. Have you got that out of your fur yet?" asked Newander.
"Shove off, Flopsy."
"Then there was Halloween, which was a lot of fun, and then there's been some recovering," Elena finished at last. She was beginning to find that it was easier to ignore the occasional bickering than try to resolve it, and none of them ever seemed really angry anyway.
"Sso now we can charge off half-ready to Ssprohm, with no one ever having heard of uss and capable of getting into an argument at the flick of a tongue," said Victor. He noticed the weird look he was getting from Maya. "I think it's usually 'the drop of a hat' in human, but bangaa rarely bother with ssuch things. Aside from helmetss, but those aren't designed to come off eassily, particularly the Gladiator dessign, which is only possible to remove with very sspecial tools or a precissely placed quantity of blast powder-"
"I think we've found the only talkative bangaa in the world," Connor remarked.
"I was a blacksmith for the Ssprohmknightss," he explained, a little quieter. A moment later, the open face had been replaced with his usual stony visage- watching carefully, but giving nothing away. Maya shot a disapproving look at Connor, but it was gone again just as fast.
"I suppose the next thing you're going to say is something like 'we have no time to waste'," Newander muttered, looking back to Elena.
"No. I'm a fencer. We don't mince words. I'm going to say pack up, Clan Iris, and let's hit the road before it sees us coming."
Elena strode into the pub fearlessly, taunting danger, asking for any one of the many thugs who no doubt frequented the place to just try to give her trouble. They didn't seem to notice. Possibly they had taken an early lunch.
The others followed her, mostly without any trepidation. Maya was still a little uneasy in such places, but Halloween and had been an interesting experience for her, and the effects hadn't worn off yet. The human White Mage had dressed herself as a Paladin for reasons not yet clear to the rest of the clan, and had pulled off a solid impression of one of the gallivanting wanderers, complete with arrogance and sense of drama.
"How do we know a Gadgeteer on sight?" asked Connor.
"They're the only ones who would dare wear that sort of idiotic hat in public," Newander replied.
"Have you seen an Alchemist hat recently? Or ever, for that matter?" asked Kief.
"There'ss one over there," said Victor, pointing across the room at a large round table with what was probably every member of a good-sized clan sitting around it, celebrating a successful mission. "The moogle in blue over there."
"H-her?" said Kief. "You're just going to walk up to her?"
"That wass the idea," said Victor, looking sidelong at the moogle.
"Well, I… um… wow, you are brave… go for it, Vic."
"Is something wrong with you?" asked Connor, bewildered.
"Just look at her!" he spluttered.
"Uh… looks like a moogle," said Connor. "Possibly female, I guess."
"Possibly?" Kief repeated, astonished.
"Can we dispense with the fuzzy midget's apprehensions and get moving? I want to be back in Cyril in time for the half-moon," said Newander. Connor was only beginning to open his mouth when the nu mou turned sharply on him. "And no, you can't ask."
The clan moved as one across the crowded room -Kief refused to move any closer to her without a protective wall of clanmates on all sides- until they stood beside the table. Maya found herself closest to the Gadgeteer, but the moment she realized it, she sidestepped to let Elena forward.
"Excuse me," said Elena, and the Gadgeteer turned away from the story being told by an old (not truly old, but old for a warrior) Templar on the other side of the round table. "We need a Red Spring, and thought you might be able to help us."
"Red Spring," the moogle echoed. "I don't see a Gadgeteer among your number, so I don't think my Rising Sun knuckles are going to be any use to you..."
"You misunderstand. We're interested in the Spring itself. We'll need one to get to Sprohm in less than a day," said Elena, matter-of-factly.
"Two at leasst," Victor added, whispering into one of Elena's long ears.
"Two Red Springs. How could we pay you?" asked the viera, not letting go of the subject.
"But there's only a fifty-percent chance that…" The Gadgeteer trailed off, starting to understand Elena's idea. "Oh, that's tricky. I like it. To get to Sprohm that quickly? Two Springs won't do it. And you'll need Pandora Boxes to hold them until you're ready to use them…"
"Whether it will work or not isn't our primary concern," said Elena. "What-"
"Form of payment, I get the idea, yes. All right." The Gadgeteer tapped a finger against her chin thoughtfully. "Three Springs, and the boxes to hold them… No problem." She turned away, fumbling in her Gadgeteer uniform's inner pockets and backpack. A few moments later, she turned back, holding a trio of small metal chests in her arms. They sparkled strangely through the space between base and lid, but seemed secure. "Here you go."
Elena was only halfway into asking what they could trade in return when Connor blurted out "Free?" causing Newander and Victor to fire annoyed looks at him.
"I consider it a good down payment that you've just given me the idea of using Red Springs for long-distance transport," she explained. "But if you insist…"
"Oh, no, that's okay, wouldn't want to trouble you," said Connor, quickly.
The Gadgeteer turned on Kief, who she had apparently not even noticed until this moment. At the sight of her grin, he yelped quietly and vanished behind Victor. The bangaa shoved him back into the open. "Where do you live?" she asked.
Kief wobbled for a moment, then shook his head. "Sorry? I just had the strangest hallucination."
Elena, not daring to risk their deal, had already scribbled the street and number on a piece of parchment, which she handed over dutifully. "We should be back in three or four days."
"Well, they will," said Kief, slipping in front of Elena. "But I was already thinking of staying-"
"Thanks," said Elena, as Victor picked Kief up and hauled him away in midair by one leg.
"Wait! I didn't get her name!" Kief protested.
"And she didn't get yourss. Romantic, isn't it?" said Victor. "Newander, Connor, bring those boxess. We have a long way to go before the day iss over."
[Rest of the Author's Notes] And now that you're done, hit the button down there to review. By the way, to the crazed individual who accused Vil of creating extra accounts to praise her own story: we've got better things to do, and I'm betting you do too, so get.