Within Holy Walls
By Tenshi no Ai
(C) Square Enix
Five: Paperweight (weighing down my soul)
-0-
"Reis, could you do me a favor?"
I look up and to my left, where Verden is standing with a stack of books in his arms. I lower my pen as he places the stack on the edge of the table. "Of course." My face feels like it's going to split because of my smile. If I do a favor, that means that I won't be reading this book while I'm carrying out the favor! Of course, it just means I'll have to translate later, but I could really use a break. And glass is no substitute for feeling the sun against my skin...
Verden looks sort of embarrassed, which I think is a welcome change from his normal serenity. "I've got to figure out what to say for tomorrow's sermon, but these books need to be delivered to the knights. Could you take these down to them for me?"
I've been attending Sunday sermons faithfully ever since I arrived in Lionel. I don't think I can get away with skipping church in favor of work anymore, just because it's hard to convince myself that I'd rather work than...well, not. I don't normally see Verden on Saturdays because he spends the day writing out his sermons, which I'll admit aren't as bad as reading Saint Ajora's prophecies.
Wait...
Take books over to the knights' barracks.
Knights' barracks...
"I'd love to, Verden," I say, feeling strangely renewed.
My face will crack soon if I keep this smiling thing up, but does that really matter when I actually mean it?
-0-
Verden had warned me that the books were very heavy--which makes me wonder why he asked me to take these books instead of, I don't know, someone who looks like they can handle the weight?--but they're actually pretty manageable. Judging by the titles on the spines of the tomes, they're all about magical applications. The top book's title is Secrets of the Eastern Lands: Basic Oracle Edition.
A spellbook...since Beowulf seems to be pretty learned in magic already, I guess there are other knights training to become Temple Knights.
The knights' barracks are only a short distance away, but it's such a nice day...cloudless, warm, with a slight breeze every once in a while. It's so pleasant for an April midday. Is this Verden's way of getting me outside more often?
He's such a thoughtful person.
As I approach the closed door of the barracks, I can't help but notice that it's as empty now as it was a few days ago. If there's no one there, what do I do with these books?
I smile. I guess that means I'll have to wait until someone arrives...
Shifting the weight of the books so that my right hand supports most of the weight, I reach out and knock on the wooden door with my left hand.
"Come in!" Ah, that's Beowulf's voice. He sounds pretty far away, even with my abnormal hearing. There's no movement inside, so he must be the only person there. I push open the door and walk inside, then pause to take in my surroundings.
Geez. Even goblins live in cleaner surroundings.
This front room is long, then immediately tightens into a hallway. I can hear the shuffling of paper, the occasional scraping of pen against paper beyond the hallway. There are beds along the sides of the room, which are in the 'two-tier' fashion. Haven't seen that in years. There are six on each side, footboards pointing towards the center of the room. There's twenty-four in total.
I scrunch up my nose. It certainly smells like it; sweat and metal and the unique scent of human males make up the composition of the room's air. It's not unbreathable, but I leave the door open anyway. There are windows between each of the beds, giving the room plenty of light, and I fight the urge to open those as well.
By each of the beds are strange things messily holding up various pieces of armor; about a quarter of these things are missing armor.
If six people are on patrol, then where are the other seventeen knights?
...I guess they have lives.
There are various articles of clothing scattered about the room, and I try my best to avoid them as I walk towards the hallway. The set of beds on the left side closest to the hallway seem to be very orderly compared to the general state of the rest of the room, with one set of armor neatly placed on the strange hanger-like thing, and no barrier of clothes surrounding this structure of tiered beds.
...Would it be too much to hope that this nicely-placed armor is Beowulf's?
Adjusting my hold on the books, I make my way through the small hallway and end up in a small office of sorts. There are two open windows on the walls to the left and right of me. This room is mostly bare except for a desk loaded with paper, and at this desk is Beowulf, who seems wholly absorbed with reading something to notice me. I clear my throat and he casually looks up, smiling instantly when he sees me. "What are you doing here?" he asks, although it sounds more like, 'Thank God you're here!'
...I wish.
Wait, what am I thinking? I'm here to deliver books, not think weird thoughts and make him think that I'm 'having a conversation with myself' again. I raise the stack of books in my arms up slightly. "I'm here to deliver these."
He gets up and walks over to me, curiosity his dominant expression as he takes them out of my arms. "Buremonda, huh?" He looks down and reads the top book's title, "I didn't ask for any books," he mutters.
"They aren't for any of the other knights?" The look on his face...he's not pleased about this. He's so open with his feelings, but with that blank look...
"Hn." He looks up from the books to my face, smiling slightly. "It's nothing." He looks at the desk, which resembles a controlled disaster area, then bends down and places the tomes next to the desk. "So, how are you doing? Were you able to fix your mantle?"
"I'm fine." I can't really complain. "I haven't had the time to mend my mantle yet..."
He nods, then walks back to his seat, looking at me after he sits with a rather pained smile. "Sorry, but I've got a lot of paperwork to do."
I can see that. "I didn't think that being a leader entailed so much paperwork..."
"Neither did I, when I first arrived here..." Beowulf shrugs. "But there's so much all the time. I've got to arrange just where new knights should be stationed in Lionel, handle transfers for veteran knights, figure out patrol schedules, deal with prisoners, and decide where the funds that the Church allots to us should go..." He rakes through his hair with both hands, then looks at me tiredly. "Am I boring you?"
"Not at all." I smile. I thought a leader of a group of knights would just be the best at swordplay, not necessarily intelligence. I didn't realize that he would be so busy just keeping up with the functioning of the knights. And he patrols too. Even with all that, he still went out of his way to help me. That's a whole day that he could've spent working. On his desk, there's a whole day's work that he could've already finished, that shouldn't be there now.
I feel a bit guilty, but...
I look down. "Should I leave you alone?"
"No, that's okay," he says quickly, then grins and shakes his head. "I mean, you can stay a while if you like."
And even if I'm a distraction, he still wants me around. I'm not sure why he would want me around, but I know exactly why I want to be around him. He makes me feel...alive.
I like that.
I look around his tiny office...there's nothing really interesting here. Beowulf has gone back to reading and occasionally scribbling something on a paper.
Eh...?
What's this?
On the tallest stack of paper on Beowulf's desk is a stone. It's...pretty; a deep, dark blue and shaped to look vaguely like a pitcher, with two squiggly lines on it.
It looks too nice to be a paperweight...
I reach out and pick it up. It's not too weighty and cool to the touch. "What's this?" I ask him, holding the stone out to him. He looks up, eyes widening slightly at the stone.
"It's a paperweight."
Yes, I realize that. I bring up the stone so that it's eye level with me. "It's kind of...nice to be a paperweight, don't you think?"
Now he looks thoughtful. "It's actually a family heirloom, but it makes a good paperweight."
"You're using a family heirloom as a paperweight?" I ask, feeling slightly incredulous. He looks fairly amused at my words.
"Well, Sis wanted to cut it up and make earrings out of it." He smiles. "Should I have let her?"
That seems worse, actually. I shake my head. "What are these squiggly lines?" I hold the stone out towards him, pointing the lines out with my right index finger. He looks at them, then at me.
"It's a Zodiac sign. Aquarius." He looks faintly surprised that I would ask that. "You do know about the Zodiac signs, don't you?"
I look away. "Yes, but only my own."
"What is it?" He looks interested. Why? Zodiac signs and their meanings don't mean anything.
"Pisces. My birthday's February twenty-sixth."
He makes a small noise as some sort of comprehension flutters across his face. I wish I knew why. "I'm a Libra. October fourth." He looks directly into my eyes, looking pleased. "We're compatible."
I stare at him. Compatible? Yes, I do think we get along pretty well, which really surprises me. I'm pretty happy about it too, I guess... "Thank you for noticing," I say. I didn't realize that Beowulf was dense...
His smile widens. "Can I have my paperweight back?" I shrug and hold it out to him. He grasps it...and my hand. He's not wearing gloves...this is the first time he's touched me without gloves on. His hand is rough and warm...
This is nice...
"Kadmus, why is the door open?" That gruff voice...Chiroseau? I spin around, dropping the stone into Beowulf's hand as I do so, and I take my first look at the man I had heard talking to Beowulf a few days ago.
He's...tall. Maybe even taller than Beowulf? And significantly older than Beowulf, what with that short salt-and-pepper hair and the slight wrinkles gracing his face. He has a masculine facial structure and dark blue eyes, and in a uniform that looks exactly like Beowulf's, black with gold buttons and that scarf. He's in his forties for sure.
"Chiroseau," Beowulf says from his seat behind me, "this is Reis Dular, the cataloguer from Murond. Reis, this is Jeffre Chiroseau. He's second in command here."
Chiroseau smiles at me, nodding slightly. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Reis."
I bow slightly. "Likewise, Sir Chiroseau."
He has something of an accent...is he from northern Ivalice?
Chiroseau looks over at Beowulf. "Still behind?" Beowulf simply sighs in response, and I turn in time to see him write something. The stone--I refuse to think of it as a paperweight--is back on the stack of papers. I look over at Beowulf, and I'm struck with how young he looks compared to Chiroseau. With such an age difference, I would think that the elder would be the leader, and the younger would be the second in command. It seems a bit weird to have it the other way around...especially since Beowulf really looks--acts--like he's a couple years within my age.
"Is something on your mind?"
I look over at Chiroseau. "Well, I was thinking..." I say slowly, and he nods encouragingly, "considering that you are older, why aren't you the leader?"
He looks at me oddly, even as Beowulf's pen still scratches on. "Miss Reis, how old do you think Kadmus is?"
The pen stops its scratching as I look over at a plainly interested Beowulf. Clear, slightly tanned skin, no wrinkles, and that boyish smile... "Around my age, I suppose."
Beowulf gives me an odd look. What's that for?
"And just how old are you, Miss Reis?" I turn back to Chiroseau.
"I'm twenty-one."
The room fills with the chuckling of two men. I feel very stupid now. When I didn't talk, didn't express my thoughts, I wasn't subjected to feeling like an idiot on what seems to be a fairly regular basis. Why did I even start this self-abusive act of opening my mouth and letting words flow?
"Reis..." Beowulf chuckles lightly, "I'm twenty-seven."
...What?
"He doesn't look like it, does he?" Chiroseau says.
Well, that's only a small part of it! "He doesn't act like it," I tell the older knight, and he starts laughing loudly.
"Hey..." Beowulf says, and when I turn to him he smiles at me, "I'll consider that a compliment just because you said it."
I return his smile, feeling embarrassed. I should really watch what I say before opening my mouth.
"Well, that's true that he doesn't act his age," Chiroseau says, moving slightly to the left. Good, now I don't have to keep turning between the two men. "But, that's to his benefit. We call him 'Beowulf the Fair'..."
"'Fair...Haired'?" I ask when it seems as if he is lingering on the word 'fair'.
Chiroseau shakes his head. "No, although that could work too...it's just 'fair'. That's because he's always level-headed and kind at crucial moments. At most, he only gets mildly irritated or fairly annoyed, but in all his time here he's been calm and thoughtful. There aren't many other men who can claim that. That's why he's our leader."
I glance over at Beowulf, who slightly shakes his head when he notices my eyes on him. "That's a bit much..." he says, his cheeks tinged red.
"He is also a magical adept," Chiroseau nods, "it's just too bad his swordplay is horrendous."
Beowulf's slightly embarrassed look quickly modifies itself to a more blank expression as he looks over at Chiroseau. "Thank you."
I lower my head. "Is that why you dispatched that thief with a Temple Knight spell instead of with your sword?"
"Well..." His face looks a bit...pensive? "If bloodshed can be avoided, then that's the best course of action. At least, that's what I think."
He said that...and that hurts, somehow. "Were...were you ever involved in the war?" The question tumbles out of my mouth, and I know I probably shouldn't have asked, but...
"...From a young age. In Lesalia--that's where I'm from--it's nearly impossible to get out of going to war if you're young and able to hold a sword." He smiles in a way that's nearly painful to see, then goes back to reading his papers.
There are a lot of knights in Murond who had participated in the war, and they turned to the Church because the war gets to them, burrows under their skin and never really gets out again. I've heard some of them talk...they never noticed me, but I listened.
I listen, and I remember.
Everyone's affected by the war.
I...
"It's really too bad, but you're lucky," Chiroseau suddenly says. We both look at him. What's so lucky about going to war at a young age? "I mean, Lesalia's very progressive in everything. Aren't they the first province to allow coed troops?"
"Well, I don't know about you, but being on the battlefield for most of my life wasn't exactly conducive to finding a nice girl to bring home to meet my sister," Beowulf retorts, sounding a touch put out. I keep my eyes on Chiroseau; he seems fairly amused.
"It was for me," he says, and Beowulf grunts at this.
"Shouldn't you be writing a letter to your daughter or something?"
Chiroseau nods. "I was waiting until the next mail delivery, but I'll leave you to your work." He nods to me and walks out of the office. I turn to Beowulf, who gives me an apologetic look.
"Sorry, but I really need to finish up before patrol tonight. I...I'll see you soon, hopefully."
"Alright," I say, feeling a tinge of...disappointment? I turn and leave, walking through the hallway and nearly bumping into Chiroseau on the way out. "Oh, I'm sorry!" I bow in apology. I'm not always so unobservant...
He smiles comfortingly at me. "Don't mind this old man. I'm just surprised that you would be leaving so soon."
"Beowulf needs to work," he's already spent too much time on me...
"Hm..." His eyes crinkle as he smiles fondly at me. "You're like my daughter. The same height, the same consideration for others..."
It's not really consideration so much as guilt. "Where does your daughter live?"
"Bervenia, with her younger brother and their nanny."
Nanny? "Where is their mother?"
"She's..." Chiroseau turns away, but not before I see his dark eyes narrow. "She's gone..."
My hands fly up to my mouth. What kind of person am I, just asking questions so bluntly and not expecting an answer like that? "I'm sorry," I whisper as something clenches my stomach.
Mama...
He turns back to me, then reaches out and gently pats the top of my head. "She's not dead, child. At least, not that I know of."
"She's gone, but not dead?" That doesn't make any sense...
"When you meet and quickly marry without completely knowing your partner, then leave for the war, well..." I look up at him and he gives me a small, sad smile. "Let that be a lesson to you, Miss Reis. Don't assume that all you need is love. Love is not the basis for a stable marriage."
Love...huh. "I see. I should go now, Verden's probably wondering what's taking me so long."
Chiroseau moves away, a thick coat of sadness still cloaking him. "...Buremonda? Hn. Well, thank you for listening to this old man, and just think about what I said."
I nod. "I don't love anyone anyway," and I walk out of the barracks and close the door, leaning on it afterward.
Love isn't my concern. My only concern is myself.
In this day and age, the only person I can depend on is myself.
After all, everyone else can just fade away...
"Kadmus, what are these books doing here?"
I perk up. The voice is faint because of the thick door, but if I press my ear against the door...
"Reis brought those over."
"But...we don't need these books. There's only two Temple Knights here, you and me. No one's training to be one, either. What is he trying to say with this?"
"I...don't know. If he wants to play this game, let him. I just don't like how he used Reis for this."
"Hn. Well, as long as he's just being condescending, then I don't care so much. Why didn't you send them back with Miss Reis?"
"I'll take them over. Reis is...I won't use Reis in this petty little thing with Buremonda."
"I see. That's probably the best way."
I move away from the door and start drifting back to the church. I don't feel well.
And here I thought that Verden was so thoughtful, so kind, so...
If it's true that Verden was using me for whatever reason, then...no. I don't know. Can that really be true? I don't want to believe it when he's been so kind to me.
All this shows is that people can't be trusted. They're not dependable at all. I was just thinking that! They can't be depended on if what they're going to do is smile at you while holding a dagger behind their back. And you can't tell who is doing that...and who is sincerely smiling at you.
What is going on between Verden and Beowulf...?
-End to Five-
I really hope that no one's expecting some blatantly obvious romance and heavy drama yet. I like this pace that I'm maintaining, but is it going too slow for you?
According to the game, Pisces has 'Good' compatibility with Libra. Oddly enough, this doesn't work the other way around. This is according to the game when you press 'select' next to the astrological sign. And yes, those really are Reis and Beowulf's real birthdays in the game.
Reviewer!
Mavina, that really sucks. Have you contacted Xing, the creator of about it yet? I'd like to read something of yours, actually. I really appreciated your comment about how the characters seem real, because that's really my main concern. And about different characterization...well, it's the game's fault for not giving them personalities to begin with. ; By the way, I more or less update on a weekly basis, so you don't have to keep saying 'please update'. ;
Thank you for reading! I'll be happy if you review, but if you're still interested in the story despite its slow progression, that's a big enough compliment anyway.
Chapter 6: Our Place (Facing Homeward): 'As we sit, his hand on top of mine, his thumb lazily stroking the juncture between my thumb and index finger, I feel strangely relaxed. Almost peaceful.
What a wonderful feeling...'