Oh, pooh. I couldn't wait around long enough for more reviews so I gave you
one anyway Merry Christmas.
Disclaimer: ..I don't even see the point of these things. Obviously, if you're on this site and you're writing a fanfic for this story, then do you own the game/book/whatever? No.
-
"Find a table and get some food," Liam ordered. "I'm going to go look for another mission." He headed for the bar, manned by a threadbare old man, while the rest of the clan moved to occupy several tables in the corner of the pub. Ishro, the Nu Mou Illusionist, left to order some food just as Liam returned.
He took a seat next to Ayame, shaking his head. "There were hardly any worthwhile missions, so I set up a dispatch for you, Viola. Here are the details." Viola, a Red Mage, took the disc he handed her and slotted it into her computer. "You leave in the morning."
Ayame cleared her throat. "I think maybe we should talk. . .about a lot of stuff." Everybody turned to look at her. She felt the heat rise to her face again and tried to push it back. "For instance, what were you doing in the palace in the first place? Why did you free me, but none of the other prisoners? I wish I knew my own past, too. . .but you can't answer that question, so I'll have to solve it myself."
Liam ran his finger slowly along the blunt metal edge of the table. "Those aren't simple answers you're asking for, you know. There's a lot more behind this than you know." He took a deep breath, wondering why he was even bothering to do this, and plunged in.
"We were in the palace on a mission. Sounds simple enough, right? Well, the funny thing was, the mission request was signed by Prince Madi. The wording of the mission was strange as well. Here-" He tapped his computer screen a few times and handed it to Ayame. She gazed at it in puzzlement, reading the glowing green words on the screen.
Reserve Mission
If you are strong of body and strong of mind, then come to the palace at midnight. The old tree has your ticket inside. Your fate depends on your
success.
Madi
"It made no sense, but if it was illegal, it wouldn't be in a publicly accessible place, would it? So we went. There's only one tree left in the gardens, all the others died. But the only thing we could find near the tree was a normal servant's door, so we went in." He paused to nod in thanks as their food arrived. "You know the rest-we battled the guards, found you, and left the same way we came in. It still doesn't make sense, though-we didn't get a reward, there seemed to be no point to the mission; in fact, it didn't even seem like a real mission. However, we did find this."
He passed to her a small, nondescript dagger, dulled from long years of use and with an old-fashioned leather-bound hilt. "It was lying directly outside your cell; I'm surprised the guards hadn't found it before that. We don't know what it is, but we kept it anyway.
"In answer to your other question. . ." Liam halted uneasily. "The story behind that contains a prophecy that everyone in Ivalice knows. It was made ten years ago, by a renowned mage named Yilga as he lay dying. He said, 'One day there will come a girl of much power and wisdom, from another world. Ye shall know her by her hair of ebony, eyes of jade, and the star she carries on her palm. She will remember nothing of her past life and know nothing of magic or combat; but she will bring Ivalice back to the peace it once held, with the aid of the descendant of our legendary hero, Marche. And her name will be. . .'"
Liam stopped talking. "He died then, and nobody will ever know the name he was about to say. But I remember this prophecy more than most-because I am the descendant of Marche."
Ayame had gone pale white when he'd mention the scar, clenching her left fist so tightly that her ragged nails bit into her palm. When he uttered the last sentence, she gasped so sharply that Liam caught her arm, alarmed that she would faint from the shock. "Ayame, show me your hand." The order came kindly yet firmly, and slowly the fist uncurled. There, directly in the center of her palm, was a faint white outline of a six-pointed star.
Ayame shook her head, tears blurring her vision. "I. . .I don't know where that came from! I just can't remember! It could be a birthmark-or a scar-I don't know! I don't know!" She gabbled the words out in a panic. It was too much; only a few hours out of the prison she'd been locked in for months, and already an enormous burden had descended on her shoulders. Liam gently placed his hand over her mouth, silencing her. "Get a good night's rest," he urged her quietly. "It won't seem so bad in the morning."
Ayame squeezed her eyes shut, wiping tears from the corners. "All right." she agreed in a tiny voice. Liam stood, helping her up, and showed her to a small, shabby room in the back of the pub, leaving her there. She lay down immediately and tried to sleep, but sleep was a long time in coming to her troubled mind.
Disclaimer: ..I don't even see the point of these things. Obviously, if you're on this site and you're writing a fanfic for this story, then do you own the game/book/whatever? No.
-
"Find a table and get some food," Liam ordered. "I'm going to go look for another mission." He headed for the bar, manned by a threadbare old man, while the rest of the clan moved to occupy several tables in the corner of the pub. Ishro, the Nu Mou Illusionist, left to order some food just as Liam returned.
He took a seat next to Ayame, shaking his head. "There were hardly any worthwhile missions, so I set up a dispatch for you, Viola. Here are the details." Viola, a Red Mage, took the disc he handed her and slotted it into her computer. "You leave in the morning."
Ayame cleared her throat. "I think maybe we should talk. . .about a lot of stuff." Everybody turned to look at her. She felt the heat rise to her face again and tried to push it back. "For instance, what were you doing in the palace in the first place? Why did you free me, but none of the other prisoners? I wish I knew my own past, too. . .but you can't answer that question, so I'll have to solve it myself."
Liam ran his finger slowly along the blunt metal edge of the table. "Those aren't simple answers you're asking for, you know. There's a lot more behind this than you know." He took a deep breath, wondering why he was even bothering to do this, and plunged in.
"We were in the palace on a mission. Sounds simple enough, right? Well, the funny thing was, the mission request was signed by Prince Madi. The wording of the mission was strange as well. Here-" He tapped his computer screen a few times and handed it to Ayame. She gazed at it in puzzlement, reading the glowing green words on the screen.
Reserve Mission
If you are strong of body and strong of mind, then come to the palace at midnight. The old tree has your ticket inside. Your fate depends on your
success.
Madi
"It made no sense, but if it was illegal, it wouldn't be in a publicly accessible place, would it? So we went. There's only one tree left in the gardens, all the others died. But the only thing we could find near the tree was a normal servant's door, so we went in." He paused to nod in thanks as their food arrived. "You know the rest-we battled the guards, found you, and left the same way we came in. It still doesn't make sense, though-we didn't get a reward, there seemed to be no point to the mission; in fact, it didn't even seem like a real mission. However, we did find this."
He passed to her a small, nondescript dagger, dulled from long years of use and with an old-fashioned leather-bound hilt. "It was lying directly outside your cell; I'm surprised the guards hadn't found it before that. We don't know what it is, but we kept it anyway.
"In answer to your other question. . ." Liam halted uneasily. "The story behind that contains a prophecy that everyone in Ivalice knows. It was made ten years ago, by a renowned mage named Yilga as he lay dying. He said, 'One day there will come a girl of much power and wisdom, from another world. Ye shall know her by her hair of ebony, eyes of jade, and the star she carries on her palm. She will remember nothing of her past life and know nothing of magic or combat; but she will bring Ivalice back to the peace it once held, with the aid of the descendant of our legendary hero, Marche. And her name will be. . .'"
Liam stopped talking. "He died then, and nobody will ever know the name he was about to say. But I remember this prophecy more than most-because I am the descendant of Marche."
Ayame had gone pale white when he'd mention the scar, clenching her left fist so tightly that her ragged nails bit into her palm. When he uttered the last sentence, she gasped so sharply that Liam caught her arm, alarmed that she would faint from the shock. "Ayame, show me your hand." The order came kindly yet firmly, and slowly the fist uncurled. There, directly in the center of her palm, was a faint white outline of a six-pointed star.
Ayame shook her head, tears blurring her vision. "I. . .I don't know where that came from! I just can't remember! It could be a birthmark-or a scar-I don't know! I don't know!" She gabbled the words out in a panic. It was too much; only a few hours out of the prison she'd been locked in for months, and already an enormous burden had descended on her shoulders. Liam gently placed his hand over her mouth, silencing her. "Get a good night's rest," he urged her quietly. "It won't seem so bad in the morning."
Ayame squeezed her eyes shut, wiping tears from the corners. "All right." she agreed in a tiny voice. Liam stood, helping her up, and showed her to a small, shabby room in the back of the pub, leaving her there. She lay down immediately and tried to sleep, but sleep was a long time in coming to her troubled mind.