All Characters Discussed herin are property of squaresoft, they aren't
mine, I'm not profiting from this piece of writing, its mostly for my own
piece of mind. Thanks for all the reviews everyone, you know, I think I
shall continue this fic, keep checking for updates!
I'm tired. My brain is still fuzzy, as though there is a permanent layer of haze just barely covering me over. Gradually I can slowly feel that misty drifting feeling give way to searing pain. Slowly I managed to creak my eyes open, though I can't say it did any good. Though it didn't do much good at first, blood trickled into them from somewhere and a multitude of wood splinters and debris surrounded me on all sides. I found I couldn't lift my left arm, the Genji shield missing. My body was pinned by some heavy weight, and my left leg I couldn't feel really at all. But my back, against the piles of what used to be Murond was a rife with a burning pain. I raised a heavy gauntleted fist into the air, trying to focus, to pull out hidden reserves, 'Chakra' my mind exploded with a sharp intensity, dispelling the haze and alleviating the pain for a precious few minutes.
I barely managed to raise my head, draped over me was the protective form of Agrias Oaks, the shield on her back and her prone position across my chest covering me, her armor was covered in matchwood and layers of dust. Her bodyguard instincts must have kicked in, when Ajora obliterated the airship graveyard. Her face was crumpled on my left shoulder, a mess of cuts and scratches and a dozen bleeding wounds that were dripping slowly onto my own armor. I couldn't move my left arm still, pinned down by her heavy armor clad form, so instead I focused will again, this time for her trying to come up with enough power for another Chakra.
It felt like hours. A dark overcast sky bristling with thunder and lightning, a stiff wind blowing the dust in my eyes, but hardest to take of all was the barely breathing form of my friend draped over my chest. Emotion welled up in my chest, but I didn't even have the strength to cry, I couldn't do anything. Some great hero I was, son of legendary Balbanes, slayer of Lucavi demons, preventer of the apocalypse, lying here in the refuse of a city unable to get up.
The sheer panic began to slowly pull me into it's grip, who else survived? What if I was the only one? And did it really matter? I was probably going to be found lying here dead in the ruins of Death City Murond amid the corpses of my friends. Do I deserve to live? Time stopped as a thousand thoughts whirled through my head, like being in the middle of a hurricane able to see every single raindrop. It was as though every life was placed before me, spinning around too fast to see, on their own predetermined courses, broken apart from each other, ripped from their groups to find their own places to land.
My eyes turned to Agrias, her face on my shoulder. It was funny, in a stupid observant sense; I don't think I'd ever seen her look peaceful in all our adventures, until now. She never looked more beautiful than that. Even covered in dust and blood, spit and grime, I wouldn't have had a better companion at my side, a truer friend. Aside from my own sister, there was no one else I would place my life in so easily.
Black edges crept into my vision, and the world began to lilt crazily, I wanted to move, wanted to scream, to leap, to even cry. But nothing escaped my lips beyond a paltry few words. "I love you, Agrias." And then?it all fell into oblivion.
----- ----- -----
Words hummed at the edge of my consciousness. Something, infinitesimal, beyond, just beyond my grasp, like reaching from beneath a heavy blanket for that first cold pitcher of water in the morning. It called to me, my name, I think? My eyes had a hard time obeying; exhaustion had smothered me like quicksand, invading my senses, dragging me down into a numbness that I had never felt before. What was it, who was calling to me? What was so important that it had to disturb me from my rest?
"...Agrias." My name, that's what it was, but who spoke it so softly, so tiredly? Then like a bolt spell it hit me, Ramza. My eyes would've snapped open had they not been caked in dirt and mud, I haphazardly shook my head, trying to clear my vision, sheer desperation lending me feeble strength to shrug out of a gauntlet and wipe vainly at my eyes. Finally they blinked open, ripping skin and opening more wounds on my face, I found it had not been mud, but my own blood which was still dripping onto the ground from my armor.
My eyes blinked, Ramza! He was right in front of me; I must be lying on him. My mind snapped perfectly awake now, as though I had been hit with ice. What was I doing here? Where were we? Of course, at Murond still, it was hard to see in the half light from the overcast skies, and in the distance the lazy rumble of thunder echoed through my brain, but my thoughts began to pick up.
A storm possibly, we had to find shelter, I had to bandage my wounds and see to Ramza, and then once the storm passed, we could look for other survivors. No one would be checking out this area in that kind of weather for at least a few days, we had some time. I tried to roll off of Ramza carefully, but his left hand was wrapped about my waist.
Agonizingly I lifted myself up, the weight of the Genji shield on my back pushing against my tired body, as I rolled over his hand and onto my back next to him, gasping for breath and cursing my own weakness and shortcomings. An uncomfortable lump was under my shoulder blades, and I lifted myself up again to find Ramza's Genji shield there, at least we wouldn't lose prize equipment to scavengers. On the other hand, if we didn't live through the next day it wouldn't make much difference either way.
On that dreadfully cheery thought, I lifted Ramza, Genji armor and all off the ground, grunting with exertion, and practically swaying on my own feet I made a quick line over the rubble towards what few standing walls there were left, as I approached it became apparent that a part of an entranceway was still intact, making for a half decent crumbled cave shelter we could maybe utilize.
The adrenaline began to take leave of me, now that we were out of immediate danger, and I let Ramza down gently, propping him up against the ruin of the building. Just after we got in the rain started to come, first just a few drops, then a rushing torrent racing down from the heavens. It was so peaceful, the first quiet I'd had in years that I could really remember. No screaming of markets, shouting and yelling of battle, no death, just the rain to wash away the scars.
Stripping off the Maxmillion from my weary body, I began to dress my wounds...nothing overtly dangerous, a few jagged openings and a loss of blood that made my head spin and the vertigo doubly cruel, but nothing that my sheer determination couldn't overcome. I turned to Ramza and began working on him, the Genji armor was hard to remove, and blood clots had fused the soft leather interior to his wounds, reopening them as I pulled off the plates. He was in worse shape, a deep wound that had gone across his chest from Altima's fearsome blasts, his left leg might have been broken, I couldn't quite tell, hopefully just a fracture but without causing him a huge amount of pain, there was nothing I could do.
I set about rubbing a potion slave on the wound on his chest, forcing his lips open and spilling some of a precious elixir down his throat to hopefully do some good. It felt weird to be taking care of Ramza this way; usually he saw to it that everyone else on the team was tended to first before anyone could get a close look at his own injuries. Once he had hidden a punctured lung for at least an hour before finally succumbing to letting me use a potion on him. Now that we were alone, I could look all I wanted at Ramza and not be questioned. I never had much a chance to study him from this close, he was always overseeing the team, managing everything, training each other, and often just being there to help. I'd had my share of conversations of course, but it was a rare opportunity at that it was just me and him.
I couldn't hazard a guess at his age. Probably no older than 24, even I myself am barely 26, but the battles and the death had taken a toll on both of us. He could've been mistaken from anywhere between eighteen and forty. But at the moment, the sandy blond hair, and the youthful features shone through. Here was the son of legendary Balbanes. Here was the usurper of Lucavi, the preventer of an apocalypse, branded as a heretic and pretty much a terrorist; he never lost sight of those goals, of just helping people and wanting to save his sister. Ramza, a true Beoulve. But right now, he looks like any other man, battle weary, bandaged and sore, what a great toll these battles have taken on him. The loss of Nede and Ryudo in one ill-planned order, the constant heartache, the decisions and having to watch the world he knew crumble apart. What must life be like, I'm sure I don't know it all, I'm sure even if he let his heart out, and he never would, I'm sure I would never understand it all.
But now, so young, so vulnerable. Forced to grow up without his mother or his father to give him guidance, to throw off the yoke of his name and try to forge a world without the maddening corruption that killed his best friend's sister. I'm sure if I was a writer, it would be a wonderful play in Dorter.
Wrapped up in my own thoughts I almost didn't notice him start to shiver. Almost. There was no way for me to make a fire, nothing to make it with even, and no blankets or rags to cover him up. Admittedly I am getting cold too now, the water is making its way through the rubble, a trickle here, a trickle there. I don't know what else to do, so I lie down next to him, both arms awkwardly drifting around his chest and my head on his shoulder. The rainfall is so peaceful, so quiet and so rhythmic I can't help but let my eyelids fall slowly. His breathing against my arms, the slow quiet heartbeat and above all else, the feeling of being alive.
A few words, escape my parched lips before the softness of sleep fully embraces me. "I love you, Ramza."
This story is property of FenrisKnight
I'm tired. My brain is still fuzzy, as though there is a permanent layer of haze just barely covering me over. Gradually I can slowly feel that misty drifting feeling give way to searing pain. Slowly I managed to creak my eyes open, though I can't say it did any good. Though it didn't do much good at first, blood trickled into them from somewhere and a multitude of wood splinters and debris surrounded me on all sides. I found I couldn't lift my left arm, the Genji shield missing. My body was pinned by some heavy weight, and my left leg I couldn't feel really at all. But my back, against the piles of what used to be Murond was a rife with a burning pain. I raised a heavy gauntleted fist into the air, trying to focus, to pull out hidden reserves, 'Chakra' my mind exploded with a sharp intensity, dispelling the haze and alleviating the pain for a precious few minutes.
I barely managed to raise my head, draped over me was the protective form of Agrias Oaks, the shield on her back and her prone position across my chest covering me, her armor was covered in matchwood and layers of dust. Her bodyguard instincts must have kicked in, when Ajora obliterated the airship graveyard. Her face was crumpled on my left shoulder, a mess of cuts and scratches and a dozen bleeding wounds that were dripping slowly onto my own armor. I couldn't move my left arm still, pinned down by her heavy armor clad form, so instead I focused will again, this time for her trying to come up with enough power for another Chakra.
It felt like hours. A dark overcast sky bristling with thunder and lightning, a stiff wind blowing the dust in my eyes, but hardest to take of all was the barely breathing form of my friend draped over my chest. Emotion welled up in my chest, but I didn't even have the strength to cry, I couldn't do anything. Some great hero I was, son of legendary Balbanes, slayer of Lucavi demons, preventer of the apocalypse, lying here in the refuse of a city unable to get up.
The sheer panic began to slowly pull me into it's grip, who else survived? What if I was the only one? And did it really matter? I was probably going to be found lying here dead in the ruins of Death City Murond amid the corpses of my friends. Do I deserve to live? Time stopped as a thousand thoughts whirled through my head, like being in the middle of a hurricane able to see every single raindrop. It was as though every life was placed before me, spinning around too fast to see, on their own predetermined courses, broken apart from each other, ripped from their groups to find their own places to land.
My eyes turned to Agrias, her face on my shoulder. It was funny, in a stupid observant sense; I don't think I'd ever seen her look peaceful in all our adventures, until now. She never looked more beautiful than that. Even covered in dust and blood, spit and grime, I wouldn't have had a better companion at my side, a truer friend. Aside from my own sister, there was no one else I would place my life in so easily.
Black edges crept into my vision, and the world began to lilt crazily, I wanted to move, wanted to scream, to leap, to even cry. But nothing escaped my lips beyond a paltry few words. "I love you, Agrias." And then?it all fell into oblivion.
----- ----- -----
Words hummed at the edge of my consciousness. Something, infinitesimal, beyond, just beyond my grasp, like reaching from beneath a heavy blanket for that first cold pitcher of water in the morning. It called to me, my name, I think? My eyes had a hard time obeying; exhaustion had smothered me like quicksand, invading my senses, dragging me down into a numbness that I had never felt before. What was it, who was calling to me? What was so important that it had to disturb me from my rest?
"...Agrias." My name, that's what it was, but who spoke it so softly, so tiredly? Then like a bolt spell it hit me, Ramza. My eyes would've snapped open had they not been caked in dirt and mud, I haphazardly shook my head, trying to clear my vision, sheer desperation lending me feeble strength to shrug out of a gauntlet and wipe vainly at my eyes. Finally they blinked open, ripping skin and opening more wounds on my face, I found it had not been mud, but my own blood which was still dripping onto the ground from my armor.
My eyes blinked, Ramza! He was right in front of me; I must be lying on him. My mind snapped perfectly awake now, as though I had been hit with ice. What was I doing here? Where were we? Of course, at Murond still, it was hard to see in the half light from the overcast skies, and in the distance the lazy rumble of thunder echoed through my brain, but my thoughts began to pick up.
A storm possibly, we had to find shelter, I had to bandage my wounds and see to Ramza, and then once the storm passed, we could look for other survivors. No one would be checking out this area in that kind of weather for at least a few days, we had some time. I tried to roll off of Ramza carefully, but his left hand was wrapped about my waist.
Agonizingly I lifted myself up, the weight of the Genji shield on my back pushing against my tired body, as I rolled over his hand and onto my back next to him, gasping for breath and cursing my own weakness and shortcomings. An uncomfortable lump was under my shoulder blades, and I lifted myself up again to find Ramza's Genji shield there, at least we wouldn't lose prize equipment to scavengers. On the other hand, if we didn't live through the next day it wouldn't make much difference either way.
On that dreadfully cheery thought, I lifted Ramza, Genji armor and all off the ground, grunting with exertion, and practically swaying on my own feet I made a quick line over the rubble towards what few standing walls there were left, as I approached it became apparent that a part of an entranceway was still intact, making for a half decent crumbled cave shelter we could maybe utilize.
The adrenaline began to take leave of me, now that we were out of immediate danger, and I let Ramza down gently, propping him up against the ruin of the building. Just after we got in the rain started to come, first just a few drops, then a rushing torrent racing down from the heavens. It was so peaceful, the first quiet I'd had in years that I could really remember. No screaming of markets, shouting and yelling of battle, no death, just the rain to wash away the scars.
Stripping off the Maxmillion from my weary body, I began to dress my wounds...nothing overtly dangerous, a few jagged openings and a loss of blood that made my head spin and the vertigo doubly cruel, but nothing that my sheer determination couldn't overcome. I turned to Ramza and began working on him, the Genji armor was hard to remove, and blood clots had fused the soft leather interior to his wounds, reopening them as I pulled off the plates. He was in worse shape, a deep wound that had gone across his chest from Altima's fearsome blasts, his left leg might have been broken, I couldn't quite tell, hopefully just a fracture but without causing him a huge amount of pain, there was nothing I could do.
I set about rubbing a potion slave on the wound on his chest, forcing his lips open and spilling some of a precious elixir down his throat to hopefully do some good. It felt weird to be taking care of Ramza this way; usually he saw to it that everyone else on the team was tended to first before anyone could get a close look at his own injuries. Once he had hidden a punctured lung for at least an hour before finally succumbing to letting me use a potion on him. Now that we were alone, I could look all I wanted at Ramza and not be questioned. I never had much a chance to study him from this close, he was always overseeing the team, managing everything, training each other, and often just being there to help. I'd had my share of conversations of course, but it was a rare opportunity at that it was just me and him.
I couldn't hazard a guess at his age. Probably no older than 24, even I myself am barely 26, but the battles and the death had taken a toll on both of us. He could've been mistaken from anywhere between eighteen and forty. But at the moment, the sandy blond hair, and the youthful features shone through. Here was the son of legendary Balbanes. Here was the usurper of Lucavi, the preventer of an apocalypse, branded as a heretic and pretty much a terrorist; he never lost sight of those goals, of just helping people and wanting to save his sister. Ramza, a true Beoulve. But right now, he looks like any other man, battle weary, bandaged and sore, what a great toll these battles have taken on him. The loss of Nede and Ryudo in one ill-planned order, the constant heartache, the decisions and having to watch the world he knew crumble apart. What must life be like, I'm sure I don't know it all, I'm sure even if he let his heart out, and he never would, I'm sure I would never understand it all.
But now, so young, so vulnerable. Forced to grow up without his mother or his father to give him guidance, to throw off the yoke of his name and try to forge a world without the maddening corruption that killed his best friend's sister. I'm sure if I was a writer, it would be a wonderful play in Dorter.
Wrapped up in my own thoughts I almost didn't notice him start to shiver. Almost. There was no way for me to make a fire, nothing to make it with even, and no blankets or rags to cover him up. Admittedly I am getting cold too now, the water is making its way through the rubble, a trickle here, a trickle there. I don't know what else to do, so I lie down next to him, both arms awkwardly drifting around his chest and my head on his shoulder. The rainfall is so peaceful, so quiet and so rhythmic I can't help but let my eyelids fall slowly. His breathing against my arms, the slow quiet heartbeat and above all else, the feeling of being alive.
A few words, escape my parched lips before the softness of sleep fully embraces me. "I love you, Ramza."
This story is property of FenrisKnight