A/N: I continually forget to put the disclaimer here. Let it be know that I own none of these characters. They are all the involuntary servants of Square/Enix who exploits them mercilessly. I just let them out for a romp now and then.
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Darkness Rising
The large dim tent was stifling hot. It seemed as though the sun had penetrated directly into the space undeterred by the thick canvas stretched high overhead. In an effort to mitigate the heat, the lamps had been extinguished for the most part and the darkness added to the discomfort of the man trying to work with the stacks of papers on the desk in front of him.
"Damn it! I can't read these things! It's so dark in here, I couldn't read them even if my eyes were still good." He slammed a palm down on the manuscript he was squinting at and, taking off his spectacles, pinched the bridge of his nose between the forefinger and thumb of his right hand. "Can't we have some more light?"
"Meyvn, the heat ... " stammered the sole guard in attendance.
"Never mind. I'll attend to this later when it's cooler." The tall man with the elaborately dressed hair pushed back his chair and struggled to his feet, grasping the cane which assisted him to walk on the clumsy prosthesis which had replaced his missing left leg.
He went out into the fenced compound surrounding the command tent, observing with a mixture of pride and aggravation the motley crowd of disorganized volunteers gathered there. They were his; he had collected them from all over Spira after the destruction of Sin and the dissolution of the Crusaders. With the ending of the epic struggle against the great unifying evil had come a series of picayune civil wars which had ended with only two major forces remaining. Now, these two, the Youth League and New Yevon were engaged in apparently endless bickering with neither gaining the upper hand. He was bored with the details of the tedious conflict and would have preferred to turn his entire attention to the compiling of his grand history of the world. Essentially a loner, being the semi-deified leader of a crew of misfits was not his perfect career. But the misfits were his and he had an obligation to take care of them.
"Meyvn, sir, there's someone coming up on the lift." A breathless woman ran up with the message, sketching a gawky bow in his general direction.
"Thank you, er ..." He could not remember her name. He never remembered names. Most of his captains seemed to be women; he wondered indifferently why that should be. "Who is it?"
Before she could answer, he recognized the man coming through the gate. The yellow hair, the swagger, the black eye-patch were unmistakable. What was Gippal doing here of all the places on Spira?
"Hey, Nooj. How ya doing? Nice place you got here." The Al Bhed had never been formal on any occasion.
"Gippal. It has been a long time. How can I help you?" Nooj vaguely remembered doing something unpleasant to the other man the last time they had met. But then, he was often forced to do unpleasant things to people. It was part of being a leader.
Gippal came nearer, "Can we talk someplace private. I've got some business to propose to you."
"Of course." The Meyvn led the way into the sweltering tent, up the spiral flooring and out onto the highest balcony where an awning offered shade and there was at least the hope of an errant breeze. "What's on your mind?"
Gippal scratched the back of his head, a gesture reminding Nooj of the old days when they had first met. "I've been hearing about this little war you and Baralai are fighting and it occurred to me you might need some armor or weapons. I mean, 'Lai's all set up in Bevelle with the solid buildings and, you know. And here you and your people are in tents, exposed on this plateau. Eh?"
"What are you now - a traveling salesman? Who are you working for? Rin?"
"Nah, I'm set up with some more Al Bhed over at what used to be Djose Temple and we're salvaging some of the old machina that got trashed during the big war. I'm kinda the leader, as much as we have. So, what about it?" Gippal looked as innocently as he could at his old friend's face. "And while we're at it, I could have a look at that leg of yours. Looks like it's still giving you trouble."
"Thank you, but I'll pass on that for the moment. What sort of arms and weapons are you hawking?" It occurred to Nooj that a better defended headquarters would demand less of his time and attention.
"Oh, whatever you want. I can send a team here to take a look and draw up a plan for whatever you need."
"And the price?" Nooj had always been both practical and cautious.
Gippal waved a dismissing hand. "We can deal."
Nooj thought for a while, "Do you have a place I could look at the merchandise before I buy it? I don't like to take something sight unseen."
"Always suspicious. That's the Nooj I remember. Yeah, I've got some refurbished stuff over at Djose if you want to go there."
"Stay the night and we'll leave first thing in the morning. I need to get away from here for a day or two. Captain – er – that woman over there will show you where you can sleep. Come to the marquee over here," he pointed, "in about two hours and we'll have supper." Without another word, Nooj limped into the hot, dark tent, leaving Gippal to stare at his retreating back in amusement. Same old Nooj. Never wasted time in small talk.
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The morning dawned blessedly cool and fresh and the two men found the going comfortable as they set out down the road toward Djose. Nooj had rejected the idea of using a hover, claiming he needed the exercise and Gippal was not in the habit of disputing the older, taller man's decisions. He had always felt inferior to his erstwhile captain because of the implicit maturity of the other and because of a certain air of menace which ever seemed to envelope the Taydrcaagan. Gippal wondered if Nooj still pursued his own death but did not think it was quite the proper time to ask him. Besides another question was percolating in his mind.
"Hey, Noojster, I been wondering about something," he smiled to himself as he saw the other man's lips tighten at the despised nick-name. "Why did you shoot 'Lai and me at the travel agency? I mean, what had we done?"
"I shot you?" The Meyvn raised one brow as he turned his head to look at his companion full face. So that was the unpleasant thing he had done the last time they had been together. "Oh, I'm not completely sure what I was thinking at the time. I think it had something to do with keeping you safe from the Maester's hunting dogs." He could not remember the details but experience had taught him one rarely goes wrong claiming to have done something for another's own good.
"So you shot us in the back to keep the Maesters from shooting us in the front? That's pretty complicated even for you, Noojster."
"Don't call me that." The response was calm but there was an undertone which set off alarm bells in Gippal's mind. Nevertheless, he continued to probe.
"OK. How did shooting us keep us safe? And what happened to Paine? Have you seen her since we got separated – when you shot me and 'Lai?" Gippal could be stubborn and he felt safe in public on the highroad. The thought floated just under his active mind – why was he nervous being alone with Nooj? Why was he glad of the other people using the roadway? True, the man beside him had shot him in the back a couple of years ago, but ...
"It kept you from traveling around and drawing attention to yourselves. The last place the enemy would have looked for you was in a hospital. And Paine - no, I haven't seen her since that time. I only know where Baralai is because he's trying to kill me; I don't make any effort to keep the past alive. There's too much to do in the present – and the future." Nooj didn't mind chatting idly on subjects unrelated to his sometimes spotty memory or other topics of potential danger. Besides, he was enjoying the journey; he had stayed too long cooped up at headquarters under the worshipful eyes of his followers.
"Did Paine see you shoot 'Lai and me? She must have; she was standing right there when you did it. I bet she has a sphere of it. Do you ever worry about that?" There were still people around them, so the younger man babbled on.
Nooj did not answer for so long Gippal thought he was going to refuse. "There are no spheres from that day except the one she did of the three of us saying goodbye. I do not know what she saw, if anything." He was lying with the overly casual clumsiness of a man who does not lie often or well. "On another subject, I meant to mention I have a small task to do on the way to Djose. The road to the Moonflow is under my protection and I haven't done a pass down it lately. It attracts bandits like rotting meat draws flies and I like to clear out a few now and then when I'm in the neighborhood."
Gippal was taken aback. He had not planned on doing any fighting during the trek to his base, in fact he had planned on a leisurely ride on a hover. "Just the two of us?"
The Meyvn looked at him with a twisted smile. "How many do you think are needed to wipe up a few bandits? You do have a weapon, don't you? Most of you Al Bhed would rather be found without your pants than without your guns."
"Oh, I'm armed all right. I just thought..."
"You thought I had given up fighting on the personal level in favor of sending troops out to die for me." He stated it flatly with a hint of amusement. "No, Gippal, I'm not ready for the shelf yet. I still manage to prop myself up in the corner of a fight and collect my share of the bodies."
"I never meant to hint you didn't," Gippal stammered. He remembered how formidable Nooj had been in battle back during the big war, how even with only one arm and one leg, he had been able to lay waste to entire corps of enemy both human and fiend. And he remembered the fierce joy on the man's face when he was doing it. Was this the time to ask...? No, not yet. They still had not re-established the bonds of friendship they had then.
"Sure, have to protect the civilians. Right, captain?" He used the title they had given him back in the Crimson Squad. "How far down you want to go?"
"As far as it takes," was the laconic reply.
They had passed the area of Mushroom Rock Road where people congregated and had entered the section past the statue of Mi'hen, the less frequented part of the road. There would likely be fiends here. Anywhere there were shadows to hide in there were most often fiends. And they were passing through a section in which the overhanging rocky structure cast a harlequin pattern of light and dark across their way. From behind one of the pillars on their right, a cluster of leaping and flying creatures emerged out of the concealing shade and bore down upon them.
Gippal drew his pair of pistols and easily picked off the flying beasts while Nooj lazily slipped a dagger from his belt and disposed of the earthbound monsters. Gippal was careful not to show his surprise. The captain he had known preferred to shoot rather than soil his hands with close-in combat.
"Want to borrow one of my guns?" He asked lightly.
"No, thank you. I have one." The Meyvn turned so that the one-eyed man could see the pistol holstered just over his right hip. "I prefer not to waste ammunition on these petty nuisances."
And so it continued as they made their slow progress toward the branch in the road which led to the Moonflow. Scattered fiends appeared and were easily dispatched by the two - but Nooj never drew his gun, slaughtering the beasts with his dagger.
"This is like the training days for the Crimson Squad," Gippal mentioned at one point.
"Is it? Why do you say that?" It was hard to know if Nooj was interested or just being courteous. He had always had a somewhat formal air as well as the manners of a gentleman.
Gippal wasn't sure how to express himself, "Oh, you know, the two of us out together knocking off monsters and talking about nothing."
"Were you happy then?" It was such an unexpected question to come from that quarter that Gippal was caught off guard.
"Yeah. I enjoyed the whole lot of us; thought we fit well as a unit. Remember how 'Lai would keep disappearing when we got back to the mainland and we found him making those crazy little shrines? And Doctor P never would let us take the recorder and make a sphere showing her? And ... " His voice died off as he saw the other was not really listening.
"I remember trying to pound some martial discipline into the three of you and Paine being the only one who took it seriously. She wouldn't let you put your hands on her recorder because she had orders to protect it from brats like you and Baralai. She was the only one of you who understood orders are to be obeyed!"
"OK, OK, forget it mentioned it, Noojster." Gippal raised his hands in mock surrender.
"I asked you not to call me that. I dislike nick-names." His voice was soft and level, but it gave Gippal a chill down the center of his back.
Ever the risk-taker, the Al Bhed pressed on, "What about LeBlanc? I've heard her call you ..."
"Don't say it. She will not be calling me that any longer." Nooj was several paces ahead and did not look back.
Even the gregarious Gippal found himself discouraged from conversation by the last comment. He caught up with his friend easily and they made their way in silence to the juncture point, arriving there just as the sun was setting.
"It's not far on to Djose. Want to go there to sleep and come back here with a few of my men and really clean this place out in the morning?" The Al Bhed suggested hopefully.
The taller man shook his head, "No. I'm in the mood to lie under the sky tonight. Go ahead to Djose if you like; I'll finish my task and join you in a day or so."
"I just thought we might sleep better in a real bed."
"Afraid to sleep rough these days? Age has softened you, Engineer." Nooj did not bother to hide his scorn. He limped down the fork toward the Moonflow; his gait was more labored and he seemed tired.
At the first open space, the Meyvn turned toward the right. There was a small meadow surrounded by the stone heights of the last of the mountain chain which had produced the Mushroom Rock formations. "This will do." He proclaimed gathering up some grass and moss for a pillow. "It's warm enough so we won't need covers or shelter."
Gippal copied him and they made their beds side by side in the narrow space by the road. The sun was completely below the horizon now and the only light was the afterglow fleeing before the darkness. Gippal was not an imaginative man but the steady creep of shadow made him uneasy. It was like the rising of a sinister tide bringing dark dreams instead of renewal.
"You still awake, Nooj?" he whispered.
"Yes."
"What happened to you in the Den? You know, when all the pyreflies lighted on you?"
The face of the older man was invisible in the gathering dark. "Why ask that now?"
"I want to know. Something happened there and I've always wanted to know. Did they do something to you?" The Al Bhed couldn't stop sticking his paw into the fire ant nest.
"What can pyreflies do to a human? They're nothing but remnants. Go to sleep."
"They did something. You were different after. You're still different." Gippal kept prodding.
"You've forgotten how I was, how I always was. Go to sleep." Nooj turned painfully on his side, terminating the inquisition.
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The rising sun in their eyes woke them. Gippal sat up and stretched. "I'm hungry. You forgot about food, Noojs ... Nooj."
"I didn't forget. I don't eat much and even you can hold out until we get to the pier." Nooj stiffly levered himself up with the help of the cane. Mornings were difficult for him, bringing as they did the fresh reminder each day of what he had lost and what was never again to be. His anger was controlled but never absent.
They set out, Gippal irritatingly aware of the loud rumblings of his stomach. He was accustomed to rising early, getting himself around a working man's breakfast and only then tackling the jobs at hand. He recalled from the Crimson Squad days Nooj had never wanted to spare the time for a proper meal no matter the hour. He should not be surprised that they were doing without food. He clinched his belt tighter, sighed and, after brushing his teeth with a twig, pressed on.
They had not gone far when the first body of bandits hit. There were three, all strong and well-armed, and apparently thought two lone travelers would be easy prey. Gippal killed one with his first shot and downed another with his second. Hearing high-pitched screams behind him, he turned to see his comrade had disarmed the last man and was holding him against the rocky scarp. Nooj had dropped his cane in order to fasten his machina left hand on the bandit's throat and, with his knife, was ringing some extraordinarily cruel changes on an old theme. Watching the scene, Gippal was suddenly grateful he had not eaten that morning.
"Nooj! For god's sake, kill him! He can't fight anymore!"
The Meyvn looked at him with unseeing eyes - eyes which held the same flat feral glitter as the pyreflies in the Den of Woe. It was as though the creatures had filled the man's body and stared out through the lenses of his eyes. Then, silently he turned back to his grisly occupation.
Gippal could not bear it; he lifted his pistol and shot the screaming man in the temple, seeing gratitude momentarily flood the bandit's face as he slumped dead against the stone. Nooj rounded on Gippal like a tiger deprived of his prey, his own face a mask of fury. The two men stood frozen for a what seemed forever before the anger faded from Nooj and the fear from Gippal. The former casually wiped his hand and knife on the bandit's tunic before letting him slide to the ground.
"Will you be so kind as to hand me my cane? I find bending difficult of late." He asked in a level voice, sheathing the dagger.
Gippal picked up the stick and put it in his friend's grasp. "Why, Nooj? Why did you do that?"
"Why did I kill a bandit? I told you that was my purpose coming this way."
"But like that? Why did you do it like that? Why not kill him cleanly?" Gippal didn't know why he couldn't stop asking, why he couldn't let it go. Nooj was clearly annoyed and disinclined to answer.
"He's dead. No matter how. Come on, we need to reach the Moonflow by dusk."
They continued on past the stony cliffs to the blasted tree which marked the bend in the road. Gippal had recovered his appetite and was glad they had met no more bandits when a small squadron of Yevonite soldiers, at least six, appeared in the dusty path before them.
"Shoot them, Nooj. They're too many to play with." The Al Bhed shouted as he drew both his pistols and took aim.
Battles, no matter how small, create their own detachment from reality. In the noise and confusion that prevails, warriors do not always observe what they should so it was no surprise Gippal did not notice Nooj take the same pains with one of the soldiers as he had done with the bandit. When they had seen what he was doing to their comrade, the other soldiers near him had taken to their heels in sheer terror. Nooj ignored them; none of these trivial foes was his destiny. Sin had been that and had been defeated. Now he must wait for another greater than himself to appear. In the meantime, these small victims would suffice for his other needs. Once again, he cleaned his hand and blade on the clothing of the fallen and awkwardly regained his feet.
Gippal was reloading his pistols; his eyepatch had become displaced and the empty socket where his right eye had been was revealed in the searing light of the noon sun. He holstered the weapons and reached to reposition the covering.
"Why do you bother with that?" Nooj asked as he brushed himself off fastidiously.
"To spare the stomachs of those who look at me. And speaking of stomachs ..."
"Yes, I know. You're hungry. You have no discipline. But why do you care about what other people think?"
"Look, Nooj. I know you've changed over the past couple of years but you must have noticed people don't like to look at things like my eye socket." Gippal spoke with embarrassed impatience, shifting his feet as was his nervous habit.
"Or my body?" the half-man wondered.
Gippal thrust his fingers through the hair at the back of his head, uncertain how to answer, "No, not that. Your body ... well it's not unsightly. It's just ... there. My eye socket is pretty disgusting to look at, you know."
"I don't understand the difference, but let it pass. Come on, we're nearing the Moonflow." Nooj limped ahead toward the inlet.
Just then Gippal caught sight of the dead soldier at his feet and his gorge rose again. The man had no face! On closer observation, the illusion was seen to be caused by the veil of blood covering what was left of the features. The eyelids had been removed as had the ear lobes and the cheeks and forehead were incised with a sort of delicate design of fine lines, carved with the tip of a sharp blade. He had no lips. The Al Bhed looked up at the broad back of the Meyvn and swallowed the words which were pressing against his teeth. For the first time in years, he was dizzy with fear. He did not know this stranger who was traveling with him.
Gippal hurried to catch up and walked alongside, eyeing his old friend out of the corner of his remaining eye. Even in the golden light of the late afternoon, Nooj seemed to carry his own cool darkness wrapped around him. The Al Bhed felt if he tried to touch his companion, his hand would pass through a zone of difference, through an icy aura of separation as though the other man inhabited another world, one in which the accepted norms did not pertain.
Just before they reached the waters, as the sun was setting, they began passing individuals and groups of people either talking together, looking at the lights in the gloaming or just sitting quietly resting on benches. Gippal remembered he had not eaten for more than a day and began scouting for a restaurant. He was fairly sure there had been one here on his last visit. As they neared the station where the shoopufs were waiting, Nooj stepped aside to speak to a girl standing alone at the edge of the clearing. After a few words had been exchanged, the Meyvn turned to Gippal.
"Can you manage to entertain yourself for a while?"
Gippal raised an eyebrow and nodded, "Sure, I'll go find some food. You may be able to fast forever but I'm starving." He looked at the female waiting just behind his friend. She was attractive although not a beauty as Gippal judged beauty. He had no doubt at all what she was doing on the side of the road at the Moonflow even though she seemed very young even for a profession which was notoriously ravenous for youth. But Nooj? The austere, ascetic Nooj? Things had certainly changed in the past two years. The younger man felt uncomfortable as he watched his senior move into the shadow of the trees, the scarlet of his clothing losing its color as the light faded. The Al Bhed had used the women of the roadside himself at times, but never one so small or so young, who seemed so vulnerable, so inexperienced. And he had never chosen one so blatantly, so shamelessly.
The lame man moved jerkily away in the dusk, the young woman following at his gesture. Two silhouettes against the faint illumination of their destination, they headed toward a small cluster of 'pleasure houses' located a few hundred yards away, screened by the grove of trees on the side away from the open water. The Moonflow offered amenities of many kinds. At the moment the only one which interested Gippal was food and maybe later a comfortable bed – for his use alone.
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It was sometime in the middle of the night when Gippal became aware of movement in the room he had rented. He had been of two minds whether to take a single or a double, not knowing if Nooj intended to spend the night in the pleasure house or to come back to the water-front area. He turned on the light and saw his traveling companion stumbling around, apparently searching for the unused bed.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." Nooj was slightly unsteady on his feet, just a little more so than the balky leg could account for, and his clothing was more disarranged than his cat-like tidiness usually permitted.
"S'ok. You get anything to eat?" Gippal blinked his eye, trying to focus both his vision and his sleep-fogged mind.
"Yes. I took care of that. I assume you fed yourself as well?" The dark man turned back the coverlet of the second bed and sank down to tug off his boots.
"Yeah. I guess you satisfied some other appetites too." He had no idea why he said that. Usually he was more discreet.
Nooj looked up, surprised, the reflection of the light on the lenses of his spectacles turning his eyes into blank, unreadable ellipses, "And if I did? How does that concern you?"
Gippal felt the words forced out of his mouth almost against his will. "She was awfully young, wasn't she?"
"She knew what she was doing. It's her business – like hawking salvaged machina is yours. I can only hope you provide as excellent a service as she." He lay back and pulled the light cover over him. He had not undressed; no prudent lodger did in these public inns. "Good night."
"Damn it! You used that child! Is she still alive?"
"Gippal, she's not a child; she's a whore. You were hungry – you took care of it. So was I and I satisfied my hunger." He had always been infuriating in his ability to sound cooly rational no matter how indefensible the topic.
"It's not the same and you know it!" The Al Bhed was now wide awake.
"It's exactly the same. Just as your missing eye and my damaged body are the same. You try to make differences where they don't exist. Hunger is hunger; mutilation is mutilation. The only distinction is in the perception. Now, I'm tired, so shut up and go to sleep."
"Nooj. Explain to me, please. What happened to you to change you this much." He pleaded forlornly.
Across the room, Nooj gave a slight smile, one barely discernible in the faint light of the lamp, "I am as I always was. You just had a mistaken image of me and now you see more clearly."
"Are you still Taydrcaagan?" He used his native language's word for Deathseeker. "Are you still hunting a place to die?"
The other man did not even turn over, "Yes. Put out the light."
It took a long time for Gippal to fall asleep again. He kept seeing images of death and blood and could not compose his mind.
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They spoke little on their trip back down the road the following day. Nooj was comfortable with silence – he had always been so - and Gippal was trying to put together his recent observations in a way to form a picture which agreed with what he remembered of the days when they had both been members of the Crimson Squad. The few bandits they encountered were handled with efficiency and none of the dramatics of the previous day; Nooj used his side arm to the exclusion of his dagger. He was quieter, without the nervous jangling under the skin which had been so evident the day before. He seemed less alien, less shadowed even in the approaching twilight.
They arrived at Djose just as the setting sun was casting a fiery light as of a celestial foundry on the metal shapes of the massive machina filling the courtyard. The Al Bhed stood, arms akimbo, and admired his minute kingdom. He breathed in the rich fragrance of oil and metal – the smell of home – then with an expansive gesture turned to his companion. "There take your pick. D'you want to look around now or wait 'til morning?"
"I'll make my choices now if your men do not mind working late. I am overdue back at headquarters." The other leaned against the wall surrounding the space.
"OK. While you're washing up, I'll get the guys together and have them sketch out some plans for you to see." Gippal strode purposefully off to summon his associates, leaving Nooj to find his own way through the labyrinth of the former temple.
Later, a small clot of men assembled in the space formed by the opened doors of the main building and the stone-paved area just in front. Most of them had heard of the legendary Undying Deathseeker. However, a few were surprised when the Meyvn made his entrance. They had not expected the height, the hair and the cane. The man's attitude toward them was one of respect and curiosity, which was another surprise.
After an initial hesitation, the desert-bred engineers flocked around the leader of the Youth League, talking over one another in their eagerness to convince him of the superiority of each individual defense unit and the benefits of replacing fragile human bodies with the huge machina robots the Al Bhed were offering.
The Meyvn listened intently, asked intelligent questions and deferred to expert advice. He gathered information quickly, applying his formidable capacity for analysis to the task of choosing the best way to defend his people.
Watching him, Gippal was struck with wonder. It seemed to him Nooj had taken a strange sort of holiday during their walking journey, casting aside his public duties and demeanor and giving his private self free rein. Gippal caught his breath at the recollection of what those private proclivities included. He tried to reassure himself with the mantra that all great men had their foibles. And there was no doubt Nooj was a great man. Looking at him effortlessly seducing the skeptical Al Bhed, the one-eyed man could only marvel at the charisma of his erstwhile captain. Maybe it was that aura of always knowing what he was doing and where he was leading which was the key. Gippal could only scratch his head and admire.
Meanwhile in response to a fervent request from an expert in smaller machina devices, Nooj had stretched out his prosthetic leg to permit the man to see what adjustments might be possible. Gippal, who had been rebuffed so often in his offers to work on the leg, was astonished. Was Nooj deliberately setting out to bind the engineer to him or was it only the automatic behavior of a man whose entire career had been based on his ability to inspire men to die at his command?
Nooj looked up and saw Gippal watching him. As their eyes met, the younger man clearly saw the arrogant certainty in his friend's gaze. It said, "Look what I can do with your own men. Do you think you can ever best me? Walk carefully, little man."
When the desired items had been selected and a price agreed upon, dinner was announced. Nooj excused himself with great courtesy, saying he would not stay for the meal but would instead start back home, having been away too long. At the urgings of Gippal, he consented to take a hover in order to avoid the fiends and masterless men who preyed upon the lone traveler during the night.
To the accompaniment of many expressions of goodwill and promises to come visit the Youth League headquarters, the Meyvn set out, moving marginally more smoothly, escorted by a small group of Al Bhed who had been so taken by his magnetism they did not want to let him go.
Gippal watched the tall man, his height somewhat diminished by the bend of his crippled body as he leaned on his cane, move slowly off into the darkness past the bridge. The scarlet of his uniform was become black in the shadows and, for a moment, against the glow cast by the last set of lamps at the edge of Djose territory, he looked utterly alien, like a spider grown man-size and advancing on its paralyzed prey.
The smaller man ran both hands through his spiky hair, dispelling the illusion. It was only his old friend, comrade and captain. He shook his head. The things he had seen the day before were nothing more than the results of too much time spent mewed up with a crowd of amateurs and women. Any man would build up a head of steam under those circumstances and take things a little too far. Nooj was OK; he was not still Taydrcaagan. He couldn't be after all that had happened. He was not a monster, not a cold, indifferent killer, not a despoiler of innocence.
Gippal, by his nature, tended to look for the best in those he loved and he had learned to love Nooj. He had taught himself to look past the prickly exterior into the noble heart of the man. He had loved him as a soldier loves the commander who leads well and leads from the front, in the most dangerous position. Nothing which could happen was likely to change that love – not even the things his own eyes had witnessed, not even the event at the travel agency. Now he began to teach himself another lesson, one of forgetfulness. He set about deliberately to forget what had occurred on the trip to the Moonflow.
The yellow-haired man wished for one last blazing moment he had never decided to offer his faction's goods to his former captain, that he had never renewed the acquaintance. Then he put the thought aside, looked at the signed contract in his hand and smiled cynically to himself. Business is business and the devil's money is as good as any other's. Besides, Nooj was a great man and his friend.
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