The overall nature of Cancerians is deeply emotional. Although private and reserved, they possess sensitivity and sympathy. What appears to be a front is nothing more than a protective shell.'
Zodiac Signal
A Final Fantasy Tactics fanfic
By Tenshi no Ai
I don't own the characters and locations in the game that are presented in this work, Square-Enix does.
The rains fell in large splattering droplets; they'd been coming down in heaving gasps throughout the day, and now that it was night they were free to fall without the embarrassment from being watched while engaging in such a private act. A delicate shudder, in the form of muted bursts of thunder, would occur every so often without the usual dazzling streaks of lightning following soon afterward. The heavens were respectful in that regard, mourning without melodrama. So too were the people, for they had lost a hero.
So too was Zalbag Beoulve, for he had lost his father.
He sat in the late Balbanes Beoulve's study, blankly staring out of the grand floor-to-ceiling window behind the desk, the flame of the solitary candle on the desk reflected in his hazel eyes. It was completely dark within the room save for that one candle, which was what he preferred--needed--right now. Somewhere in the depths of the darkness he could hear his only sister crying, her sobbing muffled behind her small hands as his younger brother tried to comfort her.
In the cool darkness of his mind, he could see this scene, the memory of his father's last moments.
Beyond the pattering of the rain, he could hear his brother Dycedarg's footsteps above his head. No doubt his elder brother was preparing any final adjustments needed for the interment of their father's body tomorrow. Dycedarg had always been that way, methodical and stone-faced, but Zalbag was sure that his elder brother felt the same way he did. Even though one of their father's wishes during the length of his sickness had been for Dycedarg to hand over the title of command of the Hokuten to Zalbag, this was a time that went beyond such trivialities.
With a nearly inaudible sigh, Zalbag ran his gloved fingers through his short hair, his eyes unfocused as he continued to stare out of the window. Insistently, the rain continued to fall until he could no longer distinguish the endless pattering with the sound of his brother's footsteps above or the soft sobbing from his sister in his memory. They were all within a void as dark as the bags underneath his eyes, somewhere far off into the distance where they no longer mattered while meaning the world to him.
The candlelight flickered as the soft wax of the stick began to collapse within itself.
Somewhere behind the body of Zalbag Beoulve, footsteps sounded, hollow and dull until they softly landed upon the large ryozan silk rug in the room. the owner of these footfalls called, startling the young commander.
Who is-- Zalbag turned around, disoriented and reaching for a nonexistent sword at his side, but he ceased this action once his eyes fell upon the intruder. It took a moment for him to bring up the name of this person, but in his jumbled mind he could only grasp at a partial description. You're Sir Orlandu's son, aren't you?
Yes, I'm Olan, the visitor answered politely. I'm sorry to bother you. Your brother Dycedarg answered the door for us, and my father indicated that he wanted to talk to your brother alone. There doesn't appear to be any maids around, so I was unsure of where to leave our valises.
Zalbag closed his eyes after the explanation was over. No, with everything that's happened, it really doesn't matter if the rooms are dusty for a few days, does it? This line ended on a defensive note, and after the creeping silence that followed he seemed to realize his rudeness and turned his head away. I'll show you to your room in a moment, just...
Leave me alone.
Olan seemed to have other things in mind. I'm sorry for your loss, he said respectfully, I met Sir Beoulve once before, when he was still free of the sickness. He was a very kind man, and my father always spoke of him with fondness.
Something within the older man grew irritable at the condolences. Knowing that he would have to face this sort of pity over and over again over the next few days, weeks or even months ground at his already splintered nerves. Thank you for your generous words, he nearly spat out before he could completely recover his composure. There was the barest feeling of shame, but it was as pitifully small as the candlelight that was determinedly melting a way to its demise.
After a moment, Olan seemed to have found the proper words to say to someone as entrenched in their anguish as the Hokuten commander seemed to be, calmly saying, I didn't mean any disrespect, only the truth.
Within his compact shell of pain, Zalbag merely nodded in response. If he tried to say anything substantial, he knew he would probably be snappishly insulting again. His father didn't raise him to act in such a manner to guests. If Balbanes was here, if he had seen the way his son was acting now...
That was the problem, wasn't it?
He wasn't here.
I felt the same way.
The black-clad knight looked over at Olan again, his face blank save for a small measure of confusion in his eyes. Excuse me?
When my father died, I couldn't listen to reason at all. I was like a crab, snapping my pincers out at anyone who even dared approach me, finding some secret humor in his statement, there was a small smile on the younger man's face that was almost unseen in the darkness. The grief I caused my mother and Sir Orlandu was immeasurable.
Zalbag's mind, immersed as it was in a potent solution of fatigue and despair, wasn't understanding part of the conversation. Excuse me, but didn't you say that your father was Sir Orlandu?
He's my adopted father, yes. My last name is Durai.
Why didn't you take up the Orlandu name?
Olan sighed, and it was louder than the rain outside, my father was a great man. He wasn't as well known as Sir Orlandu, no, but he fought for what he believed in and died for it. I won't disrespect him by turning away from his legacy, and here the darker skinned man shook his head and smiled, though it couldn't be seen by the other man in the room. I am proud to be considered the son of two great heroes of this war. Sir Orlandu accepts this, and is more than happy to let me keep my father's name.
These words burrowed through Zalbag's shell, a sudden feeling of shame piercing through him as he considered them. While he acted in a manner unsuitable for a Beoulve, selfishly focusing on his own pain while ignoring others, his siblings, all of whom shared the very same father he was grieving for, were experiencing the same loss. He knew it would be a long time before he could begin to have the same amount of wisdom Olan had just displayed, but that didn't mean that he couldn't uphold the same pride of the legacy he carried. It wasn't the Beoulve way to shirk away from those in need, and his siblings needed him as much as he needed them.
Something cleansing and comforting descended upon Balbanes's second son as he continued upon this line of thought. He didn't need to stop mourning. He didn't need to stop up the cascade of emotions he felt at losing the one person who had taught him what honor, dignity, and the Beoulve way truly was. He just needed to remember how great of a man Balbanes Beoulve was when he was alive.
He was never going to forget what his father meant to him.
Zalbag thoughtfully looked out of the window and into the light rain, lightly touching his goatee as he did so. I'll show you to your room in a moment, he said, and this time Olan got the hint and left, a peaceful expression on the younger man's face that not even the darkness could hide. The knight stood and walked to the window, his hand drifting from his face to the pristine glass almost unconsciously. He looked out into the night, into the boundless weeping clouds. he whispered, his teeth clenched as he tried desperately not to give into his lingering sorrow,
As he turned and walked out of the room, the neglected candle on the desk fully melted into the confines of its hold, the flame instantly extinguished as it fell into the puddle. That was okay, though.
The sun would rise again tomorrow.
-Cancer fades into Leo...-
First, I'm sorry for the brevity; I've got papers due. Plus, there really is so much one can say on this topic before it becomes redundant and, dare I say, insulting.
I really wanted to highlight the Cancerian connection to the family in this story. Both Zalbag and Olan have their ties with their families, and are motivated in the plot to do things because of that connection. Of course, a point of odd irony would be the fact that Zalbag may or may not have ordered the destruction of Delita's only family; whether that is because of friendly fire' or Algus having an itchy trigger finger isn't really something I want to get into here. Cancerians also tend to be kind, and we can easily see this in Zalbag's usual treatment of Ramza (disregarding where he says Ramza has bad blood', since Ramza was saying that Dycedarg was orchestrating the war, bringing up Zalbag's natural defensiveness over his family. See how these things work?), Olan's instant decision to declare himself one of Ramza's allies, and Agrias' attitude towards Ovelia. It seems that Olan's the kindest of the three, hence his role here.
Cancer is the cardinal water sign of the zodiac. While water tends bring deep emotions, the cardinal quality usually highlights more leadership tendencies in a sign. This is fairly obvious in the game.
Other Cancerians: Agrias. With all the fics that focus on her, I'm sure there are some that accurately have her personality down (she certainly seems to fit the blurb I have at the beginning).
-Olan can find all the humor he wants because his job class is Astrologer.
Reviewers!
Jaide DM, you certainly were fast about reading the Gemini part, since you were the first reviewer...and the first reader. Well, y'know, Taureans are said to be dependable.
Thank you very much for your comments about my writing, I find third-person to be fairly hard to write.
I remember that you said you were a Cancerian; hopefully this part meets your standards!
Hey, TobyKikami, it's nice to know that I was even on a roll to begin with! Teta and Cloud...we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.
You're right about Wiegraf having Arian traits, but he really fits the standard Virgo I've read in my books. Oddly enough, Velius changes into a Virgo.
The best/worst compatibility for a unisex Lucavi (Velius, Adramelk, and Altima) turns into simply bad compatibility. I realized this when my Reis was doing a fairly paltry amount of damage to Altima. However, best/worst compatibility comes into effect on Queklain, Zalera, and Hasmalum, mainly because their hosts fit with their zodiac sign. ...I spend way too much time at GameFAQs.
Hello, Hawk of Death! Wow, that's a lot of text. Sorry, but I won't respond to all of it. I think that Elmdor looks cooler than Sephiroth.
Tricked you with the Cancer story, didn't I? :)
Leo...that's going to be an interesting story. I still don't have an idea of what to write for it. Most of these stories are written just whenever I think of an idea.
Um...Wiegraf isn't an Arian, he's a Virgo. Sorry.
Ah, The Burning Misery, is it just me, or do you have really bad luck when it comes to posting a review? And I don't have a photographic memory either, so it's all good.
Actually, Elmdor wasn't my first choice. The story was originally going to be a Malak and Worker 8 conversation piece. The idea was scrapped when I realized that I really disliked Malak.
I did mention the Silver Noble' for dialogue. Good afternoon, Sir Knight, the Silver Noble responded in kind before sitting down at another table.' At this point (if you wanted to put in within WHW canon, it would be a couple months before Izlude's side story), I'd like to think that the Marquis was still pretty good. That's the thing about writing the Lucavi hosts; we don't know of their personalities before they got ahold of the stones.
I'm glad you liked the Gemini story, though I'm not sure how you'll take this story's relative shortness.
Luna...how do I say this without sounding weird...for almost three years, you've been reviewing my stories with an astounding persistence. Of course everyone's reviews matter to me, but I'm especially used to seeing you around. Constructive is relative.
Exactly the reason why I feel sorry for Elmdor. What, does Sephiroth have something to do with underground libraries or something? I've never played FFVII.
The Zodiac Brave Story intro is awesome, but I like the music for the explanation of the Lion War (after the title screen) a bit more.
Izlude's awesome. I shouldn't write him because I'm such an obvious fangirl and I'm biased, but...
Virgo...hm. That's one of the few parts I actually have relatively planned.
Hey, Killiko Jun, glad you liked the Elmdor/Izlude conversation piece.
Teta and Cloud are unfortunately the only Aquarians in FFT. Let's hope I can think of a good story for Aquarius by then.
By the way, thanks for your help. When I use that quote, I'll credit you in that chapter.