Quietly reserved, Virgos are polite and soft-spoken people. Unassuming, outwardly cheerful and agreeable, they can be sensible, discreet, wise and witty, with an understanding of other people's problems which they tackle with deftness.'
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.
Brother, I won't be left behind anymore. I'm going to become a knight, just like you!
...If that's what you really want, then I'll teach you myself.
I did not want my sister to become a knight. I still don't, in some ways. She's my only family and has been ever since our parents died from the plague. I can still remember those days. She was eight. I was fourteen. I left her in the care of some friends of the family and set out to become a knight, so that I could use the pay to give her a comfortable life.
I could do it myself, I had thought, it's better this way.
Stop it! You'll just get yourself killed if you keep throwing yourself into battle. I said stop it!
That's what you expect from everyone else, Wiegraf! Don't tell me to do less! Don't -ever- tell me that!
When I returned home while in the middle of gathering soldiers for my own troop, I was finally able to see my sister again. She was thirteen. I was nineteen. After five years apart, she welcomed me back by throwing down an old, rusted sword at my feet and announcing that she was going to become a knight. She had the right to become a knight, she exclaimed, and she was going to help Ivalice or die trying.
I never wanted to hear those words from my only family. Not from such a thin, gawky-looking girl with wild hair and eyes that were almost hauntingly piercing. She didn't even look like she had enough muscle to pick up a sword, not to talk of hacking through a battlefield with one. I told her no, and she cursed me out.
It really had been a long time. I didn't think she even knew those kinds of words.
Why did I finally relent? I had hoped that she would quit, that she would understand that the battlefield is no place for skinny little girls with idealistic minds about war and their own efforts in it.
Maybe I was the only idealistic one.
Why are you doing this?
What a question to ask. Why'. Why do you think, brother?
There are supporters, there are followers, and then there is Miluda Folles. Could I have asked for a better assistant than her? She is, at once, a relentless warrior, a selfless friend, a thoughtful leader, an unpitying enemy. As long as she has a reason, as long as she has something to serve, she'll be at the forefront with a sword that shines with her fiery will.
She'll be right beside me every time.
I did not want my sister to become this. It's selfish of me, I know that, but somewhere in my mind I still had this hope that we'd get the pay owed to us and we can live a peaceful, calm life. She...neither of us would have to fight anymore. My sister can just be a normal woman, no longer a hardened warrior.
She is twenty-four. I am thirty. Dycedarg Beoulve in Igros has just informed me that the nobles owe us nothing.
I should've known as much.
I sit here now, as the sun shines down upon the ruins of what was our old home, waiting for her to arrive so that I can destroy our dreams. She wanted the money for medicine, for some of our people are at near death from the countless battles. Our white mages are overworked; ethers can only do so much for them. I just wanted to prove to everyone that our efforts would be rewarded, that we didn't have to be name brand knights like the Beoulves, that we didn't have to be nobles for justice to occur for our sake. This is what we both believed in, even though we were depending on the honor of those that have proved, time and time again, that they had none to begin with.
Why do we rush to bend over for them? We fight the nobility's wars, never our own. The war was carried on the backs of us so-called commoners, and for every life extinguished we put two more of our own in their place. We fight and bleed and die, and the aristocrats spit upon the battlefields where, even now, the corpses of our own still rot. Maybe later they will get a few of us to gather up the bodies of our fallen and incinerate them; cremation's a fire spell cheaper than actual burial.
And we, the living, might soon well wish that we had died with our comrades.
No longer. I won't stand for this any longer.
I can hear her steady footsteps as she approaches but I don't turn around. Her hand falls upon my shoulder and I start, just because it is such a strange thing for either of us. She must've not gotten one of the mages to heal those injured ribs, even though I told her to a week ago. She laughs lowly as she carefully settles down next to me, removing her hand from my shoulder afterward; she knows that I've realized that she has, once again, defied one of my orders. Does she care? Probably not even though I wish she would, if just for my peace of mind.
How are the injured? Such an obvious delay from the real topic at hand, but I honestly do want to know. After all, I'm the reason why they're injured in the first place.
She doesn't respond immediately, and when I look over at her I can see the stress lines along the profile of her face. After a moment or two, she glances at me, dark shadows under what used to be bright eyes. Not even the high-level cure spells could ease Eliza's pain, she answers shortly, eyes flickering before she looks out at the razed fields beyond us, the result of the Romandan invasion.
I see. Miluda has always had less of a problem slicing through the battle than with mercy killings. I can understand, but it's just another fact of life for us.
Thank God she hasn't become that cold yet.
There will be no medicine for the others, will there?
I want to apologize. I want to say that it's my fault, that I should've tried harder. Everyone is depending on me, and in this most crucial way I've failed them. But even now I can vividly recall Dycedarg Beoulve's condescending sneer, the wine bottle on his desk that cost more than Father's lifetime salary, the sickly-sweet poison in the form of words that could've only come from a forked-tongued noble...
I may not be good enough, but he's worse. As long as we continue to placate them and treat them like false gods, there will always be nobles like him, an entire aristocracy like him.
No, Miluda, there won't be.
Will there ever be?
I look at her, startled to see her staring right back. Right now, she looks like the little sister that threw down that sword at my feet, all wild hair and deep, desperate eyes belying her determination, her strength. She's different now, more of a warrior now, more of a woman now, but her inner qualities have only grown in all these years of constant battle. What kind of answer can I give her as her brother, as her leader? To tell her no, there never will be medicine, there never will be justice, we might as well stop now...that goes against every principle we ever fought for.
The war may be over, but Ivalice is not free yet. What are our lives worth if we lay down our swords and ideals now?
Did you ever think that the battle would end, Miluda? The question surprises her, I think, because she frowns and looks away. I want to know, I continue.
Isn't life a battle, Wiegraf? she asks in turn. I nod once, knowing that it doesn't matter. You always have these pithy sayings for everything, so let me make one of my own: I'll lay down my sword when the battle ends, but not before.
I sigh. You didn't answer the question.
Like it mattered, she snaps. I give her a hard look, and even though her head is still turned away she slouches slightly. You're still planning on fighting, aren't you?
There are choices in life that feel as if they never were a choice in the first place. I see my comrades dying, I hear the stomachs of the slum dwellers rumbling like the coming thunderstorms, I feel the hated smirk of the nobility as they take and take and forever take.
My sister is good at asking rhetorical questions.
We won't starve any longer. It is a promise, a dream, an ideal.
No brother, we won't, Miluda says, and when she turns to me she has a brilliant smile contrasting with her tired eyes. No one else will suffer for the nobility's sins. We'll show them that we'll always keep fighting this battle, she winces as she stands, favoring her injured right side, but her steps are lighter as she walks away.
I call out, and she pauses, get someone to heal your side. We'll start working on the plans tomorrow. She nods, walking towards the small house that holds our injured. I know she won't go there just yet, that she'll probably grab one of the other knights and start practicing her swordplay. She now has a reason to, after all.
I don't want her to fight, but I need her to.
I may regret letting my sister come with the remnants of our troop in the future. In some ways I already do. But we will need all the manpower possible to challenge the morally corrupt aristocracy that seeks to crush us under their heel.
This is a problem that will never go away unless we do something about it.
-Virgo fades into Libra...-
Ah, Virgo. Other than being the only sign where all its members die before Orbonne (excepting Altima, but it wasn't raised before Orbonne either), it's also the sign of practicality, self-perfection, and servitude to others and their causes. And so:
-The Folles siblings both initially serve to improve the lives of their fellow commoners. Miluda dies, and Wiegraf then goes to serve the Church. It is my opinion that when he began to serve himself and his need for revenge, he strayed far enough from his Virgoan roots to attract Velius of the Aries stone.
-Meanwhile, Algus serves the belief that the nobility is so much better than the commoners despite his own disenfranchised noble' status, eventually serving the Hokuten to prove his point.
-Gafgarion serves both Dycedarg and Draclau while believing that Princess Ovelia will introduce more turmoil in the country, what with the whole Orinas thing going on, so in some way he's also serving for what he believes is Ivalice's well-being.
-Celia serves Elmdor, as she/it is a servant of the Lucavi.
Out of all these people, I feel that the Folles siblings fit the standard Virgoan mindset the best as strong, determined people who cared deeply for what they fought for. I'll also note that Virgos tend to place a strong moral standard upon the people they work with, hence Wiegraf's actions throughout Chapter 1.
Virgo is the mutable earth sign, which is supposed to imply adaptable practicality. Considering how many alliances all these people have, I'm not surprised.
Other Virgos: One could make a strong case for Ajora being a Virgo (I'm sure I stated him as such in WHW), but if I can't confirm it, it's off limits for this series.
-When you first see Wiegraf in Chapter 1 at Dorter, Delita makes a comment about seeing him in Igros at the end of the war. Continuity is lovely, isn't it?
Reviewers!
Hey, The Burning Misery. No, it wasn't you that spoiled that game for me. I've got a lot of friends who love VII. Ah, graphics don't really matter to me.
With a name like yours, I can believe that you like angst. :) I used to love writing angst, but then I calmed down. At this rate I'll be writing sappy romance fics soon enough.
The truest form of ignorance is not knowing that there was even a question to ask in the first place. Hashmalum of the Leo stone is the boss you fight right before Altima, and his job class is the Regulator. He looks like a large lion wearing a skirt.
Hn...you know, I would never consider Ovelia, Izlude, Zalbag, Olan, or Vormav as minor characters' to FFT and its plot. I'm curious, who do you consider minor'?
Yeah, Altima was the demon of the Virgo stone, but why would you expect anything from that?
Yo, Hawk of Death. Who knows what sort of person Vormav was before Hashmalum took over, but considering the sort of children he had, he couldn't have been all bad, right?
Hi, TobyKikami. At first I was going to have a Vormav/Alma conversation, but then I realized that Alma was most likely unconscious the entire time he had kidnapped her. A story about being possessed by a demon is creepy enough, but one-sided conversations between middle-aged men and unconscious teenage girls... (shudder)
Ello, Luna. Nope, Hashmalum pretty much states that those voices were all Vormav's doubts and insecurities and somesuch. Y'know, pride goeth before the fall' and all.
I remembered that you were defending Wiegraf a couple times during WHW, so, take this as my gift to you...well, unless you don't like Miluda or something.
Nice to meet you, Kupo Stiltzkin! Well, I'm inspired by the smallest things in the game, so I'm glad you like the canon-ness of it all.
Ah, the Stellazio coin quest. Nope, didn't even think about it until you mentioned it, actually. Anyway, didn't the story of the Stellazio coins have to do with which zodiac sign Virgo was in love with? I've already stated what my inspiration was in Aries.
I Will Find You, huh? That work...no, nevermind. If you like it, I'm happy for you.
Since Serpentarius/Ophiuchus is in the middle of Saggitarius, I'm not going to do it. Sorry.
Ah, Supremia. I agree with you that people should review, but I just wanted to make clear that it's not my primary objective for writing, so it's okay if you miss a part or two. It seems that everyone knows an author who deserves more reviews and several who don't deserve the amount they have, but...well, all we can do is keep supporting what we like. Thank you for your support, especially since I had initially felt that this series was probably not going to interest anyone...man, was I pleasantly surprised.
I'm glad you liked the last chapter, it was fun to write. Though, I'd say that the stones are more of a gateway depending on the user, but the demons themselves don't force those that can hear them, like you said.
Sorry to hear that you haven't finished VI. I still haven't finished IV or V myself, however much I'd really like to.
Your brother really does have good taste. Well, I hope the both of you like this part!