Une Fleuraison Constante
(A Constant Blossoming)
By Tenshi no Ai
All French translations by Hawk of Death
I don't own the characters and locations in the game that are presented in this work, Square Enix does.
Chapter Three: The Most Important Man in Ivalice
You know, I honestly dislike having to travel all the way out to the middle of nowhere--So, you don't like living at the castle?--To the middle of nowhere just to look for you! Why do you refuse to just stay at the castle? It is a much nicer place to live, and I know that if anyone could appreciate its daily bustle, it would be you!Eh, that's fine every once in awhile, but my home's not so bad either.Mustadio, your skills are needed at the castle.Maybe so, Melly, but my dad needs me too.
With the ivory castle shining before them, Meliadoul Tingel stopped her chocobo, the fiery-colored bird only hesitantly following her command. The woman was clad in casual riding clothes more suited for a man. The hood of the dark riding cloak she wore had fallen from her head, exposing her chin-length, dark brown hair. As she pulled the hood back into place, she aimed a dark look at her friend. It is Meliadoul. Me-li-a-doul. After all these years, can you at least try to get it right once?
Mustadio Bunanza grinned as he procured an apple from the traveling bag slung over his left shoulder. He wore the work clothes of one who practically lived his life in Goug village's mines, and the pouches attached to the belts that settled along his hips were filled with all sorts of metal oddities made from the deposits of the mines. That's cause you tried to hit me when I called you
She grunted at this. Only my brother can call me that. Did it ever occur to you to just call me by my full given name?Eh, no.You are an idiot.Suddenly, I don't feel like fixing your castle! Mustadio said cheerfully as he began to guide his chocobo back towards his home, but was very quickly halted when Meliadoul grabbed hold of his collar, nearly pulling the young man off of the avian monster.
At his baleful glare, she smiled beatifically. Do not bother.You're a cruel woman, he pouted. Her smile grew wider.
Thank you. Your opinions always did matter the most. She let him go and gestured to the impossibly white castle that lay before them. Shall we go?
As the two leisurely rode towards the castle, the delicate breezes lifting Meliadoul's cloak as well as the tightly tied tail sticking out from behind Mustadio's head, the young man couldn't help but sigh when he noticed that the castle completely blocked his view of the expansive plains. It seemed to him that the castle had become a second home to him. That wasn't entirely a bad thing, considering the many friends he had made in the Ivalicians' ancestral home, but every time he left his home to come here, a powerful guilt gnawed inside him. As Meliadoul casually looked at him, he smiled widely, hiding his feelings behind a charming mask of mirth and mischievousness.
Pop should be doing these rounds, not me, Mustadio told himself, he's better at it. He's a natural at tinkering with things. Well, it's all he can do now, anyway.
Despite his thoughts, the bright-haired tinkerer kept up his smile as they entered Murond's stables, where they dismounted from the domesticated monsters. As Meliadoul cheerfully talked to the stable manager, Mustadio leaned against the corner of one of the holds, ignoring the curious bird that kept trying to nip at him and instead watching the older woman. While looking at her, he couldn't help but relax a bit. She had been his first friend in the castle since he started making his own rounds here three years ago. It was her who, more often than not, agreed to make the six day ride from the castle to Goug village just to drag him back, as Murond's various doors and other mechanical implements had a nasty habit of breaking down faster than in the other halls. It had always irritated her to ride down, as she hated to miss her various practices and classes; as the daughter of the commander of the Shrine Knights, as well as a Divine Knight in her own right, she was obliged to vigorously keep at her studies. Even the day they had met she was studying, as he could still remember clearly...
He was lost. Utterly lost. His father knew how to get around the enormous castle with ease, but his knee had been bothering him again, and so Mustadio had been sent in his place. The Church had promised that there would be a guide waiting for the boy at Murond hall, but the hall itself was so huge that he suspected that the guide would never be able to find him.
A young woman, clad in the requisite forest-green hood and dress of the Glabados sisterhood over sturdy golden armor, walked up to him, staring at him in a manner that made the apprentice mechanic raise an eyebrow. In his home region there were many rumors about an infamous female knight, and he couldn't help but wonder if this brunette was anything like the legendary knight was purported to be. Hi there. Something you want?
The woman tilted her head, frowning slightly in puzzlement. Bonjour. Vous ête le fils de Maître Bunanza, n'est-ce pas? Je suis celle qui vais vous donner une visite du château.
Mustadio could only stare back in a vague sort of befuddlement. He knew that the people of the castle were strange, but his father had never told him that they didn't even speak the same language! V-vous ne comprenez pas l'ancien Ivalicien? The woman shook her head once, the look on her face clearly showing that she felt that he was an idiot. I said, you are the son of Master Bunanza, correct? I will be the one giving you a tour of the castle.Well, okay, he said agreeably, still confused. So you can speak normally. Why didn't you do that from the first?
The woman frowned again, thin eyebrows aimed towards the bridge of her nose. I -was- speaking Ivalician. I thought everyone knew ancient Ivalician. Why do you speak so crudely is what I cannot help but wonder.You know, combining words with a negative. Didn't'. First you do not even comprehend our shared language, and now this? Soon, there will be people cutting out vowels and substituting numbers for words, all thanks to the example you have set.
Mustadio was getting an odd feeling from this woman. She sure -sounded- indignant and haughty, but her mahogany-colored eyes seemed to be twinkling in good humor. Well then, he grinned, let's let it. Sounds easier to handle, that's for sure.
She laughed suddenly, startling him, and clapped her metal-clad hands together with a loud clanging noise. So then, you understand! Finally, someone with a good sense of humor! Only Sir Rofel seems to understand this as a good quality. She held out her hand, the smile on her face making her fairly plain features suddenly attractive. My name is Meliadoul Tingel.Nice to meet you, he replied in turn, reaching out his own hand and surprised when she didn't crush his hand with her metal grip. I'm Mustadio Bunanza.Stop staring.
Mustadio jerked out of his memories, confronted by the lady knight's tiny smirk. Oh, sorry Melly, I was just thinking. So, what am I here to fix today?I do not quite know. I suppose someone has made a complete list, only to miss a thing or two and forcing me to retrieve you once again, she answered with a hint of weariness, leading them out of the stables and into Murond. If you do not want to live here, why not train someone here to take your place?Is anybody willing to? All anyone here cares about is the knighthood and swordplay skills, Mustadio responded, still somewhat mystified about the castle culture. Though he was friends with knights and cadets alike, he never claimed to understand why they clung so eagerly to the concepts of knighthood. It was pretty impressive to see the bright lights and pretty colors of the more flashy sword skills sparkle and shine, but they didn't seem to be terribly useful in real life.
Meliadoul shook her head, knowing full well her friend's opinions. Maybe someone would be interested, but any announcement we could make would have to be postponed for a while. Lately, there have been odd developments abound.Oh, really? Like what?I do not quite know, but my father seems most...preoccupied these days, a look of concern creased her youthful face as she brought one hand to her chin. She shook it off once she noticed Mustadio's interested look. Well, it is none of my concern.
He was about to respond when he noticed her stiffen. Looking ahead of them, he saw a blond knight heading towards them, dressed in the same sort of casual clothes that the Divine Knight herself was wearing. Before he could ask who this knight was, she had already bowed her head in the appropriate greeting used by those of a lower rank than who they were addressing. Sir Kadmus, good day.
The knight nodded in return. Miss Tingel, it is good to see you have returned safely.Are you going hunting now, Sir Kadmus?...Yes, I am. The red-eyed knight nodded again, saying with a hint of finality, Good day to you.
Meliadoul kept her head lowered until the man was far out of earshot. That is a strange thing, she murmured, more to herself than her companion, he usually goes to the stables via the market area...So, who was that guy? Mustadio wanted to know.
One of the four Pillars of the Shrine Knights, she answered, then glanced over at her friend and found his confused look not to her liking at all. You do not know what I am talking about, do you? she ran a hand through her short locks before she suddenly headed towards one of the doors that dotted the exquisite hallway. Here, I will show you their importance. They entered the room, which was relatively bare save for the rich red carpet laid upon the stone floor and the wooden plaques along the walls. All the Pillars of the history of the Shrine Knights are honored in this room, for they exemplify traits that are honored among both the knights and the clergy, the lady knight gestured towards the plaques on the wall opposite of the doorway, and those markers over there label who the Pillars are at this time.
Mustadio stepped forward, not because he was very interested in knowing, but rather because her tone compelled him to do so. One day you'll be up here, huh? he asked with a smile.
...I would be the first woman to do so, if that were to happen, she stated before turning towards the door. I need to find the list for what repairs are needed, so please stay here in the meanwhile.Sure, Melly, the mechanic said absently, walking up to the wooden markers that Meliadoul had specifically motioned to. Hm, these are pretty plain things... Vormav Tingel, The Pillar of Strength and Holy Commander of the Murond Shrine Knights'. Hm, way too much unneeded capitalization there. Rofel Wodring, The Pillar of Knowledge'...hey, I know who he is. Beowulf Kadmus, The Pillar of Morality'...huh, weird thing to be a Pillar' of. Huh...a plain one...?That is where my name will be imprinted.
A small grin appeared on Mustadio's face as he turned around to face this visitor. And here I thought they didn't just let anybody be this Pillar' thing, Kletian.
The man named Kletian Drowa stood at the doorway of the room, a smirk on his face as he assessed the Goug native. He was clad in the golden armor typical of a Shrine Knight, though the gray surcoat he wore over it signified that he was no typical knight, but rather a magician of the highest command, the lofty Sorcerer. He was almost too young to hold such a title, no more than a quarter century in age. With his slicked back dark brown hair leaving some strategic strands of hair falling into his intense olive-green eyes, he was popular among the many female mages that studied in Murond.
The smirk on the older man's face only grew wider at Mustadio's comment. It was due to the grace of God and Rofel's guidance that I was allowed such a position, he said humbly, though the smirk distracted from that greatly. It will be the same for Lady Tingel in a few years time, he added, walking up to the other man and gazing at his soon-to-be plaque with a more genuine smile.
Last I checked, she wasn't a noble, the mechanic said good-naturedly. So, what are you the Pillar' of?
Kletian's smile seemed to grow fonder at the question. I am The Pillar of Devotion'.O-oh really? Mustadio struggled not to comment, even going so far as to clench his hands into tight fists at his sides. But not even he could pass up such an opening. Yeah, I've heard about all those mages you've devoted your pilla--Those damn rumors, Kletian growled, his smile quickly forming into a snarl. Do they really think that Rofel would tolerate such behavior, especially from me?
Placatingly, the blond raised his hands, suddenly realizing just how much of a sore spot it was for the mage to teased about such behavior. Sorry, I thought those rumors ended a long time ago.
Usually the mage would not easily accept apologies, especially about a subject as irksome as this, but this time he merely shook his head in a weary manner. When I was nominated for the position, they flared up again. Rofel and Lady Tingel had quite the time in assuring the priests of my good standing.
Mustadio would never understand castle politics, much less those of each hall. Not knowing exactly what to say, he just lowered his hands and shrugged helplessly. Well, at least you made it, right?
Steady footsteps were the only warning the two men had before Meliadoul's voice broke through the conversation. Mustadio, I have the list. Sir Kletian, so nice to see you.
Before Mustadio could even begin to turn around to greet his friend, Kletian had already spun around and was now greeting her respectfully. Lady Tingel, it is a relief to see that you have arrived home safely, he smiled charmingly.
And you wonder why those rumors started in the first place? Mustadio could not help but think as he witnessed the older man lay on the charm.
Apparently, Meliadoul felt the same way. Sir Kletian, I know that the title is something of a private jest between yourself and Sir Rofel, so you do not have to address me in such a manner, she raised an eyebrow when Kletian adopted a look of innocence, It is not in mere jest, the Sorcerer replied, and Sir Rofel and myself are not the only ones of this hall that refer to you in such a manner. But, that is for another time. Lady Tingel, Mustadio, I take my leave, he inclined his head towards the lady knight before making his way out of the small room. They watched him leave, twin blank expressions on their faces.
...Well, I suppose devotion' fits him pretty well, huh Melly?
The only answer he received was a sigh and a slow shake of her head.
-0-
By the time Mustadio left Murond hall, dragging his feet along the plush scarlet rugs that lined the endless corridors, the sun was slowly desecending at the end of a long day. The tools of his trade played out an uncoordinated jingle within their pouches, an almost cheery tune if it weren't for the mixture of exhaustion and irritation playing along the young man's features. Usually his job was fairly routine, tightening the bolts that held the doors in their respective places and other such miscellaneous work. However, due to the unusually harsh winter that had befallen the country, he had not been able to fulfill his mundane duties since October of the last year. This led to a horrid amount of work; doors nearly falling off of their hinges, along with a few that already had and were just lying in the doorway. The priests and other passerby, instead of trying to fix the doors themselves, were content in walking over them. Meliadoul had helped, her unnatural strength more than welcome for holding up the solid oaken doors while Mustadio tightened the hinges. Once she spotted her brother she had left, citing a need to practice her swordplay.
Mustadio was sure that he saw pure, unadulterated fear on her brother's face.
Left to his own devices, he was forced to do all of the heavy work as well as the more delicate jobs simultaneously. Mustadio was no stranger to jobs that required strength, for he often worked in the drifts back in Goug, digging out materials to be used for all sorts of objects, but to fix and fix and endlessly fix all the hallways and the many, many floors of Murond was asking too much of him.
Now he only tried to make it into Gallionne hall, hoping find his good friend Ramza Beoulve so that he could stay in the Beoulve quarters. Of course he could've asked Meliadoul for a room, but after his first stay in Murond introduced him to nights of odd, droning chanting echoing from the main chapel before daybreak, he quickly tried to find room and board in another hall on subsequent returns to the castle. A cold rush at the memory of the haunting chanting made goosebumps rise underneath his work shirt, causing him to shiver and drag himself out of Murond faster.
After somehow managing to make it into Gallionne, he beat a determined path to the plush quarters of the Beoulve family. To Mustadio's knowledge, only Ramza and his best friend Delita Hyral ever seemed to occupy the area, as the elder Beoulve brothers seemed to live in their offices and their respective sisters were currently at Orbonne. Despite this, there were no lack of servants milling around. One such servant, a young and bountiful maid wearing clothes that were more splendid than those of the average village girl's, noticed the rather pathetic sight of Mustadio limply walking towards Ramza's room. Master Bunanza? she called, unsure of this sight before her.
With a reflexive smile, Mustadio's head seemed to bobble in her direction. Hello, just here to see Ramza, that's all...Well, ah... the maid was at a loss for words, nervously running thin fingers through her auburn hair before finally saying, I am sorry, Master Bunanza, but Master Beoulve has not been here for some time now.Wha-a-a-t? I came here all the way from Murond and he's not here? Resigned to his ever-increasingly bad luck, he hung his head in despair. But he's al-ways here...Please forgive me for bearing bad news. He and Master Hyral departed on a mission three days before. I hear they are going to retrieve Lady Beoulve and Lady Hyral.I see... he responded. An idea flashed through his head, causing him to lift up his head, revealing eyes shining with hope. So, can I still stay here?
The maid's shoulder's sank, her eyes filled with pity. I am afraid not. It is only on Master Ramza Beoulve's willingness to take responsibility that such a thing was allowed in the first place; these quarters are only for those of the Beoulve family and those adopted by them.
Mustadio sighed; it was all he could do. Thanks anyway... he said as he began to leave, but the servant girl's next words only reinforced his belief that he was nothing more than God's plaything.
By the way, there is a list of things for you to attend to, if you would be so kind...?
-0-
Mustadio Bunanza roamed the scarlet-and-gold-drenched halls of Zeltennia hall, miserable, tired, and still clinging to some faraway hope that he would be able to find a warm bed elsewhere from Murond. The covered candle holders along the walls provided enough light in the barren corridor, the flames flickering and creating shadows that played along the edges of his vision. It wasn't terribly dark, yet something about the shadows touched upon a fear the young man held about the night.
--Ajora est bon, Ajora est gentil, Dieu nous souris, les êtres choisis d'Ajora...Ajora est bon...--
He could hear them, chanting, chanting, endlessly chanting while the darkness still curled around him. Their voices were faint, and yet he could hear them, forever repeating the same thing over and over until he felt that something dark had entered his mind, his soul.
--Ajora est bon, Ajora est gentil, Dieu nous souris, les êtres choisis d'Ajora...Ajora est bon...--
Once the maggots have laid their eggs, their larvae would be certain never to leave, only burrowing deeper into the core.
--Ajora est bon, Ajora est gentil, Dieu nous souris, les êtres choisis d'Ajora...Ajora est bon...--
Excuse me, but are you alright?
Mustadio screamed and jumped away from the hand that had softly touched his shoulder, his mind so entrenched as it was with this deep-seated fear. The disembodied voices were scary enough without the idea that they could possess solid limbs under the cloak of the night. But when he turned around to face what could be his fear with a face--or otherwise--the only being there was was a man with darker skin than the norm and a strange hairstyle. Who...who're you? he breathed out unsteadily, unsure if he should lower his guard or not.
I...I mean you no harm, good sir. My name is Orlan Durai, of Zeltennia.
At this, the mechanic completely relaxed. Oh, sorry. I, uh, was just thinking about an experience I had in Murond, he shuddered at his own mention of it and resolved to never think about it again. My name's Mustadio Bunanza, from Goug village.
Orlan appeared to recognize the name, something Mustadio was very used to seeing by now. I see. You are Besrodio Bunanza's son, the one who has taken over his job here.Part time, Mustadio muttered before inexplicably cheering up. Say, you wouldn't happen to know if there's a spare room I can stay in for the night...?Well, of course, the native of the hall said with a shrug, a small smile on his face. In fact, it is nothing short of good luck that I was able to find you. You see, there are some things that need to be fixed...
Mustadio held up his hands, something of desperation crossing his face. Heh...how about I do it tomorrow...?
-0-
--twck--
Mustadio did not stir from his borrowed bed, engrossed as he was in discovering the many pleasures of the dream world. The room that Orlan had shown him was small and in the servants' quarters of Zeltennia, just as comfortable as any other room in the castle. Its single flaw was a sizable slit in the walls, someone's attempt in the centuries past to make the room unique by giving it a scenic view of the vast plains.
--twck--
Now the young man stirred, shifting and burrowing deep within the scratchy blankets made from behemoth manes. Still, he slept.
--twck--
Pop, wha'...stoppit, he mumbled grouchily.
--twck--
The villager opened his eyes, momentarily startled by the wrongness of his surroundings before he realized that he wasn't at home. He yawned and stretched, wondering if the peculiar noise he had heard--
--twck--
Ah, so it wasn't some weird dream thing, he mused. The moonlight flowed into the room via the window', lighting up the room considerably. He got out of bed, wincing at the feeling of the cold stone beneath his bare feet, and walked over to the window, peering curiously out of the slit. He had fine senses, especially his sight, and he could make out a figure that stood below his vantage point, aiming something at an object that glowed white in the moonlight. Something flew out of this other something, embedding itself into the white object with a sound that he was becoming very familiar with.
Hey, you, Mustadio called, noticing the figure spin around at the sound of his voice, it's late. Can you do your target practice in the morning?
The figure, now having spotted the young man in the room, waved the object menacingly at him. Silence, servant, you have no right to talk so familiarly to a noble such as I! What I do concerns you not!
Mustadio raised an eyebrow at this. The voice was masculine, the tone haughty. He'd never gotten along with people that only put their worth in the status they had been born into. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, I don't care who you are, I'm trying to sleep!To say such a thing... the noble barked indignantly. Knavish fool! To say such a thing while staying in the servants' den...you must be a sympathizer of the Death Knights!
Such a comment was not necessarily an insult to the tinkerer. Though he worked in the castle occasionally, there were always small tensions between the villagers and those that lived in the castle. As far as he knew, the Death Knights had been born out of the desire to force the castle to understand the complaints the villages held in regards to the unbalanced treatment. While he was no true follower of the group, especially considering the travesty they had become, he could understand and admit that he thought their original cause noble. However, he was tired and had already realized that the man below his window would probably not care for a discussion on the matter.
He shook his head and returned to bed. The man ranted at him for a while before the sounds of before started again. Before falling into a dreamless haze, Mustadio decided he would take Meliadoul up on her idea of training new workers to take his place.
The allure of the ivory castle had disappeared a long time ago for him.
-End to Chapter Three-
First of all, there will be no updates for this series in November. Please go to my bio to find out why.
Let's see...if anyone else has a suggestion for the name of Izlude's moogle, I'm still taking names until...well, until Izlude shows up again.
-A really pendatic translation adjustment: Mustadio calls his father oyaji' in the original. Every time I've seen it translated, it's in a more slangy form than the more formal father', which the game goes by. An example of its usual connotation would be in FFX, where Tidus abuses my old man', which is a common translation of oyaji'.
-The chanting that haunts Mustadio's soul directly translates to Ajora is good, Ajora is kind, God smiles down upon us, Ajora's chosen ones...Ajora is good...'
Reviewers!
Ello, Hawk of Death! I think that most people prefer Ramza and Delita as their Chapter 1 selves, because afterward Delita really gets messed up. Teta was cool too, even though she was only really talking in one cutscene before she got kidnapped.
Oh, really? I don't think I'll ask who you think the hiding duo are...but I'm curious. :(
Ah, you have good taste in characters! I'm more fond of Miluda than Wiegraf, but otherwise I like your list. I don't know why I like Rofel either...
Yo, Luna. Thanks for your list of names! Several of them are real contenders.
I should really try to force myself away from the Reis/Beowulf pairing...I'd hate for people to think that many of my works are the same!
Ehehe...well, let's just see how Ramza and Delita's friendship evolves over the course of this first arc (which I'll cleverly name The Death Knight Danger arc' or something equally boring).
Spiritual Insinuation. Wow, that just sounds awesome. Too bad you're having your problems with the flow of the story. Well, I think that one of the hardest things in writing is knowing what to put in and what to leave out, even if we ourselves really like what we should be leaving out.
Hey, The Burning Misery! Yeah, I could have realized that you liked AU stories from your progress list...but I didn't. I'm not very observant. Though I couldn't care less for elves and such, I like dragons. Hell, I just like monsters.
Thank you for your comments! Where are Rad and Gafgarion, you ask? Um, not here yet. Well, your plot related questions, particularly those that have to do with the connection to the game, can generally be answered by realizing how close or far I'm following the game. By the end of this arc we'll all have a better idea about it.
I wish you good luck on your fic endeavors because...well, that's really all I can do, seeing how I don't read FFVII fics.
