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 Eight: Stripping the Corpse

The morning was overcast, a sky that was normally a clear blue canvas now distorted with gray splatters and splotches tinged by a refreshing swipe of white. Though the clouds made for a bleak atmosphere, they appeared more fluffy than dense, puff pastries waiting to be consumed by the unyielding appetite of the rising sun. Yesterday's rumors persisted into today, and just like the clouds there were new developments that stunted Gallionne's celebration. Or, to be more exact, the Hokuten's celebration. The military faction hadn't revealed to the denizens of the blue and gold shrouded halls that there was nothing to be proud of anymore.

Murond had stolen their prisoners.

It was a very disappointing development, particularly to the higher ranks of the faction. They knew that their commander would not act against Murond, entrenched as he was in the Glabados faith. Those who had served under the last two leaders of the Hokuten, Balbanes and Dycedarg respectively, freely commented on whether their current leader's father or brother would've actively gone against Murond's increasingly bewildering behavior; it was obvious to those in the peanut gallery that Murond was adamant on protecting its own. The opinion was unanimous among the elder knights that Balbanes would've dealt with it quietly but firmly, because he had been a truly honorable man who would have never been able to tolerate such an audacious display of coddling enemies of the country. No one could really comment on Dycedarg, considering that he hadn't been at the post of commander for all that long before being replaced by Zalbag. However, it was commonly held that he would've done something. If Zalbag wanted to continue to be respected by his troops he would have to act soon. Everyone understood faith and keeping with one's religious beliefs, but Murond was beginning to overstep itself and something had to be done. After all, to these Gallionnians Murond wasn't a true hall anyway.

When Beowulf Kadmus strode into Gallionne just before eight in the morning, he was greeted by a host of suspicious glances from the guards. He kept a stoic look upon his face while wondering how he was going to bring his friends into Gallionne without starting a riot. Judging by how many scowling faces he was now counting, he thought it would be more prudent to ask Zalbag to come with him to Murond. He knew that it was a longshot that the Hokuten commander would even grant an audience with Wiegraf and Miluda, not to talk of being willing to be perceived as weak by actively going to Murond to seek their knowledge.

Inwardly, the Temple Knight sighed. He hated politics.

He reached Zalbag's office, still unsure of how to approach the Arc Knight in a way that would generate the best results. Barging in would be a very good way to get thrown out of Gallionne, but judging by the attitudes of some of the knights there was the possibility of being ignored if he decided to knock beforehand. Such a dilemma, such a horrible dilemma when it was still early and everything rested on him and he was so very indecisive...

"Is there something you want?"

Thank God, Beowulf thought as he noticed Zalbag standing before him; the other man was apparently returning to the office. "I would like to have a word with you," the Shrine Knight said, pouncing on the opportunity with great relief. While he was intelligent, he preferred not to make a decision before taking the time to fully plot out the consequences of each choice he could make. This was partly why he had decided to leave his leadership duties in Lionel for a subordinate role in the castle, though that hadn't worked out like he had thought it would.

Zalbag, unlike his subordinates, seemed rather subdued at the moment. "You did not wish to talk before," he stated.

"You were accusing me of being an accessory in the tragedy of Limberry," Beowulf replied, his demeanor calm, "something no one would like to have their name connected to." He paused, then smiled slightly. "Not even Wiegraf or Miluda."

This piece of news seemed to hit upon the right note within the young commander, for he simply opened the door to his office and waved the Temple Knight in. After they took their seats, Zalbag affixed Beowulf with a piercing glare. "Why should I believe you?"

"Why should you not?"

"You would seek to defend them, considering your long-standing friendship with the both of them. You even made Wiegraf Folles the leader of the Lionel Holy Knights before you departed for the castle. Despite your title, you are still a human bound by his ties."

"We all are," Beowulf idly commented, glancing around the bare room and wishing for a color other than dimmed ivory. "I may be just a human, but I earned my title, just as Wiegraf earned his title as a White Knight."

Something dark flinched within Zalbag's eyes, and Beowulf knew he had struck a nerve. It was common knowledge that Balbanes Beoulve had been one of the most honored White Knights in Ivalician history; so honored, in fact, that he was given the additional title of 'Heavenly Knight' to emphasize the purity that was his very soul. Even with that, White Knights were very rare to begin with. The odds were perhaps one out of a hundred that a Holy Knight would be recognized for their extraordinary strength of will, awe-inspiring integrity and craving to help others even beyond their own needs. This Holy Knight would be blessed by Murond's High Priest as a White Knight, though the two elite knights shared the same skillset. Wiegraf had been the last honored with the title, as Holy Knights were fairly rare to begin with.

It was also commonly known that Zalbag had been denied that honor.

"The White Knight..." Zalbag shook his head as his sense of control came rushing back into his gaze, something that interested the Temple Knight. Invoking that elite title really did have an interesting effect on the Arc Knight. "Why he was able to keep his title after Limberry I will never understand."

"It is confidential." Beowulf inwardly smiled as he remembered the voting process. He had not been allowed to vote due to his personal involvement, and Vormav generally kept out of such small affairs. In the end it had been just Rofel, but it was just as official as anything else.

Zalbag nodded, a faint touch of suspicion lingering along his features. "So Rofel has said."

"So then, what is your decision on the matter? They are more than willing to talk to you."

"Are you sure I really have a say in this?" Zalbag asked, his tone sarcastic. Beowulf could understand why, though he took no pleasure in it. "And who will Murond assign as the mediator?"

"I will oversee the meeting, if you do not mind."

"You are a mediator?"

"In practice, we are all mediators." The Temple Knight decided to adopt a serious tone as he continued with, "Besides, in this case it would definitely be more prudent to keep as many foreign ears out of this as possible. It is...delicate information."

While there was a trace of bitterness in the Hokuten commander's eyes, Beowulf could see that the younger man was trying to be as receptive as possible, particularly once he had heard the last line about 'delicate information'. "If that is so, then I want to see them as quickly as they are able."

Beowulf nodded and rose from his seat. "Then, they will be here shortly."

-0-

Yesterday, I wanted to execute them. Today, I will be talking to them as equals.

It hurt.

Zalbag had always thought himself a reliable leader. He held no illusions regarding comparison between his father's years as the Hokuten commander and his own; it would take a long time before he would even begin to approach his father's accomplishments as the Holy Knight of the Hokuten. He was proud of himself thus far, and he continually strove to follow his father's footsteps, but this time he knew that he had made a mistake somewhere.

It was embarrassing to have his prisoners taken the very day he had thrown them into the dungeon. He knew that the Temple Knight had done this, but he could not harbor a grudge towards the man for this action. He should've expected it, and later today he planned to look over the security protocols and find a way to strengthen the guards so that it would not take someone with a high rank and a clever mind to take his prisoners.

-I may be just a human, but I earned my title, just as Wiegraf earned his title as a White Knight-

White Knight Wiegraf Folles, mastermind of the most brutal attack on a territory of Ivalice by someone who was Ivalician by birthright. Zalbag had never understood why the commoner from Lionel was granted such a title in the first place. When he had first heard about it years ago, he had traveled to Lionel in order to find out what made this man so special as to receive that honor, and consequently what he himself had lacked. All he had found was an intensely proud commoner who was polite, but not the beacon of kindness that his own father had been. When Wiegraf began recruiting for his 'Death Knights', Zalbag knew something suspicious was up. However, he had never acted, believing in the worth of the title in lieu of the worth of the man.

And Limberry had suffered for his naivety.

Three knocks resounded from the door, interrupting his brooding. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he decided to stay seated. They were still Death Knights; he would not rise for their kind. "Come in," he called, and the door creaked open in response.

The first one he noticed was the woman who had foolishly tried to pull a sword on him the day before. She had been a metallic demon then, all silver and green with a gleaming dragon for a face. Today, however, there was an important difference: her face was bare. Eyes the color of Ordalia's famous turquoise jewelry glittered fiercely from underneath tousled bangs. She was glowering at him, a phenomena Zalbag was unused to. The noble ladies of the court always wore pleasantly bland faces around him, and they were able to conjure primp little smiles at a marriage opportunity's notice. This woman had life blazing on her attractive face, and if it weren't for the thinly veiled anger aflame in her eyes Zalbag would've been charmed by her, even though she was just a commoner.

He might have been charmed anyway, regardless of her attitude.

The thought bothered him, just like the new presence of the woman's brother. Zalbag couldn't help but notice their very similar appearance, from their angular facial features down to the tint of their blond hair, and he wondered how the princess' bodyguard could've walked with them for days without realizing who it was she was allying herself with. That was when he picked up on another item of notice: the natural confidence that exuded from the siblings. They were on his home turf, they were the criminals...yet judging by their stances they were proud of who they were and didn't bother concealing their self-satisfaction.

That annoyed Zalbag.

He dimly noticed their self-appointed mediator, who was standing to the left of the woman. Her brother stood at her other side, and the Arc Knight couldn't help but wonder why they were flanking her when it would've made more sense to place the leader of the Death Knights or the Murond knight in the middle. Letting go of the thought, he gestured for them to sit down before he reached for a quill and tapped it against the ink bottle it eternally rested beside. He preferred to take his own notes since he was more meticulous at such a duty than the hired recorders. He wrote down the date and the people involved in today's discussion in his slanted handwriting before letting his gaze settle on the three before him. The woman was still glowering at him; the men had equally neutral expressions. "Is there something you would like to say before we begin...Miss Folles?" Zalbag asked, already tired of her relentless glare. He felt he had more of a right to wanton anger at the moment than she did.

There was a shared look between Wiegraf and the Temple Knight before their attention focused on the woman between them. In a moment that seemed like eternity, there was a mounting pressure between the two men who silently stared at the lady knight who balanced precariously between giving into the strange hate glittering in her light eyes and a peace that seemed all too rare for her.

Slowly, thoughtfully, she pursed her lips before crisply saying, "Not at all."

Suddenly, Zalbag understood why she was in the middle.

"...I am glad to hear it," he said with a touch of wariness. He looked down at his paper and scribbled, Miluda Folles, probably unmanageable for information. Hostile. "Before we begin, I have a few questions that I would like to clear up," the Arc Knight gritted his teeth before continuing with, "if that is alright with you."

"It is fine," said Wiegraf, his cool tone bothering Zalbag more than his sister's fiery glare.

"Explain to me the original purpose of the Death Knights, as per your...vision." Were you always murderers? Did you just grow bored and decided that Limberry would prove to be more entertaining? The thoughts nearly became words, accusations that he had thought in his mind countless times since the day of the attack. It would have been detrimental to speak his mind, which made him realize that, just for this moment, he was uncomfortably like the woman who now kept her gaze deliberately away from him.

"As you wish." Wiegraf said politely. "The Death Knights were supposed to be for the commoners as the Hokuten and Nanten are for the nobility. We have always been forced to depend on the graciousness of the castle forces to grant support to the villages, particularly in disputes involving the so-called 'lower class'." The last words were spoken harshly, the first real emotional display from the White Knight since Zalbag had the Hokuten knights surround him and his sister. "The province of Lionel is fortunate in this regard, compared to places like Dorter and Zarghidas."

Zalbag narrowed his eyes at the implication. The words were not undeserved; as popular trading posts, both towns had invited a certain stench of corruption along with the goods. Dorter was controlled by a mayoral post set up by the crown while Zarghidas was ruled under the direct control of Duke Goltana of Zeltennia hall, but even with such weighty command the towns had such problems like zoning disputes between the nobles and commoners, black markets and illegal trade, overinflation of goods and certain unacceptable debaucheries to appeal to the foreigners. The only other trade town, Warjilis of Lionel, was virtually clean due to the efforts of Cardinal Draclau and the commoner-filled Lionel Holy Knights. The Hokuten were not involved in either Dorter or Zarghidas, but Zalbag was still irritated.

"So then," he started, forcibly keeping his thoughts on the matter before him, "you thought to create a nation-wide network of commoner knights based upon the style of the Lionel Holy Knights. Is that it?"

"Yes. In this day and age, we do not believe in needing to depend on the nobility when we ourselves are able to take care of our own problems," Wiegraf replied.

Death Knights' goal to support commoners using commoners, the Arc Knight wrote down, pondering on the idealism of the words he was hearing. They sounded wonderful, but the schism between Wiegraf's words and the recent actions of the Death Knights bothered him. "And as for the name?" he asked dryly.

"It's called intimidation," Miluda said in a flat tone. "The world outside the castle is a very dangerous place. Fight fire with fire. I'm sure even you can understand that."

"Miluda," Beowulf whispered in a warning tone. Zalbag looked at his notation on the lady knight and underlined 'hostile'.

"At any rate, your group attacked Limberry." Even though this statement was the entire reason for the meeting at hand, the Hokuten commander noticed a subtle current of...surprise? Whatever it was, it caused the siblings to tense, and even their castle-dwelling friend lowered his gaze. "Why?" Zalbag pressed on.

There was a grim, thin-lipped smile on Miluda's face. "We were betrayed."

"It is a little more complicated than that," Wiegraf commented, appearing to have focused his attention on his sister for the moment. "I still believe-"

"It doesn't matter what you believe, Wiegraf! It still happened!" Miluda snapped back, focused fury flitting about her features. She looked as if she was about to say more, but the Temple Knight leaned over and whispered something in her ear. "Right, I haven't forgotten," she muttered, her gaze flickering towards Zalbag's face for the barest of moments before closing her eyes in something that resembled defeat. "Go ahead."

Wiegraf looked completely unfazed; Zalbag guessed that the upcoming account was a point of contention between the two. "Less than a year ago, we left the service of the Lionel Holy Knights and began recruiting for the Death Knights. It was going better than expected, and we had the support of many different kinds of warriors. While a lot of our initial soldiers were young men and women from the more rural areas, and therefore novices to battle, we also managed to entreat a number of more experienced knights. Some of them were mercenaries, and although they were used to risking their lives for coin, they understood our viewpoint and decided to fight for a cause.

"In Igros village, we met a mercenary named Gaff Gafgarion and his companion. They agreed to join us without a question." The White Knight (though Zalbag still had a hard time reconciling that title with the green-clad man before him) glanced at his sister, who was listening to his narration without a word of input. "I suppose that was the first indicator that something was amiss. At the time, however, we were only optimistic, particularly in regards to the fact that Gafgarion seemed to be a powerful ally."

Gaff Gafgarion...? The name was not a familiar one to the Hokuten commander, even though Igros was under Gallionne and Duke Larg. He made a note of it, then dipped his quill into the inkwell. "Why would you suppose a thing like that?" he asked.

"Because he was a Dark Knight," Miluda answered. "An elite knight is always a valuable asset, after all."

I would hardly call that elite, Zalbag thought in disgust. Such a class was anathema to everything he held dear, down to the abilities of the Night Sword skill set. Those who fed off of the life and mana of others were no better than ravens after the battle. "So then, this...man betrayed you?"

"Not just him," Wiegraf answered, his voice subdued. "But I have not gotten to that point yet. Gafgarion and his charge ingratiated themselves into the ranks, but we were occupied with finding a permanent place for our base of operations, as well as support from a sympathetic noble outside of Lionel. Using our connections, we were able to get in touch with Marquis Elmdor, who was willing to hear us out."

That made sense to Zalbag. Mesdoram Elmdor was a refined man, someone who could be used to define the heart of nobility. Despite his rank and affluence, due to his life as a country lord and his affiliation with Murond he was far more tolerant of the commoner class than most aristocrats were. "So, you went to Limberry," Zalbag stated.

"Yes, in full force. This last winter had been harsher than usual, and we had needed even a temporary place to stay. When we arrived..." Wiegraf paused. "Miluda."

"...You see, I'm...I was the second-in-command. And I earned that right," she said hastily, as if the Arc Knight had immediately disbelieved her. "There was another man who was high in the chain of command. His name is Gustav Margueriff, and he had been a part of the Lionel Holy Knights since Beowulf was their commander. He's hated me since the day I joined their ranks as a squire, and I guess he hated it even more that my brother would have me as second-in-command instead of himself."

Zalbag felt he was missing the point. "Why?"

"...Why?" she repeated, the look on her face clearly revealing how stupid she thought him to be. "Because I'm a woman, that's why." She shook her head, wavy tresses bouncing with the movement. "The point is, he joined up with Gafgarion because of this, and they decided that Limberry was when they were going to overthrow my brother and I. They'd gotten much of the troops on their side, and we were only able to escape with a few others."

"They destroyed a large part of the town, and suddenly all our hard work for legitimization was for naught," Wiegraf stated, his tone bland. "Your Hokuten were after us as the insignators of that day, perfectly playing into whatever Gafgarion had planned. However, Miluda had picked up that Gafgarion had a much larger scheme in mind, and that was to assassinate the princess. So, we staked out Orbonne and waited."

At these words, Zalbag paused in his note-taking. Their story was almost believable up to now, but it was this last point that made no sense. "Why would a commoner want to harm the princess?" he asked, searching for anything within the siblings' eyes that would reveal their deceit. "She may be a titled member of the royal family, but on her own she has no real power to affect anything."

"Correct me if I am wrong..." Wiegraf started, "I know very little about the convoluted aristocratic monarchy system, but perhaps there is a chance she could adopt power if the right person was using her?"

"Why would anyone want to do that? Prince Orinas is the rightful heir to the throne. After all, he is an Atkascha by blood," Zalbag countered, disliking the question the man had posed. It whispered of ugly things in Ivalice's future.

"The princess is royal by blood as well," Beowulf gently reminded him. "She is the late king's sister and the original heir before the prince was born."

Zalbag shot the Temple Knight a nasty look. "Mediators should know their place."

"...Hm. I apologize."

"Anyway, I do not deal in conspiracy theories. Is that all?" Just as he thought, there was no reason to believe them.

Miluda stood, her face a beacon of disbelief. Though his vision was mostly filled with imposing lady knight, Zalbag noticed the Temple Knight about to reach out to the woman. Just as suddenly, the Shrine Knight aborted the action. He had no time to ponder this before Miluda let loose a tirade upon him. "Are you naturally an idiot, or is there something in the castle air that turns you nobles into self-entitled morons who can't think beyond your noses? The Death Knights under Gafgarion's charge tried to kill the princess! They tried to kill your brother and sister, and if it weren't for us you'd be making funeral arrangements right now! Obviously, there is something very wrong with the state of things if people are trying to kill a former heir to the throne and members of one of the most well-known noble families in the country!" She crossed her arms and glared down at him, her brilliant eyes flashing in anger. "Now, you can either do your job and stop any further attacks or you can keep blaming us for all your damn problems. Which one will it be?"

Zalbag's tolerance did not extend to being shouted at by a traitor to all that was good in Ivalice. He leaned forward, anger and irritation churning within his eyes. "I do not have to do a thing if I do not have evidence."

"Gafgarion was hired by someone in this very castle to subvert the Death Knights to his cause. Your own family members can substantiate that the cause was to eliminate the princess. Would you argue with that?" she retorted, a challenge implicit in her tone.

He couldn't. Both his brother and Delita had recounted the words of the squire leader shortly before the group of Death Knights had attacked.

-We don't wish for this to come down to a fight. Just hand over the princess and we'll leave the rest of you alone-

But if it was true that the mercenary Gafgarion had been hired by someone in the castle who wished to eliminate the princess from ever ending up on the throne, then that someone either wanted to maximize the prince's chance of becoming king or...

No. He was not going to go down this path. Only Gallionne was involved with the throne at this point, and no one of Gallionne would stoop to such evil acts. Members of the Beoulve family-his own brother and sister-had been present. No one of Gallionne would even think of shedding the blood of their premier knight family.

-Send Ramza and Delita in their stead. It would be good for them to leave the castle every now and then-

No.

"I will not argue the fact," he replied, his tone hard. "But you have not provided me with the name of whoever this Gafgarion could be working for. In that case, what would you have me to do?"

The woman sat down, the anger draining away from her face. Zalbag watched with interest as she turned to her brother. Brother and sister seemed to communicate without words, and he felt an odd pang at this. Finally, they turned to look at him, their gazes heavy with anguish.

"Sir Beoulve, you may never believe me, but this is not what I intended of my dream," Wiegraf said, his voice low. "Whatever you may think of us now, know that we love our country. We would never harm innocents, and we will not have our ideals twisted to become someone's pawn in the politics of the castle.

"We are asking you to help us in destroying those who call themselves the Death Knights."

-End to Chapter Eight-

This chapter is late, and I apologize about that. Truthfully, I haven't been feeling all that great in regards to continuing this story. I want to, but I'm not feeling all that inspired as of late. So, at this time I'd like to ask if there's anything I can do to improve the story, particularly in regards to the writing. I've been thinking recently that I'm either not improving as much as I used to or I'm getting worse. So please, if you can, I'd like to hear your opinions on this. Reviews are always, always appreciated, but I would really like the help right now.

Reviewers!

Trueborn Chaos, don't even worry about wounding my sensitive artist's soul. If there's an error that I didn't notice while proofreading, I would prefer someone telling me about it rather than finding out months later and after the majority of the readers have already read the chapter. It's not bugging me, it's doing me a service.

Hi, Luna. Yeah, I don't care for Agrias either, but when I wrote out that scene I thought to myself, 'Gee, isn't this a little harsh?' Then again, in-game Zalbag isn't always a nice man. You're right that friendships are just as important as the familial bonds, but as the game doesn't care too much about developing friendships beyond Ramza and Delita's, I feel as if I'm writing blindly. Ah, the perils of fanfiction.
You're lucky you live that close to Otakon. I live less than thirty minutes away from Anime Expo, but that convention just isn't to my liking anymore. Right now I'm deciding if it's even possible to make it to this year's Otakon, considering that it falls at around the time that my fall semester starts. The last time I went to Otakon, it was in July...