Penitentes

by trimurti

Inside the Deep Dungeon, there is a corridor that lures in those steeped in regret. Some of Ramza's finest warriors are trapped there, and the only person who can save them is...Mustadio?

3. 2: Martyr

Penitentes

A Final Fantasy Tactics fanfic

By Tenshi no Ai

(C) Square Enix

Chapter 2: Martyr

Out of all the people who followed Ramza, surprisingly few of them considered Mustadio as a good friend. He was on friendly terms with most of them, but there was something about the engineer himself that sometimes rubbed against the others the wrong way. Perhaps it was his blindly cheerful demeanor, or his quick Lionel accent, or his inability to speak while utilizing his mind - something that led to numerous tactless errors. Whatever it was, it also instilled in him a graceless charm, and so he could be forgiven...every once in a while. But he did grate on sensitive nerves weakened by personal problems and the existence of frequent battles.

No one likes the cheerful when they're trying to angst in peace. That's just rude.

When Meliadoul first joined the party, most expected her to be a more severe form of Agrias; that sort of dour, stern personality who held duty and honor to the highest dictates. Her first appearance on the rooftops of Bervenia only exacerbated that belief. Instead, she reacted positively to Mustadio's jokes and showed herself to be a relatively reasonable woman. She explained this away in the succinct manner elite knights were known for: "I intend to live my life happily, even if I've lost everything."

Now, she kept to her word after Mustadio explained to her what he knew. Her eyes were clear as she smiled. "That's very nice. I had no idea you could be such a hero!"

Grinning, the mechanic raised his hands as if he were telling a mass of adoring fans to calm down. "Thank you, thank you. I just do what I have to do, saving beautiful maidens and stuff like that."

"So eloquent," she sighed, making a show of placing one golden hand against her forehead, a swooning, immaculately hooded female knight. "It's too bad I'm too much of a woman for you," she added, grinning mischievously as he gaped at her in simulated shock.

"I can't believe you just said that!" Thoughtfully, he touched his chin with one gloved hand, then he turned to face her with a hopeful smile and asked, "Is that a promise?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Of course."

"Oooh, conceited."

"Confident!" she corrected, a slight grin on her face. "It's so sad that men always have to put down a successful woman. It's either that I'm arrogant, or I'm conceited..."

Mustadio raised an eyebrow in interest. "Who said you were arrogant?"

Her smile dropped, yet her tone remained light as she answered, "It doesn't matter anymore."

The subtle change of mood was not lost on him, and he merely nodded and glanced down the narrowing path. It seemed to go on forever, and he was exhausted from both Ramza's relentless march complete with fights, as well as what he had gone through to save Meliadoul. Yet, he couldn't ask for a break, not when his companion had recovered much of her strength by the time she rose from her mourning. He had some pride, after all.

The Divine Knight had her head turned away when Mustadio looked at her again. "You know," she started softly, staring at one of the many crystals illuminating the corridor, "it doesn't feel right to laugh in a place like this."

"I think it's the best time to laugh," he argued with a smile. "Just because this place is all dank and depressing doesn't mean we gotta be. Back at home, when one of the drifts collapses or mechanical reconstructing doesn't go as planned, we joke up it up. It doesn't mean we're happy, just that we can deal with the situation and move on."

"That's very strange, but I think I can understand. As a knight, I've been taught to suppress my emotions while in the middle of a battle, or while dealing with a sensitive situation." She looked down the path. "That's how all knights learn to deal with their lives."

"...Well, that doesn't sound healthy," he said with a shrug. In his mind's eye, he could see her back on that rooftop in Bervenia, screaming down at them in righteous anger. "Uh...though, it doesn't seem like you followed that very well or anything."

She nodded. "Perhaps that is the folly of being a woman with enough power to fulfill any dreams of revenge."

"What's that mean, women are naturally more violent or something?" Mustadio asked, having little female contact until he joined up with Ramza. "I mean, I don't really know about anything like that, but you had the right to be angry. Just like Wiegraf was all pissed off back at Orbonne..." he trailed off at his memory's insistence to review the moment once again. "Well, actually, he didn't seem that angry. He was just out there on all sorts of things."

"Oh, he had been furious," she clarified. "You did kill his sister, after all."

"I didn't kill his sister." The engineer stared at her, a frown creasing his youthful face. "I didn't even know the guy until he showed up and he and Ramza began sniping at each other."

Meliadoul glanced at him, and she looked more tired than he had realized. "Right, I see. It's still somewhat hard for me to separate what Ramza has done with the rest of the members of his group, including myself. Whether you want to admit it or not, he has committed a lot of acts that are reprehensible to the nation at large, and that we follow him anyway says a lot about ourselves."

"Yeah, that we can see past the illusions and get to the real nuts and bolts of the issue," he replied. "But I get what you're saying. I only joined him to repay his favor and the princess' graciousness, and the next thing I know, I'm fighting some pudgy, bald guy who used to be the cardinal... 'course, to say it that way, he doesn't sound like he was all that different from the way he was before." Mustadio grinned, and after a moment Meliadoul allowed a small, uncomfortable smile to appear. "See, but I don't regret anything I've done, because while it's been pretty rough, maybe it could've been worse because I wasn't there to help. Maybe Ramza and Aggie would've been outnumbered and overpowered during the early parts, and then what would've happened to Ivalice? At the very least, I'm the only one who can go into this place and help you guys."

"That's a very good way of thinking," Meliadoul complimented, "it works very well for you. I think I would like a frame of mind like that. It goes along with one of the Church teachings: 'And ye should not let adversity overcome, for each of us knows the grace of God'."

The corners of his lips quirked up in an automatic smile even though he disagreed with her last statement; being a native of the Lionel region, Church rhetoric was nothing new to him. "Yeah, I guess. All you gotta do is keep on smiling."

-0-

Not long after they began to walk did the floor start to gracefully curve downward and the walls narrowed to the point where the two were forced to walk in a single file line. There were still crystalized essences in abundance to light their way, though lately they had been forced to step over the hovering souls. It would've been so much easier to simply absorb them, using the quintessences to heal Meliadoul's injuries and replenish Mustadio's energy, but they balked at this. Who knew how long these crystals had hovered in the narrow passages of this corridor, spinning silently over the remains of their flesh and bone cages? Who knew what sort of people these souls had belonged to? They could've been saints with essences like the life-giving embrace of a white mage, or villains with souls that scorched the psyche like concentrated acid.

It wasn't worth it to find out. Not when there were still two more friends to fight, and maybe save.

Mustadio took a deep breath. No, they were definitely going to be saved. Everything would work out in the end. He would make sure of that!

"This is very annoying," he could hear Meliadoul mutter as he carefully stepped over another crystal. Turning around, he watched her as she hiked up the skirt of her dress to dangerously unfeminine levels, her golden greaves shining in the light as she raised one leg over the essence. Quickly, she jumped over it before she released her skirt, shaking her head in irritation.

"Well, at least you can move your legs enough to make that jump," Mustadio muttered, his tone rough. Anger, violent and sudden like a summer squall, thrashed within him.

His father couldn't do that. Not anymore. Never again.

He could hear a heavy drone in the distance, inside his mind, invasive and ugly and why was he feeling this way when his father had always been using a cane, always a little stooped over, always...

Really?

"What are you talking about?" The Divine Knight's voice cut into the miasma of thoughts that were gunking up his mind. Suddenly, it was as if nothing had ever happened, his mind once again bright and sunny and his. "You have those durable pants. I'd say you have more mobility than I do," she insisted, her mouth twisted up in what one would call a pout if it were on anyone else.

He smiled disarmingly, more to comfort himself than to soothe her. "Yeah, but I mean, there's no way Worker 8 would've made that jump. Hell, I don't even think he'd be able to fit in this hall. And, uh, Reis has more skirts and stuff than you do."

Meliadoul smirked. "Though, I would suppose that she could always just be carried over."

"Huh? By who? Me?" The engineer scratched the back of his head. "Um, but Beo wouldn't like that, I'd think."

Sighing loudly, the lady knight's response was to pinch the bridge of her nose with two golden fingers. "Not you," she mumbled. Then she jerked her head to glare at the continuing path, a frown marring her attractive features. "We're close to someone."

"Um, who?" Mustadio stared hard in the same direction, but all he could see were the crystals. "Wait, how can you tell?"

"How can I put this...it feels oppressive. That evil spirit is clouding over the area." She looked away and took a deep breath. "It's that feeling, oily and sticky and..."

"Are you okay?" he asked when she wouldn't continue.

"I'm fine. I just...I fell for that image of Izlude because I wanted to believe, even though it felt this way. It's a complete disgrace to my brother's memory." She smiled, a tight grimace. "But I can see through the illusion now. I still have my faith, and that will see me through. I can do this!"

"Alright Melly!" he cheered, clapping his hands, the sound muffled with the thickness of his work gloves. "Well, let's get to it!" Turning away, he was about to start down the path when she clamped a hand on his shoulder.

"We're not going to just march in there without a plan of some kind, are we?"

"...Um, yeah?"

"Oh." Her expression was one of bemusement when he turned to face her again. "That seems reckless."

He couldn't argue with that. "Really? I mean, that's how I helped you. I'm just running on instincts right now."

"Alright." Releasing him, she nodded in compliance. "There really isn't much you can plan in a completely unfamiliar environment like this one."

As they continued down the slope, studiously avoiding the crystals that hovered before them, an odd feeling began to slosh about in Mustadio's stomach. Meliadoul's warning aside, he wasn't looking forward to another battle with a friend. It sickened him to have to point his gun at his friends, and what was more bothersome was knowing that they were being manipulated, used, and ultimately discarded as shields for the entity that controlled them. What was the point, he wondered, is there even a point? Why would this thing go to such lengths in the first place?

He wasn't sure he wanted to know. At this point, all he wanted to do was to collect his friends and get the hell out while he still could.

Like the sand dunes of Zeklaus Desert, the slope transistioned onto flat ground with a smoothness that would make the most dedicated mediators jealous. Soon the walls of the corridor began to spread apart, allowing the mechanic and the knight to no longer have to stretch their ligaments out of place just to avoid the essences. It was the width of the entrance to the corridor once again, and Mustadio briefly wondered how Reis was doing. He would've liked to take Meliadoul to the dragoner, but he knew better than to try once he had told the lady knight about what was going on. She didn't remember how she had come to arrive in this place, only that she had heard Izlude call for her. Privately, Mustadio knew that having the pious knight by him might be useful in exorcising that malevolent spirit from their friends.

Besides, he didn't like being alone. He noticed things when he was alone.

The hallway widened to the same proportions it had when he had found Meliadoul, but this time he didn't notice. He was staring straight ahead, his eyes wide in shock as he took in the sight before him. Something heavy was on his shoulder, and he could hear Meliadoul whisper what was probably the beginning of a question, but then she fell silent as well.

Agrias was in front of them, facing them, and yet she failed to notice them. Instead, she was holding her sword, a Defender stolen from Meliadoul at Bervenia, swinging it in methodical strokes in front of her. The dull yellow blade gleamed in the light of the dead as she swung it in a basic downward cleave. Her movements were as mechanical and stiff as Worker 8's, yet Mustadio believed that the robotic relic had more bounce in its steps than the Holy Knight did at the moment. Right leg forward, swing, right leg back, inhale, exhale, repeat. That didn't really bother him, though.

It was who she was with that did.

On either side of the royal knight was a regular female knight, both comprised with the same slate-blue smoke that had formed the image of Izlude. As he took in their features something heavy plummeted into Mustadio's stomach, a feeling quite dissimilar to how he had felt when he had seen the specter imitate Izlude. The Knight Blade had been little more than a one-time opponent to him.

Alicia and Lavian had been friends.

They appeared to be twins here, nothing more than wisps of smoke forming a simulacrum of their earthly bodies. There was no way to create the exact shade of Lavian's flame-red hair, just as bright and unquenchable as her lively spirit, or to contrast it with Alicia's ice-blond locks, striking for such a mellow girl. But he could remember them, the color of their hair, and how hospitable they had been to him when he had first joined the group headed to Lionel Castle. In a group where the princess was untouchable, her primary bodyguard suspicious, and the only other male of the group distant, Alicia and Lavian were welcome distractions at a time when all he could do was worry about his father and curse the holy stone that he held.

They had become fast friends, these two lady knights and the engineer, as the party traveled from Zaland to Bariaus Hill, Bariaus Hill to Lionel Castle. Topics from their hometowns to favorite meals to places they had wanted to travel to were discussed in heavy and loud detail to the annoyance of Agrias, who had been shamed to see her knights so lax with someone she didn't have cause to trust. Three days, and he had been truly saddened when the two women were duty bound to stay with their commanding officer and the princess. He had hoped to see them again soon.

But only Agrias had successfully escaped from the cardinal's grasp, and only the princess had been considered useful to the Church.

Mustadio had mourned them, the two knights who were all but forgotten as the stakes increased with the appearance of Lucavi and the war, with the deaths of the country's leaders, with Ramza's sister having been stolen away. He had never forgotten, and now he could see he wasn't the only one. But as he and Meliadoul continued to watch Agrias train, the situation appeared to be very different from Meliadoul's.

"One hundred and twenty-six. Say, Lavi, do you think that Lady Agrias will improve enough at this speed?" That the specter that imitated Alicia had same high, airy voice of the real Alicia made Mustadio frown in disapproval.

"I'm not too sure. One hundred and twenty-seven. It seems unlikely, really. I would've thought that Lady Agrias would've been so incredible by now, but I guess I was wrong." Lavian's image murmured, her tone moderate. The real Lavian had all but worshipped the ground Agrias walked on, and to hear this condemnation disgusted him.

"One hundred and...whoops, Lady Agrias, you should've raised the sword higher," the Alicia-specter giggled. Dully, Agrias followed its advice. "I remember when she would've screamed at us for not executing each swing to perfection, and then she'd assign another hundred strokes. Maybe we should do that to her. She deserves it." The curls of smoke that formed the lady knight's face scrunched in a scowl, giving it the appearance of an angry uribo.

"Yeah, she was always such a bitch," Lavian's image giggled behind its hand, an effect that would've had some meaning had it not been little more than wispy lines glowing in the culmination of the lives of the fallen. "Always acting as if - one hundred and twenty-eight - she was so much better than the rest of us."

"God, I know!" Striding right up into the Holy Knight's personal space, 'Alicia' leaned forward, its lips seductively close to an exposed ear. "But you're no better than the rest of us. You ran away."

'Lavian' did the same to Agrias' other ear, wrapping an immaterial arm around her waist as it did so. "So brave, aren't you? After all you told us. Don't you remember? 'The princess is worth more than our lives.' 'If we don't protect the princess, we're nothing more than failures.'" Ghostly, glowing lips trailed over the cartilage of the ear. "Who's the failure now, Lady Agrias?"

"You left us to die. But no, they wouldn't even let us die quickly. Did you ever think about that, Lady Agrias? Did you even care?"

"We didn't even get a proper burial. They threw our bodies into heavy sacks and dumped us into the sea like we were vagrants. We had families, Lady Agrias. People who would've mourned us."

"But no, Lady Agrias can't die the same way. She can't have her blessed remains disposed of in the same way. She's so special that she can shirk her duty, her honor just so she can keep living."

And finally, their voices melded together for the last comment, "You abandoned the princess when she needed you most."

Slowly, Agrias' lips parted. "Keep counting," she whispered, a plea from the hardened Holy Knight.

"Why? You'll never be strong enough to do anything," the specter that mimicked Alicia snapped.

"I'm..." Agrias wet her lips. "I'm going to rescue the princess."

Harsh barks of laughter greeted her words, cruel and mocking. Like a statue, Agrias took it, though Mustadio thought he could see a trace of sadness deep within her brown eyes. The slick sound of a sword being drawn caught his attention, and when he glanced beside him he saw Meliadoul with the naked blade of her Save the Queen exposed and glowing ethereal from the light of nearby crystals. He wasn't sure whether to cheer her on, or stop her from making the situation worse.

"Please, you honestly think you can save anyone? A hopeless heap of flesh like you?" 'Lavian' thrust its head forward through Agrias' head and chest, the smoke obscuring much of the Holy Knight's face while at the same time leaving 'Lavian's' facial features still discernible. "Hey Ali, did I just hear that wrong? After all, being dead's done horrible things with my hearing as well as my complexion!"

"Nope, sorry Lavi. She's just an idiot. But, I guess we can help her, like she never helped us."

"I guess..." Sighing dramatically, the specter that resembled Lavian pulled out and away from Agrias. "You want to be strong, Lady Agrias? Trust me, it doesn't come from waving your sword around like some drunk knight at a brothel. You have to fight real, breathing opponents."

"I mean, really. This is basic stuff, you know?" 'Alicia' followed 'Lavian's' move, floating some distance away from the elite knight while gesturing majestically towards Mustadio and Meliadoul. "And look, here's your test! Those people you ditched the princess for, of all things. I guess you'll just go back on your word and follow them around just like before."

Agrias shook her head once. "No. I promised. I'll be stronger to save her."

"That's cute. Keep pretending that duty actually means something to you. Maybe one day it'll actually be true." The form of Alicia began to disperse, drifting above the lady knight as a cloud of smoke. Lavian's image followed the other's lead, the two clouds merging into one, which then proceeded to fly deeper into the corridor.

"Why are they leaving her alone?" Meliadoul muttered. Mustadio could only shake his head, revulsion at seeing his friends used in such a manner bubbling up inside him.

"Who knows," he whispered back before he took a few steps forward, his eyes solely on Agrias' still form. "Hey, Aggie. How're you feeling?" His voice and demeanor were non threatening - though he really couldn't be threatening if he tried - and he held his hands up to show that he came in peace. "We're here to get you away from this place."

"Why? Did you think that I couldn't do it on my own?" The Holy Knight's voice was cold, much colder than usual, and she stared at the engineer with dull eyes. "You don't think I'm strong enough?"

"Hey, I'm the last person who thinks that. I've seen you fight. But hey, we're friends, right? Friends help each other, right?"

Something in Agrias' expression splintered and she raised her sword, the tip leveled at his head even though he was a safe distance away. "I don't need friends."

"Hn. She seems fine to me," Meliadoul muttered, a little louder than before.

Mustadio pursed his lips at this. He'd forgotten that the two elite knights didn't get along. "Melly, shh," he chided quietly before he turned his attention to Agrias once more. "Alright then, so you don't need friends. That's fine, whatever you like. So, what do you need?"

Determination blanketed the delicate structure of the Holy Knight's face as she stared at him. "I need to save the princess from all those who would use her."

"But she's in Zeltennia," he blurted out. "Ramza told us she'd be safe with Delita."

"She'll be used by Delita!" Agrias raged, her voice a few octaves louder. This worried the mechanic, who knew from personal experience that she became quieter when she was angry, not louder. "I've got to become stronger to save her!"

"Oh, I see. And where will you go after that?" Meliadoul asked, taking a step forward. The light from a nearby crystal glimmered along the edge of the knight sword she currently carried parallel to her right leg. "If you kidnap the princess, you'll never be able to stay in Ivalice."

"I could not care less."

Glancing beside him, Mustadio noticed that Meliadoul seemed ill at ease. Then, as if she knew he was watching her, she turned her head away slightly, the side of her hood hiding her face. "Of course you care," the Divine Knight urged, "because while you're a cold person, you're not soulless. How about your family? Family is very important, I would think."

"And you would be wrong. My family no longer means anything to me."

Something of a hiss touched the mechanic's hearing as Meliadoul sucked in a breath suddenly, as if she'd been punched in the gut. His natural optimism for the best of any situation sunk as the former Shrine Knight adjusted her grip on the hilt of her sword. "You should be grateful you still have a family," she ground out, "when so many others have lost theirs."

"It is a distraction," Agrias said hollowly. "If I can't use them to become stronger, then they're useless to me."

"You-!" Taking another step forward, Meliadoul held her sword ready. "'Use'? You're just as horrible as all the schemers who want Ivalice for themselves!"

"I don't care about Ivalice."

"How dare you. My brother's dream was to save Ivalice!"

"And look at how he ended up."

With an inarticulate cry, the Divine Knight dove towards Agrias like a steel hawk before Mustadio could act. Fluidly, the Holy Knight dodged from the first cleaving strike, then brandished her sword. Chunky blue blocks with the same bleak luminescence as the essences crashed down onto Meliadoul, instantly stopping her in mid-swing. Agrias did not admire her handiwork, only walking around the frozen woman so that she could face Mustadio.

For his part, he was surprised and confused. Should he attack her? Was she under the influence of the spirit that haunted this place, or was she working solely under her own power? If it was the former he was more willing to fight her, but if it was the latter... "Aggie? This isn't what you want to do - "

"Do not presume to tell me what I want," she interrupted, her inflection flat. "This is the only thing I can do."

"Why?" he demanded, his hand inching towards his holster.

"Because everything pales in comparison with my duty towards the princess." The answer was matter-of-fact, her tone sardonic as usual. "Perhaps you would understand, since you had to employ certain unethical methods to rescue your father."

The logic confused him. "So I didn't tell you guys about the stone or anything when I joined up. That's not unethical, just kinda impolite. You're talking about killing us!"

"True," she condescended. Then, her expression softened. "Goodbye Mustadio, Meliadoul. You were both useful allies and I truly appreciate that. However, if over your dead bodies I can become strong enough to save the princess, then it is a sacrifice I am willing to make."

"Aggie, stop it! I don't want to fight!" he yelled, his hand on his gun. Yet, he made no move to free it from its holster, hoping against every realistic probability that this friend would free herself or come to her senses or whatever it took to stave off the inevitable fight.

She only blinked, one eyebrow arched up in beautiful disdain. "I don't recall giving you a choice." Brandishing her sword once more, she sent a wave of golden-orange energy racing towards him. Unlike Meliadoul's sword skills, Agrias' skills were weaker but all but impossible to dodge, as Mustadio found out when he attempted to jump out of the Holy Explosion's way. The fiery-colored energy pummeled into his left side, eliciting a cry of pain from him as he stumbled back. His vision became blurry as he fought against the dizziness that beat against his mind in relentless waves. After he closed his eyes and counted to ten he felt less confused.

But when he opened his eyes, she was right in front of him.

Inside the hilt of the Defender was a large gem imbued with protective powers. Along with the wideness of the blade, it served to give the sword rightful claim to its name as a sword that protects. Although that gem's main purpose was magical in nature, Mustadio found out the hard way that it also hurt like a bitch to have that, along with the hilt, slammed into his face. He jerked back, nauseous from the thick waves of agony rolling through him, and saw that she was preparing another attack. Due to the general heaviness of knight swords and her own lack of training with them, Agrias' already ponderous way of attacking was hindered even further, giving Mustadio enough time to implement something of his own.

He ran away.

I don't want to attack her I don't want to attack her she's my friend dammit dammit dammit! As he cursed to himself, a glance back showed him that she was about to send another Holy Explosion hurtling towards him. A glance forward showed him that he was about to hit the wall. Another glance back revealed that the flickering, flame-colored energy was blazing towards him, nipping at his heels. And then there was the wall.

I haven't done this since I was a kid. C'mon...

He jumped, twisting his legs up so that he could rebound off the wall. It used to annoy the men who worked the drifts when he did this as an energetic child, and after a while he had grown out of it. Now, he reached out to his inner child - which wasn't all that inner - and bounced off of the wall, stretching his body up as much as possible to avoid the energy that, even now, slammed into the wall and seemed to actually spark upward in a vain attempt to reach him.

Having not done this in over a decade, his body protested at his attempt at flexibility and his left side howled in response. He fell like a rock and grunted as his body collided with the hard rock ground, right against the side he had just sprained. Dazed, he could only roll onto his back and grab his side. That was how he saw the light yellow blade of the Defender as it plunged towards his face. Twisting away at the last second, the ensuing clash of steel on rock shocked him into acting. He sprang up like a frog on haste, yanking out his gun as he spun around, and caught Agrias unawares as he pressed the muzzle against her left temple.

More than just his side hurt now.

The Defender clattered noisily against the ground as it slipped from Agrias' hands. "So, I can't even defeat a mechanic. After all the intensive training I undertook, after earning the right to become an elite knight...and this is what it comes down to." She twisted her head so that she could look him in the eye as she whispered, "Just kill me."

Disgust and grief intertwined and twisted in the pit of his stomach when he heard her request. "I'm not going to kill anyone!" he yelled, twisting his face away so that he didn't have to look at her pleading gaze. Instead he stared at the thick braid she habitually wore, a picture of elegance.

"But it's not worth it to live. Not if I've lost to you," she muttered.

Geez, I'm not that bad. Didn't realize I was so underestimated. He sighed. "I'm not going to kill anyone if I don't have to. That's just how I am. What's with all you knights thinking that death is gonna bring about peace and goodwill, anyway?"

"You can't understand," she answered in a haughty tone. "Duty is everything. If I fail in my duty, then I have disgraced myself. To kill is just a means in which I complete my duties."

"That's really sick," Mustadio stated, surprised at how repelled he was by her words. Certainly he could understand, but did that make it right? Was this truly Agrias' belief?

"That is the truth of the world. It is what I've learned throughout our journey. All this time, and I still have not gotten any closer to saving the princess, my ultimate duty."

"But we've been saving Ivalice all this time. Remember Lucavi? They're kinda important too, y'know."

"It's merely a side quest."

He paused, a frown crossing his face at the things he was learning now. A twinge from his injured side made him wince, but he tried to suppress it and continue the dialog. "So nothing really matters next to the princess, that's what you're saying?"

"Of course."

For a long moment, he said nothing. Of course, everyone had their own reasons for joining Ramza's party. Most of them wanted to repay the young Beoulve for his unconditional kindness, like himself. Only a couple were selfish, such as Meliadoul's need to find out the truth behind the zodiac stones she had thought were holy. And then there was Agrias.

The only reason why she had joined with them was to save the princess. No other.

Confronted with this, the essential Agrias, he couldn't help but feel depressed. All those times he had been friendly to her, tried to joke with her and bring her out of her shell, and now he realized that none of it had mattered to her. That hurt. Still, he tried to forge on. Even if he wasn't her friend, she was his. "Okay, sure. I understand that it's the most important thing to you. That's fine. But, uh...um, the way you're trying to be strong just isn't right."

Her voice was sharp as she asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you're talking about physical strength, right? Like, how many people you can slice through and stuff when you go to save the princess? But to say that, you're thinking that death is a strength, and that's not true."

"Explain."

"Sure. Well, I hate to use this as an example, but right now all I have to do is convert a little effort towards my left index finger and you'll be dead." Noticing her narrow her eyes in response, he mentally winced. "Sorry. It's not like I'm going to or anything, I'm just saying. But, just to expend that energy and stuff can't really be considered 'strength' because all I've insured is that you'll be gone and I would've lost my friend.

"Don't get me wrong, I understand that choosing not to kill's a luxury these days. And I totally see why you want to become stronger. But is slaughtering us a proof of your strength? If I had shot you without even trying to go down the harder path of talking to you, would you consider that strength?"

After an intake of air, Agrias looked away from him. "Then, what is strength?"

"Maybe it's letting go," he suggested, earning an icy glare. "Woah, never mind that then. But seriously, I don't think it's obvious physical power. I mean, Melly's greatest strength isn't that she can smack things really hard, but her unwavering faith. And of course, Ramza fights to help others. You know, 'cause he cares so much."

"And yourself?"

Mustadio blinked in surprise. Slowly, a smile broke out across his face. "I don't really know. I mean, it's not something I've thought about. But, um, I guess I like to think that I'm good at understanding both people and machines." He studied her for a long moment, taking in the beauty of her features as all the harshness left her face.

And, with a smile on his face, the mechanic lowered his gun from Agrias' head.

She studied him, her lips twitching in disapproval. Slowly, she bent down and retrieved her sword. "That's a huge risk you just took," she murmured, glancing away from him to focus on the sheen of her sword.

"Well, if I can't take risks on my friends, then what does that say about what I think they're worth?" Mustadio grinned, but he dropped it when the Holy Knight swung her sword so that the point of it passed just under his chin.

"You're a fool," she stated, just before she withdrew and sheathed her sword.

Chuckling nervously, he turned away and walked towards Meliadoul. While he had been talking to Agrias, the Divine Knight had slowly been released from the effect of the Stasis Sword skill until she was freed. Now she ignored everything in favor of rubbing some life in her still stiff limbs. "Hey Melly," he greeted.

"You're trusting her?" she whispered harshly, deliberately looking away from him. Mustadio could only grin.

"I'm a trusting kind of guy."

"Otherwise known as a fool." Gingerly, she stood, waving him away when he tried to help her. "Sir Orlandu's the last one left, right? Let's go."

"Sure." He turned back, where Agrias stood silently, her gaze fixed to some spot on the ground. "Aggie, we've got to get Cid and then we're outta here."

" 'Agrias'," the Holy Knight corrected. She strode to the other two, an elite knight on either side of the engineer, and they all continued into the depths of the corridor.

Even after they left, the haunting glow of the discarded souls lit the place of the second battle. As they spun, something glinted on the ground, in the spot where Agrias' attention had been riveted to.

It was a silver chain with the Glabadosian circle of faith.

-End to Chapter Two-

Dun dun dun... Well, I can't say I felt this chapter as much as the last one, mainly because I'm not familiar with, nor do I like, writing Agrias. Of course, suggestions, questions and comments are always welcome. The better I write, the more entertained you are!

Reviewers!

Viktor Mayin, I remember you. I'm glad you're liking the story. And since you said please, I'll be more than happy to accommodate you. :)

Yo, TobyKikami. I...can't seem to find anything to respond to, but I'm glad you're liking the story.

Hey Evil Mina. I'm really, really happy you're liking this version of Mustadio. Initially, I didn't really care about Mustadio as well, but I was charmed by his game portrait - smirk and all! Plus, his house has great music. Something about those two things made me think that he was a very well-adjusted guy, so that's how I try to portray him. And you would like the 'unlikely hero' motif, I've seen you defend Delita. :)
Actually - and this is hard to admit - but angst is my default when it comes to writing. And romance and action/adventure are supposed to be the hardest for me to write. Well, those and humor/parody, which is why I can definitely respect your work. Heh, I'm a little jealous.
If my stories can make you think enough to want to write out such nicely detailed reviews, then I'm doing my job. As for Orlandu...heh.
Finally, regarding your P.P.S.: Hey, you're not the only one putting off anything to do with UFC. Reviews, like stories, only mean anything when they're written from the heart.

Hello, gleenthefrog! Happy to see you liked the chapter. As for Reis...heh.

Yo, Trueborn Chaos. Since we're both stubborn Taureans, I'll just say that you have a good point about Ramza ordering Worker 8 to follow Mustadio's orders, but...yeah, you're right, this is my story. :) Seriously though, there's a plot reason why Worker 8 must stay with the others.
Yeah, Beowulf has the second lowest Brave out of all the specials at 45. Reis is a whole lot braver than he is.
Aw, I like page fillers.
Agrias gave me a lot of trouble. Bah. Anyway, this story is supposed to have eight parts altogether. So, if all goes well I'll be back to UFC on May tenth.

Chapter 3: Pariah: "So, what you're saying is that there's this huge chance that the former commander of the Nanten, the Thundergod Cid himself, the guy who knows at least ten different ways to kill a man is probably possessed by now. Right?

"Woo, this is gonna be fun."