This story belongs to me and my creative mind. However, many of the characters, names, and places all belong to their respective companies, so don't yell at me for copyright infringements! Remember, Italics represent a person's thoughts or the telling of past events.
Enjoy...
:A Moment of Discord:
Part Two: No Shelter
"So, in order to facilitate better relations between myself and your family, do I bid you welcome to my manor in Lindblum upon the thirtieth of the month. I shall be expecting you all, not for the matter of discussing business, but to enjoy one another's company in good times and in good health. Sincerely yours, Gordan Fulmen."
A flourish of a signature, and the letter was complete. He folded it twice, sealed it with wax, and marked it with the sigil of his family name, a mechanics wrench and a bird feather. This, the sign of the strongest privately owned Airship business, would draw the attention of anyone who saw it. Gordan hoped, deeply, that they would come and give him a chance to make amends for the wrongs he did them.
"Kurin, I hope that you will get this to the Listers in the greatest of haste?" He asked his moogle attendant.
The critter, all fur, wings, and pink bobble on its head, nodded while accepting the note. "I'll get there as quick as I can. My wings aren't that bad!"
"You are still old for a moogle, are you not? Seventeen years of service, if I recall. Many do not live past a dozen."
"That's something I don't like to think about, kupo."
"Understandable, my friend." He smiled. "Good fortune on your trip."
"I'll give Artemeticon a run for his record, I will! Kupo!" Kurin declared, and with a flip and flutter of wings, sped out of an open window and into the skies of Lindblum's evening traffic.
Gordan exhaled on a calm note, always eased of his worries by the ever optimistic attitude of the moogle. Ever since he had acquired the seat of power for the Lindblum section of Gestahl Industries, he has been stuck in a mire of troubles. He no longer had the luxury to assume that everything would work out all right. Now he had to make doubly sure that all plans were secure, that all customers were satisfied, and that all people in relation to the business were willing to cooperate with his actions. Incidents such as the problem with Fray Lister were the bane of his labors.
'I know that Fray is not the type to keep a grudge. Hopefully a sign of good faith will turn him back.'
He looked at his desk, the solid oak frame covered with so much paper that you couldn't see the surface. He knew that there was much to be done, as there always was. However, he had plans for this night, and work wouldn't keep him from them. She came before work, ever and always.
'Sometimes I still cannot believe that we have come together like this, her and I. She was such a firebrand when we met, a cold and steely rebel who sought to earn herself a living for herself and sister. Then came our short time with Fedrich and the Festival, and everything changed. Her brother's wrath, my uncles assassin, the Alexandrine conquest and the end of days. How many bonds have we forged in the heat of our history?'
Standing, he smoothed his pants down and left his office for his bedchambers. He passed across the length of the manor, passing over the greatroom and by numerous guest quarters. A quick stop in his bedchambers to discard simple clothes with something more formal, and he was ready. Passing through numerous halls and up several flights of stairs, he passed through a narrow doorway and onto the rooftop courtyard of his manor.
"Illis!" He called out.
Hearing his voice, she stood from her place in the grass and turned to face him. In a modest summer dress and soft velvet shoes, not one person would suspect that four years ago this woman was a warrior outclassed by few in the continent. Only he could appreciate how much she had changed. Her hands were smooth rather than callused, her frame gentle instead of tough with muscles. Upon their nuptials, she had foresworn the sword and instead taken up the rule of motherhood.
And what a mother she was.
"Ah, I see you remembered that you're married!" She laughed, approaching.
"You know I remember, my heart, but my employers and associates do not." He swept her up in a tight embrace, kissing her lips briefly. Immediately two pairs of hands began tugging on his pants, and he looked down to their owners.
'My children...' He never gave up the wonder and shock of surprise that he was a father. Of all the things he was in life, a father was something he never thought of. When Illis became pregnant, he showed little concern for what it meant. Only after the midwives allowed him into their bedroom did it strike him. This little baby, a fragile pink body, was his son. Not but a year later did he have yet another child, and again he was stunned at the wonder of what they had created.
"Alvard and Leon!" He smiled, stooping to grip his sons as well. "How are my little hawks?"
"Daddy, I caught a grasshopper and it got away!" Leon boasted.
"Did not!" Alvard disagreed, pointing to the bushes near the edge of the yard. "I found it! It was over there."
"I found it!" The other cried loudly.
"Do not argue, now." Gordan insisted, standing. "Were you both good today like you promised?"
At this they agreed, nodding vigorously. He looked to his wife, and she smiled knowingly. Children were children, and being good was always a difficult thing to label. They had to have been better than normal, since Illis wasn't angry and neither were the two. He looked at them, seeing that they were hanging on his next words.
"Were they good enough, Illis?"
"I dunno..." She mused, grinning wickedly.
"I was! I was, really!" Alvard barked. "I didn't chase the kitties today! I petted them and called them good kitties like you told me to!"
"Okay." Gordan chuckled. "I believe you."
"So can we go?" Leon pressed, eyes wide as saucers.
"Yes we can."
Both boys squealed with joy, hugging their father's legs before running for the doors to the Airship dock.
"Slow down, you two!" Illis called after them in a futile gesture.
Gordan put an arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. "How are things today?"
"The same as ever." She leaned into his body. "They run me ragged. Give them a tiny grain of sugar and nothing stops them except the promise of more sugar."
"At least they didn't torture the cats today."
"Leon tried to pull their tails, but Alvard just scared them away. I guess that counts as being nice, although I don't know where he gets off saying he called them nice kitties."
"It matters little."
"At least they behave whenever you put a chance to travel on the Blackjack on the line. I swear those two were born to fly but weren't given wings. Nothing ever gets them as excited as that."
"Agreed." Gordan was certain it was his blood that made the two so fidgety. They liked the skies so much that it took strong arms to drag them inside each night, and plenty of time to convince them to sleep in their beds. Gordan no longer needed mechanical alarm to wake him each morning, both boys woke at the crack of dawn and leapt on him until he gave them permission to go outside. Their doctors agreed that if they had wings they would fly away and never be seen on land again.
"It's good for them, though. They'll be hale and healthy in the free air instead of being cramped up in a dusty house."
"They have privileged lives, Illis, and will be better off than most children in the city. Here they enjoy the open skies beyond the walls, whereas everyone below gets a fraction of that. I know that they will make full use of their gifts."
"I hope so."
Husband and wife opened the door to the docks, and the boys flew down the steps in a mad rush to get there first. Illis chuckled and hurried after them while Gordan took his time. He had set aside an extra two hours to board the Diamond Blackjack, the icon Airship of the Gestahl Industries, to have a dinner overlooking the Mist Continent and the southern islands. Afterwards they had a meeting to attend in Kohlingen to talk with the Highguard family of a potential business deal. Rumors of unrest among the nobles aside, he still felt something queer about the sudden interests in a large-scale Airship for a single family. Most were happy with Mortani or even Clipper classes, yet they wished to talk about a completely custom made craft. It was a great chance to earn revenue, but still bid hundreds of unspoken questions.
Out of his thoughts, he passed under the archway to the grounds of the dock, wife and children already ascending the gangplank to the interior of the Airship. Gordan hurried inside, passing his thanks to the workers before helping to raise the plank and seal the doorway. Illis waited for him by the tables of the betting lounge.
"So what's for dinner?" She asked.
"Nothing entirely fancy, just breaded fish with soup and salad, plus the usual."
"What about iced cream?" Alvard asked.
"Not today."
Alvard frowned and sulked. Both children had taken a liking to the new treat, a sweet mixture of milk, vanilla, sugar, and ice all ground to a smooth blend. Of course, as is with all things sugary, it made them unruly and hyperactive for hours on end. The Airship lurched, the dull while of the engines becoming audible from the back.
"Come on, let's say goodbye to the city!" Illis took her children to the glass wall, the Airship gaining elevation as the engines warmed up to flight speed. "Goodbye, house!"
"Bye bye!" Her sons replied, waving to the stone and mortar manor.
"Goodbye street!" Illis continued as the Airship began to accelerate forward, now almost level with the walls of the Grand Castle. The edge of the walls near their house had a gaping hole in it, a remembrance from the innumerable deaths caused by Alexandria and it's mad quest to dominate the continent and the world. Luckily their manor wasn't in that zone of destruction, but it still suffered a lot of exterior damage. The Blackjack itself had to be grounded twice for repairs to the hull and then to replace the engines. As they continued to gain altitude, the city became smaller and smaller until it looked like a children's model on a store shelf. Illis waved one last time along with her boys. "Goodbye, Lindblum!"
"Bye bye, Linbum!" They said together before breaking away and going to play on the tables.
Illis stood and smoothed her dress, watching as the city faded away into the fog of distance and the land below dropped away from the plateau. Gordan stepped up next to her, putting at arm at her waist and holding her close. They watched as the city disappeared completely, leaving the modern and crowded thousands within those walls. Gordan felt a sense of fleeing civilization take hold, knowing that no other city on Gaia was as large or populated as his own. Everywhere else was smaller, simpler and down to earth. Kohlingen was literally a town built around a grand manor, sporting few of the luxuries he was used to.
"Do you ever get lonely whenever you leave Lindblum?" Illis asked suddenly, looking at him with her deep brown eyes.
"In a way I do, but only because I miss the things we have that others do not." He buried his head into her red black hair, smelling her body and her essence. "So long as I have you and our sons, then I will never feel truly lonely."
> > >
The sun was holding just over the horizon, the skies stained red and orange in the prelude to twilight and nightfall. The Highguard manor, a massive building almost worthy of the title castle, looked unearthly and bloody as the sun shone across its stone walls. In the rear courtyards, in six lines and twenty abreast, stood the best men from the Nanten militia that protected it. Dressed in full battle attire, weapons sheathed at their hips and helmet visors flipped down, they stood still as statues. Pacing before them, in pants, blouse, and bleached white travelers cloak, was their Captain. She stared at them as she walked the lines, silent and sinister.
They hadn't moved in nearly two hours.
Flaure didn't grin or even make a gesture that indicated her feelings. She merely walked, threading between the lines and staring at her soldiers as they sweltered in the sun. It was the best test of obedience and endurance, she found. A man must be incredibly loyal to stand in the sun for hours without moving or command. He would also have to be strong and lasting to merely keep on his feet with thirty pounds of metal added to their bodies. Only those who were truly fit to be warriors could last this kind of test, and so far, all of them had kept up with the demands.
"You still got 'em here?" A brash voice pierced the silence in the courtyard, coming from door to the kitchens.
Flaure looked to see who it was, not surprised at all to see Desmond Cutler staggering out with a flask in hand. He had a terrible liking to alcohol, and tended to be drunk half the day and unconscious the other. Supposedly he was a master thief and spy, but he didn't seem capable of the stealth to sneak by the dead. She didn't reply to his comment, continuing to inspect the lines.
"Aye, you're an odd one, alright." He stumbled on his feet, almost falling into the lines of knights. "What's the point of making perfectly decent men stand like fuckin' rocks all day?"
Flaure again ignored his statements. She was bound to stay silent as well for this test, and would only speak when giving her men an order. The psychological effects were already ruined with this interruption to the solitude. Her men would be focusing on the drunkard rather than their orders, and that was deadly in the battlefield.
"What'sa matter? You don't feel like talkin' to me, is it? I can tell yer busy, but you could spare me a word?"
She gritted her teeth, wishing the man to go away in search of more booze or a wench to fool with. A shock of warning ran electric down her spine, sixth sense waking with a scream of danger. Her testament to being a Captain at age twenty one, and a woman at that, was her unusual ability to 'feel' the presence of everything around her body. Smoothly, she took her sword in scabbard and spun it behind her. A shriek of metal sounded, and a dagger went spinning into the air to clatter on the ground some feet away. Flaure held the sheath in place, noting a scar in the metal embossing that ran the length of the leather. Her eyes fell on Desmond, the drunk flipping a dagger point over hilt and catching it as easy as a ball.
"All I want is a word, milady Highguard, and that's not much to give, is it?" He appeared inebriated, but his eyes shone through as being dangerously sober.
Flaure pursed her lips, but kept quiet. She collected the fallen dagger and threw it back at the hireling's face. He caught it on the blade with insulting ease, fingers pinning the edge a few centimeters from his nose. Siding it back to his belt, he grimaced and rubbed his bearded face.
"I guess that you nobles are too stinkin' noble to give out yer words. You want money for 'em or something?"
Flaure shook her head.
Desmond growled in defeat. "Gads! You try and hold a conversation with some people, and all you get is trouble fer it!"
He ambled away from the courtyard, heading for the gates and to the town. She hoped he would get into a fight in a bar and get himself killed. If it were up to her, she would torture him by keeping him completely sober for his natural lifetime. Sliding her sword back into the loop in her belt, she resumed her observation of the Nanten soldiers. She was pleased with their actions, however. Even as her life appeared to be in grave danger, none of them moved to help her or to detain the man. They followed their orders exceptionally well.
She went to the front of the ranks, faced her men, and allowed a meager smile to grace her lips. "Dismissed."
The Nanten all saluted, then filed out of the courtyard and the armory outside the manor walls. Flaure breathed a sigh of relief, then made her way to the upper terraces where she knew a chair would be waiting to comfort her stiff legs. Up stairs she went and, when she came to the terrace proper, was disappointed to see her brother sitting in one of the two lounge seats.
"You have an odd way of testing the mettle of our knights, sister." Roy commented.
"It is the best way to make sure they will follow orders and not buckle in a fight, brother." She seethed.
"I suppose it might. Take a seat."
Flaure sat on the opposite chair, uncomfortable even on the padded cushions. Her brother, older than her by a year and born a man, was the real commander of the Nanten army. Despite that they both were Captains, he held the final authority over the orders given to the soldiers. He was weaker, unsuited to leadership, and simply had no commanding aura about him. It was the one insult that made her time at home a struggle to retain civility.
"So you believe them capable of fighting a war?" He asked.
"They performed well enough today. As far as I can tell, they have learned all they can by training alone. Now the only teacher left to them is experience through actual combat. The weak will be weeded out eventually or will learn what it takes to survive in the field of war."
"Why not get rid of them now?"
She glared at him. "Go ahead. You look at them and tell me which among them are weak and which are strong. I've told you many times, only a true battle will determine who is worthy to be in the ranks of the Nanten."
"And our first target?"
"I do not."
Roy folded his hands together. "The Gestahl family."
"So our invitation was just a ruse. I wasn't aware that father would stoop so low as to use trickery to get rid of our enemies. Doesn't he have faith that I can kill him as easily in the battlefield as anywhere else?"
"That isn't the case, sister. Father hopes to talk some sense into Gordan's mind and bring him over to us. He is second to us in terms of financial strength in Lindblum, and would do well to join us. I want an Airship to lead my men with."
"Lindblum's Aerial Divisions would chew you to pieces if you dared risk an attack from the skies. Remember the attack on the mountain tribes during the Mist Wars and the trickery used by Alexandria merely to divert the fleet. No force save another aerial army could stand against those machines."
"I do recall, but father already has a plan to avoid that kind of dilemma."
Flaure arched an eyebrow. "Does he?"
"Oh yes, and it's most clever." Roy smirked.
"Do tell."
"Not yet." He stood and brushed his sleeves off. "Father will let you know when the time is right."
"You're evil for leaving me hanging, you know."
He gave her a smirk. "Oh, I do! I most enjoy being evil, especially to my little sister." He turned and left the terrace, stepping inside and leaving Flaure to fume in solitude.
The Author Speaks!
Well, I've made a choice to insert these little rants of mine into the end of each chapter so I can address any issues or questions that pop up from my fans. I won't get into any debates or arguments, those can be left for emails or talks over anIM session. Thusly, if you've any questions about the story or wish to point out flaws or errors in the plot, feel free to post a review with them. I'll always respond to them in the following chapter or an email if it warrants. Which reminds me, you cantalk withme with msn's IM program, justusemy yahoo email address as the contact. I'm on usually on in the afternoon PCT, so hope you can catch me then.
-J.L.Dexter, glad to see you back for yet another round of storytelling from the grumpy ol' college student. Sorry about not replying to your emails as of late. Life has been busy and burdensome. So typical, eh? If you've still got msn IM, I hope we can get back to chatting again.
-Robshi, to have water from a container pass through a pipe to enter a secondcontainer, you simply need place the water source above the exit of the pipe and gravity will do the rest. Envision a water cistern outside the house collecting water above the washtub witha pipe to let the water out and you'll get the idea. Also, Ulrich wasn't in the previous story, he wasjust a convenient plot-device for this one.