Several important aspects of Lesca's personality manifested themselves almost immediately.
First off, she was a devout follower of Yu Yuna. It was the kind of blind religous fanatacism that Kisrel despised, yet she found it difficult not to like the young, impressionable woman. She had an engaging quality that affected all those around her, as if she wore the world like a cloak and didn't even realize it. When she talked, people genuinely wanted to listen.
On the opposite side of
the river was Brael, who rarely spoke, except words of warning.
Lesca generally ignored
him, but he took care of her every need.
The first day passed quickly, with Lesca talking almost incessantly-about the teachings of Yuna, how much she wanted to see Zanarkand, and so forth.
Kisrel didn't mention the fact that she was from New Zanarkand, especially when she asked Lesca where she was from, and the mysterious girl went very quiet. She would say nothing of what had happened to her to get her on the HighRoad, nor how she had aquired Brael's services.
No fiends attacked, though Brael seemed on constant guard. No marauders came, although now Kisrel felt she was ready to take some on. In fact, the total lack of action or events was beginning to grate on her nerves.
Which is why she should have seen it coming...
It was a Rukh. A huge creature, with a gray hide and a vicious attitude. It's biggest asset was its ability to turn its victims into stone. And it hadn't eaten in days...
"Get back!" Brael ordered, brandishing his huge red sword. Lesca immediately obeyed, retreating quickly, and trying to take Kisrel with her. But Kisrel didn't want to back down, despite the fact that she was armed only with her tiny dagger.
Just then a howling was heard, but it didn't come from the monster. Jagged rocks pelted the creature, and it turned, livid towards its new assailants. Brael wasted no time, running forward and driving his sword straight into the Rukh's soft underbelly. It gave a mournfull cry, before collapsing on the ground, kicking up a cloud of light brown dust. When the air cleared, the 'heroes' revealed themselves.
"Zavv? What in Yuna's name are you doing here?"
"You!" Zavv cried, ignoring Kisrel completely and glaring at Lesca, who screamed and dove behind Brael. Who still had his sword aloft, dripping as it was with the Rukh's blood. Dom (who was standing behind Zavv) ran forward, her dagger in her hands. Kisrel could see bloodshed ahead, and stepped in between the two combatants-Dom and Brael-before they killed each other.
"Now wait, just a minute," she ordered, and there was no arguing with that tone of voice.
"They're the ones who kidnapped me!" Lesca sobbed.
"That's because YOU tried to burn down our Temple!" Zavv shot back. Kisrel could see it, another part of his personality. He would stop at very little to protect his home. But Lesca was still hysterical.
"It's not even a true temple, it's a blasphemy."
It was VERY difficult to hold Dom back. She growled curses and profanities at both Lesca and Brael, who had yet to put down his weapon.
"ENOUGH!" Kisrel yelled.
The world stopped. She took a few calming breaths.
"Now, I don't care about your personal vendettas. But I won't have you fighting, it's not worth it."
Everyone backed down, but that didn't stop the glares and murderous expressions.
"Lesca," Kisrel spoke soothingly, not something she was use to doing, "You have to understand. Not everyone follows the Lady as you do. We can't fault them for that. If you did try to burn down their Temple, it was withing their rights to hold you prisoner. I don't know if anything was done to you, but I stayed with these people for two days, and was always treated well. I consider them friends, and I won't have you or your guardian trying to start a fight. And as for you," she turned to Dom, and her tone wasn't quite as sweet, "This poor girl is frightened half out of her wits. I understand you want to protect your home but from now on, any violent action has to go through me first, are we clear?"
Dom looked ready to plunge her dagger deep into Kisrel's chest but when she looked at Zavv, who nodded, she backed up, and sheathed it.
"So," Kisrel sounded unusually chipper, "Now that we're all friends, whose going with me?"
The trek was uneventful aside from Kisrel trying to keep Dom away from Lesca.
Like a story we are, Kisrel thought, dryly. But in the stories it was always a group of friends bound by affection and a single purpose. Neither of which applied to this band. No one knew the others agenda and to say they were friends would be a lie bordering on blasphemy.
Kisrel had reached a point with Zavv where they weren't pals but she knew him well enough to ignore him. Dom split her time between antagonizing Kisrel to fighting with Lesca who in turn hid behind Brael who generally kept his mouth shut and his eyes open.
From the sky they must have made quite a spectacle. Two golden heads, one raven black, one autumn-honey and one pepper, moving across a tan road set in a dull landscape. At least it would have been dull if not for the varied assortment of fiends running around. Conversation, understandably, was strained to say the least. Occasionally, Lesca would titter about some beautiful flower or try to chat up Kisrel about the teaching of Yuna. This would invariably lead to Dom making some belligerent comment about Yuna's heritage or night activity and if they were lucky, everyone would lapse back into silence. More often though, a shout fest would ensue, thereby attracting all the resident fiends in the vicinity.
"Where did they all come from?" Lesca asked after one particularly ugly encounter involving two red Vespas. Brael grunted that it was just the area but Kisrel sensed something else-something deeper. The next obstacle came in the form of a ravine, a canyon that ripped open the landscape for miles. Kisrel bit back frustration, Dom cursed, Lesca all but passed out from exhaustion and by silent agreement, Brael and Zavv began building a fire. A few minutes later it was crackling just as darkness covered the land. The five companions sat around the small inferno refusing to meet each others eyes. Lesca was the one who broke the silence, spontaneously jumping up and asking: "Who's up for a story?"
Despite the fact she got no answer, Lesca continued on, her voice tinged with an odd mix of excitement and reverence.
"This is the story of Breen and Katya and their tragic love."
Dom snorted, "A Zanarkand love story? That's rich. This I gotta hear."
Lesca pointedly ignored her, saying:
"Katya was a priestess in the order of Yuna, content with her quiet life. That is, until a wounded soldier, injured in the Holy War was delivered ot he Temple doorsteps. Katya was a healer and given charge over him. Under her constant watch and care he was healed of his wounds thoug he would never again be able to fight. When he opened his eyes, first beholding her angelic face, Breen whispered, 'I dreamed of you'. Katya had rarely been exposed to such flattery and she blushed under his appraising gaze. In time his strength returned and Katya was his ever-present companion. The Reverend Mother indulged them, chalking it up to childish innocence. But the war was still raging and eventually it found its way to the Temple door. Enemy forces demanded that the Priests release their patient, claiming he had important information they wanted. While the Priests stalled, the priestess' got Breen out through the back. He begged Katya to come with him, to run away forever," Lesca paused.
"And did she?" Kisrel demanded, not realizing she'd been so enraptured. Lesca shook her head.
"No. She knew her place was in the Temple. She watched him disappear into the night, never to see him again."
"That was stupid," declared Dom. Lesca shrugged.
"Perhaps it was not the best choice, maybe things would have been different. But then maybe it would have been wrong, because how could Breen trust Katya if she betrayed the Temple when she had followed it her entire life? There is no happy ending, no right answer."
"People who want happy endings have to write their own," Kisrel muttered, thinking out loud. Zavv started, but said nothing.
"What's that?" Lesca asked, her voiced piqued with naivete. Kisrel glanced around, suddenly the center of attention.
"Oh. Nothing. Just a mantra of a long dead warrior."
Or all the relationships, perhaps the strangest was Dom and Brael. The Al Bhed had taken a strange liking to the quiet guardian, sitting next to him by the fire, and asking him questions about his life, his connection to Lesca and so on. He gave curt, one word answers most of the time, and when that wouldn't suffice, he would just shrug he broad shoulders, and stare into the fire. Kisrel found it odd, but upon close inspection, found that, in the firelight, Brael didn't look as old as first implied. The gray in his hair seemed more from stress and hardship than age, and once you saw past the scowl, his face wasn't that lined. Kisrel though about joining in on the little interrogation but decided that 1) it wasn't her place and 2) there were some things she didn't want to know, plus 3) she wouldn't like being pestered for answers about herself therefore she let Dom carry on the inquiries. At the rate they were going, it was going to be a long night.