Chapter II: Frontwards and Upwards
Ivalice's inauguration ceremonies tapered off as the week ended, but the overall mood maintained a cheery disposition. Decorations were tucked away into attics, partiers returned to their jobs, the economy had found a second wind in Delita Hyral. Even as the firework displays and feasts started to become distant memories, speculation of how the new king would christen his era in was on everyone's tongues. Stabs in the dark had included improving agricultural methods, cleaner town areas, more festivities, even; yet, all fell short of Delita's plan.
---
The forest abruptly ended into a spacious collection of ancient knolls, carpeted in grass reaching upwards of six-foot-high. Globules of dew hung off of the green tips like festival ornaments, rosy orange in the glow of a far-off sun. Literally untouched by time, no signs of active civilization sprung to view. It was strange to be able to smell the lack of people and livestock, and this was the first thing that came to Delita, someone who had visited ever kingdom in Ivalice far and wide. "This is the place."
An ornate carriage pulled out of the darkness and stopped in the short buffer zone between the forest and the field of grass. Out of the chocobo-drawn carriage, Delita stepped down, taking careful steps not to dirty his attire. Not inconspicuous in the least, he flaunted the crown atop his head, royal-red robes eddying as the breeze rummaged through. He took in what little view there was before turning to greet his four associates, exiting the two carriages from whence they came.
Chamberlain was dressed in a field expedition suit, as if he were going to be collecting bugs and slimy things under rocks. His plump figure did not belie his excitement, and he quickly ran to inspect the area after giving a courteous "good morning" to Delita. Kleff had shared a carriage with him and looked semi-excited, no doubt having heard of the wondrous adventures that were sure to come. He was sleepy-eyed and dressed for a business meeting, no doubt unaware of what was to take place.
Antirine jumped out of the next carriage, his armor banging loudly to convey his unspoken irritation. This was supposed to be a quiet day, he thought, sending the entire area up in flames with a single, scornful gaze. He immediately lit his pipe, content not to talk with anyone. Looking as brisk as ever, Tartar ducked out from the interior, commanding everyone's attention for a moment without even doing anything. He had talked with Delita about this excursion the night before and had an idea what was about to come. He nodded politely and let Delita have his full attention, ignoring the others in the meanwhile.
As everyone acclimated themselves to the surroundings, Delita spoke. "Welcome to the great outdoors, gentlemen. Sorry to take away your free hours, but this is of most importance." Antirine growled somewhere underneath his metal sheath, but was careful not to attract any attention. Everyone else gave a smile or nod, and Delita continued, the overpowering urge to confess his plan warming his blood.
"I'm sure you are wondering why you are here, but that will be revealed in a short while. This location is a secret place, and I trust you all to keep it that way; if the right people were to be notified of our presence, this entire operation could be compromised." Delita beamed, and everyone could see an undercurrent of intrigue rushing to his head. He beckoned with one hand to the grassy jungle. "This, my friends, is the future of Zeltennia."
Tartar took a step forward, as if he was about to take over the explanation, but Delita carried on, walking over to one of the tall stalks. He removed his crystalline sword--"an impractical theater prop," Antirine had secretly branded it--and quickly chopped one down. Getting an idea of what they were going to be doing, everyone else brandished their own, except for Hollister who didn't carry one on him; he took out a knife.
Delita turned shortened another three blades of grass before turning around. "Have any of you heard the stories of the olden days?"
Hollister spoke up with pride, as if had been there. "The days when Ivalice wasn't settled, you mean?"
"No, not that far back. I'm talking about the days of the airships."
Delita waited for a collective gasp, but only one came from Kleff, and that was more of a cough to make sure he heard the king straight. Was he really proposing that they dig for airships? Why, they are only rumored to have existed in the first place! Survane had lived in Goug for the majority of his life (in face, he was an Engineer) and even there, in the most technologically advanced place in Ivalice, they hadn't even found an airship. Kleff looked around and saw his peers' countenances unchanged. Did they have any idea what he just proposed?
"Sire, what does this mean? I don't understand." Suddenly, it felt as though the sun's rays were shining directly on him. Was he supposed to be captivated or offended? What could the farm country of Zeltennia do that the machinists of Goug couldn't? Kleff quickly wiped his brow with a handkerchief. He should have faked an illness.
"Yes, I suppose many of you are wondering about the legitimacy of this affair. I would like to say that I'm completely sure it's true, but as the information is sketchy and vague, I can't reassure you. However, the prospect of this opportunity is so great that I can't pass it up. I would hope you all take this seriously, in the case that we do stumble upon something useful."
"But where did you learn of such a thing, Your Majesty? I have not heard any such myths of airships in this area," Hollister piped in.
Delita hesitated, catching the words on his tongue. He had actually learned of this information while coming in contact with the Shrine Knights and similar shady groups in the past. There was absolutely no way he could affiliate himself with such crowds, even in the confines of this loyal group. "I'm afraid I can't indulge you, professor, but I would hope you handle this task with consideration."
"Of course I will, Your Majesty, but..."
Delita interrupted. "Don't you trust me?"
"Of course I do, Your Majesty, but..."
Delita interrupted again. "Then do as I command."
Even Tartar was taken aback at Delita's exercising of royal authority. He hadn't seen Delita lose his temper thus far into his reign, and he was by his side when foreign ministers and audiences were held. Perhaps that king was divorcing himself from that timid image he had once had? Tartar looked to Antirine, eyes twinkled with concealed laughter. Perhaps it amounted to nothing more than Hollister getting caught in Delita's trap.
"Now then," Delita said, breaking the awkward silence, "let's have at it, shall we?"
Quick on the rebound, Hollister chimed in a wholehearted agreement, running towards the grass with his knife in hand. Perhaps he had thick skin in more way than one. Delita was glad this situation had passed and beckoned the rest of his crew to join in. They did so leisurely, neither of them leaping at the chance but none wanting to fall victim to another situation like they had just seen.
Once Delita, Chamberlain, and Survane had disappeared into the overgrowth, Antirine kicked the wheel to the nearest carriage to vent, breaking a wooden spoke off with the iron toe of his boot. "What a stupid waste of time." With a lightning-quick swing, the nearest shoot of grass was divorced from its grassy body.
---
Hours without a sign of anything human-made passed slowly. Delita was accompanied by Chamberlain and Tartar, both of whom had disappeared somewhere together. Antirine was alone and had gone off in a northeasterly direction, slicing things in half as he saw fit. This really was a waste of time, he had decided, and he was quickly becoming discontent. The end of the third hour found Antirine sitting on the bald crest of a hill, the grass around him cut down to jagged stumps. His sword now hung lazily in his calloused hand, and he started to walk back to the carriages on the makeshift path he had created. A familiar face hadn't shown up in two or more hours and his patience was quickly being siphoned away.
"Antirine!"
Somewhere, Kleff's voice bellowed, and the walls of green rustled crunched as he ran to find him. Antirine betrayed his direction with a baritone whistle, and he returned to halving the area around him. He's probably lost, the dark knight thought, somewhat amused. It would be just like him to have moped around and vanished. Kleff's voice called out again, and this time it was closer. Antirine decided to humor him with a reply.
"Yeah," he half-yelled, using momentum to double his weapon's workload. Hopefully he would leave him alone if he was hungry; there wasn't anymore dried meat on him. Overhead, the noonday sun only served as a reminder to how much more time could be spent out in the middle of nowhere. Antirine sliced another yard and as he brought the sword down again, Kleff's youthful face poked out of nowhere. A split second later, the wet sword blade stood a breath away from his neck.
"Be more careful, you idiot," Antirine derided, tucking his sword away with deliberate oomph. It made a gritty, unrefined iron sound that made Kleff's teeth grind. Catching his breath, the newcomer attempted to explain the situation as best he could.
"There...was...a...skeleton..."
Antirine suppressed his urge to laugh. "No wonder. You can barely tell which way is up in here."
"No...I...don't...mean..."
"Spit it out already!"
"Iron...skeleton..."
The wind heaved the leafy stems into Antirine and he punched them away thoughtlessly. An iron skeleton! Out here in the boondocks! Even when he had visited Goug, there had been no discovery of such a thing, let alone anything that could be considered a "skeleton". Perhaps Delita had just found something else...
"Come on," Kleff murmured before being swallowed up once more. Antirine wanted to interrogate him now that he'd caught his breath, but it would be just as good to see first-hand. He followed the noise trail in silent disbelief, his attention piqued after much effort.
---
After Kleff was sent back into no man's land, everyone set to work in clearing a field of vision. Delita would let his subjects do the work for him, and he joined in the frenzy, breaking his sword in for what little use it had seen. Soren and Hollister worked around side opposite Delita. Hollister's attention was elsewhere, for obvious reasons, and did little with his knife. Soren, however, blazed his finely-crafted piece with expert strokes, rocketing tufts of plant life in all directions. In an hour, a crude circle arced around the ship ruins, and it was well worth it.
The frame had fallen on its side, the metal mechanisms scattered around like useless debris. Hollister had long since gotten over his open-mouthed shock, and had taken it upon himself to inspect everything, even though Soren had attempted to himself. There was no way he was stealing the satisfaction from this! Each piece of pipe and plating only confirmed that traveling the skies might once again become a possibility. Anyone who participated in a revival would surely receive an accolade greater than any award--a place in history. Hollister quickly scrambled to and fro, his fleshy frame bouncing with childlike glee. A second coming of airships! Who wouldn't be excited!
Even though Delita had been the one to find it, he let the professor run around and inspect everything while he just gazed at it. Most of the airship stories that he had been told about described them as mammoth, metal-and-wood beasts, capable of making or destroying a nation. "What do you think, Soren?" Delita asked his nearby friend, who had stooped to get a better look at a complex-looking piece. Soren got back on his feet and brushed the dust and dirt off his hands.
"I'd be lying if I didn't say that this entire project is dangerous, but I, too, would like to see it completed. Do you think we could use this airship as a guiding model?"
Delita scratched his cheek, unsure of how to proceed. "I suppose so. I'm still amazed that we found anything..."
Soren turned back to studying the toppled-over carcass, making mental notes for the report he would eventually transcribe on the subject. The airship itself, or what was left of it, appeared to have just fallen over from an erect position, probably by the elements. Over the years, the grass had devoured it and it was forgotten. The surrounding land was infertile which is no doubt why it hadn't been transformed into a township or sorts. As far as Soren could guess, the shape of the airship was like a flat-bottomed boat, which rounded upwards from a oblong base.
Soren sidled along the edge of the metal husk, stepping over a dirty pool of pitch-black liquid. "What's this...ooze," he yelled over to Delita, who had taken to inspecting an odd Y-shaped object on a pole.
"It's known as oil!" Hollister fired back from somewhere, only too happy to oblige.
"Oh," Soren mumbled inwardly, noting it for future reference. This was a lot to cover, more than anything he'd written on taxation or the Glabados Church. He quickly estimated the specs for the ship and walked back to Delita, still tinkering with the y-shaped device. He guided it with his hand before whipping it around; it spun.
"What's that thing?"
"A weapon, maybe? There are a lot more of them over there."
Without warning, the vegetation opened up and coughed out the king's two absent soldiers, their faces misshapen with agitation. The return trip had consisted of Kleff getting lost twice and falling in a large mud hole; his cheeks hadn't lost the rosy tint of embarrassment yet. Antirine was less dirty and more composed, but clenched his weapon as if his restraint had evaporated. The grassy opening quickly disappeared as if the recent movement had made no impression at all.
"Hell of a trail to blaze," Antirine spat, wiping a clump of muddy residue off his breastplate.
"I'd imagine it was," Soren commented. He looked up them up and down, envisioning what had happened en route. There would be no need to ask any stupid questions. "Since you have yet to see this massive wreckage for yourself, Mr. Antirine, feel free to do so now. We won't be staying much longer."
"That's nice," Antirine said, doing his best to hide his interest. The mere sight of such a forgotten piece of time was enough to make even him throw down his stubbornness and walk around like an inspector. He had a faint idea of what some of the pieces were, but his time in Goug had remarkably short. Memories of the noisy town seeped back into his mind, reminding him that this could turn out beneficial to him as well. He chuckled. Machines didn't captivate him as much as most would, but he was acquainted with the potency that could be milked out of such tools.
Twenty yards around the perimeter of the former airship, he came face to face with a door to a metal-enclosed room. It hung agape, a rusted lock on the ground beside it. Smack in the dab of the lop-sided room, Hollister walked around, opening and shutting metal boxes. Antirine approached silently, hovering in the doorway like an apparition. The professor swore in Romandan as one of the boxes remained obstinate, not opening even as his portly fingers pried. He bounced back skittishly when he noticed the dark knight gazing at him.
"You ghoul!" he barked, quickly trailing off lest the others rush to see what had happened. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Seeing what trouble you're causing." Antirine ducked through the door frame, taking a look around for himself. A few opened boxes littered the floor, a large metal crank jutted out of the back wall, a few useless pipes stuck out of a drawer, the shredded remnants of a tapestry hung backwards on the wall/floor.
"I'm not causing any trouble, you scoundrel," the professor growled, getting on the defensive as he watched Antirine touch a few things here and there. Dirtying up the airship's treasures! "Hmph, don't mess anything up. The contents will all be shipped back to Zeltennia when time permits. It's a wonder these things are still intact."
"A wonder to you, maybe. Anyone could see you took them out of those boxes over there," Antirine scoffed, stifling the air of superiority the professor was throwing at him.
"Why do you say that?" encouraged Hollister, almost daring the knight to point out any other glaring faults."
"The footprints in the age-old grime, the disturbed dust patterns, you breaking into the room in the first place. A stablehand could see such things. Really, it's elementary, my dear professor." He went over to the metal crank and twisted it as far as he could. This was obviously the steering column, but he'd lead the academic wonder along for a while longer.
"Ahh, very well done; you are correct. I don't suppose you're much of an inventor-type, are you?"
Of course Antirine was. You can't make a living in Goug unless you can work machines, and Antirine had spent a fair share of time helping out the machinists on their contraptions. Water conduits, steel giants, mine shafts...you name it, Antirine had tinkered on it, studied it, helped perfect it. Really, it was too bad that he was the hired muscle for Delita, because all that knowledge went to waste. Not like he was inclined to flaunt it, though; save that show for the gaudy, self-important, university pigs. Oh, he only remember too well how--
"A little," came the reluctant reply. Keep the past in the past, Antirine, you idiot.
Rubbing his neck in thought, Chamberlain just stared, debating whether he was telling the truth or not. The truth didn't matter anyhow, not at this point in time. "Well, Zeltennia could use anyone any free hand when we this resurrect this beast. I'm sure you know important this is to everyone."
"Of course."
"Just think of it. Human beings traveling the skies like storybooks had described, blotting out the clouds in an attempt to defy the gods. I'm not sure why technology died out back then, but I'm determined not to let it happen again. History damns those who forget it, I'm sure you know."
"Of course." Antirine took a seat on an overturned barrel. Letting the professor ramble would pass the time.
"Just imagine the innovations it would do to today's world. No longer would daylong chocobo trips be the only means of quick transportation; no longer would communication between kingdoms lay on the shoulders of messengers; no longer would warfare be a bloodfest of swords and shields. I see these things and want them to occur. Do you understand where I'm coming from?"
"Of course."
"Is that all you are going to say?"
"Of course not." The professor looked at him wide-eyed, waiting for him to add in his own two cents. He wasn't sure he should reveal his position on anything at this time, but chewing the fat was always better than baking outside.
"Alright, here's what I think. Airships will revolutionize the kingdom in all the facets you pinpointed. It will throw us into a new age, and I'm not talking one of leisure and happiness. The return of flight for men will doom them all, for there is no way that such a secret can be kept for long. Other nations will mimic the ways of us and we will not have the upper hand once again. So on and so forth until everyone kills each other."
"That's certainly a pessimistic way of looking at things. Don't you think that airships will do more good than harm?" The professor sounded almost hurt.
"I don't deal in conjecture. Other countries will want to have airships and will try until they succeed; fact. Other kingdoms will squabble over control of the air; fact. No one knows how the airships became lost knowledge, but I'll tell you: the power to change changes those with the power."
"You're just guessing at the future."
"Just a second ago you were proclaiming the freedoms you would receive upon the completion. Construct an entire fleet, it won't matter. There will always be some sort of network that wishes the demise of those freedoms. Not to spin one of my philosophies on you, but nothing is secure in its own right."
"You seem troubled by the news," the professor muttered, coaxing more information out of Antirine. The knight saw the focus change and shook his head. "That is enough talk for today. I'm going to check in on the others." He was off the barrel and out the door in a matter of seconds, leaving the professor agape at his sudden displeasure to have the conversation.
The professor waddled out of the doorway and around to the others. Delita and Soren held a private conversation off to the side, while young Kleff tinkered with the y-shaped device. Hollister was sure that his partner in science had already identified it as a propeller, as had Antirine. Maybe. The dark, threatening knight had left a little of his mystery in the pilot's room. Even as the professor rejoined the others, Antirine ceased to acknowledge his presence, almost as if he was ashamed at the crack that had been made in his brooding nature.
Delita broke off mid-speech everyone rejoined. Apparently, he had been getting restless to return back to Zeltennia and was taking it in silent strides. Everyone had noticed how that, even with the power he was bestowed, he didn't exercise his right to be childish and fickle. Maybe that was because of his vague dependency on everyone's input; his four pillars.
"How did it go, professor?"
"Just fine, Your Majesty! Everything seems to be broken or rusted away, but I'm positive it can be repaired with the staff we have on hand at the castle. There is no doubt in mind that the rebirth of airships is on the horizon."
"Great! That's what I like to hear!" Delita fiddled with the jewel-encrusted crown atop his brown locks, thinking of something important to say. Soren stepped up in his stead. "Our work today has gone a long way in the service to the king, and everyone will be rewarded greatly for their contributions. Don't get let your head hit the ceiling yet, though; there is plenty more to do and see before the first motor runs and the ground loses its grasp on humanity once again.
Hollister's ears perked up. "Did he just say 'motor'?" A sly grin crossed his face, though no one else seemed to have noticed. So, even Soren Tartar, who was more accustomed to writing papers and playing right-hand man to Delita, had an interesting background he hadn't shared with anyone. This secret knowledge that the professor almost made him giggle.
"So," continued Tartar, "if anyone has no other affairs to take care of now, we can all head back to the carriages. Antirine, if you would." This was the first time that Antirine noticed that there was no exit path. He scowled under his helmet and popped his red-hued sword out, angry that anyone would have the audacity to just walk around the green ocean without doing work themselves. He set to speed-carving out a walkway, which everyone took for go-get-'em eagerness.
And so, nothing had really changed the situation from the time the carriages rolled in to when they rolled out. But, it was a start, and one that would spread its wildfire mentality to the people involved. After all, who better to advance the nation forward than those who had the means to do so?