Author's Note: We're switching from secondary characters to Ramza. His POV will be growing more and more dominant now. Not terribly happy with this chapter. I didn't feel the "go" feeling I usually get when I'm writing.

Chapter Six: Delita

There was a common tale told by the bedside for young children too scared to go to sleep. It went something like this: Once upon a time, long, long ago, before Ivalice was united as it was, there were seven countries. These countries fought long and hard and shed much blood. The king of one of these countries wanted the power to rule the world. Greed had ever been sin's temptation. He gained the power he sought, but sin is an effrontery to God. The king paid for his immorality with his life and his kingdom.

But he was not the only one to pay, for in his greed, he unleashed the devil's spawn. These monsters ran amok throughout Ivalice, burning and killing, striking fear into all who beheld them. But God would not leave his beloved people to the mercy of merciless monsters. He sent down twelve heroes, the Zodiac Braves, to fight the evil that threatened Ivalice….

It was a story Balbanes told Ramza many times, a tale that instructed as much as it comforted those who feared the dark things in the night. "To be even a tenth courageous as the least of the Zodiac Brave," Balbanes would always say, "is to be truest to the noble virtues of knighthood."

Father…. I guess I can't be the knight you wanted me to be.

Ramza hung his head in his own private shame as he walked behind Agrias and Gafgarion. They were intently studying tracks that deviated from the main highway—initially those of a heavily-laden chocobo, but eventually turning into the hard edges of boots and soft-soled slippers. Delita and the princess had moved off chocobo-back toward the woods outside of Zeltennia.

That makes sense. If he skirts around Zeltennia's northern border, which is still weak after the Death Corps affair, then he could slide into any of the eastern nations with ease. But what would he do with the princess then? Delita, what is your scheme?

And Ramza knew he had to have one. Delita never acted without a plan…except for one time…so long ago…at Zeakden.

"Ramza," Agrias called harshly. "I say, Ramza! Wake up, boy! We're moving. Your 'friend' must be making for Zirekile falls, just east of here. It's an easily defendable position." She boldly took the point position, striding confidently into the woods.

The young mercenary cringed under her biting words. She doesn't seem to like me.

Gafgarion came up and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't fret about her, lad," he said winningly, his gruffness suddenly dispersed. "You just do your job and we'll all be going home several hundred gold pieces richer. And that's the key to everything, right, Ramza?"

Ramza did not agree with that at all, but he smiled winsomely anyway. "Sure, Gafgarion. You don't need to worry about me. I know how to use a sword, after all."

The old mercenary captain's easy glance turned hard. "Aye, lad, sure you do. I know." Then he turned and followed Agrias into the greenery.

What was that all about? No matter, I guess. I'm sure that it's just my imagin—

A scream cut his thoughts short.

Ahead, Agrias' eyes widened in horror and concern. "Ovelia!" Surely, the noble knight must have been terribly shaken to refer to the princess so formally. But decorum was far from her mind. Ramza watched, stunned, as she charged forth with sword flashing.

"Ramza, move!" commanded Gafgarion, rushing into the fray himself.

When the three arrived at the falls, they found Delita with the princess atop the bridge that spanned the gap. The bridge itself was what made Zirekile so defensible—unless the enemy controlled both ends of it. Knights wearing the colors of the Hokuten advanced on either end of the plank bridge, swords drawn.

Delita held the center, with two Hokuten corpses already staining the woodwork, courtesy of his blade. The princess stood behind him; strangely enough, she clutched at his sleeve desperately, as if expecting him to protect her.

"Ovelia!" Agrias cried wildly, alerting everyone to their presence.

The princess' eyes widened in joy and relief. "Agrias! Save us!" she implored. Without a moment's hesitation, the Holy Knight rushed to the steep, uneven path that led up to the bridge. Even at this distance, Ramza could see Delita's jaw tighten at the mere suggestion that he could not protect her alone.

"Delita," the young mercenary called in a much more controlled tone—but one that hid vast emotion and turmoil, "why…Delita, why?"

His old friend glanced briefly down at him, the stiff jaw relaxing into a bitter smile. "Now is not the time to banter philosophy, Ramza," he said jokingly. "If you want a reunion, then get up here and help me!"

"Help me," he says. Not "save me." Delita—you always did try so hard to do everything on your own…and it was for Teta. Always for Teta. You had to be strong for her.

Recalling that young, innocent face, blasted from the face of the earth because of a stupid mistake, made Ramza's fingers itch. He looked up to the bridge, where Agrias and Gafgarion were clambering up to reach Delita and the princess. On either side of the bridge were Hokuten.

Hokuten, whom my father served. Hokuten, who indirectly led to Teta's death.

I won't let them lead to Delita's.

He ran up the path with more grace and agility than the mercenary captain or the Holy Knight—agility born from some inner demon that clawed at his soul with talons made of guilt. "Delita, I'm coming!" he shouted.

Agrias beat him to the top. She cut down one of the Hokuten right from the start and was about to strike down a second when Gafgarion got to the stop. The mercenary captain drew a knife from his belt and threw it into the Holy Knight's thigh. She let out a surprised cry and fell to one knee. Ramza could only stare at this in shock.

"Gafgarion!" Agrias growled in a fury. "What is the meaning of this?"

The mercenary captain only shrugged. "Business. Prince Larg and Dycedarg Beoulve hired me to work for you. The princess is coming to Igros with me, lady knight." He turned to the Hokuten. "Kill her, while she's down! By order of the prince!" he commanded.

The nearest Hokuten kicked Agrias' sword off the edge of the bridge and raised his own blade for the finishing blow. The Holy Knight, defiant as ever, did not flinch as the weapon began its descent. This time, Ramza knew with chilling certainty, he would not be able to turn aside that strike.

But Delita could. With unprecedented skill, he cut down the Hokuten he was fighting, and leaped off the edge of the bridge. He grabbed at the rope railing and swung himself around, coming up right next to Agrias' attacker and knocking him right off. The knight fell onto the rocks below.

"Princess, get off the bridge!" Delita shouted. The princess only nodded, seemingly trusting him. She moved toward the other end of the walkway. Then Delita turned to Agrias. "You, Holy Knight, pull yourself together!" Agrias only glared at him for his condescending tone and struggled to her feet. But her leg failed her and she ended up leaning against the cliff-side. She seemed unusually wan and weak; sweat beaded on her brow and her breath came in hard gasps.

Ramza, worried, moved toward her. But Gafgarion stood before him.

"Your brother, Ramza," the mercenary captain said in low tones, "gave the order himself, you know."

The earlier mention of his brother had stunned him, but the fact that Gafgarion knew…. "How did you know I was a Beoulve? I never told you my family name."

"Ha! You're pretty naive, lad. Beoulve hired me to watch you, of course! Besides, 'Ramza Ruglia?' That surname's almost as famous as Beoulve. Not many peasant women get married off to famous knights like Balbanes Beoulve." Gafgarion pointed his sword at him. "But that's neither there nor here. This is. Ramza, I like you, kid—don't make me have to hurt you. Just do as you're told, all right?"

"I won't!" Ramza said fiercely.

Gafgarion frowned. "Don't be so petulant, boy. This is for everyone's good."

"You think handing the princess over to Larg—a man who's own knights want to kill her—will be for the good? I can't stand by and let innocent people get hurt!" Teta came into his mind again. His fingers itched painfully. "No! I can't stand by and let innocents be hurt! Gafgarion! Get out of my way!"

The mercenary captain only sneered. "Fool child! Fool, spoiled child! You don't even know what's going on, do you? Can't you see, Ramza? If Ovelia lives, chaos will ensue. She can't take the throne, not now!"

Ramza drew his sword. "I don't care. The princess is a living person, Gafgarion. I can't let people die like this."

"You are so quick to make yourself look like a fool," Gafgarion spat derisively. "What gives you the right to decide how people will die, Ramza? I know you've killed before, even if it was never in my service. You have the look of someone who has killed and couldn't stomach it. You're just being an idealistic fool if you think you can save anyone with a cowardly heart like yours!"

He brought his sword up in an aggressive stance. "I had hope for you, lad. You're better with a sword than most people I know. You can beat hardened killers without a scratch and without scratching them in return. I always hoped that working with me would make you into a real man, into a real soldier. But you're just like Dycedarg said—a fool."

Gafgarion was finished talking. He charged Ramza with a battle cry. The young mercenary only barely parried the ferocious blows that rained down on him. Never before had he faced off against anyone like Gafgarion! The man was truly a demon in human guise, for he seemed unstoppable and relentless. He pounded away at Ramza's defenses, bit by bit. Already, the younger warrior's arms tired and ached and his breaths became labored. But Gafgarion only kept on attacking, his energy and strength limitless.

"You should have just done as you were told, Ramza," he said sadly as he stared at Ramza over their crossed blades. "I meant it when I said I liked you. You're a good lad; Dycedarg doesn't give you the credit you deserve."

"Shut up, Gafgarion!" Ramza growled back. "You betrayed me! You're going to kill the princess—you're going to give her over to people who'll kill her! How can you do this? Don't say money, Gafgarion! Don't make me hate you more than I already do, you bastard!"

They broke off and stood apart, circling each other warily. "Don't be stupid, Ramza. This is business. This is what we've been doing since you joined up. A contract, Ramza—that's what governs the loyalty of men like you and me—mercenaries!"

Gafgarion gave a heave of his shoulders and sent the younger fighter sprawling onto the ground. His sword fell off to the side, out of reach. He felt the cold steel of the mercenary captain's blade on his cheek. Ramza hung his head and murmured, "I didn't want to be a mercenary…I just…wanted to run away."

Gafgarion seemed confused. "What are you talking about?" Then he shrugged. "No matter. I'll let you live, lad. But don't get in my way." Then he turned away and stalked toward the bridge, where the princess was helping Agrias steady herself. Delita stood at the bridge's mouth, holding off the remaining Hokuten with the skill and power of a hundred knights.

But Agrias was wounded—by the poison on the Gafgarion's knife more than the knife itself—and Delita was beginning to tire; they would be easy foes for the experienced mercenary captain. Then the princess would be his…and so would the bounty Larg had on her head.

Gafgarion smiled when he saw the defiant glare in Agrias' eyes, knowing full well that she could do nothing to stop him…but then his smile faded into an O of shock when he felt a shoulder slam into the small of his back, sending him headlong off the cliff.

Gaff Gafgarion issued a scream as he fell to the rocks waiting below.

Ramza sank to his knees, horrified at what he had just done. His hands trembled terribly and his breath came in ragged gasps. But then he felt a strong, calming hand on his shoulder, steadying his nerves.

"Delita…."

His old friend smiled warmly, though his face was wan and exhausted; behind him lay the corpses of the Hokuten, dispatched to a man against his ungodly sword. "Hello, Ramza. It's been a long time."

Ramza wanted to say something—anything. This was Delita, whom he had not seen in such a long time…and all that time, he thought him dead. But he could think of nothing to say.

Then Agrias groaned loudly, falling to the ground. The princess cried out in alarm. "Something's wrong with her, Delita!" she said worriedly. "Her face is all hot and she's not breathing right. Oh, God, help her, Delita!"

He knelt beside the Holy Knight and brushed a hand against her forehead. "Fever," he said, noting the obvious. "It must be poison from the knife." He reached out to wrest the weapon free of her thigh, but Ramza stopped him.

"If you pull it out like that, you might ruin the muscle," he said quietly, falling back into the old routine that was between him and Delita. "Go get water. Use your breastplate if you have to. Princess, please cut up your shawl into strips." Once the others had gone to carry out his instructions, Ramza helped Agrias up to a sitting position. She blinked blearily, but she was still conscious.

"Agrias, I need you to work with me here," he said soothingly, hoping to get through her poison-clouded mind. "You're sick, but I'm going to help you. I'll need to slice the legging of your trousers, all right? And then I'm going to pull out the knife. All right?" At her nod, shaky and weak as it was, he drew out a knife and proceeded to bare her wounded thigh.

Blood had already seeped into the cloth of her trousers; the wound was much more severe that it seemed.

Gafgarion always said a barbed-tip knife was best to incapacitate someone….

It was going to be tricky to remove the weapon without causing her further pain and injury. "All right, I'm going to take out the knife," he informed her calmly. "This will hurt, so bite on this so you don't cut off your tongue." He offered out his leather-clad hand. She eyed with warily. "Agrias, please cooperate," he implored. "I know you're strong—but even the strong can feel pain. Please, bite on this so you don't hurt yourself." Still wary, the proud knight put her teeth against the glove.

With the care he would have given to the most priceless of antiques, Ramza worked around the barbed tip and slipped the knife out of Agrias' thigh. Her blue eyes widened into icy agony, and a great muffled wail escaped her lips. She bit down on the gauntlet hard enough to penetrate the thick leather. Ramza winced when he felt her teeth cut into his flesh. But he did not stop. In a matter of moments, the horrid knife was free.

Ramza then licked the blade's edge and spat out the familiar taste of cobra venom. "Potent, too," he said with a grimace. He turned to Agrias. "I'll need to suck out the poison." She nodded blearily and he set to work. He pressed his lips tightly around her thigh, drawing the tainted blood into his mouth and spitting it to the side. He continued until he could no longer taste the vile poison in his mouth.

Just then, Delita and the princess returned, bearing water and cloths. "Press the wound," Ramza instructed. "Force as much blood out as you can, just to make sure the rest of the venom is gone. Then clean it."

"Where are you going?" Delita asked when Ramza stood up.

"I need to wash out my mouth," he said with a grin. For some reason, he could not stop himself from saying, "Let's hope this turns out better than when we saved Algus."