***Author's Notes***
Well, here's the battle scene that's due. Prepare to be disappointed, seeing as it isn't my main focus.
***Author's Notes***
Chapter 02-08 "Senseless Involvement" (Chapter Two: The Manipulator and the Subservient, Scene 08)
***
***January 5th, Year 2. Bariaus Hill***
The riders that have been waiting for Agrias' group had been visible for several minutes now. Like her own people, they too rode on chocobo. Atop the jagged crest of the cubic hill, the riders' posturing indicated that they were waiting for her group specifically.
After first spotting them, the geomancer leading the escort doubled back from the van and asked her, "If you wish, my people can slow them down. . ."
"That's not an option," Ramza told him, clucking his chocobo forwards to pace the leaders. "If you can't take them by yourselves, they are bound to catch with us."
"What's wrong?" Ovelia asked, chiming in, wincing as she shaded her eyes and tried to take a better look at the foreboding hill. They were already in the southern highlands of Lionel, and hill it may be, it did dominate the flat terrain atop the ridge they were on.
"There's someone waiting for us," Agrias told her, being blunt. "We can't get around them." Leaning forwards to address the geomancer, she told him, "There's still some time before we reach them. Keep the pace we have now, and see if you can get your people ready." (Only thing we can do,) Agrias did not say. Her voice soft, she asked Ramza. "How is your injury?"
Plainly, he replied, "My arm is healed, but I can't use a bow for some time."
(At least he's not apologizing for it,) Agrias thought. "Do what you are able," she told him.
"I can ride," he told her. After giving her a small nod, Ramza made his chocobo slow down and turned around to face the rear guard trio of Lionel soldiers, as well as the others in his group. Gesturing, he indicated for them to form up and get ready for a briefing and preparation.
The briefing, there was none: get ready for a fight. The preparation: same difference, get ready, there is no real plan. Before leaving Zaland, everyone had prepared themselves for action. Even though they couldn't fight when mounted, the chocobos would serve to augment their mobility as well as serve as a back up, should it come to that.
(Should it come to that. . .) Agrias pondered, her instinct telling her that there was a battle up ahead. "I can ride. . ." she repeated softly, to herself, before her eyes lit up in realization. Afraid suddenly, she looked towards Ramza, who had taken the riderless Windfall with him. (No. . . you won't do that. . . you can't.)
Agrias' inner doubts just laughed at her. (But. . . you promised,) she thought, confused, duty and emotions beginning to conflict.
***
Time flew as their chocobos walked them ever closer to the base of the hill. The van and the rear guard had turned into the flanks, as the geomancer took his two mounted archers to the right, and his remaining archer took the two squires to the left. Appropriately, at the sides of the hill, were a single mounted mage each from the opposing group.
The all-too-familiar horned bandanas spelled a sense of doom, punctuated by the three armored swordsmen -knights for all intents and purposes and two archers -all of whom also on chocobo, holding the hill itself. Agrias wondered if the posturing was a trap. (Why are the summoners at that flank?) Agrias pondered, wondering if the enemy commander was brilliant, or an ass.
Her worse fears were realized. The entire enemy group showed an ease in the saddle that hinted at expertise.
"Cavalry," Ramza told her as they reached the base of the hill. "Even the summoner women know how to ride."
"Cavalry mages? Never ran into any of those. . ."
"There was never a demand," Ramza replied. "Too fragile for the field." Agrias was unsettled by the almost-eager light in his eyes, his 'innocent' face possessing a dark edge now, turning from pleasant to stoic.
His assessment sealed her decision. A fight was obvious. Even if Agrias ordered her people to run, they would be caught. These 'bandits' were too well equipped to be mere mercenaries. All that was missing from their clothing and equipment were noble crests. For a moment she thought they were the Hokuten, until the head 'knight' rode down halfway the hill and addressed them.
"I don't know who you are," he addressed them confidently. Drawing his sword he pointed over past her left shoulder. "Leave the boy with us!" he demanded.
As Ramza took an audible breath -a growl, not a gasp, Agrias understood. She did not look over her shoulder to where the 'knight' pointed to know it was Mustadio they wanted. Agrias damned the pledge made towards the mechanic.
"We don't want to fight!" the man continued, challenging them. "Hand Mustadio over and there won't be any trouble, ok?" he finished, almost imperious.
Ramza lead his chocobo to the fore, with Windfall in tow. Mustadio followed, stopping his chocobo several paces to the left with Ramza. On the young mechanic's face was a look of terror mixed with defiance; resistance towards those who wanted him, and fear at the possible rejection of those who would shelter him.
Keeping herself calm as she denied the man's claim, Agrias spoke loud, the anger in her voice more feigned that it was real. "Why don't you leave quietly!" she demanded in return. "Tell Rudvich we'll fight anyone who tries to use war to sway the people!"
The 'knight' was taken aback, confused as the name of his employer was disclosed by his prey. He immediately turned his chocobo around and began to go up the hill. Agrias realized as the other 'knights' also readied their chocobos, that the man was going to charge downhill and trample them.
On the right flank herself, Agrias had left Ovelia behind, guarded by Alicia and Lavian.
"Then I guess we take him by force!" the 'knight' yelled from uphill. "Here goes!" he cried, turning his chocobo and adjusting himself in the saddle, willed his mount to charge.
***
True to form, Ramza was the first to go forwards. Leaning into his chocobo, he directed his mount to charge up hill, parallel to the enemy bearing down upon them all.
Agrias had made her decision before it came to this point. As Alicia and Lavian retreated with the princess, she moved forwards to cover Ramza. This time she had a reason to get involved. Like it or not, Mustadio was under Princess Ovelia's hospitality.
Surprising the first of those charging downhill, Ramza bypassed the man-at-arms, instead making a beeline straight for the mounted archers already taking aim from where they were perched on their chocobos. The hesitation the man-at-arms displayed gave Agrias the opening she wanted. As the two archers up hill fire their ranging shots, striking near her, either marking her as their target, or calibrating their shooting, Agrias targeted the one who had made the demands, the one who hesitated. Rather, as the man turned his chocobo around, Agrias had decided to target the animal he rode upon.
Feeling for the chocobo's presence, Agrias said in her mind, (The devil's spirit of restlessness. . . Split Punch!) Even as Agrias pointed her sword at the animal, the attack did emanate from her blade, but instead the air around the chocobo warped before compressing, hammering the chocobo.
It was enough to send the chocobo tumbling. Since it was already charging downhill, the chocobo began to roll forwards, and along with it, rolled its rider. The man let out a cry that was cut short as his head struck the rocky terrain, his neck bent by the Chocobo's rolling mass.
Agrias did not even stop to consider her dead foe, instead focusing on supporting Ramza.
Undeclared, it was the two of them that would go after the conventional elements on the hill while the split group Lionel soldiers, who had taken the flanks, would engage the mounted summoners.
Agrias would have considered such division in the face of the enemy suicide had the situation been presented to her in a questioning manner. Charging uphill, there was no retreat from that, while the Lionel soldiers could simply break and spread out, hoping to focus the summoner's efforts on as few of them as possible. (I'm committed to this,) Agrias thought, trying to dispel her doubts.
It was too late to pray for audacity, aggression, and the ability to take the initiative would decide the battle for the two of them.
Fatalistically, as the archers' next volley barely missed her, falling short and falling high, Agrias thought to herself, (At least they'll spare the princess. . . they're only after the boy. . .)
Her chocobo was nervous, only continuing forwards, but conditioning was beginning to lose against the fear of being fired at, almost of being hunted. Agrias wondered briefly if she would share the fate of the man she had just downed.
***
Ramza saw Windfall take a shot at the archers, forcing them to flee, but their reactionary volley forced the chocobo to glide off the hill, to the left flank; Ramza was alone now.
From Ramza's perspective, the battle had given him a quickening. His sense of awareness was heightened, as his presence of mind almost began to exceed his body, which began to feel sluggish, as if the still air around him was now acting as a restrictive fluid, almost as thick as water.
He did not fool himself. He knew that time flowed normally, that while he was more aware, his body was just as slow. Keeping his excitement to himself, Ramza only willed his chocobo to charge harder, leaning forwards to put his momentum where it would serve him, giving him a shorter silhouette as well as making his chocobo and himself more stable as they continued to surge uphill.
Ramza noticed the sky begin to change and he heard the crackle of thunder as he saw the apparition of a massive old man with a cane unleashed his wrath upon some miserable targets below. Knowing that he could not help them, Ramza only continued forwards, bringing all of his attention to his current opponents and their actions.
The second armored rider ignored him, as did the third one who rode in his partner's wake. Ramza exploited that as Ramza cut across the hill, knowing that Agrias would be mowed down in the two's approach. Unable to catch up with the second man, Ramza opted to engage the third, and again. At the man's rear, the armored rider could not turn and fight him unless he risked losing control and tumbling down the hillside. As he hesitated, Ramza thrust his sword forwards, digging his blade deep into the man's chocobo. Again, the chocobo died, sending its rider rolling down the hillside. The man was alive at that point, but would not be by the time his body reached the foot of the hill.
Armor protected one from physical impact, so long as it wasn't your own body that was being the hammer upon the anvil that was the rough terrain.
The second man hadn't noticed, but Ramza chose not to pursue, instead trying to work up to the same momentum he had as he begun his initial charge.
It didn't matter if the second 'knight' died if Agrias and him died because of the archers up above. A point that was reinforced in Ramza's mind as Agrias scream reached his ears. Ramza did not ignore her cries. If anything, it added more clarity to his mind, allowing him to focus as much of his anger on those who had hurt her.
***
Agrias just stared as Ramza continued upwards, wondering how she would take the one he had let go as he bore down upon her. Numbly, the arrow embedded in her upper right chest causing her agony, Agrias prepared herself to meet the man's blow, trying to ride to the right of a tree, praying the obstacle would force the man to lose his momentum as he turned to engage her.
It was then that she noticed, as she tried to lift her sword, that the strength in that arm was gone. As she lost her grip, Agrias noticed that she could see the hatred in her opponent's eyes. Dimly, she raised her shield, as if that alone would save her.
***
As two arrows, hastily fired in his direction came past him, Ramza knew that he had been too late. He committed himself to fulfilling his objective: to annihilate the archers uphill. He knew what had happened to Agrias, but Ramza knew it was pointless to worry at this point. What he could help, he would accomplish, what he wouldn't, he would mourn at a later time. Right now was the time to minimize the amount of lamentation, regret, and sorrow he would feel after the battle was over, win or die.
The two archers chose to turn away, abandoning their post at the crest of the hill to flee as he closed upon them; they would not have had the time to let loose another volley before he was upon them, and there were only two ways down the cubical hill: through the opposite side, or through Ramza. He had a sword, they only had daggers as reserves.
Mercilessly, Ramza pursued. He felt a small release as he heard the familiar loud report of Mustadio's weapon reach the hilltop he now rode through. Ramza prayed for the first time in over a year.
***
Agrias scarcely hesitated as she saw the man who was about to slay her crumple in the saddle. As the swing of his weapon lost power and became predictable, Agrias easily parried his sword, working through her pain to smite her opponent, backhanding him with her shield, knocking him off the ground.
Startled, Agrias was fortunate that her feet were no longer on the stirrups as the fallen's man chocobo took revenge for its master.
***
It was a slaughter at that point for Ramza. Panicking, the enemy archers had tried to flee. They were skilled riders, but they did not push their chocobo to the limits Ramza now exhorted his mount.
The pursuit was without guilt, without mercy, and without remorse.
The first archer was run through the back with a series of shallow stabs, his chocobo dragging the corpse by the boots still hooked onto the chocobo's stirrups. Ramza did not finish his series of jabs until the man's head touched the ground. The second archer had turned, discarding his bow, presumably to offer surrender as Ramza decapitated him and his chocobo in one sweep. It was not a clean cut for either rider or chocobo as gravity tore the remaining skin of their necks.
Grimly, Ramza did not study the cadavers he had created. He had intended to slay and he slew. Now he would leave the slain behind. He had care only for those still on this mortal plane.
He was long since tired of the demands the dead placed on the living.
(Mustadio's protecting her,) Ramza rationalized, before returning to the crest of the hill to survey the rest of the battle. First though, he spared a look downhill.
***
Agrias kneeled in the shadow of the tree that she had used to save her life. In the shade, she shivered. At her feet lay the corpse of the second rider's chocobo. As the chocobo tried to protect its master, her own chocobo had come to her aid, engaging the other bird. What followed was the real version of a bloodsport banned in Ivalice. Resorting to their talons, the two chocobos went at each other, almost taking into the air as they used their massive talons to claw the other to death. Agrias had taken the fallen man's sword and lunged forwards, finding the opening she needed, stabbing the chocobo's body through its wing.
Now she lay under the shade of her tree, not even cringing as she heard Mustadio fire another shot, in another direction, to her right. She was already shivering.
She focused now on the fastest healing spell she knew, enveloping both her and her chocobo, who sported its own set of wounds. Fortunately, the arrow had not embedded itself deep, the pain greater than the damage, Agrias hoped.
Somberly, her chocobo assisted her again, casting its own curative spell, draping its unwounded left wing over hear.
As it cooed to soothe her, Agrias found that she could not really receive the chocobo's sympathy. Not after what she had done. It made her hate herself. (I feel remorse for killing a bird, but not a human. . .) she wondered. (Duty before compassion,) she told herself, wondering if she would repeat it as a mantra.
Looking up, she saw Ramza reach the crest of the hill from the other side. She prayed that he would not surprise her and turn around, perhaps to display an arrow embedded in his back, just before he- (Stop that!) Agrias raged.
The distance was not that great now that their part of the battle was over. What seemed like eternity's length seemed so insignificant. She could see his face, looking back down at her.
The impassive expression he had scared her as it always had, even as his eyes softened upon seeing her. For a moment, Agrias wondered if she saw what those who stood against him faced.
Weakly, she tried to wave back, but already his attention was elsewhere. Accepting that as him fulfilling his duty, Agrias let Ramza be, thinking that he was unharmed, wondering now about the others.
She had seen the flashes, heard the loud noises caused by the summoners' casting, but she had not viewed the effects. Agrias noticed something as she tried to get a grasp of the situation from where she was sheltered:
The silence was deafening.
***
"They stay as they lay. . ." Agrias said plainly, knowing what Ramza would tell them, as Alicia and Lavian came up to them worriedly. Agrias felt some sympathy for them. Thrusting oneself upon the abyss was difficult, but watching someone else do so without you being able to do anything had its own share of torment.
The quicker they left here and found reinforcements, the better. If the enemy had reserves, they would've been foolish not to have used them.
Everyone still living assembled, the butcher's bill was tallied.
One summoner was slain, the other captured wounded -she had surrendered, but the Lionel troops had taken considerable casualties. The survivor was bound, stripped of the magical robes she wore, and silenced by herbs so that she could not cast.
The mages were fragile, a single arrow being enough to dispatch each one, but they had taken Lionel soldiers with them to the next realm. No one questioned why one woman's corpse had been mutilated by one of the dead squires' swords, even though the only survivor from that group was an archer. Not a single query was asked as the archer came back, leading the surviving chocobo from that group, his arms blooded to the elbows, and gore having been spattered across his front.
The geomancer's section had lost one of its two archers, before Windfall and Mustadio had caused her to drop her staff as she was dropped by the choco ball that struck her in the leg.
The two squires and archer died with their chocobos, instantly slain by the sheer destructive power of the summoned monsters called upon by the summoners.
It was no surprise that Agrias was the only one with wounds. Those on the receiving end of a summoner's wrath rarely survived the encounter.
Ovelia simply stared, having forced herself to watch the small bloodbath that had transpired before her; a conflict and a butchering of humans and chocobo caused by her decision to protect a boy. Her conviction was never in question, but Ovelia had a little more of her innocence and belief burned out of her.
As Agrias' wound was being attended to, Ramza signaled the group to move ahead, the geomancer forming up the van with his two surviving archers, Mustadio and Windfall taking the rear.
He turned his attention back to the corpses now, wondering what their remains -belongings, would reveal to him. He took a spare chocobo from the dead mercenaries, the one that had belonged to the slain summoner. Putting sensibilities aside, Ramza knew it was stupid to leave so much arms behind on the field. It wasn't like Orbonne Monastery, where he knew someone he could trust would secure the equipment.
***
Their pace had slowed considerably. Everyone, chocobos included, were exhausted. It was slow to the point where everyone but Ovelia had dismounted and were leading the giant birds as they walked to the next waypoint.
Ramza was with Agrias, who had taken a single look at the equipment he had gathered and shunned him.
Everyone was stressed, physically, and now, as they had opportunity to fall back on thoughts and emotions not related to killing and survival, began to tear themselves apart from the inside. Truth be told, he did not mind having her angry at him. (The more she hates me, the less she hates herself,) Ramza rationalized, wondering why he did not believe himself.
"Lionel soldiers," Agrias and Ramza announced simultaneously, spotting the banner approaching them in the distance.
"Reinforcements," the geomancer grunted indifferently. "They must have seen Ramuh. . ."
***
"Follow us, the posting house is just an hour's ride away." the lancer leading the group of cavalry that had gone to investigate told them.
Lavian had taken the initative and given the man their traveling papers.
"Ah. . . we'll see to this," the armored lancer told them, his eyes widening as he recognized the princess. "You can tell the commander what happened when we get to the posting house. Its alright now. . ." he said without conviction.
Ramza looked towards Agrias as the woman kept silent, an expression of anger marring her façade.
***
Ramza looked upon the new batch of soldiers escorting them. A real cavalry complement this time. Four lancers with four archers. He had always known that bowmen and spearmen had an easier time on a chocobo than swordsmen. Knights were strong on the ground, but on chocobo, the archers and lancers dominated them.
Again, he looked towards Agrias, who was quietly riding alongside Ovelia. (If I feel that we could've done something by requesting a larger escort, even if we had no reason to expect someone to come after Mustadio so blatantly, what is she experiencing?)
***
The journey to the posting house was quiet, and the geomancer excused himself as soon as they got there, moving off to report.
It was stupefying to see how the Lionel soldiers were acting.
The lancer that lead them there had sent an archer racing ahead to deliver some of the news, and before Agrias' group had arrived, an outbound contingency of troops had passed them, with them a cart towed by two oversize chocobo.
"Meat wagon. . ." Alicia had murmured.
***
New chocobos had been swapped out from the ones they had used at Zaland this morning. They were supposed to have bypassed this posting house and delivered the chocobos straight to Lionel Castle, but they had no choice.
The posting house was a fort left over from the war, still having a respectable garrison. The living tenements for the soldiers were built along the wooden walls and the important structures were arrayed in the middle.
Ramza took the captured chocobo he had laden with salvaged equipment to the blacksmith / armory of the 'posting-fort'. He told the man there that he did not want to haggle about prices, that he just wanted to make sure the weapons did not fall into the wrong hands.
"Take the money Ramza," Agrias told him without tone, coming into view. "Ovelia's with Alicia and Lavian," she answered his question before he could voice it. (I've no choice but to trust the soldiers here,) she told him with her eyes.
As Ramza remained silent, the blacksmith gave him a pouch of coins. "Its worth several thousand gils at the least, boy, I'm not questioning you."
Agrias hesitated, wondering if she should leave. Steeling herself, Agrias did as what her duty as a knight and conscience as a person demanded. "I. . . I shouldn't have put any of my problems on you Ramza." She held his gaze with her own. "There's no shame in this. Its just my pride." She walked towards him, uncomfortable as he just stood there, gazing at her. "You deserve this," she told him, "if just for doing the right thing."
She was thankful that the blacksmith had gone and taken some of the items to be examined at a table in the back, able to hear them, but not listening.
"I understand," Ramza told her. "But, if there's anything that I can do to ease your burden. . ."
"Even if I'm the one who's wrong?"
"Until you see the truth or until you allow me to show you my truth."
Some of the sorrow that Agrias felt began to melt. The same regrets she had at the battle -the lack of soldiers to deter an attack, or at least counter those damned summoners, were still there, but problems concerning him were being eased. Instead of politely refusing his statement, Agrias responded with, "Do you mean that?" Her voice held a note of hope, of vulnerability, of confusion.
"Yes," he answered simply.
Agrias reached out to touch him, but she was startled when she realized that they were still clad in armor, a reminder of reality that cut her moment short. Ramza understood why she recoiled. Removing his toughened leather glove, he offered her his right hand. Mirroring the action with her left, Agrias grasped his bare hand with hers. Ignoring the sweat and the accompany smell, Agrias savored the simple physical contact, never questioning it, simply accepting and appreciating the sensations and emotions that flowed between them.
Neither cared that they had shed blood just hours before. Neither was foolish enough to attach false sentiments to the act of killing another. It could never be justified. Yet, one had to live with the aftermath, going on with their existence, doing what they could to live with themselves.
If there was something she needed now asides from absolution from her duties, it was human contact; someone to be there, someone who cared, someone who could offer and deliver what she desired, needed, and enjoyed.
Ramza pointed with his left hand to the stables, and Agrias nodded, walking alongside him. "You want to make sure they get the saddles right this time?" It was a trite statement, but for this evanescent moment, Agrias knew that Ramza was giving her a brief reprieve from duty's mantle, which she understood was necessary for her continued well-being.
"Of course," he replied gently, squeezing her hand softly, shifting his fingers as if to mold them to hers. If it wasn't for the armor they wore, Agrias would've embraced him. The dichotomy the boy represented began to become clearer to her, and Agrias accepted that revelation, yielding to what was becoming harder to deny. With that surrender, she allowed herself to revel in the present besides her cruel angel.
***
At the gates of Lionel Castle, Agrias rode her chocobo to the fore. It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was deep to the west.
The ride there had been easy; a full detachment of mounted soldiers escorted them: a knee-jerk reaction that Agrias had not opposed, even if the chocobo had already fled the barn. There had been little discussion, as the geomancer had been replaced by the lancer who had greeted them.
Agrias still had her left hand bare, grasping her glove in her right hand along with the reins.
On the outer wall of the castle, one of the knights on duty guarding portcullis spoke out. "Who are you?" he asked, "What do you want?"
Mechanically, Agrias fell back on training and protocol. "I'm Agrias Oaks of the St. Konoe Knights," she announced, before following up with the code phrase. "I came from Orbonne to save the son of God, St. Ajora. Open the gate!"
The knight nodded, confirming her identity and her mission. "Saving St. Ajora is the will of the high priest," he replied. "The gate will open for he who will save the high priest. Open the gate!"
The portcullis barring the side entrance to the castle rose; it was only wide enough in the first place to accommodate two riders alongside on chocobo.
As Agrias lead the way through, she wondered about what she felt as she passed the raised metal gate. (Catharsis,) she thought.
***
Agrias had immediately separated herself and Ovelia from the group even as the chocobos they rode were being received by the stable hands.
She was surprised to see the cardinal waiting for her. The man carried himself in a dignified manner, noble in his casual and perceptive appearance. One could almost see mischief in his eyes. Where he was once a war hero of Lionel, now he was a member of the clergy, having turned from the art of war to the art of salvation.
"Princess Ovelia," the old man told them, approaching the dismounted girl, "I welcome you." Agrias was not surprised when Draclau did not kneel before Ovelia, dipping his head forwards instead: the Church did not bow to the crown. No matter how allegiant Draclau was to the Atskascha line, duty to St. Ajora and the people in his station exceeded royal protocol. As the Church was to have no authority over the crown, so the crown would have no authority over the Church. The nod was symbolic of the almost-peer relationship between Church and State. As to why Draclau was in command of Lionel, he was serving the people, by extension providing service to Ivalice, not the crown alone.
"Cardinal Draclau," Ovelia smoothly replied, her smile not reaching her eyes. She had seen too much that day to feel true relief, only resignation. "I appreciate your kindness."
Draclau nodded, gesturing with his left hand to enter. The robes he wore were that of a churchman's, not a noble's. "Please, we have much to discuss, but first, let me offer you my hospitality. I understand that your trip was strenuous," he said gently, letting them know subtly that he had received information -from Agrias' message or otherwise, about their situation. "We will discuss your state visit -highness after you had a chance to rest. Please, you may rest easy now."
Somehow, with those words, the burden Agrias had felt for the seemingly-eternal torment that was the last five days began to disappear.
Ovelia's safety had yet to be assured, but Agrias now felt that responsibility was being taken from her hands: unstable, frail, and all-too- human.
***
***Author's Notes***
I'd understand if a lot of people didn't understand the subtler things in this scene. After all, it went from a battle scene to a rather 'romantic' (I don't know what else to classify it as) sequence. Nothing kinky implied, simply that Agrias is finally coming to terms with the dual purpose she serves as a Holy Knight, and the abolition of the self-hatred she has come to acquire because of duty.
Ramza so much of a killer? I'd simply call it being efficient. Partially its because that's the angle I'm portraying him as. He may be a wuss, but the art of war has pretty much been bred (by birth) and ingrained (by the academy) into him. There would be no way that he would survive in the world if he grieved or regretted those he slew. Miluda was a different matter. . .
Next up is the scene dealing with what goes on at Lionel Castle for the next two-three days.
BTW, the scene title doesn't refer to Agrias and Ramza's budding relationship (wouldn't that be counter-productive. . .), but how associating Mustadio pulled them into such a fight.
***Author's Notes***
***Readers' Response Corner***
Hm, again, I have to ask you people, what do you think of Agrias? Or Ramza? Of the two of them together?
Pardon the irregularity of the updates, and it'll continue until around January or some time past that.
Not much else to say, except that I'm a little surprised that you actually find my half-assed battle scenes a good read. My main intent with this fic is the character-character emotional interaction and development. . . hope I haven't failed that motive.
For the lovers of battles out there. the next scene is devoid of them, and I've just noticed. it's the first time the characters could actually take time to clean themselves (they've been in the field-on-and- off for five days). Not that I was considering writing a bath scene involving Agrias, Ovelia, Alicia, and Lavian. *cough*
***Readers' Response Corner***
Well, here's the battle scene that's due. Prepare to be disappointed, seeing as it isn't my main focus.
***Author's Notes***
Chapter 02-08 "Senseless Involvement" (Chapter Two: The Manipulator and the Subservient, Scene 08)
***
***January 5th, Year 2. Bariaus Hill***
The riders that have been waiting for Agrias' group had been visible for several minutes now. Like her own people, they too rode on chocobo. Atop the jagged crest of the cubic hill, the riders' posturing indicated that they were waiting for her group specifically.
After first spotting them, the geomancer leading the escort doubled back from the van and asked her, "If you wish, my people can slow them down. . ."
"That's not an option," Ramza told him, clucking his chocobo forwards to pace the leaders. "If you can't take them by yourselves, they are bound to catch with us."
"What's wrong?" Ovelia asked, chiming in, wincing as she shaded her eyes and tried to take a better look at the foreboding hill. They were already in the southern highlands of Lionel, and hill it may be, it did dominate the flat terrain atop the ridge they were on.
"There's someone waiting for us," Agrias told her, being blunt. "We can't get around them." Leaning forwards to address the geomancer, she told him, "There's still some time before we reach them. Keep the pace we have now, and see if you can get your people ready." (Only thing we can do,) Agrias did not say. Her voice soft, she asked Ramza. "How is your injury?"
Plainly, he replied, "My arm is healed, but I can't use a bow for some time."
(At least he's not apologizing for it,) Agrias thought. "Do what you are able," she told him.
"I can ride," he told her. After giving her a small nod, Ramza made his chocobo slow down and turned around to face the rear guard trio of Lionel soldiers, as well as the others in his group. Gesturing, he indicated for them to form up and get ready for a briefing and preparation.
The briefing, there was none: get ready for a fight. The preparation: same difference, get ready, there is no real plan. Before leaving Zaland, everyone had prepared themselves for action. Even though they couldn't fight when mounted, the chocobos would serve to augment their mobility as well as serve as a back up, should it come to that.
(Should it come to that. . .) Agrias pondered, her instinct telling her that there was a battle up ahead. "I can ride. . ." she repeated softly, to herself, before her eyes lit up in realization. Afraid suddenly, she looked towards Ramza, who had taken the riderless Windfall with him. (No. . . you won't do that. . . you can't.)
Agrias' inner doubts just laughed at her. (But. . . you promised,) she thought, confused, duty and emotions beginning to conflict.
***
Time flew as their chocobos walked them ever closer to the base of the hill. The van and the rear guard had turned into the flanks, as the geomancer took his two mounted archers to the right, and his remaining archer took the two squires to the left. Appropriately, at the sides of the hill, were a single mounted mage each from the opposing group.
The all-too-familiar horned bandanas spelled a sense of doom, punctuated by the three armored swordsmen -knights for all intents and purposes and two archers -all of whom also on chocobo, holding the hill itself. Agrias wondered if the posturing was a trap. (Why are the summoners at that flank?) Agrias pondered, wondering if the enemy commander was brilliant, or an ass.
Her worse fears were realized. The entire enemy group showed an ease in the saddle that hinted at expertise.
"Cavalry," Ramza told her as they reached the base of the hill. "Even the summoner women know how to ride."
"Cavalry mages? Never ran into any of those. . ."
"There was never a demand," Ramza replied. "Too fragile for the field." Agrias was unsettled by the almost-eager light in his eyes, his 'innocent' face possessing a dark edge now, turning from pleasant to stoic.
His assessment sealed her decision. A fight was obvious. Even if Agrias ordered her people to run, they would be caught. These 'bandits' were too well equipped to be mere mercenaries. All that was missing from their clothing and equipment were noble crests. For a moment she thought they were the Hokuten, until the head 'knight' rode down halfway the hill and addressed them.
"I don't know who you are," he addressed them confidently. Drawing his sword he pointed over past her left shoulder. "Leave the boy with us!" he demanded.
As Ramza took an audible breath -a growl, not a gasp, Agrias understood. She did not look over her shoulder to where the 'knight' pointed to know it was Mustadio they wanted. Agrias damned the pledge made towards the mechanic.
"We don't want to fight!" the man continued, challenging them. "Hand Mustadio over and there won't be any trouble, ok?" he finished, almost imperious.
Ramza lead his chocobo to the fore, with Windfall in tow. Mustadio followed, stopping his chocobo several paces to the left with Ramza. On the young mechanic's face was a look of terror mixed with defiance; resistance towards those who wanted him, and fear at the possible rejection of those who would shelter him.
Keeping herself calm as she denied the man's claim, Agrias spoke loud, the anger in her voice more feigned that it was real. "Why don't you leave quietly!" she demanded in return. "Tell Rudvich we'll fight anyone who tries to use war to sway the people!"
The 'knight' was taken aback, confused as the name of his employer was disclosed by his prey. He immediately turned his chocobo around and began to go up the hill. Agrias realized as the other 'knights' also readied their chocobos, that the man was going to charge downhill and trample them.
On the right flank herself, Agrias had left Ovelia behind, guarded by Alicia and Lavian.
"Then I guess we take him by force!" the 'knight' yelled from uphill. "Here goes!" he cried, turning his chocobo and adjusting himself in the saddle, willed his mount to charge.
***
True to form, Ramza was the first to go forwards. Leaning into his chocobo, he directed his mount to charge up hill, parallel to the enemy bearing down upon them all.
Agrias had made her decision before it came to this point. As Alicia and Lavian retreated with the princess, she moved forwards to cover Ramza. This time she had a reason to get involved. Like it or not, Mustadio was under Princess Ovelia's hospitality.
Surprising the first of those charging downhill, Ramza bypassed the man-at-arms, instead making a beeline straight for the mounted archers already taking aim from where they were perched on their chocobos. The hesitation the man-at-arms displayed gave Agrias the opening she wanted. As the two archers up hill fire their ranging shots, striking near her, either marking her as their target, or calibrating their shooting, Agrias targeted the one who had made the demands, the one who hesitated. Rather, as the man turned his chocobo around, Agrias had decided to target the animal he rode upon.
Feeling for the chocobo's presence, Agrias said in her mind, (The devil's spirit of restlessness. . . Split Punch!) Even as Agrias pointed her sword at the animal, the attack did emanate from her blade, but instead the air around the chocobo warped before compressing, hammering the chocobo.
It was enough to send the chocobo tumbling. Since it was already charging downhill, the chocobo began to roll forwards, and along with it, rolled its rider. The man let out a cry that was cut short as his head struck the rocky terrain, his neck bent by the Chocobo's rolling mass.
Agrias did not even stop to consider her dead foe, instead focusing on supporting Ramza.
Undeclared, it was the two of them that would go after the conventional elements on the hill while the split group Lionel soldiers, who had taken the flanks, would engage the mounted summoners.
Agrias would have considered such division in the face of the enemy suicide had the situation been presented to her in a questioning manner. Charging uphill, there was no retreat from that, while the Lionel soldiers could simply break and spread out, hoping to focus the summoner's efforts on as few of them as possible. (I'm committed to this,) Agrias thought, trying to dispel her doubts.
It was too late to pray for audacity, aggression, and the ability to take the initiative would decide the battle for the two of them.
Fatalistically, as the archers' next volley barely missed her, falling short and falling high, Agrias thought to herself, (At least they'll spare the princess. . . they're only after the boy. . .)
Her chocobo was nervous, only continuing forwards, but conditioning was beginning to lose against the fear of being fired at, almost of being hunted. Agrias wondered briefly if she would share the fate of the man she had just downed.
***
Ramza saw Windfall take a shot at the archers, forcing them to flee, but their reactionary volley forced the chocobo to glide off the hill, to the left flank; Ramza was alone now.
From Ramza's perspective, the battle had given him a quickening. His sense of awareness was heightened, as his presence of mind almost began to exceed his body, which began to feel sluggish, as if the still air around him was now acting as a restrictive fluid, almost as thick as water.
He did not fool himself. He knew that time flowed normally, that while he was more aware, his body was just as slow. Keeping his excitement to himself, Ramza only willed his chocobo to charge harder, leaning forwards to put his momentum where it would serve him, giving him a shorter silhouette as well as making his chocobo and himself more stable as they continued to surge uphill.
Ramza noticed the sky begin to change and he heard the crackle of thunder as he saw the apparition of a massive old man with a cane unleashed his wrath upon some miserable targets below. Knowing that he could not help them, Ramza only continued forwards, bringing all of his attention to his current opponents and their actions.
The second armored rider ignored him, as did the third one who rode in his partner's wake. Ramza exploited that as Ramza cut across the hill, knowing that Agrias would be mowed down in the two's approach. Unable to catch up with the second man, Ramza opted to engage the third, and again. At the man's rear, the armored rider could not turn and fight him unless he risked losing control and tumbling down the hillside. As he hesitated, Ramza thrust his sword forwards, digging his blade deep into the man's chocobo. Again, the chocobo died, sending its rider rolling down the hillside. The man was alive at that point, but would not be by the time his body reached the foot of the hill.
Armor protected one from physical impact, so long as it wasn't your own body that was being the hammer upon the anvil that was the rough terrain.
The second man hadn't noticed, but Ramza chose not to pursue, instead trying to work up to the same momentum he had as he begun his initial charge.
It didn't matter if the second 'knight' died if Agrias and him died because of the archers up above. A point that was reinforced in Ramza's mind as Agrias scream reached his ears. Ramza did not ignore her cries. If anything, it added more clarity to his mind, allowing him to focus as much of his anger on those who had hurt her.
***
Agrias just stared as Ramza continued upwards, wondering how she would take the one he had let go as he bore down upon her. Numbly, the arrow embedded in her upper right chest causing her agony, Agrias prepared herself to meet the man's blow, trying to ride to the right of a tree, praying the obstacle would force the man to lose his momentum as he turned to engage her.
It was then that she noticed, as she tried to lift her sword, that the strength in that arm was gone. As she lost her grip, Agrias noticed that she could see the hatred in her opponent's eyes. Dimly, she raised her shield, as if that alone would save her.
***
As two arrows, hastily fired in his direction came past him, Ramza knew that he had been too late. He committed himself to fulfilling his objective: to annihilate the archers uphill. He knew what had happened to Agrias, but Ramza knew it was pointless to worry at this point. What he could help, he would accomplish, what he wouldn't, he would mourn at a later time. Right now was the time to minimize the amount of lamentation, regret, and sorrow he would feel after the battle was over, win or die.
The two archers chose to turn away, abandoning their post at the crest of the hill to flee as he closed upon them; they would not have had the time to let loose another volley before he was upon them, and there were only two ways down the cubical hill: through the opposite side, or through Ramza. He had a sword, they only had daggers as reserves.
Mercilessly, Ramza pursued. He felt a small release as he heard the familiar loud report of Mustadio's weapon reach the hilltop he now rode through. Ramza prayed for the first time in over a year.
***
Agrias scarcely hesitated as she saw the man who was about to slay her crumple in the saddle. As the swing of his weapon lost power and became predictable, Agrias easily parried his sword, working through her pain to smite her opponent, backhanding him with her shield, knocking him off the ground.
Startled, Agrias was fortunate that her feet were no longer on the stirrups as the fallen's man chocobo took revenge for its master.
***
It was a slaughter at that point for Ramza. Panicking, the enemy archers had tried to flee. They were skilled riders, but they did not push their chocobo to the limits Ramza now exhorted his mount.
The pursuit was without guilt, without mercy, and without remorse.
The first archer was run through the back with a series of shallow stabs, his chocobo dragging the corpse by the boots still hooked onto the chocobo's stirrups. Ramza did not finish his series of jabs until the man's head touched the ground. The second archer had turned, discarding his bow, presumably to offer surrender as Ramza decapitated him and his chocobo in one sweep. It was not a clean cut for either rider or chocobo as gravity tore the remaining skin of their necks.
Grimly, Ramza did not study the cadavers he had created. He had intended to slay and he slew. Now he would leave the slain behind. He had care only for those still on this mortal plane.
He was long since tired of the demands the dead placed on the living.
(Mustadio's protecting her,) Ramza rationalized, before returning to the crest of the hill to survey the rest of the battle. First though, he spared a look downhill.
***
Agrias kneeled in the shadow of the tree that she had used to save her life. In the shade, she shivered. At her feet lay the corpse of the second rider's chocobo. As the chocobo tried to protect its master, her own chocobo had come to her aid, engaging the other bird. What followed was the real version of a bloodsport banned in Ivalice. Resorting to their talons, the two chocobos went at each other, almost taking into the air as they used their massive talons to claw the other to death. Agrias had taken the fallen man's sword and lunged forwards, finding the opening she needed, stabbing the chocobo's body through its wing.
Now she lay under the shade of her tree, not even cringing as she heard Mustadio fire another shot, in another direction, to her right. She was already shivering.
She focused now on the fastest healing spell she knew, enveloping both her and her chocobo, who sported its own set of wounds. Fortunately, the arrow had not embedded itself deep, the pain greater than the damage, Agrias hoped.
Somberly, her chocobo assisted her again, casting its own curative spell, draping its unwounded left wing over hear.
As it cooed to soothe her, Agrias found that she could not really receive the chocobo's sympathy. Not after what she had done. It made her hate herself. (I feel remorse for killing a bird, but not a human. . .) she wondered. (Duty before compassion,) she told herself, wondering if she would repeat it as a mantra.
Looking up, she saw Ramza reach the crest of the hill from the other side. She prayed that he would not surprise her and turn around, perhaps to display an arrow embedded in his back, just before he- (Stop that!) Agrias raged.
The distance was not that great now that their part of the battle was over. What seemed like eternity's length seemed so insignificant. She could see his face, looking back down at her.
The impassive expression he had scared her as it always had, even as his eyes softened upon seeing her. For a moment, Agrias wondered if she saw what those who stood against him faced.
Weakly, she tried to wave back, but already his attention was elsewhere. Accepting that as him fulfilling his duty, Agrias let Ramza be, thinking that he was unharmed, wondering now about the others.
She had seen the flashes, heard the loud noises caused by the summoners' casting, but she had not viewed the effects. Agrias noticed something as she tried to get a grasp of the situation from where she was sheltered:
The silence was deafening.
***
"They stay as they lay. . ." Agrias said plainly, knowing what Ramza would tell them, as Alicia and Lavian came up to them worriedly. Agrias felt some sympathy for them. Thrusting oneself upon the abyss was difficult, but watching someone else do so without you being able to do anything had its own share of torment.
The quicker they left here and found reinforcements, the better. If the enemy had reserves, they would've been foolish not to have used them.
Everyone still living assembled, the butcher's bill was tallied.
One summoner was slain, the other captured wounded -she had surrendered, but the Lionel troops had taken considerable casualties. The survivor was bound, stripped of the magical robes she wore, and silenced by herbs so that she could not cast.
The mages were fragile, a single arrow being enough to dispatch each one, but they had taken Lionel soldiers with them to the next realm. No one questioned why one woman's corpse had been mutilated by one of the dead squires' swords, even though the only survivor from that group was an archer. Not a single query was asked as the archer came back, leading the surviving chocobo from that group, his arms blooded to the elbows, and gore having been spattered across his front.
The geomancer's section had lost one of its two archers, before Windfall and Mustadio had caused her to drop her staff as she was dropped by the choco ball that struck her in the leg.
The two squires and archer died with their chocobos, instantly slain by the sheer destructive power of the summoned monsters called upon by the summoners.
It was no surprise that Agrias was the only one with wounds. Those on the receiving end of a summoner's wrath rarely survived the encounter.
Ovelia simply stared, having forced herself to watch the small bloodbath that had transpired before her; a conflict and a butchering of humans and chocobo caused by her decision to protect a boy. Her conviction was never in question, but Ovelia had a little more of her innocence and belief burned out of her.
As Agrias' wound was being attended to, Ramza signaled the group to move ahead, the geomancer forming up the van with his two surviving archers, Mustadio and Windfall taking the rear.
He turned his attention back to the corpses now, wondering what their remains -belongings, would reveal to him. He took a spare chocobo from the dead mercenaries, the one that had belonged to the slain summoner. Putting sensibilities aside, Ramza knew it was stupid to leave so much arms behind on the field. It wasn't like Orbonne Monastery, where he knew someone he could trust would secure the equipment.
***
Their pace had slowed considerably. Everyone, chocobos included, were exhausted. It was slow to the point where everyone but Ovelia had dismounted and were leading the giant birds as they walked to the next waypoint.
Ramza was with Agrias, who had taken a single look at the equipment he had gathered and shunned him.
Everyone was stressed, physically, and now, as they had opportunity to fall back on thoughts and emotions not related to killing and survival, began to tear themselves apart from the inside. Truth be told, he did not mind having her angry at him. (The more she hates me, the less she hates herself,) Ramza rationalized, wondering why he did not believe himself.
"Lionel soldiers," Agrias and Ramza announced simultaneously, spotting the banner approaching them in the distance.
"Reinforcements," the geomancer grunted indifferently. "They must have seen Ramuh. . ."
***
"Follow us, the posting house is just an hour's ride away." the lancer leading the group of cavalry that had gone to investigate told them.
Lavian had taken the initative and given the man their traveling papers.
"Ah. . . we'll see to this," the armored lancer told them, his eyes widening as he recognized the princess. "You can tell the commander what happened when we get to the posting house. Its alright now. . ." he said without conviction.
Ramza looked towards Agrias as the woman kept silent, an expression of anger marring her façade.
***
Ramza looked upon the new batch of soldiers escorting them. A real cavalry complement this time. Four lancers with four archers. He had always known that bowmen and spearmen had an easier time on a chocobo than swordsmen. Knights were strong on the ground, but on chocobo, the archers and lancers dominated them.
Again, he looked towards Agrias, who was quietly riding alongside Ovelia. (If I feel that we could've done something by requesting a larger escort, even if we had no reason to expect someone to come after Mustadio so blatantly, what is she experiencing?)
***
The journey to the posting house was quiet, and the geomancer excused himself as soon as they got there, moving off to report.
It was stupefying to see how the Lionel soldiers were acting.
The lancer that lead them there had sent an archer racing ahead to deliver some of the news, and before Agrias' group had arrived, an outbound contingency of troops had passed them, with them a cart towed by two oversize chocobo.
"Meat wagon. . ." Alicia had murmured.
***
New chocobos had been swapped out from the ones they had used at Zaland this morning. They were supposed to have bypassed this posting house and delivered the chocobos straight to Lionel Castle, but they had no choice.
The posting house was a fort left over from the war, still having a respectable garrison. The living tenements for the soldiers were built along the wooden walls and the important structures were arrayed in the middle.
Ramza took the captured chocobo he had laden with salvaged equipment to the blacksmith / armory of the 'posting-fort'. He told the man there that he did not want to haggle about prices, that he just wanted to make sure the weapons did not fall into the wrong hands.
"Take the money Ramza," Agrias told him without tone, coming into view. "Ovelia's with Alicia and Lavian," she answered his question before he could voice it. (I've no choice but to trust the soldiers here,) she told him with her eyes.
As Ramza remained silent, the blacksmith gave him a pouch of coins. "Its worth several thousand gils at the least, boy, I'm not questioning you."
Agrias hesitated, wondering if she should leave. Steeling herself, Agrias did as what her duty as a knight and conscience as a person demanded. "I. . . I shouldn't have put any of my problems on you Ramza." She held his gaze with her own. "There's no shame in this. Its just my pride." She walked towards him, uncomfortable as he just stood there, gazing at her. "You deserve this," she told him, "if just for doing the right thing."
She was thankful that the blacksmith had gone and taken some of the items to be examined at a table in the back, able to hear them, but not listening.
"I understand," Ramza told her. "But, if there's anything that I can do to ease your burden. . ."
"Even if I'm the one who's wrong?"
"Until you see the truth or until you allow me to show you my truth."
Some of the sorrow that Agrias felt began to melt. The same regrets she had at the battle -the lack of soldiers to deter an attack, or at least counter those damned summoners, were still there, but problems concerning him were being eased. Instead of politely refusing his statement, Agrias responded with, "Do you mean that?" Her voice held a note of hope, of vulnerability, of confusion.
"Yes," he answered simply.
Agrias reached out to touch him, but she was startled when she realized that they were still clad in armor, a reminder of reality that cut her moment short. Ramza understood why she recoiled. Removing his toughened leather glove, he offered her his right hand. Mirroring the action with her left, Agrias grasped his bare hand with hers. Ignoring the sweat and the accompany smell, Agrias savored the simple physical contact, never questioning it, simply accepting and appreciating the sensations and emotions that flowed between them.
Neither cared that they had shed blood just hours before. Neither was foolish enough to attach false sentiments to the act of killing another. It could never be justified. Yet, one had to live with the aftermath, going on with their existence, doing what they could to live with themselves.
If there was something she needed now asides from absolution from her duties, it was human contact; someone to be there, someone who cared, someone who could offer and deliver what she desired, needed, and enjoyed.
Ramza pointed with his left hand to the stables, and Agrias nodded, walking alongside him. "You want to make sure they get the saddles right this time?" It was a trite statement, but for this evanescent moment, Agrias knew that Ramza was giving her a brief reprieve from duty's mantle, which she understood was necessary for her continued well-being.
"Of course," he replied gently, squeezing her hand softly, shifting his fingers as if to mold them to hers. If it wasn't for the armor they wore, Agrias would've embraced him. The dichotomy the boy represented began to become clearer to her, and Agrias accepted that revelation, yielding to what was becoming harder to deny. With that surrender, she allowed herself to revel in the present besides her cruel angel.
***
At the gates of Lionel Castle, Agrias rode her chocobo to the fore. It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was deep to the west.
The ride there had been easy; a full detachment of mounted soldiers escorted them: a knee-jerk reaction that Agrias had not opposed, even if the chocobo had already fled the barn. There had been little discussion, as the geomancer had been replaced by the lancer who had greeted them.
Agrias still had her left hand bare, grasping her glove in her right hand along with the reins.
On the outer wall of the castle, one of the knights on duty guarding portcullis spoke out. "Who are you?" he asked, "What do you want?"
Mechanically, Agrias fell back on training and protocol. "I'm Agrias Oaks of the St. Konoe Knights," she announced, before following up with the code phrase. "I came from Orbonne to save the son of God, St. Ajora. Open the gate!"
The knight nodded, confirming her identity and her mission. "Saving St. Ajora is the will of the high priest," he replied. "The gate will open for he who will save the high priest. Open the gate!"
The portcullis barring the side entrance to the castle rose; it was only wide enough in the first place to accommodate two riders alongside on chocobo.
As Agrias lead the way through, she wondered about what she felt as she passed the raised metal gate. (Catharsis,) she thought.
***
Agrias had immediately separated herself and Ovelia from the group even as the chocobos they rode were being received by the stable hands.
She was surprised to see the cardinal waiting for her. The man carried himself in a dignified manner, noble in his casual and perceptive appearance. One could almost see mischief in his eyes. Where he was once a war hero of Lionel, now he was a member of the clergy, having turned from the art of war to the art of salvation.
"Princess Ovelia," the old man told them, approaching the dismounted girl, "I welcome you." Agrias was not surprised when Draclau did not kneel before Ovelia, dipping his head forwards instead: the Church did not bow to the crown. No matter how allegiant Draclau was to the Atskascha line, duty to St. Ajora and the people in his station exceeded royal protocol. As the Church was to have no authority over the crown, so the crown would have no authority over the Church. The nod was symbolic of the almost-peer relationship between Church and State. As to why Draclau was in command of Lionel, he was serving the people, by extension providing service to Ivalice, not the crown alone.
"Cardinal Draclau," Ovelia smoothly replied, her smile not reaching her eyes. She had seen too much that day to feel true relief, only resignation. "I appreciate your kindness."
Draclau nodded, gesturing with his left hand to enter. The robes he wore were that of a churchman's, not a noble's. "Please, we have much to discuss, but first, let me offer you my hospitality. I understand that your trip was strenuous," he said gently, letting them know subtly that he had received information -from Agrias' message or otherwise, about their situation. "We will discuss your state visit -highness after you had a chance to rest. Please, you may rest easy now."
Somehow, with those words, the burden Agrias had felt for the seemingly-eternal torment that was the last five days began to disappear.
Ovelia's safety had yet to be assured, but Agrias now felt that responsibility was being taken from her hands: unstable, frail, and all-too- human.
***
***Author's Notes***
I'd understand if a lot of people didn't understand the subtler things in this scene. After all, it went from a battle scene to a rather 'romantic' (I don't know what else to classify it as) sequence. Nothing kinky implied, simply that Agrias is finally coming to terms with the dual purpose she serves as a Holy Knight, and the abolition of the self-hatred she has come to acquire because of duty.
Ramza so much of a killer? I'd simply call it being efficient. Partially its because that's the angle I'm portraying him as. He may be a wuss, but the art of war has pretty much been bred (by birth) and ingrained (by the academy) into him. There would be no way that he would survive in the world if he grieved or regretted those he slew. Miluda was a different matter. . .
Next up is the scene dealing with what goes on at Lionel Castle for the next two-three days.
BTW, the scene title doesn't refer to Agrias and Ramza's budding relationship (wouldn't that be counter-productive. . .), but how associating Mustadio pulled them into such a fight.
***Author's Notes***
***Readers' Response Corner***
Hm, again, I have to ask you people, what do you think of Agrias? Or Ramza? Of the two of them together?
Pardon the irregularity of the updates, and it'll continue until around January or some time past that.
Not much else to say, except that I'm a little surprised that you actually find my half-assed battle scenes a good read. My main intent with this fic is the character-character emotional interaction and development. . . hope I haven't failed that motive.
For the lovers of battles out there. the next scene is devoid of them, and I've just noticed. it's the first time the characters could actually take time to clean themselves (they've been in the field-on-and- off for five days). Not that I was considering writing a bath scene involving Agrias, Ovelia, Alicia, and Lavian. *cough*
***Readers' Response Corner***