***Author's Notes***
The point's been raised that I'm incredibly slow when it comes to actual storytime. . . so, the style of this chapter may differ since I am going to try to accelerate the writing a bit before bringing it back down to a reasonable pace.
I detest 'telling' as opposed to 'showing,' but I have to push this story along and yes, I realize that it is getting bogged down into what I've trapped myself in before:
The Chronicle Everything, LITERALLY EVERYTHING That Happens In A 24- Hour Period Dilemma.
I do have to change seeing as the game spans months. . . and I'm not even a week yet into the story. . .
Also, a new format will be introduced. I'm no longer going to be parenthesizing thoughts. It might lead to some confusion, but I think it looks cleaner. . . that sounds awkward.
Also, footnotes will appear in this chapter. For example seeing a (1*) would indicate that there is a note for that selection I would like for you to read (for further clarification of the text) in the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter. It is sequential (1*, 2*, 3*, n*)
***Author's Notes***
Chapter 02-11 "Flickering Hope" (Chapter Two: The Manipulator and the Subservient, Scene 11)
***
The four females found Ramza and Mustadio in the front room of their quarters. The two were sitting at the table, across from each other, already eating. Mustadio continued to spoon soup colored-brown into his maw while Ramza looked up from where he was picking apart a small loaf of bread to give them a welcoming smile.
"Dinner's ready," he told them.
"He's a keeper. . ." Alicia said snidely under her breath. For a moment, Agrias thought she might be elbowed by her subordinate.
Ramza swept his hand towards the head of the table as he stood up from where he sat. Following Ramza's lead, Mustadio also stood.
Bowing her head politely, Ovelia took the position offered with a smile as Mustadio awkwardly pushed her seat in. She had the pleasure of seeing Ramza seat Agrias, who surprising seemed nonchalant.
Seated, now, Agrias found herself where Mustadio was, at Ovelia's right hand, while Ramza had presumptuously taken Ovelia's left, right across from her.
"Thank you, Ramza," Lavian told him.
Silently, the boy nodded.
***
Dinner had been rushed. Ramza was getting tired, and he knew the refreshment from bathing was beginning to fade from everyone. As soon as Mustadio finished his meal, the engineer excused himself.
Ramza had nothing to talk about, nothing of consequence to everyone's collective concern, and nothing that would not inflame them and not cause them to worry over something that was beyond their help.
As arranged, Phillip and Kim came by and picked up their dishes, and Ramza had to smile as the others were surprised that the castle staff already knew him, the insider effect seeming to capture the females' attentions, for better or for worse.
Everyone was getting tired; neither Alicia nor Lavian teased him or Agrias.
***
"Good night lonely-boy," Alicia called out tiredly as she followed Lavian into their shared bedroom.
"Sleep well," Ramza called after Alicia as she closed her door, alone now in the room with the table. True to her word, Agrias and the others had meticulously arranged Ramza's beddings. He found it amusing, seeing as how little they seemed to mind when they were out in the field to sleep in the dirt. Wondering if the 'fairer' sex was like that, Ramza found the topic almost funny.
Ramza stared down and found himself shaking his head at himself. Over the years, he had mellowed down when it came to girls and then to women. However, being in close proximity now, and the fact that none of them wore armor that shattered their femininity, made Ramza a little uncomfortable. Well, a 'good' type of uncomfortable, Ramza thought. Seeing the knights in night clothes again made Ramza feel, well, happy.
Knowing he had nothing else to do but sleep, Ramza slipped into the sandwiching layers of blankets Agrias and her knights had somehow procured from nowhere. Even the last few real beds he'd slept in had not felt this good.
He had blown out the last few candles illuminating in the room, but he left a stub of a candle on the table burning, just so if anyone needed to use the room in the night, they would not trip over anything, especially him.
Ignoring the flickering shadows the meager candle supplied, Ramza stared at the ceiling, wondering what thoughts he would entertain before oblivion claimed him.
***
In her and Ovelia's room, Agrias shared the large bed with Ovelia. Tired as both of them were, both indulged in another activity they had not been able to perform for a long time.
There was an art to keeping their hair healthy, and Agrias didn't consider herself conceited to fiercely maintain one of the few visible aspects of femininity that female knights were allowed.
Agrias prided herself as being able to run with -run faster than, she bragged- the boys, but she'll also be the first to admit that there were still things that she could only do sitting down (1*).
***
As Ovelia began to brush Agrias now-dried hair into order, the Holy Knight took a look towards the door.
Ovelia would've used that as an opportunity to tease her uptight guardian if it hadn't been for the fact that she let slip mention of her kidnapper, which had set Agrias to be more alert, not relaxed.
"I think that he may not be our real enemy," Ovelia murmured.
Agrias shifted as Ovelia brushed. "I cannot allow myself to believe that. If we had not intercepted him at the falls, you would have been in Goltana's influence." Agrias leaned back as she shifted again, forcing Ovelia to shuffle on her knees on the bed. "On the other hand, Larg also wishes you under his thumb."
Ovelia replied tiredly. "Agrias, we'll talk of this enough tomorrow with the cardinal. Is there anything else we can discuss?"
"Your kidnapper," Agrias murmured. "You've taken an interest in him. . ."
Ah, revenge, Agrias thought, pushing her heads forward, as if to tug the answer out of Ovelia. The truth was, Agrias wasn't being truly playful, but trying to find out herself just how much her ward was influenced during her days of 'captivity.'
Of course, Agrias considered any attraction to Delita from Ovelia was foolish. What confused her was the fact that Delita was also a Holy Knight, not of the same order though, and in the Nanten Knights -Goltana's elite corps. Regardless who his master was, Delita showed no allegiance to them, and Agrias naturally detested rogue agents. Serving one's lord was one thing, but manipulating both friend and foe alike was abhorrent to Agrias.
"What he said, that he was like me," Ovelia replied nervously, "that he was like us, human, why did he point that out?"
Agrias sucked in a breath as Ovelia's query took her aback. "Because that's something we need to admit, not just know." Agrias wanted to make a denial, or to disregard the kidnapper's words, but her conscience wouldn't let her, indicating something that Agrias knew she was avoiding. "Maybe that's the side he's on," Agrias said out loud.
". . ."
"If he's not working for Larg or Goltana, maybe he's one of the few that do want to change things for the better. . ."
"You mean he's for the peasantry."
Agrias felt a rebuke coming on, but held it back. "As much as we want to deny it, we do see them as different beings from the nobility." She wondered why she was sticking up for the kidnapper -a cause of much consternation, and she attributed it to what her conscience felt. "It doesn't mean I sympathize with him," Agrias finished, almost snorting at how her seemed to favor the kidnapper.
Wondering how the conversation had gotten steered this way, Agrias just gave up. "We're both breaking our promise to leave this kind of talking alone."
"What else is there to talk about," Ovelia told her sadly. Agrias was surprised when Ovelia slipped a wide, short ribbon around her hair and wrapped it in a band. "Wait, this will keep it safe while you sleep."
"Oh. . ." Agrias replied. "Whatever happens highness," Agrias told her, facing the princess, slipping back into formality, even if they were both clad in sleeping clothes on the same bed, "always remember that people out there believe and support you. We'll be doing whatever we can to make sure there's something that brings you joy to think about."
"Can you apply that pledge to yourself as well?" Ovelia said sadly. "You're duty is to me, but I want you to be happy as well."
"I'll do what I can." Agrias didn't feel so uncomfortable, even with what Ovelia was insinuating with Ramza.
***
In the other room, Ramza tried not to listen to what conversations were going on in the Agrias' and Ovelia's chamber. It was a mild discomfort the way their fading voices kept on attracting his attention, luring him against his will. He wondered if it was about him. Ramza did have somewhat of an ego, but a lot of it was fear. It had been so long since he had been around people he could consider peers that he had ceased to care about what others thought of him so much as what he thought of himself.
Needlessly said, Fort Zeakden changed him, that battle -against his own unit, the Hokuten, changed Ramza. He still wondered if he was obsessing over the battle or if he truly took the lessons inflicted to heart.
In that act of rebellion against his brothers, Ramza thought he had truly severed his connection to what the Beoulve name entailed in everything but spirit. Yet, in a sense, his brothers won the victory against him as he could still rejoin the Hokuten. . . somehow.
That was a thought that made Ramza feel shame and discontent. He had betrayed the Hokuten and slew some of its number, yet, should he choose, Ramza would be allowed back into the fold, simply because of his name.
Ramza knew he should not be thinking about this, but it was still a line of thought that he knew he had to confront -repeatedly. Even as a 'Beoulve', Ramza knew he was beneath his brothers.
He knew he was illegitimate, having been born by his father's mistress. So, even if he was above the rest of the Hokuten, he was beneath his brothers. He was alone. . . yet Ramza felt enough pride in what he thought he represented.
To serve and to protect the populace, and to uphold the law -that was what Ramza thought he fought for. . . duty to everyone under his care.
Later on, he realized, even as he graduated from the academy by being sent on an immediate field mission to root out bandits in Gariland -a dubious coincidence Ramza considered, that he held himself above others except his peers.
"A naïve hypocrite," he said softly, describing himself as he was then.
"Teta," he continued gently, "Alma. . . I thought I was good. . ."
Ramza felt himself holding back a tear. "I thought I was doing good then. . . was I?"
***
***January 7th, Year 2. Lionel Castle***
Exhaustion catching up with them, all slept through the night. Upon waking, Agrias woke Ovelia up and when they went into the front room, found only Alicia and Lavian there, finishing the remnants of breakfast for them. Agrias saw that Ramza's beddings were neatly tucked away, and although Ramza's armor was still in the room, his sword and dagger were missing.
"How late is it?" Agrias asked.
"Not late enough," Alicia quipped, yawning.
"It is still early," Lavian replied calmly. "It should only be eight o'clock in the morning."
"We've been waking up before sunrise a little too much," Alicia tossed in, wiping her hands on a cloth that was folded on her lap.
Agrias nodded before addressing what the day would bring them. "Has the cardinal brought us any word?"
Alicia shrugged. "Yeah. . . a servant brought us a planner from him," she replied, lifting up her plate and taking out a piece of parchment from beneath it.
Not commenting on Alicia's choice of a placemat, Agrias took the message and read some of the day's schedule. She nodded. It was what she expected.
"Both of you," she told the other knights, "It's a holiday. . ."
Lavian nodded pleasantly, satisfied. "Are you sure?"
Agrias only shook her head. "Don't even try the humility act. . . just enjoy yourselves for today. Its only the princess, myself, and that Mustadio boy that have to see the cardinal."
"Ramza too," Alicia said as she was chewing on her last dinner roll for breakfast.
"Excuse me?" Ovelia inquired, not quite hearing right.
Alicia gulped self-consciously, almost choking as she swallowed the still-intact piece of bread. Gasping and after pounding the table lightly with her fist, she spoke up. "The messenger told us that the cardinal said that your 'mercenary,'" she spoke, imitating the messenger's smarmy and condescending tone, "should be there since the cardinal knows that all three of us will be staying with Ovelia and he thought that only Ramza would be available to escort him."
A wave of annoyance roiled over Agrias; she forgot about that little detail. The princess and her bodyguard detail would be staying here until they were relieved, or unless the cardinal escorted them all the way to Lesalia. But, they still had Mustadio to look after, and the only one of them that could leave the princess' presence was Ramza. This lead her to one conclusion. Damn it!
"Where is Mr. Ruglia?" Ovelia asked.
"Fresh air. . ." Lavian remarked, "I think he was going to be exercising."
"Armed?" Alicia threw in sarcastically. "That servant did mention several of the local hotshots wanting to challenge 'The Princess' Champion.'" Alicia shook her head. "That man was horrible! Insults on one hand, compliments on the other. . . none of them even mentioned challenging you, boss. . . immature little boys."
As Agrias' eyes opened in alarm, Alicia sucked in a breath, finally seeing Lavian shaking her head warningly at her. If anyone was expecting more of a reaction, they were disappointed. During the rest of breakfast, as Alicia and Lavian stayed at the table, Agrias kept silent, thinking, mindlessly filling her stomach, having lost her appetite.
***
Feeling aggravated towards Ramza -who she thought must have answered at least one of the challenges, Agrias knew she could not seek him out in the castle. The fact that he wasn't leashed to Ovelia the way she was irked Agrias. Well, he'll be with us when it comes time to see the cardinal before noon, she consoled herself. In her mind, it was complete idiocy to face off for the sake of machismo.
Wondering what the protocol was when formally meeting with the lord of Lionel, Agrias thought she should wear her armor, which was currently being cleaned and prepared by Alicia and Lavian both. She brought out her formal dress tunic that was a thick deep blue, the folded back collars revealing the internal weave was in gold. Her collars covered the thin leather gloves she wore. Then came her thick leather corset, also deep blue, representing the lower half of her torso's protection. She almost laughed at her tunic's semi-skirt, which didn't cover her front, but was split in the back. Her leggings were thick, but loose leather, only reaching immediately past her knees. Underneath her toughened leather pants was a pair of silk hose that covered her feet, meant to keep her from being chafed. Her boots rode high, hugging more than halfway on her calves.
Her clothes bordered on the elaborate, but their simple trim also exemplified her as a soldier. Even the cloth material was reinforced with multiple weaves, meant to absorb heat, while her leather pieces were thick were her body stretched, and thin were her body contracted.
However, Agrias was already beginning to feel hot. She forgot how well armor insulated one's body as well as trapped any moisture. As Alicia and Lavian began to equip onto her the mithril plate breastplate, Agrias consciously kept herself from sucking in a breath.
She knew that her armor would still be scuffed, dented, and warped in several locations, but it was as close to parade dress as she could come.
Any of the castle cities maintained excellent armories, and though Lionel's smith was not her armor's creator, that person could be trusted to repair and to readjust -which Agrias hoped was unnecessary- her suit of armor, as light as it was.
Originally, in the war, she wore much heavier protection with armor covering her upper arms as well as shielding her knees. However, they had proven too strenuous, and painfully, soldiers learned to value light weight, mobility, and increased endurance over the heavy armor. Gone was her pauldrons and poleyns: the pieces of armor that protected her shoulders and kneecaps.
Agrias wasn't quite dressed for war, but she came very close. With her sword's frog wrapped around her corset's waist, all that was missing was her shield.
As to why she never wore a helm, an armored headpiece was only worn in peacetime by soldiers posting guard or involved in some other martial activity. The armored helm symbolized open hostility, and attracted attention, especially since they were the first thing shed by troops for their discomfort over long periods of time.
A stark contrast to Ovelia, clad in fresh set of replacements for her monastery robes. Even in that humble environment, Ovelia's status favored her, her off-white robe gilded with saffron filigree, whilst she wore a cinnabar mantle.
"Do you wish to do anything before we leave to meet with Cardinal Draclau?" Agrias asked.
Ovelia shook her head. "We might get lost."
"Alicia, Lavian, could you find us someone that can guide us to the cardinal?" Agrias told them. "After that, the day is yours."
"With pleasure, ma'am!" Alicia quipped, quickly yanking her partner along. Agrias had forgotten that the two carried civilian clothing in their luggage.
Ovelia giggled. "Were they afraid you would cut their free time short?"
Agrias just shrugged, a smile replacing the mute expression on her face. "They are soldiers. One of their missions in life is to enjoy it as much as they can get away with."
Ovelia just nodded.
***
Habit being formed out of years of institutionalization, Ramza found himself exercising. He did not do so to push himself, but to slow his decline, to ensure that his condition stayed as it was. Drill was bloodless combat, and combat was bloody drill. That was a maxim ingrained into him before he had entered the Gariland academy.
The Lionel soldiers were amazed when he came into their barracks to perform physical training alongside them. Ramza had woken before dawn, walked down to the kitchens, and ate breakfast with the servants. While there, he reminded the staff about what to do with his companions when they woke up.
A smirking Kim came back, dragging a sleep Mustadio into the room. When Mustadio had complained about being risen too early, Ramza told him plainly, "You will not be enjoying this shelter forever. Your discomfort will be worth your life."
"I've gotten used to running from them for weeks," Mustadio had complained.
Ramza had not commented further, having made his point. After his breakfast in the kitchens, he had Mustadio follow him. "I don't expect instant results or an immediate improvement, but you need to condition yourself."
"I have been. . ." Mustadio went along the same lines again.
Ramza shook his head. "As prey. Your weapon makes you dangerous, but it shouldn't be the only thing that defends you."
Mustadio acquiesced to that, and the two of them found themselves trying to keep pace with the Lionel soldiers. On the run around one of the walled in gardens in the castle, Mustadio fell back, but Ramza slowed down to calmly keep pace with the struggling engineer, making sure he kept running, but not forcing him.
"Focus on the architecture," Ramza told him, showing some winding in his voice, "you have to occupy your mind on something else: it won't be so painful."
Not wanting to argue, Mustadio did as Ramza advised. His body still ached, sore, tired, and aching for water, but somehow, Mustadio found himself still running. His pace grew slower with fatigue, but he still kept going forwards. "Focusing on the pain doesn't do me any good, does it?" Mustadio wheezed, trying to make light conversation.
Ramza just twisted his wrists as he ran. Mustadio took that as a shrug.
They were on the last stretch now, and even from the distance, Mustadio could see the sneers on several of the finished runners. Ramza was the one really being made fun of, and Mustadio was grateful that he stayed behind to keep him on the run.
There was no last-second sprint, as both jogged to the end of the run at the same pace they had kept for most of the circuit.
***
The cold weather in the morning was something Ramza appreciated. He didn't sweat as much as he would have, plus, he did not feel so fatigued. What he wondered was why he stood there now, in an open room in the barracks, his sheathed sword held in his left hand, across from one of the resident soldiers.
"Ramza. . . don't they have practice swords for this?" Mustadio called out to him from one wall of the spacious training room. It was remarkable in its sparseness. There was literally nothing in the room but people, no decorations, no fixtures, none except for several places in the wall that held extinguished torches. There were windows cut into the stone wall facing the inside of the castle, providing light,
Deciding against telling Mustadio his intentions, Ramza nodded. "They are not necessary."
"You're going to fight with blades?!"
Ramza shook his head, and his opponent answered for him. "We were dumb enough to enlist, but we're not that stupid." Ramza chuckled, agreeing. "There's some things that we think the servants don't need to know, and this place is off-limits to them. We want to hear anything that this mercenary can tell us seeing as it concerns what may happen to us in the future." He handed his weapon to a young squire who came in between the man he was opposite to, collecting both of their weapons.
"I don't understand. . ." Mustadio said, confused.
"They are talking about the civil war that's coming," Ramza explained dully. His voice was serious, lacking any pleasant tone. He waved his arm to invite the other soldiers closer in. "They didn't believe the cover story. Anyone could tell that the heir-apparent to the throne, especially with a dying king," Ramza raised his voice, "will not travel this far escorted only by a handful of bodyguards, a single mercenary, and a refugee," which Ramza indicated Mustadio as instead of a hunted figure.
"But the soldiers from Zaland. . ."
"Ovelia would've been escorted by a complete unit from Lesalia, and it's a long way from Orbonne to Zaland." Ramza clarified. "They," he meant the soldiers in the room with them, "are going to hear this from the cardinal himself. It won't hurt for them to know just what and why they might be fighting for."
"We're all on the same side, right?" Mustadio concluded.
"And he's part of your force?" a man wearing an archer's uniform of a green tunic and dull red pants blurted.
***
Alicia and Lavian had managed to 'induce' a wandering squire. An actual squire who had just begun his training for knighthood at the age of eleven. Agrias kept from giving them a disapproving glare as it seemed the squire was very, very apprehensive.
"We didn't force him!" Alicia blurted out, causing her partner-in- crime to wince.
Agrias took a breath, knowing that the answers she had found out about her subordinates' personalities only lead her to more confusion and frustration.
Ovelia took this moment to diffuse the situation. "He's just nervous."
Immediately, the boy fell to his right knee and his right hand, staring down to the floor as he knelt and bowed his head forward. "Y-your highness."
"Rise, sir knight," Ovelia told him pleasantly, the boy's bringing her pleasant amusement.
"I-I'm just a squire, your majesty," the boy said, afraid of even passively correcting her.
"It was an honest mistake," Ovelia said charmingly, soothing the boy, feeling sorry for him. A more experienced -and jaded- squire would not have dared to correct her. She felt comfort in comforting another. It was one of the few times when the influence -not power, which was nil- she possessed felt positive.
Deciding to save the boy from both terror and embarrassment, Agrias stepped up. "Could you please take us to the cardinal. We have a meeting with him in an hour,"
"Of course," the boy remarked crisply, before nervousness taking him over again. "The cardinal will not return from a service in town for over an hour."
Agrias nodded, calmly taking the news, acting that way on purpose to loosen the tension the poor page/squire was inflicting on himself. She glanced over at Ovelia. "We have time to tour the castle."
"Our escort is a little light," Ovelia said playfully. "Why don't we find Mr. Ruglia and ensure that all of us arrive there on time."
Agrias blinked, then sighed as she turned her attention again to their nervous guide. "Would you happen to know where my little mercenary has gotten himself into a fight?" It was only after she finished her sentence that Agrias realized that she slipped in her reference. She didn't look where Ovelia could meet her eyes on purpose.
"One of the barracks I believe," the squire replied as crisply as he could.
Well, I guess we are going to go sightseeing first, Agrias thought.
***
"So both the white and black lions are against the crown?" One of the soldiers, clad in the armor of a dragoon, called out, making a conclusion from the facts that Ramza revealed. The armor wasn't unique to Lionel. It consisted of heavy, thickened leather pants with attached boots which were strapped onto the lower section of the breastplate so as to not drag down the armored infantry's mobility. From the waist-up, he wore plate mail that was purposely an unfinished gray. For effect, the dragoon wore a one- piece helm whose fixed visor resembled that of their namesake, a dragon's crown. The ears were a stylish addition, one that was detrimental, in Ramza's opinion.
"It looks like it," Ramza told him, wanting to say otherwise, since he knew that he was overstepping what he was sure of.
"Gallione against. Zeltennia?" a knight spoke up.
"With Fovoham and Limberry declaring for either one," Ramza followed.
"Lesalia's going to get torn apart, caught in between four provinces?" the same knight followed.
"We can reinforce them!" The dragoon threw in.
Ramza shook his head. "It wouldn't matter. You wanted to know what might happen, this may be it."
"Keep going, we're all taking this with a grain of salt," the archer bade Ramza. "Why do you say its hopeless? The Church has its own military corps bastioned on Murond. That island bastion will never fall to anything. Plus, we control the Southern Front, so we can flood reinforcements into Lesalia.
"Just like we did in the war?" Mustadio piped up. Although a few of the soldiers gave him a glare implicating him as both traitor and outsider, most of the rest grudgingly agreed with his outburst, as ill-timed and provocative as it was.
"Neither of them would try to take the capital province if they are both fighting each other and they each only have a third of Ivalice's military," Ramza went on, realizing that he was treading on the hypothetical. "Plus, Lesalia's bound to be compromised already."
"How many of their front-line units are already garrisoned there?" another soldier inquired.
"The Hokuten and the Black Sheep already have their tributary units (2*) established in the capital," the archer spoke.
"Along with the Nanten, as of two weeks ago." Ramza appended.
The dragoon chuckled, squeezing his gauntlets at his side. "It really is inevitable, isn't it? The first-strike and elite units of both Ivalice's lions are being garrisoned in the capital as opposed to our borders? Unless Romanda has infiltrated a full division into the population." The last sentence was laced with sarcasm.
"Peasant revolt?" a chemist threw in as a hypothetical.
"That comes after those northern bastards tear each other apart!" the archer bitterly countered.
"We can still stop this, if we intervene!" the knight burst out.
Ramza chose to step out of the conversation at this point. Although he knew it was right to tell them that which he was sure of, he also knew that he was fanning the flames. Discipline meant that one followed orders. It didn't matter how ridiculous they seemed, except that they were created for a reason, and one had to place faith in those orders just as the officers had to place trust in the men and women who executed those commands. Yet, there were some things that should not -for the sake of morale- be hidden from a soldier.
"And that is what we are here for," Agrias announced in a clipped tone.
Naturally, some of the people in the room turned their attention to the voice of the new speaker, whose voice was new to them.
Ramza met her bemused glare without flinching, nodding at her, giving her an open expression. He wasn't denying that he did something wrong, but he also made it clear that it was what he felt was right. In other words, he believed he was justified. There would be no apology.
"Is it time to meet with the cardinal?" Ramza asked.
"We have some time yet," Ovelia spoke from behind Agrias. Ramza was the only one unsurprised by that. The princess walked forwards as Agrias secured a position in the room, noticing how all the Lionel soldiers were appraising her knight, she continued on speaking. "I am touring this castle, as well as meeting with its residents."
Taking a sidelong look at the reactions of the other soldiers, Ramza knelt and bowed his head forwards. Following his lead, the others soon followed, and only Agrias, Ovelia, Mustadio, and the apprehensive squire that was their guide were left standing in the room filled with almost a hundred people.
"You may rise. . ." Ovelia said awkwardly, feeling a reprehensive that she potentially embarrassed a group of soldiers who if anything, were supporting her. Tentatively, she wondered what she would say next, as the soldiers automatically came to casual attention. None of them would speak until she left the room or addressed them directly with a question. "About what Mr. Ruglia has told you. . ." she began, giving a helpless look towards Ramza. "I will not deceive you," she told them honestly, wondering why it felt so good to release the truth like that, as if the secrecy was eating away at her from the inside. "The chances for war are great, but I have come here to seek your cardinal-" she halted, "your help," she amended, "to prevent war from ravaging Ivalice again."
Ramza and Agrias both felt out of sync as the other soldiers in the room saluted firmly, giving a collective grunt. There were things about group unity and pack mentality that appealed to them. Startled by the spontaneous display of respect, Ovelia looked at Ramza, the only one in the mass of soldiers that had not participated; Mustadio was standing up against the wall, simply looking on, curious.
"Relax. . ." Ramza said calmly, striding towards Agrias and the princess. He was thinking about the loyalty of these soldiers. It didn't hurt for the princess to personally impress potential supporters.
Not knowing what else to say, Ovelia gave a light nod of her head, knowing that these men and women were committing their lives -and their loved ones' lives- to the breach by supporting her. "There is no reward great enough. . ." she mumbled.
Their eyes catching, Ramza and Agrias took a sobering breath as they agreed; no, there isn't.
What have you done? Agrias pondered in her mind, wondering if Ramza recruited a full company of mixed soldiers for the princess. You can't be real. . . Agrias thought, exasperated -yet proud.
***
Lead by the adolescent squire -Macaulay was his name- Ramza walked behind Agrias and Ovelia. Mustadio was actually ahead of their guide, looking around curiously at how the castle was built.
For better or for worse, Agrias waited until they had left the Lionel soldiers of that barracks to talk to Ramza. She ignored the local squire in front of them. "Why did you talk to them about our situation?"
"They are allies," Ramza pointed out.
"Not yet," Agrias countered. "Being too open will backfire on us -it isn't your own welfare you hold in your hands."
"If they weren't for us, we are already dead," Ramza pointed out.
"I. . . I value their loyalty in me," Ovelia said, stopping the escalation of frustrated arguing between the Holy Knight and the mercenary squire. "Yet, I agree with Agrias: we haven't talked to the cardinal about our situation in-depth yet."
Slowing her step to fall in beside Ramza, Agrias turned her head to him. "I trust you. . ." she whispered. "But you confuse me so often. . ."
"As you do to me. . ." Ramza gently replied. "It isn't all in our hands anymore."
"And I'm thankful for that. . ." Agrias admitted. Secretively, she sought Ramza's hand in hers and she was surprised to see him anticipate her and meet her groping attempt in his grasp. Again, she detested the lack of feeling she received because of the heavy gloves she wore. Agrias appreciated it still, breathing audibly before separating from him and taking her place with the princess.
"I thought the cardinal's office was located in another level of the keep," Ramza pointed out, bringing up what he had learned from the castle's residents.
"You're right," Mustadio agreed from where we paced ahead of the group. "This corridor looks familiar."
Shrugging, Agrias took a look back and gave Ramza a knowing look. "I don't know, but you do need to prepare for the meeting."
"I lack a uniform. . ." Ramza replied.
"Gafgarion doesn't believe in them!" Agrias cracked. "Your armor is enough," she told him, giving him a helpless smile.
***
"At my first opportunity," Agrias told him bluntly, "I'm going to take you to an armory."
Ramza nodded, shrugging. "This was my first suit of armor that I purchased with my own funds. More or less, we were only meant to fight bandits." He watched Agrias carefully as he said that statement, and she gave him an indulgent look.
"I have better armor protection than you and yet my armor is only half the weight." Agrias pointed out.
Mustadio grunted. "Doesn't matter anymore." Everyone knew what he meant. Soberly, he continued. "Guns are beginning to catch on. Their still expensive and atrocious to maintain. . ."
Agrias shuddered. The idea of a such a weapon. . .
"I agree. . . better to never get hit at all, but sometimes you'll take being encumbered -even slightly- to being mangled by something a thin piece of metal or leather could've stopped."
Agrias took a look at her mercenary. Ramza had worn a hay-colored, long-sleeved shirt with dull red thickened leather pants cut to accommodate his battle boots. She realized that the red matched his eyes. The boy was so pale in some spots that she had seen last night that she wondered if he was albino. His hair wasn't pale enough though. . ..
Ramza's purple breastplate was patched and dented, yet the visible damage and abuse on it added to its image to reliability. With Ramza's calm and accepting demeanor, the battle-worn armor had a sense of dignity.
Agrias caught herself thinking about him too much and told herself to get back to business. Taking a look at Mustadio, she asked him, "Do you need to prepare?"
"I'm wearing everything that I own."
There was pity to be found in that statement, as well as something Agrias found almost disturbing: something that almost resembled contempt towards the disenfranchised. Condescendence? Agrias asked herself. She walked into the other room. "Princess?" she politely addressed Ovelia, "There is nothing left to do before seeing the cardinal."
Ovelia gave her a pretended petulant look. Although her robes and mantle made it difficult, she laid down on the bed and laughed. "But I don't want to!" she said in a mock-whine.
Agrias just laughed. The humor was out there, but that's what Agrias thought they needed.
***
"This is the chapel. . ." Mustadio commented, straying ahead -again- of the guiding squire.
"So it is true," Agrias said from where she walked immediately to the right and in front of Ovelia. "He does work from the altar. . ."
Ramza kept any statements to himself as they walked down the corridor. It was located on one corner of the keep, as evidenced by one wall decorated with stained glass windows. He didn't lag behind, but Ramza did not know where he fit. To be safe, he chose to follow Ovelia. Since Mustadio was ignorant when it came to etiquette, he was excluded from this code of conduct.
When Agrias and Ovelia crossed the threshold into the chapel itself, Ramza looked on as both kneeled and crossed themselves, before walking down the aisle towards the raised altar. Ramza did not kneel, but gaze forwards at the back of the chapel, at the altar, having questions he knew he shouldn't ask. He didn't follow them immediately, instead walking over to a stand of candles. He looked upon row and row of lit candles. His breathing slowed.
"Excuse me, sir," he heard a familiar woman's voice say behind him. Turning around, he saw Kevin sitting in one of the pews on the left side of the back of the chapel. Right behind Ramza had been Kim, who had gotten out of her seat upon seeing him. She held a purse up to him and offered him two candles. She gave him a sad smile, and he was grateful that she did not say what was on her mind -which was obvious to all.
Ramza took the two, giving Kim an appreciative -yet somber, expression. He remembered that now, he only needed one candle to be lit in remembrance. As he sheepishly tried to give her back the second candle, Kim shook her head, telling him, nodding her head towards the stands of candles. "Not all of them represent someone that was lost. . ."
Ramza nodded, and Kim was satisfied with that simple answer, and returned to her pew, sidling herself against Kevin, who just gave him a 'what-can-you-do' expression.
Taking the candles in his right hand, Ramza was very careful. With his gloves, layered on the wrist side by metal tabs sewn onto the leather, Ramza had no real sense of touch, the feeling of the candles -waxy, soft, and vulnerable- lost to him. Taking the first, he lit it from one of the other candles. Holding the candle at an angle for a few seconds, Ramza waited as it began to cry molten wax. Finding a place on the edge of the stand, Ramza cemented the weeping candle with its dried tears.
Ramza looked down at its partner in his right hand.
"The past, the present, or the future?" Agrias asked him gently, causing Ramza to turn towards the altar. Just in front of him was Agrias, standing there, regarding him with a sad expression. She didn't wait for him to respond, but stood closer to him, taking a look down at the candle she planted. Eyes of oak met eyes of blood and Agrias had her answer for what the candle symbolized to Ramza.
Ramza offered the candle to Agrias, looking upon her tenderly and with his own sorrow. His smile was of sympathy, not of joy.
As Agrias raised her hand to refuse, she held back, instead touching the back of Ramza's hand with her left, taking her covered index finger and running it down the metal plate on the wrist of Ramza's glove. "A prayer. . ." she told him, holding his eyes.
Ramza exhaled audibly, agreeing. Awkwardly, both of them tilted their linked arms, using the flame from the first candle, and held it there, mesmerized as they stared into the glow of their candle. It was only when the first rivulet of waxen tears fell onto Agrias' gloved hand that they left their moment of peace.
Together, they watched as their candle wept, not for what had been lost, but out of relief and gratitude for what may come to be, for being able to survive to that point. Agrias felt a small release occur as she took both their linked hands down and planted their hopes and prayers on dried tears.
Still holding his hand, Agrias turned and took a look towards the altar. She caught sight of Alicia and Lavian sitting in the pews up ahead, giving her looks, but Agrias did not care, not wondering why they were in the chapel. Even as Ovelia gawked at her awkwardly, making no attempt to shield her curiosity
The moment was still Ramza's and hers. Even if separated in the future, their prayers and hopes were the same. Agrias drew comfort and security from that. Ramza squeezed her hand.
From his perspective, Agrias almost glowed. If it wasn't for the fact that Ramza placed their candle besides where the first was on the edge, Ramza could not tell which one it was from the multitudes of other remembrances, prayers, and symbols of gratitude that so many other people set there, in this place.
To him, the candle was not temporal. That flame of hope would burn forever now. . . for the longest time, it was his alone to bear, to shield from despair, something that he clung to. With Agrias, Ramza felt that it was something he could live by.
***
***Author's Notes***
*Footnotes:
(1*) Here's the 'dirty' joke: It refers to how Agrias has to go to the latrine as compared with the 'rest of the guys'. . . immature, yes, but what toilet humor isn't?
(2*) A tributary unit in this reference are other military units that are connected to a main unit. An example of this would be their baggage train, a medical detachment, a group of engineers, and of course, actual combat units that are green or non-elite in status that they use to fill their own ranks with after depletion (discharged or killed).
As in, if the Nanten Knights suffered considerable casualties after a battle, during refitting, instead of downgrading its size or rooting through fresh recruits for reinforcements, the Nanten could pull soldiers from a specific unit or two that is similar to itself (sort of a field- training unit), and those new troops would be more or less properly trained to fulfill what the Nanten needs, as opposed to taking even a veteran soldier from another elite unit who has no idea as to what the Nanten is about or what he needs to do to assimilate.
*End Footnotes
Finally, the story becomes more political. . . and I made it personal again at the end. . .
The power of personality and that of physical presence -yep, Ovelia's gaining a small following. Nothing like the threat of Civil War to make a person choose a side and fight for it.
Not meaning to condescend, but I want to point this out: This becomes important in due time in the story.
I wanted to cover Ovelia a bit more, and I'm thinking that I'm making her too strong a figure, but then again, she's being raised on some level for this.
Note how the responsibility, power, and authority is technically being forced onto her.
Ramza's acting more independent. . . boredom I guess, as well as his personal convictions coming to the fore.
Yes, this was an indirect way of me explaining the backdrop of this story, with the soldiers talking amongst themselves (note how Ramza is left behind in the conversation) about the possibilities of war, and I had to throw in the peasant revolt bit -not quite foreshadow, but a few of those soldiers (hey, its mixed peasantry and nobility in that room) have to be bitter themselves about the caste system.
I wanted to go a bit further with this chapter, but then I remembered, its been over a month since I've seen that scene (where Draclau talks to them) and I'm going to make mistakes. Lazy me hasn't gotten around to replaying that. . . as well as I liked where I ended the scene.
I don't want to go into detail describing that segment. . . I tried to make what I wanted to get through obvious, and its one of the few times I just wrote on symbolism, theme and emotion and yeah. . . stuff!
If you've noticed the semi-perspective changes often in scenes where there should only be one real viewpoint (Ramza's or Agrias'), kudos. I write a lot of the story in between periods of time where I have nothing else to do. . . I really do need to commit myself more.
***Author's Notes***
***Readers' Response Corner***
First off. . . kudos to Teknos Warhammer; reviews like that more or less render Author's Notes and Readers' Response Corners' redundant. Thank you for understanding so easily.
Hmm, to tackle a few concerns raised:
Minka-chan. . . when the 'marriage' remarks came up, it wasn't Agrias saying that she WANTED to marry Ramza at that point (irony considering the chapel scene you just read. . .). There was a lot of teasing and exaggerating going on. However, for an 'old maid' like Agrias is (age 21- 22. . . and she isn't hitched yet? That's ancient in Ivalice unless she's a widower or a divorcee), yeah, Ramza is something to kill for, and being a soldier, I would assume Agrias would know to take happiness when she can, even if it may or may not conflict with her duties (just how much of a distraction Ramza is hasn't been cleared up yet).
Digression time: I'm sorry if I get this wrong, but you're female, aren't you? Sorry, but by the way that you talk (type), you seem very feminine and young. Moving back onto the main thread. . .
At this point, Agrias knows she more or less wants Ramza, but then again, with her personality. . . its a long, long road, yet, Ramza is there to accelerate it, wanted or not. And yes, there will be problems because of that (damned if he does, damned if he doesn't. . .). I'd like to go more along this point, but that'd be committing myself to plot events that I haven't written down yet.
By the way, I forgot to thank you and the others for giving me links to potential source and background material. I really appreciated that ^_^. I'm still trying to find unmodified profiles of Ramza (with the purple armor) and Agrias since I'm trying to create a wallpaper of sorts to decorate my desktop.
If I ever get the materials I need for that pic project, anyone's welcome to ask me for a copy.
Also, Harvey might edit a compilation of the entire story -to date. He will not be posting it on fanfiction.net (too lazy to repost all the chapters and it's a violation of fanfiction.net's rules to post duplicates). Reason: He wants to standardize the story and to check for minor and massive errors.
Well, Ilvinaeda. . . yes, Alicia does have a coarse sense of humor. When she brought up the 'sweaty stud,' she was pointing out to Agrias that even she (Agrias) has hormones and is attracted to the opposite sex (as opposed to telling her superior that she has a hair up her ass the size of a bridge cable -that's out of line even for her) like anyone is and Agrias is fooling only herself if she thinks that she isn't.
I can't really apologize since that IS how I want Alicia's personality to be like: Open and very expressive, not just in happiness, but also in anger.
She's a foil to Lavian, who's more of the bookish, reserved type. Lavian is probably even more a stick in the mud than Agrias is. Scary once you think about it. . .
She does have a libido too, as well as picking up some of Alicia's sense of humor.
By the way. . . don't become defensive about your review. Its my job as an author to cover my ass (its so easy to offend others. . .) so there isn't any confusion.
The reason I ask people to comment on my portayal of the characters, especially the female ones, is because I have no definitive idea of how they think. I have no clue. . . and I sometimes wonder if I am taking things out too far.
Ah, Highwaywoman. . . I'm glad I didn't disappoint. Yeah, as to the song, well, I figure it was the perfect thing to go along with Agrias' hormone rush (look, seeing Ramza half-naked, glistening with water in a towel HAS to draw a reaction out of her. . .). Just imagine if Ramza was actually moving along to the music.
As to the breaking part. . . its inevitable, and hopefully, Agrias doesn't become melodramatic as she's drifted towards in a couple of segments.
I can say this much about the future of the story. Within a week, it all goes to hell.
Other songs I am considering: (and yes, I am aware that I haven't written a single word in the first ACTUAL SongScene to be released).
*Sixpence None the Richer "Kiss Me"
Its nice, its romantic, and most important, its very open. I think Agrias is capable of singing something like this. She's not the Ice Queen. If anything, I figure she's most relaxed during the storm since people like her will prepare and anticipate beyond reason about how to prevent it (if possible) before it occurs.
*Fuel "Shimmer"
Nice, and some of the emotions seem similar to "Hemorrhage", except this would be in the hopeful stage. Thing is, this is Ramza singing this to someone else asides from Agrias. Alma maybe?
*Sel(i or e?)na "Dreaming of You"
I intend this to be sung by Agrias while seperated from Ramza and/or after their relationship has (its not a matter of may, I'm not stupid enough to be so indecisive or deceptive about that intent) reached a 'certain' level.
*Aretha Franklin "Rescue Me"
I finally found the artist who sang this song best. . .
As to why. . . well, take away the repetitiveness, and it is going to become very, very ironic in reference to what happens to Agrias after Ramza leaves to take Mustadio to Goug. Yet, this song has to be clipped (I can only use part of the song since it repeats so much).
Black Chocobos:
*The Cardigans "My Favorite Game"
It has the emotions I want for Agrias, yet, the lyrics repeat too much. . . plus I don't want to write the story so it fits the song.
*Metallica "Nothing Else Matters"
Yes. Exactly. Ramza singing with that type of deep voice. Yet, the song itself seems appropriate. It deals with the trust issues quite so well including the entire outcast (heretic) angle that develops later in the game's storyline.
*REM "Losing My Religion"
Self explanatory. Might be a good duet or alternate singer song. However, its too stretched out. Background music yes, not as something to be sung really. . .
Comments thus far on Truth and Reality's soundtrack?
The tracks on my Soundtrack playlist on WinAmp3:
Goo Goo Dolls - Iris (Acoustic) Lifehouse - Hanging By a Moment Evanescence - Bring Me to Life Vertical Horizon - Everything You Want Garbage - I Think I'm Paranoid Fuel - Shimmer (Acoustic) Sixpence None the Richer - Kiss Me Three Doors Down - Here Without You Aretha Franklin - Rescue Me Sel(e or i?)na - Dreaming of You
And of course. . . Crazy's Town's "Butterfly"
***Readers' Response Corner***
The point's been raised that I'm incredibly slow when it comes to actual storytime. . . so, the style of this chapter may differ since I am going to try to accelerate the writing a bit before bringing it back down to a reasonable pace.
I detest 'telling' as opposed to 'showing,' but I have to push this story along and yes, I realize that it is getting bogged down into what I've trapped myself in before:
The Chronicle Everything, LITERALLY EVERYTHING That Happens In A 24- Hour Period Dilemma.
I do have to change seeing as the game spans months. . . and I'm not even a week yet into the story. . .
Also, a new format will be introduced. I'm no longer going to be parenthesizing thoughts. It might lead to some confusion, but I think it looks cleaner. . . that sounds awkward.
Also, footnotes will appear in this chapter. For example seeing a (1*) would indicate that there is a note for that selection I would like for you to read (for further clarification of the text) in the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter. It is sequential (1*, 2*, 3*, n*)
***Author's Notes***
Chapter 02-11 "Flickering Hope" (Chapter Two: The Manipulator and the Subservient, Scene 11)
***
The four females found Ramza and Mustadio in the front room of their quarters. The two were sitting at the table, across from each other, already eating. Mustadio continued to spoon soup colored-brown into his maw while Ramza looked up from where he was picking apart a small loaf of bread to give them a welcoming smile.
"Dinner's ready," he told them.
"He's a keeper. . ." Alicia said snidely under her breath. For a moment, Agrias thought she might be elbowed by her subordinate.
Ramza swept his hand towards the head of the table as he stood up from where he sat. Following Ramza's lead, Mustadio also stood.
Bowing her head politely, Ovelia took the position offered with a smile as Mustadio awkwardly pushed her seat in. She had the pleasure of seeing Ramza seat Agrias, who surprising seemed nonchalant.
Seated, now, Agrias found herself where Mustadio was, at Ovelia's right hand, while Ramza had presumptuously taken Ovelia's left, right across from her.
"Thank you, Ramza," Lavian told him.
Silently, the boy nodded.
***
Dinner had been rushed. Ramza was getting tired, and he knew the refreshment from bathing was beginning to fade from everyone. As soon as Mustadio finished his meal, the engineer excused himself.
Ramza had nothing to talk about, nothing of consequence to everyone's collective concern, and nothing that would not inflame them and not cause them to worry over something that was beyond their help.
As arranged, Phillip and Kim came by and picked up their dishes, and Ramza had to smile as the others were surprised that the castle staff already knew him, the insider effect seeming to capture the females' attentions, for better or for worse.
Everyone was getting tired; neither Alicia nor Lavian teased him or Agrias.
***
"Good night lonely-boy," Alicia called out tiredly as she followed Lavian into their shared bedroom.
"Sleep well," Ramza called after Alicia as she closed her door, alone now in the room with the table. True to her word, Agrias and the others had meticulously arranged Ramza's beddings. He found it amusing, seeing as how little they seemed to mind when they were out in the field to sleep in the dirt. Wondering if the 'fairer' sex was like that, Ramza found the topic almost funny.
Ramza stared down and found himself shaking his head at himself. Over the years, he had mellowed down when it came to girls and then to women. However, being in close proximity now, and the fact that none of them wore armor that shattered their femininity, made Ramza a little uncomfortable. Well, a 'good' type of uncomfortable, Ramza thought. Seeing the knights in night clothes again made Ramza feel, well, happy.
Knowing he had nothing else to do but sleep, Ramza slipped into the sandwiching layers of blankets Agrias and her knights had somehow procured from nowhere. Even the last few real beds he'd slept in had not felt this good.
He had blown out the last few candles illuminating in the room, but he left a stub of a candle on the table burning, just so if anyone needed to use the room in the night, they would not trip over anything, especially him.
Ignoring the flickering shadows the meager candle supplied, Ramza stared at the ceiling, wondering what thoughts he would entertain before oblivion claimed him.
***
In her and Ovelia's room, Agrias shared the large bed with Ovelia. Tired as both of them were, both indulged in another activity they had not been able to perform for a long time.
There was an art to keeping their hair healthy, and Agrias didn't consider herself conceited to fiercely maintain one of the few visible aspects of femininity that female knights were allowed.
Agrias prided herself as being able to run with -run faster than, she bragged- the boys, but she'll also be the first to admit that there were still things that she could only do sitting down (1*).
***
As Ovelia began to brush Agrias now-dried hair into order, the Holy Knight took a look towards the door.
Ovelia would've used that as an opportunity to tease her uptight guardian if it hadn't been for the fact that she let slip mention of her kidnapper, which had set Agrias to be more alert, not relaxed.
"I think that he may not be our real enemy," Ovelia murmured.
Agrias shifted as Ovelia brushed. "I cannot allow myself to believe that. If we had not intercepted him at the falls, you would have been in Goltana's influence." Agrias leaned back as she shifted again, forcing Ovelia to shuffle on her knees on the bed. "On the other hand, Larg also wishes you under his thumb."
Ovelia replied tiredly. "Agrias, we'll talk of this enough tomorrow with the cardinal. Is there anything else we can discuss?"
"Your kidnapper," Agrias murmured. "You've taken an interest in him. . ."
Ah, revenge, Agrias thought, pushing her heads forward, as if to tug the answer out of Ovelia. The truth was, Agrias wasn't being truly playful, but trying to find out herself just how much her ward was influenced during her days of 'captivity.'
Of course, Agrias considered any attraction to Delita from Ovelia was foolish. What confused her was the fact that Delita was also a Holy Knight, not of the same order though, and in the Nanten Knights -Goltana's elite corps. Regardless who his master was, Delita showed no allegiance to them, and Agrias naturally detested rogue agents. Serving one's lord was one thing, but manipulating both friend and foe alike was abhorrent to Agrias.
"What he said, that he was like me," Ovelia replied nervously, "that he was like us, human, why did he point that out?"
Agrias sucked in a breath as Ovelia's query took her aback. "Because that's something we need to admit, not just know." Agrias wanted to make a denial, or to disregard the kidnapper's words, but her conscience wouldn't let her, indicating something that Agrias knew she was avoiding. "Maybe that's the side he's on," Agrias said out loud.
". . ."
"If he's not working for Larg or Goltana, maybe he's one of the few that do want to change things for the better. . ."
"You mean he's for the peasantry."
Agrias felt a rebuke coming on, but held it back. "As much as we want to deny it, we do see them as different beings from the nobility." She wondered why she was sticking up for the kidnapper -a cause of much consternation, and she attributed it to what her conscience felt. "It doesn't mean I sympathize with him," Agrias finished, almost snorting at how her seemed to favor the kidnapper.
Wondering how the conversation had gotten steered this way, Agrias just gave up. "We're both breaking our promise to leave this kind of talking alone."
"What else is there to talk about," Ovelia told her sadly. Agrias was surprised when Ovelia slipped a wide, short ribbon around her hair and wrapped it in a band. "Wait, this will keep it safe while you sleep."
"Oh. . ." Agrias replied. "Whatever happens highness," Agrias told her, facing the princess, slipping back into formality, even if they were both clad in sleeping clothes on the same bed, "always remember that people out there believe and support you. We'll be doing whatever we can to make sure there's something that brings you joy to think about."
"Can you apply that pledge to yourself as well?" Ovelia said sadly. "You're duty is to me, but I want you to be happy as well."
"I'll do what I can." Agrias didn't feel so uncomfortable, even with what Ovelia was insinuating with Ramza.
***
In the other room, Ramza tried not to listen to what conversations were going on in the Agrias' and Ovelia's chamber. It was a mild discomfort the way their fading voices kept on attracting his attention, luring him against his will. He wondered if it was about him. Ramza did have somewhat of an ego, but a lot of it was fear. It had been so long since he had been around people he could consider peers that he had ceased to care about what others thought of him so much as what he thought of himself.
Needlessly said, Fort Zeakden changed him, that battle -against his own unit, the Hokuten, changed Ramza. He still wondered if he was obsessing over the battle or if he truly took the lessons inflicted to heart.
In that act of rebellion against his brothers, Ramza thought he had truly severed his connection to what the Beoulve name entailed in everything but spirit. Yet, in a sense, his brothers won the victory against him as he could still rejoin the Hokuten. . . somehow.
That was a thought that made Ramza feel shame and discontent. He had betrayed the Hokuten and slew some of its number, yet, should he choose, Ramza would be allowed back into the fold, simply because of his name.
Ramza knew he should not be thinking about this, but it was still a line of thought that he knew he had to confront -repeatedly. Even as a 'Beoulve', Ramza knew he was beneath his brothers.
He knew he was illegitimate, having been born by his father's mistress. So, even if he was above the rest of the Hokuten, he was beneath his brothers. He was alone. . . yet Ramza felt enough pride in what he thought he represented.
To serve and to protect the populace, and to uphold the law -that was what Ramza thought he fought for. . . duty to everyone under his care.
Later on, he realized, even as he graduated from the academy by being sent on an immediate field mission to root out bandits in Gariland -a dubious coincidence Ramza considered, that he held himself above others except his peers.
"A naïve hypocrite," he said softly, describing himself as he was then.
"Teta," he continued gently, "Alma. . . I thought I was good. . ."
Ramza felt himself holding back a tear. "I thought I was doing good then. . . was I?"
***
***January 7th, Year 2. Lionel Castle***
Exhaustion catching up with them, all slept through the night. Upon waking, Agrias woke Ovelia up and when they went into the front room, found only Alicia and Lavian there, finishing the remnants of breakfast for them. Agrias saw that Ramza's beddings were neatly tucked away, and although Ramza's armor was still in the room, his sword and dagger were missing.
"How late is it?" Agrias asked.
"Not late enough," Alicia quipped, yawning.
"It is still early," Lavian replied calmly. "It should only be eight o'clock in the morning."
"We've been waking up before sunrise a little too much," Alicia tossed in, wiping her hands on a cloth that was folded on her lap.
Agrias nodded before addressing what the day would bring them. "Has the cardinal brought us any word?"
Alicia shrugged. "Yeah. . . a servant brought us a planner from him," she replied, lifting up her plate and taking out a piece of parchment from beneath it.
Not commenting on Alicia's choice of a placemat, Agrias took the message and read some of the day's schedule. She nodded. It was what she expected.
"Both of you," she told the other knights, "It's a holiday. . ."
Lavian nodded pleasantly, satisfied. "Are you sure?"
Agrias only shook her head. "Don't even try the humility act. . . just enjoy yourselves for today. Its only the princess, myself, and that Mustadio boy that have to see the cardinal."
"Ramza too," Alicia said as she was chewing on her last dinner roll for breakfast.
"Excuse me?" Ovelia inquired, not quite hearing right.
Alicia gulped self-consciously, almost choking as she swallowed the still-intact piece of bread. Gasping and after pounding the table lightly with her fist, she spoke up. "The messenger told us that the cardinal said that your 'mercenary,'" she spoke, imitating the messenger's smarmy and condescending tone, "should be there since the cardinal knows that all three of us will be staying with Ovelia and he thought that only Ramza would be available to escort him."
A wave of annoyance roiled over Agrias; she forgot about that little detail. The princess and her bodyguard detail would be staying here until they were relieved, or unless the cardinal escorted them all the way to Lesalia. But, they still had Mustadio to look after, and the only one of them that could leave the princess' presence was Ramza. This lead her to one conclusion. Damn it!
"Where is Mr. Ruglia?" Ovelia asked.
"Fresh air. . ." Lavian remarked, "I think he was going to be exercising."
"Armed?" Alicia threw in sarcastically. "That servant did mention several of the local hotshots wanting to challenge 'The Princess' Champion.'" Alicia shook her head. "That man was horrible! Insults on one hand, compliments on the other. . . none of them even mentioned challenging you, boss. . . immature little boys."
As Agrias' eyes opened in alarm, Alicia sucked in a breath, finally seeing Lavian shaking her head warningly at her. If anyone was expecting more of a reaction, they were disappointed. During the rest of breakfast, as Alicia and Lavian stayed at the table, Agrias kept silent, thinking, mindlessly filling her stomach, having lost her appetite.
***
Feeling aggravated towards Ramza -who she thought must have answered at least one of the challenges, Agrias knew she could not seek him out in the castle. The fact that he wasn't leashed to Ovelia the way she was irked Agrias. Well, he'll be with us when it comes time to see the cardinal before noon, she consoled herself. In her mind, it was complete idiocy to face off for the sake of machismo.
Wondering what the protocol was when formally meeting with the lord of Lionel, Agrias thought she should wear her armor, which was currently being cleaned and prepared by Alicia and Lavian both. She brought out her formal dress tunic that was a thick deep blue, the folded back collars revealing the internal weave was in gold. Her collars covered the thin leather gloves she wore. Then came her thick leather corset, also deep blue, representing the lower half of her torso's protection. She almost laughed at her tunic's semi-skirt, which didn't cover her front, but was split in the back. Her leggings were thick, but loose leather, only reaching immediately past her knees. Underneath her toughened leather pants was a pair of silk hose that covered her feet, meant to keep her from being chafed. Her boots rode high, hugging more than halfway on her calves.
Her clothes bordered on the elaborate, but their simple trim also exemplified her as a soldier. Even the cloth material was reinforced with multiple weaves, meant to absorb heat, while her leather pieces were thick were her body stretched, and thin were her body contracted.
However, Agrias was already beginning to feel hot. She forgot how well armor insulated one's body as well as trapped any moisture. As Alicia and Lavian began to equip onto her the mithril plate breastplate, Agrias consciously kept herself from sucking in a breath.
She knew that her armor would still be scuffed, dented, and warped in several locations, but it was as close to parade dress as she could come.
Any of the castle cities maintained excellent armories, and though Lionel's smith was not her armor's creator, that person could be trusted to repair and to readjust -which Agrias hoped was unnecessary- her suit of armor, as light as it was.
Originally, in the war, she wore much heavier protection with armor covering her upper arms as well as shielding her knees. However, they had proven too strenuous, and painfully, soldiers learned to value light weight, mobility, and increased endurance over the heavy armor. Gone was her pauldrons and poleyns: the pieces of armor that protected her shoulders and kneecaps.
Agrias wasn't quite dressed for war, but she came very close. With her sword's frog wrapped around her corset's waist, all that was missing was her shield.
As to why she never wore a helm, an armored headpiece was only worn in peacetime by soldiers posting guard or involved in some other martial activity. The armored helm symbolized open hostility, and attracted attention, especially since they were the first thing shed by troops for their discomfort over long periods of time.
A stark contrast to Ovelia, clad in fresh set of replacements for her monastery robes. Even in that humble environment, Ovelia's status favored her, her off-white robe gilded with saffron filigree, whilst she wore a cinnabar mantle.
"Do you wish to do anything before we leave to meet with Cardinal Draclau?" Agrias asked.
Ovelia shook her head. "We might get lost."
"Alicia, Lavian, could you find us someone that can guide us to the cardinal?" Agrias told them. "After that, the day is yours."
"With pleasure, ma'am!" Alicia quipped, quickly yanking her partner along. Agrias had forgotten that the two carried civilian clothing in their luggage.
Ovelia giggled. "Were they afraid you would cut their free time short?"
Agrias just shrugged, a smile replacing the mute expression on her face. "They are soldiers. One of their missions in life is to enjoy it as much as they can get away with."
Ovelia just nodded.
***
Habit being formed out of years of institutionalization, Ramza found himself exercising. He did not do so to push himself, but to slow his decline, to ensure that his condition stayed as it was. Drill was bloodless combat, and combat was bloody drill. That was a maxim ingrained into him before he had entered the Gariland academy.
The Lionel soldiers were amazed when he came into their barracks to perform physical training alongside them. Ramza had woken before dawn, walked down to the kitchens, and ate breakfast with the servants. While there, he reminded the staff about what to do with his companions when they woke up.
A smirking Kim came back, dragging a sleep Mustadio into the room. When Mustadio had complained about being risen too early, Ramza told him plainly, "You will not be enjoying this shelter forever. Your discomfort will be worth your life."
"I've gotten used to running from them for weeks," Mustadio had complained.
Ramza had not commented further, having made his point. After his breakfast in the kitchens, he had Mustadio follow him. "I don't expect instant results or an immediate improvement, but you need to condition yourself."
"I have been. . ." Mustadio went along the same lines again.
Ramza shook his head. "As prey. Your weapon makes you dangerous, but it shouldn't be the only thing that defends you."
Mustadio acquiesced to that, and the two of them found themselves trying to keep pace with the Lionel soldiers. On the run around one of the walled in gardens in the castle, Mustadio fell back, but Ramza slowed down to calmly keep pace with the struggling engineer, making sure he kept running, but not forcing him.
"Focus on the architecture," Ramza told him, showing some winding in his voice, "you have to occupy your mind on something else: it won't be so painful."
Not wanting to argue, Mustadio did as Ramza advised. His body still ached, sore, tired, and aching for water, but somehow, Mustadio found himself still running. His pace grew slower with fatigue, but he still kept going forwards. "Focusing on the pain doesn't do me any good, does it?" Mustadio wheezed, trying to make light conversation.
Ramza just twisted his wrists as he ran. Mustadio took that as a shrug.
They were on the last stretch now, and even from the distance, Mustadio could see the sneers on several of the finished runners. Ramza was the one really being made fun of, and Mustadio was grateful that he stayed behind to keep him on the run.
There was no last-second sprint, as both jogged to the end of the run at the same pace they had kept for most of the circuit.
***
The cold weather in the morning was something Ramza appreciated. He didn't sweat as much as he would have, plus, he did not feel so fatigued. What he wondered was why he stood there now, in an open room in the barracks, his sheathed sword held in his left hand, across from one of the resident soldiers.
"Ramza. . . don't they have practice swords for this?" Mustadio called out to him from one wall of the spacious training room. It was remarkable in its sparseness. There was literally nothing in the room but people, no decorations, no fixtures, none except for several places in the wall that held extinguished torches. There were windows cut into the stone wall facing the inside of the castle, providing light,
Deciding against telling Mustadio his intentions, Ramza nodded. "They are not necessary."
"You're going to fight with blades?!"
Ramza shook his head, and his opponent answered for him. "We were dumb enough to enlist, but we're not that stupid." Ramza chuckled, agreeing. "There's some things that we think the servants don't need to know, and this place is off-limits to them. We want to hear anything that this mercenary can tell us seeing as it concerns what may happen to us in the future." He handed his weapon to a young squire who came in between the man he was opposite to, collecting both of their weapons.
"I don't understand. . ." Mustadio said, confused.
"They are talking about the civil war that's coming," Ramza explained dully. His voice was serious, lacking any pleasant tone. He waved his arm to invite the other soldiers closer in. "They didn't believe the cover story. Anyone could tell that the heir-apparent to the throne, especially with a dying king," Ramza raised his voice, "will not travel this far escorted only by a handful of bodyguards, a single mercenary, and a refugee," which Ramza indicated Mustadio as instead of a hunted figure.
"But the soldiers from Zaland. . ."
"Ovelia would've been escorted by a complete unit from Lesalia, and it's a long way from Orbonne to Zaland." Ramza clarified. "They," he meant the soldiers in the room with them, "are going to hear this from the cardinal himself. It won't hurt for them to know just what and why they might be fighting for."
"We're all on the same side, right?" Mustadio concluded.
"And he's part of your force?" a man wearing an archer's uniform of a green tunic and dull red pants blurted.
***
Alicia and Lavian had managed to 'induce' a wandering squire. An actual squire who had just begun his training for knighthood at the age of eleven. Agrias kept from giving them a disapproving glare as it seemed the squire was very, very apprehensive.
"We didn't force him!" Alicia blurted out, causing her partner-in- crime to wince.
Agrias took a breath, knowing that the answers she had found out about her subordinates' personalities only lead her to more confusion and frustration.
Ovelia took this moment to diffuse the situation. "He's just nervous."
Immediately, the boy fell to his right knee and his right hand, staring down to the floor as he knelt and bowed his head forward. "Y-your highness."
"Rise, sir knight," Ovelia told him pleasantly, the boy's bringing her pleasant amusement.
"I-I'm just a squire, your majesty," the boy said, afraid of even passively correcting her.
"It was an honest mistake," Ovelia said charmingly, soothing the boy, feeling sorry for him. A more experienced -and jaded- squire would not have dared to correct her. She felt comfort in comforting another. It was one of the few times when the influence -not power, which was nil- she possessed felt positive.
Deciding to save the boy from both terror and embarrassment, Agrias stepped up. "Could you please take us to the cardinal. We have a meeting with him in an hour,"
"Of course," the boy remarked crisply, before nervousness taking him over again. "The cardinal will not return from a service in town for over an hour."
Agrias nodded, calmly taking the news, acting that way on purpose to loosen the tension the poor page/squire was inflicting on himself. She glanced over at Ovelia. "We have time to tour the castle."
"Our escort is a little light," Ovelia said playfully. "Why don't we find Mr. Ruglia and ensure that all of us arrive there on time."
Agrias blinked, then sighed as she turned her attention again to their nervous guide. "Would you happen to know where my little mercenary has gotten himself into a fight?" It was only after she finished her sentence that Agrias realized that she slipped in her reference. She didn't look where Ovelia could meet her eyes on purpose.
"One of the barracks I believe," the squire replied as crisply as he could.
Well, I guess we are going to go sightseeing first, Agrias thought.
***
"So both the white and black lions are against the crown?" One of the soldiers, clad in the armor of a dragoon, called out, making a conclusion from the facts that Ramza revealed. The armor wasn't unique to Lionel. It consisted of heavy, thickened leather pants with attached boots which were strapped onto the lower section of the breastplate so as to not drag down the armored infantry's mobility. From the waist-up, he wore plate mail that was purposely an unfinished gray. For effect, the dragoon wore a one- piece helm whose fixed visor resembled that of their namesake, a dragon's crown. The ears were a stylish addition, one that was detrimental, in Ramza's opinion.
"It looks like it," Ramza told him, wanting to say otherwise, since he knew that he was overstepping what he was sure of.
"Gallione against. Zeltennia?" a knight spoke up.
"With Fovoham and Limberry declaring for either one," Ramza followed.
"Lesalia's going to get torn apart, caught in between four provinces?" the same knight followed.
"We can reinforce them!" The dragoon threw in.
Ramza shook his head. "It wouldn't matter. You wanted to know what might happen, this may be it."
"Keep going, we're all taking this with a grain of salt," the archer bade Ramza. "Why do you say its hopeless? The Church has its own military corps bastioned on Murond. That island bastion will never fall to anything. Plus, we control the Southern Front, so we can flood reinforcements into Lesalia.
"Just like we did in the war?" Mustadio piped up. Although a few of the soldiers gave him a glare implicating him as both traitor and outsider, most of the rest grudgingly agreed with his outburst, as ill-timed and provocative as it was.
"Neither of them would try to take the capital province if they are both fighting each other and they each only have a third of Ivalice's military," Ramza went on, realizing that he was treading on the hypothetical. "Plus, Lesalia's bound to be compromised already."
"How many of their front-line units are already garrisoned there?" another soldier inquired.
"The Hokuten and the Black Sheep already have their tributary units (2*) established in the capital," the archer spoke.
"Along with the Nanten, as of two weeks ago." Ramza appended.
The dragoon chuckled, squeezing his gauntlets at his side. "It really is inevitable, isn't it? The first-strike and elite units of both Ivalice's lions are being garrisoned in the capital as opposed to our borders? Unless Romanda has infiltrated a full division into the population." The last sentence was laced with sarcasm.
"Peasant revolt?" a chemist threw in as a hypothetical.
"That comes after those northern bastards tear each other apart!" the archer bitterly countered.
"We can still stop this, if we intervene!" the knight burst out.
Ramza chose to step out of the conversation at this point. Although he knew it was right to tell them that which he was sure of, he also knew that he was fanning the flames. Discipline meant that one followed orders. It didn't matter how ridiculous they seemed, except that they were created for a reason, and one had to place faith in those orders just as the officers had to place trust in the men and women who executed those commands. Yet, there were some things that should not -for the sake of morale- be hidden from a soldier.
"And that is what we are here for," Agrias announced in a clipped tone.
Naturally, some of the people in the room turned their attention to the voice of the new speaker, whose voice was new to them.
Ramza met her bemused glare without flinching, nodding at her, giving her an open expression. He wasn't denying that he did something wrong, but he also made it clear that it was what he felt was right. In other words, he believed he was justified. There would be no apology.
"Is it time to meet with the cardinal?" Ramza asked.
"We have some time yet," Ovelia spoke from behind Agrias. Ramza was the only one unsurprised by that. The princess walked forwards as Agrias secured a position in the room, noticing how all the Lionel soldiers were appraising her knight, she continued on speaking. "I am touring this castle, as well as meeting with its residents."
Taking a sidelong look at the reactions of the other soldiers, Ramza knelt and bowed his head forwards. Following his lead, the others soon followed, and only Agrias, Ovelia, Mustadio, and the apprehensive squire that was their guide were left standing in the room filled with almost a hundred people.
"You may rise. . ." Ovelia said awkwardly, feeling a reprehensive that she potentially embarrassed a group of soldiers who if anything, were supporting her. Tentatively, she wondered what she would say next, as the soldiers automatically came to casual attention. None of them would speak until she left the room or addressed them directly with a question. "About what Mr. Ruglia has told you. . ." she began, giving a helpless look towards Ramza. "I will not deceive you," she told them honestly, wondering why it felt so good to release the truth like that, as if the secrecy was eating away at her from the inside. "The chances for war are great, but I have come here to seek your cardinal-" she halted, "your help," she amended, "to prevent war from ravaging Ivalice again."
Ramza and Agrias both felt out of sync as the other soldiers in the room saluted firmly, giving a collective grunt. There were things about group unity and pack mentality that appealed to them. Startled by the spontaneous display of respect, Ovelia looked at Ramza, the only one in the mass of soldiers that had not participated; Mustadio was standing up against the wall, simply looking on, curious.
"Relax. . ." Ramza said calmly, striding towards Agrias and the princess. He was thinking about the loyalty of these soldiers. It didn't hurt for the princess to personally impress potential supporters.
Not knowing what else to say, Ovelia gave a light nod of her head, knowing that these men and women were committing their lives -and their loved ones' lives- to the breach by supporting her. "There is no reward great enough. . ." she mumbled.
Their eyes catching, Ramza and Agrias took a sobering breath as they agreed; no, there isn't.
What have you done? Agrias pondered in her mind, wondering if Ramza recruited a full company of mixed soldiers for the princess. You can't be real. . . Agrias thought, exasperated -yet proud.
***
Lead by the adolescent squire -Macaulay was his name- Ramza walked behind Agrias and Ovelia. Mustadio was actually ahead of their guide, looking around curiously at how the castle was built.
For better or for worse, Agrias waited until they had left the Lionel soldiers of that barracks to talk to Ramza. She ignored the local squire in front of them. "Why did you talk to them about our situation?"
"They are allies," Ramza pointed out.
"Not yet," Agrias countered. "Being too open will backfire on us -it isn't your own welfare you hold in your hands."
"If they weren't for us, we are already dead," Ramza pointed out.
"I. . . I value their loyalty in me," Ovelia said, stopping the escalation of frustrated arguing between the Holy Knight and the mercenary squire. "Yet, I agree with Agrias: we haven't talked to the cardinal about our situation in-depth yet."
Slowing her step to fall in beside Ramza, Agrias turned her head to him. "I trust you. . ." she whispered. "But you confuse me so often. . ."
"As you do to me. . ." Ramza gently replied. "It isn't all in our hands anymore."
"And I'm thankful for that. . ." Agrias admitted. Secretively, she sought Ramza's hand in hers and she was surprised to see him anticipate her and meet her groping attempt in his grasp. Again, she detested the lack of feeling she received because of the heavy gloves she wore. Agrias appreciated it still, breathing audibly before separating from him and taking her place with the princess.
"I thought the cardinal's office was located in another level of the keep," Ramza pointed out, bringing up what he had learned from the castle's residents.
"You're right," Mustadio agreed from where we paced ahead of the group. "This corridor looks familiar."
Shrugging, Agrias took a look back and gave Ramza a knowing look. "I don't know, but you do need to prepare for the meeting."
"I lack a uniform. . ." Ramza replied.
"Gafgarion doesn't believe in them!" Agrias cracked. "Your armor is enough," she told him, giving him a helpless smile.
***
"At my first opportunity," Agrias told him bluntly, "I'm going to take you to an armory."
Ramza nodded, shrugging. "This was my first suit of armor that I purchased with my own funds. More or less, we were only meant to fight bandits." He watched Agrias carefully as he said that statement, and she gave him an indulgent look.
"I have better armor protection than you and yet my armor is only half the weight." Agrias pointed out.
Mustadio grunted. "Doesn't matter anymore." Everyone knew what he meant. Soberly, he continued. "Guns are beginning to catch on. Their still expensive and atrocious to maintain. . ."
Agrias shuddered. The idea of a such a weapon. . .
"I agree. . . better to never get hit at all, but sometimes you'll take being encumbered -even slightly- to being mangled by something a thin piece of metal or leather could've stopped."
Agrias took a look at her mercenary. Ramza had worn a hay-colored, long-sleeved shirt with dull red thickened leather pants cut to accommodate his battle boots. She realized that the red matched his eyes. The boy was so pale in some spots that she had seen last night that she wondered if he was albino. His hair wasn't pale enough though. . ..
Ramza's purple breastplate was patched and dented, yet the visible damage and abuse on it added to its image to reliability. With Ramza's calm and accepting demeanor, the battle-worn armor had a sense of dignity.
Agrias caught herself thinking about him too much and told herself to get back to business. Taking a look at Mustadio, she asked him, "Do you need to prepare?"
"I'm wearing everything that I own."
There was pity to be found in that statement, as well as something Agrias found almost disturbing: something that almost resembled contempt towards the disenfranchised. Condescendence? Agrias asked herself. She walked into the other room. "Princess?" she politely addressed Ovelia, "There is nothing left to do before seeing the cardinal."
Ovelia gave her a pretended petulant look. Although her robes and mantle made it difficult, she laid down on the bed and laughed. "But I don't want to!" she said in a mock-whine.
Agrias just laughed. The humor was out there, but that's what Agrias thought they needed.
***
"This is the chapel. . ." Mustadio commented, straying ahead -again- of the guiding squire.
"So it is true," Agrias said from where she walked immediately to the right and in front of Ovelia. "He does work from the altar. . ."
Ramza kept any statements to himself as they walked down the corridor. It was located on one corner of the keep, as evidenced by one wall decorated with stained glass windows. He didn't lag behind, but Ramza did not know where he fit. To be safe, he chose to follow Ovelia. Since Mustadio was ignorant when it came to etiquette, he was excluded from this code of conduct.
When Agrias and Ovelia crossed the threshold into the chapel itself, Ramza looked on as both kneeled and crossed themselves, before walking down the aisle towards the raised altar. Ramza did not kneel, but gaze forwards at the back of the chapel, at the altar, having questions he knew he shouldn't ask. He didn't follow them immediately, instead walking over to a stand of candles. He looked upon row and row of lit candles. His breathing slowed.
"Excuse me, sir," he heard a familiar woman's voice say behind him. Turning around, he saw Kevin sitting in one of the pews on the left side of the back of the chapel. Right behind Ramza had been Kim, who had gotten out of her seat upon seeing him. She held a purse up to him and offered him two candles. She gave him a sad smile, and he was grateful that she did not say what was on her mind -which was obvious to all.
Ramza took the two, giving Kim an appreciative -yet somber, expression. He remembered that now, he only needed one candle to be lit in remembrance. As he sheepishly tried to give her back the second candle, Kim shook her head, telling him, nodding her head towards the stands of candles. "Not all of them represent someone that was lost. . ."
Ramza nodded, and Kim was satisfied with that simple answer, and returned to her pew, sidling herself against Kevin, who just gave him a 'what-can-you-do' expression.
Taking the candles in his right hand, Ramza was very careful. With his gloves, layered on the wrist side by metal tabs sewn onto the leather, Ramza had no real sense of touch, the feeling of the candles -waxy, soft, and vulnerable- lost to him. Taking the first, he lit it from one of the other candles. Holding the candle at an angle for a few seconds, Ramza waited as it began to cry molten wax. Finding a place on the edge of the stand, Ramza cemented the weeping candle with its dried tears.
Ramza looked down at its partner in his right hand.
"The past, the present, or the future?" Agrias asked him gently, causing Ramza to turn towards the altar. Just in front of him was Agrias, standing there, regarding him with a sad expression. She didn't wait for him to respond, but stood closer to him, taking a look down at the candle she planted. Eyes of oak met eyes of blood and Agrias had her answer for what the candle symbolized to Ramza.
Ramza offered the candle to Agrias, looking upon her tenderly and with his own sorrow. His smile was of sympathy, not of joy.
As Agrias raised her hand to refuse, she held back, instead touching the back of Ramza's hand with her left, taking her covered index finger and running it down the metal plate on the wrist of Ramza's glove. "A prayer. . ." she told him, holding his eyes.
Ramza exhaled audibly, agreeing. Awkwardly, both of them tilted their linked arms, using the flame from the first candle, and held it there, mesmerized as they stared into the glow of their candle. It was only when the first rivulet of waxen tears fell onto Agrias' gloved hand that they left their moment of peace.
Together, they watched as their candle wept, not for what had been lost, but out of relief and gratitude for what may come to be, for being able to survive to that point. Agrias felt a small release occur as she took both their linked hands down and planted their hopes and prayers on dried tears.
Still holding his hand, Agrias turned and took a look towards the altar. She caught sight of Alicia and Lavian sitting in the pews up ahead, giving her looks, but Agrias did not care, not wondering why they were in the chapel. Even as Ovelia gawked at her awkwardly, making no attempt to shield her curiosity
The moment was still Ramza's and hers. Even if separated in the future, their prayers and hopes were the same. Agrias drew comfort and security from that. Ramza squeezed her hand.
From his perspective, Agrias almost glowed. If it wasn't for the fact that Ramza placed their candle besides where the first was on the edge, Ramza could not tell which one it was from the multitudes of other remembrances, prayers, and symbols of gratitude that so many other people set there, in this place.
To him, the candle was not temporal. That flame of hope would burn forever now. . . for the longest time, it was his alone to bear, to shield from despair, something that he clung to. With Agrias, Ramza felt that it was something he could live by.
***
***Author's Notes***
*Footnotes:
(1*) Here's the 'dirty' joke: It refers to how Agrias has to go to the latrine as compared with the 'rest of the guys'. . . immature, yes, but what toilet humor isn't?
(2*) A tributary unit in this reference are other military units that are connected to a main unit. An example of this would be their baggage train, a medical detachment, a group of engineers, and of course, actual combat units that are green or non-elite in status that they use to fill their own ranks with after depletion (discharged or killed).
As in, if the Nanten Knights suffered considerable casualties after a battle, during refitting, instead of downgrading its size or rooting through fresh recruits for reinforcements, the Nanten could pull soldiers from a specific unit or two that is similar to itself (sort of a field- training unit), and those new troops would be more or less properly trained to fulfill what the Nanten needs, as opposed to taking even a veteran soldier from another elite unit who has no idea as to what the Nanten is about or what he needs to do to assimilate.
*End Footnotes
Finally, the story becomes more political. . . and I made it personal again at the end. . .
The power of personality and that of physical presence -yep, Ovelia's gaining a small following. Nothing like the threat of Civil War to make a person choose a side and fight for it.
Not meaning to condescend, but I want to point this out: This becomes important in due time in the story.
I wanted to cover Ovelia a bit more, and I'm thinking that I'm making her too strong a figure, but then again, she's being raised on some level for this.
Note how the responsibility, power, and authority is technically being forced onto her.
Ramza's acting more independent. . . boredom I guess, as well as his personal convictions coming to the fore.
Yes, this was an indirect way of me explaining the backdrop of this story, with the soldiers talking amongst themselves (note how Ramza is left behind in the conversation) about the possibilities of war, and I had to throw in the peasant revolt bit -not quite foreshadow, but a few of those soldiers (hey, its mixed peasantry and nobility in that room) have to be bitter themselves about the caste system.
I wanted to go a bit further with this chapter, but then I remembered, its been over a month since I've seen that scene (where Draclau talks to them) and I'm going to make mistakes. Lazy me hasn't gotten around to replaying that. . . as well as I liked where I ended the scene.
I don't want to go into detail describing that segment. . . I tried to make what I wanted to get through obvious, and its one of the few times I just wrote on symbolism, theme and emotion and yeah. . . stuff!
If you've noticed the semi-perspective changes often in scenes where there should only be one real viewpoint (Ramza's or Agrias'), kudos. I write a lot of the story in between periods of time where I have nothing else to do. . . I really do need to commit myself more.
***Author's Notes***
***Readers' Response Corner***
First off. . . kudos to Teknos Warhammer; reviews like that more or less render Author's Notes and Readers' Response Corners' redundant. Thank you for understanding so easily.
Hmm, to tackle a few concerns raised:
Minka-chan. . . when the 'marriage' remarks came up, it wasn't Agrias saying that she WANTED to marry Ramza at that point (irony considering the chapel scene you just read. . .). There was a lot of teasing and exaggerating going on. However, for an 'old maid' like Agrias is (age 21- 22. . . and she isn't hitched yet? That's ancient in Ivalice unless she's a widower or a divorcee), yeah, Ramza is something to kill for, and being a soldier, I would assume Agrias would know to take happiness when she can, even if it may or may not conflict with her duties (just how much of a distraction Ramza is hasn't been cleared up yet).
Digression time: I'm sorry if I get this wrong, but you're female, aren't you? Sorry, but by the way that you talk (type), you seem very feminine and young. Moving back onto the main thread. . .
At this point, Agrias knows she more or less wants Ramza, but then again, with her personality. . . its a long, long road, yet, Ramza is there to accelerate it, wanted or not. And yes, there will be problems because of that (damned if he does, damned if he doesn't. . .). I'd like to go more along this point, but that'd be committing myself to plot events that I haven't written down yet.
By the way, I forgot to thank you and the others for giving me links to potential source and background material. I really appreciated that ^_^. I'm still trying to find unmodified profiles of Ramza (with the purple armor) and Agrias since I'm trying to create a wallpaper of sorts to decorate my desktop.
If I ever get the materials I need for that pic project, anyone's welcome to ask me for a copy.
Also, Harvey might edit a compilation of the entire story -to date. He will not be posting it on fanfiction.net (too lazy to repost all the chapters and it's a violation of fanfiction.net's rules to post duplicates). Reason: He wants to standardize the story and to check for minor and massive errors.
Well, Ilvinaeda. . . yes, Alicia does have a coarse sense of humor. When she brought up the 'sweaty stud,' she was pointing out to Agrias that even she (Agrias) has hormones and is attracted to the opposite sex (as opposed to telling her superior that she has a hair up her ass the size of a bridge cable -that's out of line even for her) like anyone is and Agrias is fooling only herself if she thinks that she isn't.
I can't really apologize since that IS how I want Alicia's personality to be like: Open and very expressive, not just in happiness, but also in anger.
She's a foil to Lavian, who's more of the bookish, reserved type. Lavian is probably even more a stick in the mud than Agrias is. Scary once you think about it. . .
She does have a libido too, as well as picking up some of Alicia's sense of humor.
By the way. . . don't become defensive about your review. Its my job as an author to cover my ass (its so easy to offend others. . .) so there isn't any confusion.
The reason I ask people to comment on my portayal of the characters, especially the female ones, is because I have no definitive idea of how they think. I have no clue. . . and I sometimes wonder if I am taking things out too far.
Ah, Highwaywoman. . . I'm glad I didn't disappoint. Yeah, as to the song, well, I figure it was the perfect thing to go along with Agrias' hormone rush (look, seeing Ramza half-naked, glistening with water in a towel HAS to draw a reaction out of her. . .). Just imagine if Ramza was actually moving along to the music.
As to the breaking part. . . its inevitable, and hopefully, Agrias doesn't become melodramatic as she's drifted towards in a couple of segments.
I can say this much about the future of the story. Within a week, it all goes to hell.
Other songs I am considering: (and yes, I am aware that I haven't written a single word in the first ACTUAL SongScene to be released).
*Sixpence None the Richer "Kiss Me"
Its nice, its romantic, and most important, its very open. I think Agrias is capable of singing something like this. She's not the Ice Queen. If anything, I figure she's most relaxed during the storm since people like her will prepare and anticipate beyond reason about how to prevent it (if possible) before it occurs.
*Fuel "Shimmer"
Nice, and some of the emotions seem similar to "Hemorrhage", except this would be in the hopeful stage. Thing is, this is Ramza singing this to someone else asides from Agrias. Alma maybe?
*Sel(i or e?)na "Dreaming of You"
I intend this to be sung by Agrias while seperated from Ramza and/or after their relationship has (its not a matter of may, I'm not stupid enough to be so indecisive or deceptive about that intent) reached a 'certain' level.
*Aretha Franklin "Rescue Me"
I finally found the artist who sang this song best. . .
As to why. . . well, take away the repetitiveness, and it is going to become very, very ironic in reference to what happens to Agrias after Ramza leaves to take Mustadio to Goug. Yet, this song has to be clipped (I can only use part of the song since it repeats so much).
Black Chocobos:
*The Cardigans "My Favorite Game"
It has the emotions I want for Agrias, yet, the lyrics repeat too much. . . plus I don't want to write the story so it fits the song.
*Metallica "Nothing Else Matters"
Yes. Exactly. Ramza singing with that type of deep voice. Yet, the song itself seems appropriate. It deals with the trust issues quite so well including the entire outcast (heretic) angle that develops later in the game's storyline.
*REM "Losing My Religion"
Self explanatory. Might be a good duet or alternate singer song. However, its too stretched out. Background music yes, not as something to be sung really. . .
Comments thus far on Truth and Reality's soundtrack?
The tracks on my Soundtrack playlist on WinAmp3:
Goo Goo Dolls - Iris (Acoustic) Lifehouse - Hanging By a Moment Evanescence - Bring Me to Life Vertical Horizon - Everything You Want Garbage - I Think I'm Paranoid Fuel - Shimmer (Acoustic) Sixpence None the Richer - Kiss Me Three Doors Down - Here Without You Aretha Franklin - Rescue Me Sel(e or i?)na - Dreaming of You
And of course. . . Crazy's Town's "Butterfly"
***Readers' Response Corner***