Based in the universe of FFXI. Thanks to SquareEnix. I am making not one cent off of this ficcery. Foul legal demons, back I say!
2 – Convergence
It was unseasonably hot in Valkurm, which is to say that the desert, already a place known for the less than accommodating daytime temperatures, was more able than ever to burn through the soles of any adventurer's shoes. Which is why she ran. She kept telling herself this, and this made things okay. She wasn't particularly concerned with the pack of goblins that tailed her, and she certainly didn't mind that one of the goblins had said something about using her tail as a necklace. Bastard.
She slowed down her pace somewhat, seeing an oasis amidst the dunes. The water there didn't interest her, she had enough to last the rest of her trip.
"Nine little goblins, having their fun…" she sang softly, reaching for her quiver and her composite bow.
She kept moving until she found herself in the shade of a palm tree in the oasis. Turning to face the goblins, she found that they had slowed considerably. Use her tail as a necklace? They had to learn something about wearing that kind of armor in this heat first.
She pulled one arrow from the quiver, twirling it around lazily. Leaning against the tree, he leveled her bow at the enemy, her eyes searching among them for the one she wanted. Hearing a squeak, she glanced at her feet, and found a Valkurm leech staring right back at her.
"Hello to you too!" she said brightly.
It squeaked and shuffled off towards a small herd of its' kind. Her eyes became mere slits. Found the rotten little troublemaker. She twirled the arrow a little faster, bringing it down on the bow, the crack of the haft slapping against the bow silencing all of the leeches. Her tail slid over to the quiver and tugged at another shot.
"One made me late, and then there werrrre eight."
Inhale. Pull. Exhale. Loose.
The arrow, crafted from the carapaces of giant scorpions found in caves across Vana'diel, did not waste time getting to the target and through its' left eye, just between the view slits of the helm. The shot propelled the smaller creature off of its' feet, pinning it to the sand dune it stood on a dozen feet from the other goblins. They did not react to this very well, which is to say they were furious, which is to say that they beat a furious retreat across the sands when a second arrow nearly relieved a goblin of an arm.
The mithra scratched at her ears, shook the sand out of her short silver hair, hearing the now scattering troop wail about their misfortune. They had picked the wrong ranger to accost. She sat down in the shade, tugging at her shirt to fan herself.
A leech whimpered and hopped over to her. It reared back, obviously expecting food.
"No, I'm not letting you eat my ammunition." To that, it yelped. She reached out and pet it behind the 'ears'. "I know it's such a harrrd life. You get to sit around and eat sand all day, I get chased by goblins." She looked at the horizon. She was very late, and her client was probably going to be worried sick. The outpost was close, and another short sprint from there would get her to Selbina. And from there…
She needed to thank him.
-
"Callah, what kept you? I was worried you'd been taken down the by the desert." The mithra shrugged at the hume, a rat of a man, shorter than she was, and somehow less muscular.
"Goblins. They won't trouble me again." She pointed at her quiver of arrows. "Another mission from the Tenshodo?"
"No. This one comes from another." Callah bared her fangs and picked up the scrawny hume, slamming him against the wooden wall of the inn they chose to meet behind. "The hell do you-"
"Not frrrrom the Tenshodo!" Not from… Him.
"No, no! Calm down Callah! This will pay you good money! I swear it!"
"What worth is it? He didn't give this assignment out, did he?" She sounded hurt.
"Aldo is a busy man, and there are thousands of adventurers supporting the organization. Missions from them are not as plentiful as there are supporters." The blond man readjusted his black robes. "Must you mithra be such a rough people?"
"Can I meet him after this?"
"If he has the time." He presented a hand painted image of another hume. "Kill him. The man who asked me this did not care how it was done. Just that it be done immediately." Callah looked at the picture, studying the face of the unsuspecting target.
"I am not an assassin."
"Two hundred thousand gil up front." The man's voice was even, deadpan. She just about fainted.
"W-Who wants him dead so badly?" she managed to ask, now looking at the picture with more interest. He seemed plain enough for a hume, the artist captured that much easily. Shoulder length brown hair, eyes of matching color. Said to be six feet tall, seven inches taller than she was. "Up…up front?"
The black robed man started counting the pieces from a bag he held, scratching them deeply with a dagger to show authenticity. Bastokan gil. It was real. Oh Altana, no it couldn't. This is a lie, this is not real.
"One hundred and fifteen thousand." The robed man marked another gil plate. Golden, engraved with the mark of Bastok in cerulean mythril.
"Who is the one who gave you this assignment?"
"He did not say."
-
The desert would make a poor place for an ambush. She would need to find a better place to do such an act. The target was said to be traveling through San d'Oria to parts unknown. There were many places prepare an ambush.
I'm not a murderer, this is business. If I can see Aldo after this, and give him my thanks, then the life of one common hume can be taken to see one who saved my life.
She stared at the picture.
Sorry, whoever you are. My life debt is more important than your life.
La Theine Plateau then. Any adventurer with a set of brains would head to the largest freshwater source after crossing the desert, and the Ephemere was a straight shot to those interested in a faster, dangerous path. She would wait here.
I've never done this before.
The artist of the picture had captured a smile on his face.
Aldo.
She dipped another arrow into a caustic brew she had synthesized herself. A direct hit would kill the man, and would be mercifully quick about it.
"Grab on to my hand!"
"Aldo! I'm not going to make it!"
"My sister would never forgive me if I left you! Now grab my hand!"
Another arrow prepared. She watched the water of the small lake, watching the fish break the surface to feed. It was the end of the mating season for the local crab population, but they were still out in greater numbers than usual, the sight of so many out and about on the shores of the lake unique in Vana'diel.
"I lost all of my family. My mother fought them, and the beastmen broke through, and I'm- I am all that remains!"
"So am I. We're survivors."
"Why are you smiling then?"
" I know I am not alone. If I can survive, then you can. Callah, I am headed to San d'Oria. Would you accompany me?"
"Yes!"
"But I never made it there with you!" Callah said, her voice filled with raw emotion.
"Aldo! ALDO! I'll find you! I will find you!"
"I believe you, now get going!"
-
Concentrate. See the wound close, feel it. Channel your spirit, your faith.
She wore the attire of an accomplished Red Mage, the very same color splashed most of her clothing. Her feather cap was off kilter, revealing stray strands of red hair, and blue eyes focused on the writhing young male elvaan under her palms.
"Stop moving…" she whispered. With sallow eyes, the boy stared back into hers.
Slowly, the place where an orc had impaled the young one closed, memories, dried blood, and torn cloth were all that remained of the experience. Around the two elvaan were the corpses of several orc, burned in various ways, cut or stabbed, but most important of all, dead, at the hands of this red mage.
She helped the boy to his feet. She had been traveling through west Ronfaure and fortunately for the child had come across the orc preparing the child for a feast. A very cliché situation, to be sure. Sadly, it was one that was happening far too often. The beastmen were on the move.
"Who are you? Th-thank you very much for saving me!"
"I am Variste Mellanege."
"I'm lost." The boy confessed.
"Well then, Lost, let us get you to the city gates." She patted the boy on the head. Then she shoved him to the side, drawing her weapon once again. Orcish Farkiller? So close to the capital?
The orc in question was a fair distance away, using the local shrubbery for camouflage. In the forest, it blended well with the surroundings. This early on a Watersday, the mist was making conditions even worse.
She knocked an arrow aside with a deft flick of the dagger she wielded. The movement blew a gust of wind that pushed the boy farther away. It's… It still wants to protect me?
"Take this… A gift from the gods…" the hume spoke, lips cracked, life blood draining away faster by the second.
"Keep it! I am a White Mage, and I do not need such a weapon!"
"She will protect you when you need it most… She will protect us all…"
"Stop it! STOP IT!"
He wouldn't stop bleeding! He wouldn't-
"Altana! ALTANAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" she cried. "Make it stop!"
He was falling apart under her hands, her healing hands, blessed by the gods, and yet-
Her right hand lifted up in front of her face. Even at this distance, she could tell by the body language of the orc that the defeat of its' arrow was greatly unsettling. It was about to get worse.
She formed seven seals with the hand, each seal held a meaning. Another gust of wind.
"Ninpo! Utsusemi: Ni!"
She ran at the orc.
A second arrow was fired, wide, to her left, killing the duplicate shadow of her with ease and burying itself into a tree. A third, this one wide to her right. She was close now. A fourth arrow, just missing her head, taking off the feathered hat.
Her right hand formed another set of seals.
"Ninpo, Tonko: Ichi." She whispered.
In its' last moments, the orc saw the elvaan woman vanish from sight. Immediately afterwards, it saw a flicker of movement, a pair of daggers falling past the edges of its' sight and then-
The orc, its head rolling down a small part of the hillside, fell to the ground with a wet thump. Variste stored one dagger into a pocket on the inside of her aketon jacket, having come open when she prepared for the kill. The other dagger, Garuda's Dagger, slid into its' own small sheath next to a rapier.
"It's safe now." She smiled at the boy.
"What was that? What kind of mage are you?"
"One of Altana's lost sheep. Come on, the city will be much safer than around here."
"You're strange."
"And you are lost in your own front yard." She took the boy's hand, and they took their leave of the orcish campground.
-
"Thank you! Thank you milady!" the father was saying. Variste nodded, accepting the praise detachedly. She found herself staring at the dagger. "My son, he would have been dead if not for you!"
"I did the right thing. I have these healing hands for a reason."
"ALTAAAANAAAAAAAA! WHY DID YOU TAKE HIM?"
"Do you need anything? Anything at all? I am a blacksmith, I can make you weapons, armor, anything! For the life of my boy, no reward is too great."
"No, no. I did what anyone would do. I cannot accept your gift, I have long since lost my loyalty to my home." She put the dagger away into its' sheath. "Forgive me, I should be going."
"Your name, madam. Please?"
"Variste… There comes a time where faith alone cannot save those you love." He had said.
"Altana… Does she not care for us? Love us?"
"Altana is nothing that concerns this world any longer. I can give you the path." The elvaan in black gently turned her face away from the summoner, still as the stones that dotted the plains. "I learned that to protect others, one must accept the fact that we must forsake religion. Our faith. The shadows are a lonely path, but they also lead to salvation."
She held the dagger with both of her pale hands.
"He gave this to me…"
"I will await you in Norg. Come alone." The mercenary began to walk away. "Either path you take, you will not be alone. You and I are all that remain of us. I will watch over you."
"I understand." The father's eyes showed that he recognized the name. "My adopted son was with you then. Carry on then, adventurer."
"I could not let a father lose a second child." Variste said as she left the home.
She should not have come back.
-
He'd long since removed the doublet upon reaching the desert. The simple cloth underneath the breastplate was unbearable, but to have his skin burned by the heated armor would have been worse. He trudged through the desert, exhausted. Was it a mistake to have left the safety of the cave so soon? La Theine was a good day's walk from where he stood, Selbina was looking far more inviting, and closer. If not for some rest, for some pub girls, or some damned water.
"Ah, Arngrim, you stubborn bastard. What did you get yourself into?"
Selbina it was then.
The damselfly herds across the sands droned on, lost in the winds and the blowing sand. He held the elvaan longsword in one hand, trying to stay alert. He shielded his face with his free hand, trying to see. Straight on, if he hadn't wandered off course, a very real possibility. He could hear Stiltzkin now, berating his choice to venture out on foot. He had meant it to be a way to give himself time to think. Always have I needed to find out about things the hard way. He certainly had made good time! Two days out from Bastok, and he was here dying in the dunes. He might have made it here in a day if he had taken a chocobo. Had he requisitioned the services of a capable mage, he could have been in San d'Oria by now.
"Need to give this back." He shook the blade at the sand, as if it was responsible for his predicament.
"Alone without water are we?" Arngrim spun around, searching for the new voice. The sandstorm intensified for a moment, but soon enough, a black robed hume was visible.
"I've enough."
"Not nearly. Care for a sip?" The blond hume proffered a canteen. Arngrim nodded in thanks before taking it. "The name is Galanin, a pleasure."
"Arngrim Gustavos. Point me to La Theine, if you could."
"Headed for San d'Oria?" The newcomer adjusted his spiky blond hair. "You were in the Iron Musketeers. I heard about you."
"Good to know. The reality is that I eat, drink, and kill."
Galanin could see, even in this sandstorm, that this was a beaten man. Not by the desert, but by something else.
"I am giving this sword back to its owner you see."
"To the northeast, friend. We can get to the Ephemere by the late afternoon if we move now. Never enough water, if you ask me."
"Then let us continue." Arngrim smiled. "I suppose the company is not so bad after all."
-
Variste had left the capital on foot, her eyes focused more on Garuda's Dagger than her path. Gods, it still hurt! Why did it still hurt? She shook her head, angry at herself. She shouldn't cling to the past so! She'd been taught to be a better woman than this! Unnacceptable!
The tears still came, and she tried to hide them, shut her eyes tightly. Ramir. They lived together. Trained together. Sinned together. A quest for San d'Oria later, and she was alone-
Not alone, the master had taken her in, had tried to help her forget the past. And here she was, a sad little girl near the borders leading to La Theine.
"Ma'am, are you well?" the knight on duty at the outpost moved away from her post, placing a hand on Variste's shoulder.
"I'll be fine." The woman blinked away the signs of her being otherwise.
One last time then, Ramir. I need to let you go.
Why had she come back to San d'Oria?
She could be at their lake in an hour.
-
"You work for the Tenshodo?" Arngrim asked as they caught first sight of La Theine Plateau.
"The robes give it away?" Galanin laughed. "Yes, it's how I heard of you. You recently got some recognition from Aldo himself, something to do with safeguarding a shipment of goods to Jeuno from Bastok. I decided I'd ask around about you."
"I didn't think there was much to be found out about me." The warrior sighed. "The Iron Musketeers sealed a lot of my records after I left them upon my request." Arngrim tapped the hilt of his weapon. "I'll pay the organization back within a few days. Once I finish with this errand, I am off to Jeuno."
"Talk with the big man himself?" Galanin whistled. "Even I don't get to speak with him." He noted Arngrim's hand moving along the hilt of the longsword. "I'm no debt collector. If I was, you'd be in a lot more trouble. Turns out, I've got a few debts to pay myself. After this next job, I'll be home free." The monk bounced into the air. "Yes indeed! Free of debts!"
"If we could all share your boundless energy, Galanin." Arngrim took another gulp of water. "How long until the Ephemere?"
"Good water there." Galanin mused. "At this pace, taking the main roads, about three hours."
Thunder rumbled in the air.
"We better hurry before that storm hits. On the plus side, I can get us a few crabs and make a meal out of them." The monk moved his cloak to one side, revealing hidden daggers, a pair of katars, and a pan of some sort. "Gotta eat, you know."
-
Callah shifted reflexively to sight in on the new arrival to the lake. Red Mage? Why is she…
The elvaan woman in question fell to her knees before the lake, and sobbed once, clearly fighting for greater control over her grief. Callah sighed. Another one with lost loves, a tragic past, you name it. Everyone had one of those these days, a gil a dozen really. The war twenty years prior was terrifying to the mithra to this day, those memories of her family, the murderers over their bodies. So many had fallen then.
Callah found herself wanting to leave the perch in the tree, wanting to talk to the mage. She had her own misgivings about life at the moment. That she accepted so much gil to end another was chief among them.
Then, coming over a hill, she saw two figures. Only this once, Altana forgive me, only this once.
"What's with that elvaan?" Galanin asked aloud. He scanned the trees.
"I can't believe I made this distance in such short time." Arngrim mused. "How can you tell that is an-"
"Eyes, my friend, and the ones I've been given are quite excellent."
"Can I really keep this weapon, Ramir?" Variste asked softly, stroking the soil near the lake almost lovingly. "Do I really need such a thing?"
A light rain began to fall over La Theine.
Author's Note: Well, chapter two was completed officially at 3:45 AM on January 31, 2005. I have received a pair of very encouraging reviews, and people outside of have given me constructive criticisms and praise, which helped this chapter along. To those who review my story, and have their own works waiting to be reviewed in kind, I apologize for not returning the favors. Life has thrown several curveballs my way. Also, to those who may or may not notice, I will have replaced the version of chapter one you see with one that I edited using comments I received from others. It should be a bit more enjoyable. As always, I appreciate reader comments, and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.
And like a man ten minutes out of rehab already doing lines of coke with the same undercover police officer who threw him in jail three years prior, I have returned to FFXI. I'm a warrior on Remora, though I will leave his name as a surprise in the next chapter. Good afternoon, good evening, and good night!