Leave the city at once and go straight south. Do not stop until you reach the coast.
Ragnar had fulfilled the first part of the instructions at least.
By now, the youth was rather tired and growing hungry. All night last night, and up through the early hours of the morning, he had done just that. He hiked all the way to the south. He passed through the dark Sleeping Forest until he reached regular woods on the other side. At that point, he had to watch for creatures and monsters that were unfriendly. He also got to enjoy the sensation of being devoured by mosquitoes. The regular forest was also more overgrown, forcing himself to push through less clear ground. He bumped his ankles, had his already ragged clothing torn more, and got a few scratches and scrapes from low-hanging branches. On top of it all, he had already gone so far yesterday that his feet were killing him. Yet still, he pushed on.
Sometime after midnight he came through into Bone Village. Ragnar didn't know much about this place, only that it was some sort of excavation site. Nowadays, students on an archeological dig were the only ones that visited it. There were none of them now, and Ragnar wandered through the large skeletons and continued his way south. The sun gradually began to rise after that. The forest broke up around him, and the hills became more clear and rolling. He was still at a pretty high elevation above sea level, but he continued going down slightly as he made his way south. Once the sun was up, he was still walking. His legs were burning a little by then, and he was getting rather thirsty. Yet still he kept walking. It grew warmer out…much warmer than usual. He wasn't used to being in so much heat. He thought of discarding his cloak, but instead pulled the hood off and continued on.
Sometime before noon he finally reached the sea. He saw it from a ways off, of course. He didn't quite recognize it at first. The horizon had just looked funny. But as he drew closer, he began to realize that the horizon was widening. As he went closer than that, he saw it was flat, and had a tint of blue on it. That was when he realized he was looking at the ocean. He was astonished by it. He had never seen anything like it at Icicle Inn, and had never imagined it being so big and endless. All up and down in front of him, stretching to one end of the world and back, was nothing but water. It looked like the end of the world. Not the slightest hint of land could be seen anywhere, and as he drew nearer he still saw nothing. The breezes began to grow salty as they blew up from the ocean to him. The ocean itself was pretty calm, not having any waves or signs of any trouble. In fact, there wasn't a soul anywhere for miles, as far as Ragnar could see.
The youth continued walking down to the shore. His feet gradually went off the ground and sank into the soft sand. At that, he began to realize something unfortunate about beaches. Sand frequently got in your shoes. He initially stopped to dump them, but soon realized that was hopeless, and ignored it and kept going. Not long after, he noticed something just ahead. An old, rotted pier, half crumbled, was sitting on the beach and just over the ocean. The young man walked up to it, and felt it once he was there. It was wet and old, but stable enough. The sun had already baked most of it dry. With nothing better to do, Ragnar sat on top of the edge of it, and relaxed.
The young man yawned loudly. He hadn't slept since the morning of the day he found his sister, which was two nights ago. He hadn't eaten since then either. Hunger was gnawing at his belly, and he felt thirsty and tired from his long trip. He was glad that his legs got some relief at least as he reclined. He paused for a little while just to take a break from his endless march for the past hours. But once he had relaxed, he tiredly reached back into his pocket and pulled out the wrinkled envelope from earlier. He pulled out the piece of paper, and then looked at it again. He skipped the first two sentences and went to the next.
A fisherman will be by around noon. Get on his boat and go south to where he'll let you off on the Eastern Continent.
Ragnar sighed and put the paper away. He looked overhead. The sun was nearing noon, but it could still be an hour off for all he knew. He looked back down and looked to the wide ocean. He was rather thirsty, but he had read somewhere that the ocean was filled with salt water, and it would kill you if you drank it. With that in mind, he had to sit there. The sun was hotter here on the beach, and it wasn't long before the youth loosened his cloak around his neck and let it fall behind him. He thought of going upshore to get some water, but he didn't want to risk missing the fisherman. He was stuck here.
Bored, Ragnar put his fingers into the envelope and waved them around inside. As he did, however…he felt something that wasn't just the instructions. At this, Ragnar looked down to the envelope and opened it wide. Sitting right in there, tucked behind the flap, was gil. The youth blinked, but then reached in and grabbed it, and pulled it out. He looked at the money and counted it. There were five crisp new 100 gil bills.
Ragnar looked in puzzlement at these. So, Bahamut had left him some money. But what for? He didn't know. It probably had to do with one of the later instructions. He slipped the money back into the envelope, and put it away in his pocket with the paper. After that, he sat and waited.
Some time passed. Between the gentle rocking of the ocean and the warm heat, Ragnar nearly fell asleep. He leaned back on top of his cloak and closed his eyes, feeling the sun beating down. He didn't quite nod off, however. He stayed awake for a short period of time, still waiting. But just as he was about to nod off…he heard a disturbance on the water. It wasn't a wave either. It was something else…something continuous. Hearing it, the youth opened his eyes again. He immediately leaned back up and sat erect on the old pier, and looked out to the ocean.
Sure enough, a boat was coming. Judging by the sun, it had to be about noon. A hundred feet from the shore, an old motorized fishing boat was going along the sea. It was old and battered. The paint was cracked and chipping away. It was rusted in most spots. The motor was practically chugging, and putting out a lot of smoke. Though Ragnar had never seen a boat before, it was easy to infer that this one was rather old. A single grizzled old man was working it, puttering it ahead slowly. He had a crotchety look to him, Weather-beaten and no nonsense. His face was dry and red from the sun, and he looked almost wrinkled like a raisin rather than old. His own clothing was dirty and shabby, not to mention loose. He didn't appear to be very friendly…but Ragnar was sure this was it.
The young man immediately stood. He waved out to the boat and called. "Hey there!"
The old man looked up from his fishing, and stared out at Ragnar. "Ahoy!" He sounded in a rather unfriendly voice, his face looking still crass and unapproving. "What are you doing out there? What do you want?"
"Are you going to the Eastern Continent?" Ragnar called out.
"So what if I am?"
"I was wondering if you could give me a lift!"
"Do I look like a ferry to you?" The old man yelled back in a grumpy voice. "Get lost!"
The youth recoiled a bit. He wasn't expecting that. Kind of in the mode of destiny, he was sort of expecting the person to just let him right on. To get denied was a bit of a surprise. Maybe this was the wrong boat… However, it was close to noon, and Ragnar didn't see another boat for miles. He had a feeling this was the one…but how was he going to get on it now?
Suddenly, Ragnar remembered the money…
Immediately, the youth cried out again. "I'll pay you a hundred gil!"
"I said beat it!" The old man yelled back.
"How about three hundred?"
"Stop bothering me!"
Ragnar sighed once to himself, and hoped he wouldn't need this for anything else. "Five hundred!"
The old man hesitated at this. His face was still sour, but he seemed to think this over for a moment. In the end, he grunted and made some sort of scowling face. He reached over to the throttle and powered down. The old fishing boat finally came to a stop as the engine spluttered and died. He turned back to Ragnar and shook his head.
"You stubborn kid…" He grumbled. "Fine! If you help me with the fishing for the rest of the day and give me the money…I'll give you a ride! Now get out here!"
Ragnar sighed in relief. Thank goodness. Quickly, he reached down and took up his cloak again, and began to fasten it around his neck. It would make swimming a little hard, but that was ok. So long as it wasn't upstream, it would be a breeze. The old man shook his head again at him as he saw this.
"The only reason I'm letting you is because I know I'm not going to get to fish much longer, and I need to get as much as I can!" He yelled back at him. "What with that storm coming in!"
The young man paused at this. Storm? In response, he turned his head out to the sky. On his right, far in the distance, he noticed something. To his surprise, he hadn't noticed it earlier, and he had been looking out only a few minutes ago. Yet there it was now. Far on the western horizon, a row of clouds had formed. They now filled the sky in that direction.
Ragnar stared at this a moment longer, but then turned back to the boat. He waved it off for now, and jumped into the water and began to swim.
This had better be worth it…
The old man had been a worse taskmaster than some of the people he had worked under in the mines. He yelled at him constantly, always getting mad at him when he stepped in the wrong place, got too close, or did something else that made him uncomfortable. He made him handle all the nets, throwing them out and hauling them back in. It was hard work to handle all by himself, but the old man didn't have machinery for doing it in any other way. It was a good thing that Ragnar had trained so much. Still, considering the strain his body had been through over the past few days, it still tired him out. He was even hungrier than before after the three hours the old man had him fish. However, he found no sympathy with him. He had half a sandwich left from lunch, but when he asked for it the old man merely gave him some tirade about freeloading off of his charity. Ragnar didn't bother to explain to the man that he wasn't receiving charity at all but was giving him three hours labor plus 500 gil. At any rate, Ragnar was glad when he finally got going.
The boat ride was the most boring part. It took hours to go across the sea, even though the boat at full throttle went much faster. Ragnar was a bit mystified at first. After going a little bit out to sea, the Northern Continent vanished too. They were surrounded by water everywhere for miles. There were a few gulls flying about, but soon they went away, and they were all alone in the midst of the ocean. Ragnar was amazed at all the water…but as the hours went on he began to get rather bored with it. It and the engine noise only made him more sleepy and tired. He tried to sit down on the boat, but the old man snapped at him for that. One would think that if he sat down anywhere or touched anything he would break it, even though he had been hauling in fish with the same equipment. He was forced to stand. At least in doing so, he couldn't smell the fish as bad.
As the sun went down, the clouds finally came overhead. The old man had been right. They rolled in much more quickly than Ragnar thought possible, and when they came they brought wind with them. The ocean began to wave and ripple a little, making the voyage a bit more bumpy and uneven. It made the young man a bit nervous. Ragnar saw the sky grow darker and grayer as the clouds continued to close in. It was rather bleak out by the time they filled the whole sky, and it made the sea a bit colder, even for Ragnar. Then, it began to rain. It was only a light rain at first, but it didn't take long to get Ragnar all wet. He once again foolishly believed the old man would be kind enough to let him under the small overhang that covered the controls. He yelled at him, saying he'd distract his driving…though all he had been doing for hours was holding the wheel steady. The young man was forced to stay out in the rain.
The sun was setting when Ragnar finally reached shore. It was almost completely black out. However, there was one overhead light near the shore. As they got closer, Ragnar could just see through the rain to see that it illuminated a shabby-looking pier with a house about as old and weather beaten as the boat he was riding on. The boat slowly pulled up to this, and Ragnar immediately leapt off the second he was in range. Any slower, and he might have jumped in and swam. The old man muttered that he was going to leave without even saying thank you. Ragnar managed to turn and give him a thank you at that, only to have the old man yell at him to get lost already. As Ragnar turned and complied with that, he heard the old man yelling behind him that he was ungrateful, not even stopping to help him put the ship up.
Needless to say, Ragnar never wanted to see that old man again.
The road leading from the old man's house was dirt. He walked down it until he reached one made of real concrete and blacktop. There was one single solitary street light out here. Ragnar opened up his directions again and looked at them at this point.
From where you land, go to the road, turn right, and walk to the city.
Ragnar put the directions away again and looked down the road. He saw lights far in the distance, just faintly through the rain. However, they spread quite a ways, and Ragnar supposed that this had to be the city. It was weird though. He had never seen a city that large before, assuming all the lights being cast off were from it. Nevertheless, he began down the road.
Now, however, the real thunderstorm began. Lightning and thunder began to crash, and a fat downpour soon doused the youth. Soon, he was sloshing along in his totally soaked clothing toward the city in the distance. It actually vanished for a short while, concealed by the rain, until Ragnar managed to get a few miles closer to it. By now, the young man was totally miserable. Hungry…tired…stinking of fish…clothed in soggy rags…and walking along an empty road all the way to a city that had to still be a good twelve miles away.
Ragnar was soaked off and on for hours as the thunderstorm fluctuated. Gradually, as he drew nearer, street lights began to come on again. At that point, he had to move to one side of the road, for cars actually did start coming by. Most of them gave him a nice wave of muddy water in the face. Yet still, he pressed forward. He kept his eyes turned up often, and tried to focus on the city as it got near. It was good, for soon he had something new to fascinate him.
He had been right…the city was huge. It was the biggest city he had ever seen. Getting closer only made it fill his vision, rather like the ocean had. As he looked up and into the sky through the flashes of lightning, he saw building and skyscrapers the likes of which he had only read about tower into the heavens. However…they looked a bit odd. Some of them appeared to be only ruins…or broken in some way. And they were all dark. The real sources of light came from below. What they were was still hidden, behind a large wall that loomed over a hundred feet high ahead of him. The road seemed to come out from it, out of a large open gate. It was to this place that Ragnar continued. It was a bit intimidating. Most of the ruin was dark, and looked rather forboding and uninviting. But cars were coming to and from it, and so he continued to push his way onward. He still felt some nervousness as he passed through the huge metal gate and into the city.
Ragnar soon found out he was right. Most of the inside was a ruin. Nothing but wrecks of buildings, twisted metal, and one destroyed machine after another as he walked forward for miles. The city looked dead, almost like an uninhabited ghost city. What more, it was a bit terrorizing. It was full of darkness and shadows all around him, and Ragnar knew he saw some things moving around in the darkness more than once. Most of them were much bigger than rats. The youth tried to stay close to the road as much as possible without being hit by the cars…or doused with more mud. The rain was still falling, after all.
At last, the youth entered civilization. As he continued forward, he gradually began to see more street lights again. This was before he came upon a concrete tunnel the cars were passing through. He entered this and slowly made his way through it. It was well illuminated by yellow lights inside, and it was kept clean too. This place wasn't a wreck like everything else. The downside was that it was thinner than the road outside, and Ragnar had to press himself against the wall to get through it. At least he was out of the rain. When he finally passed through and continued to walk, he found he had entered the part of the city with life.
This amazed the young man. He had never seen so many homes or buildings in his life. There wasn't just one main street here. There were dozens of them…hundreds…going in every direction. Stores…houses…buildings…there were tons of works of architecture all over the place. And there were people too. Not so many as there would be during the day, but many none the less compared to what Ragnar was used to. Mostly, there were more cars, everywhere now. Until that evening, Ragnar had only interacted with cars for a short time in his life, whenever one happened to come through Icicle Inn. However, he was a bit displeased with these ones. The cars he had seen before smelled fine. All of these put out some sort of dirty-smelling odor. Still, Ragnar wished he was in one now instead of the rain. Everywhere was concrete and steel. The city was big and bustling, even at this time of night. And above it all, Ragnar saw with some puzzlement, ruins of an even bigger and more advanced city rested. From the looks of them…they hadn't been destroyed too long ago. He was curious as to how exactly it happened. Was this the place where Meteor hit? He didn't know, just like he knew nothing of what had gone on in the world since Meteor was destroyed.
Ragnar could see his way through the area now. And many of the stores that lined the streets on the sides gave him room to dip under and get out of the rain, as well as neon lights to illuminate himself with. After working his way about another mile into the city, he ducked to the side again. He reached into his soaking wet clothing and pulled out the envelope. It was soaking wet too, but luckily the ink hadn't bled. He opened it up again, pulled out the paper, and then read it.
Go to Sector Seven, called Edge. Be at the corner of Rufus and Third at 1 AM precisely
The young man looked up and out to the streets around him. One of the buildings on a corner had a large clock. It currently read 10:30 PM. It seemed he had some time, but he had no idea whereEdge was, or even where he was. He had better start looking. He shoved the directions back into his pocket, and continued down the street for now.
For a few minutes, Ragnar continued to work his way down the street, trying to look around and get some bearing of where he had to go. But then,he spotted something up ahead as he walked down the sidewalk. An information kioskwas on a block corner, placed under an illuminated sign. On seeing it, Ragnar quickly ran ahead through the rain and ducked under the lip of it. He saw a railway map for the transit system here, as well as the overlying roads. He couldn't afford the railway, unfortunately, but he was able to find Rufus Street and Third Street. In addition, it appeared that the city he was in was circular, and divided into eight equal pieces that all had their own numerical designation. To his relief, Sector Seven: Edgewasn't far from here. He was in Sector Eight already. And the directions were fairly straightforward. After finding his way, he looked overhead to try and see where he was.
Midgar.
Ragnar hesitated on hearing that. He remembered that name. The New Shinra almost always spoke about it as being their base when they first arrived. However, they never had gone back there. They built a new one up north. Considering the destruction that surrounded him, Ragnar began to wonder if the reason was because it was destroyed when Meteor came. But if so…he wondered if there was still a presence here. It made him nervous, but he continued onward.
It took about thirty minutes to weave his way through the streets to the location. It kept raining the whole time. Stepping into puddles was disgusting here. Everywhere was slimy and filthy. The city was pretty dirty to him, especially compared to Icicle Inn. Little did the youth suspect that if he had been here three years earlier, it would have been much worse. Yet he kept going, making his way through the streets and turns and going toward his destination. As he went on…he grew a bit more uneasy. Many of the people who passed by him started to look rougher, and smelled of something that appeared to be alcohol or who knew what else. Many ran into him as they went along, seemingly on purpose sometimes, but always without an apology. Others went around in groups laughing to each other about something. Ragnar grew uneasy when any of them stared at him. He had a feeling that this late at night was not a good time to be out.
The young man was glad that things got a bit wider and more illuminated when he made it toEdge. He passed through some square as he made his way along toward his destination. As he did, he paused long enough to note a strange looking sculpture in the center of the square, up on a podium. It looked like a metal piece of art that appeared to be a burning sphere. There was some sort of plaque on it, but Ragnar didn't want to waste time reading it. He kept going.
At long last, at 11 PM, Ragnar was there. Tired and wet, he sloshed a few more steps forward, until he found himself under a street lamp. On two green signs criss-crossing it, he saw the two simple phrases. Rufus St. and 3rd St. Sighing in relief, he walked to the sign and leaned against the post. He turned around and rested there a moment, slowly sighing, and looking around him.
After a few minutes, Ragnar began to get bored of this. The rain was still falling, and he was feeling rather waterlogged. It was dark out, and as cool as the rain was it made him feel a little cold, even considering where he was from. Walking through cold rain for hours eventually worked its way on you. He was still starving…still tired…and he hadn't sat down in hours. Of course, outside, the only place to sit was right in a puddle of filth-filled water. That didn't appeal to him much either. But he wanted to get dry at least. He still had two hours…
Ragnar looked around himself a bit.There was a small building just behind him. It looked fairly new and clean, and from the sounds of it and the lights, it appeared to be some sort of bar or restaurant. He heard some sort of music coming from within. Seeing that, Ragnar thought it was good enough. At least he could order water…even though at this point he never wanted to see a glass of water again. Slowly, he turned and began to walk to the entrance. Moments later, he was under the front awning, and putting his hand on the swinging door. It easily gave, and the soaked youth walked in.
It felt great to get out of the rain again. Ragnar sputtered a bit to get the water out of his mouth that rolled down his face, and then with a tired exhale looked around. The inside was rather nice. Simple wood paneling design with white walls overhead. Lots of pictures hanging around the area, mostly of landscapes or people doing things at old bars or at old games. A few newspaper clippings were up, that Ragnar ignored. It was indeed a bar. A rather large bar area was just ahead, looking rather well stocked and clean. It had an older look to it, but that only made it more inviting and less "dive-like". The place wasn't jam packed at this point, but it did have a good crowd. He heard a rather loud bit of music coming from an amplifier on entering, and turning slightly to the left he saw that there was a local band playing. They were country from the sound of it. A few of the patrons turned and looked at Ragnar when he came in, though most were too absorbed in their drinks. Those that did stared a bit at him. Ragnar was muddy, torn, and looking rather pale and wobbly by now. Hunger was taking its toll and making him wave a little on his own two feet. However, he looked away from all this, and to the front.
Slowly, Ragnar began to make his way toward the bar area. This one only had one or two drunks on the end, a female bartender,and right in front of him the area was clear. Each step made his shoes squish out another amount of water on the floor, and he left a long drip trail as he came. It didn't take long for the bar hostess to stop smiling and waving at one of the patrons and look at him in the same stunned silence. She seemed to forget about the glass that she was polishing and instead stared at him as he slowly half-dragged his body to the bar. Once he was there, he squished as he slowly pulled himself up on top of a stool, and then leaned over and folded his hands in front of him.
"Could I have a glass of water, please?"
The bar hostess blinked once at him, her mouth slightly open but her face expressionless. Her brown eyes slowly looked down and looked him over once. After that, she very calmly shut her mouth and formed a plaintative expression. She turned slightly to set the glass and towel down, and then brushed back a bit of her long brown hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. After that, she mimicked the young man somewhat in leaning over and folding her hands in front of her. She focused her brown eyes into his.
"Kid…" She began slowly. "Three things. One…I don't allow weapons in my bar."
Ragnar hesitated, and then looked back to the handle of Ragnarok. He had forgotten about that…but there was no way he was going to leave it outside while he went in. He turned back to the woman after that, and continued to look innocent.
"Two…how old are you?"
"I'm not a kid." Ragnar insisted. "I'm twenty."
"The minimum age to enter my bar is twenty-one."
Ragnar blinked a moment as he looked at her. "…You don't look much older than me."
"Why thank you. But I'm twenty-three, and the hostess, so I make the rules. Third…you've just tracked in about a gallon of water across my floor, and sat down on one of my leather seats to shed another gallon. And if someone slips and falls, I'm probably in for another insurance rate hike."
Ragnar slowly looked down and looked to his body. He was still dripping, from being thoroughly soaked. He looked back up to the woman, and let out a long sigh. With a somewhat dismal look, he frowned and began to twist to get back off of the stool. "…Sorry I caused you so much trouble." He half-heartedly retorted as he leaned off of it and stood on the ground again. "I'll just go find a nice, warm puddle outside." He added as he turned and began to walk for the door.
"When's the last time you've had anything to eat?"
Ragnar froze on hearing that. He hesitated a moment, and then turned back to the bar. The hostess was still there, hands folded in front of her and staring at him.
The youth paused for a moment. "…About two days ago."
"How would you like some chicken wings?" She asked.
The young man paused again, but then shook his head. "I don't want charity."
"It's not charity. You didn't let me finish." The woman answered with a small smile. "I'll make you some if you get out the mop and a rag and clean up the mess you just tracked in. Deal?"
Ragnar once again stood still. His stomach growled again. However, he looked to the woman, and saw her still smiling at him. She seemed pretty friendly, despite how she had reacted when he first came in. In the end, he gave her a nod. "Ok, deal."
The woman smiled a bit wider. "Come on back here. I'll show you where it is."
An hour later, and Ragnar was gnawing the last bit of meat off of his twentieth chicken wing. It had been six months since he had meat to eat, and he loved it. Anything besides beetles, grubs, and berries. The band had stopped by now and left, and the customers had cleared out. Apparently, closing time was midnight. The last drunk had just stumbled out the door. Sitting next to him was a bucket with a mop coming out of it, balanced against the bar. A wet rag was also in it. At the moment, Ragnar and the woman working the bar were the only people here.
The hostess finished filling up Ragnar's second glass of water, and passed it back to him. He gratefully took it and washed down the last bit of meat with it. After that, she resumed wiping it off, but kept her eyes on him.
"You don't look like one of the normal orphan kids." She commented.
Ragnar groaned and frowned again. "Seriously…I'm not a kid. I just look that way. I really am twenty."
The woman put her hands of defensively. "Alright, whatever." She answered. "You just really do look young. You sure eat like a person without a home, though. And you dress like one too."
"I live up north." Ragnar answered as he put down his glass.
The woman shrugged. "You're the first person on a vacation I've seen who dresses in rags, carries a sword, and is totally broke regardless. I don't suppose you have a license to carry that, do you?"
Ragnar hesitated, and then shrugged. "I didn't know I needed one. I didn't steal it, if that's what you're insinuating."
Again, the woman looked defensive and apologetic. "Sorry. Forget I said anything. You're just a little unusual from the standard fair, ki…" The woman cut herself off at this, and rolled her eyes a bit at her own screw up. She looked back to him after that. "What do I call you anyway?"
Ragnar looked up for a moment at that. He looked over the woman, and winced a bit. He felt a bit uneasy and anxious. He had been in a mode of being rather suspicious of people he didn't know for quite some time, after all. After a pause, he said something else.
"I don't suppose Shinra still has its Headquarters out of Midgar, does it?"
To this, the woman smiled and gave a chuckle. She bowed her head a bit and went back to her work, and shook it. "You must be from way up north…" She half-murmured. "Shinra has been out of business for three years. It disbanded after Meteor came. If that's what you came to town for, it doesn't exist anymore."
In response to this, Ragnar gave his own small chuckle, but he didn't smile.
The woman turned back to him in puzzlement at that. "Something funny?"
"Tell that to the people who gave me this, then…" Ragnar muttered under his breath as he placed his hand down on the counter, clearly showing where he had been branded with his serial number and his five marks.
The woman didn't hear him, but she did react in surprise, dropping her towel. "Oh my god…" She said aloud, cupping one hand to her mouth and reaching out the other to touch Ragnar's hand. She felt the bumps from the scars. "What happened to you?"
"It's nothing." Ragnar found himself saying in the end, though he did feel like saying Shinra to the woman's face. At any rate, he didn't want to spend too much time with her. It was great that she fed him and all, but he didn't need to be distracted by this woman. It was kind of a pity. She was a nice person, and he had a feeling that if he wasn't on his errand he would have liked to talk with her more. But as it was, he had to get on with his normal business. He pulled his hand out of the woman's touch, and then began to push off of the table, turning back to her. "Listen…thanks a lot for the food, but I'm going to have to be somewhere in less than an hour."
The woman blinked curiously. "…Outside?"
The youth gave a nod as he stood. "Yeah."
She frowned at him in response. "It's really not safe to be outside this late at night. Especially on a weekend. You're not going to any dark alleys or anything, are you?"
"No." Ragnar answered. He didn't dare tell her he'd be loitering outside of her bar. That'd probably only make her suspicious of him and what he was up to. She might even think he was profiling her for a robbery.
"It's still raining out there."
"I'll live."
"You could help me clean up until then. You'd spend less time in the rain."
"Thanks, but no thanks."
The woman crossed her arms and sighed at him. She stared at him silently for a moment, and finally shrugged. "Alright, suit yourself."
Ragnar gave a nod to this. "Thanks again for the food. Have a nice night." With that, he turned and walked back toward the door. Within a few moments, he opened it, passed through, and was back out into the stormy night.
The hostess continued to stare out after him once he was gone. Her look was still very disapproving. But in the end, she sighed and continued cleaning the bar.
Ragnar was still rather tired. It was a good thing the chicken wings had been hot. They helped give him enough kick to stay awake. To be honest…they were really good. He never had any that good before. He had been tempted to stay and clean if it meant another plate of them. However, he shrugged it off in the end. He had better things to do than hang around all night inside the… Where had he been again?
The youth paused for a moment to look to the sign he was now leaning against, telling the name of the bar.
7th Heaven.
He yawned. He hoped that whatever was coming, it wouldn't take long. He needed to try and find some place dry in this city to sleep. He had just been getting used to being dry inside the bar when he had to go back out into the rain. Now, he was sopping wet again, and looking around waiting for something to come up. So far, there was nothing. No signs of any people or events heading his way. He kept his arms crossed, sighed, spat out a bit of rain that ran into his mouth, and turned back to wait.
Suddenly, the sign and the lights went out to the 7th Heaven. Ragnar found himself plunged into considerable darkness. Sighing, he got up from where he was leaning, and began to walk back out to the corner and the street lamp. As he did, he looked across the street. Another clock was on the wall over there, and it displayed the current time. 12:57. With a shrug, Ragnar supposed he had better head over anyway. He turned and continued to walk toward the post, and at the end stopped and leaned against it. Not long now.
A fizzling sound was heard overhead shortly after leaning there. Moments later, the light overhead went out as well. Ragnar frowned. This day just kept getting better and better. Now, he was plunged into darkness again, and the nearest working street lamp was about three hundred feet away. Ragnar sputtered again. He really began to hope that this was worth it. He continued to look around and wait, but in the end this grew boring. Instead, he turned back to the clock. 12:58.
Ragnar focused on this and watched it, seeing the second hand tick by. He decided just towait until the time came. He wasn't going anywhere now. It seemed to take forever for the second hand to go all the way around the clock this time. It looked like it was moving slower as he waited there. Ragnar sputtered out more water and continued to wait as the second hand passed 12, turning the time to 12:59. After that, he began to grow a bit anxious. This was it…the real start to his journey. Something was going to happen in one minute, and when it did it was going to set him out on his mission to become a leader and save the world. This was enough to make him quiver a little with anticipation. Slowly, he watched the seconds continue to pass. He clutched his hands into fists and slowly exhaled again, as the second hand passed 6…9…and then made its way to 12.
Ragnar licked his lips once and turned all his attention to the clock. The second hand went by a precious few more steps…and at long last hit the 12. The minute hand clicked up once, and the time was exactly 1 AM.
The young man had just looked away to see what would happen…when something hard and cold smacked him in the back of the head. Crying out in pain, the youth sprawled forward and landed face down against the sidewalk. He landed rather roughly, and winced as he did so. He was dazed from the blow, and pain numbed his senses and reflexes. Added to the fact that he was still very tired, and he only slowly got up. Before he could push himself off the ground, however…a powerful kick nailed him in the side. Ragnar coughed out and cried in pain again, before another kick hit him in the other side. He winced, before someone added a kick to the face with that. After this, he felt someone jump on him, making him turn his head up and cry outin agony. In response, someone kicked him in the back of the head, shoving his face back down into the street, and then stood on his neck to keep him down.
"Hey junior." He heard a menacing voice sound overhead. "Isn't it a little late for you to be walking home?"
A crowd of snickers joined with this. It sounded like there were five of them. Ragnar couldn't see, not even their shadows. His face was being grinded against the pavement. He grit his teeth, and struggled to push up. Considering his strength, he actually managed to throw one of the people off of his arms, and put it beneath him. He began to push up, and threw another off of his back as he suddenly shot up from the ground.
That was before another cold blow hit him in the back of the head. On the second hit, it felt like a pipe. Crying out again, Ragnar went to the ground once more. This time, whoever had it hit him additional times in the back, each one making him writhe and cry out. The people came back, this time standing on his arms and back as they did so. Whoever had the pipe continued to hit him until Ragnar was too dazzled to fight back, and went limp against the ground. He heaved against it. He was too tired and sore now. If he had been rested up, he could have gotten out of this, but it was too much even for him now.
"So you've got a little fight still in you?" The first one spoke. "Well, if you don't have anything on you, kid…I'll be glad to beat that out of you too."
Ragnar soon felt hands going through his pockets. Moments later, he felt the envelope being yanked out. He groaned and tried to say something, but only got hit again in the head as a result. A moment later, he heard a snicker from overhead.
"Man…did you ever get set up." One of the attackers chuckled.
"All this guy has is this sword." Another said. Ragnar's eyes widened in shock on hearing this. He struggled again under them once he heard that, desperate to get free. He began to lift up under their hands. He couldn't let them have that, no matter what. Again, he was struck by the pipe. It took a few more strikes than before to get him down, but eventually he was too tired to keep fighting, and sprawled shortly after. He felt his sheath rise slightly off of his back.
"Check this out! It's got diamonds in it! It looks like gold!"
"Hey, not bad, kid. Maybe we'll let you live after all."
Another chorus of light laughing. Ragnar grit his teeth. He was dizzy now. He felt warm blood coming from the back of his head. After being so exhausted, he felt sick to his stomach and wanted to puke. But he couldn't do anything about it. He could only fume and curse under his breath at what had happened to him.
Then…he heard a "shik" of metal on metal.
Immediately, the laughter ceased. Ragnar was still pinned down, but suddenly all he heard was the rain. Everyone else was silent. But then, he heard a voice from further behind him. It came from a young man too…but it was so cold and hard that it made a ripple travel through Ragnar's spine.
"…Leave him alone."
Slowly, he felt people begin to get off of him. Relief came back to his previously pinned body, and his face was taken off from being grinded against the ground. He put his hands beneath him and caught his breath, struggling to push up and get back to his feet. But he only pushed himself a little off the ground before he got dizzy, and fell back to the pavement again.
"Hey man…" The first spoke again, having lost much of the fire he had before. "We just found him like this…we were just trying to help…"
Ragnar managed to turn his head to the side. He saw dirty sneakers standing in front of him, three pairs of them. However, he abruptly heard a sharp "ching" of metal. Moments after doing so, he saw the end of a bloody pipe fall down to the ground right next to his face. Shortly after doing that, the sneakers quivered. Then, in a flash, they turned and ran away as fast as they could. Ragnar heard sounds on his side running away too. They echoed on, going far from Ragnar, for a few moments, but then were swallowed up by the rain.
Ragnar breathedslowly...and began to hear footsteps come up to him. Another "shik" of metal occurred as they came close. After a few moments more, he saw a pair of black boots walk in front of his vision, and then calmly turn to be pointed at him. Ragnar blinked once, still feeling dizzy, and now beginning to feel sharp pain in the back of his head, before he looked up as best he could. Unfortunately, he could only look up to see a pair of black pants, black gloved hands, and what looked like half of a coat before rolling anymore would put him on the back of his head.
"Are you alright, kid?"
Ragnar blinked, but then managed a groan. "…I'm not a kid…"
"You look terrible. Did they do this to you?"
In all honesty, the youth couldn't answer. Not only was he feeling dizzy and sick now, but he wasn't sure what the man was talking about. He didn't know how badly he was injured, or if he was looking at his scars, old injuries, and rags for clothing. And so, he merely continued to look up at him.
Moments later, he felt a hard grasp take one of his arms, and another put around his waist. With a mighty tug, he felt his body taken up off the ground and yanked to his feet. Just as Bahamut had done months ago, he now found this man doing the same to him. Ragnar could move his feet now, however. He was just too dizzy to stand up. Rising in and of itself nearly made him vomit, and he looked it. The world swirled in front of him into a chaotic blur. However, he got his bearings back soon after, and things turned back to normal. He was standing now, and the man was walking him down the street.
"…I guess you better come inside."
Ragnar didn't answer. He let the man drag him a little ways. But then, much to his surprise, he turned him in the direction of the 7th Heaven, and began to take him up the pathway. He realized he was taking him back in the bar he left an hour ago. On seeing this, Ragnar, bewildered, turned and looked to the face of his savior.
A dark, yet smooth and youthful, expression greeted him. The man's face was in a rather cold frown. His hair was blond and very spiked, hanging in different directions, with one main spike coming out slightly to the right. Lastly…his eyes. Those eyes…they burned with a light that Ragnar had never seen before. They weren't like Bahamut's in terms of age and power…but they had an unnatural shine to them that looked unnatural.
"What's your name?" The man asked, without turning his head to the youth.
Unlike before, Ragnar felt ill at ease with this person, and something affected him that kept him from holding back this time. Before he knew what he was doing, it slipped out. "…Ragnar."
"I'm Cloud." The man replied, and said no more as he took Ragnar under the awning, opened the door, and then dragged him inside.
To be continued...
