Chapter Five

After he and his party opened the sluice at Fort Besselat, creating the flood that stopped two great armies from clashing, even Ramza felt rather impressed with what they had just accomplished. He found himself recalling Delita's words to him, not long ago, when they met in Zeltennia: "A heretic at prayer in a church. Passing bold, Ramza."

You have no idea, Delita, Ramza thought to himself. You have no idea how bold I will be. While you hide behind the High Confessor's skirts, playing your little games of power, I will do what I can to stop this bloodshed. I will be as bold as I must. Someone has to.

Ramza had grudgingly accepted Delita's statements that he would oversee the assassinations of his brothers, Dycedarg and Zalbag. He knew that no argument from him would change Delita's mind, at this point.

If Ramza could do anything to help his brothers survive, then he would… but saving Alma took priority. Dycedarg and Zalbag were trained and highly-skilled knights, they could watch their own backs. Even if Ramza ran to them now, and told them that assassination attempts were coming, it would not exactly be news to his brothers. They were always wary of assassination attempts. They were important men in Ivalice.

Alma, however, could not 'watch her own back'. Ramza had explained to Delita that he had taken the chance of praying publicly in Zeltennia church, because he needed the gods' favor now, more than he ever had. How long had it been since Alma had been taken by the Templar Knights? He prayed fervently that she was safe, alive, unmolested. That he would find her, and rescue her.

Ramza knew that the life of one girl was a small thing, compared to the fate of everyone in the entire country. That was why he was willing to fight these battles at Fort Besselat, which brought him no closer to Alma.

But he also knew that Delita would understand, more than probably anyone else, Ramza's desperation to find Alma before it was too late.

Delita's face had paled when Ramza told him of his sister's abduction. Ramza believed Delita when he swore he knew nothing of it, and had heard nothing. Delita promised he would listen for any gossip relating to Alma's whereabouts.

Still, the fact that Delita knew nothing was disheartening. Delita made a point of knowing everyone's business these days. If he had had no word about Alma, then… well, that fact did not help bolster Ramza's hope that she still lived.

And, damn, if it had not stung when Delita casually told him: "I would not think twice of killing you, Ramza, should the hour come."

Delita was not the same person Ramza had known at Igros, that was certain. Still, Ramza missed him. Delita felt like more of a brother to him than either Zalbag or Dycedarg ever had. He had been serious when he asked Delita to join him, to fight together again. But, of course, Delita had claimed that he could not leave Princess Ovelia's side.

Ramza shook himself out of his reverie, as his team prepared to move. Now, they needed to free Lord Orlandu from the prison. Cidolfus "Thunder God Cid" Orlandu had been Ramza's father's best friend, and his greatest rival for skill on the battlefield. Ramza was excited to meet him.

And once they made their way out of here, Ramza supposed it would be time to head to Limberry Castle. If he had to walk headlong into Marquis Elmdor's trap in order to find his sister, then so be it.

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From the closest tree line outside of Limberry Castle, Meliadoul had been spying on Ramza Beoulve and his crew. This time, however, she was not planning any foolish attacks on him.

Meliadoul was, quite frankly, confused as hell. And she was beginning to believe that Ramza might have some answers for her questions.

Gods. She felt insane for even having the thought. Seeking wisdom from a heretic. But there was nowhere left to turn. Something strange was going on with her father and the other men who led the Templar Knights. Something disturbing.

After Meliadoul's failed attack on Ramza's team, she had decided to go back to her father's castle to speak with him. She was concerned.

The letter she had received, which had informed her of Izlude's death, had not even been written in her father's hand. It had been penned by one of his assistants. The letter had blandly informed her that Izlude and Wiegraf were dead, and then in the very next paragraph it had listed her next assignment for the High Confessor! She found that exceedingly strange.

The father she knew, the great Lord Vormav Tingel, would have never let a stranger write the news of her brother's death to her. He would have written it himself, with his condolences and word of his own sorrow over their loss. Or he would have summoned her home to hear the news directly from him.

But she had had not a single letter from her father, since Izlude's death.

Furthermore, the father she knew would have thrown a lavish funeral to honor the loss of his only son in battle. Instead, Izlude had been buried along with all the other corpses in Riovanes, as if he were no more important to Vormav than every other servant and squire in that place.

This led Meliadoul to believe that something was very wrong. Had her father lost his wits when he found out that he had lost his son? Had sorrow destroyed his ability to function normally? She needed to see him in person, to check that he was all right. She knew it was insubordination to continue to ignore her orders from the High Confessor for another few days, but she did it anyway.

When Meliadoul arrived home, she found her father in his library. She walked in, unannounced. Vormav's eyes lifted to meet hers, and she felt as if her blood had gone cold.

Something in his eyes… was not right.

She shook off her sudden chill. "Father!" she greeted him. She walked closer, to hug him.

"Meliadoul. Why are you here?" Vormav asked flatly.

She stopped short, still a few feet away from him. He had just called her 'Meliadoul.' He never did that. She had always been 'Meli' to him, for as long as she could remember. She did not think he had ever called her by her full name even once before now.

"I—I came because of Izlude, of course. I needed to see that you were well! I have not had a word from you since we lost him…" She felt tears gathering in her eyes.

"I had a clerk write to you," he insisted, coldly. "You should be in Limberry now, as instructed."

Meliadoul struggled for words. "A clerk! You had a clerk write to me that my brother was dead! That your son was dead! Father, what is wrong? I am worried for you! Have you grieved him at all?"

Vormav stood. The move looked unnaturally graceful. He closed the distance between them and placed a hand on her shoulder, as if he thought that would comfort her. "Your concern for my well-being is noted, Meliadoul. I am healthy, do not fear."

"I—you—"

"You ought to be in Limberry by now, but perhaps it is fortunate that you made this detour," Vormav continued. "I have been meaning to find a chance to pass this relic to you."

He reached into a pocket in his outer robe, withdrew a glossy green stone, and handed it to her. She immediately recognized it as one of the twelve zodiac stones, the holy relics of the Church.

"This is the zodiac stone, Sagittarius," Vormav explained. "It is extremely valuable. With the High Confessor's approval, I entrust you with the safety of this, Meliadoul. Keep it on your person at all times, never in a storage chest. Even when you sleep. Guard it with your life. One day, I may ask you for its return."

Meliadoul pocketed the stone, and then she looked up at her father's face, ready to ask quite a lot of questions.

But what she saw was not her father.

Within his brown eyes, there was a gleam. Something red and dreadful. As she stared at it, she saw flames, heard a thousand souls screaming in a place where hope did not exist. In a hell that they themselves had created.

Meliadoul gagged. She took a quick step away. Vormav did not seem to mind. "Is that all? Then be on your way to Limberry, Meliadoul."

"Yes, father." She was trembling, walking backward toward the door. She could not get out of the room fast enough.

In the doorway, she encountered Sir Rofel, her old instructor. She tried to catch her breath to greet him, but as she met his eyes, she could swear she saw the same red flicker. The polite smile he gave her looked… wrong. As if there were too many teeth in his mouth, or something.

As soon as she turned the corner, away from Rofel's sight, Meliadoul broke into a sprint. She did not slow down until she had left the castle entirely, though she knocked over a passing squire in her haste. The rest of her team was having a picnic lunch in the practice yard, where she had left them. It was fine weather today.

She was weeping, as she had not even wept for Izlude. "Get up!" she shrieked at her friends. "We need to leave! Get up! Get up! GET UP!"

She was sweeping the food into a rough pile, trying to wrap their picnic blanket around it all, quickly, while her friends scrambled backward.

Emeria grabbed her by the shoulders. "Meli, what in hell!?" Seeing the tears streaming down Meliadoul's face, she wrapped her arms around her shaking friend. "What happened?" she demanded.

Meliadoul did not know what to say. Out here, with the blue sky above and the birds chirping, she was already starting to disbelieve what she had seen and heard inside the castle. She did not know how to explain it to Emeria, or to anyone else. She fought to compose herself, as her panic slowly receded.

"I—I am sorry," Meliadoul said. "I suppose… just… talking about Izlude, with my father… was upsetting. I did not mean to have such an outburst. Though, we do need to leave, right away. My father wishes for us to begin our next assignment in Limberry immediately."

Meliadoul did plan to go to Limberry. But not to complete her assignment. She had been listening closely to the gossip about Ramza Beoulve ever since their short-lived fight. She had heard about him literally stopping the movements of two armies, by opening the floodgates at Fort Besselat. Now the rumor was that he was on his way to Limberry Castle.

Meliadoul recalled Ramza's talk of Lucavi demons. At the time, she had dismissed it as the ravings of a madman, or else as the jesting of an asshole who thought she was extremely gullible.

Having seen Vormav's eyes, she no longer felt so certain.

And now, Meliadoul and her team had made it to Limberry Castle. They had had to lurk in the woods nearby for a couple days, awaiting Ramza's arrival. Meliadoul had seen him enter the oddly deserted castle, and then after some time, he exited. He and his team looked a bit worse for wear than they had when they first walked in the gates.

Now Ramza and his friends were approaching the entrance to the undercroft of the castle. Meliadoul decided that now was as good a time as any, to try to approach the Beoulve boy. However, she was not planning to put her friends in danger this time. She hoped that Ramza would be willing to speak with her peacefully, but she had no guarantee of that.

Meliadoul quickly explained to the other women that she needed to speak to Ramza, about a matter of great importance. She also told them that she planned to go alone. For the past couple of days, she had refused to tell anyone her real reasons for spying on the Beoulve boy. Obviously, her comrades had not been expecting a peace talk with him. He was a heretic, and they served the Church!

They all protested. But Meliadoul was in charge, and they had to accept her decision. She told them to wait there, and not to attempt to avenge her if she died during this mission.

Ramza and his crew had already disappeared into the undercroft. Quietly as she could, Meliadoul hurried to catch up to them.

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As they paced through the undercroft, Ramza was thinking that he was getting seriously annoyed with his enemies teleporting away every time a fight got serious. Elmdor had even taunted him in a ghostly whisper that he should come down to the undercroft if he wanted to find his 'darling sister.'

Why did we not just start the fight in the goddamn undercroft, then? Ramza wondered. He had had to fight Celia and Lede, a handful of lesser demons, and Elmdor himself, just to be told that he should go to the undercroft to finish what he started. Honestly.

And naturally, there was no sign of Alma when he caught up with Elmdor again, deep underground. Ramza let out a long sigh. Another dead end, another trick. He had no choice but to keep following along.

Well, unless he made the choice to give up on Alma and Ivalice entirely. And he would not do that.

He felt an odd sense of déjà vu when Elmdor revealed his 'true' form, as the Lucavi demon called Zalera. Was it strange to get used to it, seeing men turn into demons?

Zalera was not even the nastiest-looking one he had seen so far. He was certainly ugly, with his giant insect-like body. But he had nothing on Cuchulainn, as far as being grotesque.

Zalera hissed at him, "Here dying, join my legion of undeath. Your blood, the roses on unhallow'd graves!"

An unexpected voice cried out from behind Ramza's party. It said, "The marquis is made a demon!? What devilry is this?"

Ramza turned his head only half-way, futilely trying to see in front and behind himself at once. It was Meliadoul Tingel, the woman who had accused him of killing her brother, Izlude. How in hell had she gotten here?

Zalera, looking like a giant mosquito waiting to be swatted, randomly cast both Doom and Sleep onto various members of Ramza's group. Like a coward, Zalera hovered at the far back of the room.

"This… this is the work of the auracite?" Meliadoul stammered.

As he hurried to strike his sleeping teammates awake, Ramza called over to her, "Do you now believe me? Your brother Izlude learned this foul truth, and died fighting it!"

Meliadoul kicked Agrias, who was asleep in front of her. Ramza thought that Meliadoul may have kicked a little harder than was strictly necessary to awaken her. Agrias shot up, startled.

Meliadoul said to Ramza, "You… you speak true? My father, Vormav—does he know of this?"

Ramza tried to reply, but Zalera spoke over him in a loud buzzing whine. Zalera cackled, "Before me stands the seed of Vormav's loins? So much alike with brother Izlude, both heirs of father's numen unpossess'd. The sire's flesh, a vessel without flaw!"

Well, Ramza thought, at least now we know for sure that Meliadoul is not one of the possessed.

Meliadoul cried, "My father is host to a demon?!"

"Truth dawns within this child's naivety," Zalera whined, "What once was hers, now kin to naught but woe. Let not such trifles weigh upon you now. Ere long you shall know darkness deeper still!"

A few lesser monsters had arrived to assist Zalera, and Meliadoul struck one of these with her Hellcry Punch. She shouted, "Forgive me, Ramza! I took your words as false. I thought you for an enemy."

Striding toward Zalera, Ramza called over his shoulder, "I might have done the same in your place. But now, let us avenge your brother's death!"

Ramza took down Zalera, with a bit of help from Thunder God Cid. These Lucavi were really not as tough as the legends had made them out to be, Ramza thought.

He noted that Meliadoul looked wide-eyed, while the rest of his team acted jaded, as though this were simply 'another day, another demon'.

Ramza approached her, with the zodiac stone he had just collected. Meliadoul looked around at the carnage. She eventually spotted a stone bench, in a far corner of the cavernous room. She pointed to it. "Could we speak together, perhaps, over there?"

Once they were seated, Ramza explained a bit about how the stones allowed such horrific transformations as the Marquis had just undergone.

"My mind reels to think such evil power lay concealed within this tiny crystal," Meliadoul said, "These holy relics of the Church… I had thought them no more than strangely colored stones. I knew not that they sought to work true miracles through them."

She was looking at him so earnestly as she spoke. Ramza found himself staring for too long, at her pale eyes. That gray-blue color was exotic in Ivalice; the only other person he knew with such eyes was Luso.

Ramza said, "The truth was kept well-guarded, from you and Izlude alike. Even Wiegraf knew naught of their true nature until he became a Lucavi. It is as I thought. Lord Vormav guides even the High Confessor's scheming to their ends."

Meliadoul flinched to hear such damning words about her father. But she also remembered what she had seen deep in his eyes when last they spoke. She still prayed it might not be true, about her father being one of them. Perhaps the light in the library had just been funny that day. Perhaps she had been mad with grief over Izlude.

Meliadoul said, "What is it they wish?"

Ramza shook his head. "I cannot see their ends. If we are to judge from Riovanes, they possess power enough already to drive an army to its knees. Yet still they do not use it, or even flaunt it openly. There must be a reason, and that reason is our answer."

"Surely they stay their hands for something," Meliadoul said, "The Lucavi are cruel and wicked, and cannot be felled by men. Every tale and legend paints them the same."

"So they do. But I have seen these monsters slain. They do not appear to be the undying demons of which the legends speak."

Meliadoul shrugged. "Legends are but stories, embellished with each new telling. Mayhap the Lucavi are no more than ordinary fiends."

This made Ramza smile. She did not know how rare her opinion was; most people took the legends for the absolute truth. Meliadoul so casually stated that the legends might be wrong, when those words, said to the wrong person, could easily get her named as a heretic as well.

"Let us pray that you are right," he replied, in a lighthearted tone.

Meliadoul extended the hand that was holding the Sagittarius stone. She put it practically under his nose, until he took it from her. "I trust the auracite to you," she said. "But I ask a favor in return. Take me with you. I must know what made my father as he is. I cannot simply go on serving the High Confessor's whims after what has transpired here."

"Of course," Ramza said. "There is always room for one more to travel with us."

"Well… how about more than one?" Meliadoul added, "My team is still waiting for me outside. Honestly… I am not sure if any of them will believe me, when I tell them what happened to the Marquis. But if they do, would you accept some of my friends into your party as well?"

"Meliadoul, I can tell you from experience that it will be a miracle if any of your friends believe you, without having seen the demon for themselves. But you may ask them, if you like." He smiled wryly, his expression saying that he was pretty sure none of her teammates would choose to follow a crazed heretic around Ivalice.

When Meliadoul smiled back at him, Ramza fidgeted. Her whole face sort of scrunched up in a cute way when she smiled. He felt a strange urge to poke the dimples in her cheeks. He dropped his gaze to his feet.

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