Chapter Seven
Those who had indulged in the ale last night were not feeling their best the next morning. Meliadoul was laying on her back on the ground, letting the warmth of the sunshine on her face help to soothe her hangover a bit. She groaned in misery occasionally. Rafa and Wulfhilda sat close to her, looking smug. Meliadoul was beginning to think that maybe they had the right idea, refusing to drink at all.
Rad and Lavian were in even worse shape than Meliadoul. They were still occasionally dashing over to the bushes to dry heave. Ramza, Mustadio, Alicia, and Cid seemed to be handling themselves better, though they all felt less than optimal.
"Why do we do this every time?" Lavian complained, after returning from her last vomiting trip. "I swear, we claim we won't drink too much every single time we go to the tavern. Then, we always do!"
"I can tell you from experience, that it only gets worse as you get older," Cid said to Lavian. "At my age, I shall feel the effects of last night for the next week."
Rad moaned, then jumped up and ran to the bushes again.
Eventually, Meliadoul felt well enough to stagger to her feet. She wandered over to the area where Mustadio and Ramza sat next to a cart full of strange-looking items. There were metal gears, metal casings, wires, and many materials that she simply could not identify, based on anything else she had ever seen in her life. It was the sort of gear she had spotted here and there during her one visit to the Clockwork City of Goug, a few years ago.
She had noticed Mustadio, and occasionally Ramza, tinkering with the items in the cart during the evenings over the past few days, but she had not felt that she knew them well enough yet to come over and ask questions about it. Now that they had a whole day to relax at the campsite, she decided to investigate.
The sunlight glinted off Mustadio's dirty-blond hair, which was pulled back in a short ponytail, as well as off of Ramza's shaggy flaxen mop. The light gave them both the appearance of having a lit-from-within halo about their heads. Meliadoul had always thought her own dark brown hair was sort of a boring color, compared to all the blonds and redheads she was often surrounded by in Ivalice.
Her hair hung loose down her back today, nearly to her waist. She did not like to braid it or tie it up, since those styles always seemed to cause her to get headaches, after a while. Instead, she usually wore her green hood and head wrap up over her head, to avoid the need for elaborate hairstyling. She supposed no one in this law-breaking group would judge her for simply leaving her hair loose and wild on this hungover morning.
Mustadio was already busy taking something apart with a screwdriver, the rope-like muscles in his forearms straining with each twist. Ramza was not being quite as efficient, yet. Perhaps last night's ale had affected him more than he was letting on. He was sitting quietly, occasionally taking a sip from a large container.
Meliadoul raised her eyebrows. "Having more to drink already, Ramza?"
He smiled and shook his head. "No, this is only milk. I had the barkeep fill it up for me just before we left the tavern last night."
"Milk?"
"Yes. It helps me with hangovers."
"Oh, Ajora. May I have a sip, then?"
He handed it over.
"Do not believe him, Meliadoul," Mustadio said. "Ramza is the only fool in the camp who thinks milk is a hangover cure."
Meliadoul took a few sips anyway. She would happily try any hangover cure, right now.
"What is all of this?" she asked, gesturing at Mustadio's cart full of curiosities.
Mustadio brightened. "These are things I managed to hold on to during some of my work in Goug. My father and I have been excavating for years, and we have found all sorts of wonders!"
Meliadoul took a seat on the ground next to the cart, between Mustadio and Ramza. "What do they do?" she asked.
"Well… for the most part, I have no idea," Mustadio admitted. "But I have figured out how to use a few of them. My weapon, for instance. And, this device that can electrocute a person, from short range. It's not as effective as a mage's attack, but it is still rather interesting."
Ramza shook his head slightly. He suspected that in her new relationship, Agrias would never have to yell at Balthier for getting electrocuted during a prank by his best friend.
"May I look at them?" Meliadoul asked, her hand poised at the edge of the cart.
"Be my guest!" Mustadio said grandly, gesturing at the items in the cart. "Touch whatever you please, only do not hold me responsible if something blasts your fingers off."
With that warning in mind, Meliadoul very gingerly picked up a rectangular item with a shattered glass screen. It appeared black inside, behind the glass. She could see why Mustadio had admitted that he did not know what these items were supposed to do. This device appeared odd, indeed.
"Meliadoul, may I ask you a question?" Ramza said, after they had all been silently tinkering for a few minutes.
Meliadoul shrugged. "Well, you won at darts last night, so I suppose you might have an answer from me as your prize… Unless I dislike your question," she amended.
Ramza enjoyed the reminder that he had won the game. Mustadio had been an acceptable partner, but Ramza had definitely carried the team to victory. He said, "Ever since that day you attacked us, I have been wondering why you traveled with a team of only women? That seemed unusual, even for the Templarate?"
Meliadoul replied with a lighthearted smirk, "Oh, that is simple. It's because I despise men."
Ramza thought that was a rather strange response, especially considering that Meliadoul seemed to find it pleasant enough to spend time with him and Mustadio.
Mustadio just snickered.
Ramza only managed to respond with a confused, "Oh." Perhaps he had better try to squash the attraction he felt toward Meliadoul. He ought not to spend all his time thinking about a woman who would not welcome the attention.
Looking up, he saw that Agrias was now approaching them, as well. Ramza could not help feeling slightly bitter, for a moment, knowing that she had just recently crawled out of Balthier's tent.
Agrias stared down at the three of them tinkering by the cart. She commented to Meliadoul, "Hmm. I had not thought you the sort of woman to join in with these clowns, spending all their time playing with toys."
Meliadoul looked up, appraising Agrias very slowly and thoughtfully. "Well," she said, her wicked grin back in place, "I've no sky pirate to keep me busy all morning, so I had to find other entertainment."
Mustadio and Ramza met each other's eyes, disbelieving, before they both began cackling. Agrias's face was thunderous. She looked ready to actually stab Meliadoul, who was still just sitting there grinning mischievously.
Agrias barely managed to get a grip on her temper. "You are as bad as they are!" she spat at Meliadoul, before she turned and huffed away.
Meliadoul raised her eyebrows. "Whew. I did not think a little teasing would upset her that much. I hope she will still continue my swordplay lessons after this."
Mustadio shook his head, with a wry smile. He said, "I do not think she is truly mad at you. I would bet that she came over here just to bother Ramza."
Meliadoul gave him a confused look.
He replied, "Things are still a bit strange between them, ever since Agrias ended their relationship."
"Oh. I had not known the two of you had a relationship," Meliadoul said awkwardly to Ramza. "What happened?"
Before Ramza could come up with an answer, Mustadio butted in, "We are fairly certain she quit him because he got a bald patch on his head."
Meliadoul snorted mirthfully. "A bald patch?" She could not see any such thing, as she stared at Ramza's thick mop of hair. When neither of the men made any effort to tell her this was just a jest, she added, "Truly? Let me see it!"
Ramza made an embarrassed face. He wanted to impress Meliadoul… even though her recent statement seemed to indicate that she would have no interest in him, beyond friendship. Still. Ramza would have been happy to show her any of the 'manly' battle scars he had obtained on his travels. But, of course, the embarrassing bald patch on his head had to be the item that was brought up during casual conversation with her.
He could kill Mustadio, right now.
Looking sheepish, Ramza slid his coarse blond hair so that it flopped down to the opposite side of his head, allowing Meliadoul to see the shiny, circular patch of pink burned skin on his scalp.
Meliadoul chortled. Then she laughed very hard, while smacking Mustadio's shoulder a few times in delight. Mustadio was cracking up along with her. Meliadoul finally managed to gasp out, "She… left you… because—" another cackle burst out of her, "—because you got a… bald patch!" Her face was practically purple with mirth.
Ramza cracked a smile himself, although he still wished he could have kept hiding the bald patch from Meliadoul. Showing it had not exactly felt like a step in the right direction toward earning her regard.
"That is not entirely true," Ramza said, finally. "I think the main reason Agrias quit me was because she was tired of me spending so much time with this cretin." Ramza gestured at Mustadio.
Mustadio raised his eyebrows. "Is that true? You never told me!"
Ramza chuckled. "I did not wish to hurt your feelings, friend."
Mustadio looked affronted. "I cannot believe Agrias dislikes me!" he exclaimed.
Once they had both given Mustadio vague reassurances that he was not such a terrible person, Ramza returned to fiddling with one of the devices, while Mustadio began rummaging around the cart.
Meliadoul was still studying Ramza. She found she was curious to know how old he was. While examining his hilarious bald patch, she had noticed that there were already white hairs scattered throughout his blond ones. He also had some lines etched around his eyes and temples, though they might be due to worrying, or from too much time spent in the sun. She would guess that Ramza was older than she was, though he did not seem quite old enough to have those types of lines from simple aging.
Even more confusing, his jaw still had a bit of boyish roundness. Ramza did not look like he would even be able to grow a full beard; she doubted he ever had to shave much more than his upper lip and a few stray hairs on his cheeks. That did not necessarily mean that he was young, of course. She was aware that some men, especially blonds, never gained the ability to grow a full beard.
Meliadoul knew it was rude to simply ask someone's age, but she was terribly curious. If she had to guess, she would put him around twenty-six or twenty-seven, maybe. She found she really wanted to know the answer.
And she had never been one to deny her curiosity for long. "How old are you, Ramza?" she finally blurted out.
"Twenty," Ramza said, looking surprised at the question.
Meliadoul's mind reeled. He was only twenty?! Good gods! The stress of life as a heretic must have aged him beyond his years. She was legitimately stunned to learn that he was younger than she was.
"Hmm. I would have guessed you were older," she said.
Ramza smiled. "You are not the first person to say so. I am beginning to believe that I shall be as gray-haired as my father was, by the time I am twenty-five."
Meliadoul gave a careless shrug. "Some men look handsome with gray hair."
This made Ramza blush a bit. Was she flirting with him? Or was he just hoping she was flirting with him?
Sometime later, Mustadio happened to mention the Germonic Scriptures in front of Meliadoul. Ramza flinched a little. He had not wished to tell her about the book, at least not yet.
Ramza liked Meliadoul, and he wanted to believe that she was trustworthy, but the Scriptures were too important. He did not yet know for certain that she, as a newcomer to their party, could be trusted with the knowledge of the book's existence.
Of course, now the cat was out of the bag. Meliadoul was intrigued, and she was begging to take a look at the book herself. Ramza found it nearly impossible to say no to her, as she wheedled at him.
Finally, he told her, "I could not let you take the book out of my sight, to read it."
"I would not steal it from you! You think I am some common thief?" Meliadoul exclaimed, indignant.
"Do not take offense! I would not even leave Mustadio alone with this book! I keep it with me always. It was even in my pack while we were at the tavern!"
Meliadoul glared.
"You may look at it while you sit beside me. I can offer no more than that," Ramza insisted.
She grudgingly agreed to those terms.
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A couple days later, another assailant managed to catch up with Ramza's merry band as they skirted around the Trade City of Dorter.
From the roof of a nearby squat building, a man arrogantly called out to them, "So, the marquis has fallen."
Ramza squinted up at the man. He had slicked-back dark hair and wore silvery-white robes. His expression vividly reminded Ramza of his former friend-turned-nemesis, Algus. It was smirking and arrogant. A very punch-able face, indeed.
"And who might you be?" Ramza retorted.
"My name is Sir Kletian. I come in Lord Vormav's stead, to see his will made manifest."
Ramza perked up at that news. "A knight of the Templarate, then? Where is Alma?!" he shouted. He began to move toward the sneering man who claimed he acted as a surrogate for Vormav. Maybe, if they could take him alive, then they could get some useful information out of him.
The man raised his arm and muttered something, there was an odd glow in the air, and then Ramza found he could no longer move his legs. His eyes blinked, and breath continued to move in and out of him, but he could not take another step.
"My… my limbs are frozen! What foul trick is this!?" Ramza exclaimed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that his friends beside him were also frozen in place.
Kletian proudly explained, "A time magic of my own fabrication, its might all but wasted on one such as you. I thought myself overcautious in readying a trap, but it appears that was not the case. You'll find no avail in a struggle. You've not the strength of will to break free." The sorcerer gave another smug grin, before adding, "Make your peace. You go to the gods!"
As soon as Kletian finished speaking, he was struck from the side with a Shellbust Stab. Thankfully, the spell of his strange time magic was broken when he was hit.
"What!?" Kletian shrieked, after stumbling to his knees from the pain of the blow.
Ramza spotted Meliadoul far to their left. She must have sneaked away from the group the moment she saw Kletian on the roof. They were lucky she had been able to surprise him with an attack while they were all frozen. And lucky she appeared to be staying true to them, rather than rejoining her Templar buddy. Ramza quietly ordered his teammates to scatter. They could not stay clumped together, if Kletian might use that trick again.
Meliadoul called out, "Sir Kletian. How long has it been since last we met?"
"Yours is an unexpected sight," Kletian growled at Meliadoul, "Tell me, when did you don the traitor's cloak?"
"I was not aware I had!" Meliadoul shouted back, "Is not that garment draped about your own shoulders? It is Izlude and I who were used, by you and all the others!"
Kletian sneered. "What of it, if you were?"
"Those sins will be atoned for," Meliadoul steadied her blade in front of her, about to send another Divine blast his way. "It seems you played your part in bringing about my brother's death." She scowled, "Now, there shall be no mercy for you."
A few summoners and time mages began to creep around the building, preparing to aid and defend Sir Kletian.
Kletian now directed his strange form of time magic at Meliadoul, who stood alone. He focused enough to freeze her in place, before she could strike at him again.
Silent as nightfall, Wulfhilda snuck up behind one of Kletian's time mages, and hacked at the mage with her double ninja swords, felling him. Ramza and the others charged, in a frontal attack.
Even while frozen in place, Meliadoul called out to Kletian: "Know you the Stones' secret—what it is my father means to do?"
Feeling secure, up on the roof above them all, with his magical shielding, Kletian casually replied, "He strives toward a grand and lofty goal. Of it, I will say no more. Such things exceed your feeble capacity for understanding."
"You know the truth, and yet you aid him!? Why would you do such a thing?" Meliadoul said, dumbfounded.
Kletian snorted. "My reasons, you've no need to know."
Lavian cast Firaga up at Kletian, but the spell fizzled out before it came anywhere near the Sorcerer. It seemed his strange magic was protecting him from such attacks.
Ramza left the frontal assault to his capable friends, and, with both of his swords sheathed, he began to scale the back wall of the building. He had loved to climb trees as a child. This was really not so different, with the many handholds provided by windowsills and bricks and gutters.
He triumphantly swung himself up onto the roof, agile as a monkey. His swords were out of their sheaths just as quickly. Kletian turned, spotting him, and the Sorcerer's face blanched paper-white in shock and horror.
Ramza grinned devilishly. Just as he slammed one of his blades into Kletian's unarmored stomach. It sliced easily through robe and flesh, the tip poking out of Kletian's back. Those silvery while robes suddenly did not look so pristine.
The gut wound should subdue Kletian long enough, Ramza thought, until they could bind his hands to prevent him from using his magic. Then, they could give Kletian a few potions to keep him alive, and interrogate him at their leisure, deep in the woods. Find out once and for all where Alma was being imprisoned, and what sort of forces awaited there.
But Ramza had forgotten about the damn teleporting.
Even with a blade in his belly, Kletian managed to lift his hands up and say the word. He vanished, disappearing into thin air before the Beoulve could stop him.
Ramza shouted a string of profanities that were most unbecoming of a nobleman. He threw his bloodied sword down with a loud clang. There was nothing in front of him to strike, so he punched himself in the chest. It hurt, even through the leather and chainmail.
He knew he was having a bit of a tantrum, but goddammit, he felt he deserved to, at this point. Another missed opportunity. Another villain just barely slipping through his fingers.
Ramza felt a bit better, when he finally climbed down from the roof to rejoin his party about ten minutes later. He had just needed to process his rage and frustration alone.
Meliadoul gave him an unfathomable look as he sought her out. Ramza smiled warmly, and slung an arm around her armored shoulders, giving her a clanking squeeze. "Thanks for saving our necks when we got frozen in place," he said.
Meliadoul found herself flushing, though she normally accepted such compliments with ease. She replied, "I could say the same to you, I suppose. I apologize that there was no time for me to warn the rest of the group about him. Wulfhilda and I darted off to either side the moment we spied him… but if we had called out a warning, then Kletian would have struck immediately, and we might have all been trapped." She pursed her lips. "He was always showing off, back when I was a squire. He was so smug that he had created a new form of time magic. Honestly, it felt good to ruin his fun."
Ramza grinned. "Then I wish you could have seen the look on his face when I caught up to him on the roof."
Meliadoul laughed. "You are probably the first person in years to have gotten close enough to point a sword at Kletian! I would bet he pissed in his pretty robes when he saw you!"
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