Chapter Twenty

Lake Poescas, at the eastern edge of Limberry, was an extremely creepy and extremely haunted place. For the purposes of Ramza's group, however, it was as cozy a safe haven as one could hope to find.

They did not camp directly beside the cracked, dried-up lake bed, since violent ghosts would surely harass them all night. The team was relatively safe now, having set up their camp some distance away. They were still close enough to the haunted site that no one sane ever chose to come here, but the ghosts also did not venture out quite this far from their home base.

It was a lovely, starry night. Limberry's weather was always at least a bit warmer than Igros's or Lesalia's, and Alma was enjoying their version of autumn. It was dry here, and the lack of humidity was a welcome change. The breeze was chilly enough that she needed her cloak, but not so cold that she felt uncomfortable.

In fact, this was probably the most comfortable campsite they had found, since leaving Orbonne. The parched land they settled on for the night was devoid of trees, critters, and bugs. They wouldn't have to deal with spiders and other pests sneaking into their tents tonight, at least.

Malak had picked up a bottle of whiskey at the last town, and they were passing it around, each taking a swig. Alma had never in her life drank anything stronger than wine, but she found that she liked the way the whiskey warmed her up as it burned its way down her throat, leaving her head feeling pleasantly empty. Their fire crackled merrily, and Meliadoul was regaling them with all of the spooky tales she had ever heard, regarding this region.

Ramza had also asked Malak and Rad to pick up some cakes from the town's bakery, since he knew Alma had a sweet tooth. Ramza seemed to constantly be thinking of ways to try to make her happy, lately.

Now pleasantly full of whiskey and apple tarts, Alma reclined onto her side by the fire, relaxing and watching the others. The young Skyseer, Rafa, sat very primly, her posture quite good even while cross-legged on the ground. The dark-skinned and dark-eyed girl was exceptionally pretty, with her high, delicate cheekbones. She appeared to be shy or reserved, though, and she didn't smile or jest as much as the others did.

Rafa's older brother, Malak, (the one she recognized from her time in captivity in Riovanes) was also quite good-looking. His face was broad, with glittering black eyes and a sharply-defined jaw that often appeared to be clenched in a tense manner. He looked almost terrifyingly serious most of the time, but Alma noticed that in settings like this, Malak was able to loosen up. He laughed as loudly as Meliadoul, sometimes, when a joke was told.

He was laughing right now, as was everyone else around the campfire, other than Alma herself. Alma hadn't been paying attention, but someone must have said something funny while she was busy daydreaming. The small gap between Malak's large front teeth added a bit of silly charm to his otherwise intimidating face.

Alma was happy to see Rad laughing now, too. Though she had not broken her silence at the time, she had felt terrible for Rad when she had heard him begging Luso not to leave their group. Ramza and the others had begun making more of an effort to include Rad in their random chatter during their marches, to cheer him up. It seemed to be helping.

Right now, Ramza was laying with his head resting on Meliadoul's lap, and his eyes closed. Meliadoul was so distracted with her storytelling that she accidentally bopped Ramza on the nose when she made an excited gesture. Ramza grabbed her hand and held it tight against his chest, apparently to prevent further nose bopping.

Mustadio was sitting next to his father, Besrodio Bunanza, and Besrodio's chocobo was tethered nearby.

Besrodio was the only member of the group who rode a chocobo, as they traveled. The man needed a cane even to walk, so they couldn't very well expect him to keep up on his own two feet during the marches. The chocobo was a bit of a liability, as it might draw extra attention to their group, but there was really no better alternative than to risk it.

The two Bunanza men looked startlingly similar. More than just father and son, they looked like the same golden-haired person, pictured once at age twenty-one and again at age fifty-seven.

Alma felt a little twinge of unease whenever she looked at Mustadio. He had tried to encourage her to speak more, in the early days after they escaped Hell. But she had avoided him as much as she could, and he had given up after getting a cold shoulder from her a few times.

She didn't mean to hurt his feelings. She just couldn't say much right now.

That evening, Mustadio did most of the back-and-forth bantering with Meliadoul, frequently cutting in and arguing about the details of her spooky tale. Meliadoul did not seem to mind; she mostly laughed while they bickered.

Alma let the autumn breeze, the dark night, the whiskey, the chattering, and the fire's heat wash through her. She remembered to appreciate it as thoroughly as she could. She knew what a blessing it all was, after spending so long trapped in a bedchamber in a castle.

She did not join in with the laughing and the chattering, but she contentedly watched her brother and his friends, enjoying the sight of the firelight playing off their hair and turning their shadowy grinning faces golden.

Rafa offered to split a second apple tart with her, and Alma nodded in agreement. The sticky pastry tasted nice, washed down with another sip of the burning whiskey. The wind shifted, and the woodsy smoke from the campfire began to blow into her face, so she moved over to sit next to Meliadoul and Ramza.

Alma pulled her cloak up around her head and lay back to look at the countless stars in the clear night sky. She had occasionally heard others remark that looking up at the stars made them feel insignificant, in comparison. That had never been the case, for Alma. No, it made her feel safe; like she was lovingly cradled in the center of an endless web of light; like she was inextricably an important part of this magic.

They all were.

Alma could have happily remained suspended in the haze of that autumn night for all of eternity. But, as good times often do, the evening seemed to pass entirely too quickly.

"That was amusing!" Malak said, as they were getting ready to settle into their tents, "Though, I'm not certain I will sleep terribly well after hearing all those stories, and half of them about the ghosts not a mile away from here."

"Not to worry, Mally," Mustadio commented. The machinist had been having too much fun lately, calling Malak by the nickname Lavian had used for him. "None of those tales were true; Meliadoul just makes things up as she goes along."

"Look, they were probably about half-true… maybe a quarter-true," Meliadoul insisted. "Give me a break, Mustadio! History was never my best subject in school. Next time, Ramza can tell the ghost stories. He remembers everything he hears, as long as he bothered to actually pay attention in the first place."

"I think I slept through most of the storytelling tonight," Ramza admitted. "Drank too much of that whiskey… Alma, are you ready to get in the tent? I am going to fall asleep here on my feet."

Alma hesitantly replied, "I think I will share a tent with Rafa tonight. If Rafa does not mind my company?"

Seven pairs of eyes immediately swiveled to look at her, and Alma tried not to appear nervous about it. She knew they were all stunned to hear her voluntarily speak, since she had done her best to avoid talking ever since Ramza's group rescued her from Vormav.

She had her reasons for that.

But this evening, she found that she really had to say something. Alma had been sharing a tent with Agrias each night, before Agrias's group split off from theirs, to go look after Ovelia. But after Agrias left, Alma had been sharing a tent with Ramza, at Ramza's insistence. He knew that Alma barely knew Meliadoul or Rafa, and they were the only other women in the party. Since Ramza didn't want to force Alma to share a tent with someone she didn't know (especially given that Alma's silence seemed to indicate that she was in a fragile mental state), he had told her to share his tent, while Meliadoul shared with Rafa.

Alma truly did not like this arrangement.

Ramza had been sharing his tent with Meliadoul before this, and it was obvious that the two were lovers. Meliadoul did not speak a word of complaint, but Alma wondered if the Divine Knight was annoyed to be kicked out of her boyfriend's tent, so that his weirdly-silent little sister could sleep there instead.

Alma didn't want to cause drama with Meliadoul, or anyone else in this party. She would have been perfectly happy to share a tent with Rafa in the first place, but she hadn't trusted herself to argue the point out loud.

Now, she had been reluctantly sharing a tent with Ramza for around two weeks, as they made their way ever closer to the border between Ivalice and Ordallia. It meant a lot to her, how Ramza was so worried about her, even now that she was safe from Vormav and his schemes. Ramza was truly the most kind and brave person she could ever hope to have in her life. She could not believe how much selfless effort he had put in to saving her life, when no one else would have bothered to do so.

But still… Alma was occasionally feeling the urge to beat her darling brother senseless as he slept.

She had never known that it was possible for one man to fart so much during the night. Ramza blamed it on all the dried fruit they had to eat, while traveling. Alma had taken to smacking him whenever it happened, but he always just muttered 'sorry,' and rolled away from her, making no effort to hold in any future gaseous emissions.

Why did Meliadoul willingly share a tent with this boy? Why would anyone, Alma wondered?

And as if that were not bad enough, some nights when they were supposed to be settling in to go to sleep, Ramza would tell her he would 'be right back,' and then leave the tent for thirty minutes or so. Mayhap he thought he was being subtle, but Alma had no doubt that he had been creeping away into the woods with Meliadoul on these occasions, considering that he always returned to the tent unusually cheerful, and sweatier than he had been before he left.

It made Alma's skin crawl to think that her brother had been doing… that… just before laying down two feet away from her to sleep together in their tiny tent. It was about damn time that she said something, even if she still felt worried about talking out loud.

"You are welcome to share my tent! Of course, Alma," Rafa said kindly.

"Oh! Um, a—all right. Good," Ramza stammered. He looked confused, but he didn't seem to want to deny Alma anything, right now. They were all surprised, but very pleased, that the girl had spoken more than two words in a row.

Ramza and Meliadoul exchanged a guilty look, but didn't argue further with Alma's choice.

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Agrias Oaks and Wulfhilda Hoplamodas sat together in the tiny front room of the rowhouse they had rented in Lesalia royal city. They were waiting on a message from Queen Ovelia, and feeling terribly excited.

Or, at least Agrias was feeling excited. It was always hard to tell how Wulfhilda felt about anything, really. But, could this be the day they took action, Agrias wondered? Could it truly be today, after so much time spent waiting and scheming?

Balthier and Alicia were out at the market, picking up supplies to make dinner tonight. Alicia had also brought along a parcel full of clothing fit for a servant. If things went the way they hoped when Alicia checked in with Lavian just outside the palace walls, then Alicia would be delivering the parcel to Lavian quite soon…

Oh, gods. Agrias was jumpy with excitement. She wanted to be out there doing something, as well, but it made more sense to wait here to receive word from Alicia, eventually.

They had Construct 8 stashed in a bedroom upstairs, but he had been powered down ever since they arrived here and rented this house, a couple weeks ago. If they were indeed going forward with the plan after sunset tonight, then they would be waking the robot and bringing him along.

Things had worked out quite well so far, since they arrived in Lesalia. Lavian had easily obtained a position as a maid in the palace. Newly hired maids were always given the tasks no one else wanted: emptying chamber pots, scrubbing floors, carting bath water around, and the like. As a result, there was always a steady need for new entry-level maids in the palace, as many people quit the unpleasant job after only a week or two.

They were fairly certain that no one in the palace (other than Ovelia or Delita themselves) would be able to recognize Lavian as one of the heretic Ramza's associates. Lavian's name had appeared on the hand bills, but no one had ever bothered to draw her heavily-freckled face there. Only Ramza himself, and occasionally Agrias, had been well-known enough to receive that honor. Lavian wasn't worried about being seen by the king or queen while she posed as a maid in the palace. She never worked anywhere near their chambers, and even if they walked right past her, they probably wouldn't give a hunched-over maid in a headwrap a second look.

Lavian was trooping through her miserable work shifts, since her job gave them a way to get messages to and from Queen Ovelia. Lavian quickly identified which of the higher-status maids in the palace serviced Ovelia's rooms. She had then bribed one of these girls to hand a letter to the queen, claiming that the letter was from a countess who Ovelia was known to be friendly with, and the countess wished for no one else to know about the message.

They had taken into account that the maid might not be trustworthy, or might even be on Delita's secret payroll, spying on Ovelia for him. Just in case, they had written nothing incriminating in that first letter.

Agrias had penned it. Even if the words had been entirely nonsensical, she was fairly certain that Ovelia would recognize her handwriting alone. In the letter, she had recounted a private conversation that she had once had with Ovelia. She had ended the note by asking that if Ovelia wished to reply, then she answer with her own recollection of something only the two of them would know, and have her maid give that letter back to the servant who delivered this one.

She hoped that this would circumvent Delita from faking a response, while trying to trap Lavian into leading him to her friends, if he intercepted that first letter. It seemed her caution had not been necessary, however. The letter Lavian promptly received back was most definitely penned in Ovelia's hand, and it recounted yet another conversation that had been private between Agrias and Ovelia, to prove it was her. The letter finished with Ovelia imploring her friend to come to her, without attracting the notice of certain others.

They had exchanged a few more letters, through the chain of Lavian and Ovelia's maid. Enough to verify that Ovelia wanted very badly to escape the palace, and her husband. She did not feel safe there, even as the queen of Ivalice. She wanted to run away with Agrias, she said, even if it meant they had to live the mean lives of paupers.

It wouldn't be quite that bad, Agrias thought. She did have a sizeable fortune now, from all of her recent adventures with Ramza and the others. Hell, after they had killed Zalera-Elmdor, they had looted the weirdly-deserted Limberry castle… Agrias probably had more available funds than King Delita, at this point!

They could live fairly lavishly, as long as they escaped Ivalice with their lives.

In the most recent letter Lavian had delivered, Agrias had asked Ovelia to make the final decision. If she wanted out, then they would come for her, tonight. Alicia was bringing a bag of clothing fit for a palace maid, which Lavian would send along with Ovelia's maid, who was loving the generous bribes she received with each letter back-and-forth. Under cover of night, Ovelia would don the clothing, and leave the palace with Lavian, looking like two chambermaids who had just finished their shifts for the night.

Ovelia wouldn't be able to bring anything else with her. The guards on the palace wall would never let a servant leave for the day while carrying a bag full of items that appeared to belong to a noble. Ovelia would have to come empty-handed, and say goodbye forever to any cherished belongings, unless she could perfectly discretely carry them tucked inside her maid's dress.

Agrias had spent some time buying new clothing for Ovelia: mainly squire's gear. While they fled Ivalice, Delita and his men would be looking for a young noblewoman. No one would expect Ovelia to be dressed and armored as a simple squire.

Now, they just had to wait to find out Ovelia's reply. Could the girl truly be ready to give up her throne and flee with them?

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Author's Note: Hi warzonecall, Josh1013, and ozaetra! Thank you all so much for your reviews on the last chapter! I really get so happy to know that anyone is reading this story :) I never really had any formal training in writing, so every time I post something, even if I think it's good, I do sort of wonder if it's just boring to other people. I hadn't written anything for fun in many years, before picking back up with writing FFT fanfiction last year. I was feeling like I needed a creative outlet, but I wasn't sure I could do a very good job at this, and I'm so glad that anyone else besides me is enjoying this fic!

Also, I wanted to share this, in case anyone is like me: if you're looking for a new tv show to watch, you should definitely watch the show called 'Dark' on Netflix. The three main characters in Dark traipsing around their spooky town of Winden gives me major vibes of Ramza, Delita, and Algus wandering around Ivalice in chapter one of FFT. The characters are actually even similar to each other personality-wise, with Jonas as Ramza, Bartosz as Algus, and Magnus as Delita. Even weirder, the character called Ulrich in Dark looks eerily a lot like Vormav, to me. I guess the similarities between Dark and FFT pretty much end there, except that overall Jonas is, in fact, lowkey trying to save his world from doom, while the jerks around him aren't as helpful. If you guys do watch it, let me know what you think, and if you get that same impression from the show! I really enjoyed it; I thought the plot was really good, in addition to loving any character out there that can give me Ramza vibes, haha :)