A "Tactic" Too Short.
(Narrator's notes: )
Welcome to my first attempt at a story about a video game (besides Pokémon, as you all know I love). I'm sorry if you happen to be getting sick of me re-using my canon characters again and again in different scenarios, but I'm just trying to find out what the best type of tale would be to introduce them to the world. Whether you're familiar with them or not, I can tell you now that the process of development involved with each of them has become so long and arduous that I daren't let them go. Each one'll be a part of me, probably for the rest of my life. I hope you grow to love them just as much as I do.
Yep, this is a rip-off of FFT (for all of you who're no good with acronyms, that's Final Fantasy Tactics), and though I've used some canon characters as mentions, they're not an active part of the story—yet—so if you were looking for something warping your very view of Final Fantasy as you know it, I'm afraid you're outta luck. If you're looking for an involving story full of gore and intrigue, you've come to the right place.
Oh, and might I warn those who're not used to the way I swing with my guys—yes, there will be some hinting at yaoi, but for all of those who're anal about types of romance, it's nothing graphic or involved. If you want THAT, you'll have to wait for a different sort of series :3 Kae has them. Just ask. But this one will not be a romantic tale of any sort, so don't get your hopes up. Romances are all too easy to write—I'm looking for the biggest challenge out there—to write a non-romantic novel that'll still hold peoples' interest. Satisfied? Then read.
Chapter #1
There's a famous saying: You can't judge a book by its cover. It takes people longer than they might ever imagine to really figure that out. Whether they know it or they truly believe it, it reigns true of anyone. How they look might be the farthest thing from who they are.
I found that out when I enlisted to be a part of the Lion War—or, at least, that had been my original intent. Things don't always turn out the way you'd like them to. Oh, not that I'm complaining now—but it would've been nice to know what I'd be going up against when I tagged up with a bunch of ragtag renegades who, unusually enough, turned out to be assassins.
When they told me I'd been hired, I was ecstatic! No more waiting in the recruiting office! No more boring, drawn-out days playing chess with the other soldiers! No more office! Yeah, I know I said that already—that was just how much I wanted to get OUT of there!
Now, some might tell you that a Cancer is a wishy-washy personality—that they'd rather run from a fight than charge right in—but I'll let you in on one thing: we're not. I was just as eager to face up against a Dragon or a Chocobo as any of the knights in this place… it was just the Cancerian rumor that had everyone else getting picked but me. Honest! I wanted nothing better than to fight! It was a blessing, the day this wayward pack of soldiers staggered in, in full dress according to their jobs, looking for an addition like little ol' me.
Now, what I thought was strange about these fellows was, firstly, that they seemed to be an all-male team… two older gents accompanying three younger soldiers with a slew of monsters perched calmly in the lobby. Wait… monsters? What were these nutcases thinking? One of those things could probably turn on them at any minute, and they'd never know what happened! But no… a great big Red Dragon just lay obediently at a small man's side (or was he a boy? He appeared to be awfully young, but there was hair on his face…), while a great black Behemoth began to nudge at one of them almost… playfully. They must've had a tamer in their midst! My lord, those beasts were huge! Of course… those were just what had caught my eye first. In the background on the other side of one of the older men was a beast I'd only heard about once in training—a Sacred… a gigantic violet Minotaur said to have unmentionable power. I began to think to myself: what was I getting myself into, thinking about facing these things?
"What's your name?"
Huh? Had I been addressed? ME?
"Yes, you there—with the shocked look on your face," the shortest-set of them confirmed, a rather mysterious smile adorning his almost catlike face. "Tell me, soldier—what's your alias?"
I was at my feet in a split second. "R-Riles McPherson, sir!"
"Aw, you were right," one of the pale-skinned lads in a Knight's cape admitted to a shorter man in Wizard's robes. "His name was closer to 'Ryan'."
"What'd Ah tell ya'?" the stockier man asked, a dark Scottish brogue tinting a powerful voice. Though he wasn't completely hidden from view like a normal Black Mage might be, he was mostly shaded by his cloak and hat, and I couldn't make out his appearance. All I could see was a long, trailing braid of bronze hair hanging at his ankles. "Now pay up."
Ehh… whaaat? They'd been making a… a bet? On what my name was? Now tell me that wasn't ALL they'd come here for! That would just be an insult! I mean, who in their right mind just parades into the soldier's office with a slew of dangerous-looking beasts just to make a mockery of some poor, unwitting Squire?
The smallest of them began to laugh a bit softly as some gold was exchanged between the hands of the Knight and the Mage. "Ignore them," he told me assuringly. "That's not the point of why we came here." He seemed to glance back at them, and they froze as the mage swept his hand back under his cloak. "Is it?"
Though the small man was calm, the two seemed to know he was serious—neither of them made any smart remarks, and the Knight even shook his head in shameful response.
"Good." The short man stated this with that same level-headedness, but there was still something intimidating about him. Perhaps the bold red hair was a bit unsettling, but I couldn't quite place just why he seemed to have reign over the rest of them. "We're here to hire—and Riles? I believe you've just made the cut."
"Yes, sir!" I replied to the groans of the rest of those who'd been watching in anticipation to see just what these weirdoes were up to. Though they were bountifully provided with any soldier they could ever dream of training into something useful, they'd chosen me! Hallelujah! I was almost just happy enough to start dancing! O-of course, I'd leave that to a real Dancer… I was no good at it. There were female Squires who spoke of someday becoming Dancers… but I was perfectly content just to be able to leave this place and all its monotony. Goodbye, stone walls! Goodbye, man-at-the-counter-signing-my-name! Goodbye, fellow soldiers who didn't get picked! Today was my day to shine.
As soon as the paperwork was done, the smallest one swept a hand toward him, coaxing me onward. He wasn't much of a talker, even though he had a fine voice. He seemed to be the perfect warrior, if not for his height—long, thick hair and the beginnings of a beard (it was just a goatee, perhaps shaved for style), wild, fearless eyes and a calm, demure decorum. Well, thinking on that, his only handicap seemed to be his unfortunate size, and contrarily, that probably would've made him quick. He seemed to be a mage of sorts… but I couldn't really tell, besides the wise look to his eye. He wasn't dressed in specific regalia, so he really could've been anything. I followed him at a distance, even though the rest of them were almost literally flanking him. He was the citadel, it looked like… perhaps they were all simply guarding him.
Nevertheless, I had no obligations keeping in step with them. Once they were outside, I felt my adventure had almost begun… but it wasn't until I saw three different varieties of Chocobo perched calmly in waiting for them that I truly thought this could end up being worthwhile. I stood agape next to the doors when I was roughly shoved aside by a Vampire, who jostled me out of my daydream and into the outskirts of reality again. I wasn't quite about to believe everything just yet… but it was all starting to look pretty favorable. With a team like this on my side, how could we lose?
I stood back as the rather small one stepped up to the Red Chocobo, and the Black Mage followed him, kneeling down so that the short man could use him as something of a step up to his mount. I began to notice that this magic-user seemed to be very broad, if not quite so tall. He wasn't the next in line to be considered minute in any way, but the knight and one of the more seasoned soldiers (an Oracle, from the looks of it) could've easily dwarfed him in sheer height alone. Actually, the Oracle seemed not to raise any controversy… he was the largest, by default.
The Knight was next to mount, but he was able to reach the Black Chocobo's back with quite a bit more ease than the small-statured mage. A brunette with his own hair kept at a medium length and unusually luring eyes, in the cloak and heavy armor of a castle guard… it almost seemed a bit peculiar, what with the lad's rather scrawny neck. In fact, I thought that the brutish-looking Wizard should've switched jobs with him—the two were very awkward-looking as what they were training to be.
Really, the only one who looked at all the part was one of the elderly warriors. Though the fine lines on his face gave him dignity and age, his easy build and curling golden-blond hair made him look quite capable of holding his own. He was a Mediator—a class I'd heard little about, but the main highlight was easily the fact that they could invite monsters to join a party…
"So he's the one who lured all these beasts in…" I muttered to myself in awe, freezing dead when the swift, threatening steps of the cloaked wizard drew him in front of me. Once he was close enough, it was easy to see that he towered over me—okay, so I wasn't so tall—and he easily equaled the mass of three of me! I tried to look beneath the hat, but all I could see was a pair of glaring eyes digging past the surface and into my very mind, surely burrowing about for some kind of compensation as I stood there stupidly, poised to run. When he'd finally stopped glowering and a spark in those cold eyes changed him, I could see that they were fawn… a rather delicate color for such a brute.
"Ai lay claims ta' the cat, the bull, an' the beast," he corrected me, that thick Scottish drawl making it difficult for him to say "I". "Th' ol' man got th'dragon, an' the li'le one go' the bird," he further explained, finding it somewhat difficult to pronounce his words if they had consonants in them… well, at least he was pointing at everything so that I knew what he was talking about. "Th'bird made more birds," he ended dryly, pointing to my chest, now. "Ge' i' straight."
I nodded in response to all this, simply obliging him, seeing as he could probably easily snap me in half. As soon as he turned around and stalked away, I felt my clenched muscles relax again, and I let out a breath of relief. He… didn't seem to talk too much, either. He spoke clearly as he could, I guess, but with such a heavy slur, I guess it was embarrassing to speak all that often… so I could understand his silence. Of course, then again, the rest of them seemed pretty cold to me, too… I wondered just what adding me to their team must've meant. The redhead had his mystery around him, but he had seemed friendly enough, if not talkative. The Knight appeared to be stoic and rather noble, despite his unusual frame—but he just seemed to be alien to me, seeing as I didn't really have the gall to speak to him just yet. Frankly, the Oracle frightened me, so I wasn't about to try my luck if there was a Black Mage pushing me around already. That, and he looked about as reticent as they come… climbing atop the back of the dragon, shaded beneath his own robes and having obscured his face with the wrappings that would've normally made his hat, he had that mummy-like anonymity, and I didn't want to chance that he might be hostile. The Mediator? Well, maybe. His electric blue eyes were battle-worn, but he simply looked wise and experienced; weathered with his travels… he didn't look fierce in any way just yet.
So this was my team, was it? I hope they didn't all hate me. I didn't like to be the odd man out, but I suppose I'd have to earn the respect of all these traveled rogues before they'd welcome me as one of their own. The last to mount was the old man in the red robes, atop the final, common-colored Chocobo… the Black Mage turned to look at me again, his eyes still sharp with that foreign sort of reprimand. "We're walkin'," he explained quickly, likely meaning both myself and him as 'we'. Well, if he didn't, and he was going to hitch a ride, then he'd be lying, right? He hadn't seemed the dishonest type—simply… fearsome. Intimidation was quite a favorable tactic for someone so very large… and he was certainly no exception.
I felt myself compelled to tail them, trotting up to the departing team and nervously falling into ranks behind and to the left side of the Mage in his medium blue robes. It had seemed like such an escape at first, but I was having my doubts with the way they were treating me. Maybe I'd have to earn my keep, but I hoped that it wouldn't take long… this silence was killing me.
"Tell me, soldier," the leader's voice began, his smooth tone giving him an affable sort of attitude. As soon as I snapped to attention, he continued. "Now, why do you think you've been chosen over all the other candidates in that place?"
I was a bit taken aback by the question… was I supposed to know? "I-I don't rightly know, sir…"
"Answer th'question," the Scotsman shot back at me, scarcely even turning back as much as a finger to make me certain that it was me he was talking to.
"Please—" the redhead stated backwards, getting a bit of a pouting reaction from his Mage. "When I ask you a question, I'd like at least some kind of an answer. 'I don't know' doesn't get us anywhere in particular, does it?"
I rather liked his much more laid-back tone, but he almost seemed to be a little snide. I mean, surely, he knew more than I did… but the way he was asking me such a simple question with such a wide variable for answer, it was almost insulting. "Well," I began, trying my best to think of something. "Because… I was the most eager to get out of there?"
He laughed a little, but it wasn't any huffing, 'you're-an-idiot'-type laugh. "Not quite," he assured, his voice somewhat hushed.
"What, was it destiny or something like that?" I queried of him next, hoping to possibly get a rise out of one or two of them. Nothing. That was my response.
"Perhaps," the short man answered mysteriously. "But not what I was thinking of."
I shook my head. "I can't say… that's all I can think of."
He seemed to smile a little, walking his Chocobo at an even pace with the large-set Mage. "Well, you've a lot to learn, then. We'll have to start avoiding battles if we can," he thought aloud. "If you can't even explain why you're here, then what makes you so sure you're ready for combat?"
Well, alright, I was a little insulted by that statement. "Sir, I've gone through all the training exercises a million times. I've simulated combat more instances than I can count—I've read every book at least once in every class!"
"Piepe dewn," the Black Mage hissed at me.
"Ahem!" the redhead barked at him again, glaring down at his companion. The Mage simply swept himself more deeply into his cloak, bowing his head and glaring at the ground as he walked. "I can handle this," he assured his rather large cohort. A little grumble escaped him, but I couldn't make it out—maybe it'd been in fluent Scottish, but I couldn't hear it to begin with, so I couldn't rightly tell. "There is nothing in 'classes' and 'simulation' that will prepare you for the real thing," he assured gravely. "Have you ever had to take another man's life?"
I shook my head no.
"It is the single worst job you'll ever have to do," he stated seriously. "To stare a man in the eye as your equal who has fought with honorable valor… and to have to slit his throat, so that he never again will see the blessed light of day." Well, when ya' put it that way… "Not only that, but to think of what life you have taken—to wonder just what this man will be leaving behind to be forcefully rendered to an obligatory afterlife for the remains of eternity. Nothing will ever prepare you for that." His normally laughing eyes looked down on me with something almost akin to pity… perhaps he was right to have to pity me—because with his smooth, well-spoken explanation, he was making me somewhat sick already. Guilt was something I hadn't really expected to feel in the midst of an adventure… conscience not something I'd been wanting to think about. If there were repercussions to a boy; a Squire wanting to become a hero, he had not shielded them from me. And though he'd been a little piquing at first, I could easily understand just why he was holding this over my head. He'd been there and seen it—battle, killing, scrounging for means of compensation in food and coin… likely, he was really trying to warn me.
And truth be told, I still thank him for that.
