Rostairmar d'Lecanti walked confidently through the busy streets of Southern San d'Oria on a late summer's afternoon heading home after finishing his daily duties serving the proud kingdom's military forces. The heavy sun slowly sinking in the sky made his silver armour gleam and a slight breeze swept his dark brown hair to one side. He paused as he turned a corner and readjusted the scabbard attached by a leather strap to the side of his belt and then took in the view.
The southern district of the city always seemed to be the liveliest, largely due to the numerous market stalls, the auction house, and tanner's guild all being in such close proximity to one another. Even though it was close to sun down the streets were as packed as they were in the morning as he travelled on his way to begin work.
Children uninterested by the fruits and garbs on sale soared past him in a hurry, drawn to some lively commotion up ahead. A crowd had gathered by some tents on the grassy forecourt of the portcullis to the northern district of the city. It seemed the travelling circus was once more gracing their fine city with annoying noise and dull tricks. He paused as he reached the tents and stood silently behind a group of children and Hume adults. He was considered tall even by other Elvaan so seeing what was going on was simple enough.
There was a particularly fat Tarutaru Bard blowing away on some tiny wind instrument that created a noise so vile that it made his sensitive ears twitch. He loathed such trivial music, the playful tunes meant for children – yet to his bewilderment the adults in the circle around the tents all seemed as equally entranced. He preferred the master works of an orchestra that did not so much play a tune as create it a piece of song through intricate melodies and well planned harmonies.
As usual, the Bard was simply there to cause noise to grab attention and once captured the other performers began their acts. A mammoth sized Galka held two wooden polls high in the air that glistened from their tops which were ablaze. He would lower one and spit at it causing a wave of fire to whoosh into the air before repeating it with the other flaming pole. There was a Mithra who seemed intent on spinning four large knives around in the air until the inevitable happens and ends in some part of her body being stabbed.
Then there was the member of the circus he detested the most, an Elvaan mime. It disturbed him to see an Elvaan make such a spectacle of themselves purely for the entertainment of a crowd comprised mostly of foreigners or children. She would freeze and pretend to be a statue until a child ventured close enough then she would leap at them to scare them senseless. Then the crowd would laugh and so would the other children.
"What rubbish," he muttered to himself and continued to walk home.
He walked around the grassy squares that the circus and some stalls had claimed and took the main ramp in the centre directly opposite the auction house which led to the portcullis into Northern San d'Oria.
Upon seeing him, one of the Royal Knights on watch at the gates stopped him and saluted. The Royal Knights were one half of the San d'Orian military, they mainly handled general security of the city as well as squashing Beastmen uprisings and patrolling their controlled regions as well as many other general tasks. A specialised unit of the Royal Knights to which he was a proud member were the Royal Guard responsible for the safety of the royal family.
The other half were the Temple Knights, charged with the protection of Chateau d'Oraguille and maintaining civil harmony. The Royal Knights and Royal Guard were under direct control by the royals, but the Temple Knights were largely influenced by the Papsque Muchavatte of the church.
"Sir," the gate guard said (anyone in the Royal Guard was considered a superior by the Royal Knights), "Are you on your way home now?"
"Yes," Rost replied. "Is there something amiss?"
"No, Sir. It is just that I believe an old friend of yours was looking for you. They were not sure where you lived and asked us to direct them. I hope it was alright, but I gave him the directions to your home thinking you had already finished your shift for today."
Rost thought for a moment before replying, "An old friend? Who were they? Did they say their name?"
"I'm sorry they did not tell me their name. However, he was a short Hume dressed in black."
Could it be Alain? He thought to himself. Why would he seek me out? Surely it is not to try to settle our differences after the war…
Thanking the Royal Knight, Rost ventured into Northern San d'Oria eager to see if it really was his old comrade and hoped that if it was that he would still be somewhere in the district.
Despite having their differences, he, Alain, and their four other companions all fought side-by-side for the good of the allied nations to kill the Shadowlord. They had a difference of opinion on a great many subjects they had, on one occasion prior to the final assault on Castle Zvahl, come to blows. Even though Alain was just a Hume he fought with the strength of a Galka and Rost knew after that day not to underestimate an opponent purely because of their size. The irritating Tarutaru of their group was also enough proof of that fact.
Although he was eager to get home he took a round about way through the main fountain square and past the glorious church and chateau just in case he found Alain sitting at any of the benches littered around the central square. He asked a few more Royal Knights he met on his way if they had seen the Hume, but none of them had.
After a further fifteen minutes of searching he chose to give up. If it was something serious then Alain would no doubt call at his home again or reach him through his superiors in the Royal Guard.
His home was quite secluded despite being in the west residential area of the district, but this was largely due to its size. He had been given an expensive home due to his courage during the war. It sat only two stories high, but was very wide with three big steps leading to a set of double doors covered by a white marble arch.
Inside, darkness greeted him. He lived alone and did not care for a Moogle servant when he spent so long away anyway. There were no pictures on any of the walls, no pieces of art or expensive furniture, such things seemed meaningless to him. A set of candles sat in the centre of a small table across from the door that he would always light when he returned so late in the day after a long shift.
From the second the door closed he was aware that something was not right. Nevertheless he silently walked four steps forwards towards the table. As he stretched out with his left hand to lift the candle his other slowly slid over the hilt of his weapon. He counted silently in his head, the steps of the intruder, until they reached him.
At the count of three he twisted around and dropped his left hand down over the hilt of his Great Katana, thrusting it out from the scabbard held tightly by his right in a horizontal line in front of him. The startled intruder managed to avoid the attack by leaping backwards.
"You cannot sneak up on a Samurai, my third eye saw through your attack. I am Rostairmar d'Lecanti. Who are you and why did you break into my home?"
The figure shrouded in darkness was silent. It was a Hume, probably male, and most definitely was not Alain. He wore black fabrics the like of which he had never seen. They were covered with silver lines which spread along his arms and legs. His face was largely concealed by a huge hood, save for a pale chin and mouth. Slowly, the intruder raised his right hand out at his side and from the hanging end of the cloth concealing his hands appeared the silver blade of a scimitar.
No sooner had the hilt of the scimitar appeared, the intruder leapt forwards and met with Rost in a flurry of strikes and clashes. While sweeping under a slash and cutting upwards, Rost watched the astonishingly fast movements of his opponent as he dodged his attack and then twisted one hundred and eighty degrees and landed a foot directly into his stomach. He was thrust backwards by the force of the melee attack as his plate mail was battered in and flew straight into the table in the centre of the room, which broke under his weight as he fell backwards over it.
He barely had time to stand to his feet as a second exchange of lightning fast attacks was dealt. He saw an opening and boar down on his opponent as hard as he could, but was shocked as the intruder effortlessly side stepped in time for it to miss and smash into the wooden floor below. Rost's third eye saw the scimitar being swung back ready to be brought down on his exposed neck.
"Zanshin," he uttered.
With a sudden burst of speed he pulled his body sideways and dropped to one knee after spinning around using the momentum gained to slash into the side of the intruder, who was able to just barely raise his scimitar in defence. Nevertheless, the strength of the blow was enough to knock the figure across the room and he eventually skidded to the halt at the base of cabinet on the far wall the creaked uneasily as he hit it.
The intruder got up almost immediately, seemingly unhurt by the blow. His reflexes were far superior to Rost's own despite his Samurai training as well and he could tell he was facing someone who was a master of melee combat techniques. The swordplay used against him was swift, concise, and on the mark every time. It seemed deliberately opposite to his more powerful yet slower and inaccurate slashes.
"I see you are not someone to be underestimated," Rost said. "I will give you one last chance to answer; why have you attacked me this day?"
There was no answer from his opponent.
"…You leave me no choice. Meikyo Shisui!"
Alain had never been comfortable on airships at the best of times, so the prospect of spending a lot of time on one and even sleeping on one made his stomach do summersaults. Those facts had never really hit him until they were in the air. There was something about flying that always made him a little worried. Maybe it was because he knew how distracted Cid could get when an idea came to him and he silently did not trust the old Hume's inventions. Despite that, the airship was a piece of brilliance regardless of his worries and he knew it.
The somewhat soothing hum of the crystal engine resonated through the wooden walls from somewhere below and creaks and cracks came from up above his room whenever the propellers were repositioned to catch the wind and change their course. The propellers seemed far more responsive and strong than on the public transport airships and also had the ability to be folded away while on the water or to better fit in smaller ports.
His room was tiny, but adequate. There was only really a bed, a side table, a chair, and some drawers for equipment and clothes. All the rooms seemed of equal size and design (of which there were eight in total). To Nokum-Akkum it probably seemed quite big, but he could only guess how infuriatingly small Rost or Gerdinus would find it.
Two of the eight rooms on board the airship were for the two crew members that would maintain and fly the Highwind for them. They were both Hume males. One seemed no older than seventeen and the other had to be about thirty. They looked alike, so they might have been related, but Alain had not spoken to either for long enough to find out if they really were related. The younger of the two was the pilot whereas the elder seemed to specialize in maintaining the crystal engine.
A knock at his door startled him. Sitting up from his bed he asked who was there.
"I was hopping you were still awake," Catherine's voice said from the other side of the door. "Could you come up on deck to speak with me?"
He had been lying awake for sometime on top of his bed still fully clothed in the same wears as earlier in the day, unable to get to sleep as so many active thoughts bounced around his subconscious. He accepted and heard the floor boards outside his room creak as she ventured down the hall and up the short staircase that opened up onto the small upper deck.
She waited at the edge of the deck leaning on the bronze railings along the left side looking out at the scenery passing by below. At some point he must have lost track of time, as it was quite late on in the evening. A pale green moon hung high in the sky and all traces of the sun were gone for the day. He joined his friend at the railings, but did not lean on them out of fear they would collapse or something equally ludicrous.
"What did you want to speak to me about?" he asked at last.
"You never settled things with Rost, did you?"
He was silent.
"What happened between you two during those early missions in the war was just a… misunderstanding. Surely you do realize that now with the benefit of hindsight?" she asked somewhat rhetorically.
There was friction between Rost and him from the moment they met. The Samurai had an attitude all too common amongst Elvaan, a high and mighty one. Their natural height helped facilitate their desire to look down upon everything. They had many arguments, about lots of stupid things. They argued about strategy, about the republic and the kingdom, and about who had more skill in battle.
The competitive streak between them was the worst thing and despite being paired together as an allied unit they still tried to out do each other. Just as Catherine said, with hindsight he saw how stupid they had been, but they were younger then and knew no better. Before being paired up he had never spent enough time around Elvaan to see how they treated other races and that was what annoyed him so much to begin with. From there it just grew.
After a dawn raid on a large number of Demons that had pushed their way through an area of the Northlands their largest argument erupted. They found themselves separated from the others and lost in the snowy mountains. It ended in both them fighting with one another. He still had scars from the fight, a vertical slash up his chest and a horizontal cut on one of his legs. Rost did not walk away from the fight uninjured either and also received a few permanent scars. Catherine had been the one who discovered them fighting and was the one who stopped them using her powerful magic.
"I know I was stupid back then to let his attitude get to me so much, but to this day it still makes me angry. I should have been expelled from the forces for brawling with an allied soldier…and I would have been if you had reported us both. Things were better after that; we just kept out of each others way."
"But can you truly cooperate with each other if you still dislike him?"
Alain smiled hopelessly, "Well we defeated the Shadowlord despite our inability to cooperate, so I guess so. Would he save me if he had the opportunity? I don't know. Would I save him in the opposite situation? …I don't know."
She sighed, "Oh, Alain…"
From below deck there was the shrill exasperated call of a Tarutaru. Their short friend seemed to be running around the middle floor searching the rooms to find one of them. Nokum-Akkum eventually appeared at the top of the stairs onto the main deck out of breath and with his hands on his hips. He then pointed at them both and glared.
"Whataru were you doing up here alone with my Cathy?"
He joined them and to his annoyance found that the side of the airship and the railings guarding the edge were far too tall for him to get hold of. He grumbled to himself as he managed to leap up onto the banister and balance on it careful until he could sit down and dangle his legs over the side.
"We were just speaking about Rost," Catherine explained.
Nokum-Akkum growled, "I'm notaru looking-wooking forward to seeing him again! He underestimates us powerful Tarutaru! He always used to call me shortaru as well!"
"You are shortaru," Alain said, mimicking his friend.
The Tarutaru turned slowly with narrowed eyes and glared at him like he was about to leap forward and attack. Catherine's smooth hand placed on the centre of his head ruffling his hair quickly soothed him though, as he instantly forgot what he was annoyed at.
"Pay no attention to him," she told Nokum-Akkum. "For a Tarutaru, you are quite tall."
They stood in silence for a while watching the land below. There were many lush green fields and hills passing by, probably meaning they were well on their way to San d'Oria's region in the west of the continent. Because they were avoiding the flight path of airships going from and to San d'Oria, they were taking a roundabout route across La Theine Plateau and then they would turn sharply and come down somewhere west of the city.
Finding someplace safe, secluded, and secret to land had been discussed earlier in the day. They could easily get into the region via teleportation magic, but the problem would remain on where and how to return to the Highwind after finding Rost. The crew had suggested that eventually they might be able to activate warp and teleport magic to return to the airship due to a special crystal common place within cities being installed inside. How Cid had managed to acquire such a powerful crystal usually controlled by Jeuno officials would forever remain a mystery.
They had not 'worked out all the bugs' as of yet regarding its integration into the crystal engine however, but promised to try and finish as soon as possible. They had already provided Catherine with a scroll containing the incantations to teleport to the particular inbuilt crystal once it was operational and he would not be surprised if she had already mastered it.
Orcish Beastmen ran rampant in the regions around San d'Oria despite their best attempts at controlling the numbers, so if they were to land near any of the fiend's camps they would no doubt be attacked. The airship had been specially fitted so a landing on solid ground was possible, but ideally they required water. The landing site was eventually decided to be on the far side of the small rocky region in the west of the plateau far beyond the crag and the caverns of Ordelle to avoid being seen by travellers, hunters, or adventurers.
Nokum-Akkum let out a loud yawn as his mouth stretched wide open. Rubbing a hand across his eyes, he complained about being tired and hoped down from the railing and descended below deck. Catherine smiled and bid him a goodnight before following.
He stayed up on deck alone for a little while to take in the view and try to quell his fears of spending so much time on an airship. He was not an engineer and knew nothing about their construction, but the prototype they found themselves using just seemed to fly smoother than the old public ones, though that could just be down to having a good pilot.
Deciding that it was a good time to get to know the crew better, he left the upper deck and descended the stairs. He immediately turned at the base of the last step and walked down a short hall that opened into the flight deck.
This room was one of the larger in the Highwind with two steps going around from either side down into a lower area with control panels lining the walls with all manner of buttons, levers, gauges, and read outs flashing away. Further along still the room dropped down slightly where the younger crew member stood with the wheel of the ship in his hands controlling the direction they were headed. Next to him was a tilted metal funnel that ran down through the floor all the way to the engine room at the back of the ship and acted as a method of communication between sections.
The pilot was a little startled to see him, but welcomed him to come and have a look about. He silently attempted to work out what any of the buttons appeared to do, but was completely lost.
Eventually, he walked over to the pilot and looked out through the glass windows in front of him that allowed him to get a visual of where they were headed. On his left was a large compass bolted tightly onto a wooden strut that showed they were currently going northwest.
"We won't reach the landing site until morning," the young pilot stated. "It'd been so much easier if we didn't have to avoid the public flight paths, but I know we can't do that. You should probably get some sleep."
"What about you?" he replied.
"Dad and I are taking turns flying. This is my shift until…oh, about four tomorrow morning I think. I'll be catching up on sleep while you visit San d'Oria, Pops will work on that teleportation crystal while you are out as well."
Alain's guess at them being related had been correct; they were father and son. He was a little disturbed at that fact due to the apparent dangers they would face once they ventured into the Northlands. His feelings of unnatural guilt came back and he wished he had ignored Cid and found some alternative than take untrained civilians with them.
"I'm sorry, but I never even asked your name…" Alain said.
"Oh, I'm Samuel. My father's name is…well, he just gets everyone to call him Pop."
He nodded.
"I'm Alain, pleased to meet you. If you don't mind me asking, why did you and your father decide to be the ones to come along with us? Are you aware how dangerous this might become?"
The young pilot thought for a moment before answering, almost like he was thinking up some way to dance around the subject. He did eventually answer though, but Alain got the impression he was still deliberately holding something back. What that was he could not say.
"Chief Engineer Cid asked a few select people whether we were willing to do this. My father was one of the people he asked and he immediately agreed to it. I wanted to help for the same reasons as my Pops, so I came along as well. My father became an assistant to the Chief Engineer during a project to expand on the efficiency of the crystal engine from what I hear…he never really told me much about it though. Jeuno would have us arrested if they ever found out about that, so I guess its natural we'd come do this. We're both very familiar with airships so don't worry; we'll take good care of the Highwind."
It's your safety not the airships that I'm more worried about, he silently replied.
He could think of no more to say to Samuel without making it obvious he believed that information was being withheld, so he bid him goodnight. On his way out the door he remembered something that would be helpful and came back just long enough to hand the pilot a pearl created from his shell so that while they were off the airship they would be able to keep in contact.
That night he dreamed of Xarcabard and of a foreboding darkness spreading from the throne room of Castle Zvahl. It flowed like water, but was as black as night, and it enveloped the land around it. From the blackness spawned huge fiends that took to the skies and further spread the darkness through the air. A deep murmuring came from the throne rooms gigantic chamber doors and he imagined that he stood before them completely enveloped in the darkness.
There was a voice coming from within and all of a sudden the entire castle seemed to shack as if it were about to collapse. There was a clash of thunder followed by another quake and he believed he heard the sounds of battle. There was a roar followed by a violent collapse.
A monstrous growl screamed out, "Cornelia!"
In an instant everything fell silent again before a single light female voice whispered something from inside that he was somehow able to hear.
"…Raogrimm…"
