CHAPTER TWO
Inner Urges
-
-
NIGHT spread as a thin veil over Spira as the nation's lights dimmed to a soothing fiery glow. The distant rhythm of doors closing sank into the silence that had overcome the weary, and sullen heads being laid to rest. The small village of Besaid – sitting alone on an island luscious with life, integrity, and dreaming – remained an exception. As the rest of Spira succumbed to slumber, the villagers of Besaid strode from their dome-shaped dwellings into the sweet smells of burning pine and roasting coconuts.
The commotion rising from the village center was too much, and soon the children were on their feet and out the doors. Despite that the occasion was normally an adult celebration, mothers were unable to pull their children back from the joy they shared as well. Peace had settled over Spira once again as Spring's full bloom reached the borders of Besaid Island. The festivities were kept to a minimum during the day for the children's sake, but liquor was broken out at sundown.
The villagers weren't heavy drinkers, but good wine and ale stored for this occasion every year was always welcomed and appreciated. Year long wine reminded them of their difficulties through the harsh winters, and those difficulties were swallowed in a single night.
The excitement lighting the air was contagious. Even the most sullen of elders soon found themselves caught up in the activities, singing, and contests as they attempted to sip delicately at their fine drinks. From the village's perspective, the night would pass without harm – anything said or done would be forgotten and stored away for quiet reminiscence.
A bubbling thrill entered Yuna's soul that night. Having turned seventeen a few months back, she was now seen as an adult in the elders' eyes, and therefore permitted to join the adult festivities. She saw it as a confusing time.
The normal activities and games that the children and young adults shared, running back and forth and yelling joyfully at the top of their lungs – now seemed so trivial and juvenile. Yuna found herself politely rejecting offers of tarts, cookies, and sweetened fruit as her mind wondered to the steaming meal she would share that night amongst the finest pickings of ale and wine.
Striding about the rambunctious and excited village, the young woman couldn't share in the daily festivities without feeling as if she was already reducing her new role. The children saw her in a new light, but the adults continued to eye her skeptically and very few gave her regard. She maintained the same respect she had before as a summoner in training.
None of that matters tonight, Yuna reminded herself as she raised her gaze to the light blue, white-blotched sky beyond the treetops. The sun's rays danced across the few pieces of metal displayed atop homes and the stone temple resting promisingly in the back of the village. There – one day soon – would rest her final trial, and Yuna would be given the solemn oath to protect the people of Spira from becoming monstrous fiends. Few had the talent and inner peace and dedication, to not only survive the trials, but to enact the rituals with prestige. Yuna had devoted the last ten years – since the tragic death of her father – to gaining the experience and wisdom required by Spira and the Maesters to take on such an important role.
I should be more nervous, Yuna realized as she stood there gazing thoughtfully at the temple and its dark doorway. Distantly she could hear the subtle call of the Hymn – a song sung mournfully by the Fayth who lent their power to summoners who sought it. It was both foreboding and reassuring – reminding Yuna of her father's proud role, and of his dreaded fate. However, the world had changed in the last ten years, and her own fate would not match Braska's.
With a small smile that lit the distinguishing rosy hue of her face, the summoner-to-be gave a respectful bow to the Besaid Temple – praying secretly for the Fayth resting within – before turning and deciding on sweeter, more exhilarating thoughts of that night. Yuna never would have expected the course of actions that would ultimately lead to the biggest changes in her life and how she saw it.
-
-
Two neighboring nations with different outlooks on life and choice of routine cannot exist without conflict. With significant change and difference, there comes fear and dread – the fear that one's own lifestyle is somehow influenced, challenged, or endangered by another's.
This same fear and way of due process has resulted in wars, conflicts, prejudice, and discrimination. As a result, the world had ultimately split into two existences – two fields and planes of life and reality that paralleled, but didn't directly coincide. With each their own individual threats and outlooks on life and the limits to it.
Ivalice felt imposed by the accumulating growth of Sky Pirates. As time went on, and Ivalice began to take action to cleanse the world of these outlaws, they began spreading further, and now Spira had come to find itself in a difficult situation.
On the same day as Besaid's Spring celebration – on wrinkled, hobbled feet – the Grand Maester Yo Mika strode briskly down the halls of Bevelle's central building. As he stepped with a spin on his left heel around a corner, two double large doors decorated luxuriously in golden embroidery over the purple stone, came into view.
Beyond them lay the duties his life's sole focus required – the responsibilities of his decisions, the outcomes they would emit, and Spira's perspective of the world and their actions. Without the Maesters to guide them through the will of Yu Yevon, the people of Spira were doomed to be lost in the tempting luxuries Ivalice flaunted.
"Promise Land," Maester Mika spat with a twist of his lips. The words were sores to his mouth. Rubbing his tongue against them only made him that much more aware. However, just like sores, the words would vanish and be forgotten with time.
Even if it has to be done by my own hand, the man thought to himself. He noticed the way his escort was watching him wearily, and at the harsh look Mika gave him, the kid stepped quickly to the door.
Without a word, the youth stood to one side patiently – waiting for his master to pause so he could open them and announce Mika's arrival. However, the Maester didn't pause in his heated, purposeful stride. In mere moments, he had reached the purple-hued stone doors, and was swinging them open with more force imaginable for his size and age.
The muffled chatter from the room ceased immediately as all eyes struck the intruder sharply. However, at the sight of the proud-faced man, the looks were softened, and the well-dressed individuals inside bowed their heads and offered their leader a prayer of apology. Perhaps if his mood hadn't been so sullied with thoughts concerning Ivalice, or the meeting's source of information, Mika would have accepted the apologies gracefully and swept the other Maesters' fears away.
However, there were pressing matters at hand. The Maester continued to give the other three individuals hard glances until at last Maester Kelk Ronso stepped forward with arms bound respectfully behind him. The sure and demeanor air surrounding the colossal creature soothed the Grand Maester's ill temper until Mika was able to look upon the remaining two members with a calm serenity.
The plump, balding man sitting behind the crescent table returned to busily nibbling a steamed piece of meat while plates lay empty and licked-clean before him. The saliva still lingering on the good china shimmered in the soft, overhead torch lights. The hunched Guado – with his long face turned to large, long fingers picking delicately at an embroidered tapestry displayed before him – gave no notion that anything had changed. His relentlessly calm exterior remained a secret fascination to Mika, and the man vowed to someday explore the Guados' history more thoroughly.
Clearing his throat at the inclining sound Kelk gave, Mika raised his gaze into the watchful, unblinking yellow eyes. To stare into a Ronso's soul was like staring into a mask of strength and sure death. A shiver ran through the man until the Grand Maester was at last, forced to gaze towards Jyscal Guado and Wen Kinoc.
Jyscal remained fixated on the tapestry beautifully sewn in delicate and carefully dyed fabrics. The image before him had been made with an artist's perspective of Ivalice. Something inside Mika struck a nerve and whipping out a gnarled hand, he snatched the soft item from the table. With a look of disgust, he surveyed the large towers and obvious use of Machina that roamed the air freely. The sight of it sent another rivet of anger and loathing through the old man, and he threw it back towards the Guado Maester.
There was an almost hurt expression on Jyscal's face that vaguely intrigued the Grand Maester, but it was gone in a moment. Much like the Ronso, the Guado's feelings remained quietly to themselves unless they were enraged. The Ronso however, were much more independent and defensive. It was wise to have both species as Maesters, but there was talk from the people and factions of including races from Ivalice to help strengthen the fragile alliance between the two ends of the world.
Pushing these thoughts to the forefront of his mind, Mika gestured for Kelk to take his seat. The Ronso however, remained respectfully standing without carefully rejecting his superior's offer. The Ronso were a quiet, well-kept race that initially didn't interact with humans or the Guado. Kelk had been raised in Bevelle at a young age as his curiosity about humans drove him from the Ronso's proud Mt. Gagazet. For years, Mika and Kelk had studied side by side until the day they were both raised as Maesters – and Mika, finally to Grand Maester. Ever since the role had been given to him and not Kelk, the Ronso had appeared more distant and cut-off. It was almost as if he had lost his need to be a Maester any longer.
There wasn't time for this drama however, and with stifled, discourteous words lodged in his throat, the Grand Maester stepped forward – forcing Kelk back a step with an air of owed respect.
In a craggy, faltering voice, Mika demanded softly, "What news of Ivalice presses us?"
With an inquiring clearing of his throat, Wen Kinoc drew three pairs of disapproving eyes to him. Of all the Maesters, Kinoc remained the least respected and understood. It was common knowledge that he would soon be replaced – common knowledge to everyone but him it seemed. Until then, Kinoc still had a forceful say in the matters at hand concerning Spira.
In a self-taught, informative tone, the plump man stated blatantly, "Over the past several days, reports of flying Machina have been served." At the silence that followed, the man made an inquiring sound as he refused to speak further.
Lips straining with a hidden scowl of disgust, Mika prompted in a forced, calm voice, "The Al Bhed?"
Turning to the Grand Maester now with a perceptive gaze, Kelk replied with careful softness, "Even the Al Bhed don't hold this technology."
"Ivalice," Jyscal spoke up, voice wavering. His long, shaky fingers brushed the fabric of the hand-woven tapestry before him. Mika's eyes flickered to the ships patrolling the skies around the steep towers, and new thoughts began to form.
Without meeting the gaze of his fellow chairmen, the Grand Maester prompted firmly, "And what of its whereabouts?"
"Unstated," Kinoc replied promptly, shifting his large mass in the furnished, wooden chair. The seat cushion beneath him released a long, stream of air that whined obnoxiously. Kelk offered the plump Maester a disapproving look shining in his eyes, but Kinoc's gaze was fixated on his superior's thoughtful expression. After another minute of silence, he inquired, "Grand Maester?"
As if struck sharply, Mika raised his eyes to focus hard on the man. Despite a deep inner urge, Kinoc remained impassive towards the superior's accusing stare. Gathering himself, the Grand Maester rested his tired limbs into a chair on the other side of the table. With a sigh, he let his legs drop like slain Flan.
Hands folded together in the long sleeves of his ceremonial robe, Mika was silent for a few minutes longer before taking in each Maester individually before finally letting his eyes settle on an invisible spot in the room between the three of them. In a strong, unwavering voice, he commanded firmly, "Find me that ship."
-
-
The steam rising off the small beach hidden by tall, towering cliffs curled into the sky like fingers groping at unreachable darkness. The harsh whirring of engines softened until the propellers of the transport ship had slowed to a stop, and silence filled the twilight. The drifting sounds of crickets and rustling leaves left a tranquility resting over the cove. The cliff mass stretched around a corner out of view to display the delicate ripples of the vast ocean. Early moonlight shone on the water like shed glitter – displaying a light, late-night blue patch against the dark waves.
From where he stood at the sandbar's edge – waves lapping gently against the pointed toes of his knee-high boots – Balthier peered longingly towards the sky. Just minutes on the land, and he already missed the calming feeling of wind rushing past, and the light swaying of the ship as he walked its halls. The Strahl had been perched beside the cliffs to the far side for protection and to remain out of view. Only someone with a ship coming around a sharp corner and into a small passage would sight it.
The light cranking of the ramp dropping to the ground once more didn't disturb the pirate's wandering thoughts. Stepping out, Fran ducked her head to peer at the back of her companion with a light grimace. With long fingers clutching the small craft's side, the Viera felt distant once again from the Sky Pirate. Years of traveling and companionship hadn't changed Balthier's attitude towards her much, and Fran grew to miss his rare, open conversations the longer time went on between them.
In her high-heel sandals, Fran stepped lightly down the ramp. The sand felt soft as her toes sunk repeatedly into the swaying mass. The distinct smell of salt was a calming scent, and reminded the Viera why she had become a Sky Pirate in the first place. As a Sky Pirate, she escaped the confining culture and traditions of her people. For once, Fran had had the world laid out before her, with choices she determined and consequences she could predict and control. Balthier had offered her the world, and that's just what he had given her.
There's still something more, Fran thought with a yielding defiance as her heart fluttered. A soft wind brushed back the wavy ruffles of Balthier's chestnut locks, and Fran felt her curls tickle her high cheekbones. For that moment, it felt like the pair shared the same thoughts.
As the wind died down though, Balthier turned away from the ocean, saying in a light, but unwavering voice, "Come Fran. Time to inspect this small mound of overgrown pride."
At this, the Viera gave a small, genuine smile. The remote sounds of music drifted their way towards them, and smoke curled distantly over the pine and coconut treetops. A village's joyous celebration had attracted their attention as they flew unseen overhead. The people gathered in the small hump of self-made structures appeared primitive. Despite Ivalice's Interference Doctrine, the pair felt drawn to the small village and the festivities.
Curling in his gut, Balthier felt a need to cause some ruckus. It ran deep in Sky Pirates' blood, and remained sheltered until either it exploded or the outlaw was forced to take action. The need of rebellion – to stir a minor ruckus or chaos – had driven them to land the Strahl and take a small ship around the bend to rest in the side cove. There the craft would lay unseen from the shore's view.
Balthier couldn't resist the urge pawing at him like a needy kitten, and now with a knowing smirk, turned to his partner, saying in a devilish tone, "Shall we then?"
-
Inspired Music: "Song of Memory" - Final Fantasy IX OST