CHAPTER SEVEN
Escorting
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SILENCE stretched the already wide space between them. From where the Viera sat in her seat at the Strahl's controls, Fran could sense her captain's reluctance to answer the question hanging over their heads. Balthier had simply shrugged at his crewmember's prompt, and sat back to relax in his comfortable chair – staring out at the world passing beneath them. Spira lay dark and quiet as the night droned on.
For those brief minutes of silence, it was as if the worlds of Ivalice and Spira were one – sharing a common situation and feeling. Glancing over, Fran wondered if Balthier shared her common feeling for that village girl. The Viera understood Balthier's characteristic of wooing women, but the man seemed to have withdrawn into himself and his goals – focusing on traveling Spira and finding the Paradise of Lights, rather than thievery or skirt-chasing.
During the last few months, Fran had forgotten the human qualities that had initially driven her away, and drawn her back again. It was Balthier's outlook on life that fascinated her the most. The Sky Pirate didn't care for the struggle between the two worlds, combat, or for really anyone else. He worked on any turf through his own rules and perspectives of situations. Fran found herself envious of the man's careless, laidback but dedicated attitude.
Shouldn't let it get to me, Fran realized. Still, she couldn't tear her perspective gaze from his collective expression. There was something shining in his eyes – a spark she herself had never lit.
The question hung heavier – thickening the air and stopping Fran from forming the words she wanted to – from Balthier saying the ones she wanted to hear. The dark depths of the ocean passed slowly and steadily beneath them – the waves were always moving, but they were always the same.
I'm the same…coming from one land to another, and still clinging to faltering hope.
Mustering up dormant courage, Fran inquired in a light voice, "Will you attend to the wound properly?"
The Sky Pirate seemed to consider this question for a minute as he turned to her. Balthier appeared thoughtful for a moment, before glancing to his wounded shoulder, saying in a calm, barren tone, "I suppose I should."
As he began to untie the bloodstained gold cloth, Fran hesitated before asking suddenly, "Perhaps some trouble?"
Pushing himself up from his seat and resting his hand on her seat back for leverage, Balthier answered distantly in a mocking tone, "Please, Fran…it's just a scratch."
Turning to gaze over her seat back, the Viera watched the man step through the doors. The soft metal clank of them closing made her sigh before turning her gaze back to the growing, dark landmass in the distance. In Spira lay the reality to Balthier's dreams. As his crewmember and best friend and companion, Fran would ensure that her captain made it through – no matter how in over his head he got.
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After a few hours of restless slumber, Squall awoke with the others before the sun's first rays had peeked through their closed windows. The youth lay quietly amongst his pillows and blankets as his roommates started and groaned. Perhaps if he pretended to be asleep, then Kaye and Jin would let him rest until Quistis would come in and haul him out of bed.
Wouldn't be the first time, Squall noted impassively with half-closed eyes. There was a shuffling from one side as Jin let loose a loud curse, but the quiet youth didn't dare glance over. The longer he lay here, the longer he wasn't wearied by the responsibilities of being a SOLDIER.
Jin and Kaye appeared reluctant as well, since their movements were deliberately slow and sluggish – unbefitting of a SOLDIER. They had barely dressed when their door opened with a sudden snap, and overhead orbs flickered on. Bright light streamed from the ceiling, making Squall squint against their strength.
In the doorway, Quistis stood with a serious look as she surveyed the remainder of her squad. The leader was already dressed in well-pressed and neat clothing – hair put up tightly and glasses up flat against her eyes.
Once straightened, Jin and Kaye – recognizing their leader's stern and demanding presence – saluted to her and remained perfectly still as they waited for her to speak. Quistis' eyes passed over them until they rested and narrowed on the slumped Squall.
Striding past the patiently waiting pair, Trepe paused at the last man's bed. With hands resting palm-down on her hips, she kicked at the bed with her tall, thick boots. When Squall didn't stir or speak, she kicked harder at the soft mattresses. The bed shuddered and one of the blankets slipped halfway to the floor, revealing the strong muscles of Squall's bare chest.
With an arm pressed over his forehead to block the unyielding light, the youth gave a light groan of protest. Stepping closer, Quistis peered down at him disapprovingly, stating firmly, "Your father didn't send you into this program so you could lie around."
Giving a twist of his mouth, Squall hissed back in a low, contempt tone, "My father remains the Fool."
With a roll of her eyes, Quistis noted, "And you remain the stubborn sloth." Smacking his cheek, she added as she moved away, "Come on, up. We've been given new orders by the Grand Maester."
Disgruntlement leaking away, it was replaced by curiosity as Squall sat up and threw his bare legs over the side of the bed. Elbows resting on white thighs, he looked up at his leader with a confused look, inquiring, "What could have happened in the last twelve hours?"
Pausing in the doorway with her hand on the frame, Trepe waited a minute before glancing back at her lifelong companion, replying vaguely, "You'll discover that once you're dressed and out here."
As the door closed behind her, Jin and Kaye stood watching it for a quite minute as Squall rose and dressed. Pulling on his jacket, Squall eyed his roommates, asking, "Did she say anything to either of you before?"
Without a word, Jin opened the door and strode into the hallway. Kaye gazed after him for a moment, before turning to his remaining squad member, and shrugged, saying, "Not a thing."
Kaye followed his departed companion, with Squall bringing up the rear. Stepping into the travel agency's lobby, they found Mais already dressed and standing to one side as she waited. There was an anxiety in her stiff feet as she met her companions' wondering gazes. As Squall emerged however, she quickly looked away.
Not letting this bother him, Squall took his spot in the semi-circle around their leader. Quistis stood surveying them with her arms crossed before her and leaning heavily on one leg.
She waited a tense minute before saying in a prompt, flat tone, "We have been given new, pressing orders. Within the next day or so, we have important individuals arriving at the Luca Harbor." Quistis paused reluctantly a moment before adding, "From Ivalice."
This caused a few surprised looks and mutters. Mais shifted to one side, chewing her bottom lip softly. Jin remained impassive at the news, but there was a slight arch in his eyebrows. Kaye seemed to be taking it a little harder as his limbs shook. There hadn't been important visitors from Ivalice in a decade or so. In fact, it was right after the last encounter that the training and forming of SOLDIER began.
Another minute of this passed before Quistis told them steadily, "All right, calm down…calm down."
Mais asked the question playing on everyone's mind – her tone soft and low; "Who's coming?"
A hesitant moment passed before the answer came back, "An escort guiding young Sir Larsa from Archades."
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The sturdy ship bound steadfast over the rickety waves of World's End. Despite the centuries and proof that the vast ocean didn't lead to the other side of Ivalice, the name remained. The thrill of the expedition and the swift movement of their travel was overwhelming as Larsa stood with hands gripping the railing – wind whipping back his shoulder-length, black hair.
There was still no sign of landmass, but Larsa could feel them drawing closer with every moment. His heart thumped hard against his ribcage, giving him a small sore spot. The youth was too consumed in thoughts of the Other World to give anything else much attention. True, he would have to speak with the Maesters, but their domain rested some distance away from where they were landing.
Plenty of time to look around, the youth noted excitedly. Larsa tried to remind himself of his prestige, but he stood mostly alone on the deck of the ship. The crew was too busy with their tasks.
The only other individual who had come along on the voyage was a mercenary that Vayne had hired to watch over him. Though Larsa was sure that the escort group awaiting him in Spira would do finely, he understood his brother's concern. In truth, Larsa was nervous as well as excited. He had never been to Spira, and knew little of what to expect. What would the Spirans' reactions to his arrival be? Would they disregard him, welcome him? He sincerely hoped the best.
From across the wooden planks of the wide girth of the deck, Cloud raised a watchful gaze to the small form with his back to him. Larsa stood oblivious to Vayne's true intentions for his trip to the Other World. However, it was merely Cloud's mission to infiltrate Spira and follow through with orders.
What other choice do I have?
Vayne had the youth in a bind – he had control over his physical actions. The hidden links on his ankles and around his neck kept him in line. Vayne would send shocking pulses to the devices that would drop Cloud to his knees. He had tried to remove them, but found they had a self-activate shock for the attempt.
Cloud was a free-roaming prisoner. There was only one thing that would change that now…
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After the initial shock of the situation passed, the SOLDIER squad swept their way back down the familiar Mi'ihen Highroad towards the bustling town of Luca. The faint smell of sea-salt stifled their senses and made their heads spin. However, as trained combatants, they remained well conserved.
The tread down the unstable highroad unfazed the troop with their steady footfall and sure steps. There was no encounter with any fiends, and the relaxed, smiling faces of travelers sent a reassuring feeling through them. Squall however, remained impassive with a deep inner grim.
How could they maintain such a cheerful aspect after what took place yesterday? When their lives were constantly threatened? What kept their hopes so high?
Perhaps it is Sin's departure, Squall reminded himself. Even with the fiends preying upon them, the beast is still gone. They can rest easy once again.
The stroll into Luca was a pushy one. Those bustling past through the large city paid the squad little mind. Despite the rumors surrounding Bevelle and the Maesters' intentions, there wasn't too much talk about SOLDIER yet. For this, the group was thankful. They weren't sure how some people would react, and they wanted their first mission to go well.
Quistis strode down the steps into the square with a brisk air of authority around her. Those who gazed into the woman's unfaltering eyes quickly strode away or kept their distance. A fiery passion burned in the leader's pupils that drove needles into others as she expected them closely. Despite that the boat wasn't due to arrive for another hour or so, Quistis searched the citizens carefully. Gramis surely would have granted his youngest son protection from Ivalice.
Jin and Mais stepped faithfully in their leader's shoes – inspecting those with different clothing clearly here to visit. Kaye remained in awe of the city. They had come from the North, and therefore hadn't passed through Luca and its cobblestone streets to reach their destination. Squall brought up the rear in careful silence. His interest didn't lie in the different dressed individuals, or with the city's bustling festivities, or wide-screen displaying various events happening throughout Luca, or with the merchants and dealers yelling out various calls.
Instead, the man's attention focused on his squad and the events lying ahead for them. Why had their squad been chosen for such an important mission? There were better trained SOLDIERs dispatched nearby. Surely, they could have easily made it to Luca without problem, what with the Maesters' countless connections.
Coming to a halt from their slow walk at the road leading down towards the real activity of the city, Quistis turned her scrutinizing gaze towards her trained followers. Jin and Mais – who had been stepping closely behind their leader – bumped into one another as they halted. Kaye remained distracted by the colorful items presented on stands, and the children running around with balloons in their hands. Reporters were interviewing excited people to one side towards the screen that displayed the interviewer's bright expression with light static to the picture.
Squall came to a steady stop a couple feet off – at the bottom of the small staircase. He raised his impassive expression to gaze his leader, but Quistis was looking beyond her crew towards the overhead leading to the Mi'ihen Highroad. After a minute passed in silence, she merely slowly turned around and headed on. As the others fell into line before him, Squall stepped onto the first stair.
A light prickling caused the youth to tense and after a moment, he glanced over his shoulder towards the overhead. Two men strapped in tight, yellow uniforms with goggles over their eyes watched the departing group intensely. Their hands gripped the railing, as they talked to one another in low mutters. Squall's hearing cued in to their conversation over the din of the bazaar, but their words made little sense to him.
Al Bhed, the youth concluded.
Squall hesitated only a moment longer before jogging to catch up and walk hesitantly behind Kaye.
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Coming into Luca harbor was a task much more tedious and troublesome than Larsa expected. The ships drifting in and out of the canal blew their horns in good nature and recognition. A thrill shuddered through Larsa as his own escort ship replied to another larger, passing one. Those on deck waved towards them – shouting out indistinguishable greetings that the sailors returned in enthusiasm – the little prince amongst them.
Cloud remained quiet throughout the steady pull towards the decks, but even he appeared fascinated with the bright colors of Luca's tall buildings, and the number of people gathered on its distant streets. Blimps, balloons, and banners streamed the air as excitement stretched like a plague through the city. Though the sailors had seen Luca many times themselves, they were smiling broadly with shifting, anxious hands and feet hurriedly completing the tasks to draw the ship to a slow halt beside an almost empty harbor.
As the escort ship pulled up and came to a slow pause – horn announcing their arrival – Larsa bended over the side to gaze expectantly down at the stone stretch. Besides a couple of stray people standing to one side consumed in chatter, there were no signs of an escort group. The sailors were pushing a wooden ramp down the open side of the ship when Cloud stepped behind the prince.
Larsa gazed back into the stranger's cold gaze before prompting curiously, "The escort group…where could they—?"
The youth didn't get to finish the sentence before Cloud lifted his gaze towards the curving streets running out if view beneath high, stone ceilings. Larsa followed the man's stare, and his eyes focused on four similarly dressed individuals heading purposely their way. The men and women's bright yellow uniforms illumined them against the cold gray and blue of the city walls.
The sailors were bustling about, gesturing the pair towards the ramp. The captain strode forward, saying with an apologetic look, "We must be on our way. If you could…"
Before he could finish, Cloud was already heading for the wooden rise with Larsa stepping in his shadow. A crisp wind blew past them and lifted the prince's spirit as he paused at the ramp's end, closing his eyes to the close birdcalls and distant festivity. The escort group stood to one side in the distance as they waited patiently.
Cloud came to a slow stop, eyeing the squad suspiciously. Their faces remained impassive, and on their backs strapped wrapped, long objects that made the mercenary hesitant. Larsa appeared oblivious to any threat these people could press. He strode by the stiffened mercenary towards the escort.
In a prompt and polite voice, he stated with indication of pride, "I am Larsa Ferrinas Solidor – fourth son to Gramis Gana Solidor. Emperor to the Archadian throne residing in the Northlands of Ivalice."
One of the men – tall and stocky with a bald head – turned his attention to the other three, stating with a strong accent and gesturing towards the youth, "Fryd fuimt Ivalians pa tuehk eh Spira?" Larsa blinked at the man uncertainly. Ears pricking at the strange language, Cloud strode cautiously towards them.
One of the women rested her chin in her fist, other hand holding her elbow. She appeared impassive for a moment – her eyes hidden like the others by the goggles strapped around her head. In an inquiring voice, she replied in the same tongue, "Banrybc du dymg bayla?"
With a scrutinizing tone, the second man stated firmly, "Ivalians yna hudrehk pid hiecyhlac. Fa syo ica Machina, pid drao dyga vun knyhdat dra bufan uin yhlacdunc pacdufat ibuh dras."
At this, the middle-aged man returned his gaze towards Larsa's draining expression. The youth was beginning to sense the four's own uneasiness about the situation. As he took a cautious step back, he was halted by a hand on his shoulder. Larsa raised a worried expression towards Cloud, but the mercenary remained impassive as he glared silently at the four mysterious individuals.
A hushed discussion led to four agreeing nods of the groups' heads before they turned towards the pair and began circling in. Cloud's stray hand headed slowly for the large buster sword strapped to his back – the tip almost brushing the ground. The balding man – clearly the leader – shouted something incomprehensible, and the woman who had spoken before, darted forward. With one swift motion, she aimed a hard fist beneath the mercenary's ribs – throwing the breath from Cloud's lungs. His sight began to dim and his knees buckled as another hit to his head sent him into nothingness.
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Inspired Music: "On My Way" by Phil Collins