The First Grimoire: Final Fantasy Tactics A2
Chapter 10: "Storm Clouds"
"Who's a good chocobo? Kupo! Of course! That's you–Kupo!"
The chocobo chirped happily as the Moogle patted it on the beak. The Moogle floated down onto the ground, replacing her hood back onto her head. She looked up at the five birds tied up outside the pub. It was her job to take care of every single chocobo that gets left outside in Camoa, which can amount to almost a hundred.
Not that she's complaining. Unlike her older brother and her wayward twin, she actually enjoys being with the birds.
Taking out a small feather brush from her pocket and twirling it in her small fingers, she got to work on grooming the majestic avians. She hummed a little ditty to herself as she expertly smoothed out the chocobo's big yellow feathers, picking out small particles of dirt and tiny leaves. Her large ears suddenly picked up something–or rather–nothing. An absence of sound. Turning around, she glanced around to see why the crowd had become so quiet all of a sudden.
Her brush fell out of her hands.
Three people were walking down the street, parting aside the crowd as if they were a gigantic monster. Then again, it wouldn't be too far off to call the man in front a monster. His entire presence appeared to dominate the entire street, a large, powerful looking Revgaji with his clothes and skin stained a striking crimson. It looked as though he just came out of a particularly bloody war. To make his appearance even more terrible, a dark, stormy expression had dominated his entire face. Even the chocobos shuddered slightly.
Without a word, he signaled his two companions to enter the pub. The Hume boy looked similarly dirty like the Revgaji, only with a sickening color of green instead. He was mumbling something while simultaneously reading some sort of strange looking book. Only the Viera that was with them looked relatively normal. With her white robes and white hair, she appeared to greatly contrast with the other two colored demons.
Once the three strange people had disappeared into the pub, time appeared to have began again. The crowds started to move on the streets again, and the usual afternoon noise started to settle in. Even the Moogle flew back down and picked up her grooming brush, albeit slightly unnerved.
"I should tell my brothers about this." She mumbled as she began to brush the chocobo again, "Montblanc might be a little amused."
Meanwhile–inside the pub itself–a certain Bangaa was having the time of his life.
"And that makes twenty five!" Lynd stomped hard on a table, causing several empty mugs to roll off and clatter onto the floor. He thrust his fist forward, pointing at the crowd of people in front of him. "Who else wants to take me on? I still have all that energy, and I haven't even eaten lunch yet!"
The crowd mumbled to each other as they stared below the Bangaa. Like he claimed, there were at least twenty five people underneath the table, all apparently out cold.
The previous, relatively small exhibition duels had escalated into a massive brawl after Lynd suddenly threw himself in to the fray, declaring that he was the strongest out of all of them. The previous fighters had sneered at this new challenger, but were quickly shut up after witnessing the Bangaa's strength first–hand.
Soon, after Lynd had swiftly disposed of the original two duelers, the other fighters standing aside felt their blood heat up and simply dived in. As a result, the previously small exhibition duels had transformed into a massive free–for–all, dominating the entire center of the pub. The black mages in the corner had dashed up the stairs to the safety of their room, the dancing Vieras had ducked behind their makeshift stage in a bid to protect themselves.
Naturally, the newcomers had attempted to take out the first rabble–rouser, Lynd. Unfortunately, they didn't count on his tenacity, and were unexpectedly taken out by the fight–loving Bangaa's bare fists. In less than five minutes, all twenty–five challengers were on the ground, unconscious.
"Brute." Edyal muttered under her breath as she saw another hapless fighter get beaten down onto the ground. She had sat through his entire spectacle, all the while contemplating on freezing the boisterous Bangaa into an ice sculpture. A thump at her table made her turn around.
"'lo." Came a surly greeting from the dirtied Revgaji. He took out his sack of tomato stalks and tossed it on the table. Sitting down, he placed his head within his hands and let out a large depressed sigh. From behind him, Luso and Melanee sidled in and took their seats as well.
"I have been wondering where you all have gone, the afternoon's nearly over." Edyal remarked, "You look like you have just came out of a bloodbath."
Edyal moved her robes away from the dripping red sack on the table, "Is there a reason behind your...reddish color?"
"Tomatoes." He grunted, gesturing at the sack, "'twas just a hunt for tomato stalks."
She glanced at his stony expression, Luso and Melanee's nervousness, and the general heavy atmosphere around them.
"If it is just a hunt, then I wonder why you are so...morose." She pulled open the sack and several tomato stalks rolled out. She caught one and held it up. "It appears as though you completed the hunt objectives...perhaps even excessively so."
"It's nothing." Cid stated flatly. He took out a handkerchief and began to wipe the juice from his blond mustache.
"It does not sound like nothing to me," Edyal replied, dropping the stalks back into the sack, "What happened out there?"
"Nothing at all." Finding that his attempt at cleaning his mustache only stained it even more, Cid stuck his handkerchief back into his pocket and looked away. "This is my usual expression."
Liar. Edyal sighed and held her head with her hand, rubbing her temple. This was probably the first time she had ever seen Cid so depressed.
She raised her hand and pointed at him and spoke in a stern voice, "Cid, what happened out there? Do not wallow in your own self despair, that is not like you at all. You are acting like a little child, perhaps a child even younger than Luso."
"I said–" Cid stood up, his expression turbulent, "–it was nothing."
Edyal did the same, standing up and glaring straight back at him. A tense atmosphere expanded between the two, with Luso and Melanee both fidgeting nervously in their seats, watching the space between them heat up like a small oven.
This standoff seemed to last for hours, despite only being a few minutes. Slowly, Cid began to back off, sliding back into his seat. He held his head in his hand and drooped onto the tabletop. Edyal remained standing.
"Perhaps..." He suddenly said, "Perhaps I have been a little immature..."
He looked up, a weak grin was on his face, "I'm sorry, Luso, Melanee."
He bowed his head in apology at them. Luso quickly stood up and said, "No, it's okay!" and patted him on the back. Melanee simply sighed in relief. She was glad that the repressive air around Cid had disappeared.
"Good to see you are back with us now." Edyal smiled and handed him a mug of water, "It is unsightly to see our leader in such a state."
"Aha..." Cid rubbed the back of his head as he accepted the drink. He downed it in one gulp and faced Edyal again, "I'm sorry."
Edyal shook her head and frowned, "That might be true, but it is also unsightly to have our leader apologize so much." She took her staff and clubbed him lightly on the head, "I am sure you are apologetic enough, so do not apologize anymore."
"You're harsh, Edyal." Cid rubbed his forehead, "But I'm thankful for that."
He waved over a waitress and asked her to refill his mug. She took it away and disappeared behind a curtain.
"Will you tell me what happened now?" Edyal asked for the third time. Cid sighed and turned around, frowning again, but not unwilling to speak.
"Hhaahh...Where do I begin?"
"...My, that sounds very unfortunate." Edyal commented after Cid finished his recap of the day's events. She traced the shape of the alraune drill on the table, "Alraune drills are indeed...valuable. I can understand your depression."
"Aye, and the stalks we earned today won't be worth any sort of recompensation either." Cid muttered, nudging the sack with his finger, "All of it is going to the streetear for his information."
"...I'm sorry..." Melanee apologized quietly. It was her fault that they took on that hunt in the first place.
"Don't blame yourself." Cid shook his head and grinned at her from across the table, "We're a clan. If you have a problem, then we'll all help you get it done. So don't apologize for this. It's done, isn't it?"
"Oh, so that means you got your ingredient in the end, hm?" Edyal asked, glancing over at Melanee interestingly.
"Y–yes!" Melanee quickly dug out the small bottle that held the two spiky pieces of fruit. "This is the cactus fruit that Dr. Ocktor needed for the medicine!"
Edyal took the bottle that Melanee offered her. She gave it a thorough examination and nodded, "You managed to get yourself a nice specimen here." She put it back on the table and slid it back over to Melanee, "I do not know what kind of medicine Dr. Ocktor is trying to make, but I believe it will definitely turn out well now with your assistance."
Melanee blushed and stuck the bottle back inside her robes. Luso gave a small sigh and laid his head against the table. He felt exhausted, in more ways than one. He stared at the odd scene that Lynd had created, and stifled a small laugh. He watched as Lynd effortlessly blocked a sword slash by punching away the flat of the blade.
Suddenly, something clicked inside Luso's head.
"Ah!" He said, pushing himself up from the table, "I almost forgot!"
"What is it?" Melanee asked as she saw him reaching for the sack of stalks.
"I gotta go and bring some of these to the guy who gave me that hunt." He reached inside and took out a handful. He spread them out all over the table and began to count them. "Um...I think he asked for fifteen..."
"You're bringing them to the client?" Cid asked, watching him throw fifteen stalks into his side pocket.
"Yeah, he's that blacksmith down in the lowtown place." Luso replied, making sure his pocket wasn't filled with alraune gunk before tossing the stalks in. "He told me to bring him around fifteen to prove that I actually did do the hunt."
"Ah, proof of the hunt, hm?" Edyal mused, "I do say we have enough proof here for him to believe you."
"Aye, bring as much as you want." Cid said while pushing the sack towards him, "He might give you a reward for them."
"Didn't you say that you needed some for your streetear guy?" Luso said hesitantly.
Cid simply laughed and stuck his hand inside the sack. He withdrew several stalks and placed them on the table.
"I believe this is enough for that glutton."
The blacksmith watched intently as his customer perused his shelves, looking for a new weapon. Her pale, silvery–hair flowed left and right as she danced around the shelves, picking up a knife, a sword, and even contemplating a spear.
After several minutes of consideration, she took a short, squarish knife of the shelf and gave it a few test swings. Nodding approvingly she handed it over to the blacksmith.
"A Zwillblade, eh?" He said, holding the knife up, "Good eye, it's a good weapon for chopping and slicing. Not so much for stabbing though."
"Oh, it's fine." She replied airily, brushing her hair back behind her shoulder, "I had a little problem with chopping earlier today, and I don't really want to have a repeat of it later on."
"Learning from yer mistakes, eh? Good for ye." He chuckled while reaching up the shelf for the Zwillblade's sheath, "I see that ye already have a Khukri. Planning on using both, or are ye gonna sell it? This Zwillblade ain't cheap, ye know."
"Oh no. I don't plan on selling my beloved Khukri." A jingle of coins. The girl took out an extremely bloated gil pouch and waved it in front of the blacksmith with a cat–like smile, "I just so happened to have made...how do I say? A great windfall today."
"Ach." The blacksmith took the gil pouch and tested it's weight. His eyes opened wide in surprise as he opened it, "My lord, there must be thousands and thousands of gil in here!"
He stared back at the smiling girl with an incredulous look, "Ye are one lucky kitten, lady."
The girl giggled and thanked the blacksmith for his compliment. She took the Zwillblade in his hands and hooked it on her belt, opposite to the side that her Khukri was on. Once it was securely fastened, she drew both weapons and swung both of them out, cutting a graceful figure as she fenced with an invisible opponent.
"So what are ye going to use them for?" The blacksmith returned the gil pouch back to her, a considerable amount of gil still remained inside.
"I've had my eye on several marks posted on the hunt board." She pulled out a hunt request and gave it to the blacksmith, "I thought this one looked particularly interesting."
The blacksmith read it over and grinned, "I see, so that's why you chose the Zwillblade." He looked back up and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. "It's pretty late, are ye planning on hunting this beast at night?"
"Of course not." Looking affronted, the girl frowned and crossed her arms, "There wouldn't be any other people going after it at night."
"Ah, looking for a clan for this hunt. I see."
"Something like that." She spun around delicately and strode towards the iron door, "Thank you for your help, Mr. Blacksmith."
The large iron door closed with a loud crash. Feeling satisfied, the Bangaa blacksmith reached up and took down a sword from the top of a shelf. He took out a rag from his apron pocket and was just about to polish it until...
Crash!
The large iron door opened with a loud crash. The blacksmith, surprised, nearly dropped the sword in his hands. He glared at the sudden intruder. A hat–wearing boy with brown hair stood in the doorway, panting and sweating.
"That...that girl..." He panted, scrambling into the building. The door behind him crashed shut.
"Boy, what are ye doing?!" The angry Bangaa roared, "Ye almost made me cut myself with my own swor–!"
The boy suddenly rushed towards and stuck his face in front of the Bangaa's, interrupting his tirade.
"That girl who just came out of your store!" Luso yelled, "Did you know who she was? What did she do? Where did she go?! What's her name?!"
"One at a time, ye impatient boy!" He grabbed the boy by the scruff of his collar and lifted him up. With his other hand, he safely replaced the sword back on the shelf. "So what is it ye are asking about?!"
"That girl with the silver hair who was just in here!" Luso asked breathlessly, struggling to get himself loose from the blacksmith's tough grip, "I just saw her come out of your store! Do you know who she is?"
"That girl...Ye mean Adelle?" The blacksmith dropped Luso on the ground and crossed his arms.
A knowing smile began to spread on his lizard–like face, "What is it that ye need to know about her for? Ye interested in her or something?"
"N–no!" Luso quickly shook his head at the Bangaa's wry smile, his face reddening, "It's not that!"
As if to prove his point, Luso rummaged around inside his side pocket and pulled out the tomato stalks he had packed in earlier.
"Oho?" He took the stalks and scrutinized them. Giving an approving nod, he set them down on the counter and said, "Well, what do ye know? I've underestimated ye, boy."
"I'll be honest, I didn't really expect ye to be able to get one, let alone fifteen!" He laughed and slapped the boy on the back, "Yer a real surprise, aren't ye?"
"Aha..." Luso rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed by the blacksmith's praise. But his subconscious quickly snapped him back to his previous topic, "A–anyway! Do you know anything about that girl in here earlier?"
"Ye mean Adelle."He corrected, "Adelle is a pretty famous game hunter 'round these parts, takes on all the hunts and never disappoints. Did she help you get those stalks then? She did say something about helping people get their hunt do–"
"She's a thief!" Luso seethed, throwing his hands out in front of him theatrically, "She just came in from out of nowhere and stole an alraune drill while we were fighting!"
"Ah...I see." The Bangaa shook his head and grinned, "Yer forgetting a very famous saying about hunts, boy. A very important one."
"What is it?" Luso asked, a little ticked off at the blacksmith's frivolous demeanor.
"'All's free if ye steal. If!...Ye make it out of there alive'." With that, the Bangaa threw his head back and laughed loudly, "Ye got hoodwinked, boy! Better be more careful about who ye choose for yer teammates next time, eh?"
He began to laugh again while Luso could only stare at him, agape. The Bangaa stood back up and slapped Luso on the back consolingly.
"Ach, don't worry boy." He said, "Ye'll have to learn from yer mistakes, eh?"
"..."
"Well, then how about this?" He took out a slip of paper from his pocket, the same one that Adelle had given him earlier, "This is the hunt that Adelle said she was gonna go and take. Why don't ye go and give her yer greetings?"
He handed the paper over to Luso. It read: 'Help! Weapon stolen by an adamantite!'
"It's a simple enough mission, don't ye think?" The blacksmith rested his head on his hand, "This buffoon tried to slay an adamantite by the name of Ugohr, and somehow managed to get his sword stuck inside his shell. Ye should've seen the look on his face when he came in here, asking for another sword."
"What did you say to him?" Luso queried.
"I said many things." He grinned, "But I'll give ye the gist of it."
He raised up his hand to Luso's forehead and flicked his fingers hard. Luso stumbled backwards, rubbing his forehead painfully. The blacksmith snorted and placed his hands on his waist.
"I told him, if he was to get a new weapon here, then he better break his old one first. And from what I've heard from him, that sword is still intact. Albeit inside an adamantite."
"S–so..." Luso stuttered, trying to talk over the pain inside his head, "She's going to go and hunt this...uh...adamantite?"
"Tomorrow morning, most likely. She didn't want to do it tonight."
"So she'll be going to this...uh, Baptiste Hill place and hunting this turtle looking thing?" He tapped the crude sketch of a turtle on the paper.
"Must ye always sound like some sort of newbie to everything." The blacksmith chuckled and threw a few clumps of coal into his furnace. The flames flared up as the black rocks were consumed.
"Yer right though. If yer really gonna go and try to catch her, I'd suggest waking up early tomorrow and heading there. Kill off the hunt before she gets there, ye know."
"...hey, that's not a bad idea!" Luso said enthusiastically, "I better go back and tell everyone, they might be interested too!"
Happily, he rolled up the hunt request and stuck it in his pocket. Thanking the blacksmith, he was just about to turn and leave when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
"Hold on boy, you can't leave before I give you yer reward!" The blacksmith spun Luso around. He took out a sheathed sword from behind his counter and shoved it into Luso's arms.
"Eh? Reward?"
"For the hunt! I did promise ye a reward, didn't I?" The blacksmith answered. He pointed at the hilt of the sword, "Why don't ye unsheathe it and give it a look? Ye won't be disappointed, for sure!"
Luso nodded and unlatched the small hook that secured the sword to the sheath. Drawing it, he was surprised at how long the sword was. It was almost twice the length of his broadsword, which was already pretty long itself. Amazingly though, this sword felt as though it only had half the weight of the broadsword.
Luso gave it a few test swings, and marveled at how much easier it was to handle. In fact, he felt slightly nostalgic as he swung it, as if he had used this sword in the past.
"Of course." The blacksmith replied as the boy relayed his thoughts to him, "That longsword was made from the remains of yer old shortsword. I took the metal and purified it. Grating off that rust and restrengthening it until it was capable of being used in another sword."
"Really? This was made from that sword I had before?" He ran his fingers across the flat of the blade, as if reacquainting himself to an old friend.
"It's yer reward for finishing that hunt for me. Ye can keep that broadsword too, as part of our bargain, eh?"
"Thank you so much, Mr. Blacksmith!" He resheathed the sword and bowed low, his hat slipping off his head and landing onto the floor.
The blacksmith picked it up and glanced at it, then looked back at the boy's clothes.
"Perhaps ye ought to clean yerself before ye go to sleep today." Luso straightened himself and glanced down. His clothes were still glowing with the alraune's greenish blood. "Ye look like some sort of strange creature with all that green on ye."
"Ahahaha..."
He rubbed the back of his neck, only to find that even his neck was sticky as well.
Tossing the sack of tomato stalks in front the Seeq's feet, Cid leaned against a chimney and watched the Seeq reach for it with trembling hands.
"T–this!" He sputtered, drool was flowing out the side of his mouth like a waterfall, "Freshly picked, organically grown...UTTERLY DELICIOUS TOMATO STALKS!"
With that loud exclamation, the rotund Seeq tossed himself on to the bag and began to messily throw the green, leafy stalks into his mouth with wild abandon. Repulsed, Cid averted his eyes and covered his ears so he wouldn't have to see or hear the disgusting sight.
"Grrrpppghh!!" He let out a loud belch as he finished his snacking. Plopping himself down on his rear, his stomach bulged as he loosened his belt to give it more space. "Aaah, that was delicious! Many thanks to you, Master Cid. Burrrrrpgh..."
Cid covered his face with his hand as he shook his head. He mentally made a note to bash his head against a wall repeatedly to eject this memory from his brain. The Seeq disgustingly picked out an obtrusive piece of a stalk out in between his teeth, glanced at it for a second, and licked it up.
"Ribs, enough." Cid urged, his face turning slightly green, "I came for information, not a display of your eating habits."
"Ahh, gotcha, gotcha." The Seeq grinned widely as he picked up the sack and stuck it in his belt. "What is it that you wish to know, Master Cid?"
"...It's about them." Cid said in a low, ominous voice. Instantly, Ribs' previously jovial demeanor gave away to one of seriousness. Walking over to the edge of the rooftop, Ribs glanced warily at the streets below.
In a voice that was no louder than a whisper, the streetear spoke, "...them? Why do you want to know about them?"
"A precaution. You and I both know about the danger I am in for just being here." Cid crossed his arms and his expression hardened, "So tell me everything you know about them since I was gone. Movements, actions, rumors, anything."
"That impossible, Master Cid." Ribs shook his head in reply, "You and I both know how they work. Total, complete secrecy. There would be no way for a streetear–even a great one like me–would be able to garner any facts about them."
"Pity." Cid scratched his head and sighed in disappointment. Ribs turned around and stared at the Revgaji.
"I'm surprised." The Seeq frowned, "I didn't really expect to ever see you again after you disappeared that day. You were left for dead, weren't you?"
"Aye." Cid pulled down the neckline of his shirt, revealing a small, circular wound on his chest. It was just a few inches to the right of where his heart would be, "'twas a lucky day that they did not check if whether or not I was still alive...or not."
Ribs walked forward and examined the wound. It was only a few centimeters large, not even half the size of the Seeq's finger.
"...How did you survive?" Ribs asked in a tense whisper, "A wound like this, even if it didn't hit your heart, is still a fatal wound. You would've died of blood loss or infection."
In response, Cid held his hand out in front of him. A small white glow enveloped the top of his palm. In a few seconds, the glow dissipated and left a small silver card in it's place. It hovered gently atop his palm, displaying a strange, three–pronged symbol.
"A...Judge Card?" Ribs gasped. He gaped at the small card in his hand, "I was joking before...but you really did form a clan?"
"Aye." He flipped the card over. Several lines dotted the back of the card, each apparently supposed to hold the name of a clan member. Despite this, only one name was written down on the card.
"How can you call this a clan..." Ribs frowned at the sight of the empty spaces, "...When you are the only member?"
"They do not need to be involved in my affairs." Cid responded automatically, "I've had them all sign a falsified card. If I am to be caught again, then at least they will not be able to catch them as well."
"But...how did you form a clan at that time?" Ribs questioned earnestly, "I was there! I saw the state that you were in! You were lying on the ground, bleeding and barely breathing!"
Cid closed his fist on the card, making it disappear in a scattering of white sparks. He raised up his clenched fist, staring intently at it.
"I was nearly dead, as you said." He opened his fist again. A single silvery spark lingered in his palm. "At that time...I was furious. I couldn't do anything, and was dispatched with one shot. I was cursing my ineptitude as I lied there, unable to do a thing...unable to even escape with my life intact."
"But...as I opened my eyes for what I thought to be the last time...I saw something. A pair of silver grieves, a large...circular sword."
Instantly, the image of a judge appeared inside the Seeq's mind. A golem made from the most powerful and ancient of magicks. Created to uphold the law and oversee all engagements in the land of Jylland. Clad in indefatigable silver armor and armed with the great Sword of Judgement, a judge is that truly rules the land.
"That judge kneeled down in front of my dying body and gave me a choice." Cid gazed up at the night sky as he repeated the judge's words, "'Do you wish to continue living? Or do you wish to forget your suffering? Will you swear an oath and lead a clan? Or will you die here like a ill–begotten dog? Will you form an oath with me or will you allow yourself to rot?'"
"So you agreed to the judge's oath?" Ribs goggled at the Revgaji's tale, "And formed a clan...just to survive?"
"Being in a clan means...partial immortality." Cid explained with difficulty, gripping the part of his shirt where the wound lied beneath, "You cannot be killed...but that is as far as it goes."
"I know that much..." Ribs rubbed his temple, "But...what will you do now? You're in the same boat as I am–no, you're in a worse state. You're not just a freelancing informant like me, you're a deserter–a traitor!"
Ribs grabbed onto Cid's arm with his hands, giving him a look of honest concern, "If you are found out to be alive, they will hunt you down like wolves to a hare! You know what they do to traitors and people that know about them!"
"I know." He shook off the Seeq's arm and turned towards the path down the roof, "I am aware of the danger. The protection of the judge means nothing to them...they might even prefer it that way."
He materialized the card again and gave it a long stare. His lonely name glowed in the dim light of the moon.
"But that means nothing to me. There is something I must do. I have been given a second chance, and I do not mean to waste it."
He turned back around and looked at his old friend. In his face...no, behind his expression lied a large fire. A fire of determination, a burning desire for revenge. Ribs knew this expression, as well as the reason behind it.
"...It's all for Rancorius, am I right?"
A/N: I have officially reached a new low when it came to having technical difficulties with writing. Pressing the goddamn "Discard" button by accident while saving. Oh god, I have never felt so bad before in my entire life. About 60% of the chapter had to be rewritten, gutting nearly half of the original ideas I had for it. Argh, so much headaches and frustration. Just thinking about it now makes a cloud of depression wash over me. Argh.
Character Notes:
Name: Melanee Solus
Age: 17
Job: White Mage
Race: Viera/Hume
Personality: Shy, unobtrusive. Almost polite to a fault.
Notable Skills: Has had received advanced white mage training from Dr. Ocktor.
Posessions: A red, carrot shaped pendant from her older sister. A bottle containing two pieces of Cactus Fruit.
Equipment:
-White Staff
-Nothing
-White Robe
-Red Necklace
-Nothing
Trivia: Notably, most Viera names in Ivalice only uses 4 letters. Melanee is exempt from this rule due to her unique situation, being the daughter of a Hume and a Viera. Her sister on the other hand, is a full-blooded Viera, and had left Targ Wood many years before Melanee did. Melanee's father raised her until he died of mysterious causes, and she was subsequently adopted by Dr. Ocktor, who trained her in the white arts at her behest.