The calling of coyotes broke through the still air, alerting all that there was another fresh meal to be found. It was nighttime in Zeklaus Desert, and all but the scavengers had turned in for the night, wary of the terrors that had been stalking about. The moon was a mere sliver in the sky, hiding behind a small mass of clouds that had clustered up. As if it, too, had been frightened by the fierce melee that had taken place such a short time ago.
Floating through the meandering currents, the thorn of a slain skeleton's Knife Hand sailed down towards the rocky alcove that served as camp for the night. It flipped in the air for a spell before falling alongside the campfire, resting among the ashes and silt that was spreading around the conflagration. A boy's hand was now plucking the needle-like object, cradling it between finger and thumb like it was a broach of the nobles. But rather than placing it on the prettiest woman nearby, he instead snapped the spire in a careless motion, letting the two halves flip off onto the ground to conceal themselves in a blanket of white.
Ramza's face had lost its usual calm countenance, and was raked with the brewings of mental frustration. Though he made no excessive verbal or physical indication of this, his eyes were twinkling with new memories and experience he didn't know how to deal with. The wound he bore on his arm had already been treated by Alma, forming into a simple white scar that was nearly lost on the rest of his skin. But he continued to stroke it and stroke it, as if the battle-mark was hurting for some other reason...perhaps because of its healer.
The boy put his hand to his chin, gripping the perfectly shaven stub like a much belabored Limberry philosopher. Everything he had known on why Alma should be kept away from battles was correct, from her lack of fighting experience to her weaker physical makeup. And also, she was his sister, the one Father entrusted him to always protect. Doing everything he could to divert her course into the horrors of war was something that had to be done.
Yet, in spite of all his reason, Alma had come running into the fray anyway, as brave as he had been when he left the Magic City as a cadet. And she had essentially won the battle for them, buying them just the right moment for a counter offensive. Ramza knew even now that it had only been Alma that had kept the Wizard's flame from his tender throat. It was just how he had been saved by Delita countless times in the war against the Death Corps, and he knew very few people like Delita.
But Alma had come through for me anyway, even when I didn't wish it. Ramza moved his hand from his chin to his head, rubbing his temple in the first movement of frustration he had shown since that fight. What does this mean?
A moment more had passed, and Ramza soon heard Alma's distinct footfalls arising from the slope behind the rocks. He tilted his head slightly towards the sound, catching the girl popping up just beyond the largest stone. She truly looked no worse for wear, somehow managing to avoid the brunt of the previous battle. With her eyes twinkling in the firelight and her hair reflecting the subtle moonglow, his sister resembled the very angels Ramza had been accused of slaying.
Alma must've caught the boy staring, for she stopped and turned to look at him. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting your thoughts?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
Ramza gave a brief negative, his eyes darting away from the young woman for a moment. They soon returned back to Alma. "You can sit down, if you want," he said, motioning to the stool-like stones that dotted the area around the campsite.
Alma smiled and nodded, proceeding over to the long rock he himself was resting on. Smoothing her skirt under her rear, she lowered herself upon the granite slab, adjusting her posture a bit as to be more comfortable in her seat. She exhaled a small breath, a small puff of condensed air escaping into the chilly breeze. The desert nightlife is a cold and lonely time, after all, and it was wrong to believe otherwise.
Ramza looked away for a moment, not knowing how to start speaking. He wasn't sure of exactly what he wanted to say to begin with. A minute or so passed, and Alma was shaking with the nighttime shivers. This finally shook the boy out of his stupor, and decided to just come out with it before they both froze to death.
"Alma, what you did today was very dangerous," Ramza begun, already sensing a note of indignation from his sister. "...and I want to thank you." This got a small reaction from the Cleric, who leaned slightly away from him in surprise. "Without your help, our party would have surely met its end." He sighed, rolling his eyes away from her to look back at the campfire. "It's quite confusing, to say the least."
He intended for his speech to end up as some sort of lecture, about how Alma shouldn't get in the way of battle and such and such. In actuality, Ramza realized that he truly wanted to hear his sister's side of the argument, what she thought about all this. It probably wouldn't change how he felt, but he felt she deserved her chance to explain why she wanted to get involved in the Lion War. The conversation had been brewing up ever since the battle with Zalmo, and it had to be seen through.
Alma, too, had picked up the subtle cues in the conversation, and was quite accommodating to Ramza's unspoken request. "Why not let the last battle be a sign of my worth?" she started up, her face becoming a mask of business and earnestness. "Just let me become a part of your group for good."
A grim grimace forming onto Ramza's jaw, his teeth gritting behind his tight lips. "You can't possibly know what it's like out there," he stated, a trail of sadness entering his voice. "There's death and blood, rapes and murders. It's not a fun crusade, it's the prevention of a nightmare." He stared distantly beyond the raging fire, at the twinkling stars that made up the desert's most famous constellations. "It's a path I take willingly, but not something I can ever recommend to family."
Alma lowered her head, a certain sadness taking over her form. "I know about the sadness of battle," she said, her tone mournful and reverent. "One of the girls at school had been assaulted by the Death Corps, giving up her virginity because of it." Her gaze hardened up once again, and she swept her head up to practically glare at the boy. "But that doesn't mean that I don't want to serve Ivalice in the best way I know how. There's much evil being done in my country, and I want to do my part to see that it stops as soon as possible."
Ramza shook his head weakly, the strong words of the girl damaging his resolve. "You don't understand..."
"No brother, 'you' don't understand!" Alma interrupted, a certain desperate ire evident within her tone. "All my life I've had to stay at that stupid school, studying calligraphy while my brother risked his life. I heard the tales of what you were accomplishing out there, knew it was dangerous but so important to the future of Ivalice. That's why I want to be my your side, to help my loved one slay his demons to fulfill his quest."
"Alma, I have to protect you!" Ramza exclaimed, whirling away from the desert sights back to his sister.
"And I have to protect you too!" Alma shot back, leaning forward to look him in his face.
The impassioned cries of the siblings skipped away as echoes, and a cold breeze blew mysteriously through the rustling campfire. Ramza and Alma were suddenly silent, the raw emotion between them too heavy to handle. Alma was now looking slightly away from her brother, a look of worry and trepidation evident on her face. The Squire, on the other hand, stared straight at the girl, reading over the posture, trying to figure it out the source of all this strife.
That's when the truth hit Ramza like a Chocobo gone wild. Alma wasn't being petulant; she was just like him, trying to protect both the world and the one closest to her the best way she knew how: by battle. He had no way of stopping her if this is what the she really wanted to do with her life. She was already so wise beyond her years, a true scholar in the shell of a lass' body and breath.
That's why she needed to hear the truth from him, so she could have the full picture of what he was thinking.
"But Alma," Ramza said, looking away from the girl. "You already protect me."
"W-what?" Alma responded, blinking curiously at him.
"The terrors of battle, the death of comrades," he begun, turning back towards Alma with a face born of sincerity. "I'd never be able to handle them if I didn't know the one I loved was there waiting to reap the new dawn." His eyes shone with feeling and emotion, as he let the beautiful truth flow from his soul. "You are everything that I fight for, everything I wish for the new generation to be. I never want to lose you Alma."
"Oh...!" Alma's own eves were quivering now, and she slowly wrapped her arms around her brother. "Oh, but you know I feel the same way, Ramza." she said, her hands brushing at his hair in a motion much reminiscent of their mother to Balbanes.
Ramza's own arm has secured the girl's shoulder, and was pulling her unto his chest. "Alma, I meant what I said about you going back to Zalbag," he said seriously. "If you truly want to join me in this sad situation, you'll attend Gariland Magic City's cadet school and learn all about the realities of battle." His form stiffen up for the moment, taking the role of a commander. "They'll help you find your place in the units, whether it be warrior or something more defensive. I won't have an unskilled cadet in my army."
"Brother Ramza..." she whispered.
"You always been able to make your own decisions, Alma," he admitted wholeheartedly, gripping the soft skin of her shoulder through her cloths. "If you cannot be swayed from the warrior's path, then I want you by my side where I can protect you."
"As do I," Alma said, beaming brilliantly with trust and love.
Ramza felt his entire body prickle with his sister's shining smile, and could not help but to smile back at her. With her soft features and winsome personality, she was more holy than any of the twisted angels and priests he had fought what seemed so long ago. She was a strength and weakness that, deep within his heart, he felt like he couldn't function without. What had he been missing when he had left her at Igros a lifetime ago?
That was when everything started to funnel down into a tight, almost frightening path. Alma's face was still so close to his, and the rising heat of her body was warm on his arm and chest. Perhaps it was the new closeness they were sharing, or maybe it was just Mustadio's inane comments, but Ramza found himself pulling the girl closer to him. As the girl's eyes sparkled with emotion that was doubtless symphonic with his, he brought his sister up against him and let his lips travel to hers.
The young man hadn't been two seconds into the kiss when he had felt a wave of panic envelop him as he took something from her he was told was never meant for him. But Alma's body remained snug against him, her chest exuding the increasing tempo of her heart's tempestuous beating. And she was now kissing him back, her soft lips caressing his own like they were some form of honeysuckle. So Ramza could do nothing more than continue to kiss her, his hand slowly squeezing her shoulder with the care of a husband to wife.
When at last he found the will to pull himself away, he found that Alma's eyes were shining two fold, and were now accompanied by a loopy smile coasting her lips. "W-wow..." Alma breathed, a rosy flush coming to her cheeks. "Do they teach that at Garliand too, brother?"
At the word "brother," Ramza suddenly started to shuffle away on the rock that they were both occupying. The old proverbs from the Zodiac Brave Story concerning incest had suddenly taken hold in his mind, though it had been years before when he had read through the ancient texts. "Alma...!" he gasped, pulling his arm away from her shoulder. "That was..." He stared after the girl's near-ecstatic face, not knowing how to explain himself.
In another burst of intuition, Alma already knew exactly what he was thinking about. "Ramza, I believed in Ajora," she told him, scooting back to him and taking his hands. "But I believe in you more."
Ramza shivered at Alma's touch, feeling her soft fingers interlacing with his own more woven ones. The romantic nature of her statement was not lost on the young man, and it brought the most curious of blushes to his face. He hadn't realized that the tone of their conversation had switched from squabbling siblings to concerned lovers. Might they resemble their parents in relationship as well as personalities?
And yet...there was something disturbingly right about the intimacy Alma and him were now sharing. Ramza knew in his heart that no lover could fill the large space in his heart his love for Alma occupied. The kiss had incited an ember that brought new light to a relationship that he formerly assumed was something else. But indeed, they were soulmates, whether anyone liked it or not.
"Ramza," Alma's soft soprano broke the silence, and the boy turned to the other with a growing expression of care on his face. Her eyelashes were flitting slowly with the weight of emotion. and her hand continued to apply subtle pressure to his. "Can we stay like this a moment more?"
Ramza sighed and smiled lazily, squeezing back. "As you wish, dearest sister." he said. "As you wish..."
Ten minutes later, they were asleep.
The caw of a hungry vulture barely broke through the heavy gales of yet another heated desert morning, sailing haphazardly though the cliffs and echoing away into oblivion. The canyons were acting as a wind tunnel, increasing the sand storm to twice its usual strength. Though the wind was nothing that posed a serious threat, it became annoying when your bangs kept stabbing your eyes over and over. Facts that the small group that traveled this path just had to deal with.
"Eeek!" an embarrassed cry called out from beside Ramza. The boy looked over to where the cry had originated from, and found that Alma was desperately holding her skirt down as it flapped in the fierce wind. The girl blushed as the garment flew to the top of her upper thighs, exposing the edges of her white panties. And this time, Ramza blushed as well, having just started to see his sister in a new light.
His chivalry soon took over, though, and the young warrior soon rushed forward to help her out. As Alma had no belongings that were hindering her, Ramza instead clutched the fabric of the girl's skirt, helping her bring it down to a more reasonable level. Her blush increased a bit at her brother's intimate actions, but she soon smiled as she could now keep the back end of her skirt down. "Brother Ramza..." she murmured, as means of a thank you' to the boy.
Ramza looked towards Alma's face, ready to go into big-brother-mode again. "You should wear more suitable clothing in the desert, Alma," he instructed, though a small blush remained on his cheeks.
"I couldn't very well take your cloak, could I?" she responded pointedly, still holding the back of her skirt down. "You need it as much as I do."
"That is true, but..." Ramza found his voice failing him as he caught site of a young, ponytailed engineer hiking beyond from the previous turn of the canyon, and he briefly let go of Alma's skirt to stare after the new arrival. By the expression on Mustadio's face, he had obviously caught sight of the girl's embarrassing moment. Ramza was wondering why the older boy was always on hand when his sister was being uncovered. If it was what he thought it was, he would have to have a long talk with him, perhaps with the aid of a very hefty sword.
But if Mustadio was engaging in less than scrupulous behavior, he didn't show it, for nothing but playful aid was present on his features. "C'mon, Ramza," he called out, cupping his hands over his smiling mouth. "Show that girl how a Hokuten Knight acts!"
Ramza sighed in reluctance at the boy's comment, and turned his head towards the more emotionally-indulging Alma. He supposed it was just as well that Mustadio thought their closeness was the butt of a joke, especially considering the events of last night.
But when he caught sight of his sister, he found her no safer than Mustadio. Alma's face was lit up with a shy smile, her eyes twinkling before her wind-swept bangs. Her hands were now clasped behind her back, letting her skirt sway freely in the wind. And the toe of her left boot was shuffling back and forth on the sand, like a schoolgirl about to receive her boyfriend's knight crest on the eve of his departure into battle.
Ramza stood agape at Alma a moment more, though he had already comprehended what she and Mustadio wanted him to do. Then, he slowly unwrapped the desert cloak from his shoulder, exposing his blue spiked armor to the vicious elements. Dusting off as much of the excess sand as he could in the brief time he had, he drew the cape around his sister, wrapping her up nice and warm. And with a final tug, he left the young Cleric to finish up arranging it as she pleased.
Alma smiled softly at the young man, and tugged at her gift with a certain bashful pride. With a slow looping motion, she ensnared his arm. "Attaboy, Ramza!" Ramza and Alma both started at the sound, and looked over to find Mustadio cheering them on, as if their interaction was a rugby match back at Igros Grammar School. The boy was shaking his fist wildly, an excited smile on his face.
And Ramza could only smile back, at both Alma and Mustadio. After all why shouldn't he smile. He and his sister were desert blooms, two very special flowers that could flourish even in the face of a deathly world. The holy examiners and Shrine Knights could not break it even if they split them up: their two hearts would always beat as one.
'Fin'