The Zodiac Braves
A Final Fantasy XII/Tactics Fanfiction
By BG-57
Chapter 1
The rain fell hard on the spires of Zeltennia city. Even in the gloom the city was magnificent. Ancient steeples poked up among the hundreds of small houses that crowded the narrow thoroughfares. A castle with high white crenellated walls crowned kept mute watch over the town. The view in the back alley was less spectacular, thought the derelict man. Even curled in a dark corner under a large overhanging eave, water dripped steadily down onto his brown leather cape. A hood concealed his eyes, but his scraggly beard and long unkempt hair were red going grey in places. Long ragged clothes covered the rusted armor he wore underneath the cape. He wondered idly if he really had hit bottom or if there was further to fall. As if to answer that question a dark shadow crept quietly into the alley, like a rat looking for scraps.
"Pardon me Sir," asked a rough voice, "Do you have alms for the poor?" The bedraggled man had stubble and a dark look in his ebon eyes.
"I would hardly be here if I did," he chuckled, "And Sir Germonik hardly suits me."
"What are you, a foreigner?" wondered the second man suspiciously, "Where you from?"
"Archadia," replied the first man evenly, "But I owe allegiance to no land now."
"Surely you have at least some spare change," ventured the beggar.
"I have nothing, now be on your way my good man."
"I'm not your good man, foreign scum!" spat the beggar whipping out of knife and holding it close to the derelict's throat, "Now strip off those rags." For the first time Germonik looked up revealing steely blue eyes between the locks of long hair.
"I will give you only what you deserve," he replied calmly as he pulled out an oblong cloth-wrapped bundle and held it out, "Though I suggest you decline."
The thief sneered and grabbed the package. Suddenly there was an eruption of fire and sparks that echoed deafeningly across the alley. The beggar slumped over backwards, a vague look of surprise crossing his face and then fading to emptiness. Germonik slowly stood and reloaded the Sirius pistol before putting it into a bag slung across his shoulder. He then looked down at the dead man.
"For crimes of theft and assault the accused has been found guilty," he stated automatically, "No appeals are permitted."
He started to leave the alleyway but the paused thoughtfully, then untied a tattered blanket and laid the thief across it. Germonik then folded the dead man's arms across his chest and closed his eyes.
"May the gods guide thy soul to rest from the weary burdens of life," he prayed, "Falam."
It was then he noticed the purse on the beggar's belt. He undid the string and found it contained a modest amount of Gil. Not very profitable to rob the poor, but safer: at least usually. Germonik stood there for a moment, hesitating. It was wrong to profit from murder, especially if they were ill-gotten gains. Although perhaps the money was the sign he was waiting for.
With the pouch of Gil safely tucked away he made his way down to the waterfront. A wharf was constructed on the banks of the freezing Finath River. It was here that barges made their way up to trade with other cities. He crossed over a simple stone bridge with low railings. On the far side he saw that a traveling band had set up a tent and attractions. Fortune telling and maypoles held no interest for him but the barker's speech outside the large tent caught his attention.
"…half woman, half animal! Nowhere in Ivalice can you see such wonders for so little! Only twenty Gil!"
The barker was a dapper man with a handlebar mustache and raven hair slicked back. He stood under the entrance flap of the tent so his bright red trousers and vest did not get wet.
"How much again?" asked Germonik.
"Twenty Gil!" replied the barker eagerly, "Ah, a visitor from another land."
"In a manner of speaking," he replied pulling out two ten-Gil pieces.
"As am I," said the barker with a twinkle, "I always appreciate a man of the world."
"Show me the creature," stated Germonik tersely.
"A man who speaks his mind!" replied the barker cheerfully pulling back a tent flap, "Take a seat anywhere."
In the gloom Germonik saw a few benches arranged in a semicircle around a box covered by canvas sailcloth. He took a seat and let the water drip off his cloak onto the floor. Another patron got up and moved a few prudent benches further away from him. Not that he blamed him; he would have avoided himself as well. Finally the barker lured enough people into the tent and took his place next to the box.
"We are all curious about the unknown and unexplainable…," he began.
"Just open it already!" barked a satisfied customer behind Germonik.
"I give you the result of a hideous grafting experiment of the demented alchemist Rugeven!" he yelled dramatically as he pulled away the sailcloth. Beneath was a cage containing what look at first like a dark-skinned woman with frazzled snow white hair. But looking closer he could see large ears like a Dreamhare's and a small fluffy tail on her posterior. Long nails protruded from her elongated fingers and toes. She was dressed in a shapeless grey tunic and had a collar chained to the four corners of the cage. Her amber eyes lifelessly scanned the crowd that pressed up close for a better view.
"A Viera," murmured Germonik thoughtfully as he rose from his seat.
"Gentlemen, please do not poke the creature," ordered the barker sternly, "She cost a fortune!"
Germonik pushed in between two other shady looking men so he was close to the Viera's tattered right ear.
"Viera," he whispered, "You are far from Eruyt village and Wood you once knew." Her eyes suddenly came to life, but she didn't look up at him.
"Imperial are you?" she whispered back, "Far from home are you as well."
"How you must hate Humes," he guessed, "Would you kill us if you had the chance?" She simply nodded. He placed the wrapped pistol on the floor and slowly pushed it into the cage, where she quickly covered it with her hand.
"Don't disappoint me," he said and turned to leave.
"Where are you going, friend?" demanded the barker, "You haven't seen her performance yet!" Germonik felt like his skin would crawl off.
"I have seen all I wish to see," he said between gritted teeth, "I wish you a smooth journey." The barker released his arm and stared at him slightly fearfully. Germonik smiled and walked out into the rain.
He was halfway across the bridge when he heard the first shot. The second and third followed a moment later. Then pandemonium as the crowd screamed and ran for their lives. In his haste, one of the customers knocked him over the railing. He plunged into the icy waters and found himself dragged under by his armor and the fierce current. Well, if he drowned, that would finish things.
"Do your worst!" he howled up to the thundering heavens in between gasps.
Sometime later he slowly opened his eyes to see he was sprawled on a muddy riverbank near a stand of trees and tall grasses. Wildflowers bloomed nearby as he tried to get up and failed. It was then he noticed the man walking towards him. Although the stranger was dressed in a white robe, his feet weren't dirty. He had a noble face with piercing hazel eyes and long silver hair that flowed past his shoulders. He carried a walking staff in one hand and smiled benevolently down at him.
"Judge Germonik Albecross of Archadia," he said in a melodious voice, "What do you seek?"
It didn't occur to Germonik to be surprised that the stranger knew his name; he must be in the afterlife.
"I just want…," he pondered, "Justice."
"Follow me and you shall have what you wish for," said the stranger holding out a hand.
"At what price?" he ventured squinting suspiciously up at him.
"You must give up all attachments to this world," replied the man in white.
"Let me consider it," said Germonik as he closed his eyes sleepily.
"As you will."
At first it was dark, but then he found himself standing in a large airy hall. Around him were Imperial soldiers in armor like himself. A Judge Magister was facing him and he could vaguely hear shouting. There was a sharp crunching sound of metal piercing metal. Looking down, he saw a sword protruding from his chest, right through the heart….
Geromonik woke up with a start, bathed in sweat. To his surprise he found himself in a four-poster bed with a canopy. He looked down and saw he had been bathed and was wearing a clean nightshirt. Faint sunlight drifted in through the latticework of the windows, illuminating a table and candelabra. Ornate tapestries hung on the walls depicting pastoral scenes of young women frolicking with chocobos. He pulled back the maroon blanket and tried to stand up, but found a dozen bruises all over arguing against that course. He sighed and slumped back onto the pillow. The door opened a crack and he heard a whispered conservation followed by some feminine giggling.
"I hope you're feeling better," said a woman striding into the room. She had long honey blond hair and bright blue-violet eyes. She wore a low cut blue gown that exposed her bosom, which was only partially concealed by a shawl. Some stray locks of her hair were bound with leather thongs and she wore a pendant around her neck. As she reached over to feel his forehead he caught the scent of her flowery perfume. Up close she was older than he had first guessed, but no doubt she had dyed the gray out of her hair.
"Thank you, er, Miss…?" he began haltingly.
"Madam, actually," she corrected quietly, "Madam Violet."
"Geromonik," he replied, "How did I get here?"
"You can thank Hilde," said Violet, "She's waiting outside."
Geromonik turned to the door and saw the Viera from before walk in. She was now dressed in a form-fitting black suit with a familiar looking red vest over it.
"Greetings again," she said in a slightly husky voice.
"You saved me?" he wondered still staring at the vest, "I thought you hated Humes."
"I do, but save for a few," she replied glancing at Violet. Suddenly he had another thought.
"Did you see another man where you found me?" he demanded, "A man in white?" She shook her head.
"You were alone and delirious," she replied, "I thought it best to bring you here."
"Hilde was working for me when she was kidnapped," said the Madam, "Thank goodness you found her."
"Working here…was she-?" he began but was unable to complete the sentence. Violet laughed politely behind an unfurled fan.
"Heavens no," she said, "She was working as my chef."
"I made soup," added Hilde indicating an empty tureen on the table.
"You were in a fever for days," added Violet, "You are quite lucky."
"Perhaps not," he stated dryly as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Violet rose and took his arm to steady him.
"So tell me why an Archadian Judge has paid Zarghidis Trade City a visit," she said.
"I thought we were in Zeltennia," he said, his mind racing, "And I'm not a Judge anymore."
"Fired were you?" wondered Hilde. In shock he looked at her but despite her bluntness he saw nothing but curiosity in her eyes.
"In a manner of speaking," he said with a wry smile as he felt the scar on his chest self-consciously.
"Are you in any pain?" inquired Violet leaning close to him in a way he found unnerving. Not that he was repulsed by her but he had shunned human contact for a long time and it was almost unbearable to experience it again.
"I've had worse," he said brushing off her concern, "I'm sorry I cannot repay your hospitality."
"I don't want your Gil," said Violet stiffly, "You have something far more valuable you can give me."
"Like what?" he wondered. She smiled uneasily, which she tried to conceal behind her fan.
"Stop by Madam Violet's when you are next in Zarghidis," she explained enigmatically, "And I'll tell you."
"Let us take our leave," said Hilde, "Our guest needs to rest."
Out in the hallway a gaggle of young women were waiting.
"How is he?" asked one.
"Is he feeling better?" inquired another.
"Can we help him?" suggested a third coquettishly.
"Off with you girls!" barked Violet sternly gesturing with her fan, "He needs rest!" At that the girls quickly retreated to their rooms.
"Like him, do you?" said Hilde. Violet looked at her helplessly and simply nodded.
"Any man who would save a Viera he does not know," she stated reaching up to gently touch Hilde's ears, "Has my gratitude and admiration."
"I will go," she said, "Protect him I will."
"Where is he going?" wondered Violet.
"That I know not," admitted Hilde, "But go he must." Violet couldn't reply to that; she simply embraced her old friend.
Some time later Geromonik emerged from the room with his hair and beard neatly trimmed, wearing his armor and cloak. Someone had spent a lot of time cleaning off the rust and polishing the metal chestplate, still bearing the twisted serpentine symbol of Archadia. He walked to a courtyard where he found Violet and Hilde waiting by a small reflecting pool. The Viera noted with amusement her mistress admiring the Archadian while bashfully hiding her face behind her fan. He certainly had an air of nobility about him.
"Again, you have my thanks," he said quietly, "But I have to take my leave."
"Come by anytime," replied Violet extending a hand, which he took and kissed.
"Let us depart then," said Hilde, gathering up her Sirius gun and a bag of ammunition. He stared at her for a moment and then shrugged. Who was he to argue with her?
"It's your funeral," he muttered.