Chapter 29 Preparation part 1, the tale of Basch

Vaan lay on his back in the dark tunnels, soaked through to the bone as water washed over him.

"Come on then." Basch shouted from the other side of the chamber, Vaan sighed. It was not the first time he was knocked down today and it wouldn't be the last.

"Can we take a breather?" He winced, hauling himself to his feet. His tutor grimmly shook his head.

"Not if you want to be anywhere near a good enough swordsman to help out next time." For the past month Basch had continued with Vaan's lessons in the dark sewer tunnels and he had noticably improved, he had even developed his own style of two handed swordplay. This however didn't stop him from being hurled face first into the ground again and again.

"Right, one more spar and we finish for today." Basch barked, Vaan nodded with newfound enthusiasm and took his stance.

"You ready." Basch grinned.

"Don't warn your enemy." Vaan was always the first to move, he made a diving lunge for Basch's neck which was effortlessly brushed aside, undetered, Vaan slashed wildly but Basch ducked under the swing and struck out at the boy's leg. Vaan awkwardly jumped over the singing blade and Basch took advantage of his air time giving him a solid shove with his shoulder, Vaan hit the floor hard but rolled to absorb the impact and was back on his feet charging again this time a solid head strike, Basch dodged to the left and broadsided Vaan's hand causing him to yelp and drop the sword. Calmly he held his own blade to his pupil's neck.

"You move too much." He said calmly. "You waste so much energy swinging around like that and you may as well tell me what you're going to do with that kind of style." Vaan spat into the sewer.

"It's not like my opponent is beatable." Basch chuckled.

"You are being trained by the man who was once the finest blade in the Dalmascan army, be grateful." Vaan stuck his nose in the air.

"Well I do apologise my lord, good day to you sir!" And he strode up the stairs towards the daylight. Basch put his head in his hands, kids these days.

Half an hour later Basch was walking through the city streets with hood up to hide his face. He winced as a muscle across his chest gave an agonising spasm. It had only been a month since his chest had been wide open for all the world to see, now just a few more scars to add to the collection but Basch knew it would take a few more weeks for them to leave him alone for good. He pressed his hands into every one of his new injuries to relax the muscles, he paused on the gash across his cheek. Vossler made this one. The first time they fought as enemies in over a decade, and the last time they would ever see each other. He laughed softly, everyone would always say he and Vossler were like two sides of the same coin. Slowly he made his way back to the living quarters the resistance had given him. His worldly belongings, mostly weapons and armour were strewn about the floor carelessly. In fact there was only one that wasn't out of place, at the back of the room lay Vossler's sword propped up against the bed. Basch sadly placed his own sword next to it, he had been dreading this for a long time. But he knew he was the only one to do it.

Vossler's chambers had not been opened since his death, and it showed. As Basch opened the door a great cloud of dust errupted in his face, coughing and spluttering he shut the door behind him and surveyed the room. Like his it was full of weapons but unlike his it was tidy, Basch grinned. That was always strange he thought, no matter how more disciplined he was Vossler was always tidier than him. Well, that would make his job easier. He slowly began picking his way through the various chapters of Vossler's life, some he remembered others he didn't but each one only served to file away Vossler's existance piece by piece. Finally he reached the desk at the back of the room, to his surprise he found it with only a little dust coating the top. He must have used it just before he left. The lid creaked open on rusty hinges, empty. All but for one little bundle of paper. Basch picked up the little parcel, he was shocked at it's density. Exactly how much paper was in this package? He gingerly unwrapped the string, pulled the paper open and began to read.

I have no idea who is reading this, but I can only hope my judgement has been correct and you have been sent to clear my chambers. If you are not Basch Fon Ronsenburg I beg of you, see that this gets to him. If you are reading this Basch then my suspisions have been confirmed, I made a terrible mistake in dealing with archadia. But if I am dead it can only mean that you found a way to stop me, well done! Anyway, you and I have fought side by side for years and upon your return and my suspected death I decided to write this. With this Basch I can fight beside you again, help me fight with you...

Basch stepped out of the room clutching the paper to his breast, there was no time to lose. He set off at a run down the corridor making back for his chambers, if he was careful he could start right now. His chain of thought was interrupted when someone about half his height collided with him, he barely registered the impact but Penelo was thrown back from the force of his walk.

"Ahhh!" She shrieked as she fell to the floor.

"I apologise." Stammered Basch. "I wasn't looking." Penelo glared at him.

"You big meany, watch where you're going." She scrambled to her feet, stuck her nose in the air and strutted off in the opposite direction. Basch shook his head and smiled.

"Kids these days."

Yes I am taking a filler arc, why? Cause I think stuff needs to be explained. Won't take long, I promise.