Chapter 31 Preparation part 3, the tale of Fran
The mind of a vierra is difficult to comprehend for a human so I shall do my best to describe it. Vierra have a natural superiority complex, no matter their point of view this never really fades so if you ever meet a vierra you can be almost certain they are looking down their nose at you. They are also very beautiful, they need to be. It is part of their unique reproductive cycle, they breed with men from other races. Unfortuanately they are all to aware of their beauty, and as such have developed immense arrogance. They have an innate connection to nature, they can even speak with plants and other still life. However this connection can only be maintained when you live amongst nature, if lost it can be regained but it takes years of living in Golmore jungle and meditating. However even if lost there are still faint flickering voices in the minds of vierra almost all the time, as a result they are usually somewhat irritable. Bear all this in mind and you should have some idea of what it's like to be the average vierra, but remember. Fran is no ordinary vierra.
Fran strode away from her sodden student, smiling at her own whimsey. Why had she taken an orphan girl under her wing? Why had she taught her magick? Why was it the more she taught her the more certain she felt about the matter? It mattered little now, Balthier would soon get bored of the wine, women and stroking bits of his vessel. By that she meant the Strahl. Anyway, once that was all done he would tire and order her to come back to the ship. They would depart, probably not return in years by which time Penelo would be a woman and would have forgotten everything she taught her. Fran chuckled at her own pessimism, are our lives really that meaningless? And why was she full of questions today? She shook her head, no time for pondering right now. She had jobs to do.
First stop was the sandsea tavern, just to check on her comrade. She pushed the door half open.
"What do you mean you've no barsascus." Came a familliar voice, followed swiftly by the sound of a punch up. Fran shut the door blankly.
"He's fine." She said to herself. Next she had to pick up her bow from Amahl's, Amahl was a useful merchant for pirates. Never overcharged, never wasted time and never asked questions. Occasionally made conversation but never any suspicion. As she pushed open the heavy oak door, the portly man from behind the counter.
"Ah, hello my dear." He said through a thick accent. "I trust you're here for your bow." Fran nodded curtly. "I'm afraid it will take a little more work, no more than a few minutes if you would like to wait." Fran nodded once again as the man retrieved the weapon from a workbench and began applying oil to the stress areas. "This truely is magnificent." He said, marveling at the elegant curves of the bow. "Where did you get it?"
"Golmore." Fran answered plainly, it seemed he was in a talkative mood.
"And that sword too." He said gesturing to the short blade over her back. "May I see it." Fran drew the blade and laid it on the table next the shopkeeper, he nodded knowingly.
"I know this workmanship anywhere, you have good taste. No blades in all existance surpass those of Landis." Fran shook her head.
"Actually this one is from Jahara, made in the style of Landis." Amahl tapped the side of his nose.
"Smart, beautiful and a good eye. So far my dear I can find no fault in you." Fran tossed her silver hair over her shoulders, she was used to this treatment. "It's strange I don't see you with a man looking at you." He said looking up and down her skimpy atire, Fran made no attempt to cover herself. It's not like any of the other city vierra wore anything better, besides if anyone tried anything all it would take was one well aimed kick. However this question phased Fran slightly, for thirty years she had never thought of ever finding a mate. She had decided in her profession it was logical not to get too attached to anyone.
"Well, that should about do it." Amahl said, admiring his handywork. Fran paid quickly and made to leave. "You should get yourself a man." The old man chuckled. "It'd be nice to see a smile on your face."
After a day of chores Fran was heading towards the Strahl's hanger, trying desperately not to think about her love life. She was in an emotional mood today and as such she couldn't trust herself to think clearly. She would wake up tommorow with no more of this rubish and laugh at the possibility that she ever considered it. But what if the old man was right, maybe she was being a little too hard headed on the subject. Perhaps it would be possible to find a mate, but who? You must bear in mind that vierra choose their mates based on fighting prowess traditionally, but then again Fran was never one for tradition either. In fact the only man who she had regular contact with and knew her well enough to be considered a mate was... As she strode into the hanger the first thing she noticed was Balthier, covered in bruises stroking a particularly nasty dent in the side of the ship.
"You poor dear," He said lovingly. "Not to worry, I'll soon have you spick and span." Fran looked at the pityfull scene blankly, then turned and walked as briskly as possible in the other direction.
"Pass." She said under her breath.