Child of the Brave
8. Mission Part 1
Aster bounded from one passerby to the next. Soon he was knocking on almost every single door of the quiet town.
This was Dryfus. It looked more like a ghost town and Delita's men haven't even been through there with a plow, yet. Aster had a succinct feeling that he was being watched the whole time. It was the strange, inkling feeling that the villagers gave him when they stared at him, yelled at him, and slammed the door in his face.
He could not blame their rudeness on them personally. The King really was to blame for all the dark, grim moods that infested the souls of Dryfus villagers. Not a single human being in Ivalice was actually purely bonny, except for the rich lords always prepped up for their King. Those who were at the King's beck and call had a life one would envy.
Aster was beginning to feel stupid and useless. He kept looking out into the woods as if he knew his teammates, Ramza's teammates, were watching him. They were expecting him to lead them to Olan. Aster kicked the dirt between his feet and glared at his boots.
He looked around again, his eyes scanning the perimeter, until he finally spotted the local bar. That was the place to find anybody or anybody with information he needed. It was just his luck to spot it.
Aster stepped into the pub with a wide triumphant, goofy grin on his face. He took a seat on a stool and waved to the bartender.
"What do you want, kid?"
"I just have a question."
"You're question will have to wait. I got customers." He turned away from Aster, who looked like an idiot with his mouth hanging open.
"Is this kid for real?"
Aster swiveled the other way on his stool at the sound of the hushed voice nearby.
The companion who was with the man who spoke, said, "Yeah, I heard he's looking for Olan Durai."
Aster's jaw dropped and his hand was raised to wave at them, but a tap on his shoulder caused him to cease all movement and speech.
"Looking for Olan?" Two men carrying rapiers in their belts asked him. Aster only stared at their rapiers.
"Is that a…Um… Really a problem?" He gulped.
They tried to grab him, but he ducked away from them. Aster elbowed one guy in the ribs and the other one he kicked in the lower back. They both fell to the floor grunting as Aster dashed for the door.
Freedom! Just as he stepped outside, smiling for beating up two men on his own, who were both bigger and taller than him, he stopped suddenly. Around three dozen men stood in a circle around him, barricading him in the middle.
His arms went up over his head immediately. "Hey, I was only looking for Olan Durai! That is the name Ramza Beoulve gave me." The circle started closing in on him. Angry, mob faces were hovering over him.
"Wait!" A few men were pushed aside and the circle had to break.
A man with graying brown hair emerged from the gap. He wore a brown cloak, held in a gold ribbon. His black eyes were twinkling as he looked at Aster. Fascination seemed to flash sparks in his pupils as he gazed at what seemed to be a similar mold of Ramza Beoulve.
"I am an astrologist and writer, Olan Durai." He swept a bow.
Aster released his breath of relief. "Boy, do you have good timing, Sir. I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes just seconds ago."
"I'm very sorry. These people are only trying to protect me."
"No problem at all." Olan helped him up. The man's face hardened ferociously before Aster could even start introducing himself properly. "Listen, Aster, let us speak behind closed doors just in case."
Aster followed Olan back to his home. He was on his toes the whole time, expecting Delita's spies or worse, the Largonian Angels to show up. He was not ready to take on everyone unequipped as he was. He needed help and that was what he was going leave with.
"What would you like to drink?" Olan asked as they seated themselves at the dinning table. "My wife can get you anything."
A blonde woman, who resembled a slightly older version of Alma hustled out of the kitchen to take his order.
"I think I'm fine," Aster said nervously.
"You sure?"
"Yes," Aster whispered, looking away from them for a minute. "I'm on the move and I have been called to protect you, Olan Durai."
Olan chewed on a bread stick. "You mentioned him…"
"Ramza."
"Ramza's alive?"
"No, but he's around."
Olan got up on his feet. "Where is he?"
"Somewhere. He never said."
"But, he sent you here to protect me? From what? I've lived here in peace ever since he perished... Since my father perished…"
"The King has been on a murderous rampage, burning down villages housing people like you, who know the truth about EVERYTHING."
Olan tore at the bread with his teeth, merriment disappearing without a trace in his black eyes. "You don't expect me to leave these people here and runaway do you? I knew this day would come and sometimes I was hoping it would come sooner just to get it over with."
Aster slammed his fist into the table. "Everyone is coming! Because I need everyone's help! We will fight this together!"
"Boy… What do you mean?"
"My name is Aster. I am the son of Alma Beoulve."
Olan's eyes narrowed. "Who was your father?"
"A man I do not ever wish to know."
Olan got up and moved towards the window. He looked up at the horizon glowing orange. "Poor Alma. Bless her soul."
"Your wife…"
"I met her when I first came to this village. Marie does remind me a bit of Alma, wouldn't you agree?"
"Did you have a thing… With… Alma?"
"My dear boy, absolutely not! It was just a coincidence that I fell in love and married someone so close in Alma's likeness."
"Oh."
"Aster, I need to tell you something. When we start running from the fate that Delita Hyral has given us, we will become criminals."
"So?"
"The Church will charge us for heresy."
"So be it."
Olan circled him. "If you help me, your fate will be sealed, then."
"I'm tired of lies. If none of the other Beoulves before me were afraid of death, then I won't be either."
"The Zodiac Brave Story is in my papers," Olan sighed. "If you protect me, protect my work as well."
Aster smiled grimly. "I now know why Ramza sent me here."
"Is that so?'
"Like you, my Father Samuel is a writer. I carry around his book of the Zodiac Brave Story."
Olan brought his hands up to Aster's shoulders. "Perhaps, I may peruse the good Father's manuscript."
End Chapter 8