A/N: Not applicable at this time.
Disclaimer: Please reference entries One and Two for this information.
Warning: The original summary of this report and its corresponding tags are obsolete. We are unable to change them due to several errors not yet addressed in our system, but new tags will be added in time. Deleting entries One and Two have been rendered impossible as well despite many efforts. My superiors are currently investigating whether or not my predecessor, who has since disappeared from our organization, was responsible for the initial damage to these reports and the branch itself. Any updates concerning the investigation will be contained within my notes for future entries until further notice. To the readers of this note, thank you very much for your understanding and cooperation as we address these problems. In honor of my predecessor, who I believe to be innocent, I will henceforth end all entries with her favorite footnote:
Best wishes and God bless you all.
The New T[A]le of Grimoire Weiss
~Entry #3: Starting Over~
Joshua Rosfield often found solace between the pages of a book. Whether it was for research or brief escapism, the dusty musk of tomes and ancient parchments captivated him and eased the mounting stress of Ultima's schemes against humanity. When he wasn't traveling with Clive or assisting in menial tasks around the Hideaway, (much to Jote's constant chagrin since his health was becoming increasingly worse by the day), Joshua could be found in the library perusing the shelves while Harpocrates worked diligently on his own research.
One day, the wise scholar requested his and Clive's assistance in locating a shipment of books recovered from the remnants of Sanbreque's capital city. The two agree to take on the task without any complaint, separating briefly to prepare for the short trip.
Such preparations brought the Phoenix to Charon's shop to purchase a few extra potions and to fetch Torgal from the bowl of treats always at the ready for him near her side.
"Where are ye lads off to this time?" she asks, allowing a smile for the whining hound before fixing a shrewder expression on the young man perusing the weapons she had on display.
"To Northreach, I think," he answers, a subtle grin lighting up his face. "Harpocrates asked Clive and I to investigate a late shipment of books coming from the capital. Delays are hardly a surprise with all the recent aether floods through Storm, but he was insistent about safeguarding this cargo."
Charon, a woman never short on words, is almost eerily silent when her gaze drifts to the coins Joshua places before her for the potions.
"Tell that brother of yours to be careful, aye?"
Joshua offers a kind smile. "I will. Thank you…"
"And ye better not get yourself hurt either," Charon cuts in, winking once at the lad to eliminate any notion of there something being on her mind, even though there was something on her mind. As far as she's concerned, the issue is hers to deal with. The young bloke with the vicious cough didn't need to know about an old merchant's troubles, especially when he would just blabber her business to Clive anyway.
That man was already carrying the fate of humanity on his shoulders. Charon often feared the man would simply combust from the pressure one day, not that she would ever admit to such things aloud.
Besides, an unusual request from a business associate is a burden she is perfectly capable of handling.
"What's the worst that could happen?"
Dangerous questions come with dangerous answers. Why everyone has to learn this the hard way, I will never understand.
Regardless, after a final fiery retort, Charon sends the Phoenix on his way with Torgal, watching them until they slip out of sight. Then, huffing irritably, she prances out of her shop to track down Goetz for a quick trip of her own. With any luck, she would return long before the brothers did.
But that is neither here nor there in relation to the plot at hand…for now anyway.
Returning to the main subjects of our observation, Joshua and Clive reconvene at the pier, with the elder of the two explaining Jill's prior engagement to assist Tarja for the day, hence her absence from their party. After a few more words, the two cross the blighted waters of Bennumere and settle on the banks of…
…
The banks of...
...
The geography of Valisthea is not my strong suit, so we are just going to skip the long, irrelevant details about how the brothers went from point A to point B. Any complaints?
…
Good. I wouldn't have listened to them anyway.
After traveling through the abandoned village of Lostwing, the Rosfield brothers make their way in the general direction of Northreach while keeping a sharp eye out for Akashic scorpions and the like. Based on Harpocrate's intel, the shipment was supposed to pass through Caer Norvent before being transferred to another route bound for Port Isolde, which would have been picked up and brought back to the Hideaway by their uncle from that point.
Emerging from the forest, Joshua sees the telltale sign of a new aether flood cutting through the normal trade route and sighs.
"The entire world will find itself swallowed up in aether before long," Clive murmurs, picking up his pace down a hill.
"All the more reason to tie up the last of our preparations and face Ultima," the Phoenix answers back, also increasing his speed in their trek. "Do you believe the books contained within this cargo will have any information on Ultima himself?"
Clive glances over his shoulder at him, his expression unreadable.
"To be honest, I doubt it."
Joshua nearly trips.
"Then…is this not a waste of time?"
"Helping a valued friend is never a waste," Clive responds easily as they make their approach to the cobblestone path now flooded with aether. "And Harpocrates would not have sent us on this venture for anything worthless, regardless of whether the information he finds helps us against the immediate threat. If he deems these books important for the future, I trust his judgement."
"Fair enough." Joshua replies, withdrawing his sword now that the two were in the thick of the flood. Through the heavy fumes of cobalt fog, he sees an outline of a carriage tipped on its side a short distance ahead.
"It seems the transport was abandoned," Clive whispers, withdrawing his sword now as well. "In a flood this potent, I doubt the merchants could have lasted long without turning."
Joshua offers a nod then fashions an orb of flames to diffuse some of the fog's density while the two men draw closer to the upturned carriage. Slowing with each step, they remain on guard for akashic beasts.
"All clear so far," Clive murmurs after a few minutes, sheathing his sword as he kneels before one of the dismantled crates. Several books lay haphazardly along the cobblestone road.
"We should gather these quickly," Joshua says lowly, reaching for a hardcover history text.
Clive follows his lead, grabbing and placing every tome he sees into two separate piles. In the minutes that follow, the brothers stray a little ways from the carriage in different directions, discovering additional books of smaller sizes. Joshua takes more time with these books, scanning their interiors while Clive settles on snatching up as many books as his arms can carry to add to the piles.
While searching for an undamaged crate to place the books in, his eyes narrow in on a hardcover edition of a play their uncle read to them as children.
"The Road to El Dorado," he reads aloud, chuckling to himself when memories of those happier days flash in his mind's eye.
His nostalgia for the past, fleeting a bittersweet, disappears when the nightmare of Phoenix Gate returns front and center, eliminating any notion of inner peace, even with Joshua alive and well a few feet away.
Forgiving himself for all those years of separation is an ongoing process of healing Clive knows he's running out of time for.
"The battle with Ultima could..."
He cuts the thought short and starts to add the play to the pile near him when a gleam of silver in the grass catches his attention.
"The majority of these books contain the history of past Dominants," Joshua muses, mostly to himself as his eyes scan the titles of what they had gathered so far. "Interesting. Perhaps we can learn more about why we were chosen to bear the spirits of the Eikons we have. "
Clive barely hears his brother's words while drawing near the tome that caught his attention. Intricate, silver carvings weave into a face along its worn, black cover.
Do you still not remember, Grimoire Weiss?
A breeze passes through and carries with it the echo of a wind-chime...or perhaps a xylophone.
Please don't be angry with us. We are only doing our duty.
Our endless existences have a single purpose: to control the lives of others in accordance with the will of the true humans.
The words Clive hears disturb him, for they carry a familiar sentiment he grew exhausted with while fighting against the King of Walooed.
And yet...it was different. Instead of serving a false deity...these voices...
You have your own motives. Your own desires.
And we have ours. I fear it really is just that simple.
When the silence drags for too long, Joshua shuts the book in his hand and inclines his pale blue gaze over his shoulder.
"Clive?"
You and us? We're the same. Tools in the hand of a master!
In a daze, Clive lifts his hand...
No. I am nothing like you.
Words in a language he has never heard flow through his ears in the form of two voices.
"Kuwata (tsuba) tsuno wovalai...
Tsurizhi (swala) pura alekai..."
The haunting melody takes hold of him, drawing his trembling fingers closer to the book's surface...
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
The shrill, feminine cry immediately snaps Clive back to the present.
"Trouble!"
Without further prompting, the Dominant of Ifrit snatches his sword from its sheath and races toward the scream with Torgal trailing close behind him.
Joshua starts to follow but is quickly halted by a sudden jolt that makes his chest constrict. It's a familiar feeling by now.
"Your feeble body cannot hold me for much longer..."
Knees buckling, the younger prince collapses into a crouch as vicious coughs wrack through him.
"Do not...underestimate me..."
He wheezes out an exhale that sends a harsh, crimson splatter against the stone beneath his hands.
"Do not overestimate yourself, boy."
Ignoring the words, Joshua stumbles to his feet and narrows his focus on the screeching of the Akashic beast and Clive's low baritone calling out for Ramuh's power over thunder.
"I...am not done fighting yet," he mumbles, wiping the blood from his mouth as he breaks into a sprint in search of his brother. He doesn't have to travel far, arriving just in time to watch Clive hack through the arm of one of the two Akashic Ogres attacking him.
Near the battlefield his brother was dominating, a woman wearing a black cloak over a white long-sleeved blouse bearing crimson stains along the left side and black leather pants cowers against a tree in obvious terror.
"Clive, keep them busy!" Joshua shouts, rushing toward the woman's side.
He switches to using Shiva's powers without replying, only acknowledging he heard Joshau's the words with a firm nod before plunging his sword through the first Orge's giant head.
Joshua knows that for Clive, silence speaks volumes. In this case, it is an obvious indicator that he will be in for an earful once their task is complete. He should have known he could never hide his worsening condition from his first shield.
He just hopes he won't say anything to Jote. Her lectures about his health, while mild-mannered and respectful on the surface, were a million times more scathing than anything Clive could hope to deliver.
"What do I do…? What do I do…"
The frightened woman rasps out these words with wild eyes so fixed on the battle that she jolts horribly when Joshua kneels next to her.
"What are you…"
"Please hold still," Joshua commands soothingly, laying one hand on her shoulder while extending the other toward the harsh slash across her side. In a panic she tries to shuffle away, heedless of her wound, which forces Joshua to tighten his grip on her shoulder to prevent further movement.
"No! What are you…"
Her words falter when she dares to look into his eyes.
Joshua meets her startled gaze briefly to reassure her she's safe then refocuses on her injury. By slow increments, a warm feathery glow emanates from his palm and into her skin.
The sensation elicits a gasp of surprise from the woman.
"He... He must be…"
"We were sent to help," he says with a gentle smile before shifting his focus back to the battle. Clive had switched to Garuda's move-set at some point and was steadily slashing away at the last Orgre with the Eikon's claws.
He wonders for a moment how his brother manages those moves without throwing out his entire back. The man is thirty-three after all. One of these days the acrobatics…
"Sir?"
Joshua blinks, his attention returning to the woman.
Her emerald eyes practically sparkle with gratitude, and though he is firmly set on Jote as his one great love, the Phoenix is unable to stop himself from blushing at the sudden, unabashed affection he finds in her expression.
"Thank you," she whispers, drawing her face closer to his. "You saved me."
"Um well…I…"
"Technically I saved you both," Clive cuts in, casually striding off the battlefield no worse for wear. "Joshua, are you well?"
Nodding, the Phoenix helps the woman stand and the Dominant of Ifrit scowls, recognizing his brother's refusal to talk about his worsening health, but knows better than to push it while in the middle of a rescue.
"I will escort this maiden out of the flood," Joshua states.
"Very well," Clive agrees. "I will finish gathering the cargo."
The woman glances between the two of them, absorbing their words, then abruptly shoves Joshua away from her. Caught off-guard, he promptly tumbles to the ground with a thunderous crash that makes Clive wince.
"ARE YOU TWO BANDITS!? I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN YOU SAVED ME TO STEAL MY WARES!?"
"For Founder's sake..." Joshua mumbles, practically inaudible with his face in the dirt.
Clive shakes his head and starts to talk to the woman to explain everything but...
"Is that a spear in your hand?"
Sure enough, the mysterious woman had withdrawn a massive spear from...out of nowhere basically.
"If you had that on your person this entire time, then why were you screaming!? You could have easily saved yourself..."
"MAYBE I LIKE PLAYING THE ROLL OF DAMSEL IN DISTRESS! WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO JUDGE ME ANYWAY!? DISHONORABLE THIEVES! I WILL SKEWER YOU BOTH INTO OBLIVION!"
Joshua can only slap his hand against his forehead.
He is not a fan of misunderstandings.
~A little later~
"Oh! Harpocrates sent you? That changes everything! You guys should have told me earlier."
The woman says this cheerfully without sparing a thought to how Clive and Joshua lay sprawled out on the grass before her, fighting to catch their breaths after running for fifteen minutes straight just to lure her away from the aether flood.
"We…*huff*… should have… *huff* let her go…*huff* … Akashic … *huff* … Joshua?"
Poor Joshua couldn't even speak through his wheezing, which was a good indicator that he was probably dying.
Clive, still panting, ponders how he will explain this to Jote.
All the while, the suddenly bubbly woman spins on her heels, twirling her massive spear behind her in a playful show of skill before stabbing the blade into the dirt.
"I truly am sorry for the misunderstanding," she tells them. "Should I go back for the cargo?"
"No," Clive whimpers, forcing himself into a sitting position. "I will…make sure those books get to Harpocrates…"
"Oh, that reminds me. What about my payment?"
Clive stills. "What?"
Joshua slowly twists his head to level a fierce glare at his brother.
"Do you mean to tell me that you failed to bring money with you?"
...
"I thought you were bringing the payment."
"I used all my money on the potions..."
...
"How are you out of money!? Do the Undying not spare you a few coins when you run low?"
"What about you!? You should be made of Gil by now! How do any of your operations at the Hideaway function if your exploits are not what funds them!?"
The woman glances between the two arguing brothers, her expression steadily dropping into a severe frown.
"So what you two are saying...is that you don't have any money for me?"
Clive and Joshua stop arguing with each other long enough to notice the woman's tightening grip on her weapon.
"Will you at least allow us to beg for our lives?" Joshua asks hopelessly, staring directly into her emerald eyes. "Please?"
When silence is the only thing to meet the young man's plea, Clive collapses back into the grass.
"Just make it quick. And tell my lady I love her."
The woman raises a brow at the pathetic display.
"Are you not Cid the Outlaw?" she mutters, removing her hand from the handle of the spear. "This is really embarrassing if you are."
Joshua heaves out a heavy sigh. "In my brother's defense...he is under a great deal of stress these days..."
"Is a simple nap so much to ask for!? I am so TIRED!"
...
"See what I mean?"
The woman stares at Clive for another few seconds, weighing her options.
"I guess...I can let you guys off the hook." Pausing, she offers a sweet smile to Joshua. "After all, you did save me."
Playing up the charm to seal the deal on the trader's mercy, the Phoenix offers her a flirtatious wink and prays Jote never discovers his indiscretion, for that...would definitely end badly.
All the while, having recovered from his moment of despair, Clive simply rolls his eyes.
Not that he has any right to do that with all his pinning for Jill, but that is a whole other story.
"At any rate," the woman continues, withdrawing a small piece of parchment from within her cloak to hold it above the outlaw's face, "Here is my invoice for Harpocrates. Have him send the fee by missive at his earliest convenience."
Clive silently takes it from her hand.
"Until next time then," she says, bowing her head toward them. "Thank you very much for your business."
With spear in hand, the mysterious woman takes off in a mad-dash toward Northreach, eager to get to her next client.
Meanwhile, as Clive examines the invoice more closely...
"How peculiar."
"What is the matter this time, brother?" Joshua asks, finally managing to sit up. "Is her bill an outrageous amount?"
"No, nothing like that," he replies, eyes narrowing on Harpocrate's name written at the top of the invoice. "Just that…this handwriting belongs to an associate of Charon's."
Sighing, the younger of the Rosfield brothers scratches at the back of his head.
"So, Charon and Harpocrates share a contact. How is that peculiar?"
Clive hesitates to answer, his mind circling back to an arduous mission he undertook three years prior. Back then, he was tasked by Charon to retrieve a stolen sword for a weapons trader named Accord. That person, apparently, only conducted business via missive, and to this very day, this merchant has never been seen by anyone. The only real indicator of their existence is the one of a kind blades sent to the Hideaway from time to time.
Frankly, this Accord person is an integral part of why their Cursebreakers are such a formidable force, but the arrangement Charon had with Accord always struck him as…too convenient. Their anonymity, while understandable given his outlaw status, did not help ease his discomfort whenever Charon mentioned them or, on occasion, asked for his help securing materials and funds for this other merchant's activities.
Though he trusted Charon judgement, Accord was entirely too elusive for his liking. Furthermore, their handwriting on this invoice creates a clear deviation from what little he had known.
He also had no idea if the woman they saved was Accord or someone on Accord's payroll.
Either way, all of it rang suspicious to him, especially when one of those books...
...
Unable to voice his concerns to Joshua right then, Clive makes the decision to file the strange experience away into a corner of his mind for further study when he is alone.
"We should finish collecting those books."
~Elsewhere~
"Nan, I don't think this is a good idea. We in the middle of nowhere ye know…"
"We are only a stone's throw away from the Hideaway," Charon retorts, shaking her head.
Well, perhaps they were a little more than a stone's throw away from the place, but not far enough to be all that worrisome.
This small island on the eastern edge of Lake Bennumere is the chosen setting for a more than shady business meeting Charon's starting to regret agreeing to, especially with how the stray scorpions calling the place home chased them across the beach for several minutes upon their arrival, but after a few good stomps of her boots against their giant heads the the vermin wisely opted to leave the vicious businesswoman and her protege alone.
But scorpions or no scorpions, no one likes to be kept waiting.
"We never done business with them like this before," Goetz murmurs, voice trembling from nerves. "What if it's a trap, Nan?"
"Quit ye bellyaching already," Charon orders, her good eye examining the pale pink of the sky while she taps her right foot repeatedly against the sand. "If things go south...the Cursebreakers ain't far."
"But we didn't tell anybody where we was going."
...
Charon chooses not to address that painful oversight, instead choosing to enjoy the serene silence that envelops them. Save for the billowing of the blighted waters and the squawking of the birds passing by, nothing disturbs the quiet here.
If the scorpions weren't around, she would consider this a lovely vacation spot. Founder knows she needs one after all these years helping outlaws with their lofty, world-saving goals.
But eventually her fantasy of sunbathing is disrupted by a series of footsteps echoing from behind them.
"CLICK CLACK. CLICK CLACK. CLICK CLACK."
The feisty merchant smirks.
"Ye kept me waiting long enough. So whaddaya want this time?"