The Holy Crest (Part I)
Shannon's birthday story... Ok, so it's finally done. And by the way, this thing is HUGE, so like the Simulacrum chapters, it's split into two entries.
So sorry it took so long... There are a couple parts I think are kinda rough, and like with Dee's I very dislike the first few pages but it starts picking up later in. Also like last time, some things are changed to be less awkward - FFXI is amazing but some parts of the storytelling in the early quests are kinda questionable. Not being San d'Orian, I have no idea how Rahal is supposed to act outside of this quest and the questissions, so his personality might be a tad inaccurate.
So, lemme know if anything is just simply unbearable and I'll work to change it. Comments and such are appreciated.
The dark forests blanketed the rolling hills around them, stretching out to the tall foggy mountains in the distance. The shadowy wildwood was eerily silent, save for the occasional strange call from some beast echoing out from the range.
The group waited in the relative safety of the clearing, before the massive stone gate that lead to the city. Scattered around the perimeter were tall Elvaan knights, but instead of reassuring the small crowd, they almost seemed to intimidate as much as the foggy wood.
Kymareon waited patiently in the meandering line that lead up to the city. He was one of the few Elvaan in the group - but that was to be expected, wasn’t it? Most others of his race would be citizens of this kingdom, and would be welcomed hurriedly within the gates. Ky, however, was a foreigner, at least these days now, and waited with the rest to be checked in before being allowed into the city.
As per his tall race, he towered over most of the others, almost conspicuously so. However, like many others in the queue, he was obviously an adventurer, given away by his armor mismatched between pieces for optimum use. As such, he was only given a passing glace by the others.
Not all in the crowd were fortune-seekers, he noted, observing some obvious first-time travelers. Directly before him in the line was a Hume woman wrapped in a rough hooded cloak, glancing nervously back towards the black forest behind them. Even more telling was the short figure hanging on to her arm beside her - a child, garbed in similar dress and looking just as nervous.
Ky noted with a measure of discomfort that despite his towering height, not to mention the massive greataxe strapped to his back, the two in front of him seemed much more fearful of the knights scattered around them.
Behind him, two adventurers bantered lightly, speaking quietly in the encroaching mist. After another moment, the line finally inched forward, leading up to the gate guard stationed at the stone rampart.
Holding back a sigh, Kymareon quelled his apprehension and spared a look back to the rolling, wooded hills. The Ronfaure forests of the Kingdom were like no other country - not the arid Gustaberg desert of Bastok nor the rolling savannas of Sarutabaruta that surrounded Windurst - and truly, nothing had changed, had it? The knights, the forests, the capitol city itself - nothing had changed. Why did he feel such apprehension, then?
The sigh finally escaped Kymareon as the line moved ahead once more. The only thing that had changed was his perception. But it was proving to be the only thing that mattered.
A curt command drew Ky’s attention and he observed that the mother and child ahead of him had reached the checkpoint. The knight on guard motioned for them to come impatiently, and the Hume woman meekly offered forth her papers. The knight scanned over them mechanically, but his eyes stopped halfway down. Brow furrowing, he stated flatly, “Catheraine... Reniselle?” He stared at the woman for a bit, then glanced down at the forms again. “Widow of… Sir Dorevien Reniselle? Returning from your residence in the Republic…”
Ky immediately understood, feeling for the woman’s situation. As if on cue, the child turned her head to glance back down the line behind them. Ky could see her face clearly under the hood - the face was lean, her eyes were round, just like a Hume, but her irises were gray, and underneath the hood he could see her ears were just a bit too long and pointed, inherited from her knight father. Regardless of her reasons, this woman was returning to her late husband’s homeland.
The guard handed back their passports. “Go, go on, then,” he said, waving her through dismissively. Putting an arm around her daughter’s shoulders, the woman hurriedly strode through the stone gate.
Feeling oddly shocked at their treatment, Ky watched the pair go. That woman had wed a San
d’Orian, her daughter was half-Elvaan, but she waited outside in the fog with the rest of the outsiders. It was no different from him, he finally realized. Their bloodlines didn’t matter. Regardless of their respective pasts, they were both the outsiders, now.
He stepped forward reflexively, forgetting momentarily about the guard. “Your passes, if you please,” the knight replied. Silently Ky proffered his papers, feeling a strange sense of unease. How would they act to not just a knight’s son, but also the heir to a noble house, here as a foreigner?
The knight scanned down the page. “Kymareon Aulledreaux,” he recited nonchalantly. “Son of Sir Kymalonir.” Glancing up, he flicked his gloved hand to the adventurer. “Mask off, if you please.”
Ky held back a start - he’d forgotten the Centurion’s Visor he was wearing. Wordlessly he reached up and removed the metal mask that framed his face. Again, the guard seemed not to recognize him, although the other Elvaan looked easily at least as old as he. Handing back the papers, the knight gestured him away. “Very well then. Move along then, foreigner.” Looking down past Ky to the next in line, he prompted, “Well? Step forward!”
Ky stood dumbfounded for a moment, managing to step unevenly through the gate as he glanced back at the guards. They had given no indication that they’d recognized him - not his name, not his face. The noble’s house of Aulledreaux had bore generation after generation of knights, almost since the kingdom’s founding. That heritage may have crumbled with the advent of the Crystal War, but twenty years was not so long for an Elvaan…
An eerie sense of déjà vu washed over Ky as he reached the other end of the gate, and stood facing that first courtyard of the city. Only twenty years, Ky thought again. How quickly the Red Griffon forgets… Refusing to allow himself any more time to hesitate, Kymareon forced his first steps, into the city of San d’Oria.
The capitol was built like a gigantic stone fortress, the only settlement deep within the forest. Within the dark walls, several-storied buildings crammed along the narrow alleys. At the center of the city was both the Grand Cathedral of Altana, Vana’diel’s largest house of worship to the Dawn Goddess, and also the Chateau d’Oraguille, the castle of the Royal Family d’Oraguille.
Ky, however, remained in the southern section of the city, the shopkeep’s district. The far eastern side was his ultimate destination; the Residential Area set aside for commoners and adventurers. Ky resisted the urge to go wander the western half instead; the old Aulledreaux manse was somewhere back there with the rest of the houses owned by highborn families. It was no doubt filled by some other noble’s family now, no longer a part of his life except in memory.
All around the southern half were temporary hawker’s bazaars, both merchants and adventurers peddling their wares, scattered between the looming shops made of the same dark stone as the rest of the city. Beyond them, the huge gate that lead to the Parade Grounds and the city’s center still had the large courtyard before it, decorated by neatly cut lawns and clean stone pathways. A few trees dotted the area, neatly trimmed versions of the ones that grew outside.
The scene was rife with nostalgia - all the countless times he had played here as a child…
Ky crossed the grounds, continuing on his way through the light crowds that milled about the city. Something familiar caught his eye, more fresh in his mind than the memories of his childhood, and the tall Elvaan stopped in place and scanned the crowd again, searching.
There. Lounging back against one of the trees in the courtyard, dozing - it was a Hume. And if Ky wasn’t mistaken…
He approached the figure slowly, studying the reclining form. The tall, broad-shouldered man was just a bit older, at least by Hume standards. In reality he was around the same age as Ky as far as years went, but mentally and physically Ky was the younger as a longer-lived Elvaan.
As Kymareon neared, he became even more certain - the man’s short black hair and dark, neatly cut beard and moustache were dead giveaways, along with the slender rapier in the grass beside him.
Stopping before the dozing Hume, Ky cleared his throat politely. The man didn’t respond, and finally the Elvaan ventured, “Freeman? Pardon me, Freeman?
The Hume stirred, then opened one dark eye. “Oh,” he said simply. “It’s Ky.” Ky couldn’t help the wave of relief he felt at seeing a familiar face - here, in the land of his birth of all places.
Freeman sat up, stretching. “Never thought I’d see you here,”
“And I say the same, Freeman,” Ky answered honestly. “Mind you if I join your rest for a moment? It’s been a marked while since I last spoke to a comrade.” The High Speech seemed to come to him more easily within San d’Orian walls. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
“Yeah, sure,” Free agreed, reaching over in the grass and sleepily fumbling with his long-bladed rapier. Carefully he sheathed it at his waist, making room for Kymareon to sit. “I think Eriol’s here, too,” the red mage mused. “I haven’t seen him, though.”
“Eriol is in San d’Oria, as well?” Ky repeated, surprised. “What brings him to the Kingdom?”
“By invitation, believe it or not,” Freeman answered, finally looking as thought he was waking up. “Okay, y’know how the Temple and Royal knights here are based off of an older order of knighthood?”
“Correct,” Ky replied. “The Templar’s Order - also called the Paladins. The Kingdom’s two present day orders are the last remaining fragments of those paladins.”
“Yeah. Should’ve figured you know that,” Freeman said, shrugging. “Yeah, so there’s this Elvaan here named Balasiel that used to train the knights. According to the rumor mill here that very guy came out of his nice quiet retirement to teach some Bastokan Hume warrior the trials of a knight - not Royal or Temple, but the old kind. The paladins.”
“And that Hume is Eriol?” Ky exclaimed, shocked at the news. “That - that’s unbelievable!”
“I know,” Freeman smiled a little. “Apparently it’s ruffled a lot of feathers here in the capitol.”
“Many would disagree with it,” Ky confirmed tactfully. “Teaching a Hume the path of a knight - I’m sure it’s quite a scandal. But Balasiel is himself a decorated knight, in great favor with the Royal Family. He may not be able to induct Eriol into an official knighthood, but hand selecting him to learn the old ways instead - what an honor!” Ky couldn’t help smiling. “Protecting others, shielding his comrades… it is a path that suits him. Once they see his potential, they will be more accepting.”
“Eh, I’m not too worried,” Freeman admitted. “That Balasiel guy freaking invited him to train. Guy’s gonna do fine.”
“What coincidence,” Ky remarked after a moment. “All members of our little party have scattered out to the corners of Vana’diel, seeking out destiny. I wonder when we will all reunite again…”
“Well, there’s still that wild chocobo chase Med’s out on,” Freeman added. “Following that loony critter, Carbuncle, or whatever. Last I heard, she was all the way out in Rabao.”
“Your sister was called to aid the Avatars by Carbuncle,” Ky reminded of him, thinking of the slight-bodied blonde Hume woman. “That, too, is another great honor.”
“Yeah, she’ll do fine, too,” Freeman concluded. “Speaking of family, where did Cylenean run off to? Med told me last she saw me, but it’s slipped my mind.”
“Cylenean’s set off to Norg, the pirate hideout,” Ky said, keeping his voice flat. “In addition to his thievery, he now trains in the ways of a ninja as well.” The Elvaan had to admit, he’d changed a lot of his views since leaving this city. His acceptance over Eriol’s training and his concern over the half-Elvaan girl were proof of that, where some other of the natives would see those examples as affronts on San d’Orian traditions. But other principles hadn’t changed at all: Ky still couldn’t accept his younger brother’s choice of professions. First and foremost Cylenean was a thief, content to live as a rogue, sneaking and stealing. Now, of all things, he was undertaking additional training as a Ninja, an assassin and miscreant at home in the shadows.
The Humes in their company - all Bastokan - were more at ease with the younger Aulledreaux’s profession of choice, maintaining that it was Cylenean’s personal character that mattered, not his job’s lifestyle. There was no doubt that his brother was a good person at heart, but to Ky, it all seemed so… unbecoming.
“Well, what brings you here, Freeman?” Ky inquired, wishing to change the subject. “I can only imagine the whims fate would bring a red mage.”
“Eh…” Freeman began slowly. “Nothing as epic as everyone else. I stopped by Windurst to see my teacher for a bit, but you can guess how that went.”
Ky raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I don’t. If you don’t mind my prying…” In truth, Ky didn’t know very much at all about Freeman - no one in their group really did, save for his younger half-sister Medeia. Even the moniker “Freeman” was one he’d given himself; again, only he and his sister knew his real name.
“Ah, well then,” Freeman began, obviously surprised by the Elvaan’s interest. “When you study for magehood, you always go to Windurst first off. You learn the fundamentals of your particular brand of magic, through a one-on-one apprenticeship with a like-magicked mage at one of Windurst’s schools. After that’s done, your mentor recommends you to specific places depending on the color of magic in question, where you apply and refine your skills for a year. Black mages stay in Windurst and apply their spells in elemental theory. Red mages head to Bastok and serve as volunteer conscripts in the First Legion Reiters. White mages are sent here, to serve their year in the church healing with the rest of the clerics.”
“Amazing,” Ky answered simply, unable to hide his surprise. He had little beforehand knowledge of how mages trained, and it was a far cry more complicated than he had imagined. “Your teacher is in Windurst, then…? How fared he?”
“She,” corrected Freeman with a smile. “My teacher is a Mithra - Ahki Sebhora. And she’s fine. That crazy old cat wasn’t exactly young even when she was training me, but I learned to give her plenty of respect after the first few Enspelled beatings.”
“Oh… I suppose it’s good to hear she’s well…” Ky replied, taken aback by the information. “So, afterward? What brought you to San d’Oria? “
“Honestly? Nothing,” the red mage admitted, shrugging. “I’ve just been taking it easy. Hadn’t been to Sandy in a while, figured I’d stop by. What about you?”
“Me?” Ky echoed, caught unawares by the question. “I’m… not sure, actually. All of our comrades are out in the world, finding their destinies. I supposed I returned here to see if I could seek my own. This place held my future, once.” It was a painfully conflicted emotion; the actions of the Royal Knights towards House Aulledreaux before and after the war had solidly disillusioned Ky from any plans on joining the knighthood, but… that role was what he had been groomed for all his life. Now he was simply an adventurer, a warrior with no direction.
A few moments of relative silence passed as the two men watched the crowds mill about before them. Despite the turn in the conversation, Ky couldn’t help but feel a little better; he had news of his comrades, at the very least.
“Oh,” he said, just realizing. “I have yet to arrange for my stay here in the adventurer’s quarters.” Sighing, the Elvaan climbed to his feet. “I must beg my leave of you, Freeman.”
“Right,” the Hume answered, then gave a start, muttering, “What was it she told me to... Oh!” He nodded almost to himself, then said aloud, “I realize this whole thing about San d’Oria was a big part of your life before; I get that. But don’t let it wear you down now that it’s not anymore.” Taking a breath, he finished, “A little advice from my dear late father - Destiny isn’t something that you seek out and find like a treasure. It’s something you see when you back on everything’s that happened, after the dust settles.”
Ky smiled, honestly thankful for the gesture. Freeman’s father - the parent he shared with Medeia - was a celebrated hero of Bastok, a proven marksman during the Crystal War. The Elvaan bowed, the most respectful way he knew how to respond. “I shall weigh heavily the words of Markaus Graylin. Thank you for your advice.”
“No problem. I’ll be seeing you, Ky,” Freeman answered easily, remaining where he sat beneath the courtyard tree as he waved. “I’ll keep in touch - we’ll all see each other after all this is done.”
“Farewell,” Kymareon answered, bowing once more before he turned and walked back out into the crowds of the Kingdom.
Ky sat at the edge of the simple bed, holding back another sigh. The Adventurer’s Quarters seemed smaller to him somehow - he felt as if he should be back outside, in the streets of the city. He hadn’t come all this way to stay cloistered within the strange walls of a rented room.
The problem was, he wasn’t sure where else in the Kingdom he would find anything of note, especially to ease the restlessness of the son of a fallen House.
Rising to his feet, Ky shook off the stagnant feeling the best he could and made for the door.
Instead of the markets of Southern San d’Oria, Kymareon found himself wandering through the massive stone gate that surrounded the inner courtyard of the capitol. Within these walls was the castle d’Oraguille, the cathedral, and the consulates of the other nations.
Striding past the large fountain in the center of the plaza, Ky’s thoughts were elsewhere. He was the head of House Aulledreaux now, but what did that mean exactly, now? He wasn’t so sure he was completely at peace with the idea that his lineage seemed to be ending so disgracefully - true, he and his brother had left the Kingdom of their own volition, but did that so easily erase the accomplishments of his ancestors? More troubling, what would his father say about the choices that he’d made? Sir Kymalonir would have disregarded the shameful behavior of his youngest - Cy had been ignored as a candidate even for knighthood, let alone as a head of the House, but Ky himself was a different story. A celebrated knight himself, Ky’s father had decided his sons’ fates before they were even born - would he consider Ky’s decisions as grievous mistakes? Did his House’s glory really end with him?
Exhaling loudly, Ky pushed back the frustrating thoughts as he fell in the shadow of some towering structure. He looked up, surprised, as he halted before it. It was the Cathedral - the Holy Church of Altana. It was one of the things San d’Oria was famous for - not even Jeuno had a place of worship this grand.
This was also where white mages honed their skills before being accepted as full clerics, Ky reminded himself. Freeman had said that Medeia had trained here. Giving a little shrug, the warrior passed through the massive double doors. Where better to find one’s peace than in the temple of the Goddess of Dawn?
The priests inside gave short, welcoming bows as he entered, and he nodded back to them in return. The small waiting-room lead to most of the rest of the church; straight ahead, one door was open to reveal the main chapel. Visible in the pews were a few worshippers, heads bowed in prayer - some were priests, and others were various classes of San d’Orians, and yet others were obviously foreigners, too.
After a moment Ky decided to head another way; he had no desire to disturb the chapel’s worship in his misdirected search. The door to the left was half-open, and Ky took it as a sign. He still wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, but he was definitely looking nonetheless.
A long hallway stretched out before him. On a whim the Elvaan continued his wanderings, deeper into the cathedral. He was in no real rush, and took the time to look over some of the elaborate tapestries that hung from the walls, depicting scenes from the church’s history or images of Altana. Ky realized that he had never really paid any heed to the cathedral - he had never spent a great deal of time here, even while growing up in San d’Oria. That role had been Cy’s - fleeing to the church and the kindness of the clerics after yet another heated clash with their father.
The hallway ended, and Ky stood in a moment of indecision. There were doorways all down the hall, but he couldn’t even begin to decide which way to go next. Perhaps he was in the wrong place after all; maybe he should search the castle itself. Access to Chateau d’Oraguille would be severely limited compared to the Cathedral, but it seemed like an obvious next step after -
Ky’s train of thought was frozen as he turned, noticing one of the long hanging tapestries that adorned the wall. The cloth was as tall as he was, and the scene depicted by the muted colors…
It was three men - three knights. A Paladin, in shining white armor holding a sword and a tall shield. A Dragoon, in that characteristic violet armor, wielding a spear, standing beside a massive, fully grown wyvern. And finally, the Cavalier, riding his armored chocobo, wearing light plate armor and brandishing a long-handled halberd. Three old orders of knight, none of which survived to this day in their present form or numbers.
Ky stood, enraptured at the depictions, feeling like a child again as he tried to take in every minute detail. The minor discovery had more than heartened him…
Two friars entered the hallway from the door farthest down, but Ky paid them no heed. Walking side-by-side, the two hooded men talked in easy, hushed tones, at first disregarding the oblivious warrior. As they moved past him, one gave notice to the tall, pale-haired Elvaan.
“Oh? Enjoying that piece, adventurer?” one asked kindly, as the two of them stopped.
“Oh - y-yes…” Ky answered disjointedly, looking over to the pair. “I… have some interest in the knights…”
“A worthy interest,” the second friar empathized. “Those Orders served the peace faithfully for many generations.”
“A pity they do not remain today…” Ky added under his breath, glancing back to the scroll.
“They may not be in numbers as they once were,” the first friar admitted, “But as long as even one man survives, that Order itself remains, does it not?” Looking thoughtful, he added, “I hear rumor that the former instructor to the Kingdom’s knights, Sir Balasiel, is teaching a Hume the ways of the Paladins. The Templars may not be structured as they once were, but their ways live on in master and student, do they not?”
“Do… you mean to say another, such as a Dragoon or Cavalier, may yet still walk Vana’diel?” Ky asked slowly, looking to the man in disbelief.
“Sadly, I have heard no stories of the cavaliers for many long years,” the friar admitted. “But the Dragon Knights - a man named Cyranuce was the last of that line, and he was only a child in the Crystal War.”
“Truly?!” Ky exclaimed, barely able to keep back his excitement. That age would place him no older than Kymareon himself. “Where might this man be? Does he still live?”
“The man was imprisoned in the Bostaunieux Oubliette several years ago,” the second friar said in a cautionary tone. “Last I heard speak of him, he was still there. I do not know why.”
Ky had heard no whisper of this - why was a knight in the prison? “I - I beg my leave of you, gentlemen. Thank you for your information and encouragement.” Despite his haste he didn’t forget to bow respectfully before he left, a gesture that was returned by the priests. It was all Ky could do not to run back outside.
His next destination had been revealed - the dark prison beneath the Chateau itself. Kymareon wasted no time in walking the short distance across the parade grounds to the Chateau d’Oraguille. Since his relocation to Bastok with his brother, Ky had been recognized as an adventurer in service to the Republic, and as such was allowed into the castle even after giving up his citizenship of the Kingdom.
Because of this, the guards let him by as he crossed the drawbridge to the Chateau. He entered without hesitation, ignoring the irritated glanced shot his was by the various Royal retainers. One of the conditions of the alliances formed after the Crystal War was the opening of the government offices to other nations’ adventurers - it seemed that San d’Oria still wasn’t used to the presence of foreigners in their Royal palace.
Ky made a sharp right from the main chamber, recalling haphazardly from memory the way to the Oubliette. A few more turns - the hallway narrowed and distinctly sloped downward. Then, Ky could finally discern the end - massive double-doors, the entrance to the prison. A guard stood stationed before it, but Ky thought little of it, until the other Elvaan took a step forward to bar his path.
“Ho, adventurer,” the soldier said sternly. “What business do you have in the Oubliette?”
Ky shifted impatiently. “A man named Cyranuce is held within, or so I was told by the church,” he explained, keeping his voice even. “I must speak with him, Sir…”
“Jurgenclaus,” the guard finished, studying the adventurer as if he suspected some sort of trick. “And you are out of luck, friend. Cyranuce has been dead for nary a year.”
It was an effort to hold back the shock and disappointment. “A-are you certain? I was told…”
Jurgenclaus shook his head, and in desperation Ky asked, “Could… could I at least… see his
cell? Humor me, if you would…”
Shrugging, the guard replied, “I’ll accompany you inside, then. The reason anyone would want to willingly go into this pit lies beyond me.” Ky forced himself to wait as the other took his time unlocking and swinging open the wide metal doors, motioning for the warrior to follow him inside.
The Bostaunieux Oubliette was a series of dark, damp corridors each holding several cells, used as a dungeon for the Royal Family. It remained empty in recent years, save for the occasional serious criminal, deemed dangerous by the Throne.
“Is it true that Cyranuce was a dragoon?” Kymareon ventured as he followed the guard through the narrow halls.
“So I heard. The first since Sir Erpalacion B Chanoix,” Jurgenclaus confirmed. “He was imprisoned on behalf of Sir Rahal S Lebrart, the Commander of the Royal Knights himself.” As he finished speaking, he halted and motioned to the cell before him. “Here. Cyranuce’s cell, before his death.”
The compartment was badly damaged, as was the one beside it, and the wall between them was partially collapsed. The cots were twisted beyond repair, and alarmingly, the bars of the adjacent cell were bent outwards, some broken.
“How… did he meet his end?” Kymareon choked, taken aback by the scene.
“The prisoner next to him was a beastmaster awaiting trial,” Jurgenclaus explained. “He summoned a powerful familiar with his power, but the creature went berserk, and its flailing caused the wall to give way, allowing it access to Cyranuce. By the time the guards arrived, the beastmaster had escaped, and only the dragoon’s body remained.”
Ky stepped forward, reaching up and touching the bent bars with the tips of his fingers. An entire order of knights, lost. “A dragoon, imprisoned…” he mused to himself. “Why?”
“Some whisper Sir Rahal was envious of Cyranuce’s power,” Jurgenclaus answered quietly. “Personally, I cannot say. In whispers out of his hearing, it is said that this imprisonment is what lead to his appointment as Captain. Personally, I cannot say why his battles lead him to detain the last dragoon, and slay his wyvern…”
“Wild dragons are creatures like beasts, attacking indiscriminately,” Ky agreed. “Few can mourn their passing. It was the dragoons who felled these beasts, with their knowledge of those enemies. And the wyvern itself is no danger, as it is loyal to its master. What purpose did Rahal have…?” Shaking his head, Ky turned away. “I’ve seen my fill, sir. Thank you for your assistance.”
The two walked back to the entrance in silence as Ky remained absorbed in his thoughts. He was quickly finding himself in the middle of quite a conspiracy. Rahal, the commander of the Royal Knights, was the remaining living participant in this intrigue. How could such an important man be involved with such schemes against another knighthood?
“You know, concerning wyverns…” the guard Jurgenclaus spoke up as they reached the heavy iron doors that marked the passage back into the Chateau. “If you truly desire knowledge concerning the creatures, perhaps you should try the Cathedral once more. It was there you learned of Cyranuce, correct? Mayhap someone there would know more concerning the Dragon Knights themselves.”
“It’s worth the effort, I suppose,” Ky remarked thoughtfully, pausing as they stepped through and closed the massive door behind them. “I thank you for your assistance.” He bowed respectfully, as the guard returned the gesture.
Turning, Ky strode quickly down the corridor, back towards the main rooms of the castle, then outside towards the shadow of the Cathedral.
The doors to the main chapel were closed, and Ky could hear the muffled sounds of the sermon going on behind them. Likewise, the small greeting room was barren - all of the priests were probably attending the service.
Holding back his frustration, the pale-haired Elvaan retraced his earlier steps and returned to the hallway, futilely trying to relocate some wayward priest, but knowing he wouldn’t. He paused at the end of the abandoned hallway, unable to help but notice the tapestry from before.
If he would find anyone, he would have to wait, Ky finally admitted to himself. Most of the church’s followers would be attending the sermon, although he couldn’t say when the ceremony would be finished. Perhaps it would be better if he just…
“Ah…” a voice inquired, causing the warrior to look up from his thoughts. “How might I help you, then, traveler?” A friar, dressed in the church’s standard robes. This Elvaan was actually a bit taller than Ky, and unlike the others, wore his hood pulled up over his face.
Ky blinked, surprised at the other’s presence. Aside from the Cathedral’s on-duty resident healers, he had truly believed that all servants of the church would be attending the cardinal’s mass. “Oh, I - I’ve come to inquire about an old order of the knights. The dragoons, and their wyverns…”
The friar stood impassively. “Ah. I am Brother Chamitidot. I had heard from the others that an adventurer had shown some interest in the old orders.”
“Yes! That was me!” Ky exclaimed bluntly, forgetting himself. “I was sent to the Oubliette, but a guard there stated that Cyranuce, the last of the Dragoons, has already passed on… but then there’s the matter of Captain Rahal…” For a moment Kymareon almost lost himself in his thoughts again.
“It was indeed Rahal’s intent to fell the last Dragon Knight,” Chametidot answered in his soft, calm voice, shocking Ky from his musings. “He was envious of the power…”
“What?!” Ky cried, giving a start. The man spoke with such a cool sureness - he seemed more sure than anyone else thus far.
“Rahal was careless,” the friar continued, seemingly oblivious to Kymareon’s shock. “He may have ended the line for a time, but he did not prevent new dragoons from raising their lances…”
The one thing that defined a dragoon - Ky understood immediately. “There are still wyverns left alive! The dragoons are not lost!”
Chametidot held up a hand placatingly. “This may not be for long - if Rahal feared the power of one knight, then why not act against any new dragoons, as well?” His voice still very quiet and emotionless, he advised, “You must move carefully, with this information I will give you. Do not attract attention. Go to the Shakrami Maze, the caverns that run out of the Meriphetaud Mountains. Deep within you will still find wyvern eggs, as their hatchlings sleep away the eons and wait for their masters to arrive. Take the egg you find to the base of Drogagora’s Spine and let the power within wake the wyvern.”
“Then the creature can bond with a knight - the dragoons can be revived!” Ky said excitedly. An entire knighthood, brought back from the stories…
“Then… Rahal will be stopped,” Chametidot said slowly. “Do you understand all I have told you, Kymareon Aulledreaux?”
“Yes, I do, for certain,” Ky said, nodding vehemently. “I thank you for your assistance!”
“It was my pleasure,” Chametidot said calmly, nodding as the adventurer bowed and hurried away.
Ky’s thoughts were racing as he left the church, and it was all he could do not to run to the port. The Dragon Knights were not lost, they could be saved - and it was in his power to do it. His task was set out before him, and now all he had to do was - Ky stopped in the middle of the parade grounds, dead in his tracks. Right before he had left, the friar had called him by his name - his full name. But Ky had never introduced himself.
Slowly the Elvaan turned to look back at the towering cathedral, feeling more than a little disconcerted. The other surely had recognized him as the eldest of House Aulledreaux. There was nothing strange about that…
“Hail, adventurer,” a voice said impatiently behind him. “You just came from the church, correct?”
“I did,” Ky answered distractedly as he moved to face the Elvaan standing behind him - easily recognizable, and none other than Sir Rahal, the captain of the Royal Knights. The man had a cool air about him that only just masked his fervent impatience.
The captain gave the Cathedral a quick glance. “I have heard rumors of someone asking about the dragoons of old. Might you know a priest I could ask of the matter?”
A spike of panic flashed through Kymareon - this was the very thing that Chametidot had warned him of. “You speak of me,” Ky said, keeping his voice firm. The best lie was based on truth - wasn’t that what his rogue brother was always saying? “I inquired to the friars of those knights. I was told they were all lost to us, now.” A quick moment of thought, and Ky added, “A sad tale, too. Just when a new paladin is being trained, too…”
To his surprise, Rahal looked relieved at the words. “Oh… you were the one… just an adventurer…” he mused distractedly. “I thought it might be him… perhaps that body was…” He glanced up to Ky, giving a quick nod. “Very well then.” Without another word, the knighted Elvaan turned quickly and headed back to the southern part of the city.
Ky breathed a sigh of relief, watching him go. Rahal already suspected something, but then again he seemed largely unconcerned with Ky even knowing his interest with dragoons. Well, Kymareon would rather keep it that way. Remembering his task at hand, the tall Elvaan turned and continued his trek to the city’s port. He could waste no time in his journey to the Maze.
So sorry it took so long... There are a couple parts I think are kinda rough, and like with Dee's I very dislike the first few pages but it starts picking up later in. Also like last time, some things are changed to be less awkward - FFXI is amazing but some parts of the storytelling in the early quests are kinda questionable. Not being San d'Orian, I have no idea how Rahal is supposed to act outside of this quest and the questissions, so his personality might be a tad inaccurate.
So, lemme know if anything is just simply unbearable and I'll work to change it. Comments and such are appreciated.
The dark forests blanketed the rolling hills around them, stretching out to the tall foggy mountains in the distance. The shadowy wildwood was eerily silent, save for the occasional strange call from some beast echoing out from the range.
The group waited in the relative safety of the clearing, before the massive stone gate that lead to the city. Scattered around the perimeter were tall Elvaan knights, but instead of reassuring the small crowd, they almost seemed to intimidate as much as the foggy wood.
Kymareon waited patiently in the meandering line that lead up to the city. He was one of the few Elvaan in the group - but that was to be expected, wasn’t it? Most others of his race would be citizens of this kingdom, and would be welcomed hurriedly within the gates. Ky, however, was a foreigner, at least these days now, and waited with the rest to be checked in before being allowed into the city.
As per his tall race, he towered over most of the others, almost conspicuously so. However, like many others in the queue, he was obviously an adventurer, given away by his armor mismatched between pieces for optimum use. As such, he was only given a passing glace by the others.
Not all in the crowd were fortune-seekers, he noted, observing some obvious first-time travelers. Directly before him in the line was a Hume woman wrapped in a rough hooded cloak, glancing nervously back towards the black forest behind them. Even more telling was the short figure hanging on to her arm beside her - a child, garbed in similar dress and looking just as nervous.
Ky noted with a measure of discomfort that despite his towering height, not to mention the massive greataxe strapped to his back, the two in front of him seemed much more fearful of the knights scattered around them.
Behind him, two adventurers bantered lightly, speaking quietly in the encroaching mist. After another moment, the line finally inched forward, leading up to the gate guard stationed at the stone rampart.
Holding back a sigh, Kymareon quelled his apprehension and spared a look back to the rolling, wooded hills. The Ronfaure forests of the Kingdom were like no other country - not the arid Gustaberg desert of Bastok nor the rolling savannas of Sarutabaruta that surrounded Windurst - and truly, nothing had changed, had it? The knights, the forests, the capitol city itself - nothing had changed. Why did he feel such apprehension, then?
The sigh finally escaped Kymareon as the line moved ahead once more. The only thing that had changed was his perception. But it was proving to be the only thing that mattered.
A curt command drew Ky’s attention and he observed that the mother and child ahead of him had reached the checkpoint. The knight on guard motioned for them to come impatiently, and the Hume woman meekly offered forth her papers. The knight scanned over them mechanically, but his eyes stopped halfway down. Brow furrowing, he stated flatly, “Catheraine... Reniselle?” He stared at the woman for a bit, then glanced down at the forms again. “Widow of… Sir Dorevien Reniselle? Returning from your residence in the Republic…”
Ky immediately understood, feeling for the woman’s situation. As if on cue, the child turned her head to glance back down the line behind them. Ky could see her face clearly under the hood - the face was lean, her eyes were round, just like a Hume, but her irises were gray, and underneath the hood he could see her ears were just a bit too long and pointed, inherited from her knight father. Regardless of her reasons, this woman was returning to her late husband’s homeland.
The guard handed back their passports. “Go, go on, then,” he said, waving her through dismissively. Putting an arm around her daughter’s shoulders, the woman hurriedly strode through the stone gate.
Feeling oddly shocked at their treatment, Ky watched the pair go. That woman had wed a San
d’Orian, her daughter was half-Elvaan, but she waited outside in the fog with the rest of the outsiders. It was no different from him, he finally realized. Their bloodlines didn’t matter. Regardless of their respective pasts, they were both the outsiders, now.
He stepped forward reflexively, forgetting momentarily about the guard. “Your passes, if you please,” the knight replied. Silently Ky proffered his papers, feeling a strange sense of unease. How would they act to not just a knight’s son, but also the heir to a noble house, here as a foreigner?
The knight scanned down the page. “Kymareon Aulledreaux,” he recited nonchalantly. “Son of Sir Kymalonir.” Glancing up, he flicked his gloved hand to the adventurer. “Mask off, if you please.”
Ky held back a start - he’d forgotten the Centurion’s Visor he was wearing. Wordlessly he reached up and removed the metal mask that framed his face. Again, the guard seemed not to recognize him, although the other Elvaan looked easily at least as old as he. Handing back the papers, the knight gestured him away. “Very well then. Move along then, foreigner.” Looking down past Ky to the next in line, he prompted, “Well? Step forward!”
Ky stood dumbfounded for a moment, managing to step unevenly through the gate as he glanced back at the guards. They had given no indication that they’d recognized him - not his name, not his face. The noble’s house of Aulledreaux had bore generation after generation of knights, almost since the kingdom’s founding. That heritage may have crumbled with the advent of the Crystal War, but twenty years was not so long for an Elvaan…
An eerie sense of déjà vu washed over Ky as he reached the other end of the gate, and stood facing that first courtyard of the city. Only twenty years, Ky thought again. How quickly the Red Griffon forgets… Refusing to allow himself any more time to hesitate, Kymareon forced his first steps, into the city of San d’Oria.
The capitol was built like a gigantic stone fortress, the only settlement deep within the forest. Within the dark walls, several-storied buildings crammed along the narrow alleys. At the center of the city was both the Grand Cathedral of Altana, Vana’diel’s largest house of worship to the Dawn Goddess, and also the Chateau d’Oraguille, the castle of the Royal Family d’Oraguille.
Ky, however, remained in the southern section of the city, the shopkeep’s district. The far eastern side was his ultimate destination; the Residential Area set aside for commoners and adventurers. Ky resisted the urge to go wander the western half instead; the old Aulledreaux manse was somewhere back there with the rest of the houses owned by highborn families. It was no doubt filled by some other noble’s family now, no longer a part of his life except in memory.
All around the southern half were temporary hawker’s bazaars, both merchants and adventurers peddling their wares, scattered between the looming shops made of the same dark stone as the rest of the city. Beyond them, the huge gate that lead to the Parade Grounds and the city’s center still had the large courtyard before it, decorated by neatly cut lawns and clean stone pathways. A few trees dotted the area, neatly trimmed versions of the ones that grew outside.
The scene was rife with nostalgia - all the countless times he had played here as a child…
Ky crossed the grounds, continuing on his way through the light crowds that milled about the city. Something familiar caught his eye, more fresh in his mind than the memories of his childhood, and the tall Elvaan stopped in place and scanned the crowd again, searching.
There. Lounging back against one of the trees in the courtyard, dozing - it was a Hume. And if Ky wasn’t mistaken…
He approached the figure slowly, studying the reclining form. The tall, broad-shouldered man was just a bit older, at least by Hume standards. In reality he was around the same age as Ky as far as years went, but mentally and physically Ky was the younger as a longer-lived Elvaan.
As Kymareon neared, he became even more certain - the man’s short black hair and dark, neatly cut beard and moustache were dead giveaways, along with the slender rapier in the grass beside him.
Stopping before the dozing Hume, Ky cleared his throat politely. The man didn’t respond, and finally the Elvaan ventured, “Freeman? Pardon me, Freeman?
The Hume stirred, then opened one dark eye. “Oh,” he said simply. “It’s Ky.” Ky couldn’t help the wave of relief he felt at seeing a familiar face - here, in the land of his birth of all places.
Freeman sat up, stretching. “Never thought I’d see you here,”
“And I say the same, Freeman,” Ky answered honestly. “Mind you if I join your rest for a moment? It’s been a marked while since I last spoke to a comrade.” The High Speech seemed to come to him more easily within San d’Orian walls. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
“Yeah, sure,” Free agreed, reaching over in the grass and sleepily fumbling with his long-bladed rapier. Carefully he sheathed it at his waist, making room for Kymareon to sit. “I think Eriol’s here, too,” the red mage mused. “I haven’t seen him, though.”
“Eriol is in San d’Oria, as well?” Ky repeated, surprised. “What brings him to the Kingdom?”
“By invitation, believe it or not,” Freeman answered, finally looking as thought he was waking up. “Okay, y’know how the Temple and Royal knights here are based off of an older order of knighthood?”
“Correct,” Ky replied. “The Templar’s Order - also called the Paladins. The Kingdom’s two present day orders are the last remaining fragments of those paladins.”
“Yeah. Should’ve figured you know that,” Freeman said, shrugging. “Yeah, so there’s this Elvaan here named Balasiel that used to train the knights. According to the rumor mill here that very guy came out of his nice quiet retirement to teach some Bastokan Hume warrior the trials of a knight - not Royal or Temple, but the old kind. The paladins.”
“And that Hume is Eriol?” Ky exclaimed, shocked at the news. “That - that’s unbelievable!”
“I know,” Freeman smiled a little. “Apparently it’s ruffled a lot of feathers here in the capitol.”
“Many would disagree with it,” Ky confirmed tactfully. “Teaching a Hume the path of a knight - I’m sure it’s quite a scandal. But Balasiel is himself a decorated knight, in great favor with the Royal Family. He may not be able to induct Eriol into an official knighthood, but hand selecting him to learn the old ways instead - what an honor!” Ky couldn’t help smiling. “Protecting others, shielding his comrades… it is a path that suits him. Once they see his potential, they will be more accepting.”
“Eh, I’m not too worried,” Freeman admitted. “That Balasiel guy freaking invited him to train. Guy’s gonna do fine.”
“What coincidence,” Ky remarked after a moment. “All members of our little party have scattered out to the corners of Vana’diel, seeking out destiny. I wonder when we will all reunite again…”
“Well, there’s still that wild chocobo chase Med’s out on,” Freeman added. “Following that loony critter, Carbuncle, or whatever. Last I heard, she was all the way out in Rabao.”
“Your sister was called to aid the Avatars by Carbuncle,” Ky reminded of him, thinking of the slight-bodied blonde Hume woman. “That, too, is another great honor.”
“Yeah, she’ll do fine, too,” Freeman concluded. “Speaking of family, where did Cylenean run off to? Med told me last she saw me, but it’s slipped my mind.”
“Cylenean’s set off to Norg, the pirate hideout,” Ky said, keeping his voice flat. “In addition to his thievery, he now trains in the ways of a ninja as well.” The Elvaan had to admit, he’d changed a lot of his views since leaving this city. His acceptance over Eriol’s training and his concern over the half-Elvaan girl were proof of that, where some other of the natives would see those examples as affronts on San d’Orian traditions. But other principles hadn’t changed at all: Ky still couldn’t accept his younger brother’s choice of professions. First and foremost Cylenean was a thief, content to live as a rogue, sneaking and stealing. Now, of all things, he was undertaking additional training as a Ninja, an assassin and miscreant at home in the shadows.
The Humes in their company - all Bastokan - were more at ease with the younger Aulledreaux’s profession of choice, maintaining that it was Cylenean’s personal character that mattered, not his job’s lifestyle. There was no doubt that his brother was a good person at heart, but to Ky, it all seemed so… unbecoming.
“Well, what brings you here, Freeman?” Ky inquired, wishing to change the subject. “I can only imagine the whims fate would bring a red mage.”
“Eh…” Freeman began slowly. “Nothing as epic as everyone else. I stopped by Windurst to see my teacher for a bit, but you can guess how that went.”
Ky raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I don’t. If you don’t mind my prying…” In truth, Ky didn’t know very much at all about Freeman - no one in their group really did, save for his younger half-sister Medeia. Even the moniker “Freeman” was one he’d given himself; again, only he and his sister knew his real name.
“Ah, well then,” Freeman began, obviously surprised by the Elvaan’s interest. “When you study for magehood, you always go to Windurst first off. You learn the fundamentals of your particular brand of magic, through a one-on-one apprenticeship with a like-magicked mage at one of Windurst’s schools. After that’s done, your mentor recommends you to specific places depending on the color of magic in question, where you apply and refine your skills for a year. Black mages stay in Windurst and apply their spells in elemental theory. Red mages head to Bastok and serve as volunteer conscripts in the First Legion Reiters. White mages are sent here, to serve their year in the church healing with the rest of the clerics.”
“Amazing,” Ky answered simply, unable to hide his surprise. He had little beforehand knowledge of how mages trained, and it was a far cry more complicated than he had imagined. “Your teacher is in Windurst, then…? How fared he?”
“She,” corrected Freeman with a smile. “My teacher is a Mithra - Ahki Sebhora. And she’s fine. That crazy old cat wasn’t exactly young even when she was training me, but I learned to give her plenty of respect after the first few Enspelled beatings.”
“Oh… I suppose it’s good to hear she’s well…” Ky replied, taken aback by the information. “So, afterward? What brought you to San d’Oria? “
“Honestly? Nothing,” the red mage admitted, shrugging. “I’ve just been taking it easy. Hadn’t been to Sandy in a while, figured I’d stop by. What about you?”
“Me?” Ky echoed, caught unawares by the question. “I’m… not sure, actually. All of our comrades are out in the world, finding their destinies. I supposed I returned here to see if I could seek my own. This place held my future, once.” It was a painfully conflicted emotion; the actions of the Royal Knights towards House Aulledreaux before and after the war had solidly disillusioned Ky from any plans on joining the knighthood, but… that role was what he had been groomed for all his life. Now he was simply an adventurer, a warrior with no direction.
A few moments of relative silence passed as the two men watched the crowds mill about before them. Despite the turn in the conversation, Ky couldn’t help but feel a little better; he had news of his comrades, at the very least.
“Oh,” he said, just realizing. “I have yet to arrange for my stay here in the adventurer’s quarters.” Sighing, the Elvaan climbed to his feet. “I must beg my leave of you, Freeman.”
“Right,” the Hume answered, then gave a start, muttering, “What was it she told me to... Oh!” He nodded almost to himself, then said aloud, “I realize this whole thing about San d’Oria was a big part of your life before; I get that. But don’t let it wear you down now that it’s not anymore.” Taking a breath, he finished, “A little advice from my dear late father - Destiny isn’t something that you seek out and find like a treasure. It’s something you see when you back on everything’s that happened, after the dust settles.”
Ky smiled, honestly thankful for the gesture. Freeman’s father - the parent he shared with Medeia - was a celebrated hero of Bastok, a proven marksman during the Crystal War. The Elvaan bowed, the most respectful way he knew how to respond. “I shall weigh heavily the words of Markaus Graylin. Thank you for your advice.”
“No problem. I’ll be seeing you, Ky,” Freeman answered easily, remaining where he sat beneath the courtyard tree as he waved. “I’ll keep in touch - we’ll all see each other after all this is done.”
“Farewell,” Kymareon answered, bowing once more before he turned and walked back out into the crowds of the Kingdom.
Ky sat at the edge of the simple bed, holding back another sigh. The Adventurer’s Quarters seemed smaller to him somehow - he felt as if he should be back outside, in the streets of the city. He hadn’t come all this way to stay cloistered within the strange walls of a rented room.
The problem was, he wasn’t sure where else in the Kingdom he would find anything of note, especially to ease the restlessness of the son of a fallen House.
Rising to his feet, Ky shook off the stagnant feeling the best he could and made for the door.
Instead of the markets of Southern San d’Oria, Kymareon found himself wandering through the massive stone gate that surrounded the inner courtyard of the capitol. Within these walls was the castle d’Oraguille, the cathedral, and the consulates of the other nations.
Striding past the large fountain in the center of the plaza, Ky’s thoughts were elsewhere. He was the head of House Aulledreaux now, but what did that mean exactly, now? He wasn’t so sure he was completely at peace with the idea that his lineage seemed to be ending so disgracefully - true, he and his brother had left the Kingdom of their own volition, but did that so easily erase the accomplishments of his ancestors? More troubling, what would his father say about the choices that he’d made? Sir Kymalonir would have disregarded the shameful behavior of his youngest - Cy had been ignored as a candidate even for knighthood, let alone as a head of the House, but Ky himself was a different story. A celebrated knight himself, Ky’s father had decided his sons’ fates before they were even born - would he consider Ky’s decisions as grievous mistakes? Did his House’s glory really end with him?
Exhaling loudly, Ky pushed back the frustrating thoughts as he fell in the shadow of some towering structure. He looked up, surprised, as he halted before it. It was the Cathedral - the Holy Church of Altana. It was one of the things San d’Oria was famous for - not even Jeuno had a place of worship this grand.
This was also where white mages honed their skills before being accepted as full clerics, Ky reminded himself. Freeman had said that Medeia had trained here. Giving a little shrug, the warrior passed through the massive double doors. Where better to find one’s peace than in the temple of the Goddess of Dawn?
The priests inside gave short, welcoming bows as he entered, and he nodded back to them in return. The small waiting-room lead to most of the rest of the church; straight ahead, one door was open to reveal the main chapel. Visible in the pews were a few worshippers, heads bowed in prayer - some were priests, and others were various classes of San d’Orians, and yet others were obviously foreigners, too.
After a moment Ky decided to head another way; he had no desire to disturb the chapel’s worship in his misdirected search. The door to the left was half-open, and Ky took it as a sign. He still wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, but he was definitely looking nonetheless.
A long hallway stretched out before him. On a whim the Elvaan continued his wanderings, deeper into the cathedral. He was in no real rush, and took the time to look over some of the elaborate tapestries that hung from the walls, depicting scenes from the church’s history or images of Altana. Ky realized that he had never really paid any heed to the cathedral - he had never spent a great deal of time here, even while growing up in San d’Oria. That role had been Cy’s - fleeing to the church and the kindness of the clerics after yet another heated clash with their father.
The hallway ended, and Ky stood in a moment of indecision. There were doorways all down the hall, but he couldn’t even begin to decide which way to go next. Perhaps he was in the wrong place after all; maybe he should search the castle itself. Access to Chateau d’Oraguille would be severely limited compared to the Cathedral, but it seemed like an obvious next step after -
Ky’s train of thought was frozen as he turned, noticing one of the long hanging tapestries that adorned the wall. The cloth was as tall as he was, and the scene depicted by the muted colors…
It was three men - three knights. A Paladin, in shining white armor holding a sword and a tall shield. A Dragoon, in that characteristic violet armor, wielding a spear, standing beside a massive, fully grown wyvern. And finally, the Cavalier, riding his armored chocobo, wearing light plate armor and brandishing a long-handled halberd. Three old orders of knight, none of which survived to this day in their present form or numbers.
Ky stood, enraptured at the depictions, feeling like a child again as he tried to take in every minute detail. The minor discovery had more than heartened him…
Two friars entered the hallway from the door farthest down, but Ky paid them no heed. Walking side-by-side, the two hooded men talked in easy, hushed tones, at first disregarding the oblivious warrior. As they moved past him, one gave notice to the tall, pale-haired Elvaan.
“Oh? Enjoying that piece, adventurer?” one asked kindly, as the two of them stopped.
“Oh - y-yes…” Ky answered disjointedly, looking over to the pair. “I… have some interest in the knights…”
“A worthy interest,” the second friar empathized. “Those Orders served the peace faithfully for many generations.”
“A pity they do not remain today…” Ky added under his breath, glancing back to the scroll.
“They may not be in numbers as they once were,” the first friar admitted, “But as long as even one man survives, that Order itself remains, does it not?” Looking thoughtful, he added, “I hear rumor that the former instructor to the Kingdom’s knights, Sir Balasiel, is teaching a Hume the ways of the Paladins. The Templars may not be structured as they once were, but their ways live on in master and student, do they not?”
“Do… you mean to say another, such as a Dragoon or Cavalier, may yet still walk Vana’diel?” Ky asked slowly, looking to the man in disbelief.
“Sadly, I have heard no stories of the cavaliers for many long years,” the friar admitted. “But the Dragon Knights - a man named Cyranuce was the last of that line, and he was only a child in the Crystal War.”
“Truly?!” Ky exclaimed, barely able to keep back his excitement. That age would place him no older than Kymareon himself. “Where might this man be? Does he still live?”
“The man was imprisoned in the Bostaunieux Oubliette several years ago,” the second friar said in a cautionary tone. “Last I heard speak of him, he was still there. I do not know why.”
Ky had heard no whisper of this - why was a knight in the prison? “I - I beg my leave of you, gentlemen. Thank you for your information and encouragement.” Despite his haste he didn’t forget to bow respectfully before he left, a gesture that was returned by the priests. It was all Ky could do not to run back outside.
His next destination had been revealed - the dark prison beneath the Chateau itself. Kymareon wasted no time in walking the short distance across the parade grounds to the Chateau d’Oraguille. Since his relocation to Bastok with his brother, Ky had been recognized as an adventurer in service to the Republic, and as such was allowed into the castle even after giving up his citizenship of the Kingdom.
Because of this, the guards let him by as he crossed the drawbridge to the Chateau. He entered without hesitation, ignoring the irritated glanced shot his was by the various Royal retainers. One of the conditions of the alliances formed after the Crystal War was the opening of the government offices to other nations’ adventurers - it seemed that San d’Oria still wasn’t used to the presence of foreigners in their Royal palace.
Ky made a sharp right from the main chamber, recalling haphazardly from memory the way to the Oubliette. A few more turns - the hallway narrowed and distinctly sloped downward. Then, Ky could finally discern the end - massive double-doors, the entrance to the prison. A guard stood stationed before it, but Ky thought little of it, until the other Elvaan took a step forward to bar his path.
“Ho, adventurer,” the soldier said sternly. “What business do you have in the Oubliette?”
Ky shifted impatiently. “A man named Cyranuce is held within, or so I was told by the church,” he explained, keeping his voice even. “I must speak with him, Sir…”
“Jurgenclaus,” the guard finished, studying the adventurer as if he suspected some sort of trick. “And you are out of luck, friend. Cyranuce has been dead for nary a year.”
It was an effort to hold back the shock and disappointment. “A-are you certain? I was told…”
Jurgenclaus shook his head, and in desperation Ky asked, “Could… could I at least… see his
cell? Humor me, if you would…”
Shrugging, the guard replied, “I’ll accompany you inside, then. The reason anyone would want to willingly go into this pit lies beyond me.” Ky forced himself to wait as the other took his time unlocking and swinging open the wide metal doors, motioning for the warrior to follow him inside.
The Bostaunieux Oubliette was a series of dark, damp corridors each holding several cells, used as a dungeon for the Royal Family. It remained empty in recent years, save for the occasional serious criminal, deemed dangerous by the Throne.
“Is it true that Cyranuce was a dragoon?” Kymareon ventured as he followed the guard through the narrow halls.
“So I heard. The first since Sir Erpalacion B Chanoix,” Jurgenclaus confirmed. “He was imprisoned on behalf of Sir Rahal S Lebrart, the Commander of the Royal Knights himself.” As he finished speaking, he halted and motioned to the cell before him. “Here. Cyranuce’s cell, before his death.”
The compartment was badly damaged, as was the one beside it, and the wall between them was partially collapsed. The cots were twisted beyond repair, and alarmingly, the bars of the adjacent cell were bent outwards, some broken.
“How… did he meet his end?” Kymareon choked, taken aback by the scene.
“The prisoner next to him was a beastmaster awaiting trial,” Jurgenclaus explained. “He summoned a powerful familiar with his power, but the creature went berserk, and its flailing caused the wall to give way, allowing it access to Cyranuce. By the time the guards arrived, the beastmaster had escaped, and only the dragoon’s body remained.”
Ky stepped forward, reaching up and touching the bent bars with the tips of his fingers. An entire order of knights, lost. “A dragoon, imprisoned…” he mused to himself. “Why?”
“Some whisper Sir Rahal was envious of Cyranuce’s power,” Jurgenclaus answered quietly. “Personally, I cannot say. In whispers out of his hearing, it is said that this imprisonment is what lead to his appointment as Captain. Personally, I cannot say why his battles lead him to detain the last dragoon, and slay his wyvern…”
“Wild dragons are creatures like beasts, attacking indiscriminately,” Ky agreed. “Few can mourn their passing. It was the dragoons who felled these beasts, with their knowledge of those enemies. And the wyvern itself is no danger, as it is loyal to its master. What purpose did Rahal have…?” Shaking his head, Ky turned away. “I’ve seen my fill, sir. Thank you for your assistance.”
The two walked back to the entrance in silence as Ky remained absorbed in his thoughts. He was quickly finding himself in the middle of quite a conspiracy. Rahal, the commander of the Royal Knights, was the remaining living participant in this intrigue. How could such an important man be involved with such schemes against another knighthood?
“You know, concerning wyverns…” the guard Jurgenclaus spoke up as they reached the heavy iron doors that marked the passage back into the Chateau. “If you truly desire knowledge concerning the creatures, perhaps you should try the Cathedral once more. It was there you learned of Cyranuce, correct? Mayhap someone there would know more concerning the Dragon Knights themselves.”
“It’s worth the effort, I suppose,” Ky remarked thoughtfully, pausing as they stepped through and closed the massive door behind them. “I thank you for your assistance.” He bowed respectfully, as the guard returned the gesture.
Turning, Ky strode quickly down the corridor, back towards the main rooms of the castle, then outside towards the shadow of the Cathedral.
The doors to the main chapel were closed, and Ky could hear the muffled sounds of the sermon going on behind them. Likewise, the small greeting room was barren - all of the priests were probably attending the service.
Holding back his frustration, the pale-haired Elvaan retraced his earlier steps and returned to the hallway, futilely trying to relocate some wayward priest, but knowing he wouldn’t. He paused at the end of the abandoned hallway, unable to help but notice the tapestry from before.
If he would find anyone, he would have to wait, Ky finally admitted to himself. Most of the church’s followers would be attending the sermon, although he couldn’t say when the ceremony would be finished. Perhaps it would be better if he just…
“Ah…” a voice inquired, causing the warrior to look up from his thoughts. “How might I help you, then, traveler?” A friar, dressed in the church’s standard robes. This Elvaan was actually a bit taller than Ky, and unlike the others, wore his hood pulled up over his face.
Ky blinked, surprised at the other’s presence. Aside from the Cathedral’s on-duty resident healers, he had truly believed that all servants of the church would be attending the cardinal’s mass. “Oh, I - I’ve come to inquire about an old order of the knights. The dragoons, and their wyverns…”
The friar stood impassively. “Ah. I am Brother Chamitidot. I had heard from the others that an adventurer had shown some interest in the old orders.”
“Yes! That was me!” Ky exclaimed bluntly, forgetting himself. “I was sent to the Oubliette, but a guard there stated that Cyranuce, the last of the Dragoons, has already passed on… but then there’s the matter of Captain Rahal…” For a moment Kymareon almost lost himself in his thoughts again.
“It was indeed Rahal’s intent to fell the last Dragon Knight,” Chametidot answered in his soft, calm voice, shocking Ky from his musings. “He was envious of the power…”
“What?!” Ky cried, giving a start. The man spoke with such a cool sureness - he seemed more sure than anyone else thus far.
“Rahal was careless,” the friar continued, seemingly oblivious to Kymareon’s shock. “He may have ended the line for a time, but he did not prevent new dragoons from raising their lances…”
The one thing that defined a dragoon - Ky understood immediately. “There are still wyverns left alive! The dragoons are not lost!”
Chametidot held up a hand placatingly. “This may not be for long - if Rahal feared the power of one knight, then why not act against any new dragoons, as well?” His voice still very quiet and emotionless, he advised, “You must move carefully, with this information I will give you. Do not attract attention. Go to the Shakrami Maze, the caverns that run out of the Meriphetaud Mountains. Deep within you will still find wyvern eggs, as their hatchlings sleep away the eons and wait for their masters to arrive. Take the egg you find to the base of Drogagora’s Spine and let the power within wake the wyvern.”
“Then the creature can bond with a knight - the dragoons can be revived!” Ky said excitedly. An entire knighthood, brought back from the stories…
“Then… Rahal will be stopped,” Chametidot said slowly. “Do you understand all I have told you, Kymareon Aulledreaux?”
“Yes, I do, for certain,” Ky said, nodding vehemently. “I thank you for your assistance!”
“It was my pleasure,” Chametidot said calmly, nodding as the adventurer bowed and hurried away.
Ky’s thoughts were racing as he left the church, and it was all he could do not to run to the port. The Dragon Knights were not lost, they could be saved - and it was in his power to do it. His task was set out before him, and now all he had to do was - Ky stopped in the middle of the parade grounds, dead in his tracks. Right before he had left, the friar had called him by his name - his full name. But Ky had never introduced himself.
Slowly the Elvaan turned to look back at the towering cathedral, feeling more than a little disconcerted. The other surely had recognized him as the eldest of House Aulledreaux. There was nothing strange about that…
“Hail, adventurer,” a voice said impatiently behind him. “You just came from the church, correct?”
“I did,” Ky answered distractedly as he moved to face the Elvaan standing behind him - easily recognizable, and none other than Sir Rahal, the captain of the Royal Knights. The man had a cool air about him that only just masked his fervent impatience.
The captain gave the Cathedral a quick glance. “I have heard rumors of someone asking about the dragoons of old. Might you know a priest I could ask of the matter?”
A spike of panic flashed through Kymareon - this was the very thing that Chametidot had warned him of. “You speak of me,” Ky said, keeping his voice firm. The best lie was based on truth - wasn’t that what his rogue brother was always saying? “I inquired to the friars of those knights. I was told they were all lost to us, now.” A quick moment of thought, and Ky added, “A sad tale, too. Just when a new paladin is being trained, too…”
To his surprise, Rahal looked relieved at the words. “Oh… you were the one… just an adventurer…” he mused distractedly. “I thought it might be him… perhaps that body was…” He glanced up to Ky, giving a quick nod. “Very well then.” Without another word, the knighted Elvaan turned quickly and headed back to the southern part of the city.
Ky breathed a sigh of relief, watching him go. Rahal already suspected something, but then again he seemed largely unconcerned with Ky even knowing his interest with dragoons. Well, Kymareon would rather keep it that way. Remembering his task at hand, the tall Elvaan turned and continued his trek to the city’s port. He could waste no time in his journey to the Maze.