Cecil Harvey: "Attachments" (1/2)
Title: Crusader's Run: Attachments (part 1 of 2)
Theme + Number: Town #4, Calling #18, Gambling #82
Claim: Cecil Harvey
Characters/Pairings included: Cecil, Rydia, Rosa, Tellah
Rating: K
Warnings: Nothing yet
Summary: The calm before the storm. As the two make ready to set out, reality finally sets in for Cecil as he begins realizing the full extent his new conviction carries.
As always, big props goes to Dr Facer taking the time to betaread this chapter.
Index
"Quotes" = Dialogue
"Quotes & Italics" = Thoughts
Bolded Words = Emphasis
*Abstract Wording* = Sound Effects
Paragraphs Full of Italics = Flashback Scene
**Asterisk** = Time Passes and/or Change of POV
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“Cecil..?”
Not realizing he had stopped walking, the dark knight blinks and looks a few paces ahead to find Rydia looking back at him, her face a bit unsure as she asks, “Do you need help with some of that stuff?”
His discomfort weighing heavy, Cecil takes some time to readjust the large sack on his back before replying, “It's fine. Carrying only this much is easy enough.”
The dark knight strides on as if to prove the point and Rydia promptly follows. Indeed, he has little difficulty with the extra load on his shoulders for something else is causing him to strain. He fingers the flat bulge of his tunic, tracing over the small item inside his front pocket.
Contained within is the voucher's badge he had received from Marie yesterday. With it, he was free to purchase anything from the marketplace and the unpaid bills would be directly credited towards the inn's tab. All the dark knight had to do was flash the badge and the vendors gladly handed him whatever goods he wanted, no questions asked. Despite being a new face around town, they trusted him after only a single day, never suspecting the recent supplies bought were for his own selfish gains...
“So we're almost done, right?” Rydia questions while looking up from besides him.
A long, decisive pause, then Cecil takes out the badge and rips it apart with both hands, watching as the scattered pieces fall victim to the wind, “Yeah... just one last stop to make.”
They continue walking down the road and soon enough arrive in front of a place called Fuu Liten, the largest store within the shopping district of Kaipo. The dark knight can tell from the extravagant outside decor that business was prosperous. He had passed by here frequently while running errands for the inn, yet he could never bring himself to actually step inside and complete a task he knew needed to be done. That is until now.
An overhead bell sounds upon their entrance and he notices Rydia's eyes brighten in fascination at the huge variety of commodities that fill the long sections and shelves of the store. From handy tools and medicines to fine armory to elegant cloths and dazzling jewelry, just about everything can be found here.
A short, potty man from behind the corner counter looks from across the room and leisurely makes his way towards them, his beady eyes betraying the disarming smile across his face as he greets, “Ah, welcome. Just what can I do for you today, stranger?”
Cecil takes a brief glance to his right and sees Rydia absently walking on, going further into the shop as she continues to browse its contents with open wonder.
“It's just as well,” the dark knight thinks. It will be a bit easier on him if she's not around to see this. He turns to the merchant, “I'm looking to make a trade.”
“Oh really?” the salesman inquires. Cecil sedately reaches into his inner folds and pulls out the same black box he's been carrying with him ever since he left castle Baron. With a flick of his finger, the lid pops open and reveals a gorgeous engagement ring, the same one he planned for so long to offer to Rosa. The merchant takes the ring out and brings it up, twisting and turning it to the light, “Quite the fancy trinket you have here. This gemstone... sapphire is it? A stellar blue hue like this can only come from the mines of Mythril. It's optimally cut with an attractive design, even the band is fully ornamented. So you're willing to sell this lovely piece?”
The dark knight gives a dim nod and the merchant's eyes narrow in deep thought. Then, he brashly states, “I'll give you 35,500 Gil for it.”
Cecil's face instantly darkens, “You can't be serious..! If you can discern so much from a mere glance, then it's impossible for you to be ignorant of the ring's true value.”
With a knowing smirk, the merchant replies, “I'm very much aware. However, my price still stands and isn't up for bargaining. Take it or leave it.”
“If those are my two options then the choice is clear,” Cecil responds as he snatches the ring back and marches down the store to fetch Rydia. However, the merchant's sly voice follows after him.
“Of course. Feel free to peddle your wares someplace else, stranger, but I think we both know you'll be back here sure enough. Not to be boastful, but my quaint little shop is the most successful you'll find within the trading circle of Kaipo. None of the local vendors will even come close to matching my opening offer. And while there are traveling merchants who may have the necessary funds for a fairer trade... well, unlucky for you, no one has come to do business here as of late, not since the recent migration troubles have cropped up,” the merchant needlessly explains and Cecil pauses, already aware of these issues as well as another, more serious problem the salesman had addressed: transportation.
The dark knight had been relying on the established hovercraft route to traverse the desert, that is until he had heard about the town's situation. He tried gathering info from the locals yet they remained just as unaware, or to be more precise, uninformed of the details. It's not surprising really, because if rumors regarding the barricaded underground footpath are true, that would mean all forms of travel and communications between Kaipo and Damcyan are effectively cut off.
Having given enough time for his words to sink in, the merchant nonchalantly adds, “I'd also imagine it's in your best interest to decide quickly. Wouldn't want to risk causing an unnecessary scene, now would we?”
“... What would you know about that?” Cecil questions evenly.
The merchant replies with a mild shrug of his shoulders, “Just a few things you overhear from the grapevine. We live in a small town, stranger, so word travels real fast around these parts.”
The dark knight falls silent; he was afraid something like this might happen. Since early childhood, he has always been the object of various stares due to his white hair and unearthly light complexion. But Rydia has even more vibrant, striking features which actively capture the eyes of all those around, and the two together make for an unmistakable pair amidst any crowd. He should have realized that news of them as well as yesterday's disturbance would spread like wildfire within this remote, peaceful town.
“So, what exactly are you scheming? Do you plan to turn us in?”
The merchant dramatically throws his hands up in front of himself, “Surely not! But as a law-binding citizen, it's my duty to cooperate with the proper authorities should they happen upon my doorstep, you understand? Although with the right incentive, I can be persuaded to... neglect, the more colorful details regarding my patrons' illustrious background.”
Unamused by his theatrics, the dark knight clarifies, “Speaking frankly, you'll overlook us if I accept your offer. A deal which amounts to little more than barely concealed bribery.”
“Wherever did you learn such foul terms? But if you want to be direct about it, then yes,” the merchant says with a grotty grin, “The allure of riches can make even the most upstanding men forget themselves after all. So it's only natural if I too fell victim to such selective memory loss.”
His mouth thinning, Cecil seriously considers just leaving on principle regardless of the consequences. However, perhaps sensing the mood change, the merchant smoothly shifts his sales pitch.
“Well, if you're having second thoughts about parting with such fine jewelry, then I do have something else in mind,” he says while his gaze lowers, analyzing the weapon at Cecil's side, “Your sword... it's military-issued, forged from the furnaces of Baron, correct? A regular of mine happens to be an esteemed weapons' collector who pays handsomely for quality brands found within my inventory, and that blade will surely meet his satisfaction. Why, I'll be willing to go as high as 22,000 Gil for it. A generous offer, wouldn't you agree?”
Cecil looks down, removes the sheathe sword from his belt and holds it by the scabbard in his left hand. The merchant is right of course. Despite its slightly-worn edge, he's willing to pay a price roughly equivalent to that of a blacksmith's commission fee. It's unlikely the dark knight can acquire a better deal anywhere else, and the amount will be enough to cover all the expenses he has incurred. Most of all, he wouldn't have to sell the ring: the treasure he holds most dear.
He continues staring at the sword's distinguished hilt. His former status and power, the national recognition of his lordly caliber, and most of all the bestowed honor of having served the kingdom and his king, everything he ever was is embedded into this sword. But the decorated hilt, those pretty and petty things like titles and glorified deeds, can't wipe clean a blade polished with immoral death and suffering. There's nothing more he wanted than to cast his weapon, the symbol of Baron's pride, aside and be rid of it forever.
“So why can't I..?”
Between the cross-guards of his sword, Cecil's focus involuntarily falls beyond the blade and happens upon the small figure of his ward. Still in the midst of browsing, Rydia stops upon catching his gaze from far across the room and returns it with a perplexed look.
His eyes lower as a scoff escapes his mouth, thinking to himself how foolish he's being; just what is he doing? It's too late now for take-backs or regrets: his choice already made what feels like a lifetime ago.
Wordlessly, he extends the hand which holds the engagement ring. Taken slightly aback, the salesman grabs hold of the ring yet is met with unexpected resistance as the dark knight's grip tightens, not letting it go. Cecil raises his head and clearly states, “But I'm only letting you hold onto this.”
The merchant crocks an eyebrow, needing only a moment to understand his meaning, “Oh? So you're willing to buy the ring back are you? Quite an odd way of conducting business, stranger. And might I ask, just when can I be expecting the date of collection?”
“... For however long it takes.”
“My oh my, waiting for a day that may never even come. Such highly unappealing terms right from the offset. If I were foolish enough to accept, it would leave me in an awkward position, a terribly tight spot indeed... It's something I'd expect due compensation for,” the merchant's hand slowly rubs his unkempt beard while his eyes thin to mere slits in a calculated show of appraising the deal. Feeling his act has drawn out long enough, the merchant sticks out his hand: all 5 fingers outstretched. He then adds with a toothy smirk, “Ah..! And this is quintuple the amount of my own retail price, mind you.”
“That's fine,” Cecil replies without a shred of hesitation that renders the merchant speechless, not thinking his ludicrous offer would even be remotely accepted. He gawks at the dark knight for several seconds before bursting into loud, obnoxious laughter.
“Bwahahahaahahahaa!! A-ahoohohoo! Y-You definitely are one of a kind, stranger..!” the merchant wheezes out, one arm clutching his stomach while the other hand wipes a stray tear from his eye. Cecil bites back his inner cheek and takes in a prolonged breathe. He has never considered himself to be a particularly violent person, yet the man before him is definitely testing the thresholds of his tolerance. The merchant manages to settle down after awhile and continues, “You do realize that while the gemstone set within this ring is indeed rare, it's not so valuable as to justify such a ridiculous price.”
Growing forlorn, Cecil shakes his head in disagreement, “Even if there's another bearing a similar quality and shine, something like this can never be so readily replaced...
… Because this was the one, the only ring meant for her. But to relinquish it for even a moment… how could I? Even though Rosa may never know, to betray her so... Just what rights do I have to her now..?”
The merchant takes a good, long look at the dark knight, as if seeing him for the first time, before answering, “... Alright. If you're fool
enough to accept such an offer, then I'd imagine you'll be fool enough to actually see it through. But don't keep me waiting for too long; I'd like to enjoy the early retirement after all.”
With a smile that isn't completely tarnished with deceitful trickery, the salesman extends his right hand and Cecil looks down at it, not at all expecting this crooked merchant to abide by such an old tradition. He grasps the outstretched hand and the two men shake firmly, sealing the deal.
They walk over to the store counter in order to complete the transaction and Rydia, who has been keeping her distance these past few minutes, soon joins them. With orderly practice, the salesman begins counting the Gil and distributing them into two separate pouches while the dark knight vaguely looks on.
“You don't seem too happy,” his ward observes. Cecil glances at her for a short while, then decides it's better to speak of the other, less personal issue that has just entered his mind.
“I was just thinking. You remember what I said about the caretakers from the Miran Inn?” the dark knight inquires and Rydia nods, “The money we have now can go a long way in helping with their present financial crisis. But after last night's incident, it's possible they might not want to accept our aid, and since we'll need to be leaving town soon, there won't be another opportunity should they turn us away.”
“... Well... There is something we could do, but you probably won't like the idea,” she says after a bit of thought and Cecil listens with an open ear, “We can try asking this man for his help again.”
At the mention of him, or perhaps it was at the prospect of earning more easy money, the merchant finishes tallying up the coins and inquires, “What's this I hear? You have something else in mind?”
“Actually, we were wondering if you can do us a favor?” Rydia pipes up.
The merchant leans in and speaks to the girl, a bit patronizingly, “My favors don't come free, little missy. But if you're looking to make a deal, then there's no sense not to hear it out.”
“It's the people at the inn. We never got to pay them back yet and were hoping you can do it for us somehow.”
“Ah, a jobber's run is it? Not something I'm usually called upon, but still simple enough. And what would be the amount of this fine donation?”
Before she can answer, the dark knight interrupts his ward by asking, “Just to be sure, Rydia. Are you certain with what you said before? That we don't need to worry about transportation?”
The girl cocks her head, probably recalling their discussion back in front of Kaipo's chocobo ranch, “Well, yeah. There's no problem if all we need is something like that.”
Though still a bit skeptical, Cecil nevertheless takes the smaller of the two pouches and pockets it, leaving a full bag of Gil on the counter. The merchant raises an eyebrow in mild surprise, “Blowing over half your earnings already? You certainly are a man loose with money, stranger.”
“My only real concern is whether or not such a large sum will be received in its entirety,” the dark knight replies with a pointed look.
The salesman crosses his arms and stands a little straighter, his bearings reflecting much pride for his work, “Having entrusted me with this job, you can consider the money to be as good as delivered. Now, moving matters along, how many figures can I be expecting in return?”
“Figures?” the girl echoes.
“My cut, little missy. The fee for my services.”
“Oh. Well, how much would be good?”
“How does fifty-” the merchant unreasonably suggests but buckles under the dark knight's lethal warning glare. The salesman nervously coughs into his hand, then he offers with surprising modesty, “...five percent of gratuity sound..?”
Rydia fixes a hesitant glance towards Cecil and he gives a small motion of approval. However, she seems to have taken his gesture completely the wrong way as she says, “You wanted fifteen? Okay.”
The salesman instantly beams with delight while the dark knight is thrown off and hastily tries to rectify, “He already agreed to a smaller share, Rydia, so there's absolutely no reason to give him any more than that.”
The girl mulls over his words for all of two seconds before raising a hand and waving his comment away, “It's not all that big of a difference, right? And besides, he's been a big help to us all this time, so it's good to give him back a little extra as thanks.”
The merchant wiggles his finger in mock reproach and chimes in, “For shame, stranger. You should be setting a better example for the little missy here. For her to know more in the ways of civil courtesy than you do. Tragic..! A true tragedy indeed.”
“Yep!” his ward readily chirps and nods twice, as if one time isn't enough to convey her over-eagerness.
Cecil glowers yet doesn't try to argue the point, knowing Rydia was at least partially right and that he was just being petty. The amount of money had never been a real issue since they can get by well enough even with the leftover funds. It was just incredibly vexing when he had received so little for the engagement ring, as if to say that was all it's worth, “Not to mention...”
The dark knight warily eyes the greedy merchant and finds it increasingly difficult to fight down his bitterness over handing this crook more money than he rightly deserves. Though highly reluctant, Cecil manages a stiff nod.
“Knew you'd come around to it, stranger, and I must give thanks for providing never-ending wonders for my business,” the merchant says with pure mirth, his demeanor never chipper, “Tell you what. As a special bonus, I'll even throw in a freebie, a small something of the little missy's choosing.”
“You mean I can have anything I want?” Rydia asks, a ting of childish hope in her tone, while Cecil's face is full of skepticism, knowing there has to be some kind of catch to his offer.
“That's right. But only one item around this section here.”
She presses a finger against her chin and gives a long, thoughtful pause, then gives a deflated response, “On second thought, forget it.”
“Hey now! You don't believe me? I'm a man of my word, little missy.”
“But what if I pick something that's really valuable or expensive? You wouldn't like that, right?”
“Wha-ha-ha..! Oh, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about there.” the salesman boosts and Cecil can now see why. With prices all marked under 100 Gil, it would be impossible for this cheapskate to lose anything of value here.
The girl ducks her head and looks up at him with wide, brimming eyes, “Really..? Are you sure?”
The merchant nods with great confidence, “Just go ahead and say whatever it is you like.”
“Then I want that back,” Rydia replies right away, much to Cecil's surprise as she drops all pretenses and whips a finger at what's inside the man's pocket.
The merchant blinks dumbly, “...Eh?”
“The ring. Give it back.”
“... Ah..! You seem to be mistaken about something, little missy. The choices you have are limited to the merchandise found on these shelves.”
“You didn't say anything like that before,” she accurately states.
“Not in those exact words, no. But that's what I meant.”
“All you said was that I can have anything in this section for free, nothing about where I can get it from. And since we're all around here, then I don't see why that ring can't be included.”
The merchant replies in a stained voice, “Like I just mentioned, it was a tiny misunderstanding...”
“You're just making up excuses now and going back on your word, even though you swore you wouldn't.”
“Well, yes... I mean no..! I wasn't-”
“So how was I wrong? Especially when you're the one being dishonest and not owing up to what they said.”
The merchant turns his head up and away, looking as if he's having a serious migraine, and Cecil might have felt a twitch of sympathy if this were happening to a more honest person. But the salesman's dilemma is short-lived as he takes notice of the dark knight and suddenly recalls, “Ah yes, how can I forget..! I've already promised your companion here exclusive rights to this particular piece.”
“... A promise..?” the girl quietly repeats, her face softening.
Seeing a chance to walk away with his dignity, the merchant pounces on it, “That's right, little missy. My previous agreement with him is iron-clad, takes top priority and can't be voided.”
The girl furrows her eyes brows, full of doubt, yet is unable to give a good response. Knowing the relentless merchant will simply drag this argument out, Cecil steps up and interjects, “You don't need to go so far, Rydia.”
She starts sulking, still not willing to let the matter go, “But it was so pretty, and it's important to you. I thought you really wanted it back.”
The dark knight stares at his ward, realizing he must have looked awfully pitiful if she was able to deduce this much. He lets out a quiet breathe and answers earnestly, “I do. More than anything. And that's why I need to get it back myself or else it won't mean a thing.”
“Still...”
“It's alright. What you've done already is more than enough,” Cecil says, and he finds himself meaning it.
“It's as he says, little missy. A cheeky brat like you should just to sit tight and listen to your elders on this one,” the merchant lectures as he shamelessly rallies behind the dark knight. Cecil glances sideways and grimaces, his good feelings quickly diminishing with each chummy slap of the shoulders made by the other man, “So now that you know better, you'll need to be selecting something else from my lineup.”
“... That's okay. There's nothing here that I really want anyways,” Rydia states truthfully after taking a quick glance over the multitude of lousy knickknacks. The salesman takes a long gander at her, scratching his beard while keeping one eye closed as he heavily considers.
“Fair enough. Then how about leaving the decision to me and see if I can choose an item that will strike your fancy,” the merchant says. He then walks with purpose and the two of them follow suit, wondering what he has in mind. While moving through the center aisle, the salesman's hand hovers over the lower right-side shelf and teasingly dips just above some of the merchandise they happen to pass by, “So, I'm guessing... this should be... the one... right... about... Here.”
Picking up a rather strange piece from the accessory area, the salesman holds it out with both hands and Rydia releases an audible, bated breathe, her eyes twinkling. This was a little too good of a guess, or so Cecil figures. The merchant must have also been paying careful attention to the girl ever since they stepped foot inside the store. Knowing him though, it was most likely to make sure she wasn't shoplifting.
She reaches out to touch it, yet her fingers jerk back as she remembers herself and casts a timid glance at the dark knight. Cecil gives a reassuring nod that puts his ward at ease and she gladly takes it without further reservations.
Rydia places the oversized ornament atop her head and begins fiddling with the back of it, further tangling up strands of wild green hair in the process. Cecil dubiously looks on and is just about to say something when he hears the secure sound of a clip fastening. After a few quick swipes to flatten out her hair, Rydia twirls for him and cheerfully asks, “So how is it? Doesn't it look nice?”
The dark knight can only stare at the tacky hairpin with his mouth ajar, honestly not knowing what the hell it was until just a few seconds ago, “Yeah. That's, um, very... eye-catching...”
The hairpin is azure colored, much like Kain's armor yet is a couple of shades lighter than her own indigo eyes, and resembles a flower or a star or something of that nature. It's well-crafted and looks to be made from fine materials, yet one might begin having doubts of its quality upon discovering the multiple times its price tag has been slashed down. He can tell from the layers of collected dust that the accessory has been a hard sell despite only now being worth 450 Gil. And with a pointlessly large size that covers one-third of Rydia's entire head, it's no great wonder why it remained on the shelves. The dark knight squints his eyes as if that would magically transform his vision of the ornament, struggling to find at least one appealing aspect to it, “Perhaps it distracts away from her emerald hair? If just a tiny bit, maybe..? ... not.
… Well, I suppose it's fine,” Cecil concedes as he lays witness to the infectious smile still adorning her face. If a simple hairpin can bring back a bit of joy into this girl's life, then he really has no reason to complain.
Concluding their business here, the two travelers make ready to leave yet the merchant speaks up once again, “A word of advice. If you're thinking of taking the old trading route north, then you best be wary. Recently, those traveling there turn up missing, while the returning few speak tales of a crazed old man who bars the path through the underground waterway. It would be a crying shame for me if you ended up like many of the others and became just another lost statistic.”
Grateful for this tidbit of info, Cecil gives the merchant a final nod, “Needless to say we'll stay on guard. Until then.”
“Be seeing you, stranger. And of course, the little missy as well. I'll be awaiting your return at anytime.”
They exit the store and continue to walk until the two reach the outskirts of Kaipo. Even though they have a set road ahead and are better equipped, journeying through the vast desert regions on foot is an endeavor Cecil would care not to repeat. And so, he allows his ward free reign while he stands off to the side and waits.
Eyes half-lidded, Rydia begins by breaking her stillness and twirling in place, deliberately slow in her movements as she swings her arms freely about while dragging one foot across the sand. After completing a full turn, she halts to a pageant stop. Then, she stomps the heel of her right foot once. Twice. Unbelievably, the ground actually quakes under the small girl's steps and grains of sand lift up a bit before they settle neatly back down, forming a variety of foreign runic markings within the circle she had made. Then as if overcome with sheer exhaustion, she slumps to the ground, her head bowed down with both knees and palms flat against the sand.
Several beats pass and Cecil starts to worry, fearing something might have gone wrong. He takes a step forward but instantly retracts back as the rune sparks to life. Rydia's eyes snap forward just before a bright yellow flash raises from the ground and engulfs her whole.
The dark knight shields his face with his right hand and squirts into the light, trying to make out where his young ward is. The brightness soon fades and in its place stands a white chocobo, seeming to have risen straight out of nothing, with Rydia casually sitting sideways on top of it. She greets the giant bird affectionately, stroking its long, feathery neck and it responds by nuzzling its beak into her cheek.
“Amazing... Summoners indeed. The name certainly suits them well.” Cecil thinks with awe and Rydia, who had been gazing down at him with bright expectation, smiles wider upon seeing his agape reaction, “Then again, maybe it's not so surprising. At least I'm not being blown back a few dozen meters and scrambling for my life this time around.”
Though he's unfamiliar with their species, he does know of one discrete, special trait based on its color. Like Troia's famous black chocobos, this one is another type of rare breed that, while unknown to him, possesses unique terrain abilities amongst its kind. The dark knight notes that the bird is fairly small, only about half the size of a common yellow chocobo, and thinks maybe it's a characteristic of its breed or that it has yet to reach full maturity. Unlike the docile mounts in Baron's stables or the malnourished ones he had seen earlier in the farming ranch of Kaipo, this chocobo is very robust and seems to be far more energetic and animated even in its idle stance.
Glad that he was right to believe in his ward, Cecil transfers the sack he's carrying, however, the chocobo jolts forward before he can securely tie down their belongings. He moves to pick up some of the fallen supplies and walks towards the giant bird yet it promptly trots away, “What the..?”
He takes a step forward and the chocobo again takes to two steps back. Several attempts at getting closer ends in failure and leaves the dark knight standing with a heavy scowl. Then suddenly, he makes a bold leap at the bird yet it manages to hop away, shaking off the excess baggage on its back in retaliation. He takes this moment to look at his ward who sits there, her face observant and unconcerned as she watches the antics unfold.
“Isn't there something you can do, Rydia?”
“Do..?” she echoes, confused, “Like what?”
“Well for one, can't you make this chocobo more obedient? We need to use him for traveling after all, and that won't be possible if he's acting this wild and rambunctious. Not to mention...” Cecil starts to say but trails off upon noticing the unpleasant look on his ward's face.
“I can't make her do anything. She answers my call and listens to me because she's my friend.” the summoner acutely replies, “If you want Coco to behave, then you can start by treating her more nicely.”
“So, respect others and they'll reply in kind..? Will that even work for this bird?”
Mimicking Rydia's earlier actions, Cecil starts by rubbing the plush underside of its fluffy neck but the chocobo doesn't take too kindly to the gesture. With its pointy beak, it swiftly pecks at his palm and causes the dark knight to flinch his hand away with a startled cry.
“She doesn't like to be touched so familiar-like by strangers,” Rydia states a bit too late, “But it's good. I think she's starting to warm up to you.”
Still squeezing his punctured wound numb, the dark knight says flatly, “I'm really not seeing it.”
“That's just 'cause you're not paying enough attention. It took me a long time too, but understanding her becomes real easy once you know what to look for.”
Suppressing his irritation, Cecil squats down and fumbles through their luggage in order to retrieve the gyashi greens. He had learned from Rosa that the herb is used as a key ingredient in the creation of the potion's series. But even on its own the aloe from its leaves can be used as a healing ointment which can clog up minor open wounds.
Just as he was about to apply the herb, the chocobo perks up and trots over to him. Cecil stares in disbelief before tentatively trying to pet it for a second time, but his hopes are stripped away once again as the unruly bird snatches the gyashi greens right out from his other hand.
“Hey-!” the dark knight shouts then snaps his mouth shut to keep from shouting any obscurities. Grabbing onto the other end, he gives a mighty tug which causes the herb to be split into two and sends him stumbling a few paces back. The chocobo wastes no time as it dips its neck and begins devouring the large supply of gyashi greens from the open sack. Cecil quickly stands over their luggage and tries shooing it away but the chocobo fights back in a ruffle of feathers, aggressively flapping its wings as it gives no quarter.
“Just so you know, you're not winning many points with Coco right now,” Rydia supplies. The dark knight shifts his focus towards her, mainly so that he wouldn't be glaring daggers at the damnable bird.
“Why is this chocobo even eating these greens anyway? Isn't its regular diet suppose to consist of carrots and other vegetables?”
“Hmm... I don't know about that. But she obviously likes the food you brought.”
He lets out a hefty sigh, “It just has to have expensive taste...”
“Yeah. She is kinda spoiled and likes to be pampered,” Rydia says and the chocobo coos in unabashed agreement. It begins making various motions with its wings and claws which grabs her undivided attention, and the summoner gives all sorts of affirmative nods in-between until she finally exclaims, “Oh, great news! Coco said she might reconsider carrying your stuff if you become her personal groomer.”
The dark knight stands there with an incredible look on his face as a dry desert breeze blows by, “... I'll have to decline.”
A disappointed frown appears on his ward's face, “You're not happy with it?”
“That's not exactly what I pictured my future occupation to be,” he concretely informs. Scraping together the leftover remains of his patience, Cecil barely manages a civilized request, “Rydia. Can you please try harder to reason with this choco- with Coco and get her to understand how vital her cooperation is?”
The summoner briskly nods in compliance. Scooting closer towards the front, she presses down then pats the wide, unoccupied space of its back but the chocobo merely turns its beak up in response. Rydia reaches out with both hands, takes hold of the its face and turns it back her way. Then she gets real close and starts rubbing their foreheads together as if direct contact will better convey her unspoken message. The chocobo stubbornly bristles, yet calms down after awhile until finally it appears to settle into the idea.
“Well... Coco believes you're really rude and think way too highly of yourself. But she at least likes your honesty, so she's willing to let you ride her this one time. 'Just don't get any funny ideas' she said.”
“I'll bear that in mind and keep idle hands from roaming,” Cecil responds, exasperated, as he wonders just how much creative liberty Rydia was taking in her role as translator. But true to her word, the chocobo gives him no further delays with the packing, so he can at least cross out the possibility that this was all just make-believe.
He hops on without incident and the two travelers resume their trek through the desert. It's been a surprisingly pleasant and smooth ride even without a saddle, and the sweltering sun doesn't seem nearly as harsh due to the constant headwind. For what feels like the first time in ages, the dark knight is able to slack back and relax, “I have to admit, Rydia, that Coco has been of great help. It's fortunate you were able to handle this situation.”
“Mm, it's no big deal. You can do it too,”
He gives a faint smile, “That's doubtful, since I don't have much talent for sorcery much less the mystics of summoning.”
“Oh, not that. I just meant being able to talk with her even without words. Though I guess things could have been a whole lot easier, but I'm just the same as you here.”
His eye brows wrinkling, Cecil has a hard time understanding, “Similar to me? In regards to what?”
“A link: by forming one with Coco we could do all kinds of things like read each other's mind. I haven't made a connection with her either,” the summoner states, then shakes her head and corrects herself, “Or it's more like I'm not allowed to.”
He blinks, remembering a time not too long ago where he had witnessed her magic firsthand, “How strange...
Why is that?”
“I don't really know, but that's just the way it's always been,” she says with a shrug before returning her gaze ahead, tilting her head skyward while doing so, “The feeling though and what it's like... It's life-changing, like exchanging a little piece of your entire being. But it's needless for us though, since no person born is ever really missing anything. That's why you have to give yourself up completely or else you'll be left with nothing but a hole in your heart... At least that was what mama had told me.”
The chocobo trots on, leaving behind only its footprints across the sand before they too are erased by a fell wind and vanish from all existence.
“..? What is it?” Rydia asks after turning her head back.
Cecil stares into her face, crease-less and lacking in any type of emotion. Her mouth is set into a fine line, no wet or wavering eyes, not even so much as a quiver had arisen in her voice. Nothing at all to suggest something might be amiss with her: and that's precisely the problem.
“This should be a good thing, right? So why does it feel otherwise..?
No... it's nothing,” the dark knight relies yet fails to reassure even himself, “... Am I just being pessimistic? But for her to speak of the past as if she never played any part in it... Can she already be alright with everything? Is it really so easy for her to forgive and forget..?”
The thought fills him both with hollow relief and vile disgust, because now he has less to feel guilty about.
Cecil lies his musings to rest and observes his surroundings, its simplicity far more preferred than fishing for questions he knows not the answers to.
The grains of sand hitting his skin. The breath of the desert. The heat of the sun. The white clouds overhead. The dry air.
Sitting here, relaxing. Doing nothing but sitting.
Lying back. Relaxing. Breathing.
…Calmly. Fading...
Weary...breathing...
…heavy
…fading...
…sleep...y...
…no...thing...
…not...
...a...
...thing...
**********
His vision grew blurry and when he blinked, the endless sand and vast skies collapsed into an enclosed space full of rustic brown, creamy tan, rainbow dots and man-made gray. This building, this place: it was an all too familiar scene that he shouldn't even be seeing. He looked around and found a familiar teenage girl occupying the same table opposite of him.
“Rosa..?” Cecil uttered, as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes. And like the pouring sand inside an hourglass, the weight of the consciousness lopsided and the images he had known to be true soon slipped into nothing more than remnants of a waking dream.
“You've been in a daze for so long that I was beginning to think you had departed from this world,” she teasingly remarked, then her expression shifted to one of mild sympathy, “Though I can imagine why. It must be rather boring, always sitting here with nothing to do but watch me study.”
“That's not true, or else I wouldn't have come in the first place,” he replied, not noticing the long hours which had flown by since his stay. A thought then struck him and the squire scratched his right cheek with a finger while looking down a bit abashed, “Or is this your subtle way of saying I'm just being a bother?”
“Not at all..! It's wonderful to have you here, especially since we've been seeing so little of each other as of late.”
Cecil gave a relaxed nod before he rose from his own chair and headed towards the bookshelves, distancing himself so that he wouldn't provide any further distractions. Her pensive gaze still lingered on him, however, and it wasn't until the squire walked out of her view before the trainee mage quietly resumed her work.
He wondered down each index section, not looking for anything in particular. The squire would usually read a book on swordplay or strategic tactics so that he could at least be learning proper form and game theory during his occasional visits here. But he just couldn't focus today, his mind too occupied with thoughts of tomorrow onwards.
His fingers thumbing through the rows, a familiar title happened to catch Cecil's eyes and he stretched up in order to remove a hefty book from the second top shelf.
“'A Court Jester's Guide to Arcane Terminology and Pronunciation, Vol. III...'” he read out loud and a fond smile spread across his face as the squire began recalling Kain's last visit into town.
Eyes glazed over in sheer boredom, Kain had been far from happy spending his lone holiday inside the public library. But since he also wanted to spend time with Rosa, this was the place he had to be. However, the page had never been one to take things lying down and so to help quicken the pace, the complete novice had attempted to tutor the apprentice in the ways of magic.
Picking up this exact copy from the her pile, his friend had opened the book with ignorant aplomb, took a moment's glance inside, and then his expression froze up in that instant. He hurriedly flipped through the pages, all the while babbling about unrelated subjects matters, and went through the whole volume without finding a single sentence that was remotely comprehensible, the contents of the grimoire looking little more than mere gibberish to him. Cecil had a difficult time stiffening his laughter. He empathized with Kain on a certain level, as if feeling his own manly pride was being publicly castrated, yet he still found the show his friend was putting on highly entertaining.
Of course, it stopped being fun as soon as the trainee mage posed the same challenge at him.
Being smart enough to know his limits, Cecil had tried changing the subject but the page wouldn't let him, vengefully wanting another scapegoat to share in the same embarrassment. Through both Rosa's deceptively gentle coaxing and Kain's unbridled jeering, he was quickly pressured into trying his hand at it and the ensuing spurs of merriment followed, so spontaneous and carefree that the librarian had warned them several times before they were finally asked to leave. At the very least, the squire could say with confidence that he did a better job than Kain had done. Though in the end, Rosa was the only one who received a good laugh at both of their expense.
His hand stopped flipping through the pages in reminiscence; that had been the last time all three of them were together. Kain's holiday ended the following day, and he along with his fellow cadets were recalled back to the castle.
Including the four months before his last visit, a full year had gone by since their trio was cut down to a duo. And now like his friend before him, Cecil had become of age as well. By tomorrow afternoon, he too will be officially enlisted into Baron's military academy.
Though their personalities had clashed more often than not, Cecil knew deep down that they both upheld the same principles and sought after the same goals. This in turn led to their endless tale at one-upmanship; the squire never wanting to fall one step behind while Kain held no intentions for him to ever pull out ahead. But ever since his best friend advanced on, daily training sessions had felt like grueling labor, mechanical and slow. And then there was Rosa whom he hadn't been seeing much of as well.
Truthfully, it had been lonely; even though it was just single physical barrier which separated the teenage boys, even though she was still close enough for him to be able to reach out and touch her. Without those two in his life, Cecil only felt half as good. Like he regressed to his earliest years before he had any real friends to call his own, back when his heritage was forever placed into question as nothing more than the king's stray orphan.
The squire shut his eyes, lowered the book in his hands and leaned against the shelf, trying to shift his focus on less destructive
thoughts. Thinking back, it was around this time one year ago when Rosa had also gone absent from the archery range following the page's departure.
A refined, proper skill for any noblewoman to possess, her parents had first believed she practiced for the sport of it and Cecil had thought the same. It wasn't until last year's ceremony did they all discover how serious she was, having full intentions to follow up on her training and join the ranks of Baron's military. She was a natural with the bow, so much so that her archery instructor had broken protocol and fought hard for her active admission, but her family wielded considerable influence and they easily closed the door on that prospect.
Cecil released a deep exhale; he had received quite a bit of heat from Rosa's mother on that day, accusing him of being chiefly responsible for how her daughter ended up, and at times he couldn't help but think she might be right. If Rosa had never gotten to know the two boys, perhaps she wouldn't have such lofty aspirations that were well below her station.
At least when it came to Rosa's well-being, both he and her family were on the same wavelength. The squire also didn't want his friend exposed out in the battlefield, he never wanted to see her get hurt.
It wasn't long before the issue with her parents was resolved with a quick compromise. Upon discovering a moderate deposition for white magic, they allowed her to pursue an education in magecraft so long as her duties to the kingdom remained limited upon graduation.
From then on, Rosa had stopped coming by to see the squire at the training grounds and had quit archery altogether, her efforts focused entirely on her new chosen career path. She seemed to spend every waking moment within the confides of this library or with her private tutor taking supplementary lessons. For her to even rank a passing grade in her classes was something of a miracle, a true testament to all her dedication, though she still continued struggling with the material and to keep up with students who have several more years of tutelage within the field.
And while the whole town will soon be celebrating, she'll be here alone toiling away, yielding not a day's relaxation even for his sake.
Turning towards a specific direction, the squire stared straight in between the thin gaps of the bookshelves and saw the distant figure of Rosa who was still seated, her table not as cluttered nor the stacks of books half as high as they had been when she first started out. It was a clear sign of her progress over the pass year yet he still had to wonder, not for the first time, why she felt the need to push herself so hard and do all of this.
With Kain, he could understand since his friend carried the proud knight's legacy of his forefathers before him. Cecil also held a similar conviction. He wanted to repay the king in any way and to never bring shame upon his name, so that the monarch wouldn't know a moment's regret for choosing to raise him as his own.
He just didn't know what to make of Rosa's decision. She had a loving family who thought foremost of her welfare and who had provided her an array of future opportunities. There should be a grander stage for her to perform in, something far better than the harsh and humble lifestyle she was settling for and enduring.
Cecil noted the quiet inactivity and looked across the room, seeing Rosa forlorn with her gaze lying elsewhere. He followed her line of sight towards one of the windows which offered a majestic, if not foreboding view of Castle Baron and saw that it was raining. Just a small drizzle really, but noticing it made him acutely aware of the drastic temperature drop and cool humidity which now occupied the once stuffy room.
He should really rest now and prepare for the big day tomorrow. But the squire didn't move from his spot and continued to whittle the time away, thinking instead on what might happen should the rain grow into a storm unlike any the city of Baron had ever seen. Perhaps the downpour will cause the moat to overflow and make access into the castle impossible, thereby causing a few days delay in the inductee ceremony.
No. Why stop there?
Maybe the storm will be one of epic proportions which causes a definite cancellation for the entire year. But now that he thought about it, a flood of that magnitude will probably reach all the way into the city as well. For both of them to live stranded inside this building for the remainder of their days; things could get a tad difficult but it's still perfectly doable. He could be quite resourceful when the need arises and the minor necessities could surely be solved by Rosa and the mystic mysteries of her learned magic.
Having thrown all rationale aside, Cecil continued his wayward musings. The opinion of his peers, the full expectations of the king, just being here with her made him care for none of it. It would be nice if they could simply stay like this.
“Isn't it about time..?”
Though her voice was just above a whisper, it carried clearly across the empty room. Cecil's eyes regained their focus back to reality. Even if he should forget himself completely, Rosa surely wouldn't allow him to. Still, it had felt nice to entertain those thoughts if even for a little while, “Yeah... You're right.”
He randomly returned the book onto the shelves while the trainee mage rose out from her cluttered desk and together they walked towards the library entrance.
The trip was short, not lasting even a minute. The squire opened the door yet couldn't bring himself to step outside, and so he remained standing between the entryway. Downcast, Rosa said, “Forgive me, Cecil. Even though this is suppose to be your big moment, I won't even be there to celebrate it with you.”
“Well, don't think too much of it. This is really all just for formality's sake... Also, your workload is heavy enough as is. And I would hate for you to overburden yourself on my account,” he honestly replied, for he felt his words would betray him if he had strayed anywhere else.
The sound and scent of raindrops beckoned him away, but he couldn't leave things the way they were. And so following his impulses, he hugged Rosa, much more than what could be deemed platonic or friendly and bordering on downright inappropriate. His mind finally caught up to what his body doing and blared that he could still pull back now and casually play it off. But they won't be seeing each other for many years to come, so he should be entitled to this much, shouldn't he?
“I'm sorry, Cecil...” she apologized for the second time and he felt those naive thoughts breaking into a sound of shattered glass. But before the feelings of rejection could begin sinking in, Rosa leaned into his embrace and continued, “To use your leaving as an excuse. We could have spent many more days together had I acted sooner. So to make up for lost time, this will have to do...”
And before the squire could fully register what was happening, she closed the tiny distance left between them and kissed him chastely. His face erupted, her bold action leaving him feeling hot and heady.
Rosa placed a hand against his chest and gently, yet somehow firmly pushed the dysfunctional squire outside while she took one step back herself, the threshold of the door definitively separating them. She stood for several seconds with her eyes locked on the floor and her cheeks flushed in scarlet embarrassment. Then, her fingers intertwined together below her waist and she raised her head, sending him off with a warm, supportive smile, “Congratulations.”
**********
The faint sound of puddle drops can still be heard even as Cecil slowly opens his eyes, not realizing he had them closed this whole time. He places a hand over his face and rubs his temple to try shaking off his weariness, “Only a dream..? Just a faraway memory...”
The dark knight sees that he's still sitting atop of the white chocobo, though it is no longer in motion and lies resting on the stone cavern floor. Rydia is also relaxing a few meters away, her back to him with arms propped along both sides while her feet lightly splash into the nearby pond. Patches of light leak through the cracks of the high ceiling above and shimmer down, playing on the water's surface as it softly shines and glistens.
Cecil takes in this brief respite and allows the well of sadness to wash over him, his hand fingering the empty jewelry box in his pocket.
“... No... even if everything else is lost, surely there will come a time where I can return, at least for her...”
It's the only future he can possibly believe in; even if he comes back to a place where nothing is the same, even if the passage of years erodes all of her love for him away.
He sinks his emotions deep within. At any rate, he can't be showing again such a hapless face, “Sorry, Rydia. Have I kept you waiting?”
Startled, she snaps her head towards him then shakes it in reply, “It hasn't been that long. And anyways, it's not really your fault.”
The summoner points forward, across the pond at what looks to be a campsite just up ahead.
As the two draw near, they can see the dull red embers of the smothered campfire and Rydia wrinkles her nose at the smell of burnt fish loafing in the air. A rustle is heard from inside the tent and soon a figure steps out, studying them inquisitively. Without a doubt, this is the same dangerous man that had been described by the merchant.
Judging from his iron-gray hair and bottle-coke spectacles, he looks to be in his early 60's. His hairstyle is quite bizarre and along with his pointed beard, it gives his head a distinct, triangle-like shape. In his hand holds a wooden scepter fashioned in the form of a griffin and on his person is a purple antique robe. Based on those two features as well as his outdated attire, it's fairly certain this old man is a traditional, longstanding magician.
“Still, it's odd...”
This is their first meeting yet somehow the dark knight can recognize the person before him. It then strikes Cecil as he recalls seeing several illustrations of this man inside the library grimoires.
“Pardon me, good sir, but would your name happen to be Tellah? As in the great sage Tellah of Mysidia?”
The old man nods, “The very same, though I haven't been referred to as such in a very long while. It's quite surprising that someone like you would know of me.”
“Yes, I've heard your name in passing mention from a dear friend of mine who studies the arcane arts.”
“And you yourself would be a mercenary, am I correct?” Tellah inquires after setting his eyes on the dark knight's sword. The sage's attention then shifts to Rydia, his left hand adjusting the spectacles on his face as he continues in a profound whisper, “And this child...”
Cecil takes half a step forward, obscuring the sage's view of his ward as he responses, “Ahh... It's my duty to protect her and see her safe passage into the kingdom of Damcyan. However, I hear the way is blocked..?”
A single beat passes before Tellah lets his arm drop to his side and addresses the dark knight, “That is so. A terrible sea creature dwells deep within the gorge ahead and assaults any who dares enter its territory. Could the dead whisper such secrets, the foolhardy caravans which have come before you would attest to this fact. It would be wise of you to venture no further.”
“Thank you for the warning. Unfortunately, we cannot afford to heed your advice.”
“Even knowing the dangers you still intend to proceed?” Tellah questions. Pondering the matter silently, he then speaks, “Then if you would, allow me to join you. I believe the both of us working together will be enough to thwart the beast.”
Seeing merit in their partnership, Cecil nods his consent and moves onward, however, the sage quickly stops him with an outstretched hand, “Not this way. A direct assault on the creature will prove suicidal. Please leave your belongings here and come with me.”
With that said, Tellah takes a separate path leading to higher ground, an unexpected detour away from their intended destination. Uncertain, Cecil nevertheless follows the sage's guidance and soon enough the group is on their way to the unseen perils which lie ahead.
Theme + Number: Town #4, Calling #18, Gambling #82
Claim: Cecil Harvey
Characters/Pairings included: Cecil, Rydia, Rosa, Tellah
Rating: K
Warnings: Nothing yet
Summary: The calm before the storm. As the two make ready to set out, reality finally sets in for Cecil as he begins realizing the full extent his new conviction carries.
As always, big props goes to Dr Facer taking the time to betaread this chapter.
Index
"Quotes" = Dialogue
"Quotes & Italics" = Thoughts
Bolded Words = Emphasis
*Abstract Wording* = Sound Effects
Paragraphs Full of Italics = Flashback Scene
**Asterisk** = Time Passes and/or Change of POV
-------------
“Cecil..?”
Not realizing he had stopped walking, the dark knight blinks and looks a few paces ahead to find Rydia looking back at him, her face a bit unsure as she asks, “Do you need help with some of that stuff?”
His discomfort weighing heavy, Cecil takes some time to readjust the large sack on his back before replying, “It's fine. Carrying only this much is easy enough.”
The dark knight strides on as if to prove the point and Rydia promptly follows. Indeed, he has little difficulty with the extra load on his shoulders for something else is causing him to strain. He fingers the flat bulge of his tunic, tracing over the small item inside his front pocket.
Contained within is the voucher's badge he had received from Marie yesterday. With it, he was free to purchase anything from the marketplace and the unpaid bills would be directly credited towards the inn's tab. All the dark knight had to do was flash the badge and the vendors gladly handed him whatever goods he wanted, no questions asked. Despite being a new face around town, they trusted him after only a single day, never suspecting the recent supplies bought were for his own selfish gains...
“So we're almost done, right?” Rydia questions while looking up from besides him.
A long, decisive pause, then Cecil takes out the badge and rips it apart with both hands, watching as the scattered pieces fall victim to the wind, “Yeah... just one last stop to make.”
They continue walking down the road and soon enough arrive in front of a place called Fuu Liten, the largest store within the shopping district of Kaipo. The dark knight can tell from the extravagant outside decor that business was prosperous. He had passed by here frequently while running errands for the inn, yet he could never bring himself to actually step inside and complete a task he knew needed to be done. That is until now.
An overhead bell sounds upon their entrance and he notices Rydia's eyes brighten in fascination at the huge variety of commodities that fill the long sections and shelves of the store. From handy tools and medicines to fine armory to elegant cloths and dazzling jewelry, just about everything can be found here.
A short, potty man from behind the corner counter looks from across the room and leisurely makes his way towards them, his beady eyes betraying the disarming smile across his face as he greets, “Ah, welcome. Just what can I do for you today, stranger?”
Cecil takes a brief glance to his right and sees Rydia absently walking on, going further into the shop as she continues to browse its contents with open wonder.
“It's just as well,” the dark knight thinks. It will be a bit easier on him if she's not around to see this. He turns to the merchant, “I'm looking to make a trade.”
“Oh really?” the salesman inquires. Cecil sedately reaches into his inner folds and pulls out the same black box he's been carrying with him ever since he left castle Baron. With a flick of his finger, the lid pops open and reveals a gorgeous engagement ring, the same one he planned for so long to offer to Rosa. The merchant takes the ring out and brings it up, twisting and turning it to the light, “Quite the fancy trinket you have here. This gemstone... sapphire is it? A stellar blue hue like this can only come from the mines of Mythril. It's optimally cut with an attractive design, even the band is fully ornamented. So you're willing to sell this lovely piece?”
The dark knight gives a dim nod and the merchant's eyes narrow in deep thought. Then, he brashly states, “I'll give you 35,500 Gil for it.”
Cecil's face instantly darkens, “You can't be serious..! If you can discern so much from a mere glance, then it's impossible for you to be ignorant of the ring's true value.”
With a knowing smirk, the merchant replies, “I'm very much aware. However, my price still stands and isn't up for bargaining. Take it or leave it.”
“If those are my two options then the choice is clear,” Cecil responds as he snatches the ring back and marches down the store to fetch Rydia. However, the merchant's sly voice follows after him.
“Of course. Feel free to peddle your wares someplace else, stranger, but I think we both know you'll be back here sure enough. Not to be boastful, but my quaint little shop is the most successful you'll find within the trading circle of Kaipo. None of the local vendors will even come close to matching my opening offer. And while there are traveling merchants who may have the necessary funds for a fairer trade... well, unlucky for you, no one has come to do business here as of late, not since the recent migration troubles have cropped up,” the merchant needlessly explains and Cecil pauses, already aware of these issues as well as another, more serious problem the salesman had addressed: transportation.
The dark knight had been relying on the established hovercraft route to traverse the desert, that is until he had heard about the town's situation. He tried gathering info from the locals yet they remained just as unaware, or to be more precise, uninformed of the details. It's not surprising really, because if rumors regarding the barricaded underground footpath are true, that would mean all forms of travel and communications between Kaipo and Damcyan are effectively cut off.
Having given enough time for his words to sink in, the merchant nonchalantly adds, “I'd also imagine it's in your best interest to decide quickly. Wouldn't want to risk causing an unnecessary scene, now would we?”
“... What would you know about that?” Cecil questions evenly.
The merchant replies with a mild shrug of his shoulders, “Just a few things you overhear from the grapevine. We live in a small town, stranger, so word travels real fast around these parts.”
The dark knight falls silent; he was afraid something like this might happen. Since early childhood, he has always been the object of various stares due to his white hair and unearthly light complexion. But Rydia has even more vibrant, striking features which actively capture the eyes of all those around, and the two together make for an unmistakable pair amidst any crowd. He should have realized that news of them as well as yesterday's disturbance would spread like wildfire within this remote, peaceful town.
“So, what exactly are you scheming? Do you plan to turn us in?”
The merchant dramatically throws his hands up in front of himself, “Surely not! But as a law-binding citizen, it's my duty to cooperate with the proper authorities should they happen upon my doorstep, you understand? Although with the right incentive, I can be persuaded to... neglect, the more colorful details regarding my patrons' illustrious background.”
Unamused by his theatrics, the dark knight clarifies, “Speaking frankly, you'll overlook us if I accept your offer. A deal which amounts to little more than barely concealed bribery.”
“Wherever did you learn such foul terms? But if you want to be direct about it, then yes,” the merchant says with a grotty grin, “The allure of riches can make even the most upstanding men forget themselves after all. So it's only natural if I too fell victim to such selective memory loss.”
His mouth thinning, Cecil seriously considers just leaving on principle regardless of the consequences. However, perhaps sensing the mood change, the merchant smoothly shifts his sales pitch.
“Well, if you're having second thoughts about parting with such fine jewelry, then I do have something else in mind,” he says while his gaze lowers, analyzing the weapon at Cecil's side, “Your sword... it's military-issued, forged from the furnaces of Baron, correct? A regular of mine happens to be an esteemed weapons' collector who pays handsomely for quality brands found within my inventory, and that blade will surely meet his satisfaction. Why, I'll be willing to go as high as 22,000 Gil for it. A generous offer, wouldn't you agree?”
Cecil looks down, removes the sheathe sword from his belt and holds it by the scabbard in his left hand. The merchant is right of course. Despite its slightly-worn edge, he's willing to pay a price roughly equivalent to that of a blacksmith's commission fee. It's unlikely the dark knight can acquire a better deal anywhere else, and the amount will be enough to cover all the expenses he has incurred. Most of all, he wouldn't have to sell the ring: the treasure he holds most dear.
He continues staring at the sword's distinguished hilt. His former status and power, the national recognition of his lordly caliber, and most of all the bestowed honor of having served the kingdom and his king, everything he ever was is embedded into this sword. But the decorated hilt, those pretty and petty things like titles and glorified deeds, can't wipe clean a blade polished with immoral death and suffering. There's nothing more he wanted than to cast his weapon, the symbol of Baron's pride, aside and be rid of it forever.
“So why can't I..?”
Between the cross-guards of his sword, Cecil's focus involuntarily falls beyond the blade and happens upon the small figure of his ward. Still in the midst of browsing, Rydia stops upon catching his gaze from far across the room and returns it with a perplexed look.
His eyes lower as a scoff escapes his mouth, thinking to himself how foolish he's being; just what is he doing? It's too late now for take-backs or regrets: his choice already made what feels like a lifetime ago.
Wordlessly, he extends the hand which holds the engagement ring. Taken slightly aback, the salesman grabs hold of the ring yet is met with unexpected resistance as the dark knight's grip tightens, not letting it go. Cecil raises his head and clearly states, “But I'm only letting you hold onto this.”
The merchant crocks an eyebrow, needing only a moment to understand his meaning, “Oh? So you're willing to buy the ring back are you? Quite an odd way of conducting business, stranger. And might I ask, just when can I be expecting the date of collection?”
“... For however long it takes.”
“My oh my, waiting for a day that may never even come. Such highly unappealing terms right from the offset. If I were foolish enough to accept, it would leave me in an awkward position, a terribly tight spot indeed... It's something I'd expect due compensation for,” the merchant's hand slowly rubs his unkempt beard while his eyes thin to mere slits in a calculated show of appraising the deal. Feeling his act has drawn out long enough, the merchant sticks out his hand: all 5 fingers outstretched. He then adds with a toothy smirk, “Ah..! And this is quintuple the amount of my own retail price, mind you.”
“That's fine,” Cecil replies without a shred of hesitation that renders the merchant speechless, not thinking his ludicrous offer would even be remotely accepted. He gawks at the dark knight for several seconds before bursting into loud, obnoxious laughter.
“Bwahahahaahahahaa!! A-ahoohohoo! Y-You definitely are one of a kind, stranger..!” the merchant wheezes out, one arm clutching his stomach while the other hand wipes a stray tear from his eye. Cecil bites back his inner cheek and takes in a prolonged breathe. He has never considered himself to be a particularly violent person, yet the man before him is definitely testing the thresholds of his tolerance. The merchant manages to settle down after awhile and continues, “You do realize that while the gemstone set within this ring is indeed rare, it's not so valuable as to justify such a ridiculous price.”
Growing forlorn, Cecil shakes his head in disagreement, “Even if there's another bearing a similar quality and shine, something like this can never be so readily replaced...
… Because this was the one, the only ring meant for her. But to relinquish it for even a moment… how could I? Even though Rosa may never know, to betray her so... Just what rights do I have to her now..?”
The merchant takes a good, long look at the dark knight, as if seeing him for the first time, before answering, “... Alright. If you're fool
enough to accept such an offer, then I'd imagine you'll be fool enough to actually see it through. But don't keep me waiting for too long; I'd like to enjoy the early retirement after all.”
With a smile that isn't completely tarnished with deceitful trickery, the salesman extends his right hand and Cecil looks down at it, not at all expecting this crooked merchant to abide by such an old tradition. He grasps the outstretched hand and the two men shake firmly, sealing the deal.
They walk over to the store counter in order to complete the transaction and Rydia, who has been keeping her distance these past few minutes, soon joins them. With orderly practice, the salesman begins counting the Gil and distributing them into two separate pouches while the dark knight vaguely looks on.
“You don't seem too happy,” his ward observes. Cecil glances at her for a short while, then decides it's better to speak of the other, less personal issue that has just entered his mind.
“I was just thinking. You remember what I said about the caretakers from the Miran Inn?” the dark knight inquires and Rydia nods, “The money we have now can go a long way in helping with their present financial crisis. But after last night's incident, it's possible they might not want to accept our aid, and since we'll need to be leaving town soon, there won't be another opportunity should they turn us away.”
“... Well... There is something we could do, but you probably won't like the idea,” she says after a bit of thought and Cecil listens with an open ear, “We can try asking this man for his help again.”
At the mention of him, or perhaps it was at the prospect of earning more easy money, the merchant finishes tallying up the coins and inquires, “What's this I hear? You have something else in mind?”
“Actually, we were wondering if you can do us a favor?” Rydia pipes up.
The merchant leans in and speaks to the girl, a bit patronizingly, “My favors don't come free, little missy. But if you're looking to make a deal, then there's no sense not to hear it out.”
“It's the people at the inn. We never got to pay them back yet and were hoping you can do it for us somehow.”
“Ah, a jobber's run is it? Not something I'm usually called upon, but still simple enough. And what would be the amount of this fine donation?”
Before she can answer, the dark knight interrupts his ward by asking, “Just to be sure, Rydia. Are you certain with what you said before? That we don't need to worry about transportation?”
The girl cocks her head, probably recalling their discussion back in front of Kaipo's chocobo ranch, “Well, yeah. There's no problem if all we need is something like that.”
Though still a bit skeptical, Cecil nevertheless takes the smaller of the two pouches and pockets it, leaving a full bag of Gil on the counter. The merchant raises an eyebrow in mild surprise, “Blowing over half your earnings already? You certainly are a man loose with money, stranger.”
“My only real concern is whether or not such a large sum will be received in its entirety,” the dark knight replies with a pointed look.
The salesman crosses his arms and stands a little straighter, his bearings reflecting much pride for his work, “Having entrusted me with this job, you can consider the money to be as good as delivered. Now, moving matters along, how many figures can I be expecting in return?”
“Figures?” the girl echoes.
“My cut, little missy. The fee for my services.”
“Oh. Well, how much would be good?”
“How does fifty-” the merchant unreasonably suggests but buckles under the dark knight's lethal warning glare. The salesman nervously coughs into his hand, then he offers with surprising modesty, “...five percent of gratuity sound..?”
Rydia fixes a hesitant glance towards Cecil and he gives a small motion of approval. However, she seems to have taken his gesture completely the wrong way as she says, “You wanted fifteen? Okay.”
The salesman instantly beams with delight while the dark knight is thrown off and hastily tries to rectify, “He already agreed to a smaller share, Rydia, so there's absolutely no reason to give him any more than that.”
The girl mulls over his words for all of two seconds before raising a hand and waving his comment away, “It's not all that big of a difference, right? And besides, he's been a big help to us all this time, so it's good to give him back a little extra as thanks.”
The merchant wiggles his finger in mock reproach and chimes in, “For shame, stranger. You should be setting a better example for the little missy here. For her to know more in the ways of civil courtesy than you do. Tragic..! A true tragedy indeed.”
“Yep!” his ward readily chirps and nods twice, as if one time isn't enough to convey her over-eagerness.
Cecil glowers yet doesn't try to argue the point, knowing Rydia was at least partially right and that he was just being petty. The amount of money had never been a real issue since they can get by well enough even with the leftover funds. It was just incredibly vexing when he had received so little for the engagement ring, as if to say that was all it's worth, “Not to mention...”
The dark knight warily eyes the greedy merchant and finds it increasingly difficult to fight down his bitterness over handing this crook more money than he rightly deserves. Though highly reluctant, Cecil manages a stiff nod.
“Knew you'd come around to it, stranger, and I must give thanks for providing never-ending wonders for my business,” the merchant says with pure mirth, his demeanor never chipper, “Tell you what. As a special bonus, I'll even throw in a freebie, a small something of the little missy's choosing.”
“You mean I can have anything I want?” Rydia asks, a ting of childish hope in her tone, while Cecil's face is full of skepticism, knowing there has to be some kind of catch to his offer.
“That's right. But only one item around this section here.”
She presses a finger against her chin and gives a long, thoughtful pause, then gives a deflated response, “On second thought, forget it.”
“Hey now! You don't believe me? I'm a man of my word, little missy.”
“But what if I pick something that's really valuable or expensive? You wouldn't like that, right?”
“Wha-ha-ha..! Oh, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about there.” the salesman boosts and Cecil can now see why. With prices all marked under 100 Gil, it would be impossible for this cheapskate to lose anything of value here.
The girl ducks her head and looks up at him with wide, brimming eyes, “Really..? Are you sure?”
The merchant nods with great confidence, “Just go ahead and say whatever it is you like.”
“Then I want that back,” Rydia replies right away, much to Cecil's surprise as she drops all pretenses and whips a finger at what's inside the man's pocket.
The merchant blinks dumbly, “...Eh?”
“The ring. Give it back.”
“... Ah..! You seem to be mistaken about something, little missy. The choices you have are limited to the merchandise found on these shelves.”
“You didn't say anything like that before,” she accurately states.
“Not in those exact words, no. But that's what I meant.”
“All you said was that I can have anything in this section for free, nothing about where I can get it from. And since we're all around here, then I don't see why that ring can't be included.”
The merchant replies in a stained voice, “Like I just mentioned, it was a tiny misunderstanding...”
“You're just making up excuses now and going back on your word, even though you swore you wouldn't.”
“Well, yes... I mean no..! I wasn't-”
“So how was I wrong? Especially when you're the one being dishonest and not owing up to what they said.”
The merchant turns his head up and away, looking as if he's having a serious migraine, and Cecil might have felt a twitch of sympathy if this were happening to a more honest person. But the salesman's dilemma is short-lived as he takes notice of the dark knight and suddenly recalls, “Ah yes, how can I forget..! I've already promised your companion here exclusive rights to this particular piece.”
“... A promise..?” the girl quietly repeats, her face softening.
Seeing a chance to walk away with his dignity, the merchant pounces on it, “That's right, little missy. My previous agreement with him is iron-clad, takes top priority and can't be voided.”
The girl furrows her eyes brows, full of doubt, yet is unable to give a good response. Knowing the relentless merchant will simply drag this argument out, Cecil steps up and interjects, “You don't need to go so far, Rydia.”
She starts sulking, still not willing to let the matter go, “But it was so pretty, and it's important to you. I thought you really wanted it back.”
The dark knight stares at his ward, realizing he must have looked awfully pitiful if she was able to deduce this much. He lets out a quiet breathe and answers earnestly, “I do. More than anything. And that's why I need to get it back myself or else it won't mean a thing.”
“Still...”
“It's alright. What you've done already is more than enough,” Cecil says, and he finds himself meaning it.
“It's as he says, little missy. A cheeky brat like you should just to sit tight and listen to your elders on this one,” the merchant lectures as he shamelessly rallies behind the dark knight. Cecil glances sideways and grimaces, his good feelings quickly diminishing with each chummy slap of the shoulders made by the other man, “So now that you know better, you'll need to be selecting something else from my lineup.”
“... That's okay. There's nothing here that I really want anyways,” Rydia states truthfully after taking a quick glance over the multitude of lousy knickknacks. The salesman takes a long gander at her, scratching his beard while keeping one eye closed as he heavily considers.
“Fair enough. Then how about leaving the decision to me and see if I can choose an item that will strike your fancy,” the merchant says. He then walks with purpose and the two of them follow suit, wondering what he has in mind. While moving through the center aisle, the salesman's hand hovers over the lower right-side shelf and teasingly dips just above some of the merchandise they happen to pass by, “So, I'm guessing... this should be... the one... right... about... Here.”
Picking up a rather strange piece from the accessory area, the salesman holds it out with both hands and Rydia releases an audible, bated breathe, her eyes twinkling. This was a little too good of a guess, or so Cecil figures. The merchant must have also been paying careful attention to the girl ever since they stepped foot inside the store. Knowing him though, it was most likely to make sure she wasn't shoplifting.
She reaches out to touch it, yet her fingers jerk back as she remembers herself and casts a timid glance at the dark knight. Cecil gives a reassuring nod that puts his ward at ease and she gladly takes it without further reservations.
Rydia places the oversized ornament atop her head and begins fiddling with the back of it, further tangling up strands of wild green hair in the process. Cecil dubiously looks on and is just about to say something when he hears the secure sound of a clip fastening. After a few quick swipes to flatten out her hair, Rydia twirls for him and cheerfully asks, “So how is it? Doesn't it look nice?”
The dark knight can only stare at the tacky hairpin with his mouth ajar, honestly not knowing what the hell it was until just a few seconds ago, “Yeah. That's, um, very... eye-catching...”
The hairpin is azure colored, much like Kain's armor yet is a couple of shades lighter than her own indigo eyes, and resembles a flower or a star or something of that nature. It's well-crafted and looks to be made from fine materials, yet one might begin having doubts of its quality upon discovering the multiple times its price tag has been slashed down. He can tell from the layers of collected dust that the accessory has been a hard sell despite only now being worth 450 Gil. And with a pointlessly large size that covers one-third of Rydia's entire head, it's no great wonder why it remained on the shelves. The dark knight squints his eyes as if that would magically transform his vision of the ornament, struggling to find at least one appealing aspect to it, “Perhaps it distracts away from her emerald hair? If just a tiny bit, maybe..? ... not.
… Well, I suppose it's fine,” Cecil concedes as he lays witness to the infectious smile still adorning her face. If a simple hairpin can bring back a bit of joy into this girl's life, then he really has no reason to complain.
Concluding their business here, the two travelers make ready to leave yet the merchant speaks up once again, “A word of advice. If you're thinking of taking the old trading route north, then you best be wary. Recently, those traveling there turn up missing, while the returning few speak tales of a crazed old man who bars the path through the underground waterway. It would be a crying shame for me if you ended up like many of the others and became just another lost statistic.”
Grateful for this tidbit of info, Cecil gives the merchant a final nod, “Needless to say we'll stay on guard. Until then.”
“Be seeing you, stranger. And of course, the little missy as well. I'll be awaiting your return at anytime.”
They exit the store and continue to walk until the two reach the outskirts of Kaipo. Even though they have a set road ahead and are better equipped, journeying through the vast desert regions on foot is an endeavor Cecil would care not to repeat. And so, he allows his ward free reign while he stands off to the side and waits.
Eyes half-lidded, Rydia begins by breaking her stillness and twirling in place, deliberately slow in her movements as she swings her arms freely about while dragging one foot across the sand. After completing a full turn, she halts to a pageant stop. Then, she stomps the heel of her right foot once. Twice. Unbelievably, the ground actually quakes under the small girl's steps and grains of sand lift up a bit before they settle neatly back down, forming a variety of foreign runic markings within the circle she had made. Then as if overcome with sheer exhaustion, she slumps to the ground, her head bowed down with both knees and palms flat against the sand.
Several beats pass and Cecil starts to worry, fearing something might have gone wrong. He takes a step forward but instantly retracts back as the rune sparks to life. Rydia's eyes snap forward just before a bright yellow flash raises from the ground and engulfs her whole.
The dark knight shields his face with his right hand and squirts into the light, trying to make out where his young ward is. The brightness soon fades and in its place stands a white chocobo, seeming to have risen straight out of nothing, with Rydia casually sitting sideways on top of it. She greets the giant bird affectionately, stroking its long, feathery neck and it responds by nuzzling its beak into her cheek.
“Amazing... Summoners indeed. The name certainly suits them well.” Cecil thinks with awe and Rydia, who had been gazing down at him with bright expectation, smiles wider upon seeing his agape reaction, “Then again, maybe it's not so surprising. At least I'm not being blown back a few dozen meters and scrambling for my life this time around.”
Though he's unfamiliar with their species, he does know of one discrete, special trait based on its color. Like Troia's famous black chocobos, this one is another type of rare breed that, while unknown to him, possesses unique terrain abilities amongst its kind. The dark knight notes that the bird is fairly small, only about half the size of a common yellow chocobo, and thinks maybe it's a characteristic of its breed or that it has yet to reach full maturity. Unlike the docile mounts in Baron's stables or the malnourished ones he had seen earlier in the farming ranch of Kaipo, this chocobo is very robust and seems to be far more energetic and animated even in its idle stance.
Glad that he was right to believe in his ward, Cecil transfers the sack he's carrying, however, the chocobo jolts forward before he can securely tie down their belongings. He moves to pick up some of the fallen supplies and walks towards the giant bird yet it promptly trots away, “What the..?”
He takes a step forward and the chocobo again takes to two steps back. Several attempts at getting closer ends in failure and leaves the dark knight standing with a heavy scowl. Then suddenly, he makes a bold leap at the bird yet it manages to hop away, shaking off the excess baggage on its back in retaliation. He takes this moment to look at his ward who sits there, her face observant and unconcerned as she watches the antics unfold.
“Isn't there something you can do, Rydia?”
“Do..?” she echoes, confused, “Like what?”
“Well for one, can't you make this chocobo more obedient? We need to use him for traveling after all, and that won't be possible if he's acting this wild and rambunctious. Not to mention...” Cecil starts to say but trails off upon noticing the unpleasant look on his ward's face.
“I can't make her do anything. She answers my call and listens to me because she's my friend.” the summoner acutely replies, “If you want Coco to behave, then you can start by treating her more nicely.”
“So, respect others and they'll reply in kind..? Will that even work for this bird?”
Mimicking Rydia's earlier actions, Cecil starts by rubbing the plush underside of its fluffy neck but the chocobo doesn't take too kindly to the gesture. With its pointy beak, it swiftly pecks at his palm and causes the dark knight to flinch his hand away with a startled cry.
“She doesn't like to be touched so familiar-like by strangers,” Rydia states a bit too late, “But it's good. I think she's starting to warm up to you.”
Still squeezing his punctured wound numb, the dark knight says flatly, “I'm really not seeing it.”
“That's just 'cause you're not paying enough attention. It took me a long time too, but understanding her becomes real easy once you know what to look for.”
Suppressing his irritation, Cecil squats down and fumbles through their luggage in order to retrieve the gyashi greens. He had learned from Rosa that the herb is used as a key ingredient in the creation of the potion's series. But even on its own the aloe from its leaves can be used as a healing ointment which can clog up minor open wounds.
Just as he was about to apply the herb, the chocobo perks up and trots over to him. Cecil stares in disbelief before tentatively trying to pet it for a second time, but his hopes are stripped away once again as the unruly bird snatches the gyashi greens right out from his other hand.
“Hey-!” the dark knight shouts then snaps his mouth shut to keep from shouting any obscurities. Grabbing onto the other end, he gives a mighty tug which causes the herb to be split into two and sends him stumbling a few paces back. The chocobo wastes no time as it dips its neck and begins devouring the large supply of gyashi greens from the open sack. Cecil quickly stands over their luggage and tries shooing it away but the chocobo fights back in a ruffle of feathers, aggressively flapping its wings as it gives no quarter.
“Just so you know, you're not winning many points with Coco right now,” Rydia supplies. The dark knight shifts his focus towards her, mainly so that he wouldn't be glaring daggers at the damnable bird.
“Why is this chocobo even eating these greens anyway? Isn't its regular diet suppose to consist of carrots and other vegetables?”
“Hmm... I don't know about that. But she obviously likes the food you brought.”
He lets out a hefty sigh, “It just has to have expensive taste...”
“Yeah. She is kinda spoiled and likes to be pampered,” Rydia says and the chocobo coos in unabashed agreement. It begins making various motions with its wings and claws which grabs her undivided attention, and the summoner gives all sorts of affirmative nods in-between until she finally exclaims, “Oh, great news! Coco said she might reconsider carrying your stuff if you become her personal groomer.”
The dark knight stands there with an incredible look on his face as a dry desert breeze blows by, “... I'll have to decline.”
A disappointed frown appears on his ward's face, “You're not happy with it?”
“That's not exactly what I pictured my future occupation to be,” he concretely informs. Scraping together the leftover remains of his patience, Cecil barely manages a civilized request, “Rydia. Can you please try harder to reason with this choco- with Coco and get her to understand how vital her cooperation is?”
The summoner briskly nods in compliance. Scooting closer towards the front, she presses down then pats the wide, unoccupied space of its back but the chocobo merely turns its beak up in response. Rydia reaches out with both hands, takes hold of the its face and turns it back her way. Then she gets real close and starts rubbing their foreheads together as if direct contact will better convey her unspoken message. The chocobo stubbornly bristles, yet calms down after awhile until finally it appears to settle into the idea.
“Well... Coco believes you're really rude and think way too highly of yourself. But she at least likes your honesty, so she's willing to let you ride her this one time. 'Just don't get any funny ideas' she said.”
“I'll bear that in mind and keep idle hands from roaming,” Cecil responds, exasperated, as he wonders just how much creative liberty Rydia was taking in her role as translator. But true to her word, the chocobo gives him no further delays with the packing, so he can at least cross out the possibility that this was all just make-believe.
He hops on without incident and the two travelers resume their trek through the desert. It's been a surprisingly pleasant and smooth ride even without a saddle, and the sweltering sun doesn't seem nearly as harsh due to the constant headwind. For what feels like the first time in ages, the dark knight is able to slack back and relax, “I have to admit, Rydia, that Coco has been of great help. It's fortunate you were able to handle this situation.”
“Mm, it's no big deal. You can do it too,”
He gives a faint smile, “That's doubtful, since I don't have much talent for sorcery much less the mystics of summoning.”
“Oh, not that. I just meant being able to talk with her even without words. Though I guess things could have been a whole lot easier, but I'm just the same as you here.”
His eye brows wrinkling, Cecil has a hard time understanding, “Similar to me? In regards to what?”
“A link: by forming one with Coco we could do all kinds of things like read each other's mind. I haven't made a connection with her either,” the summoner states, then shakes her head and corrects herself, “Or it's more like I'm not allowed to.”
He blinks, remembering a time not too long ago where he had witnessed her magic firsthand, “How strange...
Why is that?”
“I don't really know, but that's just the way it's always been,” she says with a shrug before returning her gaze ahead, tilting her head skyward while doing so, “The feeling though and what it's like... It's life-changing, like exchanging a little piece of your entire being. But it's needless for us though, since no person born is ever really missing anything. That's why you have to give yourself up completely or else you'll be left with nothing but a hole in your heart... At least that was what mama had told me.”
The chocobo trots on, leaving behind only its footprints across the sand before they too are erased by a fell wind and vanish from all existence.
“..? What is it?” Rydia asks after turning her head back.
Cecil stares into her face, crease-less and lacking in any type of emotion. Her mouth is set into a fine line, no wet or wavering eyes, not even so much as a quiver had arisen in her voice. Nothing at all to suggest something might be amiss with her: and that's precisely the problem.
“This should be a good thing, right? So why does it feel otherwise..?
No... it's nothing,” the dark knight relies yet fails to reassure even himself, “... Am I just being pessimistic? But for her to speak of the past as if she never played any part in it... Can she already be alright with everything? Is it really so easy for her to forgive and forget..?”
The thought fills him both with hollow relief and vile disgust, because now he has less to feel guilty about.
Cecil lies his musings to rest and observes his surroundings, its simplicity far more preferred than fishing for questions he knows not the answers to.
The grains of sand hitting his skin. The breath of the desert. The heat of the sun. The white clouds overhead. The dry air.
Sitting here, relaxing. Doing nothing but sitting.
Lying back. Relaxing. Breathing.
…Calmly. Fading...
Weary...breathing...
…heavy
…fading...
…sleep...y...
…no...thing...
…not...
...a...
...thing...
**********
His vision grew blurry and when he blinked, the endless sand and vast skies collapsed into an enclosed space full of rustic brown, creamy tan, rainbow dots and man-made gray. This building, this place: it was an all too familiar scene that he shouldn't even be seeing. He looked around and found a familiar teenage girl occupying the same table opposite of him.
“Rosa..?” Cecil uttered, as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes. And like the pouring sand inside an hourglass, the weight of the consciousness lopsided and the images he had known to be true soon slipped into nothing more than remnants of a waking dream.
“You've been in a daze for so long that I was beginning to think you had departed from this world,” she teasingly remarked, then her expression shifted to one of mild sympathy, “Though I can imagine why. It must be rather boring, always sitting here with nothing to do but watch me study.”
“That's not true, or else I wouldn't have come in the first place,” he replied, not noticing the long hours which had flown by since his stay. A thought then struck him and the squire scratched his right cheek with a finger while looking down a bit abashed, “Or is this your subtle way of saying I'm just being a bother?”
“Not at all..! It's wonderful to have you here, especially since we've been seeing so little of each other as of late.”
Cecil gave a relaxed nod before he rose from his own chair and headed towards the bookshelves, distancing himself so that he wouldn't provide any further distractions. Her pensive gaze still lingered on him, however, and it wasn't until the squire walked out of her view before the trainee mage quietly resumed her work.
He wondered down each index section, not looking for anything in particular. The squire would usually read a book on swordplay or strategic tactics so that he could at least be learning proper form and game theory during his occasional visits here. But he just couldn't focus today, his mind too occupied with thoughts of tomorrow onwards.
His fingers thumbing through the rows, a familiar title happened to catch Cecil's eyes and he stretched up in order to remove a hefty book from the second top shelf.
“'A Court Jester's Guide to Arcane Terminology and Pronunciation, Vol. III...'” he read out loud and a fond smile spread across his face as the squire began recalling Kain's last visit into town.
Eyes glazed over in sheer boredom, Kain had been far from happy spending his lone holiday inside the public library. But since he also wanted to spend time with Rosa, this was the place he had to be. However, the page had never been one to take things lying down and so to help quicken the pace, the complete novice had attempted to tutor the apprentice in the ways of magic.
Picking up this exact copy from the her pile, his friend had opened the book with ignorant aplomb, took a moment's glance inside, and then his expression froze up in that instant. He hurriedly flipped through the pages, all the while babbling about unrelated subjects matters, and went through the whole volume without finding a single sentence that was remotely comprehensible, the contents of the grimoire looking little more than mere gibberish to him. Cecil had a difficult time stiffening his laughter. He empathized with Kain on a certain level, as if feeling his own manly pride was being publicly castrated, yet he still found the show his friend was putting on highly entertaining.
Of course, it stopped being fun as soon as the trainee mage posed the same challenge at him.
Being smart enough to know his limits, Cecil had tried changing the subject but the page wouldn't let him, vengefully wanting another scapegoat to share in the same embarrassment. Through both Rosa's deceptively gentle coaxing and Kain's unbridled jeering, he was quickly pressured into trying his hand at it and the ensuing spurs of merriment followed, so spontaneous and carefree that the librarian had warned them several times before they were finally asked to leave. At the very least, the squire could say with confidence that he did a better job than Kain had done. Though in the end, Rosa was the only one who received a good laugh at both of their expense.
His hand stopped flipping through the pages in reminiscence; that had been the last time all three of them were together. Kain's holiday ended the following day, and he along with his fellow cadets were recalled back to the castle.
Including the four months before his last visit, a full year had gone by since their trio was cut down to a duo. And now like his friend before him, Cecil had become of age as well. By tomorrow afternoon, he too will be officially enlisted into Baron's military academy.
Though their personalities had clashed more often than not, Cecil knew deep down that they both upheld the same principles and sought after the same goals. This in turn led to their endless tale at one-upmanship; the squire never wanting to fall one step behind while Kain held no intentions for him to ever pull out ahead. But ever since his best friend advanced on, daily training sessions had felt like grueling labor, mechanical and slow. And then there was Rosa whom he hadn't been seeing much of as well.
Truthfully, it had been lonely; even though it was just single physical barrier which separated the teenage boys, even though she was still close enough for him to be able to reach out and touch her. Without those two in his life, Cecil only felt half as good. Like he regressed to his earliest years before he had any real friends to call his own, back when his heritage was forever placed into question as nothing more than the king's stray orphan.
The squire shut his eyes, lowered the book in his hands and leaned against the shelf, trying to shift his focus on less destructive
thoughts. Thinking back, it was around this time one year ago when Rosa had also gone absent from the archery range following the page's departure.
A refined, proper skill for any noblewoman to possess, her parents had first believed she practiced for the sport of it and Cecil had thought the same. It wasn't until last year's ceremony did they all discover how serious she was, having full intentions to follow up on her training and join the ranks of Baron's military. She was a natural with the bow, so much so that her archery instructor had broken protocol and fought hard for her active admission, but her family wielded considerable influence and they easily closed the door on that prospect.
Cecil released a deep exhale; he had received quite a bit of heat from Rosa's mother on that day, accusing him of being chiefly responsible for how her daughter ended up, and at times he couldn't help but think she might be right. If Rosa had never gotten to know the two boys, perhaps she wouldn't have such lofty aspirations that were well below her station.
At least when it came to Rosa's well-being, both he and her family were on the same wavelength. The squire also didn't want his friend exposed out in the battlefield, he never wanted to see her get hurt.
It wasn't long before the issue with her parents was resolved with a quick compromise. Upon discovering a moderate deposition for white magic, they allowed her to pursue an education in magecraft so long as her duties to the kingdom remained limited upon graduation.
From then on, Rosa had stopped coming by to see the squire at the training grounds and had quit archery altogether, her efforts focused entirely on her new chosen career path. She seemed to spend every waking moment within the confides of this library or with her private tutor taking supplementary lessons. For her to even rank a passing grade in her classes was something of a miracle, a true testament to all her dedication, though she still continued struggling with the material and to keep up with students who have several more years of tutelage within the field.
And while the whole town will soon be celebrating, she'll be here alone toiling away, yielding not a day's relaxation even for his sake.
Turning towards a specific direction, the squire stared straight in between the thin gaps of the bookshelves and saw the distant figure of Rosa who was still seated, her table not as cluttered nor the stacks of books half as high as they had been when she first started out. It was a clear sign of her progress over the pass year yet he still had to wonder, not for the first time, why she felt the need to push herself so hard and do all of this.
With Kain, he could understand since his friend carried the proud knight's legacy of his forefathers before him. Cecil also held a similar conviction. He wanted to repay the king in any way and to never bring shame upon his name, so that the monarch wouldn't know a moment's regret for choosing to raise him as his own.
He just didn't know what to make of Rosa's decision. She had a loving family who thought foremost of her welfare and who had provided her an array of future opportunities. There should be a grander stage for her to perform in, something far better than the harsh and humble lifestyle she was settling for and enduring.
Cecil noted the quiet inactivity and looked across the room, seeing Rosa forlorn with her gaze lying elsewhere. He followed her line of sight towards one of the windows which offered a majestic, if not foreboding view of Castle Baron and saw that it was raining. Just a small drizzle really, but noticing it made him acutely aware of the drastic temperature drop and cool humidity which now occupied the once stuffy room.
He should really rest now and prepare for the big day tomorrow. But the squire didn't move from his spot and continued to whittle the time away, thinking instead on what might happen should the rain grow into a storm unlike any the city of Baron had ever seen. Perhaps the downpour will cause the moat to overflow and make access into the castle impossible, thereby causing a few days delay in the inductee ceremony.
No. Why stop there?
Maybe the storm will be one of epic proportions which causes a definite cancellation for the entire year. But now that he thought about it, a flood of that magnitude will probably reach all the way into the city as well. For both of them to live stranded inside this building for the remainder of their days; things could get a tad difficult but it's still perfectly doable. He could be quite resourceful when the need arises and the minor necessities could surely be solved by Rosa and the mystic mysteries of her learned magic.
Having thrown all rationale aside, Cecil continued his wayward musings. The opinion of his peers, the full expectations of the king, just being here with her made him care for none of it. It would be nice if they could simply stay like this.
“Isn't it about time..?”
Though her voice was just above a whisper, it carried clearly across the empty room. Cecil's eyes regained their focus back to reality. Even if he should forget himself completely, Rosa surely wouldn't allow him to. Still, it had felt nice to entertain those thoughts if even for a little while, “Yeah... You're right.”
He randomly returned the book onto the shelves while the trainee mage rose out from her cluttered desk and together they walked towards the library entrance.
The trip was short, not lasting even a minute. The squire opened the door yet couldn't bring himself to step outside, and so he remained standing between the entryway. Downcast, Rosa said, “Forgive me, Cecil. Even though this is suppose to be your big moment, I won't even be there to celebrate it with you.”
“Well, don't think too much of it. This is really all just for formality's sake... Also, your workload is heavy enough as is. And I would hate for you to overburden yourself on my account,” he honestly replied, for he felt his words would betray him if he had strayed anywhere else.
The sound and scent of raindrops beckoned him away, but he couldn't leave things the way they were. And so following his impulses, he hugged Rosa, much more than what could be deemed platonic or friendly and bordering on downright inappropriate. His mind finally caught up to what his body doing and blared that he could still pull back now and casually play it off. But they won't be seeing each other for many years to come, so he should be entitled to this much, shouldn't he?
“I'm sorry, Cecil...” she apologized for the second time and he felt those naive thoughts breaking into a sound of shattered glass. But before the feelings of rejection could begin sinking in, Rosa leaned into his embrace and continued, “To use your leaving as an excuse. We could have spent many more days together had I acted sooner. So to make up for lost time, this will have to do...”
And before the squire could fully register what was happening, she closed the tiny distance left between them and kissed him chastely. His face erupted, her bold action leaving him feeling hot and heady.
Rosa placed a hand against his chest and gently, yet somehow firmly pushed the dysfunctional squire outside while she took one step back herself, the threshold of the door definitively separating them. She stood for several seconds with her eyes locked on the floor and her cheeks flushed in scarlet embarrassment. Then, her fingers intertwined together below her waist and she raised her head, sending him off with a warm, supportive smile, “Congratulations.”
**********
The faint sound of puddle drops can still be heard even as Cecil slowly opens his eyes, not realizing he had them closed this whole time. He places a hand over his face and rubs his temple to try shaking off his weariness, “Only a dream..? Just a faraway memory...”
The dark knight sees that he's still sitting atop of the white chocobo, though it is no longer in motion and lies resting on the stone cavern floor. Rydia is also relaxing a few meters away, her back to him with arms propped along both sides while her feet lightly splash into the nearby pond. Patches of light leak through the cracks of the high ceiling above and shimmer down, playing on the water's surface as it softly shines and glistens.
Cecil takes in this brief respite and allows the well of sadness to wash over him, his hand fingering the empty jewelry box in his pocket.
“... No... even if everything else is lost, surely there will come a time where I can return, at least for her...”
It's the only future he can possibly believe in; even if he comes back to a place where nothing is the same, even if the passage of years erodes all of her love for him away.
He sinks his emotions deep within. At any rate, he can't be showing again such a hapless face, “Sorry, Rydia. Have I kept you waiting?”
Startled, she snaps her head towards him then shakes it in reply, “It hasn't been that long. And anyways, it's not really your fault.”
The summoner points forward, across the pond at what looks to be a campsite just up ahead.
As the two draw near, they can see the dull red embers of the smothered campfire and Rydia wrinkles her nose at the smell of burnt fish loafing in the air. A rustle is heard from inside the tent and soon a figure steps out, studying them inquisitively. Without a doubt, this is the same dangerous man that had been described by the merchant.
Judging from his iron-gray hair and bottle-coke spectacles, he looks to be in his early 60's. His hairstyle is quite bizarre and along with his pointed beard, it gives his head a distinct, triangle-like shape. In his hand holds a wooden scepter fashioned in the form of a griffin and on his person is a purple antique robe. Based on those two features as well as his outdated attire, it's fairly certain this old man is a traditional, longstanding magician.
“Still, it's odd...”
This is their first meeting yet somehow the dark knight can recognize the person before him. It then strikes Cecil as he recalls seeing several illustrations of this man inside the library grimoires.
“Pardon me, good sir, but would your name happen to be Tellah? As in the great sage Tellah of Mysidia?”
The old man nods, “The very same, though I haven't been referred to as such in a very long while. It's quite surprising that someone like you would know of me.”
“Yes, I've heard your name in passing mention from a dear friend of mine who studies the arcane arts.”
“And you yourself would be a mercenary, am I correct?” Tellah inquires after setting his eyes on the dark knight's sword. The sage's attention then shifts to Rydia, his left hand adjusting the spectacles on his face as he continues in a profound whisper, “And this child...”
Cecil takes half a step forward, obscuring the sage's view of his ward as he responses, “Ahh... It's my duty to protect her and see her safe passage into the kingdom of Damcyan. However, I hear the way is blocked..?”
A single beat passes before Tellah lets his arm drop to his side and addresses the dark knight, “That is so. A terrible sea creature dwells deep within the gorge ahead and assaults any who dares enter its territory. Could the dead whisper such secrets, the foolhardy caravans which have come before you would attest to this fact. It would be wise of you to venture no further.”
“Thank you for the warning. Unfortunately, we cannot afford to heed your advice.”
“Even knowing the dangers you still intend to proceed?” Tellah questions. Pondering the matter silently, he then speaks, “Then if you would, allow me to join you. I believe the both of us working together will be enough to thwart the beast.”
Seeing merit in their partnership, Cecil nods his consent and moves onward, however, the sage quickly stops him with an outstretched hand, “Not this way. A direct assault on the creature will prove suicidal. Please leave your belongings here and come with me.”
With that said, Tellah takes a separate path leading to higher ground, an unexpected detour away from their intended destination. Uncertain, Cecil nevertheless follows the sage's guidance and soon enough the group is on their way to the unseen perils which lie ahead.