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Chapter
III
PROGRESS
Balthier smirked smugly as he inserted another
bullet into his gun, from afar a loud thud could
be distinctly heard. Another monster had fallen
under his weapon, his catastrophe he always felt
proud of. He turned his gaze from his gun and
swiveled around, just to see whether his partner
had killed her prey or not. As expected, the bow
specialist had beaten a monster down and was now
standing on a big rock, her white long locks
swaying with the wind behind. He whistled.
“Have you had enough
fun, Fran?”
The Viera turned her
head to him, lips twitching to form a small
smile he got used to see. Her ruby eyes gleamed
blissfully in the radiant light of the sun.
“Yes, most likely. It’s as if you’ve woken up
from a long boring dream and now you can see the
beauty of the world again,” she gestured her
hand around; as if she was showing off old
valuable statues and weapons in a museum. “This
is magnificent.” She added, grinning.
Balthier couldn’t help
but laugh. It was the first day he and Fran set
out together after three weeks being caged in
Nalbina, without even a chance to go out due to
inopportune situations. Balthier’s flu had been
really bad that to his aversion he had to take
rest more than he’d expected. Fran’s condition,
however, hadn’t been fit enough to be brought
down onto the battlefield. So now with new vigor
residing on them, they killed many monsters as
ravenously as a wild beast ate its preys.
They killed them with
reasons though. First, they needed to search for
an item the bartender had asked, and second, to
satisfy their selves after almost a month being
secluded from the outer world. Both of them had
never felt so alive like this before. Even the
quiet Viera Fran wanted to scream at the top of
her lungs in exhilaration.
Tossing her white hair
back, she jumped swiftly from a rock to another
before landing right beside her partner. “So
where are we going now? You’ve got the item in
your pocket, have you?” She asked, and though
her face didn’t portray her burning soul, his
eyes could tell she was agog.
Most people would step
back with pleasure, raising hand in defeat
whenever it came to reading Viera minds. But to
the sky pirate Balthier, it was different.
Reading Fran’s mind was intriguing and
challenging, and as time passed by, after
getting with her for quite a long time, he
finally could put the puzzle at whole. The
reward of being patient and looking at her as a
fascinating being instead of a boring one was
the sight of Fran’s true self. Maybe there was
no one out there that could understand her very
well like he did.
With a wide smile
Balthier shoved his hand into his pocket to
retrieve a big crooked fang. Fran’s eyebrows
arched. He exclaimed, “Just what we need!” The
gunman smirked seeing her reaction as he put it
back to its place. “I just think, somehow, the
bartender is…keen on…” He waved his hand in the
air as he attempted to stifle a guffaw.
“…monsters’ dirty, ugly fragranced fangs.”
Fran’s lips twitched
upwards. “I’d say he’s obsessed with
them.”
He
couldn’t hold it any longer; he snickered before
finally hanging his head, guffawing. Fran
eventually laughed along with him.
As they stepped into
Nalbina, the same aura automatically greeted
them; the usual activities, the usual
inhabitants and their stuff displayed before
them, looking as superior as their owners
filling every possible space. Walking amongst
the crowd, Fran’s ears, as usual, moved from one
side to another, alert like a supervisor. She
jerked her head up when Balthier tapped her
shoulder gently, grinning. “Lost your direction,
ma’am?” He pointed to the café on his left and
it was when she realized she’d strayed from the
path she supposed to be in.
Fran looked down,
mumbling. “Thoughts would be more right.”
The brown haired man’s
grin grew wider as he ushered his partner into
the café. “Ah,” he rubbed at his chin. “That
needn’t be told again.”
She shot him a look
which he himself couldn’t sort out, so with an
uncertain shrug, he strolled towards the
bartender while his hand rummaged in his pocket.
With an obvious grin he didn’t try to conceal,
Balthier gave the fang to the middle aged man,
who jovially received it with sparkling eyes.
“There you have it, old man.” The gunman folded
his arms over his chest, satisfied.
“Splendid, splendid!
Here you go, my son,” his eyes averted from
Balthier. He took out something under his
counter and with a jolly smile he gave the sky
pirate a small box. “Thanks for the fang again,
son!”
Smiling and curtsying
slightly, Balthier whirled on his heel and
approached Fran. In an unspoken agreement, they
walked out the café only to be greeted by the
warm light of the sun. “Can you guess what is
inside?” He lifted his hand so the box could
clearly be seen. Fran cocked her head to the
side.
“Money?” She stared
down at him, wide-eyed, clueless.
He laughed. “Now, now,
aren’t you obsessed with money, Fran?”
The Viera wrinkled her
nose, bewildered. “What? I just think, what is
possibly inside there other than money? Isn’t
money what you always get after hunting and
bringing the item your clients have asked?”
Balthier laughed again
while Fran could only gaze down at him, having
no clue of what was going on. “Well,” the gunman
rubbed at his temples. “You’re too rational,
Fran. And beside money, I do think there are
more things inside here.” He tapped the lid
of the box, smiling. “What about a human’s
finger?” He suggested, innocently.
Fran grimaced. Her
voice almost resounded too high-pitched in his
ears afterwards. “What? No way.” Her eyes almost
fell off her eyes because of shock.
Human’s—human’s dead finger? Bloody hell no.
Chuckling, he looked at
her playfully. “Ah, I never knew a human’s
finger could freak you out so badly, dear Fran.”
He massaged his chin and squinted, as though
considering of what to say next. The more
dreadful and disgusting the things were, the
more fun he would get. “Then what about if…”
“Stop,” she said
firmly, half-glaring at Balthier. “No more
human’s finger or whatever.”
Her
friend erupted into laughter.
The crisp air of autumn
engulfed the room as they sat face to face, a
box filling the gap between them. As a gentle
zephyr permeated through the cracks of the
windows to warm the atmosphere up, their eyes
fixated on the little object that in the past
ten minutes had become a topic he found
humorous. Just remembering the expression on
Fran’s face could make him smirk idiotically, to
which his partner would retort with a sarcastic
remark and a glare, afterwards, would be added.
No. Fran really
couldn’t comprehend this gunman. He had the
weirdest sense of anything. She sometimes
wondered why she’d accepted the offer to go with
him in the first place. Maybe it was just him,
his own true self that had attracted her to him.
Maybe it was just Balthier.
She turned her eyes to
the windows and stared out, watching the
fleeting clouds pass by in boredom. Her gaze
moved downwards and she saw a line of trees in a
distance, their leaves were changing into shades
of red and orange, a clear indication that
autumn was descending upon this town. The air
was less warm than before, sometimes the wind
blew too hard that it wasn’t necessary to go out
too late at nights.
The redden leaves was a
change every eye could see, but beyond that,
Ivalice was changing too, letting no eyes to
detect it. But those who were aware enough would
be able to feel it.
She was one of those.
From time to time she could feel every layer of
this world cracking, cracking, and cracking,
opening up and ready to change, ready to grow up
for the better or worse. So far, the world had
survived its darkest layers and was now showered
with glorious light. But there were still too
many layers behind, so feeling composed and
satisfied right now would be practically wrong.
“Fran?” Balthier
suddenly interrupted her train of thought.
She instantly turned
her head to him, only to find his eyes
penetrating into hers. “Yes?”
One of the edges of his
mouth turned upwards, forming a smirk. “You look
so distant. Thinking much?” He leaned back into
his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
“…Not really.” Fran
shook her head, not wanting to bring up
everything she’d always been thinking. Sometimes
it irritated her how her thoughts were proved
incessant and she couldn’t forget or bury them.
It was annoying, but it was a part of herself
she couldn’t reject and had become closer and
clearer as she grew up. So hiding her thoughts
from everyone else around her was the least she
could do. She wasn’t the type of person who
always voiced out her thoughts and feelings
unless she was asked, after all.
“So,” Balthier nodded
towards the box. “Let’s open this then?”
“You open it.” Those
words ran from her mouth almost immediately and
she felt so stupid. Now it looked like she
didn’t want to open it because she was afraid
there would be a human’s finger or something
inside. Not like the bartender would
bother to put one there, though. “I-I mean, go
on ahead, open it.” She amended her previous
words, hoping these ones didn’t sound as
ridiculous as before.
There was that smirk
again on his face. “Oh? You don’t want to see
what’s inside first?”
“No. I will see
what is inside in the end, so what’s the point?”
He chuckled. “Ah, nice
theory over there.” Still chuckling, Balthier
reached for the box and put it on his lap,
eyeing it attentively for awhile as if it was
his new born baby or something. And then, very
slowly and almost idly, his fingers moved across
the lid and took it off. Fran didn’t need to
raise her head any higher to be able to see what
was inside. She was tall enough.
“Money…and herbs?” The
Viera cocked her head to one side, stupefied.
Balthier let out a
faint chuckle. “Looks like yes.” He took some
green plants and weird-looking roots out the
box. “I wonder why?”
“Maybe he knows your
antibody isn’t working very well?”
He shot his friend a
glare as he put everything back into the box. “I
wouldn’t say that if I were you, Fran. That
can’t be taken lightly,”
Fran shrugged and sent
her stare out the window again. Autumn. Falling
leaves. “I wonder…” Her eyelids closed for a
brief moment while images of a wood with
abundant amount of trees and their golden leaves
injected her mind. The sound of knife clashing
against dead logs, the sound of kettles heating
up as they exuded vague mist into the
air…everything was so vivid in her mind. “I
wonder…” She opened her mouth again. “The Wood
must be at its best state right now, with golden
leaves and bountiful amount of apples hanging on
the trees.”
He gawked at her for
some seconds before he was wise enough to stop
being an idiot, and let his words fall. “Pardon
me?”
She snapped her head
around to greet his eyes. “Nothing. It’s just…
The Wood always looks perfect in autumn.”
“Ooh...” He nodded in
acknowledgement and silence fell upon them
giving some unspoken comfort for a minute,
before Balthier killed it with his voice that
echoed throughout the room. “I wonder…” He
scratched the back of his head awkwardly,
contemplating whether or not he should bring
this topic up. But this woman was his best
partner and there was almost nothing between
them they never spoke about. So he continued, “I
wonder…how Ashe is doing. And the others, too.”
He clumsily added, somehow feeling odd if he
only mentioned about the princess.
Their stares met. But
Fran broke it as she went to her bed and seated
herself there. “Yeah.” she said nonchalantly,
brushing some strands of her white hair off her
face.
“Er…yeah. I wonder…
It’s been quite awhile, you know.”
“It has.” The crimson
eyed woman spoke without looking at him.
“Uhm…Fran?”
“Why don’t you go and
pay a visit then, sky pirate?” She asked the
question carefully, but directly at him.
Balthier looked at her
for awhile. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I
mean, I don’t think Rabanastre will become an
interesting place to visit anytime soon. It’s—”
“But you want to visit
her, don’t you?” She was being persistent about
this, he noticed.
“And the others, if I
may add,” he frowned. “Look, I still don’t know
where to go after this. Don’t you think Nalbina
has grown a bit boring?”
Fran flicked her hair
back, standing up and walking towards the door
that led to the terrace. Before she opened it,
she turned her vision to him. “Whatever your
choices may be, I’ll stick with you
nonetheless.” With a loud click the door was
opened, and she left him alone.
He wrinkled his nose.
What was that? There was something running
across Fran’s ruby eyes, something unusual and
had never been shown before. It was almost too
clear. Was it disappointment? Was it fear? Was
it anxiety? Was it…
Jealousy?
Shaking his head,
Balthier let a bitter laugh escape his lips. No
fucking way. How could he think she was jealous?
He didn’t even know if Viera could feel envious.
Viera, shortly, were complicated beings no one
bothered to know or understand.
Even so, he deemed them
as fascinating beings. Moreover, he liked
one of them. Like, hell much. Or maybe more than
that.
He
sighed.
Her stomach gave a sudden
jolt when the door opened without any warning.
Her grey eyes rolled vigilantly. They spotted a
middle aged woman in apron and over worn red
outfit. Her tendons relaxed once she recognized
this woman as one of those chefs. Rising to her
feet, she approached her with graceful paces a
fine lady ought to have.
“Your highness,” the
woman bowed slightly in respect. “They’re
waiting for you down in the hall. The dinner is
ready.”
An understanding smile
emblazoned her beautiful face. “Thank you for
notifying me. I’ll be there in a minute. You may
go.” She nodded just as the chef curtsied again,
leaving her alone. Exhaling, the blond haired
young woman went to her lengthy mirror, only to
find her reflection strewn across the glassy
surface. She touched it. “Here we go…”
After examining her
reflection for some more time in the mirror, she
went out her spacious bedroom which could only
be depicted as a little heaven by commoners
without status. Determined and unwavering paces
reverberated throughout the wide corridor,
resounding in her ears as she made her way down
to the hall. She had known this place so well.
This was her home and despite of its unusual
enormous size, she could remember every path she
had to take, she could remember tiny things
about this castle. Yes, she was not a hopeless
little princess who didn’t even know the way
back to her room.
She had grown up. She
had duties to do.
The twin gigantic doors
swung open before her, revealing a huge hall
where two people were sitting at a big dining
table. Once her presence was registered in their
eyes, they quickly stood up and gave her their
best charming smiles.
“Ashe!” Exclaimed a
short boy who hardly could be called as a young
man. His brown eyes sparkled joyously and none
would know how hard he’d been through just by
looking at his innocence.
“Hi Larsa,” Ashe smiled
warmly at him, seating herself across from him
as she flashed the other man at the table a
smile. “Good to see you all here. I really
appreciate it. Please, be seated.”
A man with dark violet
hair adjusted his seat and beckoned for some
women dressed in fancy outfits to come closer to
him, and then he gave his sunglasses to one of
them. He fixed his attention on the ruler of
Dalmasca. “Ah, Lady Ashe. It’s been awhile,
hasn’t it?”
Ashe nodded. “Yes it
has. And I see you’re still popular amongst
women,” she nodded politely and smiled.
“I am Al-Cid from
history, if by any chance you remember; you must
know I cannot live without these beautiful
creatures.”
She nodded her head
again. “Of course I do. It would be a shame if I
didn’t, after what you’ve done for us in the
past.” She smiled again at him, before shifting
her vision towards the younger man. “Really, I’m
exhilarated to have you both, rulers of other
regions, attending this euphoric moment. I am
beyond happy to have Dalmasca returning to
normal.”
Al-Cid waved a hand in
the air, one edge of his lips turning upwards to
form a smirk. “I am no ruler, my lady. But I am
a member of the rulers, so I think that also
counts. Considering that he didn’t have the
chance to go…I decided to. Beside, it would be
an honor to us Margrace’s meeting you again,” he
bowed his head slightly which made Ashe feel no
better.
“Please Al-Cid, it’s
okay.” As they talked some chefs came in,
bringing meals with luscious aroma, cooked by
the most professional and trained specialists
from the land of Dalmasca. One of those women
filled Ashe’s mug with fresh water while she
opened her mouth to bring up a conversation
again. “The restoration of Dalmasca means a lot
for us, and you see, I’ll try…not to call this
as a ‘meeting’. I’ll try to deem this as a, uhm,
small dinner for celebration? But of course, we
do need to talk about some few things, like our
alliance, imported stuff, and—”
Larsa let out a chuckle
and the blonde looked at him, giving him a
puzzled look. “Ah Ashe, you need to brighten up
a little. I mean, this is….what do you call it
again? Yeah, a dinner to celebrate the
restoration of Dalmasca. Or freedom. Or whatever
you want to call it. Should we honor it, don’t
you think we need to put those things aside,
just for awhile?” When the blond haired woman
just deepened her scowl, Larsa chuckled again.
“C’mon Ashe…”
Al-Cid went into their
conversation. “Ah, let me make this straight and
clear. You know your majesty; don’t you think
this restoration is worth a big party?” Ashe’s
head turned towards the violet haired man. “I
bet people of Dalmasca will be very happy. I
mean, who wouldn’t? You know…” Al-Cid leaned
forward and kept his voice audible, just loud
enough for her to hear; “we’ll help you with
this, if you want. We will, right, Larsa?”
Ashe leaned into her
chair, rubbing at her temples in a motion Larsa
had never seen, and he thought it was kind of
funny, it’s as though the blonde was extremely
exhausted; all her strength drained into a topic
she couldn’t really grasp. Beside, this uh,
dinner was where they supposed to talk about
political issues, alliance and stuff, right? But
there they were talking about throwing a big
party to celebrate Dalmasca’s restoration, along
with freedom. What on earth was happening?
The ruler of Archadia
bit his bottom lip in try to retain himself from
chuckling again, or worse, laughing. “You know
Ashe, this freedom is what you people have been
searching and waiting for, right? So now that
it’s already in your hands, won’t you celebrate
it? It’s been awhile since the last time
Rabanastre had dancing people around the square,
if I still remember well. And I do think your
people will be happy.”
The woman stared into
his eyes, as if by doing so she would find an
answer. She straightened her seat and expelled a
sigh. “…Will they?”
“Sure they will. No
doubt about that.” Al-Cid nodded his head,
grinning.
She looked at him with
uncertainty. Here her friends were suggesting
her to throw a big party celebrating Dalmasca’s
restoration. It was true everyone was ecstatic
about this freedom after being pushed down into
the ground, pressured, and ruled around by
someone as devious as a beast. It was true this
freedom was what everyone had been dreaming of.
But…celebrating this? She’d never thought about
that.
“Well Ashe, this is
just our suggestion. We, of course, as allies,
want the best for you and your people.”
She intertwined her
fingers together, mulling this for awhile. Had
she been too serious? Had the duty as the Queen
made her less human? Hadn’t she thought
too much about political issues? Sure, she was
the Queen, but that didn’t mean she had to
abandon her people’s happiness… Yeah, that was
probably right. Her people’s happiness also
meant her own.
Ever so slightly, her
mouth turned upwards; she smiled. Larsa and
Al-Cid exchanged glances.
“…I think, yes.” The
blonde finally said, looking up at the two with
eyes full of hopes and expectations. She really
wanted to make her people happy. Because
sometimes, there was more to life than just
drowning with political issues.
Al-Cid smiled.
“Splendid! If you need any help, we’ll be here
anytime you want.”
“And you know what?
Politics can wait.” Larsa grinned, showing his
pearly white teeth.
Ashe
smiled at them, for the very first time she
thanked God for having great friends like them.
“Vaan.”
That voice was so
disturbing at the moment, though usually, it was
what he always wanted to hear. The feminine
voice echoed in his ears again, this time
sounded more demanding than before. Next he felt
his hand being tugged by slender fingers as
delicate as porcelain. With an aggravated growl
he finally opened one eye, and when that voice
became too shrill to bear, he snapped his eyes
open. Blue gazed into gray.
“Vaannnnn….!” She waved
a hand before his eyes, as if testing whether he
could see or not. Of course he could, but the
problem was, his eyes were so heavy right now.
“Mhm yeah?” He rubbed
at his eyes idly, reluctantly. “Whaat?”
The blond haired girl
pouted, placing a hand on her hip as she pointed
her index finger towards the dark sky. Vaan
followed her finger, only to be saluted by the
dark blanket of night. He blinked. She was
biting her bottom lip now, annoyed. “Oh c’mon
Vaan! Grow up a little, would you? Didn’t you
promise me to watch the shooting star together?”
He stared up at the sky
blankly. Was he hallucinating? Or there were
no stars in the sky? “But Penelo… Look, what
are we waiting for? There are like, no stars in
the sky. Nada.”
Her friend shot him a
glare. “You idiot…” She grumbled under her
breath. “Look sleepy head, there are many
out there, see—Vaan!” The blonde boy had closed
his eyes again, murmuring something about stars
in his head. Penelo couldn’t help it any longer.
She slumped to the ground next to him, chin on
hand and knees brought up. She looked so pissed.
“Sorry P-nelo, I’m so
sleepy.” Vaan murmured an apology in a futile
attempt for his voice was so hoarse, barely
above the lowest whisper, even. “Ye-eaah…”
There was a long pause
after that. The princess of night had dispatched
her silence to descend upon them, taking back
every word, every noise. In the comforting
silence between them, the girl just stared at
the sky, eyes distant, mind wandering around
through the valley and mountain of thoughts. Her
effort, all her patience was all drained into
one certain thing; a shooting star. But as she
waited there, trying to look determined and
casual, why wouldn’t it emerge and shoot?
Now that she thought
about it, what would she wish for? Freedom?
Restoration? They had gained both. Tranquility?
She was in it now. Happiness? They had it at the
moment. So what…?
And suddenly she
remembered one thing. Vague like a mist was a
picture of two partners who had been with them
not long before, fighting alongside them
throughout their hard journey. They were total
opposites, but they were the best partners she’d
ever seen. Balthier and Fran. She really wished
they were still alive.
The blonde exhaled, her
breath creating an almost unseen haze in the
air. “Hey Vaan, where do you think they are now?
Do you think they’re still alive, somehow? I’m
worried about them, you know. They’re such good
friends. And don’t pretend you don’t know who
I’m talking about, hey Vaan—” She averted her
gaze to her right and there Vaan was, already in
deep slumber and of course, he didn’t hear
whatever his friend was saying.
She was
outraged. “VAAN—”
She crossed one leg over
the other, seating herself across from him. Her
ruby eyes fixed on the mug under her nose. “So
are we going to Rabanastre?”
His eyes flickered
towards his partner as he sipped the coffee.
Placing the cup back to the table, he leaned
into his chair, arms crossed. “I think I haven’t
said that. And we haven’t reached an agreement,
have we? I suppose you still remember about
partners, Fran. You know—”
“Partners always share
everything together. Should they want to go
somewhere, they must talk about this and find an
agreement before setting out.” Fran finished
off, a smirk dancing around her cocoa yet
beautiful face. She remembered that line pretty
well. That was what Balthier had told her over
and over long ago, when she always said ‘it
doesn’t matter where we’re going; I’ll just
follow’. It pretty much had annoyed him.
“I didn’t say I wanted
to go to Rabanastre,” Balthier cocked an
eyebrow. “Yesterday I was only wondering how the
others were doing, Fran. So we haven’t had a
choice yet, have we…” the gunman leaned forward,
face looking somewhat severe and interested. “I
heard about this promising rumor. Ever heard of
Bervenia?”
The slight move of
Fran’s head to the side was obvious enough; she
had never heard of it. She straightened her
position and looked more solemn. “What’s with
it?”
“A city in Rozarria.
Full of bounty hunters, treasures, and
everything sky pirates are fond of, I assume.”
He let out a soft chuckle and leaned back into
his chair again. He could feel a smirk creeping
to his face right now. “What say you? Doesn’t
this sound too appealing to resist?”
The Viera twirled her
white fringes with her fingers, eyes looking
over his shoulder and staring at nothing in
particular. She looked utterly unfazed and calm,
masking herself pretty well though deep down
there she was arguing with thoughts. The woman
flashed him a puzzled look. He couldn’t help but
smirk. A bemused Fran was always capable of
inviting more than a smirk to his face; oh dear,
didn’t she look more adorable with those rolling
eyes, mouth turned up into a pout, wrinkled
nose, and unsure expression? It was totally
priceless.
“This sounds great,”
her low flat tone brought him back down to the
earth again; regrettably he had to leave his
land of imaginations. “Beside,” Fran looked more
composed now; the usual, professional Fran. “We
haven’t been there, have we? This is so
challenging.” She smiled.
“It is. A week from
now, and we’re off. How does that sound?”
The Viera only nodded
in response, smiling.
He
replied that smile with a wide grin. “Great.
Bervenia it is.”
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