Finding My Way Back To You: Chapter 8, part 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy Tactics. It is the property of Square. Once again, I'd like to thank my co-writer and editor, Falchion1984 for his help in making this fic possible

Chapter 8: Veils of Secrecy, part 3

Still, if any man could bring about another era in which airships crowded out the heavens, Ramza was willing to bet that Mustadio would be that man. And, with that, he turned his attention back to the letter.

There is one other thing I'd like to ask you about, though. Have you heard from Melia? She was in a bad way when we escaped from Murond, and I'm kinda worried.

Ramza's eyebrow arched at the nickname the machinist had given the divine knight. As Ramza recalled, Meliadoul hadn't appreciated it...but, then again, they hadn't exactly met Meliadoul under the best of circumstances. If the life Ramza had known had come toppling down on that fateful day at Fort Zeakden, then the twin blows of Riovanes and Limberry had caused Meliadoul's life to turn to dust and scatter on the wind. In the span of a few weeks, the divine knight had lost her brother to the leonine claws of Hashmalum, learned that her father, lost for years to demonic corruption without her even realizing it, had been the culprit, and discovered that the faith to which she'd devoted her life had been a sham concocted by the very evil behind the loss of her family. That barrage of horrific revelations seemed to have caused her heart to crumble in her chest, leaving behind only a well-honed machine of battle that Construct 8's long dead creators would have envied.

She rarely spoke, she took her meals and her rest well away from the others, and her otherwise lovely face was always marred by exhaustion and the jaded air of one for whom life had become merely a succession of days leading to the end...and that everything prior to that end had been gutted of joy or meaning.

Mustadio, who could be surprisingly empathetic despite how much time he spent in the cold silent company of machines, had taken it upon himself to help her...

...but, as often happened in those pursuits of his which did not involve machines, the results left much to be desired.

Less-than-suitable for the frontlines, Mustadio would often support the divine knight by firing over Meliadoul's head, shielding her from ranged attack and providing the distraction needed for her to bring her unique sword skills to bear. Having lost his own shield to such techniques during their battle in Bervenia, Ramza had been eager to see these talents put to use against their myriad foes. Mustadio had always been the first to complement Meliadoul's skill and bravery, though the divine knight's response usually looked more akin to a grimace than a smile. These recollections suddenly nudging aside his preoccupation with the errant holy stone, Ramza read on.

I tried to convince her to come to Goug with me. I thought maybe it would help if she got a fresh start, but she turned me down. When she left us, just before Rachel was born, she said something about seeking out her fate. But, with what happened down in Murond the last time "fate" came up, I have my doubts.

Ramza couldn't blame the machinist. Not long after it was discovered that Altima's explosive demise hadn't killed them, Meliadoul had slipped away from the group, Mustadio following not long after. The others had been discussing how best to clear the rubble blocking their path back to Orbonne when a gunshot rang out. Ramza had raced in the direction of the sound and found Meliadoul huddled on the floor massaging her forearm. Her unsheathed sword lay not far off and, between the blade and its owner, was Mustadio, frantically trying to hide the smoke issuing from his gun's muzzle.

Though neither had said so explicitly, it was obvious what had happened. Having been denied death in battle against the Lucavi, Meliadoul sought to end her own life, only for Mustadio to intervene.

But, judging by the distant, wistful expression on Meliadoul's face and her whispered rambling about fate having been cheated, it was doubtful that she'd show much gratitude for the machinist's intervention.

Ramza did, however, find himself wondering if there might be more to the machinist's actions than that. Mustadio's surprising empathy aside, it was no secret that Meliadoul was very attractive. More than that, however, after having seen his father dangling over the jaws of death and having narrowly slipped away from the reaper's grasp many a time, perhaps Mustadio had found himself thinking that life was, indeed, brief and fragile.

After all, the civilizations whose lost technologies so fascinated him likely served as a daily reminder that time was never on anyone's side and that, with only so many years to seek what joys and experiences one might find, there are few if any second chances.

Perhaps now, with a future free of the games of war played by the worst of mankind and demonkind, Mustadio's agile mind had turned towards the future and he'd found himself wondering if a certain former divine knight might have a place in it? Curious, he continued reading.

I'm hoping that, if you have the chance to talk to her, you might have better luck. You always did have a talent for persuading people. After all, look what you talked Agrias into. Ha, ha, ha! Speaking of which, I'm going to see if I can see you in person when we meet in Lesalia again next month. My father also extends his gratitude for saving him, as well as keeping me safe, heh heh. But, there is one thing I must ask you about. Now that Altima is gone and the war's over, what do you plan to do with the holy stones? We both know how dangerous they are, and I think it's best if we find some way to destroy them. I've talked it over with my father and he agrees, but says that it may not be possible. Perhaps the best thing you can do is seal them away and let the secret of their locations die with us. But, we can discuss that when we see each other again. Until then, take care my friend.

Mustadio Bunazsa

Ramza's earlier amusement over the machinist's veiled interest in his former companion promptly gave way to a frown at Mustadio’s mention of the holy stones. Once more, the missing Pieces stone teased at the back of his mind and he suddenly found himself wondering what might happen if Beowulf and Rad were mistaken in their earlier counsel. Ramza supposed it hardly mattered whether the stone was already found or down some hole waited to be discovered. As the true savior of Ivalice, the young Beoulve had also found himself the rather unwilling guardian of the Zodiac Stones, and this weighty obligation was now his responsibility whether he wanted it or not. He knew the potential the stones had for evil as well as good; but all too often, they have been used for evil. Having seen firsthand what they could do once they'd ensnared the corrupt, Ramza knew the stones must never be allowed to fall into the wrong hands again. If it was possible to destroy them, he would spend the rest of his life trying to find a way to do so if that’s what it took to keep a monstrosity such as Altima from ever returning to the human world.

But for now, he knew that agonizing over the unknown would serve only to sap his strength and cloud his wits when he'd need both, not just in case news of the stone did surface but to safeguard his family as well. Thus resolved, he placed Mustadio’s letter aside and picked up another letter, this one from his father’s old friend, Count Cidofolas Orlandu. Or, as he was better known, "Thunder God Cid".

Hello, Ramza, I trust you have been well since we last saw each other? I could not help but notice that you broke your sword arm during our last battle and I pray, even now, for your swift recovery. As for myself, I have decided that this shall be my last adventure. I have lost count of how many battlefields I have walked, how may foes I have laid low, and how many friends I have had to bury along the way. I wish for our battle against Altima to be the last time I shall have to shed another's blood. It's not as if I've much choice in the matter either. My age is catching up to me at last; my bones ache, my hands tremble, and my heart lurches in my breast. It's quite clear that I’m not as young and spry as I used to be. Sadly, that might not deter those who have cause to wish me harm, so I’m going to lay low and live out my remaining days somewhere peaceful and quiet. Due to the circumstances of Duke Goltana’s death, and my alleged role in it, I cannot disclose where I will be going nor when or if I will return.

On a less somber note, I wish to extend my gratitude for your having Luso accompany me on this final journey. Luso reminds me much of your father's stories of you. The lad is energetic, adventurous, and never hesitates to help a friend in need. Still, it's no secret that, with the war over, he's eager to resume searching for his missing friends. He tells me that he's heard nothing from them, neither word nor rumor, and it's obvious that he's deeply concerned. Once I'm settled and my affairs are in order, I'll send him on his way. He's done well by us, and I can only hope that he will find what he seeks.

Even in these quiet corners, however, there is news which has caught my attention. I heard from Olan that King Delita has appointed you and Alma as the new duke and duchess of Lionel, and that Agrias as well as Rad and the twins are living with you. He also told me of your new daughter and I want to congratulate you and Agrias both. I’m sorry I could not be there to see her, but I’m sure she must be beautiful. Your father would have been proud of you and would have dearly loved to see his grandchild if he had lived. I can make no promises about whether I will be able to see you again but, if I cannot, know that I wish for nothing more than your happiness. Once again, congratulations on your little girl and I know that she is in the best of hands.

T.G Cid

As he finished the letter, Ramza sighed sadly. Like himself, the former count's good name had been a casualty of the war. Orlandu, who had commanded the Nanten during the Fifty Years War and had fought bravely at the side of Balbanes and his Hokuten, was also believed to be dead. Yet, the manner of his supposed death was every bit as ignominious as it was false. During the aborted Battle of Fort Besselat, where both of the warring dukes were slain, Orlandu had been relieved of command and imprisoned after "evidence" had emerged of a conspiracy between him and pro-Orinias members of the church.

Unsurprisingly, Delita had been appointed as the new commander of the Nanten and, consequently, became Goltana's new right-hand man.

Shortly after Ramza and company had freed Orlandu from the Fort, news reached their ears that, during the chaos resulting from the sluice being opened and the battle grinding to a halt, Orlandu had broken out of his cell and he and Duke Goltana had killed each other. Orlandu being present and very much alive amongst Ramza's companions made the truth clear enough, but it was another truth which would never let see the light of day so long as Delita lived.

After all, that Delita likely killed his own liege lord and painted an innocent man as the culprit might tarnish his image as a benevolent king.

Orlandu himself hardly seemed to mind, since Goltana's lust for power had undone his wits, but that didn't change the fact that the man who was an even greater hero than Ramza and Delita combined would have to live out his life in obscurity. However, unlike Ramza and Alma, the former count had little reason to fear pursuit. The body of Delita's decoy, which resembled Orlandu as surely as a twin, had been discovered at the scene of the gruesome deed. Ramza doubted many would genuinely revile Orlandu for his alleged crime, but that the former count's name was so besmirched rankled him. However, the young Beoulve forced himself to remember that his father’s old friend only wanted to live quietly in peace for whatever time he had left. Perhaps he would have a chance to see his friend at least once more before his time in this world came to an end.

After setting Orlandu’s letter aside, Ramza picked the next letter, this one being from Malak Galthana.

Greetings, Ramza. How have you been? Rafa has been pestering me to write you, and to find out about yours and Agrias's baby. I know Rafa and Agrias had some disagreements, but I think Rafa enjoyed having a strong woman around to look up to. As for me...well, I hope you know what you're getting yourself into. With everything that's happened, I can barely picture myself finding a woman, let alone raising a child. Still, Rafa seems to think you'll do fine and, considering all you've done for her, I can believe it. I was told that your old home has been abandoned and, since everyone thinks all the Beoulves are dead, the castle has become property of the crown, along with your family’s wealth. I guess, since Delita can't afford to exonerate you publically, giving you and your sister Lionel instead is his idea of offering something in return. I find all that ironic, considering Lionel was once the home of your enemy. I hope he pays you well to govern that province, and that your baby grows up in a better world than we did. As for my sister and I, we had returned to Riovanes. I know, I know, that surprised me too. But, Rafa had some mementos of our village there and, since the castle's treasury had been untouched by the Lucavi, I figured I might as well collect the "severance pay" Barrington owed us, since it would help us to make a new life for ourselves.

When I reached his treasury, however, I found his will tucked away inside. I read it and found, much to my surprise, that our adoptive father had named us his heirs and left his entire estate and fortune to us. I had to track down and question one of his former solicitors to make sure the document wasn't part of some twisted joke, but the whole thing is legal and binding. Perhaps, in his own twisted way, he did love us, though I can never forgive what he did to Rafa. She was hardly impressed by this gesture and, to make up for my years of willful ignorance, I have tried to appease her by putting our father’s estate up for sale. But, to my dismay, I found that I could not find one buyer, even after offering it for a price that a scullery maid could afford. Apparently, a handful of knights and servants had managed to escape the Lucavi massacre and spread the word, as did the investigators who came to Riovanes after Barrington was killed. As a result, everyone now believes that Riovanes is haunted and we’re now stuck with this unwanted inheritance whether we want it or not. But I suppose, for better or worse, Riovanes is still our home; it’s not like we have anywhere else to go since our village was destroyed long ago. However, since the orphanages Barrington established have also come into our ownership, I find myself wondering if this might be a blessing in disguise. Not long ago, we were amongst those orphans. Barrington used them as a recruiting pool for his assassins but, maybe with him gone, some good can be done for those children. Maybe we might even be able to do some good with Riovanes, like you probably will with Lionel. I can only hope that, in time, people will get over their fear about what happened here and we will be able to hire a staff again. Rafa and I won't be able to accomplish much if this places comes down around our ears.

There is one other thing on my mind, however. I know this isn't my business, and that you always gave everyone in our group a lot of leeway, but I really think you ought to do something about Rad and the twins. Maybe this is just me looking for ways to make up for how I let Rafa down, but I don't like the way Rad's always stringing Lavian along. When I realized what Barrington had done to Rafa, all I could do was fume at my own stupidity, but Lavian was able to put a smile back on her face. She was also able to shake me out of my self-recrimination and get me to see that I was making Rafa feel even worse by beating myself up. Well, I know Rad is a friend of yours, so maybe you could try and talk some sense into him. You do have quite a way of persuading people.

Anyway, I’m looking forward to seeing you and the others again in Lesalia. If you can, bring the baby. Rafa will be thrilled to see the little one. Until then, take care.

Malak Galthana

Of all the myriad words and phrases that could describe Ramza's reaction to the netherseer’s revelation, "blown away" likely came closest to the truth. The young Beoulve had to admit, despite having first met on opposite sides, he was impressed by Malak's grit. Still, he pitied the Galthana twins for having to live at Riovanes by themselves now that their adoptive father was dead, along with majority of their knights and staff who were killed in the massacre which became infamously known as ‘The Horror of Riovanes’.

Those few who had managed to escape, and those fewer still who'd managed to keep their minds from coming undone by what they'd endured, had emphatically refused to return, and Ramza honestly couldn’t blame them. Still, he shared Malak’s hope that people would eventually get over their fear of the late Duke Barrington’s home and help his unlikely heirs to make something good out of his depraved legacy.

He also found himself wondering at Malak's interest in Lavian. Aside from how difficult it must've been for Malak to admit his error in judgment regarding Rafa and what she'd been through, Ramza had found himself quite surprised to hear Malak express such an interest in another of the young Beoulve's companions. The netherseer had been slow to connect with his onetime foes and, as he had mentioned, he'd been quite caught up in his self-directed anger after the ‘Horror of Riovanes’. Though, now that Ramza thought about it, Malak did seem to have cooled off some weeks later. He'd still been somewhat reserved with others, but he become less standoffish and had even allowed his brooding exterior to fall away. If Lavian had been able to bring that about, the young Beoulve found himself wondering what might happen if the two were to meet again.

After setting Malak’s letter aside, Ramza got to the final letter in his stack, this one being from Meliadoul Tingel. Considering that the child Alma carried was Meliadoul's nephew or niece, Ramza was more than a bit anxious to learn what had befallen the former divine knight.

It has been some time, Ramza. I am writing to let you know that I am well, all things considered, and that I have found what I’ve been searching for since we vanquished Altima. I think I finally understand why Izlude died and why father did the things he did. I only wished that I had seen the truth sooner; and, for that, I am sorry.

As for what I have been doing since, I've heard rumors that creatures resembling the lesser demons we fought during the war are still on the loose in Ivalice. Most of these rumors are laughed off as drunken delusions; but, after what happened to Izlude and the Lucavi's other victims, I'm not taking any chances. I was able to track down Byblos and he (at least, I think Byblos is a he) has proven invaluable in tracking the fiends. It is strange, however, that he is so eager to fight his own kind, or that he would fight alongside humans. But, after what happened with my father, and with you, I suppose I should know that appearances can be deceiving. Boco has also proven valuable in carrying me to the reported sightings of these demons, not to mention chasing them down when they try to flee my blade. I thank you for lending him to me, and I hope I can return him to you unharmed.

As for what I will do when these reported demons dry up, I don't know. Like you, I have also been summoned to Lesalia, but I’m not sure if I want to go. Even with the lingering traces of demonkind to hunt, I have become lost; I no longer have anything to protect or hold dear, something that had been the crux of my entire life. Mustadio had offered me a place to stay in Goug, but I fear I'd make poor company since he already has to support his father. Even so, with the benefit of hindsight, I suppose I do owe him an apology for the way I'd treated him during the war. At the time, I was so wrapped up in my grief that it felt like he was smothering me. Now, that I'm alone save for my hunting companions, I almost find myself missing him. Though, I will admit, re-gifting that Tynar Rouge hardly helped my impression of him.

In any case, I’m sorry to trouble you with these thoughts. I just needed to let it out, and I hope you understand. Now that father is gone, the entire Tingel estate and fortune has passed onto me, including Izlude’s share. It's probably enough wealth to tantalize King Delita's interest, though I would gladly give it all up if I could have my brother back. Anyway, if I don’t come to Lesalia, I hope that we will meet again some other way. And, should you cross his path before I do, please tell Mustadio I regret that I did not show him the respect his kindness deserves. Yours truly,

Meliadoul Tingel

Upon reading the former divine knight’s words, Ramza’s heart sank into his boots. Though none of those who'd fought at his side came away unscathed, even if they were happy nonetheless, this letter was truly disheartening. And, in spite of Meliadoul seeming to find some purpose in her upturned life, he could not help but wonder if the former divine knight might once more consider finding escape from her heavy heart upon the edge of her blade. In truth, however, he couldn’t blame Meliadoul for feeling so low. He still had Alma, Malak still had Rafa, and Lavian still had Alicia. But, Meliadoul was utterly alone now that her parents and only brother was gone and that she'd discovered the church she had served faithfully her whole life was a fraud. With Vormav - or, more accurately, Hashmalum - as well as all of their other high-ranking officers dead, the order of Knights Templar had effectively ceased to exist. Granted, there was little use for them now that the Church of Glabados no longer had as much influence in Ivalice as they did before. Still, Ramza hoped that the former divine knight would change her mind and meet them in Lesalia. Perhaps the news that she would be an aunt in a few short months if Alma’s pregnancy went well might rekindle the spark of life in her. Maybe Mustadio's fumbling affections might as well.

Ramza could not say. Though, he could not help a snicker of amusement at the barb Meliadoul had directed at the machinist. Like Ramza, Mustadio had been rather taken by Agrias and had thought to offer her some Tyner Rouge as a birthday gift. Procuring such an indulgence was no small matter, however. Mustadio had had to part with a fair bit of coin to obtain it, and it had been weeks before he'd received the goods.

However, by the time he'd had the lavish gift in hand, Agrias's pregnancy was quite visible and she and Ramza had professed their love.

Despite being somewhat harebrained on matters not relating to science and machinery, Mustadio had chosen not to intrude with such a provocative gesture. Instead, as he subsequently admitted to Ramza, he'd chosen to give the rouge to Meliadoul in the hope that a feminine trifle might ease her melancholy. Judging by the letter, however, her reaction must not have been what Mustadio had hoped for.

Feeling the anxiety that had kept him awake ebbing and his eyelids growing heavy, the young Beoulve tucked the letters in his desk drawer and made his way back into the master bedroom. Apart from the cradle, which even now held the last and most precious treasure of the once wealthy House Beoulve, the room seemed almost colorless. ‘Almost’ because his love was seated next to the slumbering infant, clad in a loose nightgown and with her long hair out of its usual braid, the reddish-blonde tresses cascading down her back and shoulders in soft, tumbling waves the color of a woven dawn. For a long moment, Ramza simply stood and watched as she brushed out her long hair, her eyes turning to gaze adoringly at the slumbering treasure tucked away next to her. A rare smile, precious beyond gil, lit up her features as she extended one leg to gently rock the cradle with one bare foot. The young Beoulve could swear he felt his eyes misting at the sight, especially when he recalled all the trials and tribulations which they had been through to reach this moment, and how easily it could have all ended up being for naught.
Ramza may have had no alternative to bringing his pregnant lover with him on his journey, but that did not change the fact that one slight shift of how events had unfolded could have easily seen them burying their child instead of rocking her to sleep.

“Ramza? Are you still up? Why don’t you come to bed?” Agrias asked, breaking his reverie as she turned and spied him.

“Sorry, my love,” he apologized. “I was just reading some letters from our friends. It looks like they’re all doing pretty well. Mustadio and the Galthana twins will meet us in Lesalia, and my old classmates might as well. But, I’m not sure if Meliadoul can make it. Count Orlandu has decided to find a quiet corner of the land where he can retire in peace, and likely won't be able to come. He wants to keep his whereabouts a secret, but I would like for him to meet Rachel if he gets the chance. Mustadio has sent Cloud back to his own world, Luso's searching for his friends again, and Balthier has gone...well, nobody really knows.”

While Ramza had been talking, Agrias had risen from her seat, pressed her lips against Rachel's tiny brow, and crawled under the sheets of the modest bed.

“Well, I can understand the Count not being able to make it," she opined, "but, Meliadoul? Why not?”

Ramza sighed as he slid under the covers and sidled over to his love. “I guess she’s still not over Izlude’s death. I can’t blame her, since Alma isn’t either. I worry for both of them,” he said as he entwined his arms around Agrias.

“I understand, but there is nothing you can do but give them time to heal. You’ve already done all you could for this country and her people. It's time you think about your own happiness for once.”
His earlier silent adoration for his love dawning once more in his mind, he replied simply “I know.”
Tugging her in closer so that his form melded into hers, he took a moment to silently revel in how much she and their child meant to him. His hands roamed her torso, finding it softer than he remembered from their first night together, but just as smooth and with the warmth of happiness radiating from it rather than the chill of despair and disillusionment he recalled from the grim days following Ovelia's defection to Delita.

Normally, such a gesture would have elicited some grumbling from Agrias about the remaining weight gained during her pregnancy that yet lingered on her otherwise statuesque form, but all that passed her lips was a sigh that brought the young Beoulve up short.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, unable to keep a hint of urgency from his tone.

“Ramza…," Agrias began after a long pause. "With everything that's happened, I never had a chance to tell you that I’m sorry you lost your family’s home. And, your name on top of that.”

The young Beoulve smiled almost nonchalantly as he gently took Agrias's face in his hand before giving her a kiss. “Don’t be,” he whispered. “As long as I’m with you and Rachel, I am home. I already have all that I ever wanted and I regret nothing.”

“I see…," Agrias replied, letting out a sigh of relief. "I’m glad you feel that way. There were times I found myself wondering if your life might've been simpler if...well...”

"Simpler doesn't always mean better. It would've been simpler to go back to Igros after Fort Zeakden, but I haven't wanted my old life back since Teta died. After that, after seeing that even a Beoulve could stoop so low as to go back on their word and take an innocent life, I wanted nothing to do with them. The castle, the wealth, the acclaim...it all seemed so pointless by comparison. I wanted to make something else of myself, something better."

It seemed that Agrias approved of his words, for she shimmied down in his grip and tucked her head beneath his chin.

"And, I'd say you've succeeded," she opined. "I know you've probably heard this before, but I think your father would have approved. And, I'm glad it's you who will be at my side as we raise our child.”

“So am I…," Ramza paused for a moment, gently pressing the holy knight against him. And, in that moment, his ever-heavy heart seemed finally and truly mended as the light of their love shined upon it and sheared away the lingering thunderclouds of the War of the Lions.

Being with Agrias, raising their child, was a truly perfect island amidst the storm tossed sea of time they'd travelled over the last two years and he did not want to leave it. Ever.

"Hey, Agrias?” he spoke up, surprised he could get the words past the lump in his throat.

“Yes?” she asked, her lambent bluish-green eyes rising to meet his sky blue orbs.

“I know that it’s a bit late, but…,”

“But, what?”

With one indrawn breath that summoned all the courage he could muster, he let out five small words with the power to change the world. “Will you marry me, Agrias?”

The holy knight stared at her love in shock for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you, Ramza! I thought you’d never ask!” she answered before giving her fiancé a passionate kiss.

And, amidst the wonderment of their newly sealed pact to, at long last, wed, and beyond the blessed years that lay ahead as they would raise their daughter and keep her safe, there was more. It was a subtle fluttering of memory in the back of Ramza's mind which, little by little, coalesced into Delita's voice. When that distinct baritone spoke, Ramza heard, for the first time in a long time, the voice of his childhood friend. There was no calculating undertone, no cryptic words, and no veiled threats.

Instead, his words held what might be an oblique omen that, at long last, the darkness was lifting from the life of the young Beoulve whose pursuit of justice had made him an outcast.

In the back of Ramza's mind, Delita said "King's to you, Ramza."