aorin | FFXII Fic: Courtly Love, Chapter 2 (Reply)

The worst is over (or at least I like to think of it that way...). Finally over, and about time too. Quite drained at the moment (especially if you were puking your guts out for the night and struck down with fever), but I'm in a pretty good mood. For now, I would just like to get a good night sleep, and once I'm more awake and refresh tomorrow, I shall attack my fics with a vengeance, and finish some of the AMV projects which I've been sitting on for weeks. Also, shall buy some felt to make a Basch and Ashe plushie XD

Title: Journey
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Series: Courtly Love
Characters: Basch, Ashe
Rating: PG
Summary: What if the person you love is presumely dead? Would you continue to wait for him or would you settled on an arranged marriage forced unto you?

Courtly Love

Journey

“Sir Basch.”

Why was Basch here? By all laws, physics and logics known to the princess, she surmised that he shouldn’t be here. By right, he should be miles away within the Bhujerba lush and green forest at the hunt, chasing wandering fiends, playing guard to her brother or maybe celebrating the success of capturing a Wild Saurian or two. He should not be here, it was just plain wrong. But this apparition of Basch standing before her looked real albeit faintly livid, an expression which Ashe never had the privilege to see, or he had just never shown as he had always managed to retain sobriety.

Ashe thought that maybe if she ignored it, it would disappear. Unfortunately, many things in the life of a princess did not work that way. Hence, Ashe did what most sane people would have done in her shoes.

She slammed the door in his face.

Backing away from the door, she rushed over to her bag and yanked the strings open with unbelievable force and rummaged frantically through the contents. She could dimly hear the door creaking open and heavy footsteps – reminding her of murderous gigantic Slaven - looming nearer to her, she quickened her search.

Finding what she wanted, she spun around to find Basch closing in on her like a crush-determined Demon Wall with one hand outstretched. She closed her eyes and flung the sleep mote at her assailant as hard as possible.

Thud. She heard something hit the floor with a dead faint.

Nervously, she opened her eyes to find Basch lying inert on the floor face down. Looking up, she found Djojo as immobilized as his master; the only difference being the moogle was still upright and his onyx eyes were wide-opened.

“Quick, help me pull him inside before somebody notices us,” said Ashe, kicking the door shut.

“Oh my kupo, oh my kupo-po, Sir Basch is going to kill me when he wakes up, kupo,” Djojo stuttered as he helped the princess haul in the unconscious knight while envisioning his impendent doom. He wondered if Basch would butcher him with mercy or would he perform a slow and torturous death and he sincerely prayed to all things holy in Ivalice that hopefully Basch wouldn’t skin him and turn him into a handbag. Not that Basch needed one though.

“How did Basch find out? I thought he left with my brother for the hunt,” she wondered as they hefted the knight arduously onto the remaining bed. Her well-thought out plan has been officially thwarted by the appearance of this knight captain and she turned to glare at the squire accusingly, “Djojo, did you inform him secretly?”

“Kupo. Nay, my lady, I swear. Come to think about it, kupo, I have not seen Sir Basch the entire day. He left early this morning, and instructed me to follow Lord Ash, kupo” clarified the edgy moogle, waving his hands frenetically in front of him.

“Then, why is he here?” asked Ashe, pointing at the oblivious knight. Djojo responded her question by shaking his furry head fervently. “We’ll just have to wait until he wakes up.”

This regrettably would not be happening until another few hours. Like an avenging angel, Ashe purposefully seized the blankets and started to wrap it around Basch, not in a tuck-in-bed manner but rather in a confine-the-prisoner method.

“Lady Ashe, what are you doing, kupo?” enquired the distressed moogle, his voice a pitch higher than usual, as he didn’t like what he saw.

“Don’t interrupt me, Djojo. Help me tie him up,” she ordered tersely, her hands busy with the occupation of tying up the captain. “Tight!”

“Oh no, kupo,” whimpered Djojo, as he hesitantly moved forth to assist her and peered ruefully at his sleeping master.

And while they were busy with the meticulous task of bundling the comatose captain, they hardly noticed the slight jolt of the ground, indicating the departure of the skyferry from Bhujerba.

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Basch awoke to a heavy pounding in his head and a low buzzing in his ears. His head felt muddled as though a suicidal bomb had seeped in and decided to conveniently detonate itself in his brain. He groaned and shook his head to disperse the dizziness, he tried to raise a hand to massage his forehead and help him shake off the vertigo when he realized he couldn’t move his arm. His eyelids fluttered open to see a pair of silhouettes on the opposite bed. Ashe and Djojo. Sobering, he recalled the incidents before his fall, and his eyes snapped wide open and he struggled to stand.

His feeble attempt to stand failed as he lost his balance and fell back onto the bed, his head slamming against the wall. Double vision assaulted him and he saw four pairs of eyes staring at him curiously through his half-slit eyes. Looking down, he was appalled to find that he had been bounded tightly by a quilt and thick curtain cords which confined all forms of possible movement. Utterly subdued, he turned to glare at the patron of his current state.

A pair of grey orbs glared back at him with hostility while the black orbs diverted their gaze to everywhere but at him. From her curled lip and defiant eyes, he could read her mind and tell that she was prepared to strike bargain with him. One in which he had total disadvantage based on his current captive condition.

“My lady, would you be so kind as to release me?” said Basch, his voice stressing at the last two words.

“Not until you promise me that you would not prevent me from visiting Nabradia,” said Ashe indignantly, her firm intonation made it clear that there will be no room for further discussion. “Give me your word, Basch, and I will release you.”

“Prevent? Nabradia? Would you justify our destination?” questioned Basch, his face clouded with incomprehension mingled with shock.

“Nabradia, of course. Do you think that my brother would be able to stop me? I assure you, I have all these thought out already. You need not fear about our return passage, for I have left my brother a note regarding this matter.” She spoke with the air of pride, as if inwardly congratulating herself for her ingenious plan.

No one in the kingdom would ever doubt the fact that Lord Ash and Lady Ashe are blood-related, after all, they both possessed identical physical features, share similar behaviour traits and bears the same family name, B’nargin Dalmasca. But Basch would very much like to add another attribute to the list, and that both of them are equally stubborn and obstinate as well, “Are you entirely sure that this skyferry flies to Nabradia?”

“Yes,” she answered confidently. “I even asked the ticket lady for proper directions to the skyferry. Vaama means right while daksina means left, right?” she asked, turning to Djojo for confirmation which the moogle agreed with a fervent nod.

Like the fair sky after a rainstorm, Basch’s confused expression scattered away to be replaced with a look of dawning comprehension. Sighing inwardly, he shook his head and corrected the princess, “Just the opposite, daksina means right, vaama means left. You weren’t paying attention in lessons it seems.” Despite the grave situation, he couldn’t hide a smirk from emerging on his face when he saw her flabbergasted expression. He was right; they didn’t know where they were headed to.

“Both of you took the wrong direction and boarded the skyferry to Rozarria.”

The truth came crashing down on Ashe and she shrieked, her piercing voice reverberating the small room, “What!”

“Oh kupo,” mumbled Djojo meekly as he ebbed away from the fuming princess. Turning around sharply, Ashe advanced towards shock-stricken moogle in an almost predatory manner. Sensing the danger approaching him and that his moogle life was in jeopardy, he raced to the exit as fast as his short legs could carry him.

“Get back here, Djojo! When I catch you, I am going to throw you off this ship,” she threatened while chasing after the quick-feet moogle.

“Wait!”

Forgetting that he was caged by sheets and cords, once again, Basch shot up, only to end up falling back onto the bed; his head revisited the same spot from earlier. It hurt and he growled, and this time he was absolutely sure that a bump was going to grow. It was too late anyway, as they were already out of the room, and Basch was left glaring at the swinging cabin door, as though mocking his restricted state.

After disentangling himself – a tough combination of writhing and squirming – from the mass of blankets and curtain cords, he lifted his free hand to massage the sore spot on his head and subsequently caught sight of the condition of his arm; the cords had bitten into his skin and rendered it into a sickly purplish hue. Being a knight, he was accustomed to various forms of injuries but he didn’t hold a record of being wounded by a wayward princess and moogle, he was bested by them and the thought was disturbing.

He went out of the room in search for the princess and his squire. It wasn’t hard to locate them as they were creating a noisy racket on the deck of the ship. He made his way to the deck to find Ashe chasing after Djojo in circles around the deck of the skyferry and inviting a large host of onlookers at their display. Basch shook his head and left them to their antics as he went directly to the bridge to enquire if the ship can detour back to Bhujerba.

The answer he received was not what he wanted to hear.

Returning back to the deck, he found that the multitude of onlookers had expanded substantially to watch the catchy spectacle performed by the Dalmascan princess and knight-aspiring moogle. Currently, the moogle was clutching tightly onto the flagpole while the princess was shouting death threats beneath him – nothing too obscene but definitely not something King Raminas would be pleased to hear. Pushing himself through the crowd, he headed towards the princess and grabbed her firmly around the waist while his other hand beckoned for Djojo to slide off the flagpole.

“All right, that’s enough,” said the tensed knight, as he hauled the princess up to his waist and marched away from the scene, subsequently ignoring the suspicious glances thrown at him.

“Sir Basch, I demand you unhand me this instance,” Ashe wailed, wriggling out of his grasp and kicking him painfully at the ribs. “This is not the way to treat a lady.”

Back in the cabin, he placed both of them on separate beds – something that Basch recalled his mother would have done whenever he and Noah were caught up in a brawl. The princess glared at the both of them lethally, grabbed the pillows next to her and flung them at Basch and Djojo respectively. Basch caught the pillow swiftly while Djojo was struck down by the unexpected attack. Gathering his thoughts, he eyed the two partners in crime and decided to interrogate his squire first as he was mostly likely to spill the truth.

“Djojo, explain yourself,” demanded Basch, as he eyed Djojo penetratingly, daring him to lie.

“I, uh, I, oh kupo. Lady Ashe threatened me. She said that if I do not carry out her bidding then she’ll knock me unconscious like what she did to you. She was planning to leave for Nabradia and I couldn’t let her highness run off alone, so I yielded, kupo,” Djojo confessed miserably.

“I did not threaten him. I requested him to escort me and he obliged. I even offered him a bag of kupo nuts,” she retaliated haughtily, folding her arms across her chest.

“You sold your soul for a bag of kupo nuts,” he stared at Djojo incredulously, as his squire cowered sheepishly.

He knew his squire all too well, Djojo wouldn’t have dared to assist the princess on this escapade unless he was coerced to, and that was mostly likely what had happened. Under different circumstances, he would have praised the princess’ well-conceived plan but in his current predicament, he couldn’t even bring himself to smile.

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That morning, Basch had left the estate to fetch the prince’s Lohengrin from the local blacksmith. His return was delayed as there was huge crowd of customers and it took him longer than he had expected to retrieve the sword.

Upon his late return to the estate, he found two tiny conspicuous figures creeping out of the front gate. He identified one being his squire immediately but couldn’t quite distinguish the other, as the person was shrouded with a cloak. Out of curiosity, he followed them until they reached the aerodrome, and he was perplexed even further, what business did his squire had in this place. He lost sight of them due to the bustling crowd, only to find them later heading straight for the Rozarrian skyferry.

Keeping them at close watch, he pursued them until the entrance of the skyferry when he overheard the exchange between the doorman and the princess. When he was halted by the very same doorman, he explained that he was the guardian of the previous two young passengers and was then allowed immediate access. Soon, he found himself inquiring the chief steward for their room number which she gladly gave him along with a flirtatious wink. After numerous turns and twists through the maze of corridors, Basch finally located the room and was about to open the cabin door when Ashe beat him to it and gaped at him with disbelief.

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“My lady, what would you have to say for yourself?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” she answered with a glacial tone while glaring at him pointedly, her face showing no remorse for her actions.

Basch gritted his teeth, though his expression remained stoic but his voice was intimidating, “Lady Ashe, do you understand the consequences of your disappearance? Dalmasca and Bhujerba would be thrown into an uproar when they failed to find you in Nabradia. The three countries would be conducting no less than a full-force manhunt for you which would be futile because they are unaware of your current disposition. His majesty, Lord Ash, marquis Ondore and even Lord Rasler would be extremely worried about you. Have you never considered their concern? Leaving for Nabradia on a skyferry without the company of a proper cortege is a reckless and irresponsible action, and you are putting yourself in unnecessary peril and worrying everyone. And what’s worst is that you’ve boarded the wrong skyferry to Rozarria, how do you suppose to return then?” reprimanded Basch, his words sounding harsher than he intended.

Silence reigned within the room as the truth of Basch’s words sunk in, and Ashe finally fathomed the weight of her selfish actions and the chaotic pandemonium it would ultimately lead to. She bit her lip and her dainty head drooped perilously low but she managed to hold back her tears with much self-exerted effort. She would not cry before Basch.

“None of this would have happened if Ashari had agreed to accompany me to Nabradia in the first place,” she finally answered, her voice sour with bitterness.

Basch would have been surprised if the crown prince would appear any less than hysterical. He could almost picture Ashari’s horror upon the discovery of the absence of his sister. No doubt, he would be screaming hysterically while galloping to the nearest airship and speeding towards Nabradia, the exact opposite direction of Ashe’s current location.

“Perhaps, but you might have judged Lord Ash too harshly,” he answered in a softer tone, as he noticed the normally headstrong princess was dangerously close to tears. He wanted her to understand the outcome of her rash actions but he hadn’t meant to make her cry. “Escaping from the manor is not the solution.”

Basch ploughed his fingers through his hair anxiously, what was done was done and there was no reason for him to chastise the princess any further. In truth, he was somewhat relieved that he trailed them onto the skyferry, as he didn’t even want to consider the possibilities of what might have happened if the princess ended up in Rozarria alone. Faith in his squire he had, just not that extensive.

“I’ve spoken with the captain of the ship and he told me that it would be impossible to detour back to Bhujerba and we are out of transmission range, thus we couldn’t inform anyone of our current predicament. There is not much that can be done for now but we’ll depart for Dalmasca the instant we’ve landed in Rozarria.” With that, he knelt down before Ashe and regarded her with a solemn expression but his voice was filled with gentleness, “My lady, please grant me permission to protect you until we’ve return to Dalmasca.”

“I do not need your protection,” she replied defiantly, not meeting his eyes.

“Nevertheless, you will receive it,” replied Basch firmly, and he beckoned for Djojo to join them while he continued, “We would be landing on enemy soils, and I am not about to alert them that a member of the Dalmasca royal family is here without proper retinue. Hence, we would be journeying under an alias and we are to address each other with it, least the Rozarrian notice your presence. Lady Ashe, you’ll assume the alias of Amalia and pose as my younger sister until we return to Dalmasca. And Djojo, you’ll be known as Djojo.”

Djojo looked offended at the idea of his identity being of no importance, while Ashe tried to muffle a chuckle.

“What about you?” asked the pair simultaneously, their young faces brimming with curiosity.

“My name will be Noah.”

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Ashe woke up the next morning to find herself alone in the cabin room. She quickly glanced over to the two other beds to find them neatly-made, showing no signs of habitants and she was suddenly overcome by a surge of fear that Basch and Djojo might have abandoned her. But her baseless fear was mollified when she noticed the Lohengrin leaning at Basch’s bed along with Djojo’s haversack.

Rubbing her eyes groggily, she made her way to the bathroom and proceeded to clean herself. Moments later, she emerged from the bathroom feeling fresh and awake, glancing out the porthole at the blazing sunlight, she realized that it was almost noontide and that she had missed her breakfast. It was then that she noticed there were some fresh fruits and a cup of milk resting on the vanity table. Picking up the cup, she downed the drink with a single gulp, grabbed a star-shaped fruit and exited the room. The hallways and corridors were mysteriously deserted, as did the normally crowded observation parlour, even the stewards and storekeepers weren’t there and it was gloomily silent. Suddenly, a thunderous cheer erupted from above and Ashe quickly climbed up the flight of stairs which led her to the scene of clamour.

She giggled at the sight which greeted her.

On the center of the spacious air deck, a tall blond knight was exchanging sword blows with a tiny moogle. Basch effortlessly evaded the incessant blows thrown at him, while giving appropriate instructions to his squire, whilst the attentive moogle listened with full concentration. Their battle feat had garnered them a large amount of spectators who were cheering wildly at their mock-battle. The men were predominantly supporting the little moogle while the women were applauding at the captain’s seamless skills.

“Go for it, shorty. Get him where it hurts,” someone shouted.

“Kupo, who are you calling shorty?” Djojo yelled back, he raised his fist and balled it at the impolite spectator, however his action only managed to draw further laughter from the crowd. “I am considerably tall for my kind, kupo.”

“Pay attention, Djojo,” chided the knight captain, giving his sheathed sword a sharp tap on the ground to show his displeasure.

“Yes, sir, kupo,” answered Djojo, he brandished his sheathed dagger and readied himself.

He dashed forward and Basch met his attack valiantly, both weapons clashed. He drew back and propelled another powerful blow to Basch’s left, which was blocked swiftly. Stepping back, Djojo hopped to his left and aimed for the right side of his master’s torso which Basch automatically twirled to his right to defend the oncoming blow but Djojo gave a sharp turn in the end to his master’s defenceless left side and Basch was forced to flick his arm back to strike his squire. Djojo predicted his reaction and he managed to dodge back to his right at the last moment and rolled behind the knight. Basch’s earlier rebuttal had caused him to face the opposite direction, leaving his back precariously exposed against the coming attack. Seizing the opportunity, Djojo grasped his dagger tightly and charged, his victory a mere hands-length away when he suddenly found himself somersaulting above Basch and crashing into the audience. Apparently, Basch’s final coup de grace strike was that without turning around, he swung his sword over his right shoulder to block Djojo’s attack to his back. Conveniently, the sword slipped between Djojo’s arms and dagger and latched itself there, and when Basch withdrew his sword over his shoulder, Djojo was lifted and catapulted over to the cushion of spectators.

“I surrender, kupo,” squeaked a voice from within the crowd. Now Djojo genuinely believed that Basch had eyes at the back of his head.

Basch let out a hearty laugh and approached his squire, “Well fought, my young apprentice but you still have much to learn. For one, never attempt to attack me from the back.” Wordlessly, Djojo vowed he would not attempt any time soon. The woozy moogle tried to present him an affirmative nod but ended up swaying his head sideways. Bending down, he effortlessly pulled his squire up and steadied the dizzy moogle on his feet when he spotted Ashe amongst the crowd.

“Good morning, Amalia. Did you rest well?” enquired Basch as he walked towards her whilst leading his squire, and his face broke into grin when he saw her nibbling on the fruit he had left her earlier.

“It was fine,” answered Ashe gallantly, with a slight hint of cheerfulness. Her hunger satiated, her fatigue cleared, it was bright sunny day – all in all, she was in a better mood after all the catastrophic events yesterday. She saw him eyeing the fruit she was holding and she quickly chomped on the remains while blushing under his gaze, and she altered the subject by questioning him, “What are you doing?”

“Morning-training, kupo. Sir Ba… I mean Noah, insisted that we should continue our daily morning exercise even if we are on air, kupo,” informed Djojo, steadying his head and flipping his dagger.

“Every drop of sweat in training is one less drop of blood in battle. There is no excuse to slack off even in our current situation,” he paused when he saw Ashe’s eyes transfixed to the sword he was holding. “Amalia, would you like to join us?”

“I could?” said Ashe zealously, hardly able to contain her excitement at the offer. Correcting herself, she quickly answered indifferently, trying to hide her interest, “I mean I could if you insist.”

“It would be an honour if you would join us,” he answered sincerely.

Basch glanced at his mythril blade and at Djojo’s dagger, and he frowned. Both weapons were unsuitable for the princess’ petite hands, it would be too heavy and laborious for the princess’ grasp and the crown prince’s Lohengrin would be out of the question, she would be crushed under its weight. He reached out to his waist band and extracted an ornamented dagger, its scabbard was encrusted with magicite and it glinted brilliantly under the bright sun beams.

He sighed and then smiled, and handed the dagger over to the princess.

Ashe eagerly accepted the dagger though she was puzzled by the moogle’s stunned expression. Even at her young age, Ashe could recognize the value of the dagger in her hands and appreciated its exquisite beauty. It didn’t require a genius to figure out that the dagger was crafted with great workmanship and her heart felt strangely elated that Basch would lend her such a precious dagger to use for training.

One year ago, Ashe had implored her father to permit her to begin her arms-training but her brothers, particularly Ashari, had strictly prohibited it and persisted that she was still too young to handle weapons and she might accidentally hurt herself. Her father had then succumbed to Ashari’s biased opinion – girls should not be encouraged to wield a sword – and delayed her training. After constant pestering from Ashe, King Raminas had finally conceded and proclaimed that she would start her arms-training as soon as he found her a suitable instructor. For months, the subject had never been raised again.

They walked to the center of the air deck, Ashe imitated his sword stance as best as she could, and Basch geared himself for her attack. And the battle began.

Time passed swiftly and before long, Ashe was drenched with perspiration from the strenuous activity but it did not dampen her mood. Her jejune attempts at defeating him were proven laughable, her dagger couldn’t even come near to an arms-length of him – her only notable experience of sword-fighting was through various stealth observations whenever her brothers would train with Basch or the other captains – but she did manage to put up a good fight. He countered all her feeble attacks with unwavering determination and Ashe was glad that he did not provide her with any leeway and that he took their training seriously without treating it as a child’s play. Their combat lingered on until the sun-drenched afternoon and it came to a sudden end when the cook of the ship – a peevish-looking Seeq – stepped in between them. Raising his mighty ladle and formidable frying pan, he banged them together deafeningly to announce to the knight, princess and the large host of passengers that it was way past lunchtime.

“Thank you,” Ashe thanked him sincerely, while handing the dagger with both hands back to him.

A flicker of mild surprise leapt to Basch’s face at her admission of gratitude, and was soon replaced by a brilliant smile, “You are most welcome.” His eyes swept over the dagger momentarily, and he gently pushed the dagger back to her, “Keep it with you until we’ve returned to Dalmasca.”

During their period of confinement within the skyferry, Ashe detected a few subtle details about Basch which puzzled her. Why had she not noticed it earlier? As stealthily done as it was, it did not manage to escape Ashe’s silent observation. Firstly, Basch was indefatigable. Every morning, he would be gone for his monotonous morning training with his squire which Ashe had absolutely no idea when they had begun training but she suspected it was before sunrise, as she always found them soaking in sweat when she joined them.

But she had never failed to discover a glass of fresh milk and some fresh fruits lying on her vanity table every morning.

At noon, when the sun was blazing over their skins, they would retreat back either to the observation parlour or the games room where they would engage themselves in a round of chess or other board games available. She was relatively surprised to find that Basch, a man of arms, would be adept in playing various board games. Following her brother’s suit, she challenged him to many rounds of chess during their time on the skyferry. Like their sword practice, he never gave her any leeway but many a times he had provided her with the opportunities to execute her newfound skills against him.

But not once did she win him, both in sword and chess.

During meals, he would provide her with lion’s share of the meal – despite knowing that she would not be able to finish it – while he would satisfy himself with the leftovers. He would secretly fan her warm stew, which did not go unnoticed by Ashe, and he would never start his meal before Ashe took her first bite. His gentlemanly behaviour baffled Ashe, as her former impression of knights was that they were a bunch of boorish man with brusque mannerism and atrocious table manners.

But Basch had proven all her theories wrong.

As for night time activities, Ashe would retire early as there weren’t much interesting activities during the night and she was too young to visit the sky saloon. She heard from Djojo that Basch would frequent the sky saloon in the evenings for information but Ashe had never witnessed him doing so. If he did, he must have left the room after he was assured that she was asleep and safely tucked into bed.

The name Noah sounded foreign to her tongue – to Ashe, Basch was Basch – and it seemed weird to address him otherwise but since they were travelling undercover and it seemed fun, thus she obliged willingly. She rather liked the name he chose for her, Amalia, it sounded sweet and feminine, and she briefly wondered what it meant to him. She liked her name Ashe well enough, but most people tend to confuse her with her eldest brother Ashari whom had claimed the soubriquet Ash long before her.

At the beginning of the journey, Ashe was stubbornly convinced that the trip was going to be boring and disastrous, but she was pleasantly proven wrong and soon came to enjoy the company of the amiable knight. Her opinions of Basch changed drastically through the course of their three days journey over half the world, and though she tried to retain her façade of indifference at his presence, she could feel herself warming up to his quiet and gentle demeanour.

And before their skyferry landed safely on Ambervale, Ashe underwent a complete change of heart towards the good-natured knight, a pristine feeling which Ashe was too proud to admit.

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Ambervale, the heart of Rozarria, and home to the Margrace family was a magnificent city, just as its name stated, a glorious ochre metropolis situated within a valley. A kaleidoscope of wonders, the city was crammed with grandeur and majestic architecture – from the heaven-touch skyscrapers to the reticulation of busy sky-traffic – and almost everything screamed gil. The cold-steel high constructs of Ambervale were less history-spent and lacked the ancient and warm aura which Rabanastre radiated and its people most certainly did not whisper friendly. Everyone seemed to put on airs of arrogance – in every corner there were a myriad of sartorial men, prim ladies and conceited-looking children – but, this was probably how a modern capital would have been, compared to a time-worn city.

And Basch was currently having a first-class taste of the city’s sociability.

“What do you mean 50, 000 gil?” asked Basch, his handsome features fabricated into an apprehensive expression.

“I meant what I have said, sir. The flight back to Rabanastre costs 50, 000 gil per person. And it would cost 150,000 gil for three person,” said the ticket man with an obnoxious tone. His snooty gaze took a stroll over Basch’s simple appearance and his eyes briefly roved over at his two little companions and he added coarsely, “No discount for moogle and children.”

“That’s not the point, it only costs us 200 gil from Bhujerba,” Basch argued, his hand gripping tightly on the hilt of his sword.

“That is because the skyferry that you’ve rode on earlier is from the Royal Bhujerban Company, a poor choice if I may say so,” the ticket man commented, his voice buttered with a layer of mockery. “This is the finest Rozarrian airship ran by the distinguished West Ivalice Company and seeks to provide you with the best comfort, ensuring your safety during your travels.”

Paying but a half-ear attention to the cocky buffoon’s memorized sales pitch; Basch silently brooded over his present mishap.

There wouldn’t be another flight back to the eastern continent within the next two weeks. The fare between all the destinations were the same, it was the frequency of each flight which was different. Farther destination such as Archades and Ambervale were less frequented by Bhujerban airships; and there were only two flights a month. With that, Basch came to the exasperating conclusion that the next affordable flight back to Rabanastre would be in two weeks.

He couldn’t possibly wait that long.

He thought of sending a messenger to Dalmasca to relate his situation and request for backup but then he would have to notify the Rozarrians; and that was not a path he would tread. He pondered his other options which included lodging until the next possible flight or he could possibly hunt some marks and collect enough gil for their trip home. Both of the options seemed unlikely, lodging in Ambervale was extremely costly and not something that he could afford for two weeks. While hunting elite marks was a preferable choice, he wouldn’t be able to conduct the assignment with the lousy supplies he had. It took them three full days to reach Rozarria by skyferry, and it would probably take them a week or more to reach Rabanastre by chocobo and if they were to wait for the next flight, it would be another two weeks plus three days travel.

“Of course, you may always use the most primitive method of travelling. Chocobo back might solve your financial problem but I feel obliged to warn you that safety is not guaranteed. The Yensa Sandsea nowadays had become a hazardous journey, infested with ferocious fiends and Urutan-Yensa, I must inform you that the notorious denizens of the Yensa Sandsea enjoy the company of weary travellers,” the smug ticket man continued, his features gleamed with an overbearing sneer.

“Thus I would suggest…,” he ended his speech abruptly when Basch cast him a hostile stare – one that Noah would proud of if he ever saw it – while he planted his sheathed blade on the ground. A horrified expression replaced the ticket man’s egoistical one – faster than Djojo could mutter ‘kupo’ – when he finally noticed the two heavy swords that Basch was concealing.

“Never mind,” Basch muttered as he trudged away from the terrified man. His princess and squire trailed behind him while struggling with supreme effort to suppress their laughter at the man’s reaction towards Basch’s wrath. “Daylight-robbers.”

The Dalmasca trio sauntered through the posh streets of Ambervale, they seemed and felt visibly out of place. An armed moogle, a finely-dressed petite girl and a stoic man holding two swords wasn’t a common view in Ambervale or any part of Ivalice – maybe Balfonheim port could be an exception but that was because that sky-pirate-infested port attracted all sorts of bizarre folks. Their ternion camaraderie was earning strange glances from the crowd and after passing a third rich couple who shed them a furtive peek and whispered nasty words behind their back, Basch decided that it would be unwise for him to continue his task with the company of his two young charge. Thus, he left the princess and his squire at a less-crowded square and headed straight for the nearest armoury.

As of norm, Basch wouldn’t even envisage himself selling royal possessions but desperate times called for desperate measures and he reluctantly broke his own conduct by selling the crown prince’s Lohengrin. He just hoped that the prince would be kind enough to overlook this aspect when he returned to Dalmasca with the princess safely.

Recounting the gil in his hand, he was highly doubtful that they would make it back to Dalmasca with the meagre amount of gil he now possessed. Even travelling on chocobo back would require a substantial fee and he still had to take into the consideration of the supplies they would need. Alone, he wouldn’t mind travelling across the heavily-guarded Rozarrian borders and the ever-scorching Yensa Sandsea but he had a young charge to care for and he feared that Ashe might not be able to withstand the complications of voyaging through the vast distance between Ambervale and Rabanastre.

He put the coins back into his pouch, fastened the knot and made a beeline to the fountain where he had left the princess and squire. He released a relieved sigh when he found them gazing in awe at the colossal fountain and he was glad they didn’t wander off on their own. The last thing he needed now was to conduct a one-man search party in the vast city. From a distance, he saw them backtracking away from tall edifice to gain a better view; unaware that there was someone behind them, both collided into the unwary person causing the young man’s sunglasses to fall. Djojo skittered forward to retrieve the glasses and gave it to Ashe who took out a handkerchief and wiped off the grim, she then presented the glasses back to the young man apologetically. The young man recovered his glasses graciously and proceeded to pat the princess’ head when Ashe sighted Basch. Before the man’s hand could come in contact with the princess’ fair head, she had side-stepped and ran towards the knight captain with Djojo following closely behind her.

“Is everything all right?” asked Ashe with a concerned tone when she saw Basch’s grave expression.

Sensing their discomfort and not wanting to burden them with the unsettling circumstances, he erased his grimace and donned a forced smile. “I am afraid we’ll have to travel by foot, the fare to return back to Dalmasca by air is too expensive and I do not have enough gil to accommodate the three of us. I shall seek the Chocobo wrangler at once and gather the necessary provisions for our return.”

They both nodded, even at their young age, they could comprehend the reality of their troubling disposition. With silent consensus, they turned away from the piazza and started walking away.

“Excuse me, but perhaps, I may be of some assistance,” enquired a cultured-tone voice. The trio turned around to find themselves face-to-face with a dandily-dressed gangly teenager with a pair of huge sunglasses which covered almost half his face – the same man which Ashe and Djojo had accidentally collided into earlier.

Basch was partial to the idea of being eavesdropped on – especially when they were trying to conceal their identity in this foreign land – and he eyed the intruder inquisitively. He was ready to cross his arms and inquire the stranger’s purpose when he felt Ashe’s little hand slipped into his own.

“I overheard your conversation and I can’t help but be saddened by your distressing plight. From your foreign appearances, I reckon you are Dalmascans who are unfamiliar with local terrain. Hence, I can assure you that the passage across the Rozarria borders is no leisure cruise on chocobo back. You won’t be able to journey far with a child and moogle. Might I offer you a free ride back to the Nam-Yensa on my private carriage?” he continued.

“What have you to gain?” asked Basch, his tone clearly painted with suspicion at the unusual offer.

“To show you the same courtesy you’ve shown me,” he joked, as he tapped the rim of his sunglasses and lowered it to reveal his deep startling black eyes. Straightening, he explained, and his voice took on a sincere tone, “Honestly, I mean no harm. We are heading towards the same direction and I thought of offering you and your companions a lift, I would much appreciate the company, and you would receive a free ride. A fair exchange, nothing more. My journey ends at the oil construct in Nam-Yensa as I have some important business to attend there and I would travel no further. You may then continue your trip to Dalmasca on chocobo back.”

It would be advisable to take this stranger’s offer, even if the proffered ride would only bring them back to the Sandsea. This nosy stranger didn’t seem harmful – despite a little chary-looking with his secretary and those weird sunglasses – but, he did seem rather honest with his proposal and Basch’s doubt began to subside. Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers. He’d just have to trust his instinct and this stranger, for now.

“We will partake in your generous offer, sir… How should we address you?” enquired Basch congenially.

“Tsk… names and titles mean nothing to me. Al-Cid, at your service” remarked the young man suavely, as he took off his sunglasses and handed it to the lady beside him.

“You have my thanks. I am Noah, this is my sister, Amalia and that is our friend, Djojo,” introduced Basch, in a cordial tone to their new companion, as he performed a curt bow which Djojo mimicked expertly.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir,” Ashe said courteously and dropped into a light curtsy. A princess must always observe proper etiquette, she reminded herself.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Al-Cid returned charmingly. He suddenly knelt down and took Ashe’s hand into his and placed a light kiss on it. Blushing, Ashe quickly retrieved her hand from his grasp and slipped behind Basch. Her childlike reaction earned a throaty laugh from the brazen teenager and Basch’s brows creased into a light frown. “Let us proceed to our carriage and begin our journey, shall we?”

Once again, he felt Ashe’s hand laced with his own, and this time, he responded by tightening his grip to reassure her.

As the party of four made their way to the carriage, Al-Cid had turned his attention back to Basch once more, whilst not breaking his stride.

“Say Noah, do you play chess?”

To be continued…