one last spam, guys! <3 WHO: Edgar Figaro WHAT: Moving on. WHERE: Figaro Estate in Galbadia. WHEN: Backdated to the morning of September 2, Wednesday. WARNINGS: N/A
“And once you’ve arrived back in Balamb Garden, will you give me a call?”
“Depending on what kind of welcome I receive, I might forget but I’ll do my best.” Their voices echoed in the high-ceilinged hallway that led them out to the sunny exterior of the estate. It had been two days since he’d dared to come close to it. Now those sure, crisp footsteps made their own marks in the acoustics, as did the wheels of his luggage when he parked it next to him to face the older man who was following him. His hand stayed on the grip tagged Edgar Figaro. Two days later, it was time to move on. It wasn’t about to go anywhere. “If not me, then I’ll ask Sabin or Red to do it. Or to remind me. Or maybe I’ll send a text.” He smiled brightly. “Whichever comes first.”
“I’ll appreciate smoke signals all the same,” Chance said with a shallow bow. “Shall I prepare your schedule then for tomorrow?”
“Give me a few more days to reacquaint myself with my backlog.” Edgar raised his hand and shook his head. Drawing his eyes up to the proud archs that crowned the concrete path, he added, “In fact, I’m not sure I’ll be back here for a while. I disappeared from Balamb Garden for what was roughly a month. I’m thinking of doing the same with this place.”
“I’m sure you’ll be missed, Master.”
He smiled wider, laughter in his nose. He hadn’t heard himself called that way in what felt like a lifetime and he had started to dread its return and the implications of it. Imaginations exaggerated wildly as they would, though. More than a drop of acid to sear his heart, the reemergence of the habit soothed him like Sunday. The absence of his parents remained to be greatly felt in his core and in that quiet space but looking around, what he first saw was not the emptiness, but the sunlight streaming down to paint his walls in warm shades of daylight.
“I need to detach myself from this place,” he said, inspecting the upper corners of his hallway. “Too much memories still linger. I need to disconnect, to put myself away for a fresh start. Dad said there’s no better time to start than today. Or yesterday. But I think…” He had to say it to Chance’s face. “I think that’s what I’ll do.”
“In that case,” Chance turned to his watch, “time’s running out.”
“That seems to be the overlapping theme, isn’t it?” Edgar grinned.
They reached out for a hug, brief and firm, fond pats decorating shoulders before they parted. “Thanks for sticking around, Chance.”
“It will take more than a Sorceress to keep me away, Master.”
“I’m counting on that,” he laughed. “So, we’ll be off, then.”
Chance nodded. Just before Edgar turned to leave, though, he came up with something to keep him back. “Oh, Master!”
“Hm?” The uniform hurrying up the steps to carry his employer’s luggage for him halted snappily when Edgar looked back to face his right-hand man again. From his arm, he saw him reveal a flat leather envelope that looked familiar even without the names tacked onto it.
“I saw this in your study,” Chance said, showing the folio to Edgar. “Will you take it with you?”
Just looking at it reminded him of the weight of his father’s embrace around his shoulders and the bass of his voice just next to his ear. He missed the warmth and he missed listening to him…
He smiled at the folio, but looked up to Chance to tell him, “Keep it in the study. I’ll come back for it.” He breathed in deeply. “We’ll take care of it.”
“Very well.” Chance tucked it back under his arm. “Have a safe trip, then, Master.”
Edgar raised a hand to wave to him. And then he was off, marching to the younger man reaching for his luggage. “Is the car ready?” he asked, hopping down the steps while he sealed the button of his light jacket.
No backward glances. Without another look at his estate, he hurried after his man on his way to the car. They still had a train to catch.