val works out the bills because math. (valmafra) wrote in missions, @ 2012-08-20 13:28:00 |
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"And how many times have you broken into the basement library?" This man was unfamiliar. The nuns from the east wing titled him as Lord, Valmafra knew. She heard it while acquiring sweet cakes from the kitchens, where the Lady Mother always spent her morning tea time. His robes, a royal mix of golds and purple, were notably very easy to spot from a distance. Up until this meeting, he had been easy enough to avoid. Valmafra watched him cautiously, her chin lowered. "I have been caught three times, Lord." The man raised his eyes from his desk to assess her, his pen twirling angrily between two fingers. This was familiar however, and Valmafra tugged absently at her sleeves. "Not what I asked, peasant girl," he said, the heavy lines of his brow creasing at her insolence. "But you may be excused from your sins if you tell me what you've took from there." "When the Lady Mother found me," she offered quietly, "I had no books in my possession." It was obvious she needed a better hiding place (or another reading candle). "Enough of that, Yevon Savior," the man yelled, loudly enough for his voice to echo. He set his pen down with a violent slap. "What did you take from the holy archives?" "...Ah." The notes were in her equipment bag, the maps folded carefully among them. There was time yet to consider the rest of the General's office. Nobles were always so predictable when it came to their shows of affluence, she thought, stepping around the room as quietly as she could (his guards still lined the halls of course, slipping past them unnoticed was no small consideration). Her cloak nearly caught on the edge of the desk as she moved to consider such a wide wall of books behind it. Had he ever thought to read them, she wondered? Valmafra's slim fingers passed over a number of familiar tomes, appraising their contents from memory and taking one that she didn't recognize. A traveler's account of Gaia, was it? "Such a waste," she sighed, adding the book to her belongings as well, saving it from a life of dust and neglect. At least she could appreciate their worth and knew how to care for them. "—What's that in there? Did you hear something?" Valmafra frowned. Now where was that open window? "When I become a holy knight of Alexandria, I want to be just like Lord Bilbags!" The other girl frowned. "That's not his name, brother." "And how would you know? When did you last stay awake during lessons, hmm? Valmafra, you read about it did you not? Aren't I right?" She nudged the porridge around in her bowl, giving the two other children a dismissive look. "I do not care for these topics." "Hm! What a bore. Our Lord Father says we should all go to training if we study hard. Don't you want to do that?" About to answer, Valmafra was caught off guard by their superior approaching, dressed as always in the same golds and purple. He stood over the table and gave them all a severe look. It was already well after meal time. "If you have time to dally, you have time to do your chores," he said. "Begone the both of you, I need to speak to this one." The boy gave Valmafra a pitying look. "Oh, you've done it again!" The children scattered out of the room as quickly as their Lord could sneer, leaving her alone to be chastised. She tried very hard not to run after them. "Have I?" The man gestured her to follow him. "Come along. I have a task for you today, since you seem to think the study of such things valuable." It was a risky climb down to the courtyard. Unfortunately, the General's remaining guards had taken the time to dash loudly down the stairwells and greet her. There were four of them, each with torches and all of them dressed in armor and red surcoats. Valmafra adjusted the fit of her cloak and waited for them to start circling her like nervous pets. "Trespasser! These damn Alexandrians think they can barge in where they like these days, isn't that right?" Valmafra reached for her dagger. "Hmm, who can say?" One of the men behind her spat. "Damned witch, give us back what you've taken!" "Oh?" She looked over her shoulder. "Such coarse words ill become a man." The materia fastened to her dagger began to glow. Within moments, the evening shadows lining the courtyard began to stir, unknown to the men with brandished swords and bad manners. The Dark, it seemed, took offense as well. The man held the gem out for her to take. He had explained everything very carefully, showed her a book she did not recognize and told her to recite from it as she would her daily prayers. "You have studied magic, have you not?" Valmafra nodded and considered the few brief magic lessons afforded her. She did as she was told and was slightly startled when the gem began to glow in her hand. "But what of these marks on the floor?" The lines on the man's brow creased again, and he folded his arms across his chest and glanced down to their feet. Below, painted (with?) in great detail on the floorboards was a remarkably foreign glyph, the symbols writ in a language that was, she suspected, too old for her to recognize. "That is no business of yours, girl. Now call up the magic and do what I've said." For once, it was less a matter of curiosity and more about obedience. "Yes, Lord." Valmafra took a careful step inside the circle and concentrated on the materia. There was some movement at the edge of her vision, where the candlelight failed to reach. She took a deep breath and tried her best to ignore it. "Gylda-Meuntes-Haatis-Mota-Fehrtes-Ratis-A "What have you summoned?!" The Dark, she knew, had a gluttonous hunger. The men sank into Its maw one by one, reaching out to the Savior with wordless pleas for mercy. Such magic came at a price however, and even now Valmafra could feel the familiar pain burst along her nerves and inside her skull, sharp and loud as the swords clattering against the cobblestones. A minute passed before she doubled over, vision blurred, and Valmafra held herself as if she might otherwise fall apart. There was nothing in the courtyard then but her and a renewed, ominous silence. She reminded herself not to be late several times, that the army was waiting for her to bring the information and they were all nearly an hours distance by chocobo. This work could sometimes be very inconvenient. Valmafra wiped the blood from her cheek, smearing it over her hands. Her voice quavered as she spoke. "Was that acceptable?" "You little wretch, what did you do? How could it have gone wrong?" He took her by the robes and shook her, furious, but she thought it was better they hadn't been eaten by well...whatever that might have been. Valmafra decided she was relieved it had gone back into the shadows. Eventually the man pushed her aside and stalked away toward the chamber door. "Perhaps you should not try to summon things on holy grounds," she offered quietly. Valmafra supposed it was at least partly sincere. He did not bother to look back at her. "Feh! Keep that worthless bauble for yourself." The door shook as he slammed it and Valmafra used her privacy to look, finally, as afraid as she felt. It wasn't until she was once more outside of the summoning circle that she felt at ease sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around herself as a small attempt at comfort. What was he studying down here? She wiped the remaining blood on the sleeve of her robe, aware that the Lady Mother would see it and put her to work in the laundry rooms again. This time, the chores seemed much less daunting. The camp never before looked so appealing. She had been incorrect, however, the trip took two completely exhausting hours by chocobo, and when her feet finally hit the dirt Valmafra was less than certain that she wasn't going to simply pass out. Something that would do no good for her in a war camp full of Alexandria's finest templars, of course, whatever they would prove to be useful for in the next campaign. Certainly it was not gaining intelligence on the enemy, which was why her superiors had sent her away to this region. Valmafra suspected from time to time they simply did it to be a bother. She walked (or limped) over toward the nearest campfire. A pair of men sat near each other with wineskins, bothering only to look up as she neared. "Hail witch!" "Hail witch," said another in tandem, and the two men looked close enough to be brothers. "Bring us something useful from the estate, eh?" Valmafra did not so much bother to nod, sinking further into the small comfort of her cloak. "Where is your Captain?" "Back 'round at the tent, 'course. Got us what we need then?" "Hmm," she grunted in dismissal, ignoring the round of Praise Yevon! as she turned away. Valmafra expected no manners from the Captain as well, but at least she had a book for respectful company. "Well, what is your answer?" He was watching her from across his desk, but now Valmafra could only see the shadows in his eyes, and with them all of his secrets. Was this meant as a birthday gift, she wondered? She sat up in her chair. "You wish me to train like the others, become a holy knight?" "I hardly expect as much." He waved his hand at her as if to prove a point. "But you may be of some use yet, I suppose. The Garden at least should be prepared for your ill behaviors." "I see." "And?" And there was little point in thinking it over, was there? She'd only read books on the world outside of these walls, after all, had never been to the Capital or to Garden. The people must certainly be as kindless and wretched as the the church, but there certainly had to be more room to explore. With some luck, Valmafra thought, she might be able to hide herself from their attention altogether. And this was where her scheme began to form. She nodded her head and tried to look grateful. |