The squawk of seagulls and other ocean birds rang over the glittering blue field that was the sea. On the wooden platforms, men hauled crates, boxes and chests into the waiting ships, laughing and joking all the while, almost drowning the calls of the creatures overhead. A woman walked pass them with a Chocobo tied on a lead, the bird shuffling after her obediently.
Ramza had finally managed to fit on the last piece of armour properly, locking the clasp on his chest tight. His sword was already buckled to his waist; it never got far from him nowadays. With the number of ambushes and attacks he'd suffered since saving Mustadio, it never hurt to be prepared.
Mustadio had gone off somewhere to check up on supplies, while Ramza had stayed behind to continue planning the rescue of the Princess from Lionel Castle, just a little longer. Sword and all, he couldn't have stopped Mustadio from racing off the ship like that, slightly green and sickly looking. The day-long boat ride had not done his insides any favours, and Ramza had not had the heart to tell him that it would be safer staying inside the boat; at least, until any patrols from Lionel Castle had passed.
Opening the door to the outside, he stopped for a moment to breathe deeply, taking in the sea air, as opposed to the musty and slightly stale air of the cabin. The sunlight was refreshing compared to the glow of a lamp; he had hardly slept the previous night for worry.
Stepping off the deck of the ship onto the solid grounds of the port, he took a quick glance around, warily looking for any uniforms or suspicious characters; it never hurt to be prepared.
Surprisingly there were none. He looked closely everywhere and at everyone, but it really did seem like this little port was untouched. "Seems like there are no Lionel Troops in Warjilis," he murmured to himself, rubbing the pommel of his sword unconsciously. As he continued to look, however, one person caught his eye. In fact, that person was staring at him, wrapped in plain, white cloak, draped around his shoulders, with dark brown hair slicked back and a handsome face...
"Delita! What are you doing here?" Ramza exclaimed, both in confusion and excitement. Their last farewell had been quite abrupt at Zirekile falls, and he had been thinking of Delita. Storming the Sand Rats' Cellars had been something similar to sneaking into a castle. Of course, against soldiers and not Death Corps troublemakers. Perhaps he could help.
Ramza walked quickly up to him, and they began to stroll around the port. The town was a quiet one, with small groups of people walking here and there, sailors still busy loading goods onto their ships. Away from the dock, the tap of their boots against the stone floor began to be more noticeable. As much as they walked, Delita would not look at him.
"Don't take our information network lightly." Delita said quietly, still refusing to look at Ramza.
"Our?"
Silence, for a few seconds, punctured by the continuous cry of sea birds.
"Ramza, go back to Igros, for your own sake."
"Why? What's going on?"
"It's healthier for you to keep your business out of things like Princesses. Or Zodiac Stones."
They both stopped walking simultaneously.
"Delita, what are you..."
"I know you're trying to rescue the Princess. Information network aside, it's something a man like you would do. But rescuing her from Cardinal Draclau will only save her from one problem." Delita finally looked at Ramza in the eye. Ramza remembered how he had looked before Teta's death. The face of a normal young man, sometimes unsure and unsettled, confused about his place in society, as a peasant taken in by a noble family. Now it was a face, brimming with confidence, sure of all his actions.
"You're thinking of saving the Princess from a burning tower, but instead, you're just lifting her to a higher floor. I, can save her from all of them. I, can get her out of that tower"
Ramza shook his head, frowning worriedly. "Delita, what do you mean? I don't understand what you're trying to say."
Delita walked forward a little, back facing to him now. "The best methods don't always lead to the best results. Just remember that."
He took another step, his boots tapping against the floor, before Ramza grabbed his shoulder. Ramza felt the coolness and hardness of armour underneath, felt the gentle indent of a crest on the shoulder guard. "Wait," he said, half angrily. "What are you planning? What... game are you playing with me?"
Delita stopped moving. He looked at him for the last time.. "Larg, Goltana, your brothers- everyone; they're all caught up in the same flow, even if they haven't realised it yet." Turning his head back to face the front, he gently removed Ramza's hand. "Me? I'm just going against it."
He walked forward slowly and steadily, Ramza watching his back sadly, before he stopped abruptly.
"Don't die, Ramza," was all he said, before he turned the corner, and disappeared, leaving his old friend to mull over his words.
This might be copyright infringement, but I'm such a huge fan of Final Fantasy Tactics that I couldn't resist. You can probably expect more writings like these.
All rights go to Square Enix.
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