melodiesoflife | Remembrance

Ramza picked his way through the rubble gingerly, not wanting to disturb the abandoned city any more than the Barkeep did. He had a pack slung over one shoulder, its contents making the leather sides bow out a bit.

His eyes swept back and forth across the landscape, trying to reconcile the wasteland with the city he'd seen back in the summer.

"The morning after she played for us, I walked her back to the inn she'd been staying in. It was on the far side of town from our own. I know not where she went from there."

"Always the gentlemen, aren't you?" A hint of a smile appeared on his face. This wasn't the appropriate time to talk about potential lost matchmaking, but on a grim situation, focusing on something lighthearted helped.

"Then that's our first stop." He paused in the middle of an intersection and turned around, trying to remember where the inn used to be, where the mini-booth games used to be, how the crowd milled around during the afternoon, when the festivities were at full capacity.

He turns to a broken water fountain, dry by now, that should be familiar to Ramza. "Then that's the way we have to go."

Ramza did not understand the cause of the Barkeep's amusement. "She had done us a kindness, and she needed to walk across the city with a heavy instrument. I only did what anyone would do."

He took in the sight of the crumbling fountain, and had a brief flashback of what it had looked like during the city's prime. A young woman had sat there with her treasured lute, not knowing that the rest of her life would be numbered in days, not years.

He knelt down, studying the ground around the fountain. The worn-down ghost of brick paths and walkways were still there beneath the dust and grass. He found the one to follow and stood back up. He pointed down the path. "This is the way we went."

Ramza and the woman would have made a cute couple if it weren't due ther potential death. Jim had married after he went forward in time, and he seemed happy with the wife from 500 years ago, which was actually his second wife. It could have worked out even with the time travel.

The Barkeep followed suit and observed the artistic design of the fountain while Ramza inspected the area. It must have been impressive back in the day, possibly one frequented by townspeople all over the world during the festival.

"This is where you met?" He took lead and followed the path Ramza pointed out.

Ramza nodded. "Yes, this is where I found her," and hired her to play for us without any embarrassing misunderstandings. The incident seemed far away, less mortifying now in this somber atmosphere. He wished the Bard was still alive to tease him about it.

He started down the path. "...do you really think we shall find anything here?" he asked quietly as he retraced the steps of a couple decades before.

The Barkeep kept an eye on the road in front of him, careful not to accidentally trip over rubble. Aqurez Tosf was a large city and thousands had lost their lives in one day. There may not be anything left of the bard, but even so, they had to honor her memory, even just by visiting the places she had been during the last moments of her life.

"I can't be sure what we'll find somethin'. Even if we don't, we should at least honor her memory." She seemed like a sweet girl. She had a hard lot in life, but despite the awkward tension between her and Ramza that lasted throughout her performance, she wasn't all that bad.

The two neared an old building. The air around it was a bit chillier, though the Barkeep wasn't sure if that was due to how thermodynamics worked or if he felt nervous coming across a building where people once lived.

"How much more do we have to walk?"

Ramza turned down a side path as they reached the landmark building. The bard had been staying at a less repudible establishment, a little too far on the wrong side of town. He had been glad he had walked her there, at the time, though he had gotten the impression that she had known how to take care of herself...at least, where non-apocalyptic problems were concerned.

"'Tis not much further. Up ahead, to the...to the right, I believe."

He too felt a chill, though he attributed it to the memory of walking down these streets that time before, in the early morning light before the sun had driven away the previous night's chill.

The Barkeep huddled in this robes more tightly. It definitely was colder here, probably just the wind.

"Yeah, but how much farther? Don't think I can walk too much in these conditions for more than few more minutes." His shoes weren't made for harsh adventuring conditions; the pebbles were starting to pain his feet.

Another not entirely destroyed building rose up from the rubble. A small house, shabby like most of the ones in this neighborhood, and possibly boarded many young woman during its prime. "Was that it?"

Ramza nodded. "That is where I dropped her off. We can go inside and see what we can find."

Even if they found nothing, it would get them out of that chill wind for a few moments. Ramza might be used to rough terrain and exposure to the elements, but he was not going to push Barkeep past his limits just to assuage his guilty conscious for not saving the Bard's life.

He stepped into the decrepit structure and took a look around.

The Barkeep followed, and without a safe place to sit, he stood in the middle of the room where the floor was surprisingly clear of debris. The furniture was knocked over and what used to be cheap paintings on the wall had fallen to the ground and were coated with a thick layer of dust. The inside of the long-abandoned home was eerier than the destruction outside.

There used to be people living in here.

"Is it just me, or did it get colder when we got inside?" It was as if the course of the cold was coming from inside the building.

Ramza knelt on the ruined floor, murmuring a prayer for the souls that had one lived there... the souls the 'Heroes of Light' had failed to save.

'God, please help these lost children of Crystallis.'

The cold in here was biting, much more than the intact walls should have allowed. When Ramza breathed in, the dusty air felt so cold it hurt. Steam rose from his lips when he expelled the breath.

" 'Tis unnaturally chill here. I think we should not linger."

The Barkeep stood to the side, and seeing Ramza put his soul into this, he mumbled a prayer as well. He wasn't a very religious man, but he's been to plenty of funerals to understand the solemness of this.

Two different religions, both praying for those who tragically lost their lives. It all comes together in the end.

The cold snaps the Barkeep out of his trance and he shivers. "Y-Yeah, let's get out now." He turned to the door to leave.

A cold wind gently blew at Ramza.

Ramza paused on the way to the door. The wind came from the wrong direction to be streaming in through the open doorway. An odd draft, to say the least.

He slipped his pack from his back and drew out the gift that had filled up most of the space inside. It was a lute, small, but sturdily crafted, and new. He placed it on the remnants of an old chair.

"This...seems a good a place to leave this as any. It'll be sheltered here. She would not want it exposed to the elements, I think."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate it," he adds. He could almost see her sitting on that chair, tuning the instrument as she prepares for another performance. Her skirts would be folded over as not to get in the way of her playing, and then she'd smile at Ramza and softly sing...

...The Barkeep rubbed his eyes at stared at the space above the chair again.

"It is just me, or is it gettin' a bit foggy in here?" Or was that smoke forming just about the lute? He hoped there weren't monsters nearby.

Ramza looked to the Barkeep, then back at the instrument. Yes, it was blurry now, obscured by a mist that was certainly not normal.

"We should leave. Now." The spirits Ramza had encountered in his world were dangerous and hostile things. If such a thing was manifesting here, it was best to move quickly onward rather than risk angering it.

The Barkeep did not have to acknowledge how much we agreed with that plan, because he began running to the door the moment the mist looked less like a natural phenomenon and more like a creature out to attack them. Brilliant idea, coming out here when there were ghosts and other malevolent spirits in Aqures Ixen.

A sound, almost like a human's voice, comes from the fog. There is no message. The voice is high like a woman's, wordless, but her voice is not dissonant and grating.

In fact, is almost sounds like she's practicing for a song.

Ramza paused by the door, listening to the ghostly singing. It did not sound angry or vengeful, though of course, there were creatures that could hypnotize with a song. Best to be on their way, before any magic could take hold.

"Be at peace, Lady Bard," he called quietly before he turned to leave the building.

The Barkeep continued to watch the ghostly apparition now that it wasn't actively attacking them. Still, he made sure to step back cautiously while keeping an eye on the chair. Crystallis was filled with unusual situations, and finding a ghost was on that list.

Just as he turned to the door, he noticed the fog was taking shape from the corner of his eye. "Ramza?" He jogged to the young man to grasp his shoulder. "It's startin' to look like a real person."

He tilted his head back at the chair while walking out the door, even just so that Ramza could get a glimpse of the ghost that was singing.

Ramza turned back to examine what Barkeep had seen. Sure enough, the mist was taking up form. Ramza recognized the figure.

"It really is her," he whispered to the Barkeep. "Out of all the spirits to linger here, we found her."

He took a step closer. Why hadn't she moved on? Surely her soul destined for something more than lingering in a ruined city.

The mist finally congealed to reveal a pale, ghostly vision of the bard from twenty-eight years ago. She sang in a clear, if echoing, voice that left an eerie presence in the room. She didn't appear to notice Ramza until he took a step closer, where she opened her eyes and glanced at him for a split second.

The Barkeep stayed back and shook his head. "Must be incredible luck on our side."

"Luck...or maybe fate. She might need help leaving this place."

Ramza walked back into the room, in spite of the danger, and knelt in front of the Bard's chair.

"'Tis time for you to go home, lady. Your concert has ended."

The Bard ceased moving her fingers and the room went silent, even the echoes were missing. She looked up at Ramza's face, and for the first time, revealed her eyes.

They were hollow and empty with tear stains forming from the corners down her cheek. Despite her calm demeanor in which she performed, her face was anything but.

"...Please let me stay. Just one more song."

Ramza closed his eyes for a moment. He wanted to be kind, to let her keep playing if that comforted her...

...but sometimes, it was not kindness that people needed. It was strength.

He opened his eyes again to meet her tear-stained ones. "There is no one left to sing to. They have all gone. Why do you stay?"

He was not even sure if she knew what had happened. Was she aware of the present, or was she still lost in the world of twenty-eight years before?

The bard clutched her lute to her chest. "I live here. There's so much music I still have to play...I've been waiting for an audience for so long..." To her luck it was the kind young man who walked her home after bringing her to the inn basement for an unusual performance.

"Ramza," the Barkeep walked up next to him and put his hand on his shoulder. "She died in the prime of her life. Why wouldn't she still be here?" He turned to the ghost. "You didn't have no one else to play for?"

She shook her head. "I've been so alone...It's quiet here."

"Can you...leave this place? If you need an audience, come back with us. You can play your fill...and then you can move on." He would welcome a ghost into his house, if that was what it took.

He gestured at Barkeep and himself. "We cannot remain here for long, lady. This is not a place for the living anymore."

Damn, this was not how he thought this trip would go. He'd come for closure, and now he had to find a way to ensure a restless spirit found peace.

The ghost looked at the entranceway to the hall, bustling and full of life in her memory. There was no one now, not even the ghosts of young women like her, poor and looking for a better life. Just her and her regrets and the memories of the last day of her life.

She looked at Ramza and the Barkeep. Both men had wanted her to only play music during the dead of the night, and both were especially kind to her, offering her a good place to rest and walking her home. If only more men were like them...

"Alright..." She stood up still clutching her lute. "Where would you prefer?"

Ramza looked at the Barkeep. Would a ghost be able to travel in their airship? Was he allowed to bring a ghost back to Aqures Ixen, in any case?

He sighed. No ghost he had ever encountered had been able to stray far from the place they had died.

"Somewhere out of the cold, please," he told the Bard. "If we listen here, we will likely take a chill before the end."

The Barkeep returned a confused look. Ghosts did not exist on Mars, and he didn't know the first time about where they could and could not go. The Bard's ghost seemed peaceful enough; she likely wouldn't leave the two somewhere dangerous, but just in case, he could keep watch and cast a Holy spell immediately at the first sign of a monster.

He did have something to whisper as the Bard mulled over her choices. "Y'know, I reckon most places will be as cold as this one, seein' that she's a ghost and all. That's kinda their thing."

The ghost, meanwhile, stood up. "Would the rooms upstairs suffice?" She had the room that used to be hers in mind.

Ramza looked back at the Barkeep before answering the Bard.

"Will you be alright if we go?" he whispered back to his roommate.

"I will need to examine the stairs and make sure they will hold before we traverse them," he told the Bard, to give them a little more time to figure out what they should do.

He took a moment to consider that. On one hand, ghosts could be dangerous and the Bard would put them in danger, either from other ghosts or the dilapidated brothel. On the other hand, he trusted her to keep Ramza safe. There was some chemistry in the air when she stayed in their room, after all. He had an eye for those sort of things.

He nodded in response. "Just be sure we won't break through the floors, and I'll be good."

The Bard bowed her head, and while her slight frown didn't leave her face, her shoulders relaxed. "...Of course. Follow me." She drifted over to the main stairs and floated halfway to the top, then turned around to watch the two men.

Ramza followed, and he took each stair slowly, testing it with the ball of his foot before putting his weight down completely on it. One stair creaked menacingly as he pressed against it, so he leaned down and marked it with an 'X' in the dust.

"Skip past that one," he instructed the Barkeep. The rest seemed strong enough to bear their weight, and soon Ramza found himself on the second floor of the old building.

The Barkeep lifted his robes and with each slow, heavy footstep, the stairs creaked. He silently thanked that Ramza was considerate enough to help the older man safely make his way up to the second floor. His trailing robes left thick line in the dust on the steps and the wooden boards leading to the Bard's room.

The hallway bordering the hand rails overlooking the first floor was covered in debris; the area furthest away from the stairs ended in a large hole. The ghost stopped by the second door and tilted her head towards the closed door. She drifted through it.

The Barkeep stepped in front of Ramza and twisted the doorknob, which fell off in his hand. He shrugged, pocketed it, and pushed it open with the end of his staff. The darkened room revealed itself with a groaning creak. An unmade bad was pushed to the corner, and any trace of fine linen had been eaten by moths since the many years it last was slept in.

The Bard was standing above the bed with the lute in her hands.

[[~~Ramza still does not know this place is a brothel please don't let him go out in public without an adult, Barkeep~~]]

Ramza followed into the dusty little room.

"I think it feels warmer here," he said to no one in particular. It wasn't, really, but they were here and they were going to enjoy this concert so the Bard could rest in peace.

He sat on the floor and motioned for the Bard to start her final performance.

[~~It's okay, Ramza, Mr. Jiminy is here to chaperone you.~~]

The Bard smiled. "Is it? I can't tell." She looked upwards, turning to gaze at the state of the room. As she was waiting for Ramza, the Barkeep searched for a chair that would hold his weight, but ended up sitting on the floor as well. It wasn't the cleanest of seats, but hadn't they listened to her music while sleeping on the floor?

Kinda nostalgic, when I think about it.

With the two ready, the Bard plucked at her lute and began to sing. With Ramza as her audience, her tune takes a happier tone, a song about pure love between a young man and woman who met under an apple tree in the springtime. There were a few metaphors involved apples that caused the Barkeep to glance at Ramza to check if the reference didn't fly over his head. She didn't know many songs that didn't delve into bawdy territory, but this one was one of the tamer ones.

Ramza frowned a little bit as the song entered into suggestive territory. He could tell there was a hidden message somewhere, but he just could not put his finger on where. But he was certain that if his comrades from back home were listening, they would be elbowing him and waggling eyebrows.

But mostly, Ramza listened, letting the Bard's soothing voice and skillful lute playing fill his ears. Maybe he was a little hungry for apples at the end of the song, but he'd eat when they were back in their airship bound for home.

Good thing Ramza didn't voice his hunger out loud, because that would have broken the Barkeep's attempts to keep a steady face throughout the song. It was beautiful, and he didn't mind a bit of dirty humor, but Ramza's innocence could ruin the moment.

He'll explain the metaphor later on the ship.

The Bard, while not focused on her playing, looked at the two men. The older one could be a bit stern, but she made for a good audience. Ramza, however, was the main focus. He looked slightly confused, but she ignored that. He was listening. The man who walked her home on the last day of her life.

When she finished, she set the lute sideways on her lap and gazed at the floor. "How did you like it?"

The Barkeep nodded. "Mighty good. You've been practicin' I can tell."

Had she survived the tragedy of Aqures Tosf, the bard would have made a name for herself, he thought. She would have played in venues finer than this condemned boarding house and for audiences more refined than her present company.

There was no way to right the injustice of a life cut short. They could only try to comfort her spirit, and then move on.

Ramza stood, and bowed. He fought to keep his voice steady as he spoke. "A fine performance, my lady. Well worth the wait. I thank you for allowing us to listen."

A hint of a smile graced her ghostly face. "...Thank you, Ramza..." She stood up, reading to step towards the two men on the floor, but stopped herself, realizing something.

"There somethin' else we need to do?" the Barkeep asked. He was concerned that she was going to disappear right after that song, but she seemed just as translucent as before.

The bard pursed her lips, eyes straining to stay open, then looked at Ramza. "...Could you stand up, please?"

Ramza straightened up, not sure what the Bard wanted of him. He stood at his full height, which put him above both the ghostly bard and the still seated Barkeep.

"Like this? What do you need me to do?" He had not been to many musical performances. Did the Bard need a standing ovation to send her on her way?

The Bard plucked at one of the strings and hesitated. She knew she had to tell Ramza her true feelings before she could pass on, but it was a daunting task. There weren't many men she knew that she could say were worthy of being loved, yet...

Ramza was different.

She took a ghostly breath in and raised her head. Ramza may be taller than her, but her ghostly form allowed her to float the few inches she needed to be face-to-face with him. A few seconds pass as she studies his face, then leans in for a kiss.

It's cold, and mostly incorporeal, but she focused all of her energies on her lips just so that it could feel like the real thing.

Ramza froze as the Bard's face came close to his, standing stock still, with no idea what to do. He could feel the cold of her nose and her hair brush against his skin like a chill winter wind as they touched. Her lips, though, were solid and felt almost warm.

His face went bright red, and perhaps she could feel the warmth of his blush through that ghastly cold around her. He did not know what a kiss was meant to feel like, or if he was doing it right or wrong. Almost of its own volition, his hand came up to cradle her cheek. He remembered his father had kissed his mother like that, in one of the few hazy memories he had of them together. His fingers tingled for a moment at that icy contact, then went numb.

Barkeep was never going to let him live this down, he was certain.

He certainly wasn't going to forget this. Despite Ramza's awkwardness in regards to talking with women, he seemed to know how to kiss one. The Barkeep watched in amazement as the two stood together, hands resting on each others' faces, until the ghost pulled away. If ghosts could have color, her face would be tinged red, but instead it was becoming more transparent like the rest of her body.

The bard looked at her hands let out a sigh. "Looks like I have to go." Her shoulders slumped, but she couldn't bear to look at Ramza again. Her last memory of him had to be a good one, and if his face were to be one of despair as she disappeared, she would regret ever passing on from this world.

The Barkeep, not wanted to interrupt the scene, took great care not to let the floorboards squeak as he pushed himself off the floor. He liked the woman. She has a strong spirit that would do well on Mars, but Palitutu ruined it all. She deserved better.

Not that he could do anything as the bard slowly faded away into the light.

"Goodbye." The bard did not look back at him as she disappeared, but Ramza kept his eyes on her until she was gone from sight.

"Go with God," he murmured when she was gone.

He turned to Barkeep. "We...we can go now." He wanted desperately to be home, and not in this abandoned home of the long-dead bard.

The Barkeep watched the ghost fade away, then continued staring at the spot where she used to be as if he were expected her to return. Monsters disappeared, why shouldn't ghosts, he asked himself. People die, he'd seen plenty of humans killed on Mars, but seeing them at peace before they pass away is a somber moment. She lost much of her future because of a lust for power. She could have had a good life playing music and living with the Heroes.

Ramza brought his thoughts back to the living word. "Yeah, let's do that." He turned to the door, sneaking a final glance at the bed where the bard last performed.

Ramza followed Barkeep out, pulling the bedroom door closed behind him. He went down the stairs in silence, skipping the marked stair once more, and past the sitting room chair where he'd first placed the lute.

Outside of the old boarding house, the wind was still harsh, but the cold felt less oppressive. Ramza turned from the empty house and headed back in the direction of the airship and the land of the living.

Remembrance

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