melodiesoflife | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Characters: Lady Ashelia...and you!
Where: At a dive bar/pub in one of the rougher districts of Aqures Ixen.
When: Post-Night of the Thirteen Moogles, pre-trip to Aqures Ixen.
Summary: After recent events, the Lady Ashe decides to see what she can find out the old fashioned way: people watching at a table in a dingy bar with a bad reputation.

Ashelia sat at the bar, sipping slowly on a flagon of ale. She blended in with the crowd well, despite the fact that she was one of very few women in the establishment. Her hair was tucked under her red mage hat, shoulders bared in a red peasant blouse, a welcome change from her usual white ones. She wore tight-fitted leather pants, the knee-high boots with what looked like uncomfortably high stilettos completing her look. A red sword belt hung loosely around her waist; she had opted for an epee this evening. She was confident in her ability to out-finesse any of the drunken curs in the establishment should they not take kindly to her rebuffs.

She narrowed her eyes as she took another sip of her ale. Dreadful stuff. But she wasn't about to be picky just then. There was every possibility she could hear something, or talk to someone that could give her a lead in how the Empire had infiltrated the city - or continued to, as the case may be. With the spies' ability to teleport, Ashelia didn't think it could have been that hard.

But the seeds. They had been using Baltoro's Seeds for the ceremony that fateful night. A large quantity of them, from the looks of things. Yeul had told her it was all connected, and the queen had a feeling she was starting to see just how that might be.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ramza whirled around when he heard his name. "Ah, Lady Ashelia," he greeted, a little surprised to see her in such a dingy establishment.

He raised his glass to her, giving her a sheepish smile. "My friends used to tease me, but I dislike dulling my senses with drink." Not to mention that, growing up with fine wines and brandy from the expansive Beoulve wine cellar, he was probably too picky for the selection of a pub of questionable repute.

"And what about you?" he inquired back, "A sudden thirst for ale, does that indicate vice?" He did not imagine she had come here for the beverage, and it made him wonder what her true purpose was here.

Ashelia lowered her voice considerably and leaned into the conversation. "Simply Ashe will do while we are here."

She cleared her throat, leaning back again. "Fair enough. I am here to do what is done at establishments such as this: listen." She took a sip of her ale, grimacing ever so slightly at the taste. "This swill is as much to blend in as any of this." She motioned to her outfit. "Although, to be honest, I am beginning to see the appeal of such apparel." Balthier's penchant for leather pants had less to do with style and more with utility; Ashelia had been surprised when she made that realization at first, but Balthier had always been more than he seemed.

"There is something I must needs find out. That night in the forest, before the battle I was able to see a bit of that ritual...they were using a certain kind of seed." Ashelia leaned on the bar in an uncharacteristic manner. She did look as though she belonged there, though. "Some time before that, there was a dearth of those seeds in this city. I took it upon myself to lead an expedition to find them for...personal reasons." She waved that away. "There is a connection. I mean to find it."

Ramza nodded. "My apologies," he murmured before she leaned back. He should have guessed she would wish to remain anonymous here. The place hardly seemed befitting of her station.

He sipped his mug of milk, to much more enjoyment than Ashelia seemed to take from her flagon. "I find it matters little what you drink, if you are willing to purchase a beverage for the folk you wish to listen to." He glanced at her outfit, an assessment of its utility more than how it fit on an attractive lady. "It is durable and allows for movement. I do not envy you those boots, though," he admitted. They looked more like weapons than proper footwear.

Ramza put his mug down on the bar. "So whoever was behind the ritual had been planning it for some time," he ventured. "But some of their pawns were new arrivals like myself. They could not have anticipated using them from the start of it."

Ashe couldn't help but laugh. "You may not have noticed, but I am somewhat diminutive in stature. These heels are a necessary evil, but no hindrance for a swordsman such as myself." This was all said very matter-of-factly; she wasn't gloating, she was just that sure of her skill.

The queen nodded along with Ramza's line of reasoning. "Perhaps it mattered not. What we saw Snow unleash that night in the wood, he is not capable of as one of our number. He described his condition, before he fell victim to the sickness, as something he suffered from in his homeland. I daresay his transformation, and the power that came with it, was entirely his own. This dark crystal...I posit it severed his ties to his crystal. He did lose it, after all..."

She trailed off, pausing for a moment in thought before continuing. "Though mine own crystal was not stolen, I experienced a similar return of my natural abilities. My magicks and technicks were returned to me. I was once again able to call upon the Dark Scions..." Ashe trailed off again, a somewhat pained look on her face. Going back to her diminished abilities as a Hero was hard. I need more power if I'm to set this all right...

Ramza quirked a smile at that. "You may not be as tall as those you face, but I doubt anyone would think you 'diminutive' once they saw you in battle, boots or no" he pointed out.

Ramza's face darkened as she mentioned those powers she had regained. He reached for his glass and took a long sip, wishing for a moment that he had followed Ashelia's lead and ordered something stronger. He put the mug back on the bar.

"About that..." he began, tentatively. "That...creature...you summoned, do you know what it was?"

Ashelia nodded solemnly. "Of course. Ultima, the High Seraph." Among the others Ramza may have seen that night. "Long ago, she led the revolt against the gods, plunging the world into darkness for eons. She and her brethren were eventually punished for their insolence, sealed away in the Glyphs of the Beast."

The queen looked down into her cup for a moment, lost in thought. "Until my companions and I laid claim to their power. Our need was great. I could see no other way. Without the nethicite..." She shook her head. There was no reason for her to explain it all to Ramza. "Why do you ask?"

"Ultima, the Bloody Angel," he echoed back at her, gravely. "Over a thousand years ago, she and the other Lucavi demons were vanquished by the Twelve Zodiac Braves, led by Saint Ajora if the Church is to be believed. Using the power of the Zodiac Stones, they defeated the demons...or so it was thought. The demons survived within the auracite, and there they waited to be found by suitable hosts."

His hands shook as he remembered the horrors of those demons. He did not meet Ashelia's eyes as he recounted the tale. "When they found their hosts, they corrupted them. Some began with great darkness in their hearts, but others were not so evil to start out. But all became monsters when they surrendered to the Stones."

He paused for a moment. A deep breath. "The High Seraph, she required a pure host. So they took...they took my sister. Ultima possessed her, would have used her body to destroy Ivalice if Alma had not had the strength of will to force her out." His shaking hands clenched into tight fists, and he finally met Ashelia's eyes, his own amber ones wide with emotion.

"You cannot trust the strength of that demon, my Lady. She will make you a puppet for her dark ambitions. You may have been strong enough to defy her thus far, but her power will poison you."

He looked away. "Barkeep, a real drink, if you please," he called out, needing something stronger than milk if he was to speak any more of the Lucavi.

Ashelia looked at Ramza, wide-eyed. "Ivalice? You are from Ivalice?" He mentioned things she had no idea of though. The Zodiac Braves, this Saint Ajora...although...

"I shall take your warning under consideration, of course, but you have nothing to fear. The espers are tools. Their will is yet bound by the Glyphs." The queen met Ramza's gaze squarely. "My companions and I succeeded where the Scions failed. We defied the Occuria, defeated one of their number, broke their control over the fate of mankind. I control the seraph. She does not control me." Something about his words made her feel uneasy, though, as did the look on his face as he explained everything. "You said yourself your sister defeated Ultima."

Ramza nodded. "Yes. Have you heard of Ivalice? I did not think anyone else from my world had been brought here."

The bartender slid a flagon of ale his way, and Ramza took a greatful sip. It burned on its way down, a welcome relief to the icy cold dread that spread across him as he realized Ashelia would not heed his warning.

"They are more than tools," he insisted. "They have wills of their own, and they will never cease seeking to free themselves from the bonds that hold them. My sister escaped Ultima's clutches, but only after the demon had drained her power to form a body of its own. If my allies had not been there to slay the Seraph, she would have taken Alma back." He had to pause a moment at the thought of that. Alma was safe now, he reminded himself.

"The other Lucavi...your 'Dark Scions'... if you must have power, use them instead of the High Seraph," he pleaded. "They at least have the capacity for to be used for good. Their power can be shaped by the user. I have seen it happen. Ultima has no such potential. She uses the elements of Light, but there is only darkness within her."

"Heard of Ivalice? I am a daughter of Ivalice." And then, barely above a whisper, "I am the Lady Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca, Queen of Dalmasca, last trueborn descendent of the Dynast-King Raithwall." Ashelia's eyebrows furrowed. What is the meaning of all this?

The queen clenched her jaw. Ramza certainly seemed to know what he was talking about, and she wanted to heed his warning, but without the espers she couldn't guarantee her people's safety. If he was only asking her not to use Ultima, though...

'Tis a moot point. My magickal ties to Ivalice are severed once again.

"I shall heed your warning, should my magick return once again. I'll not call upon the High Seraph's power."

It was a good thing Ramza had set his flagon down, because if he had been sipping it, he would have chocked at Ashelia's words. He visibly tensed, restraining himself from the instinct to drop to his knees in front of her.

'She is under cover,' he reminded himself sternly. Though there was, of course, no such kingdom as Dalmasca, Ashelia was as royal as they came. He could not bring himself to doubt her.

"I...have heard not of Dalmasca, Your H-" he bit back the title. "Is it far from Ivalice? I confess I am far behind on foreign affairs in the kingdom." There were kingdoms to the east that Ivalice had cut off contact with. Perhaps one of those was Ashelia's Dalmasca.

"Thank you, Hig...Ashelia." Relief washed across his features at her promise. He knew what great power that damned angel could offer, and he felt a profound gratitude that Ashelia considered his word trustworthy enough to cast aside that power. "The world will be safer if Ultima never again sees the light of day."

"Far from Ivalice? Dalmasca is within Ivalice, standing at the crossroads between Valendia, Ordalia and Kerwon." The queen didn't seem too happy that Ramza didn't know of her kingdom. "I just narrowly avoided a war between the empires of Rozarria and Archadia." He may be behind on foreign affairs, but there was no way he could be ignorant of the decades-long conflict brewing between the empires.

If only Ramza knew that Ashelia would never completely cast aside that power; however, as she no longer had any access to it anyway, it didn't hurt to pay lip service to that fact. "You mentioned a Saint Ajora as well?"

Ramza frowned. As distasteful as he found politics, he kept himself well informed of the conflicts going on within his homeland. A Beoulve could not simply ignore the plights of the kingdom.

"I know of no Dalmasca. There is only one king, or queen, if the Princess Ovelia ascends. The monarch rules from Lesalia. The territories of Gallione, Fovoham, Zeltennia, Limberry, and Lionel are ruled over by nobles, and Mullonde falls under the control of the Church of Glabados. The kingdoms of Ordallia and Romanda fall beyond the kingdom's borders." That was basic geography that any good Ivalicean noble-child would know.

Perhaps Ramza was being too trusting, but he found no reason to doubt the lady, neither that she was Queen of Ivalice she claimed to be, nor that she meant her promise to cast aside the Seraph's power. There must be something more to the matter.

“Yes, the false Saint, Ajora Glabados. Do you know aught of his legends?” Ramza asked, fighting the keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Ajora Glabados? Ashelia had been looking at the bartender idly, but when she heard those words her gaze snapped to the errant knight's face. Something more valuable: the Cache of Glabados. I await in Bervenia. She looked down at the ring on her finger.

The names of the other kingdoms rang bells for Ashelia, at least she thought so. She hadn't much intelligence from the western kingdoms since most of her attention had been on rebuilding Dalmascan society, but she did know from her childhood schooling that they were almost constantly at war with each other.

"Legends?" The queen shakes her head. "Not at all. I do know an Ajora - 'tis not a common name - though his surname is most certainly not Glabados, and he is decidedly not a saint. He is a spy. My spy."

Ramza noticed her eyes flick to the ring she wore, but he did not question her about it. The lady's secrets were her own to keep.

"Curious. The saint was truly a spy, sent to spread dissent within the Holy Ydoran Empire. The Church of Glabados, founded by his followers, concealed that fact, and recorded only the tales of his miraculous deeds and miracles." He smiled bitterly at the queen. "Many of us placed our faith within the Church, fought and died for its lies. I pray your spy does not follow in the Saint's footsteps."

That sort of talk merited more ale. The broken shards of Ramza's faith still cut deeply when prodded. The drink might dull that ache. He took another long sip.

"Footsteps?" Ashelia might have been somewhat ignorant of the state of the western kingdoms for someone in her position, but she definitely would have heard of a Saint Ajora, and there was most certainly no such thing as the Church of Glabados in her Ivalice. The Cache had been discovered and used - she herself had rode through the sky on its wings. The only thing resembling a Church of Glabados was the legions of sky pirates openly drooling and snapping at Vaan's heels for his command of the ship and its auracite.

"Ramza..." Did she want to say this? To put this opinion out into the universe? The theory was the definition of insanity, but stranger things had happened. Two separate Yunas. Two Genesi, each seemingly the same in all but gender.

And yet, if Ashe was indeed from the Ivalice of Ramza's past, then the revelation could sever their ties completely. If she was responsible for the rise of this Saint Ajora, whose lies had caused Ramza and his innocent sister such pain...

She shook her head, pushing the thoughts out of her mind. There was no reason to push the subject either way. She needed friends here, not enemies. "In any case, we must needs focus on the task at hand. The ritual, the seeds, their connection to this moogle and the moogle's connection to the Heran Empire."

There was not a breath of relief, per say, when the conversation turned back to more relevant events, but Ramza would have been lying to say he was not grateful to have the talk of Church and demons put aside. The lady had promised not to consort further with the Seraph, and that was all he could ask for. The rest was his own burden to bear.

"Yes, we are meant to listen to clues. I apologize for the distraction." He turned to the barkeep. "Rumors are floating around. Have you heard anything interesting about recent events?" he asked, sliding a copper gil coin to the man on the other side of the bar.

[[ooc: Is there characters are supposed to pick up here? I figure most of the clues are coming from the Cat and Mouse event. I can totes have Barkeep tell us lovely things about the weather and the favorites on chocobo racing and all that ;D ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only