FFX-3 Chat

Chapter 6
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   He had used all his ammunition and the grenades he had, and had slaughtered several of the enemies which were moving towards him. He had only realized the weather change when he had left the island. Forewarning signs always arrived before a storm – oppressive clouds or a stronger wind -, but, blinded by excitement and fear of battle, he had noticed nothing. When we struggle for our survival, we do not think about what will happen consequently.

   The rain was so heavy that he found it difficult to see before him, and the gusts were projecting sea spray into his eyes. The small boat was pitching too strong, he was losing his balance. A string of curses, which would have made his mother unconscious, were rushing out of his lips.

   “Calm down, calm down...” he whispered.

   He wanted to leave the island as quickly as possible. He esteemed he had completed his mission.

   He had identified one of his targets at the top of the air tower. The man seemed young, but that was not Johit. He was dark-haired... Maybe Meroh? His Guards were present, along with someone else, probably a future Aeon Core. It must be a member of his   family or a kin. The more links between Summoner and Aeon Core were strong, the more powerful the entreated creature was. He hoped the bomb had killed both of them. He had to eliminate the mage at least, too dangerous. The others were easy to dismiss.

   This war between the two cities seemed endless, yet he had just given his life in order to put an end to it. Yes, he had sacrificed himself for peace.

   “No...”

   The murderer lowered his hands and raised his eyes to Heaven. The wind was stinging him and the sea spray was interfering with his sight.

   “The truth...”

   He had never thought of the outcome of the war. His single motivation was the Summoner Princess. He would have hoped to live by her side, to be his most loyal servant. He looked back on the ceremony over the course of which he had taken an oath. She had kissed him. The sweet smell of her hands came to mind, and this memory was enough to appease him.


   Suddenly, the murderer appeared to calm down. Valm was crawling in the shallow water. Only his upper head, from his eyes, protruded from the surface. He was approaching. He made out the face of his enemy. He was still a teenager. Had the Mage brainwashed him, or had the young man succumbed to the Sorceress’s charms?

   As if he had felt his presence, the murderer turned over. Valm leaped up and jumped into the small boat. He grasped the black hairs of the boy, attracted him and kneed him in the stomach. The enemy doubled up and vomited. Standing above him, Valm unsheathed his sabre. The teenager let out an inarticulate cry.

   His task completed, Valm attached little importance to the pyreflies of his victim, which were already vanishing. He preferred to rummage through the ship. He found no weapon, but thought that the small boat, equipped with an engine, could turn out helpful. He wanted to call for his comrades, but he had only his fingers to whistle. Maybe a fire... No, because of the storm, none of these solutions would prove to be efficient. Shading his eyes with his hands in order to see more clearly, Valm turned in the direction of the top of the island.

   “O Luchera, Goddess of War! Grant us your blessing, and protect us with your outspread wings!”


   Hidden under the ground, at the centre of the island, the south Division of the Board of the War was isolated from outside noises.

   The majority of the stationed troops had gathered inside the stateroom. Silence was prevailing in the big room, hardly disrupted by some deadened tears.

   At the centre of the room, the altar was almost indistinguishable because of the sprays of flowers. Kush had just finished the Sending. Sloan, the brother of the victim, was still kneeling, his shoulders heaving with sobs. She came closer to him and put a hand on his strong back.

   Anli, whose real name was Pohlan, was dead, but his beautiful face was so peaceful that he appeared to sleep. The Summoner was still a teenager, yet his soul had just begun going to the world beyond.

   Alb, the team leader, approached.

   “What happened to the murderer, Sloan?” he asked with a voice on the blink because of the age.

   “It was a young girl. I have eliminated her.”

   “What about her soul?”

   “May she come back; I will take care of her once again!”

   Pleated eyebrows, Alb was about to reply, but the arrival of Valm, soaked from top to bottom, prevented him doing so.

   “What happened?” someone asked.

   Valm stared at Anli's corpse without answering.

   After a long moment, he came closer to Sloan to put a hand on his shoulder.

   “I will never forgive them,” the brother of the victim whispered.

   With a gloomy look, Valm acquiesced.

   “We are lacking people,” Sloan continued.
   
He turned to Alb:

   “When will you be able to deploy the mechanical Bedohls?”

   “We are encountering diverse problems, but in a close future, I think soon.”

   “Future? What a vague and troubling word. If you are lacking guinea pigs, leave it to me!”

   “We have already talked about it. This would be useless, apart from restricting the number of Bedohls and wasting my time. Force will not solve anything.”

   Sloan s-n-i-g-g-e-r-e-d:

   “You should say that to the Mage!”

   “Alb,” Valm spoke. “you appeared to take pleasure with your research on the Bedohls. But we are eagerly awaiting their arrival. We need this reinforcement, combatants which will work as long as one of our enemies will be alive. We must protect the Summoners and their Aeon Cores forever.”

   Kush was ready to cry, every time a future was mentioned. His eyes staring at his brother's corpse, Sloan raised his voice:

   “Let us rummage through the island. Some enemies may still be present.”