Nightingale sat at the edge of the Firewater Circle. For once, he wasn't here to perform. He was here to think. Recently, he had had the feeling that Bastok was simply too small for him.
He'd been here for over a year now, and this had never been meant to be a permanent solution. He looked at the mid-day buzz around the circle. It hadn't all been bad, not even close. He'd come here alone and friendless, but had soon been followed by Endahren. Nightingale smiled at all the memories that thought brought. The two of them had had a good year. It lacked the excitement his life in San d'Oria had had, but it also lacked the pain.
He closed his eyes. The air smelled of city and rain. Maybe it was time for him to move on. See the world a bit. Maybe write a song or two or three. There were bound to be many subjects for songs out there, with the numbers of adventurers he'd been witnessing in Bastok and San d'Oria these past few years. Already rumors of deeds done were reaching Bastok. Rumors of disturbing events, too, rumors of beastmen rising again and the number of monsters in the increase. What kind of a bard would he be, not going out there and finding those stories to make songs from? He'd only come up with melodies for now, never words. There was nothing to write about than his own life, really, and that did not make for good song material. For the kind of song he wanted, anyway.
Endahren had said a while ago that all his loves seemed to be eager to go out there. That was quite possibly true. Nightingale wondered sometimes how he would take it, him leaving too. He seemed to encourage Nightingale to leave if that was what he wanted. He'd encouraged Ellanore too, and he was engaged to her. He seemed to genuinely want for the happiness of the people close to him. Nightingale stood up. He still wasn't sure what to do, but he guessed that was alright. There was time, plenty of it. At least until Endahren finished his business in Bastok.
Ellanore looked up. The area was unfamiliar to her. Most the buildings here were either relatively new or recently renovated. There were normal houses too, but most of the buildings in the area were mog houses.
The Mog House Management Union was a relatively new thing in San d'Oria. They were a union representing moogles, and giving out housing and rental rooms for adventurers. Ellanore felt something she couldn't quite define, standing there. In the recent years, more and more adventurers had been appearing all over Vana'diel, fighting back beastmen and other threats where national armies wouldn't or couldn't go.
"Is the house to your liking, kupo?" The cheery voice came from beside her. She looked down. A moogle. She still wasn't quite sure how to treat them, she had never talked to a one before today.
"Yes, it appears fine."
"Let's go check the room then! I'm sure you'll be pleased, kupo!" She nodded calmly and marched in after the moogle. She wondered if they really didn't have any marks that defined them as individuals. All the moogles she had seen had looked the same. Or perhaps she just needed to look more carefully. She stared hard at the moogle's back and his - her? - flapping wings, trying to notice something that could be defined as an individual trait. She found nothing.
"Here we are, kupo!" The moogle flew excitedly around the empty room. Ellanore looked around. It didn't appear half bad. She wondered how much furniture cost. She had never paid attention to such things, she had never needed to. But if she was going to do this, she would probably need something here, at least a bed.
She walked to the window and looked down. There was a small garden yard below, green in mid-summer light. "Do you happen to know where one can buy furniture?"
"Oh yes, it's easy kupo. Just head to one of the auction houses." The moogle flew beside her. Ellanore got the sudden feeling that he - she? - looked like he was about to land on her shoulder. Then the moment passed.
"I think... I've decided. I want it. Starting next month. Is that good?"
"Absolutely-kupo!" The moogle started flying around the room again. It looked excited. "I'm so happy! If Master needs to know anything else, Master can ask me!" Ellanore looked at the moogle carefully. She wasn't quite sure if this had been a good idea after all. It wasn't as if she was afraid exactly - many adventurers left the details of their daily lives in the hands of the moogles, she'd heard - but all this excitement wasn't really inspiring any confidence in her.
Well, at least it was done now. She was leaving, no matter what her parents said. She glanced down at the yard again. There was a good chance they wouldn't even be able to find her, once she set out. She had been planning this for a long time now, and wanted it for much longer. She would have her own life now.
Nightingale closed his eyes and sang. The sun was setting, he could feel the last warmth on his body. He sang of desperation and hope, of courage to face the death of the night by yourself, and survive. When he opened his eyes, he could not see the arid city of Bastok, but the beautiful scene of desperation and hope that existed only in his mind.
Then the song ended. With the last notes, he closed his eyes again. When he opened them again, all he saw was Bastok. The gritty reality. He bowed to the several people who had stopped to listen to him. It had been the last song for now. No matter how much he might want to immerse himself in the soothing familiarity of the songs, he was still flesh and blood, and he needed to eat. He nodded and smiled friendly to the few congratulating words he received, and gathered the gil thrown into the box he had put out for the purpose. It was enough for now.
"You sounded more sad than before, when singing that song." The quiet voice made him quickly look up from what he was doing. He knew the person.
"Endahren..." So he had come, chasing his hare-brained idea of establishing a branch in Bastok. Nightingale had told him not to. Still he had come. He looked back down and finished gathering his belongings. He hadn't wanted that.
"Ignoring me now?" That Nightingale did. He didn't wish to talk to this person, no matter how good his intentions were.
"You won't get rid of me that easy, Nightingale. We have known each other for three years now. I can't just abandon you like that, even if you tell me to." Nightingale supposed that he couldn't, at that. Sometimes, he felt the two of them were from different worlds entirely. But he kept walking, increasing his pace. Maybe another night, he would have answered. The day had been rough for him. Not enough gil, he needed to work harder. He loved his freedom, but being independent came with its own set of troubles. He didn't want to meet Endahren today.
"I'll keep following you then." The quiet voice sounded sad. It hurt Nightingale to hear that tone in Endahren's voice, but he kept walking. He feared that if he talked with the other right now, he might start crying, and not be able to stop. He couldn't take this, not right now. He silently pleaded Endahren to go away, give him time to gather his composure.
They had last seen each other in San d'Oria, and Nightingale had thought he had made it clear that Endahren's presence wasn't hoped for. Back then, he had thought it a bad mistake to tell Endahren of his plans to go to Bastok. But now, he wasn't so certain anymore. The days were lonely and long. Perhaps it had been a mistake, but a deliberate one. Perhaps, deep inside of him, a voice had called out - let him come. Please track me down.
Nightingale staggered and bit back a sob. At least he had managed to reach a less frequently used road before breaking down. He leaned against the close-by wall and tried to prevent the one sob from becoming many.
"Nightingale..." He shied back from the soft touch on his shoulder. No, no, not now. But he didn't resist when he was drawn away from the wall and to a much warmer embrace. He laid his head against Endahren's shoulder and gripped him tightly.
"It's all right. I'm here. I won't leave you." The voice, so close, made him break down. He cried, holding the other man like he would never let go. He was dimly aware of the soothing voice and arms holding him tightly, but they weren't important. This presence, it was enough. To be able to be this close again, after all those lonely nights, afraid that someone would find him, someone from his past. He had been so afraid in this strange city, always attracting attention where ever he went. Elvaan weren't too common here, he had known that from the beginning, but somehow it hadn't occurred to him just how much attention he would attract like this.
Eventually, he managed to draw in his desperation enough to stop crying. And when he did, Endahren was still there, holding him. The sun had set, leaving them in almost complete darkness. This small street did not have lamps. At the end of this street was where Nightingale lived now.
"I want to go home," he whispered hoarsely. Endahren was silent. There was nothing he could answer to that, both of them knew that he hadn't meant any place in Bastok. After a while, Nightingale withdrew from Endahren's embrace and started walking down the street again. He didn't feel like going to buy food now, not when his face bore the signs of his bout of crying. He walked to the place he lived in, and Endahren followed him. It was a good thing he was so stubborn, Nightingale thought.
It had been a long day for Ellanore. It was her 17th birthday, and relatives had insisted on coming and congratulating her. She wished nothing but to be left alone. She drew in her feet and hugged them, leaning on the pillar behind her. She was sitting in a secluded corner where you could see out to the lake from. It was a hot August afternoon, and this place was far enough from where people normally walked that there weren't any now, either.
She just wished to leave San d'Oria, that was all. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so. But she could take care of herself, she was scertain of that. And Endahren wasn't against the idea no matter how many times her parents tried to use that as an excuse for forbidding her to leave. Endahren would probably enjoy the idea of a soldier wife, she thought bitterly.
It wasn't like she had anything against the idea of eventually marrying him. But not now. And currently, the engagement was being used heavily against her, her parents always talking of duties and obligations. They didn't want her to make her way fighting, they wanted her to grow up to be a proper housewife and raise children. Ellanore didn't agree with the idea. The mere thought made her feel weird. She didn't want to become a housewife, she wanted to become a soldier, a warrior - a hero!
She looked out to the distance. There were hardly any clouds. Birds flew above the water, catching fish, and she could see boats in the distance. It was a beautiful day, even despite her own troubles.
Endahren had come to congratulate her, too. He'd come early compared to his normal visits these days, right after lunch. He'd been supportive as always, even though he hadn't had much time for her. That had been happening a lot lately, not that it particularly bothered her. She still wasn't quite certain how she should treat him. Ellanore's thoughts flew back to a time a bit more than a year ago. He'd come to her that day, they had gone out to Ronfaure to hunt rabbits. They'd talked. Endahren had asked her what she would do if a friend of hers was being treated badly. The memory of that conversation had engraved itself to her head. After that day, Endahren had become somehow more distant.
It's not like she minded. Really. She hugged her knees to her chest.
She wanted out.
The first stars of the evening shone in the sky. The sun had not yet set, but it was getting cold. Even though this was south from Jeuno, the weather felt colder here. In the distance, getting ever closer, were the grey walls of the city of San d'Oria. It was his first time here since he was five. It had been twelve years since had left. Nightingale wasn't certain how he felt about that, or how he felt about returning. Jeuno had been nice enough, he supposed, and he didn't really remember anything about living in this city.
He shifted his attention from the approaching city to the back of Master Peridaut, the man who he had been apprenticed to at age five and who had taken him out of San d'Oria soon after, to the bustling city of Jeuno. Airships hadn't still been in use back then, not that they could have afforded to get on board one if they had. Even now, there was no airhsip route to San d'Oria, so they had traveled all this distance on chocobo-back. Not that they still could have really afforded to pay the airship fare if the route had been established. While they weren't poor anymore, it was much more sensible to just rent chocobos instead of use exorbitant amounts of gil on something as frivolous as a comfortable and quick journey on a warm airship.
Nightingale sighed bitterly. Oh, if only... It wasn't very comfortable traveling on chocobo in the dead of winter. He had developed a nasty cough that he hoped would fade when they arrived in San d'Oria and didn't have to spend all their time out in this cold air, at the mercy of the elements. He had asked Master Peridaut for funds to even search out a healer of some kind, since their livelihood depended on them looking good and performing well, not bogged down by sicknesses. People did not want to be reminded of the ordinary when expecting to be carried to a fictionary world with no troubles except the heroic kinds.
"Boy, still staying in your saddle?" It was Master Peridaut. Nightingale urged his chocobo on to ride alongside him.
"I am well, thank you. Although I cannot pretend I'll be much better when we get somewhere warm." Peridaut nodded in response.
"Try to take it easy. I already have a healer in mind, they'll cure you up no time. Just be sure not to do anything too taxing the first couple days, you understand that, right?" Nightingale smiled politely and nodded. He didn't for a moment fool himself that Master Peridaut cared for his wellbeing. What he cared about was his voice, which was a precious source of income. Nightingale wasn't shy to admit it, he was a very good singer. It brought some responsibilities with it, not being able to do whatever you wished. Your voice always went first.
He had brief flashes of times when he hadn't put his voice first, but pushed them quickly aside. Those had nothing to do with Master Peridaut, and with any luck he would never know of such things.
In a way, he was glad they were coming to San d'Oria. This could mean a new beginning to him, and while he would loose the freedom of being in a familiar place and knowing all the ways you could fool someone, it would be replaced by the freedom of not knowing everything, and having that protect you. Both had their dangers, and Nightingale welcomed the change.
Concentrate. Draw a deep breath. Raise the bow, draw the string. Hold. Release. Again. Concentrate. Feel the bow. Draw a breath, raise the bow. Draw the string. Hold.
Ellanore's breath misted in the crisp air as she worked on her archery practice. Just the basics. Just the very basics. But strangely, she felt much calmer than she ever had with the sword. This came naturally to her, it flowed out almost effortlessly. Mr Arandant said she had a gift for it, and had become much friendlier towards her since she had said she was giving up the sword. She supposed she had been the only one who didn't see how it did not fit her in the slightest. But this, this was her skill. She had found it, she was at peace. Even though it had been only three months ago she had desperately wanted to learn the sword, she now hardly ever thought about it. Even the rare instances she did, it was only to think how foolish she had been. Draw a breath, raise the bow. Feel it, feel the way the bow had enough power to send forth a deadly missile, small and light but made powerful by the force of the bow.
She sighed happily and lowered the bow once again.
"You look happy." She blinked and looked to the side. She hadn't noticed anyone had approached her, she had been too concentrated on her practice.
"I guess I am." The person observing her was Endahren. Lately, she had felt a lot more ambivalent towards him. Not that she had ever hated her, she was quick to correct herself, but sometimes, having him around had been bothersome. Now, though... Ever since he had given her that piece of advice about going on her own path and not being too caught up with dreams of grand swordsmanship, her thoughts on the matter had been more confused. She glanced above towards the window of her room distractedly. On that table, in a special box that also housed several of her other treasures, was the compound eye circlet he had given her that day. She had had to ask her father what it was exactly, if it had any magical properties. Just a slight little enchantment, barely detectable. Even so, she treasured it. It was a thoughtful gift. "You should not be hopping here all the time. Don't you have a store to look after?"
Endahren chuckled. "Father really takes care of it most of the time. My time to be busy will come yet, but it's not just yet. Mostly I just help out when it gets busy or he has other business to take care of." Ellanore nodded slowly. She hadn't really thought before of how he lived his life, what he did with his days. But this kind of arrangement made sense. Nothing could have two leaders, really, there was only one sovereign.
"Well then, what are you doing here?"
"Just felt like seeing you. And to ask if you would like to come to out family's traditional Starlight Celebration dinner, on the 25th. Lots of good food and all!" Ellanore stared at him. This was certainly new. She generally didn't have too much to do with the Merchells, and they not with her family.
"...Come on now, you don't have to be so shocked. It's a very simple question." She couldn't quite identify the emotion in his voice. He was looking at her earnestly, but there was something she could not quite place.
"Well. I...I suppose. Since there's the engagement and all." The thought filled her with confusion, still. She had always known the time for the two of them to get to know each other better would come eventually, but she hadn't thought it would be any time soon. A family dinner, now?
"Great! Well, I'll be seeing you then, if not earlier! Mother has the specifics, you should work it out with her." Endahren smiled brilliantly, turned, and left without even a goodbye. Ellanore stared after him. That had been...sudden. Then she frowned. Knowing him, it could be a prank. She growled under her breath and started packing away her bow. Dishonorable lout. Then she stopped. He had mentioned to get in contact with his mother. It didn't really sound like it was just a prank. Suddenly, Ellanore felt like crying.
Ellanore bit her lip and looked at the sword in her hand. It just wouldn't cooperate with her. She was of half mind to claim the sword faulty and demand a new one. It was simply too long for her to handle comfortably. But then again, there was the possibility she simply wasn't good enough. But who ever heard of an elvaan who couldn't handle a sword in battle? She took a deep breath and concentrated. Drew a pose she thought she should know well by now, a standby pose, ready for opponents. Now, to hold it... Her teacher Mr Arandant had told her this was the best way to get in contact with her sword. If there was no contact, there was no flow. If there was no flow, she would be defeated in battle instantly.
"Hey, Ella. What on Vana'diel are you doing?" The puzzled voice broke her concentration, and she sagged, drained. She knew that voice well. It was a nuisance. And couldn't he see what she was doing?
"I am practicing my sword, naturally. Can you not see it? That I'm holding a sword?" She waved said item in front of the newcomers face. Endahren Merchell, her fiancé. He always had a habit of showing up at the worst times. They had been promised to each other since long before she could remember. She could not rememember seeing him around much when se had been but a mere child, but lately, he had been dropping by quite often. It was confusing, and more than a little embarrassing. She didn't really know how to treat him.
"Whoa, easy there! Didn't mean to offend or anything. You just looked a bit... err..." His voice faded out, probably a wise precaution. She didn't really feel like knowing what he thought she looked like. "Not that it has anything to do with me. Hold your sword whichever way you want to." Ellanore whirled around, not feeling like giving him the courtesy of being face to face with him anymore. He never understood, and always, always caught her at the worst moments. This world was not a fair place for Ellanore Delouvien. The good things and the interesting ones always seemed to happen to someone else.
"...you don't have to do this, you know." She stiffened. Now what was he going on about? "It's quite natural for you to want to learn something like swordfighting, but it's not for everyone. In this world, we all have paths we must follow. And sometimes, those paths don't coincide with what we would want ourselves. But you know..." He hesitated at that point. Ellanore was confused. What had happened to the arrogant teasing boy he usually was? She was so curious she turned halfway back to him, and even looked at him from the corner of her eye. "It'll be alright in the end. When you follow your own path, it will reward you plenty. Sometimes, all it takes is a little perspective."
She looked down at her sword, the tip now leaning on the ground. She didn't know what to feel or think about his words. "Whichever path you follow, you should know I wouldn't take it away from you. Here," Endahren said, showing her a package he had brought with him. She hadn't noticed it until now. "Came here to bring this to you, since you've been down lately and all." Ellanore, now even more confused, hesitantly took the package from him. It seemed to be something thin, for the package wasn't too thick, but it was bigger in other dimensions.
"I need to be heading back to take care of the store now. Take care." With that, Endahren made a little bow and walked away. Ellanore was left at the yard, even more confused, wondering what she was supposed to do now.
When she finally opened the package it turned out to be a beautiful circlet with turquoise decorations.
Nightingale giggled at the street performers. It was the day of the Harvest Festival. Technically, he was supposed to be with Master Peridaut, they would perform tonight and Master Peridaut was always adamant about preparations, seeing that every single little detail was in place. But he had opted to sneak out instead, to come out and play with his friends, see the amazing costumes people were wearing, just generally have fun.
It felt like it had been ages since the last festival. He loved these days, when people were cheery and out in the streets in crowds, laughing and shouting and just generally having a good time. He always got to wear nice clothes on festival days, too. In truth they were just for performing, but he thought that was such a waste. If Master Peridaut was going to pay him for a nice costume for the Harvest Festival, why should he only wear it during his performance? He wouldn't get it dirty or anything, he was always careful about things like that.
When the performance ended, Nightingale looked around. He hadn't found his friends yet, none of them had exactly been expecting for him to have any free time today. It would be a surprise, for sure. Looking around, his eyes met those of an elderly lady, sitting on a bench nearby. The woman smiled and gestured him over.
"You have such a nice costume, boy. I felt like giving you a cookie for it." She smiled and dug out a cookie from her basket. "Heading out to for trick-or-treating with your friends?"
Nightingale took the offered cookie and smiled brightly. "Thank you, ma'am. I'm actually out here for a little while only. I will be performing with my Master at the square in front of Neptune's Spire tonight, the clothes are more because of that."
"Ah, a performer, are you? What will you be doing?"
"I am a singer, ma'am." Nightingale turned to leave. He didn't have too much time to spend on stuff like this if he wanted to have time to be with his friends today. But he remembered well all Master Peridaut's teachings of always advertising yourself and your performance, for bigger crowds and more gil. He turned back and looked at the old woman. "Please give us your patronage tonight." He bowed slightly. "And thank you again for the cookie, ma'am."
The old woman chuckled at him. "My, you're a little charmer, aren't you. I'll definitely be there." Nightingale put on his best stage smile and thanked the woman. Then he left, waving to her as he went before disappearing into the crowd. That had taken up too much precious time, but he supposed it couldn't be helped.
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