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year 5, quarter 3
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On rewind, on repeat, incessant, all day Spinnin' it like you're a DJ, torture me on replay
It was simple enough endeavor really. All he had to do was ascertain if the crystals inside the castle were Lufenian crafted. It wouldn't do well for him to just twiddle his thumbs, and wait. No, no more waiting. There was a small hitch though. A trivial matter he found himself in that caused him to close his eyes and rub at his temples. The guard would not let him in the castle. Of course, Astos knew he could simply smite the man. Reign the dark magic infused into his blood to spill another's. Then what? Surely a whole host of other soldiers would come, and it would all be a big to do. And say they weren't Lufenian after all, although he doubted this, countless murders and perhaps regicide would not endear himself to the locals if he would need their aide. So, he simply smirked and posed the question. "And what would one need do to see their king? Or perhaps does he hide himself away as not to deal with those he finds inferior, and a king who finds his subjects inferior....well that would be a shame wouldn't it?"
Astos stopped cocking his head to the side as he looked at the solder by the door. A small crowd was beginning to form whether it was to oggle the strange looking man or the commotion he was causing, he couldn't be certain as they whispered in hushed tones. The guard began to stammer. "Th-there are public forums every so often, and of course great heroes are allowed their leave. I-I'd ask to see your papers if you're an actual citizen. You look like-""Like?" Astos said with a tremor in his voice that would betray sadness if he had actually felt any in the moment. "I do hope my visage isn't so terrible.""Like an outsider is all." the guard finished.
"Oh dear, I didn't know outsiders were so visually different than your citizenry, my deepest of apologies for having thought otherwise," he smirked as he gave a small bow of his head to the guard. "Then perhaps I shall find a hero or attend one of these galas. I bid you good day. May protecting the kingdom come with no more turbulence today." He lilted his voice walking off towards the general square. Heroes. The word soured on his tongue, turned into acid on his mind. What did they know of heroes. If he was right, their heroes would die over and over in vain sacrifice.
"Where would one find a hero?" he mused aloud but acting as if he were talking to himself. To be honest he should have done more research, but things weren't right. He was supposed to be dead. He wasn't. He had traveled the planes but could not recall this one. He could not feel the power of the Ultima Weapon burried in his breast anymore. All the other anguish and torment and power, yes. He must have only been here a day or so, but he followed the pull of magic to the University, where he had learned quickly of the crystals that powered the city. Impulse was not something he was used to and it showed why it was impractical in this moment especially.
"Well there's the Wyvern's Rest, the Dragonblades place, or you could go the Grand Hall and learn about our past heroes." A young woman approached as he stood staring at the large golden statue. "I...I saw you talking with guard. Outsiders get a bad rap still especially when they look.....different. Most still find them untrustworthy since they do seem to wreck our city every couple of months. But they also saved us from the Kraken a bit ago too, so I say have good faith in them, myself." She ruffled at her skirts as Astos' eyes grew wide. "The Kraken?" he asked astonished and she nodded.
"The hall would have records on all that kind of thing, but if you want to hire someone the Blades would do nicely." She added. Astos quickly followed her directions towards the hall. The Kraken? How very cliche, and how very obvious, he thought to himself. At a brisk pace, he made it the hall in quick time making his way quickly in even amidst the copious amount of stares. "Now then," employing the same sort of method he used in the square half talkin aloud and half to himself "If I wanted to learn about any prophecies or legends of this city, where would I start?"
[attr=class,bulk] Celes was not having the best day.
It started well enough. Just an average morning, a little colder than usual and heavy with morning dew. The Wyvern’s Rest was quiet when she’d opened up shop, and she had time to think. She wanted to put in some flowers before she left for Provo later that week. But what? And would she really have time? She was surveying the yard, planning out the spacing for the lilacs, when she was interrupted by a chime at the door.
It was, to her surprise, a royal emissary for King Hremit. And he was not particularly interested in explaining why he’d come.
”There’s no emergency, ma’am. I just need a representative of the Dragonblades to sign off on official business.”
”That would be me. But what do you need-?”
”It’s really a matter that should be done in person. Do you have any preference in time?”
”Now is fine, but where are we-?”
Celes wasn’t given a chance to ask her question. Apparently it was confidential. She really hated working with the government.
Along the way, she told the man her name, position, and exactly why she was qualified to speak for the Dragonblades as a whole. Unsurprisingly, he’d never heard of her. She couldn’t have cared less, really, except that he kept asking about Caius. Where was he now? When would he be back? Should he come and ask him instead? Celes assured with increasing impatience that she’d do just fine. The threat in her voice must have gotten through to him because he stopped asking.
He led her to the Grand Hall of all places, and Celes felt a growing dread as she started up the polished stone steps to the entryway. There were banners hung about advertising the newest archaeological exhibits displaying Torensten’s glorious history, and she hoped beyond all hope that this wasn’t going where she thought it was.
She held onto that hope until they entered the hall of heroes and he led her past the other shining golden statues to the back room and Celes got a good look at the tiny model figure of a statue in progress and she pressed her hand to her mouth to smother whatever expletive was trying to escape it.
’Oh for fuck’s sake…’
”We have a few different designs,” the emissary said as he gestured between the models. ”Here we have Caius in his classic dragonscale armor wielding his main gunblade, and in this one he’s double-wielding with his shortblade. Our artists were torn on how to depict his dragon. We have a full model here, whereas this rendition has the dragon more as a creative motif. What do you think?”
Celes stared at the models in rising horror. ”Do you…really want to know what I think?”
The man looked at her expectantly, clipboard raised. Celes bit her lip.
’Be nice.’
”I don’t think…that Caius would really care between them.” Nor did she think that he would ever want something like this, but she kept that to herself. ”Is this really necessary? It all seems like…a lot.”
“The king has ordered it personally. He wants to honor the slayers of the Kraken.”
”And he can’t be…dissuaded?”
He could not. The king’s orders were absolute, apparently. So Celes had no choice but to spend the next four hours approving this design but not that design, giving her opinion on every last detail, and reading page after page of slightly different text for the plaque. She told him what she knew of Caius’ life, about the formation of the Dragonblades (where her name was mentioned exactly once), and about Vordun and the Kingsglaive and everything else she could think of. By the time the man was nearly satisfied, it was mid afternoon, Celes was exhausted, and it was all she could do to insist that yes, she really did have other things to do today, and so if she could please be on her way, they could follow up with Caius later.
The man was still hounding her as she escaped into the entry hall.
”I forgot to ask, what are the names of Caius’ swords?”
”Itamen and Isp. If you’ll excuse me…”
”And he started the Dragonblades how long ago?”
”We started it one and a half years ago. If you have any other questions, you can ask him yourself.”
The loathsome man took a few more assurances before finally he thanked her and went back to the statue room and she was left alone in the entrance hall, and she finally let out a long, beleaguered sigh. As well as a few of the curses that had pent up over the last several hours. She rubbed at the beginnings of a headache in her right temple.
If ever she’d needed a confirmation that leaving the city would be best for her, she’d gotten it today. She couldn’t wait to hit the road and start a new life in Provo for a while. Then maybe she could get out from under Caius’ shadow.
She was so frustrated that it took her a moment to realize that something was amiss, but she had a certain sense for suspicious behavior and a stronger one for when she was being watched. So Celes looked up and saw what she thought at first to be a monster, but no sooner had she tensed for her sword when she realized that it was, in fact, a man. He stood uncertainly by a rack of brochures, rake thin and clad in black robes and almost unthinkably tall. He wasn’t human, that much was made clear even before she noticed his pointed ears and lavender hair. But what was he…?
Celes caught herself staring.
She wasn’t afraid of him, and he hadn’t given her any reason to think that he was up to something troublesome. This was a public museum, after all, and there wasn’t much to do but learn. But she couldn’t help but wonder…
She had to ask him a question.
Celes steeled herself and started towards him, perhaps against her better judgment. It wasn’t likely that her instincts were correct – it might have even been offensive – but if she was right then maybe…
Celes approached him with an uncertain smile. ”I’m sorry to bother you,” she said. ”But you wouldn’t happen to be an esper, would you?”
It wasn’t likely. She knew that. But she couldn’t shake the feeling.
On rewind, on repeat, incessant, all day Spinnin' it like you're a DJ, torture me on replay
Astos waited. It seemed plenty of the other denizens of the hall were giving him a wider berth and more. It wasn't anything he terribly offended by. The feeble hearts of men let terror burrow there at the idea of anything unknown. One small break from the illusory ideals of routine and perfection was more than enough to allow the darkness in, chaos to manifest, and of course that couldn't be allowed. So, even subconsciously they stayed away leaving him to pour over the sad information rack of pamphlets. Astos picked one up between his nails flipping through it. "Voyage de Torensten" Ah so the people of this land have learned technology, he thought to himself putting the brochure offering a free sky train ride back down. His eye caught one on a University for Magic and his lips curled into a smirk. My. My. He would definitly need to see what magics they could teach him for sure.
He was beginning to think of just wandering about the place, taking in more information than the welcome table would off. Who would stop him if he wanted to go any restricted sections, he wondered. It wasn't as if anyone was giving him the time of day. Slipping about in the shadows wasn't that hard when you'd lived in them for so long. Still someone approached. He watched her out of the corner of his eye not turning to face her. He wanted to roll his eyes. Surely his persona wasn't enough to paralyze anyone with fear, at least not unless he wanted them to. He was about to ask her if she needed him to move, if he was in her way somehow even though there were plenty of racks to chose from, when she spoke
Astos' lips curled into a smile at the question. "An esper?" he repeated, his hands floating slightly out as if they also spoke for him. "I'm sorry to say, I can't count myself among the ranks of these. I do sorely hope this is not much of a disappointment." He tilted his head at the blonde woman thinking to take the chance while it presented itself. "Thusly, you must be wondering what I am since we've broached what I am not. I am an elf." He let his eyes very obviously flash to her sword before back to her face. "A dark elf to be exact. Although I do hope that the term 'dark' doesn't lead you to any wily acts of light-washed heroism." He winked at his little play on words. "As for who I am, well, I am Astos. A pleasure." He gave her a slight bow before standing erect again. He felt that enough of an introduction until he knew more about her. Tit for tat and all that.
"If I may take my turn at this guessing game, may I assume you're a hero of some sort?" He pointed straight to her sword. "Aside from the guards, you are the only one so openly armed in this hall of knowledge." He looked around at the throng of civilians milling about staring up at statues and paintings, splitting off into the various halls and exhibits. "Of course, believing everyone to be so simple is wholly naïve." He shrugged turning his attention back to the one who would draw close to him. "Although a hero is exactly what I'm looking for at the moment, if you are one and have the time that is. I would so hate to be a nuisance." He drew a finger down his scarred cheek letting his finger rest on his chin as he tilted his head watching her as if he was analyzing her.
[attr=class,bulk] Celes quickly realized that she’d made a terrible mistake.
The man looked amused by her question if only in the most bitter of ways. He wasn’t an esper. He made that extremely clear, and then went on, telling her that he was an elf, if she had to know, and while she had no idea what that was, from the way that he emphasized that he was a “dark elf” specifically, it seemed like she’d offended him. Celes blinked at him. ”Oh no, that's not…”
Not what she'd approached him to ask. She'd wanted to know if he was an esper specifically, but he seemed to think she'd bothered him only because he wasn't human. With his strange appearance, that must have been common for idiots like her. Was he used to being chased around for it? It seemed so, if he’d thought to preface all of it with a warning about her “light-washed heroism.”
He gave her his name with a bow. How very formal of him.
”Celes Chere,” she returned with a wary nod. She still had no idea what was happening or why. All she knew was that she’d made a mistake, and she had the feeling that he was making her pay for it.
”If I may take my turn at this guessing game,” he went on. ”May I assume you’re a hero of some sort?” He pointed out her sword and then, before she could object, told her that he was actually in need of a hero, and she was left entirely uncertain of what to say.
On the one hand, she didn’t like the way that he was looking at her. Something about his movements, his voice, his words, all of it warned of ill-intent. On the other hand, that might have just been her own bias talking, and hadn’t she been the one to approach him? She remembered how the espers were feared. Their power, their history, and their monstrous appearances were enough to set the world against them until every last one of them was killed for the needs of weak men. Could this man, Astos, have faced the same?
She didn’t know. But it was enough of a reason to ignore her instincts and do what she could to help. For now.
’May I assume you’re a hero of some sort?’
Celes let out a long sigh. ”You know, I’ve always hated that word,” she said. ”This whole place is so…well, up its own ass, to be honest.” She gave a short laugh. ”Do these men deserve to be remembered? Maybe. But all this? It’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
She was avoiding the question, wasn’t she?
”If you need a job done, I can help you. Maybe I would have been busy today, but…” She gestured at the hall of heroes behind her. ”Well. Let’s say the king had other plans. So it’s not a bother, really.” She tried for a smile. ”What do you need?”
On rewind, on repeat, incessant, all day Spinnin' it like you're a DJ, torture me on replay
Astos cocked his head to the side as Celes began to speak. He smirked at her language, the tendrils of his friend tickled at him encased in the vulgarity. "Oh, I think such an ostentatious display is deserved, but I understand. You heroes," he continued continuing to use the word despite her disdain for it, "always so busy with your grand quests and endeavors. Pomp and circumstance only stands to hinder your progress, I assume."
Astos' lipped pursed at her comment. "Oh?" he asked not waiting for a response before turning his gaze to the statues and paintings. "Whether or not heroes need be remembered," his voice was straight soft and without a rise in pitch but a touch of acrid disdain doused the words, "if not remembered then to whom would you have people place their hopes? To say in themselves is a moral option, to make oneself into the hero that needs be has been done, but without these stories without the history, without the memory of them then from where would that spark spring forth? All in all even if you disagree, I ask, it's a terrible thing to be forgotten, is it not?" He crossed his arms staring up at the bust of a woman who had helped with a great flood centuries ago.
"It occurs to me that my need might be too banal for you," he said after a long pause of him reading the busts' description allowing the woman time. "For you see, this place 'up it's own.... well," he gestured with a vague wave to remind her her of her own description, "Is the place where I would need assistance. You see, I had thought to ask the king some simple questions. The guard very plainly told me I was not welcome, much like the mages at the University, so here I am looking for information." He sighed shaking his head before lying his cheek upon a loose fist.
"I would ask for help on finding any legends or prophecies of this land or even more information on the Kraken I heard about, but you've already expressed your distaste, perhaps you can find someone to help. I wouldn't want to be an inconvenience for you, with your 'would be' business to attend to." Astos rapped his nails against his forearm as he stood there. What was her burn, her desire, he wondered. What was it that compelled her? Maybe he'd found out, maybe he wouldn't. He turned to look up at a painting depicting a fierce battle of eld.
[attr=class,bulk] Celes had no idea what she’d done wrong.
She didn’t know, but she knew that she’d offended this man somehow. He made that fairly obvious in his response. He tilted his head at her, smirking, as he insisted on calling her a hero. His lips tightened and he went on about remembering the people here as though he had some kind of personal connection. It struck Celes then that maybe he did. Or maybe…
No, it was stupid to speculate. It was just as likely that the man was just being rude for the sake of it.
But he wasn’t being rude in a way that she could easily pinpoint and shove back in his face. It was all very frustrating.
”I think they should be able to live for themselves, honestly,” she said even though she had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t looking for an answer from her. He was going off like a philosopher, and Celes had no idea why. ”Glorifying people leads to glorifying a country and then you can get everyone to do whatever you want.”
Like die in a war, for instance. Or subjugate a neighboring kingdom for the sake of progress.
This was not something she’d wanted to talk about today.
Thankfully, the strange shadow of a man actually told him what he wanted after that. Unfortunately, it left her with more questions than answers.
”What did you want to ask the king?”
That was certainly strange. What would a king know specifically, and why did this man think he could just walk right in and ask him? On a normal day, Celes might have been happy to help someone lost and in search of certain answers, but this man was acting so condescending in a way that made her want to be as difficult as possible in return.
Patience. There was no need to be rude. She just had to grit her teeth, last a little longer, and then she could go home.
”Well, I don’t know anything about legends or stories. I’m not from here. I’m from, well, another world, I guess.” Even after years of this nonsense, it still felt strange to say it out loud. She hoped that she was never thrust back into the ruined place she came from, but if she was then who would ever believe her?
”But the Kraken attacked about six months ago. The whole city was almost swept up in a hurricane. I stayed behind to help with the evacuation while my friend went out to slay it. Which is why they want a statue made of him, I suppose.” Her lips soured. ”The ship they were on was torn in two. Almost everyone on board died, but they managed to kill the beast before it could finish the job. The survivors boarded a lifeboat, and that was that.”
She’d been worried sick about him, to be honest, and the king had kept him late in order to shower him in gratitude and honor. He’d come back somewhere around two in the morning, drenched to the bone, shaking with hollowed eyes. That was the part that couldn’t be carved into a statue. There was a steep price to be paid by so-called heroes.
”There are people who work here if you want to know more about history. I couldn’t tell you myself.”
On rewind, on repeat, incessant, all day Spinnin' it like you're a DJ, torture me on replay
Astos' amusement was slowing waning with the woman. "Giving the people their own autonomy, how noble," he dismissed her remark about people living for themselves as he strode to the next bust, a severe looking man whose description read of his heroic victory against a dark force in a forest of ghost like entities. Perhaps that's why the visage look so haunted? He was almost ready to take her up on her offer of finding someone else to assist him, not even bothering to answer her question about what he wanted with the king, when something she said struck him .
"Another world you say?" He eyes lit with a renewed interest, and he gave a soft hmpf as he reassessed her. "How very curious, so that must be what the woman meant by an outsider." So it wasn't just from outside the city, nay entire worlds. Had the rift been frayed? Were the Lufenians aware of this strange place that he had not seen when shown all the dimensions? No. He wouldn't get ahead of himself. There were too many simple questions that needed answers before went on a search for more intense pursuits. "Needless to say, I find myself cast in the same role of outsider... if you get my meaning." No need to outright say the obvious for if she didn't understand then she was really of no use to him.
So the Kraken had attacked. "Oh dear," he said although his tone didn't quite match his words. He sounded a but too enthused to hear about the deaths and subsequent defeat of the Kraken. "Your friend sounds like a true warrior of light and all that. If he's anything like you this whole statue ordeal must be more... bothersome than reward. " Astos flashed a grin before asking. "There haven't been other," he twirled his hand as if finding the word that already sat on his tongue, "fiends or other such calamities to have befallen recently have there?"
"As for the king, well," he gave a half shrug as though this shouldn't have been any ordeal at all, "I wanted to ask about the crystals that power this land. You see, back in *my* world, we had crystals as well. I was wanting to see the similarities and differences that's all know what the ruler of those crystals knew about them. Simple questions to satiate my own curiosity. It's only been a day or so since I've found myself here, and my mind reels with questions and theories."
Astos tilted his head an pouted a little. "I'd would have assumed you were as fresh as I for not knowing of this place, but I guess others can accept the mysteries of such things without immediately looking for answers. In that way you remind me of a... of someone I know" Astos smiled but his eyes weren't in it. It was a cold smile. One that tugged at his heart. Her off putting stand off behavior reminded him of well... "Of your friend, what's his name? I'd be very interested in meeting the slayer of the Kraken if it wouldn't be too much of a hassle, perhaps something more in your range than helping me here. And I'm all ears to hear of you endeavor to evacuate, of course" He extended his hand as if he were trying to help her out instead before turning to a painting. Could this friend of hers be a stranger? One with the strength to fell a fiend was too interesting a lead to merely pass up.
[attr=class,bulk] The man before her was…well, strange felt like an understatement. The slight sense of unease she’d felt at the sight of him had ratcheted up to full on suspicion as his eyes bore into her, alight with interest as soon as he heard that she was from another world. Of course, he went on to explain that he was the same, but there was something about it that just felt…
Wrong.
”Needless to say, I find myself cast in the same role of outsider if you get my meaning.”
”I don’t see how I couldn’t.” Celes tried to keep up her smile. She really did, but she was tired of these useless riddles. How many people had she told of their strange situation? How many people had been lost and worried and been in need of an explanation? How many times had she had this exact conversation, and yet, this man was different somehow. It struck her then that his interest in her origins didn’t match his confusion.
He hadn’t asked her any questions about it at all.
Instead, he went on to ponder over Caius and the Kraken. He had a lot to say about it, really, and then he finally told her what he wanted with the king. He seemed to be in much higher spirits now, chatting her up whether she wanted it or not. She half listened to him. The other half of her was too busy trying to piece together what it all meant beneath the surface.
He felt dangerous. He felt wrong in a way that Celes couldn’t put her finger on. Was she just being distrustful? Was she too traumatized to tell reality from her own paranoia anymore?
She didn’t know. She’d have to warn Caius about this.
”He definitely won’t be happy about the statue,” she said once she had the chance to speak. ”As for fiends…Well, there was the Lich before this. It took out an entire city before it was stopped. Caius was there too if you wanted to hear more.” She paused. When she said it like that, it was really no wonder why he was the one getting the statue.
Not that she would ever want one for herself of course.
”Then there was Chaos. It flattened about a third of Torensten before it was stopped. I helped with disaster relief.” And that was not a memory she liked revisiting. The flames, the ash, cries of despair. It all felt far too much like home.
”I don’t know anything about the crystals in the city though I can tell you they’re not the ones that matter. Wherever there’s a crystal, that’s where the fiends appear. They’ve corrupted a few of them now. We’ve had to purify them before their influence could spread.” Some part of her felt like she shouldn’t be telling the suspicious stranger about such artifacts of power. A greater part told her that he should not under any circumstances be brought to see the king. But this much was fairly common knowledge. He’d hear about the crystals eventually if he kept asking about it all.
She didn’t miss that the stranger had called her stupid and incurious either. ’I guess others can accept the mysteries of such things without immediately looking for answers.’ She felt her gaze turn scathing. Did he really think that she wouldn’t notice if he used big enough words? Or did he just not care that he’d insulted her?
”Of your friends, what’s his name?”
”Caius,” Celes answered curtly. Whatever patience she’d once had was waning. ”I wouldn’t mind introducing you. But why do you care so much about crystals and fiends? Or heroes for that matter?” She watched him carefully, gauging his reaction. ”It’s a little strange, isn’t it?”
On rewind, on repeat, incessant, all day Spinnin' it like you're a DJ, torture me on replay
Astos' was all ears for Celes as she began to explain the working of this world. He hmmed and nodded as she explained as he suspected that this Caius was just as uninterested in culture as she. Still he drank deeply of the stories she told. The Kraken, The Lich and now even Chaos? His eyes grew wide with wonder as he stroked his chin lost in his thoughts for a moment not listening to her antics about the crystals in town not being powerful. True the fiends *would* be attracted to more powerful ones but a crystal is a crystal. Still if those three forces were in this world as well could that mean....no no. He calmed himself with a sobering sigh. Best not to get his hopes up again.
"This, Caius," he rolled the name on his tongue letting rough first syllable linger before the softer second in his speech, "He wasn't around to attend to Chaos?" He gave Celes a smile as if to say, so your hero isn't everywhere defending everything all the time, but his words stayed smooth and even. "I appreciate and am grateful for this tidbit of knowledge, but still a crystal is a crystal after all even the trivial ones have power. Whose to say they don't hold something that a fiend would eventually want?" Like memories perhaps? He thought this thought thinking of the dark crystals
"My, my," he said raising his hands in defense as Celes launched into an interrogation. "I didn't realize I was on trial for wanting answers to questions. Alas, suspicion is quick to be granted to those of us who seem *other* seem....monstrous? Is that what you see when you look upon my visage?" He smiled refusing to back down from Celes' glare. "I can't blame you though of course. Its just the nature of things isn't it?" He lowered his hands with a shrug turning and deciding to read another pamphlet on the Torensten's festivals.
"I wasn't always this way you know," he said as a start to answering his question. "I used to be a normal elf that was before the darkness began to take hold. You see in my world, Chaos is known but it's not an entity, just something we entitle the darkness that encroaches on the edges of pleasantry. A fairy tale to keep kids in line." He omitted the part where even the king and prophecies told of Chaos. What use was it to her to know that? He already felt the words going into her ear and out the other but he continued on. Deciding to spin a yarn and see if she bit he peppered truth and fiction together "Eerily enough, our crystals also began to decay, and I tried my hand at playing hero, but instead of purifying the crystal I was tainted into what I am now. A dark elf." He ran his fingers down the deep scars on his cheek for emphasis giving Celes a pitying look.
"However, some people were able to stay the tide of darkness. Our heroes. I became an advisor to them wanting to not be fully corrupted myself. I thought if I could help these warriors of light, I wouldn't fall fully into the corruption that had taken me." Astos walked to the next painting not caring if she followed along or not. He knew heroes. He was different enough to be seen as a threat. She would follow. "Then the fiends came to protect the crystals when those same heroes came to purify them." He dropped his gaze looking at the floor taking a deep breath as if to stabilize himself for his theatrics. "I lost so many friends, and I can never atone for leading so many to their deaths, but some succeeded. We had hope for some time. But the crystals.....they continued to deterioate even with the fiends slain. I was working with some warriors on the cause of this when I awoke to this world. Can you blame me for wanting to see if they were here? To see if these crystals were connected in some way? To see if this anomaly was caused by them or not?" He took a fist and slammed it against the wall hoping he had sold his half lies well enough, biting his tongue to force the tears to his eye.
"It's a solitary life I lead, Celes, my friends march to uncertain ends at all times to protect the land," Astos ended his explanation looking at the ground. "Call it, and me, strange if you wish, but if you won't help, it won't stop me from seeking the answers I need." It was taking all he had not to crack a grin. It was kind of fun to spin a yarn. He would have never let Astos get this far into a story.
Celes watched as he went on like an actor on stage, performing his lines with too much passion for it to be real. Celes didn’t have much experience with plays. Really, she only had the opera, but that was still what immediately came to mind. He was an actor, and she was his captive audience, following along as he paced the hall until he came to a stop and his fist against a wall, holding back tears.
Celes watched him. She would definitely need Caius for this.
”I don’t care how you look,” she said. ”It’s because you keep talking in riddles.” Kefka hadn’t spoken in riddles. He’d spoken in jokes that only he understood that were painted in blood and cured in fire. Astos didn’t give her that vibe, but there was still something off here. Something she didn’t trust.
’Or you’re being paranoid towards a poor traumatized man with a skin condition,’ she reminded herself. She sighed.
”Sorry, it’s just…been a long day.” She rubbed her eyes and then looked back at him. ”I think you should talk to Caius. He has connections. If you really want to see the palace crystals, he’ll be the one who can get you in.”
Assuming Caius trusted him more than Celes did. She really hoped he didn’t.
”I’ll take you to the Wyvern’s Rest. That’s the Dragonblades’ headquarters. I don’t know if Caius is in now or not, but you can wait there until he is. We have spare beds and tea and…snacks.”
What was she talking about?
”It’s a better place to wait around than here anyway. With your…condition someone might try to start trouble if you keep wandering around asking about the king and the crystals.” Someone with less patience than her. Someone with perhaps a little more sense.
