Resumption and Conclusion Chapter 10

By Foeciusfoe

DEATH CORPS MED. FACILITIES

Rafa has been asleep for several hours. She came in suffering from dehydration and exhaustion, combined with the broken leg she had received. Mustadio has not left her bedside since she came in. He had longed to see her face again since they had gone their separate ways.

Once Ramza had disappeared, the original troupe began to separate. Beowulf and reis had gone off to live out their lives as farmers. Lavian and Rad, had also gone off to be wed. Agrias, Meliadoul, And Orlandu had gone their separate ways. As for mustadio well he....

“Ughhh..” Rafa groaned as she began to awake. Mustadio Leaned in intently, grabbing her hand. He stared down to her. She’s as beautiful as the day he had first layed eyes on her.

Rafa’s eyes opened just a bit, as she grasped consciousness. “M..mustadio?”she gently whispered.

Mustadio smiled as a single tear rolled from his eye. “Hey Rafa.” he whisperred back.

Farland watched from the corner as his master became reacquainted with the girl. He smiled to himself as he watched. Mustadio had often spoke of her. Of how they had met, and how he had felt about her. His arms folded across his chest, and a broad smile across his face, Farland stepped out of the med room. “Better to give them their time alone to talk.” he thought.

As he stepped out, and peered down the hall, Farland saw a great commotion. His face became serious. He Ran down the hallway towards the movement. Grabbing a squier as he ran by, Farland spoke. “You there,” he said, “What’s going on?”

“There are three imperial guardsmen outside!” he yelled. “Master’s Salman and Liam are already out there, as is lady Clarice.”

“What!!?!” Farland dashed to the entrance of the Head quarters. It seemed the whole death corps was already out here. He quickly pushed the others ou of the way maneuvering to the front.

Indeed there were three imperial guards at front. Each atop a black chocobo, completely armored, and prepared for battle. The Leader wore a heavy Iron mask, bearing neither skin nor hair. However judging by the pendant on his shoulder, he was from Donavan’s knights of the blue Flame.

He spoke up to the crowd. “Where is Salman Marter, the leader of the Death Corps.”

The crowd was silent. Liam stepped forward and looked the man straight in the face. “I am Salman Marter. What is it you wish of the Death Corps?”

Farland shifted his eyes a bit. He had never figured Salman would be the kind to use such trickery. Not that he could blame him for it. If something were to happen to Salman, the morale of the Death Corps would surely plummet, and the revolution would be finished.

“....You are not Salman Marter.” the leader spoke. Liam was caught off guard. How the hell did this man know what Salman looked like. “I never figured that the leader of the Death Corps was a coward.” The leader again spoke.

“Stand down, Liam.” a voice shouted from the crowd. The Crowd separated, providing a path, as Salman slowly walked towards the soldiers. Flanked by Clarice on his left, the “First couple” of the Death Corps marched forward. Liam stepped aside and took his position at Salman's right.

“I am Salman Marter.” he spoke. “What business does the imperial army have with us.”

The leader took off his helmet. His ebony skin, glistening off the sun. “My Name Is Gent, I am the son of Donavan Benson, and Captain of the Knights of the Blue flame. I come to speak with you, Sir Salman.”

“Like Hell you will!” Clarice shouted. “This is all an attempt to assasinate my lord!”

Salman raised a finger to Clarice’s lips. “Shh.” he said softly. “Let me here the man speak.” Clarice smiled a girlish smile. Farland chuckled a bit from behind her. As strong as she appeared to everyone else, when she and Salman got like this she turns into a 13 year old.

Hearing his snicker, Clarice turned and slammed her iron gauntlet into Farland’s un-protected shoulder. Farland bit his upper lip, and attempted a smile. Who was he kidding, everyone there knew that hurt like hell.

Gent became annoyed. “Children have no place in battle.” he quiped. Farland and Clarice, Charged HIm, but were cut short by Salman’s arm. Gent remained motionless. Indeed he had gained his father’s confidence.

“I know that you didnt come here to insult my men.” Salman began, “So why dont you just deliver your message and be on your way.

Gent relaxed a bit. “I have come not as a messenger of the Hyral lineage, but as a man who believes in freedom.”

Salman’s face grew intense. It became apparent that, though he did not trust this man, he believed him to be speaking the truth. “As a believer in Freedom I also find that I have chosen the wrong side. Delita wishes solely to feed his thirst for power, however it is at the expense of the common man, an Ideal I cannot stand behind.”

Salman arched an eyebrow. “Are you saying that you want to join us?”

“By all means no.” Gent quiped. “My loyalty lies with my father.” Salman grew agitated. “So if you are solely loyal to your father, than why did you come to us?”

“The man currently using the name Donavan Benson, is not my father. My father was a proud man who would never perpetrate such misdeeds. Delita has somehow warped his mind, and the minds of his comrades.”

Liam spoke up “So your proposing...”

“I am proposing” gent interrupted, “that I supply you with information that may save your pitiful Revolution.”

“What sort of Information.” Salman asked.

“A man will be coming into the wharfs south of Mandalia a week from now. His arrival is shrouded in secrecy, but apparently it’s important. Delita dispatched my father and I to personally oversee that he arrives without you knowing.”

“Who exactly is arriving?” Salman asked brimming with curiosity.

Gent Stiffened up on his mount. “The man arriving is Ramza Beoulve.”

The crowd stood aghast. If they recruited Ramza Beoulve, Delita wouldnt stand a chance. But the mood of the cowd was still one of untrust.

Salman gazed across the crowd. Realizing it better that the others not be present during this conversation he spoke. "Parrel." he shouted

Parrel quickly rushed to Salmans call. "Yes, sir." he stated. "Take this man's mount, and see to it that his friends are treated with respect." salman said. "It appears that Gent and I have something to talk about, after all."

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