Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Javarr: The Azure Scourge of Bastok ❯ Chapter 2: Discovering Hidden Talents ( Chapter 2 )

Let it be known that this story is based upon the MMORPG known as Final Fantasy XI, which is a copyright and Trademark of Square-enix incorporated. The author clams no ownership of names of places, characters, abilities, jobs, organizations, religions, or any other material that is protected under international copyright laws.

 

/em sighs and lights a Roll of Bastokan Tobacco +1

 

Now with that out of the way, lawyers happy, and the risk of getting sued by a multi-million dollar company avoided, on with the story.

 

 

Chapter 2: Discovering Hidden Talents

 

The next year and a half passed without many events. During that time, I was able to join the Reserve Legion of the Bastokan army. This group wasn't part of the army per-say, but mainly were citizens that acted as extra solders just in case the city needed more defenders. Well, there is one day that really sticks out in my mind . . .

 

* * * * *

 

The day had started just like any other had. Lightsday and Darksday were both normal drill days for my unit of the Bastokan Reserve. It was Darksday and I had really overdone it in training. I came home, my harness and other armor pieces feeling like they had doubled in weight during the day. My mother, Aliendrial, was waiting there for me as normal. My mother too was a member of the Reserves. She wasn't a warrior, but the other most important person on a formation; she was a White Mage. Her knowledge of the healing arts was very impressive. She even tried to teach me some of the simpler spells, but using them made me more fatigued then the wound I was trying to heal.

 

Anyway, when I got home, she was sitting in the main living room of our home, sipping a cup of tea. She looked up towards the door at me and smiled.

 

“Welcome home, Javarr”

 

“Thanks, mom.” I replied as I unfastened the cloak that we wore and hung it on one of the several pegs on the wall. I noted that once again, father's cloak wasn't there. “Father still out? I thought he was going to be back home yesterday?”

 

Mother nodded her head and sighed. “He contacted me through the linkpearl earlier. He said that there is a high chance that he will not be back for awhile. They found some information about the group of Orcs your father is helping the San d'Orian Knights track down.”

 

I might want to mention that in the past, San d'Oria and Bastok were bitter enemies. Several wars have been fought between these two nations. At one point in the last war, the forces of Bastok had finally gained the respect of San d'Oria by pushing their forces back to where they had to defend their castle in the Ronfaure. This mission that my father was on was one of several attempts to try and put an end to the rocky relationship between the two nations.

 

Sighing, I got a glass of water, went into the main room and sat down across from mom.

 

“He's been gone for awhile now, nearly eight weeks. What could be keeping those bucket-headed knights on the run so much! I know father would have had them already hunted down and dead by now.”

 

Mother chuckled. “You have the same temperament as your father at times.”

 

It was my turn to laugh at that one. “Gee, thanks . . . I think.” I took a long drink off of my water and just watched mother. She seemed so sad and almost depressed. I knew that she must have missed father as much as I did, maybe even more . . . “I'm going to head up to my room and lay down for a bit. Today's drills really took it out of me.” Mother nodded her approval and I went on up to my room and pretty much fell asleep as soon as I got there.

 

* * * * *

 

All that I knew was that it was late when I felt someone trying to shake me awake. My eyes slowly opened and the first image I saw was my mother's face hovering over the bed.

 

“Javarr, wake up. The main gate is under attack! The Mythrils have called for the reserves.”

 

The “Mythrils” are what the Reserves call the Mythril Musketeers, the highest part of the Bastokan Legion. There are only four members within the unit at anytime. Volker, the commander of the unit was also the overseer of the Reserve units and the enlisted Legionnaires. When he made a call to arms, the situation had to be bad. Still half asleep, my training took over. I was up and out of my bed and downstairs, grabbing my cloak from the peg and out the door in less then a minute.

 

When I emerged from the corridors that made up the Bastok residential area, the first things that hit me were the smell of smoke and blood, followed by the sounds of shouts and steel. I had spent much of my time on the training grounds, sparring against other Reserve members and sometimes the lower Legionnaires, but all of that was nothing compared to getting ready to enter a real battle.

 

“Come on, Javarr…” I told myself. “Time to prove that you learned something after all this time.' With that, I drew my sword and began running towards the Markets District.

 

Coming around the corner of that stone wall alongside the ramp leading to the main square, all I saw was fighting. Mother wasn't joking about the main gate being under attack. To be more accurate, the main gate had been breached. Everywhere I saw the familiar blue and white cloaks of the forces of Bastok. Their opponents were the race of Beastmen known only as the Quaduvs.

 

To give you a mental image of these things, think of this. A turtle that stands on two legs, stood about six and a half foot tall and can wield pretty much any weapon ever conceived. Some are even fluent in the art of magic, both black and white. Their shells were as dark as darksteel and almost as hard to pierce.

 

I stopped for a moment to take in the battlefield. I could count at least fifty within the main square itself and a good thirty more heading that way from the breached gate. The first and second lines of defense had been breached and the third was getting hammered. If they breached that line, the only thing that would stand between them and the non-combatants would be the mage line. Running all of this through my mind, I took off to join up with the third line. I ran along its back edge, trying to find a point that needed to be strengthened. Finding that point, I just plunged in, caring little for my own safety. All I knew is that the city was under attack and it had to be stopped.

 

I don't know if you had ever been in a large-scale battle, but I know that night, a minute seemed like an hour. I am not really sure how long I was fighting when the call went up that would fill any line with dread… the line had been breached on our right flank. After cutting down another quaduv, I looked to my right and saw them streaming through the breach, heading for the mage line. I made one quick check that my part of the line was secure then bolted off towards the breach point. I knew mother was in there somewhere and I had to defend that line. Running against already tired limbs, I moved as quickly as I could. The first wave of quaduvs hit the front of the line like a battering ram. Almost all at once the back line broke, their spells stopped in mid casting and the rain of healing that kept the third line intact was now gone. I urged my legs for more speed, filling my lungs to the bursting point and cutting loose a shout that actually jerked the heads around of a few of the quaduvs to stare right at me and the other troops that had followed my charge.

 

Rushing right into the middle of the small troop, my sword was constantly flashing from one side to the other, cutting off hands, gashing open red trails along any part of their body that came close. The next thing I remember was a sharp pain in the middle of my back as one of the attackers struck me with a club in the back, knocking me forward and sprawling across the ground. Apparently one of the troops behind me cut my assailant down because a follow through blow never landed. As I started to get up, I was looking around and froze. To me time slowed down for what seemed like an eternity. I saw my mother about twenty yards away and a quaduv with a great sword upon her. She had her staff out in hand, trying to fend off the sword, but with one over-head attack, the staff splintered under the greater weight and force of the sword. I remember her stumbling backwards and her gaze shifting to me… then… her eyes went wide as five feet of steel buried itself into her chest. Her body went limp, her eyes lifeless. The quaduv raised his sword, my mother still impaled upon it as if showing off a trophy. Then with a heavy swing, threw her body to the side and against a wall, leaving a red smear down the wall as she fell.

 

I felt hot, not from the heat of the battle, but the fire that ignited within my soul. I found the extra strength to push myself up and rushed the cursed creature. Others of its kind tried to get in my way, but all they met was a quick and painful end as my blade struck out, carving chests and slashing throats. By the time I was within a few feet of the damned creature, I was covered in the blood of his kind, nearly in a blind rage. The thing looked at me and I swear it almost tried to back away from me. I wasn't going to let that happen. With a quick rush, I closed the distance within a matter of seconds, slipping under a sweep of the great sword, aimed to remove my head from my body. Once under his guard, I swung upward, severing the beast's hand and sending its sword flying into the fray. While it howled in pain, a quick low sweep to the knee brought it down to the ground. After that all I remember is a lot of blood flying through the air, into my eyes, tasting blood on my lips and tongue… then something strange happened. I know the thing was nearly dead because on my last swing, after sinking my blade into its hide of the who knows how manyith time, the weapon broke. I discarded the hilt in the same swing and started to bring my fist around to just punch on this thing, but instead of punching it, my hand stopped short. I felt a strange burning sensation in the palm of my hand and the creature was suddenly engulfed in flames. Its death cry brought me much pleasure, more then it should of, but I knew that the thing was dead. It killed my mother, so I reaped my revenge upon it. After it fell completely to the ground in a smoldering heap of charred flesh and melted metal, a wave a vertigo swept over me and the last thing I remember seeing was the hard cobblestones of the square, covered in blood, rushing up to meet me…