Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Of Knights & Judges ❯ Chase in the Night ( Chapter 2 )

Of Knights and Judges

Chapter 2: Chase in the Night

 

Archades would pretty much shut down at night. Save for a few happy drunk off-workers and your 'ladies of the evening', well-nigh no one is on the streets. The tavern is at the back of the armory and weapons shop. If you ask me, I think it is a foolish place to put a tavern. People get drunk and do stupid things, like rob an armory and weapons shop. But then again, there are usually imperials in the tavern throughout the day. Not to guard it, but to drink, after their shift of course. Hopefully no one would be too imprudent to try anything on that magnitude; stealing in front of an officer.

 

We have also been having trouble with black marketers of late. Word on the streets is the product called 'Haze' has become a new favorite inhalant. Personally, I've never seen this 'Haze' before, but I heard it was stolen from the Draklor Laboratories and is being produced elsewhere. It was meant to increase the potency of our soldiers in the war, but it was never deemed safe for usage. The effects can be detrimental if used in an improper manner.

 

Tonight will be mine and Floyd's turn to keep these late night drinkers in line. They had best not do anything on my watch; I'm itching to hurt someone seconds flat. I guess I am still upset about what happened earlier. Who would have guessed such an upstanding man could be so cruel?

 

Gabranth, what has gotten into you?

 

This is not the first time I had asked that question. Unfortunately, I was not coming up with any answers, and the only one who could answer would not speak to me. I gulp down a shot of whiskey and let my mind spin for a minute. "Hit me again, sir," I drearily mumble to the bartender in front of me.

 

"Yes, ma'am." He says before pouring me another shot.

 

I wolf it down and gasp right after, feeling the warm of the liquor spread through me. "Hey, Tekiela. You still owe me for your last five drinks I paid. Any chance of you paying me up tonight?" I cagily glance at my partner, Floyd from the corner of my eye. He sits on the barstool beside me, drinking his beer in peace.

 

"Hey, relax! Ya' know I'm good for it, sweetie." Floyd cheerily states.

 

"If you're so 'good', then pay for my drinks tonight." I sniff, waving for the bartender to pour me another shot. "I'm running short on gil right now. I probably shan't receive any until the day after tomorrow."

 

"Oh? You have a plan for extra cash?"

 

"Just a minor trinket I picked up in the deadlands this afternoon." I pull out the blood sullied locket I found earlier to show him. It looks a tad better, having the majority of the sludge being rubbed off in my leather pouch. Of course now I'll probably have to buy another potion pouch. "If refined, this should fetch me a pretty gil or two thousand."

 

"Nice, but I think you should keep it," Floyd thoughtfully murmurs while examining the crusty azure locket. "Blue is a good color on you. Find a nice dress to match and you won't be able to keep the guys off ya'." I snort grumpily, stuffing the locket back in my pouch. He looks at me quietly for a second and then bows his head, sighing deeply. "Kahz, you have gotta get off this 'Gabranth' guy. It's obvious he's not interested."

 

Shaking my head, I scoff at Floyd in bitter hilarity. "You just have not a clue, do you Tekiela?"

 

"Sorry?"

 

I turn my head to him, smirking lightly. "Gabranth is a 'friend' of mine. Or at least was a special friend. Nothing more."

 

"...Oh, well pardon me for the error! It was SO obvious with the continuous moping and infatuations!" Floyd said this with insincerity and an impish grin. Normally in this aggravated state of mind I'm in, I would be inclined to shove that spiky redhead of his into my shot glass. He had best be happy I'm too out of it to release my aggression on him.

 

"Just shut up and pay for my drinks, Tekiela."

 

He merely laughs prior to pulling out his money pouch from his cuirass; a hard to reach place in my opinion. Floyd keeps his gil in the strangest spots. I take another shot of whiskey and let out a long sigh. "Ah, but you know you are right, Floyd. Despite our past relationship, Gabranth has moved on ahead. I should just let go..."

 

I lay my arms along the bar table and rest my head down on them, inhaling deep. "It is just that he is the only person who helped me see this through, with becoming a judge and all. Even when my parents disowned me, taking away all that belonged to family, leaving me with nothing, he was there. Gabranth was there for me." I swallow the growing lump in my throat before giving another quivering sigh, "It hurts, Floyd. It hurts to let go."

 

Floyd simply gazes down at me, emotionless before going back to drinking his beer in silence. The bartender offers me another shot. Not raising my head up, I weakly lift a hand to confirm his offer. That liquor was starting to help my emotional pain fade. I sip it down slowly and set the tiny glass back down on the bar counter after drinking it all. "Another, please," I groggily demand, waving a hand in the air.

 

"No more for her after this one, sir," I hear Floyd say to the bartender. I lift my head up slightly to glare darkly at him.

 

"What do you mean 'no more for her after this one'? I am quite capable of deciding for myself how much is too much, thank you."

 

"And I would be more than delighted to watch ya' wallow in your depression with Mr. Whiskey, but you forget I'm payin' up for it." He smirks knowingly, waving his money pouch in my face. "You'll drink me out of house and home tonight, sweetie. For the sake of letting that NOT happen, I say ya've had enough."

 

Now that is a bunch of hogwash. Floyd comes from a very wealthy household, like one I originated from. He probably carries more gil than five imperial elites make monthly. He should have enough gil on him to buy the whole tavern at this moment! But I'll bite anyway. I am an elite imperial of Archadia. I should not have to stoop so low as to becoming a drunkard to solve my problems. Truth be told, I believe Floyd is doing this for my own well being, though he would never say it.

 

Shrugging in defeat, I sit erect on my barstool and gradually drink my last shot for the night.

 

"I should be getting home soon. My family will worry," Floyd declares on a whim.

 

"Very well." I swallow the last drop of liquor and glance over my shoulder to check out the rest of the room. All appears to be calm. The number of patrons in the room can be counted on one hand. Just as I am about to give Floyd the okay to leave, something catches my eye.

 

There are two people sitting in a shaded, far-off corner. One of them is a man for certain, wearing an eye patch and a black bandanna on his head. Shady in appearance, this man looks of a pirate. The shorter of the two is dressed in a dark cloak; their head is covered, so I cannot see the face or determine the gender. The cloaked person looks suspicious enough and I only trust a pirate as far as I can throw them, (which is not far). But the main thing that really arouses my suspicions is the hefty sack of gil being given to the pirate.

 

'Haze' money...?

 

Not shifting my gaze from the two, I nudge my head towards them a little. "Hey, Floyd. Do you-"

 

"Yeah, I see 'em," he firmly informs me from behind. "Wanna check into it?"

 

“Soon enough. We want to be sure first." Not long after does the cloaked figure stand from their seat and hurriedly make their way for the exit. I slide off my barstool, "I have this one. You keep your eye on the pirate."

 

"Right. Be careful, Kahzmir," my partner whispers before we separate. Casually, I make my way out of the tavern. It is going to be a task trying to follow this cloaked figure without being conspicuous. My armor clinks and clanks with each step I take. Hopefully, I can maintain a distance where they cannot hear me, but I can still see them.

 

Outside, the city is dark, with nothing but a few streetlamps to light the way. I spot the figure running north, towards Old Archades, the slums of our town. I follow.

==

Narrator POV

 

In the Alley of Low Whispers, two shadows stand behind an old pillar by the river. A couple of men rendezvous, taking heed of each sound they hear. It would be a bad thing for them if they were caught now. The taller of the two shifts his eyes about as he questions the shorter. "What of our man? He got the stuff?"

 

The other nods, whispering, “Just got word from the tavern. Our guy'll send h-"

 

"Shh! Shh!!" The taller man perks his head up, turning his head left and right. "You hear that?"

 

"That'll be our source." The two shift their gaze to another shadow coming around the corner to meet them.

==

First-person POV

 

Archades is quite dark come eventide, even with the lit up streets. Old Archades is much, much worse. The slums have very little means to support themselves, which is quite sad considering the prosperity of our city. Being the daughter of a noble, I grew up with a lot of the luxuries and was unaware of the slums. That changed after I left home. I am not poor, but I am no longer considered a noble among the people. Living in Archades is such a difficult chore for those without wealth, even for a judge.

 

Old Archades is a rubble cluttered rundown place that has no streetlamps. Without the glow of the moon and stars, it would be impossible to get around at night. I count my blessings of not having to reside in this place. How close I came...

 

The cloaked figure disappears around the corner of a nearby pillar. So far they have not noticed me. I continue follow until I hear voices. Peering around the corner, I spot the cloaked figure along with two taller individuals. I cannot hear word for word, but I do pick up on the topic.

 

"The goods... make it... 'Haze'."

"We'll ship...have it by next week..."

 

...It is just as we thought.

 

Apparently, my shrouded 'friend' is a benefactor to having the inhalant trade. They went to the tavern the give the pirate the gil to have it made. Most likely a noble; the despicable fool! I will see them rotting the rest of their lives away in the dungeons!

 

Quietly, I take my javelin and make my way over to them, being sure to keep myself hidden. Strangely though, it gets quiet the closer I get until finally there is nothing but silence. Puzzled by this, I peek around the corner again to see what has happened. No one is there. They gave me the slip!

 

...Curses! I lost them!

 

Groaning silently, I put away my javelin on my back and take a look around where the two 'Haze' traders and their sponsor were standing. There's a scattered trail of shoe markings leading off into a cramped alley just ahead. They must have run off into there.

 

Taking my javelin into my hands again, I give chase into the narrow lane. The smell of something rotting infiltrates my helmet, making me gag a bit. I did not realize the smell of the slums could get any worse. There's a cry. A loud calling of, "Wait! Turn back! Don't come any closer!"

 

Before I can give heed to these words, I suddenly find myself passing through a thick fog. My body collapses seconds later with a loud clatter due to my armor hitting the ground. My heart begins to race from panic, but only for a moment. Every part of me becomes deathly exhausted. All my energy just seems to drain from me at a phenomenal rate. "What is happening to me...? What is... this?" I feebly query in the fog.

 

"It is... the 'Haze...'" are the last words I hear before darkness claims me.

==

The darkness fades with my increasing head pain. My ears sound of an echoing shatters of a crashing mirror shop. I feel simply nauseated. I flip over on my stomach and lay down flat, waiting for the sick moment to pass. As I rest, I observe my surroundings.

 

It would appear I am not in the alley where that fog came in. This is a dark room, like a dungeon of sorts. The floor I lay on is as jagged rock and dirt, ankle shackles are in the corner, several bones are scattered across the ground. I nearly swoon, feeling more ill at ease at seeing the latter. With strong effort, I manage to roll off my stomach and sit upright.

 

Taking in more detail of the room, I see there are no door and no guard; I could easily walk out of here. "So much for my dungeon theory. Where am I?"

 

"Oohhh..." A low moan comes from a far off corner of the room. A body lies there, covered in a large dark cloth.

 

A cloak...?

 

My energy returned to me, I carefully approach the dark lump, taking care not to make a racket with my clinking armor. I'm guessing this is the person I was chasing earlier. "Hey. Are you awake?" I gently shake the covered individual. The person groans again. Inadvertently rolling on to their back, their face is now exposed.

 

My heart skips a beat as I gasp aloud in bafflement. Lying in front of me is none other than the lord and emperor of Archadia! No one can imagine my shock at this moment!

 

"Lord... L-lord Larsa?!" I cry aloud, yet quietly. My hand moves his sweaty black locks from over his eyes. "Emperor! Please, wake up! Sir?" It is no use. He will not budge another inch. My head spins wildly.

 

What could he possibly be doing in this place?? He could not have been the one talking with those black marketers, was he??

 

However, these questions will have to be put on hold for now. My priority is to get the young lord to safety. He is still of small stature, so I shouldn't have too much trouble carrying him. I glance around the room quickly prior to lifting the young emperor into my arms and over my left shoulder. Grabbing the nearest weapon I can use, a pair of iron shackles, I cautiously make my way out of the room and into the dark, rocky corridor.