Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Ninety-ninth Sacrifice ❯ III ( Chapter 3 )

III

982 S.A.

 

Braska looked out over the waves with eagerness of one about to set off on a new adventure. For the past two years he had been studying at the temple of Yevon in Bevelle in preparation for becoming a summoner. Maester Phate had suggested, as he did with all of the best students, that Braska go live out in the world amongst the rural people to achieve a deeper understanding of Spira. Phate decided that he go the Kilika; the tropical forest of the volcanic island was an experience that Phate thought that the young man would appreciate to the metal of Bevelle.

No longer did Braska wear the cream colored robes accustomed to students of Yevon-Bevelle, but a much more natural ensemble that allowed him to blend with the people more easily. On his top he wore a black shirt that was tighter than a robe, but not too tight; the sleeves of which he usually pushed up to his elbows. Over the shirt he wore a vest that closed in a similar fashion to the robes he used to wear, but it had no sleeves. It had an embroidered pattern of a fish that he quite liked on the front. The pants he wore were tied off at the knee and had leather stitched on the front of the knee and the backside as a buffer. Braska suspected the pants were made for riding chocobos. He wore simple sandals that stayed in place with velcro.

Being from the temple of Yevon-Bevelle, which was situated almost a hundred feet above sea level, Braska hadn't many chances to smell the sea. Now that he was on a boat, he almost gulped the pleasant smell on the wind in. He didn't even mind the odd stares he was receiving from passersby.

“All aboard!” called a burly man with dark skin at the ramp that connected the boat to the dock. Few more passengers had to board, but Braska watched them with slight interest. He found his curiosity paid off when a stunningly beautiful woman was the last person to run onto the ship. The burly man asked her if she had any one else behind her, but she shook her head.

As the young woman gathered herself and her bags, the boat started off from the dock. Braska found himself blushing when the sudden jolt almost knocked himself off his feet, while the woman barely budged. Braska saw her smile when the burly man yelled, “Nacao! Don't do that again! We don't need to sink the ship before we go!”

A voice from inside the cabin came back, yelling, “It's not my fault! We're going completely straight!”

The burly man sighed and turned to the young woman. “Sorry for the inconvenience, miss.”

“That's quite alright,” she smiled, her voice like a flute. Braska felt his knees quiver when she spoke.

When the burly man went about his duties, the woman resigned herself to leaning on the railing. Braska, leaning on the same railing a few feet down from the woman, began to study her appearance. She was nothing like he had ever seen. Everything she wore seemed to be for a practical function, however little there was of it. On her chest she wore a triangle top of heavy white fabric, the type the sails are made of. On her shoulders rested a huge vest with deep pockets large enough to hold any assortments of knives and tools, and probably did. Very low on her hips rested a large pair of pants that had been cut off below the knee and allowed to fray for what looked like a long time. On her hands she wore black mesh gloves, and on her feet she wore leather shoes with white socks. A large bag made from the same fabric her triangle top was, but much dirtier, slung precariously over her shoulder.

Though what struck Braska as the most memorable about her was her face. Like the rest of the skin on her body, her face was deeply freckled, then tanned wherever the freckles didn't reach. She had the skin of a person who has undoubtedly spent much of her like out on the sea. Her hair, which may have one time in her life been brown, had been bleached blonde by the sun. The way in which her lips were chapped, and the fact that she didn't take any measure like other women would have to alleviate them being chapped, intrigued Braska. This woman obviously had many things to fill up her time if she was so ignorant of any womanly make up techniques. Though, on her eyes, she wore perfectly round darkened glasses that were just big enough to cover her eye. Understandable, Braska thought, for a sea voyage. He found himself wishing he had enough prescience of mind to bring his own glasses, as well as that she would take them off.

Seeing as they would be on this boat together, as well as with many other passengers and crew members for the next few weeks, Braska decided to say hello to her. Mostly to be friendly, but also to make her notice him before she noticed any other men on the ship. Unlike in his teenage days, Braska did not feel as awkward when speaking to women, experience, or lack thereof, not withstanding.

Pushing himself away from the railing, Braska walked over to the intriguing woman. As he came towards her, she inclined her head to look at him. “Hi, I'm Braska,” he said, holding his hand out.

The woman paused before she took his hand. Braska felt anxious when she paused, fearful that she would tell him to go away. “Sara,” she said after the pause. She gave Braska a good, firm shake, which he wasn't quite expecting from a woman.

“So, are you from Bevelle?” Braska leaned forward on the railing beside her, watching Bevelle shrink into the distance.

“Nope,” she grunted, positioning herself the same way as Braska, with her arms resting on the rails. “I'm glad to be rid of it quite frankly.”

“Why?” asked Braska, turning his head to look at her. He loved how she tied her thick blonde hair up in a very messy pony tail, random braids sticking out here and there. She looked positively like a pirate.

When she spoke again, it dawned on Braska that this woman could be dangerous. Before the last Sin, Braska would have avoided a woman like this. But, now that he has resigned himself for a death he could predict in eight years, he wanted to enjoy every adventure thrown his way. “I hate all of the Yevon freaks here. The whole place is teeming with self righteousness. I'm tired of all the `I'm so much holier than thou' bull.”

Braska gulped in some air when he heard her bash his people. Though, he did find that some people like Maester Mika greatly resembled her vision of people from Bevelle. “That's a pretty angry response.”

“Well, you'd be angry too if you had to … let's talk about something else. Where are you from?”

Braska scratched the back of his neck and shyly pointed at the fading Bevelle in the distance.

The woman laughed and slapped him on the back. “Hey, it's not like everyone from a place are idiots just because the rest of them are. So, what are you going to Kilika for?”

“Um,” Braska paused, not wanting to sound like he was going because of Yevon, even though he was. “I'm, uh, studying there, because of all of the volcanic activity.”

“Huh, sounds dangerous. You should hire some help or something if you're going to do that.”

“Why?” Braska was confused by her response.

“Well, I don't know from first hand experience, but fiends should be running around in the forests there. You should hire someone to fight them for you, y'know?”

“Unfortunately,” smiled Braska, “I'm just a lowly student, and I don't have any money.”

“Wow,” she said, looking into the distance of blue sea. “I've never met a student before. It's always been sailors with me.”

“Yeah, I expected as much.”

“Now, what is that supposed to mean, smart boy?” she asked, her hands firmly placed on her hips.

“I didn't mean anything derogatory by that. I've just noticed that you have very good sea legs and that your skin is much tanned and your hair is sun bleached. All of these physical descriptors would allow me to surmise that you, yourself are a sailor.”

“Hmm,” she murmured, and ruffled the already messy brown hair on Braska's head. “Nice observations. My bro would like you. We should stick together!” Then, in a whisper, she added, “Leave all of the rest of the rabble on this ship to their own devices.”

Braska nodded with a smile in response to her heartily laugh, and looked off into the distance. He felt that this woman could easily become someone special in his life, despite every one of her vices.

 

 

 

 

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