paixaorpg | The Time To Act Is Here (Active)

Braska waited patiently near the entrance to the restaurant, looking around for the young boy he was to meet. He had only the slightest idea of why someone might come to him for information, but if it was for what he thought it was (Larsa had been speaking with Timon, after all), it really was best that they discussed matters in person.

Still, the young boy seemed to be quite mature for what the High Summoner could tell of his age. He wondered why.

Larsa's eyes landed on someone standing outside the restaurant and he moved over to see if this was the person he was looking for. The man appeared to be who he'd spoken with, but one could never be sure after all.

With the air of a young prince, Larsa approached the man. "Excuse me, I am Larsa Solidor and I am looking for a man named Braska. Perhaps you could aid me?"

((fdjksl Still not used to this posting formula. XDD))

Braska smiled at the young man. "I assume you are Larsa? I am Braska. It is a pleasure to meet you." He bowed politely, only barely restraining himself from performing the traditional bow of Yevon. Even now it was so difficult to break habit.

"Come, let us sit inside," he offered, gesturing toward the door in invitation.

Larsa's surprise registered on his face for a moment before formality took its place and he bowed in return. "I am Larsa Solidor," he answered, expression breaking into a smile. "I am honored to be allowed your company today."

Turning, he strode through the doors and waited to see where to go from here. Things were so different and he was still learning what to do and how to do it.

He decided to take a seat at a fairly out of the way table, near people and yet not so near that they'd be able to be heard by anyone. Business or not, it always felt better to be among people, even strangers, than alone. He didn't bother to look at the menu, instead ordering some tea for himself. It had been too long since he had enjoyed a nice cup.

"You said you had questions for me?" Braska asked, folding his hands in front of him on the table after the waiter, a young, blond native, had left. "What can I do to help?"

Larsa followed and slid into the seat across from Braska. He paused for a moment to glance at the menu before ordering a mug of calming chamomile tea. Once the waiter had left, the prince lifted his gaze back to his companion.

"I have, regrettably, learned little about this city," he began carefully. "When I first arrived here, I was greeted by my guardian from Ivalice, my home. However, soon after, he disappeared in front of me. I have not been able to locate him so far, but my attentions were diverted to a possible group I might be able to aid in return for the possibility of finding the Judge Magister. I was told you might have information. I will return the favor any way that I am able."

His voice was calm and quiet, but loud enough for Braska to hear. His expression was guarded as he spoke, but it was obvious he was trying to guard his emotions more than anything else.

He noticed the usage of the word "guardian," but it didn't seem as though it were in the same sense as the word he knew it as. Braska nodded, his expression solemn as he heard about Larsa's friend's disappearance.

"You do not need to return any favors, I assure you. I am perfectly willing to give you any and all information I may have," he told him.

The High Summoner looked up at the ceiling for a moment before slowly letting out a soft sigh and looking back down again. "Where would you like me to begin?" He paused, before he came up with an answer to his own question. "Though I suppose the easiest place would be who it likely was who took him."

Well this was certainly a change, but not an unwelcome one. Somehow, this man felt as though he understood Larsa's feelings. This helped a little bit in the emperor's eyes.

He listened carefully before shaking his head ever so slightly at the mention of 'who.' He'd already already heard enough about them. "I have already learned as much about them as I care to unless you know of where he might be. Timon was gracious."

Folding his hands together on the table in front of him, Larsa sighed wearily and tried to get his thoughts in order. So much had happened in so short a time. It had really thrown him off. He continued, choosing his words carefully as he moved his gaze to meet Braska's. "My interest lies with another group of people. I believe it would benefit all involved if I were to aid you as I am able."

Braska nodded in return. "He usually is," he replied with a soft chuckle. It was a wonder how much the meerkat knew of the group. Then again, from what Braska could tell, he had been there for a long time, longer than many of the people in the Resistance had, at least, and even with all of them together telling what they knew, it was still somewhat astounding.

"I see," he replied thoughtfully. "So you would like to join our own group." He wasn't entirely sure he liked the idea of one so young joining such a dangerous cause, but something told him that there was more to this boy than met the eye. He knew how to handle himself, and he seemed careful about what information he was given, but, even so...

"You are sure about this? It is... far from an easy task in front of us. This is a dangerous group we are against, even moreso with the arrival of those in City Hall. These people will not hesitate to kill, no matter the individual before them."

Larsa listened carefully to what Braska had to say, nodding when appropriate and making eye contact at the mention of joining the Resistance. He had never thought of doing this back home, mainly because the Resistance in Ivalice had been fighting against Arcadia. Here, it appeared the Resistance was going against a great evil. And all Larsa wanted was to find Judge Magister Gabranth and stop whatever was happening.

"I would like that if it would be possible," he answered cordially. "I am willing to negotiate terms if the need should arise." After all, being a prince had allowed him a fair amount of time watching his father and brother deal with Arcadian affairs. He had grown used to using his words as his own weapon.

Braska seemed to be less than happy about allowing someone so young to join. Larsa's head rose and his entire demeanor turned prince-like. "I have seen dangers in my homeland. This would not be the first time I have been through such a thing." He paused and glanced at his hands, still folded on the table in front of him. "My own brother was trading blows with me not long before I arrived here." The dark head lifted again, eyes set with determination. "I do not fear this."

Braska watched as the boy's demeanor changed, and listened closely, though he still seemed loathe to agree. Larsa seemed to have been through much in his lifetime already. It didn't seem right to place yet another burden on the boy's shoulders when he already had to fight his brother where he came from. Braska knew little of war. Even if Larsa were to further explain his situation, it would still be, to some point, unfathomable. He had seen prejudice and he had seen conflict to be sure, but all his life the people of Spira had had at least one thing to unite against. There were no countries to fight against one another anymore--war was but a story. This was his first taste of such a thing.

"I do not worry over whether or not you fear what is to come. It is the situation that worries me. You state that you have been through such things before, but this is an enemy far greater than many of us in this group has ever known." The High Summoner averted his eyes a moment, staring down at the table. "Though no one says a word of it, it is unknown how many of us will make it out of this alive. You are young and have a long life ahead of you. I only wish to be sure you know you are getting into before you make such a decision."

Something in Larsa seemed to change as the prince listened carefully to what Braska had to say. The man had a point, but even so, if Larsa could do something to help, even through word of mouth, then he would gladly do so.

"I understand," came the answer, calm and collected, as though he had expected as much. "I was a prince at home, son and then brother to the Arcadian emperor. I do not belong in this world, and though I know few who are here, someone close to me at home is also here. It is my duty to be sure he comes to as little harm as possible while I am still able to lend my aid."

He paused for breath as he chose his words carefully. "My people are not here, but if I am able to aid anyone at all while I am here, I will gladly do it. No one should ever have to suffer."

Another pause and a slight sigh accompanied those words. "If it would be best for you, I would be content to aid in the gathering and distributing of information. I will do what I am able as long as I am here. This... is my duty." And it was a duty to his family name that he took quite seriously.

Braska nodded to the waiter as he came back with their drinks, gently wrapping his hands around the cup only to pull them away a little later due to the heat. His eyes were closed as he thought on Larsa's words. The boy seemed to have enough responsibility to bear already, but he was ready to do what he could for them. He was willing to do anything he could for the sake of others and maybe... Maybe that was enough.

He nodded once, lifting his head to look the young prince in the eyes. "Very well," he sighed. He was still slightly reluctant to agree, but it almost felt wrong to deny him this chance to aid people.

"But I must insist that you observe caution while you are here," he added, pausing as the corners of his mouth upturned into a small smile. "After all, isn't a prince supposed to stay alive for those he lords over?" He laughed quietly. "Although I must admit I have neither met nor seen a prince before. I know only of the old stories that I have heard."

Larsa could understand Braska's hesitance to a point, but the prince was glad he had convinced the man to at least let him help a little. Sitting around and waiting had never been Larsa's strong suit, and he saw no reason to start it now.

"I assure you that I will," came the gentle answer as the prince moved his arms around the mug now in front of him. "I have no intention of allowing anything untoward to happen here. The Judge Magister would not be pleasant with me if I were injured."

Of course, he wasn't really one to just toss himself into a fight without first trying to talk it out, but that would probably be brought up at another time. In between all the talk about him, Larsa picked up on the fact that princes and wars were simply stories to this man, and he had to wonder what kind of place he came from.

"Were all the people of your land ruled by one government?" he asked curiously.

Braska couldn't help but laugh at that. "I know the feeling," he replied. He imagined the Auron of the past (and perhaps even him now) would have a heart attack if he ever heard something happened to him.

The High Summoner took a long drink of his tea before answering. He had a feeling this would be a long explanation, after all. He set the mug back down, keeping his hands cupped around it before he began. "By a religious order, actually, though you could say that they were one and the same. The Maesters of Yevon were our leaders with the Grand Maester above them all. The church was a major part of all--most of our lives."

"You do not have any such systems?" he asked curiously.

Larsa took a large sip of his tea as he listened to Braska speak, turning it all over in his head. This explanation was so different from what it was like in Ivalice. He shook his head when he was addressed with a question. "No. The gods were called the Occuria, though they seem to have ruled us in silence. The Dynast King of Dalmasca wielded the power of nethicite and so controlled the power as long as he lived. The Occuria controlled the mortal lives through the power of the nethicite, though they did not expect us to worship them."

It was a different sort of thing than what Braska had voiced, though Larsa's explanation really wasn't doing the situation justice.

The surprise was evident on Braska's face. He would have thought something like Spira's system would have been more common, but, then again, he was probably so used to it that it may have happened much less often than he thought.

Larsa's explanation, however, baffled the man. He had heard something similar of Yevon, but Yevon had never invested all that these "Occuria" had. "Dynast King?" he echoed, "I have never heard of such a title before. What does a Dynast King do?"

Larsa's mug reached his lips again as he offered a little smile in response to Braska. It seemed their worlds were really quite different. His response would be to the best of his knowledge, though he didn't know as much as Ashe had.

"There has only been one Dynast King to my knowledge, Raithwall of Dalmasca," the prince began, hands cupped around the mug for confidence and stability as he explained. "It is said that those who have Raithwall's blood in their veins may have their lineage proven by the shards of nethicite he left behind. These shards were given to him by the Occuria and he ruled for a long while, peacefully. As long as the nethicite was kept safe, its power could be used. I only know what I have heard, though being a descendant of Arcadia, Dalmasca's enemy of late, I have not heard much about what the shards of nethicite are capable of. I only know that Midlight Shard was what brought the ruin of the land of Nabudis. Two years have passed. Now they call it a necrohol for none but beasts roam the land now."

It was a sad thing, really. Nabudis had been a great land and it saddened Larsa to think of what his father had done.

Braska's eyes held a hint of sadness as he mused over Larsa's words. "That's terrible. I... truly am sorry," he apologized, head bowed. How could so terrible of things have happened? He had seen with his own eyes what war wrought, but to hear if described by someone who had been alive to see its ravages for himself--especially so young--it... was horrifying.

And to think these Occuria had put such power into people's hands to do such damage. They were the cause of it all; did they even think of all they had harmed? He could hardly call a peace forged by fear and steel a peace at all.

"Why did these wars begin?" Braska finally asked. He wasn't certain whether or not Larsa would be able to tell him the answer to his question, but he needed to know, to make sense of it all somehow.

For the young prince, the fall of Nabudis was yet another strike on the side against war. Larsa wanted no more of it, no more needless bloodshed, and no more loss of life. Nabudis had caused him no end of heartache when he had discovered the truth of the matter and he had made a vow to himself, a promise that he would never allow something like that to happen again as long as he was emperor. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he wasn't emperor yet, but the promise stood regardless.

Braska's question brought him out of his reverie and he shook his head sadly. "I.. do not know," came the answer. "I only knew that I must bring an end to them, end the needless suffering and bloodshed. My brother... I believe my brother only wished the best for Arcadia, as did my father. However, I did not support their methods and reasoning. Had I remained in Arcadia longer, the ability to change the situation in Ivalice could have fallen into my hands."

He frowned confusedly. He honestly couldn't understand the point of it all. He could understand one wanting the best for his country and his people, but he couldn't see how one could take so many lives in doing so. Did that not negate any good that could possibly have been done?

But at least it seemed Larsa understood that and was working to stop such madness, which only gave the boy more respect in Braska's eyes. "I believe you would have made much progress," he replied. Larsa was already in a very influential position being who he was in his world, with such ideas he could very well turn everything around. Braska believed that those who truly wanted bloodshed were few and far between. No doubt they would listen to him.

The man's support was appreciated and it brought out a small smile from Larsa. "I thank you," the prince murmured gently with a soft sigh as he finished his tea. It was starting to get late, but he didn't really have anywhere else to be... he just didn't want to be out on the streets in the evening.

"I can only hope I would have been able to end the suffering of all the peoples of Ivalice. Connections with the warring nation of Rozarria would have aided me."

With a sigh, he set his mug down again and folded his hands on the table. "Judge Magister Gabranth was my guardian in Ivalice. He is the one I am searching for here." It went without saying that he was asking for any shred of news about Gabranth that he could find.

"I have neither met nor heard of your guardian," Braska apologized, "But I assure you we--I will do what I can to help. If it is any consolation, I doubt any guardian, no matter what world they may be from would allow themselves to fall so easily. I'm sure he's doing his best to return."

He doubted saying so would do much good. It would likely take the boy seeing Gabranth for himself to ease his fears, but he understood. Not knowing was just as difficult, if not moreso, than knowing. "All we can do now is keep searching."

Larsa sighed softly. He'd held out some hope, but had had the feeling this would be the case. Ah well. It hadn't hurt to ask. "I thank you," came the answer. The support was appreciated and he looked over gratefully.

"I shall be doing my own searching. Your willingness to aid me and speak with me on this matter is greatly appreciated. If I may return the favor in any way, I will do so." He sighed softly for the moment before reaching for the money to pay for his tea. "I am afraid I must return to my search. I will not rest until I know he is safe."

The smile he gave Braska this time was worried, though still kind. He would wait, though, until the man had finished his tea, they had paid, and no more questions had come to either of their minds.

He shook his head. "You need not trouble yourself with favors. I do what this to help others, not for a reward. I dislike seeing so many people in distress here."

Braska held up a hand as Larsa started to pull out his money. "There is no need for that," he insisted. "I am the one who decided on this place, after all. I would be glad to pay." It wasn't exactly a burden on him, but if the only thing Larsa had on him was money from his world, it would certainly be a burden on him when he got home. Even if the boy was a prince, it still didn't sit well with him.

With his only other meeting being with Timon, Larsa had expected to at least pay for his own meal. The surprise registered on his face for a moment before he smiled and inclined his upper body slightly. "Thank you. You are most kind. With any luck we shall meet again."

Larsa would enjoy another meeting. The older man's company had been quite enjoyable, despite the topic of discussion at hand. Perhaps there would be another opportunity in the future.

"If you have need of me in the future, please inform me." For now, he was going to head back home and try to put together the pieces from this meeting. He bowed again and turned. If Braska didn't say anything that warranted his aid, he was going to leave.

Braska nodded. "I hope we do," he replied, returning the smile with one of his own. "Although... under better circumstances. I will be sure to let you know if anything happens."

The High Summoner bowed, polite as ever, though now filled with a healthy respect for the young prince. "I wish you luck in finding your friend."

The Time To Act Is Here (Active)

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aaand it's about time he brought on the emperor-speak XD

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