Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Desolation ❯ Loneliness ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter 4: Loneliness

Marche could not ignore the strangely familiar icy sensation that filled his body. It began the moment he first caught sight of the Randell home. Every step that brought him closer seemed to summon more and more dread in his heart.

Ritz did not help at all by refusing to go in with him. She'd said something about him needing to do this on his own. Marche, however, suspected she was just as afraid as he was. Either that, or she had developed a Viera-like awareness that warned her against certain things.

The house itself was dark and presumably empty, but Ritz assured him that Mewt was home. Marche kept glancing at the closed curtains in the windows, thinking someone or something was watching his every move. There was just a certain something about the house that wouldn't allow him to relax. Even when he knocked on the door, he only did it once, as if the echo would be enough to draw attention.

There was no immediate sign of his knock being heard, and Marche was considering doing it again when the door swung open without warning. His blood ran cold at the sight that greeted his eyes, because it was far too unexpected a shock. Yet, at the same time, Marche knew he should've expected it. With all the things that were wrong in St. Ivalice now, it all had to originate from something this bad.

"You're late," Llednar stated, as if he expected Marche to be ashamed of himself.

"We made an additional stop at the hospital," Marche replied, which was true. He had all but begged Ritz to try healing Doned again, after her success with Cid. Unfortunately, she had refused, insisting that if it hadn't worked the first time, it wouldn't work the second. He got the impression that she was trying to be very conservative with her magic, but he wasn't sure why.

"I suppose you want to see Mewt?" Llednar asked, looking him over as if he were a particularly interesting bug.

"What are you doing here?" Marche asked coldly.

"What I was always meant to do: protect Mewt from certain annoying meddlers who shall remain nameless." Of course, since he never looked away from Marche, not even to glare at Ritz, there was little doubt of whom he meant.

"So you are or you aren't holding him prisoner here?" Marche demanded.

Llednar actually looked as if he might laugh. "Are you insane? The poor boy is distraught, you fool. He has lost his mother and now his father. He needs comfort. He needs support. He needs protection from people like you. I don't have to hold him; he has no desire to set foot outside this house."

"Then I guess I'll have to come in," Marche said, taking a step forward. When Llednar didn't remove himself from the doorway, he added, "I'll walk over you if I have to."

Llednar smiled darkly. "No, I don't think you will." He stepped forward as well, and suddenly there was a sword pressed against Marche's neck. The truly frightening thing was that it had to have appeared out of thin air, since Llednar had made no move to draw it.

Even more disturbing was the fact that Marche recognized the sword. "Nagrarok," he whispered carefully as the blade was pressed even harder against his neck. "Where did you get that?"

Llednar arched an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you know it. Then you also know what it can do…more precisely, what I can do to you with it." He removed the sword and tapped it lightly against his shoulder as he spoke. "That aside, I have retained all my other abilities in this world. One wrong move and you'll find yourself drowning in Abyss. Somehow, I doubt you'll find it so easy to recover from, with your little healer friend running on empty."

Marche couldn't help glancing at Ritz, but she was clearly ignoring the two young men.

"You may see Mewt," Llednar said after a long moment. "If you upset him, I will make you suffer. If you don't leave, I will take pleasure in destroying you. There will be no Judgemaster to save you this time." His face seemed to grow darker. "I've made sure of that." He prodded Marche with his sword. "Go. You have until Mewt tires of you, which I estimate will be ten minutes."

Marche slipped by Llednar, his mind reeling from the revelation. Had Llednar had something to with the loan sharks tracking down Cid? And how was it that he retained so much of his power from Ivalice, while Ritz had so little? Did he have some kind of control over both worlds? Or had Remedi's power somehow been transferred to Llednar? It was possible but highly unlikely that Mewt had answers, but whether he could or would share them with Marche was another matter.

* * * * *

Ritz estimated only five minutes passed before the front door opened, and Marche came sailing out, landing in the snowbank at her feet. He didn't seem to be badly hurt, at least, and got to his feet far too quickly to have any major injuries.

Llednar glared at them from the door. "You had your time. Never come here again, unless you grow tired of existing. In that case, I would be all too happy to spare a Life Render or two."

Before Marche could open his mouth to reply, Ritz was dragging him away. He growled in frustration and stomped after her.

"I take it talking to Mewt didn't go well?" she asked after a long moment.

"No," Marche almost spat. "He acted like I was the cause of all his problems, especially his parents. Even worse, he actually seems to think that Llednar will take good care of him."

"He will, you know," Ritz replied at once.

"Don't YOU start," Marche groaned.

"Have you ever seen Llednar harm Mewt?" Ritz asked, not looking at him.

"…no," Marche answered hesitantly.

"Have you ever seen him harm anyone that wasn't affiliated with your clan?"

"No, but what does that-"

"Then what makes you think he'd ever hurt Mewt, knowing what you know about both of them?" Ritz finally stopped and turned to him. "They're two sides of the same coin, Marche. Llednar actually is the best guardian for Mewt, even if Cid was in any condition to take care of him. He would die before he let anything happen to Mewt, whether you know it or not."

"Actually, I'm more curious how YOU know it," Marche asked, pulling away from her. "I don't recall you being there when Judgemaster Cid explained that to me."

Ritz rolled her eyes. "It doesn't take a genius, Marche. Llednar's name is Mewt's backwards, and they're exact opposites. Only a fool couldn't see they're connected. Llednar is everything Mewt could want in a father and a brother. He exists only to protect Mewt. He won't ever get distracted or bored; he has no other purpose."

Marche stared at her in disbelief. "So it doesn't bother you at all that Llednar probably had everything to do with what happened to Cid?"

"It wouldn't matter. You had me heal Cid, remember? And do you also remember how angry Cid was when I did that? You can never leave well enough alone, Marche, and now you're paying for it."

"I've decided," Marche said suddenly, backing away from her. "I don't like the new you at all."

Ritz smiled sadly at him. "I see. And is that because I scare you, or because you're scared I might right?"

"You CAN'T be right!" Marche shouted. "None of what you just said makes any sense! At least, it wouldn't have made sense to the old Ritz!"

Her face fell. "Marche, the old Ritz was too blind to see that she hurt the person who loved her most each and every day. Do you really want that person back?"

"Yes! At least I knew I could trust that person, because she wasn't perfect! She had problems like I did, she didn't have all the answers, and she cared when her friends were in pain! Now I know why you wear all white. You're just a pale imitation of the girl I used to know!"

Before either of them realized what was happening, her hand flew up and struck swiftly. He stumbled back more from shock than pain, but the pain followed instantly, and he carefully touched his glowing cheek.

"Well, I guess you were right, Marche," Ritz said, her voice burning through his heart like acid. "You're in pain, and I DON'T care." With that, she stormed away, her white hair whipping wildly as the wind picked up.

Marche stared after her until she vanished around the corner. It was then that he felt warm wetness slipping through his fingers. He drew his hand back to find blood staining his palm. As he turned to go home, Marche was unable to ignore the fact that she certainly still hit like the old Ritz.

* * * * *

Strangely, it was because of Ritz that Marche didn't have to wander the streets aimlessly. He hadn't gone far when something told him to check his pockets. In the left one, he found Eldena's Angel Ring, and then slipped it on without knowing why. In the right, he found a slip of paper with an address on it. Normally, he wouldn't have given it any real importance, except that he recognized Ritz's handwriting right away. While he was still upset with her, Marche knew Ritz must've snuck this into his pocket before their last argument, almost as if she'd known they would separate. But then, he was starting to think that there was precious little that this new Ritz didn't know.

The address seemed a bit too familiar, and Marche soon found out why. He had sometimes imagined that his father was dead, and to feed the illusion, he would often walk over to the local cemetery and pretend one of the tombstones held his father's name. His mother had not tried to stop these morbid trips, so long as Marche promised never to involve Doned in them.

But there was no need to imagine this night. For when Marche reached the cemetery, he found his father's tombstone right away. It was in the very first row, dead center, and marked by a single blue rose. Had Marche looked any closer, he might have realized that it was the very same he'd given to Ritz in Ivalice. But something else had caught his attention by then.

There was a tombstone next to his father's, and the earth before it was still soft, proving the burial had been very recent. Marche felt something break inside him as he read the name over and over again, trying to convince himself that it couldn't be true.

"Mom," he whispered brokenly, sinking to his knees. Marche couldn't help feeling both miserable and guilty. Was death the only way his parents could ever be together in peace? Had he and Doned been that much of a burden on them?

A new thought entered his head: Ritz had known. From the start, most likely, she'd known that his parents were dead. White hot rage bubbled over inside him, and Marche scrambled angrily to his feet. She'd been lying to him all this time, letting him stumble upon one misfortune after another, obviously leading him to the greatest one of all. He was almost glad they'd parted ways before now, because if Ritz had been here when he finally realized…well, he would've lost it completely. As it was, he wanted to grab her and shake her until she could never lie or make actually make him feel guilty for stealing away her happiness. What was happiness compared to having both her parents above ground?

"Your anger is misplaced, young warrior," said a voice behind him.

Marche froze where he stood. He knew that voice, and would never forget it, no matter how hard he tried. It was very difficult to suppress the urge to whip around with his fists flying, but he suspected that it would do little or no good. In the end, it didn't matter. His body stopped responding to his commands a moment later, and turned to face his visitor. And even when he finally saw her, it was hard to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

"Remedi," he hissed softly.

"Hello, Marche," she replied with something like pity in her voice. Then she stepped closer, her outstretched hand keeping his body in place as she neared him. "There is something I must tell you."

Marche managed to squeeze his eyes shut as he felt her light but powerful hands glide over his shoulders and up to his neck. Remedi had managed to follow him even here, and now he was going to die at her hands. His being angry at Ritz was instantly forgotten in the face of impending and certain doom…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Next Chapter: Desolation

Marche loses everything…except a chance to get it all back.