[Action | Rabanastre Cathedral | OTA]

[blessedsaint]

[Despite the deluge being present south of Rabanastre, the skies over the city are clear and full of sunshine. It's the perfect day for an impromptu gathering, one such as the one massing outside the cathedral. The sun is nearing its zenith in the sky, but the crowds are ignoring the heat, for a chance to listen to the priest on the cathedral steps.

Ajora is unlike the other Kiltia priests. Rather than clothe himself in ornate and ostentatious robes with cloth-of-gold and jewels enough to feed a small city, he and his acolytes merely wear plain cloaks of simple cotton cloth. They appear, by all appearances, to be simple and humble, more concerned with the people and their needs than extensive and costly show of rank.

He is delivering a most stirring sermon about the goodness and light of Faram. The Father of Light alone is worthy of worship and his Paradise is nigh for all. It is a radical theology to many, but there is such an air of goodness about the priest, that is is hard to deny his doctrine. There is a promise of hope, of salvation from suffering and grief, which has e'er been the close companion of the Dalmascans since the Imperial Occupation. It is the tantalizing promise of relief, the promise of hope for the future that compels them to listen and believe.

After he is done speaking, he spends the next several hours blessing children, soothing and comforting the hurting, easing the discomfort of the downtrodden. He and his disciples distribute alms to the poor who come with open hands. If he grows weary, there is no sign of it, as a kind smile and a warm welcome is extended to anyone who approaches.]

Comments

[haeresis]

I am afraid I do not understand what you ask of me. Speak it plainly, else I cannot answer. What is it that worries you?

[Ramza might be feigning ignorance for now, to an extent, but he also doesn't know who this Siegfried is, or why he's asking such sudden questions. He has nothing to say to the man if he has no idea of his standing in this whole affair. The mention of puppets is telling, but beyond that...?]

[cruentatafoedus]

[That feigned ignorance is obvious to Vayne, and he shakes his head. He has already said more than he wants to say, and in a crowd that makes him itch with worry.]

[The man smiles, and bows.] "If such a thing is of no interest to your knowledge, then heed it not; forgive my needless presumption." [Vayne's tone is retreating.]

[haeresis]

I said that I do not understand what you ask of me, not that I am disinterested. But if you cannot speak in anything but enigmas, there is nothing I can offer in reply.

[Ramza has little patience for puzzles or vagaries like this. He has endured too much of the machinations of others, seen too much loss at the hands of the Lucavi, to risk giving anything away to this man that he might regret later.]

[cruentatafoedus]

[That much is clear, but Ramza's interest and lack of patience gives Vayne a reason pause.]
"Ultima is freed, and from her original purpose has strayed to raise the dead - but not the dead of whom there is no mind within; they are but whole beings. [He does not speak of himself, no, that would be silly - but he doesn't know how right he is -] It is my belief that these things are connected, but through what means I cannot espy - grimoire, Esper -" [He makes a slight gesture with his hand.] "What then gives rise to Ajora?"

[haeresis]

The faith of the people gives rise to Ajora. He preaches what they wish -- nay, need -- to hear. In doing so, they follow him. [It's a deceptively simple answer, but that's all he has to say on it for now. He looks at Vayne a second longer, considering what he wishes to ask next.]

How is it you know of Ultima's actions? Such secrets could cost you your life, if spoken in the wrong ears.

[cruentatafoedus]

[The answer is perfect, and said in such a way Vayne feels a compulsion to grant the man some sort of award. How familiar.]

[The questions are unusual, however, and Vayne speaks slowly, curiouser still. He can, say, make his own story here, but what will it accomplish? The truth has always been far more entertaining, the ends of it so ludicrous -]
"To many, Espers are but tools, relics to remind Hume the arresting quality of deities and wherein the deifacted heel finds purchase in the backs of those who worship them; Espers were but the unwilling implements of their will, and through them Occurian influence did seek the continuing line of Dynast Kings, controlling history, prosperity, change, from shade and shadow." [His lips twitch.] "The story, the idea, is not oft shared lest power slips further from unworthy hands, and that my words have grabbed your ear says for me than for a passerby so unaware. Most would claim madness, heat, depravity - but you?" [Clearly they both would be told off for being mad.]

[haeresis]

[Dynast Kings? Occurian influence? The words are unfamiliar to Ramza, and before he can try to parse their meaning, the stranger has already moved onto his next point. One thing, however, stands similar -- shadowy entities working behind the scenes to manipulate the course of history, all to their own ends.]

I am not mad, but nor am I familiar with all that you tell me. If I told you the truth of my circumstances, however, perhaps you would think me mad.

[cruentatafoedus]

[Vayne avoids sarcasm. He wants information, and souring would do him no good.]
"Might I ask to hear it before you are so quick to cast doubt?"

[haeresis]

Very well, then... [Ramza looks reluctant, but nonetheless, complies. He lowers his voice, lest he be overheard.]

I am not of Ivalice -- at least, not of this Ivalice. From what I can surmise, all this belongs to what is a distant past... Twelve centuries past.

[cruentatafoedus]

[It makes about as much sense as Espers running rampant (by his reckoning), so while there is a twitch of his face, he easily moves past the ludicrous nature of it all. At the very least, he is more inclined to believe than push it aside.]
"Twelve centuries?" [He makes a sound.] "The choices do baffle me - why, whom?" [But he looks directly at Ramza, eyes studying.] "A time when Ajora is known to you and when Ultima causes some repulsion of flesh - pray, what are they to your time?"

[haeresis]

The legends are thus: Ajora was a preacher of a new faith and a worker of miracles, who saved the land by leading the twelve Zodiac Braves against a demon. Later, Ajora was cruelly executed when one of his disciplines betrayed him. He has since been revered by the Church of Glabados as a saint and child of the gods.

[Ramza glances over to the crowds. Has he already garnered that reputation here, or is he but slowly accumulating a following? It's hard to say. He looks back to Vayne.]

Ultima is known to me not as an Esper, but a Lucavi, a fell demon who was intent on bathing in the land in blood to fuel her own revival. She has since been slain.

[But here, this being the past, she still lives. Why was he brought back here? Was there something more he needed to do? But in doing so, it could very well change the course of Ivalice's history itself... He's aware he must tread very carefully.]

[cruentatafoedus]

[That had been a guess at best, and for a moment, in containing his surprise (and lack thereof in some twisted fashion, they are all connected to the Gods, after all), Vayne is silent, struggling to control his urge to pace. Cid was always the one who was more active, more alive, and yet Vayne has so oft been inclined to pulling away, staring off in contemplation.]

[But what Ramza said was a legend, correct? He prompts softly -]

"And the truth?"

[haeresis]

[Ramza studies Vayne for a long moment, then looks around to check once more that they have no eavesdroppers. Then he says in a low voice,]

The truth is that Ajora is no more a child of the gods than you or I. He did not save the world from a demon. He is a saboteur, interested in the theft of state secrets and sower of disorder.

[He shakes his head, brow furrowing in deep worry.] And the paradise he preaches of is just the opposite. A great disaster looms in Ivalice's near future, and he will be its source.

[Something that Ramza will do everything in his power to prevent -- alone if he must. If that was the reason he was brought back here into the past, then he cannot turn his back on events he knows will transpire.]

[cruentatafoedus]

[It's too much to ask for, too perfect - but he knows of Ultima's breath upon his flesh, calling it back to life, bringing he back to life in a time where it seems only more hazards are to be found.]

[It makes a strange echo of sorrow whisper and cling to his heart - he had been not wholly correct and yet still longer Cid would wait his word upon the tasks they set upon themselves.]

[At least Gabranth...still lived. His brother, Archadia, for now, would be safe.]

[This Ajora, however - the man's devices, if they were even his own, perhaps at one point he would need to meet with the priest, alone, in quiet. Learn, and adjust as he needed. He has played the terror once, and damn everything, he may just need to do it again.]

"If the words you speak are thus true, we are all truly imperiled." [There is a moment of sadness that shifts through his voice. Vayne is tired of gods, tired of toys and playthings - and he himself? Perhaps he is one and he is not even aware, but he must persist, must continue.] "Pray, forgive my overindulgence -" [Habitually a hand touches his own chest, head dipping a little -] "- though doubt does not cross my mind you will be vigilant, seeking to ensure the page is not wrought, and Ajora will be without his marked path - your words have troubled me in ways I have not thought to be. Ajora is a personal, driving quest for you, is he not?"

[haeresis]

[Ramza shakes his head.] I bear no personal vendetta against the man, nor do I have anything so grand as a quest.

[Part of it is the truth, part of it is Ramza's own humility; he has no delusions to importance any more than he believes in Ajora's plays at saintliness. He has only the path before him, the path of trying to do what is right by others.]

But if Ivalice is imperiled by the horrors I have already seen, I will do aught I can to stop it. Of that, you may rest assured.

[cruentatafoedus]

[Vayne...smiles a little.]
"You have my thanks, though indeed Ivalice herself shall perhaps thank you as your intention is for her benefit and longevity."

"Were one to meet Ajora, would you offer any advice as to how the encounter mayhaps would play out?"

[haeresis]

[To his first remark, Ramza says nothing, though doubt is writ across his expression. He's accustomed to thankless quests, and if the Ivalice of this time doesn't thank him for this, it wouldn't be the first time. Nor Germonique ever looked kindly upon by history for what he intends to do.]

This is the first time I have laid eyes on Ajora myself -- anything I have read or heard of him is from scripture. What manner of encounter would you intend?

[cruentatafoedus]

[It's a curious question, though in some ways it is apt. What would one do upon meeting the priest who seems to play host to the being who has thought to torture Ivalice so by grinding into old wounds. Wounds, of course, he had split wide in an attempt to cut an infection from.]

[His shoulders almost shrug, putting instead a question to the other.]
"What is the man's character, then, as described such in scripture?"

[The idea of Ajora having scriptures about him sounds...unnatural. If this man is truly delusional and suffering from some illness, it is well thought out.]