Suikoden VI

Chapter Six: Part One

Note: I saw a review from svallkille on fanfiction.net asking about a map of Nagarea. My map was also lost but I've been reconstructing it. I've been trying to find a software where I can recreate it on the computer. Once I do I'll try to have it available for you all to see. But so you have a visual of my version of Nagarea, it's a peninsula that shares a border with one country (Falena). Since Nagarea in canon is an isolated country I felt that this made the most sense. There are mountains in the north (the High Peak Mountains) along with a beach (Northern Wharf), tundra in the south (the Red Tundra), rocky wastelands to the southeast (the Rocky Plains), a river that flows into the center of the country (Golden River), and fertile lands in the center of the country (Winter Hill) stretched to the west. The Nagarean-Falenan border is in the northeast but the land was heavily damaged by the Great Earthquake and is impassable by land. The country is roughly the size and shape of both Spain and Portugal combined, but currently the map of the country in-story is incomplete as no topographers have successfully transversed the Red Tundra. More info will be added as Daunte travels.

I have also created a new poll on fanfiction.net for the future wedding in the story. Feel free to leave a comment of your vote and I will  add it to the total.

Poll: Wedding Poll #2: What cuisine style should Yasaka create for the reception?

- Arab

- Vegan

- Vegetarian

- Japanese

- Chinese

- Western

- Mediterranean 

- Fusion

- Dessert

- Haunte

- Spicy

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Chapter Six: Part One

Kader, Southeastern Provinces

The sun was rising soon. Virgil didn't know how long he'd been sitting on the couch, hands clasped over his knees as he watched the front door, but he knew from the lightening of the night that he had maintained that position all night.

I'm not perfect. I know that I'm not perfect. But I have tried my best and my best isn't good enough.

He sighed heavily, the sound sad. He looked himself over, feeling sick to his stomach. He was forty years old and he was an ugly man. He had an ugly face, pale green eyes that people had compared to a cat's eyes, and short black hair which he had recently shaved off, and a diagonal scar across his face that started at the left side of his forehead and ended at his right jaw. A leftover from his life as a soldier for the Holy Army. He had a body built like a brick wall; the clothes he wore barely fit him. It was muscle and not fat but people stopped when they saw him.

I know what I am, and I know how people perceive me. But I am not unfeeling. I thought she knew that.

The doorknob of the front door rattled, and Virgil sat up straight. He frowned as his beautiful wife breezed into the house, not even noticing him as she spun around to lock the front door behind her. Then she turned and saw him, and she cried out in shock. She pressed a hand over her heart and fell back against the door. "Virgil, you startled me! Why are sitting in the dark?"

"Caoimhe," Virgil said. It took a considerable amount of restraint to keep his voice calm. "Where were you?"

Caoimhe didn't flinch from the question. She simply rolled her eyes and gave a toss of her apricot hair. "I was with friends, Virgil. I told you I would be."