UnShaekable (FFXII)

XIX) Jahara

The ground shifts from green grasses to gritty sands marked with countless footprints leading up to a long wooden bridge. Before the bridge stands a coop of chocobos and two of the garif people. Their faces are obscured with bird-like masks, bodies covered in colorful tribal clothing, fitted and ornate. Vaan rushes ahead, skidding to a stop when one of the guards blocks his path.

"Who are you? This is garif land. No place for hume-children to play at games." His accent is thick, his voice deep. Another garif comes up behind us, passing by to approach to guard.

"They are wayfarers. They bring no harm." He comes to stop just in front of me, the massive horns spanning the top of his head obscuring my view. "I saw them cross the Ozmone Plain. They are warriors of great distinction. The fiends of the plains troubled them not at all." 

"You ventured upon the plains alone, War-chief? Again?" Chief, huh? The chief turns to Vaan.

"What business have you with the garif?" Vaan glances nervously toward Ashe, opening his mouth to speak. The chief cuts him off with a wave of his hand. "Let them pass. The responsibility will be mine."

"If it is your wish, War-chief," the guard replies, stepping aside to clear the bridge. "Then you may pass. These days see many humes wandering through our lands."

"I have not made introductions," the chief calls out as we follow him. I scan the village, noticing the sharp peaks of burlap tents and the smoke of dozens of bonfires. "I am Supinelu, War-chief of this village. We garif have been friends to all since long ago; however, lately the hume world is in much turmoil. We must protect our village, and our people." He looks over our entire group of seven. "As War-chief, and protector of our village, I ask you: why have you come to this land?"

"We need to talk to someone about some nethicite," Vaan explains as simply as he can.

"Hmm... I see. So you too have come to ask about the nethicite. You must speak with the elders. Though our masks may make it difficult for you to tell us apart, walk through the village and look with your eyes, listen with your ears. This will show you the way."

With that, he turns on his heels and leaves us on our own. Sighing, I turn to Ashe and cross my arms, waiting. I'm used to following someone's lead, of course, with Dern. However, this near absolute rule... it may just be for someone who's not me. Then again, I don't care about the politics of the world at all. For all I care, Archades could overtake everything. As long as I find my treasure and Vayne Solidor dies, I'll be fairly well off.

"We'll do as he says," Ashe nods, looking around the gentle slopes of the desert camp. "Why don't we split off and learn what we can?"

"Excuse me," I pipe up, Fran watching closely as I step forward, extending an arm dramatically toward the village. "But if I know anything about these types, the man with which we wish to speak is at the very top of the tallest peak, overlooking all of the village."

"How do you know?"

"Seems logical, does it not?" I raise an eyebrow, dropping my arm back to my side. "What've I done to mislead you so far, Dearest?" Ashe frowns, walking past me irritably.

"You associate yourself with Vayne of House Solidor. I would be wise to avoid trust in you."

"You had me lead you here," I point out.

"You stayed in front so I could keep my eye on you. If you were leading us into a trap, I'm sure Fran would let us know."

I scowl at her back, watching the others walk past. Balthier's smug smile nearly makes me drive my spear through his smirking face. Instead, I turn away from the evening sun and trail behind them slowly. The garif watch as we pass, curious but accustomed to visitors. We're stopped yet again at the next bridge.