UnShaekable (FFXII)

XXXIX) A Pirate's Haven is His Heart

The cool sea breeze pulls at my hair, tugging it back from my face and whipping it around behind me. The salt holds a comforting smell and the rhythmic wash of the water beating upon sand is more than peaceful, even with the bustle of the pirate haven of Balfonheim echoing behind me. The home of Reddas is enough shelter for now, a well-sailed ship docked just off the shore. Even if he is more of a sky-farer, as I am, his mode of transport by ocean is extraordinarily gorgeous.

"They chose to supply the Resistance," Ashe says sharply, staring out at the water beside me. "And yet, they raise not a sword in aid. What city could do this?" Reddas cocks his head to the side, raising one dark eyebrow and scratching at his wild white beard.

"A city of men without countries. Pirate of the sea and of the sky." He steps toward the front of the ship as Ashe steps away from it, scowling at him. "Few are they who would fain lay down their lives for a friend, let alone a king." He leans back against sturdy wood, crossing his arms.

"The Marquis—he is set on war?" Ashe asks. Reddas sighs.

"The time approaches when he must make his position vis-à-vis the Empire clear. When he helped you off the Leviathan, he spited the Judges full score. He cannot sit in idleness and expect to avoid a reckoning." Reddas straightens, glancing off toward the bright blue waves that reflect the oranges and pinks of the seaside sunset. "The Marquis shares my distaste for war, yet if it comes to it, he will show no quarter."

"It's just what Vayne wants," Basch replies, stepping away from the cabin door and striding past Fran and Balthier to stand between Ashe and Vaan. "He lures the Rozzarians and the Resistance to the field, then crushes both with nethicite!"

"I think not," Balthier replies dryly, arms crossed as he leans back against a green table. "Cid has the Stone. We grab it, and smash it to pieces with the Sword of Kings. Vayne will be left holding nary a thing." He stands straight, lifting his chin. "Time is short. We follow Cid. He's heading toward Giruvegan."

"Giruvegan..." Ashe breathes, staring absently at the pirate.

"It is told of in a song of my people," Fran says, crimson eyes scanning over the party. "'On the farthest shores of the river of time, shrouded deep in the roiling Mist, the holy land sleeps: Giruvegan. Who knows the paths? The way to its doors?'" she quotes.

"Then you seek the Jagd Difohr," Reddas cuts in. "Deep within the jungle of Golmore, there is a corner of the Feywood where a Mist-storm surges and seethes."

"Then that's it!" Vaan exclaims. "Let's go!"

"Right," Penelo nods, gasping when Vaan grabs her hand and drags him after him as he runs off. Sighing, Basch follows with Fran on his heels. Balthier raises an eyebrow at the pirate in pink across from us.

"Not coming, Reddas? Forget your precious nethicite already?"

"Cid's words rang hollow to me," Reddas replies calmly. I raise an eyebrow at the man, waiting lazily for the conversation to end so I have an excuse to break off and do as I please for the evening, without having to stare at everyone in silence as they try to pry reassuring words from my lips. I don't have any to give. "I will follow another course."

"Ah, another lead then, is it? You're well informed."

"I could well say the same to you, pirate."

Balthier's eyes narrow on the bearded man, his suspicion clear on his face. I huff, cut off by Vaan bursting through the doors.

"Hurry it up, or Basch will eat everything in the tavern!"

"Ah, Vaan!" Reddas greets. "I've had some of my men check on this Feywood. Best ask what they've found."