Chapter 11
Thirteen years later, Garaf and Crawa begin their journey into Eorzea.
Garaf stood in the doorway looking into his room. He had to stoop just ever so slightly to go through the doorway these days, but this was the first time his room had ever seemed small; the first time it had ever seemed anything other than his. In truth, he wasn't as concerned about the room itself, or even the Temple at large, but he was going to miss the heavy workbench that was bolted to the floor and the wall. The core of it was small, still sized for a child, but it had been one of the first things he'd built himself. Over the years he'd added and expanded on it till it took up most of the far wall. Every gouge, burn mark, puncture, nick, and stain had been made by his own hand.
It was now cleared of everything except his final project: a mechanical doll that he had assembled from hand-built pieces over the years. He'd never figured out exactly why he'd built it, but he had a vague memory of a clockwork man sitting in a dim room from his childhood. His own machination was still quite incomplete and missing a number of key components that he just couldn't construct at the Temple. He decided he wasn't going to miss the room - he was actually a bit excited to leave it behind - but he was going to miss the workbench, and his "Arc".
He didn't miss the sound of light footfalls behind him, and turned to see Esslar holding out a note. "Quite fortuitous timing, Garaf. This note has just arrived for you this very moment. Should you like to read it before continuing to gather your things?"
The Duskwight patted a small leather satchel on his belt. "Got everythin' I need right here." Garaf excepted the envelope and looked it over curiously. "Don't think I ever got a note before. Who do you reckon s'from?"
"The author did not see fit to include return information I'm afraid. Crawa has received one as well, and I believe she was inclined to review its contents in the garden, should you wish to join her. I should see to your morning meals so we can at least send you off with full stomachs!" The lalafell patted his own tummy with gusto and then left a grinning Garaf alone in the hallway.
He tore the side off the parchment envelope and then unfolded its contents. The paper itself was of some quality and the penmanship was smooth and clear, unlike his own blocky lettering.
I understand you are soon to depart in the company
of my betrothed. Understand that should harm befall
her in my absence I will hold you personally accountable.
~D
of my betrothed. Understand that should harm befall
her in my absence I will hold you personally accountable.
~D
Garaf rolled his eyes and crumbled the letter. “Yeah, like I gorram needed ta be told thatâ€Â. He tossed the crumpled note across the room into an otherwise empty wastebasket beside the workbench and walked down the corridor. "Gal prolly couldn't find her way 'round tha' bend without someone ta' show 'er first."
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“We'll go and look for them when we're grown ups who can go away without permission and fight bad guys without getting hurt!â€Â
It had been nearly thirteen years, and Crawa's parents had not yet returned. Now, with her elders' leave, she and Garaf were going to go find out why. She smiled to herself as she gathered her things together. No matter what they found at the end of their road, the very fact that they were finally on their way to unraveling the mystery gave her a surprising amount of hope. Even the weather was bright, the sun piercing through the trees and into the garden where she sat.
It was a secluded area of the temple grounds, one of her favourite places. She placed her pack on the ground and sat down, breathing quietly. In the shrubbery, half-hidden, a worn and weathered statuette stood, the figure indiscernible from time and wear. Crawa often wondered if it had once depicted the Matron, or whether it was a remnant from before the temple had been built, an ancient forest god from a time out of mind. Whoever it was, Crawa set herself before it, scattering a few flowers at its base for luck. She asked of it guidance, for Garaf and she to find the true road, for her elders to be safe and hale when she returned. She barely noticed the rustle of footsteps in the grass.
“Sweet heart, there you are.â€Â
Crawa turned as her grandfather emerged from the other side of the garden. “I thought I might find you here. This letter is for you,†he held out an envelope, “It came just now, and one for Garaf, too. In the meantime, I have a few more things to do. I will see you by the Gate when you are ready.â€Â
He hobbled off, leaving her with the letter. She flipped it over a few times before slitting it open with a fingernail and unfolding it to read.
Crawa,
I regret to not be present at your seeing-off; as it is, I
grant you my most sincere wishes for the success of your
mission. I keep you in my memory and look forward
to our reunion upon your undoubtedly successful return.
~D
I regret to not be present at your seeing-off; as it is, I
grant you my most sincere wishes for the success of your
mission. I keep you in my memory and look forward
to our reunion upon your undoubtedly successful return.
~D
Crawa smiled and folded the note back up, tucking it into a side-pocket of her bag. It said little, but it would be a reminder of home. Something to look forward to. Had it already been a year since she had last seen Dasma? She wondered that the time had gone by so quickly. He had come all the way to the Temple to marry her, as had been arranged so many years ago, but Crawa had refused to become his wife while her parents were still missing. All had agreed with her decision and thought it wise, but it was yet another reminder that all was not right with the world.
She looked down at her wrists, at the bracelet given her by her mother on her sixth birthday, the last time she had seen her. It was still as shiny and new as it had been then. She wondered vaguely what this day would have been like had her parents returned, and stayed. Doubtless they would be seeing her off today, as she and Dasma inherited their places. She would be setting off on a different journey, returning to the Temple once a year, to do as they had done – righting injustice, restoring balance where she could, having children so that these small charities might continue. Her parents would have remained at the temple as her grandfather did, living the rest of their lives together in peace. It was a happy fantasy, but Crawa knew very well that her parents were not here, where they should be, and that she and Garaf were departing on a very different journey than the one that had been envisioned for her when she was born. She was not bidding them goodbye from the Gate, she was not married to Dasma, she was not – she admitted - ready. 'But when I find them', she thought, refusing to consider replacing “when†with “ifâ€Â, 'things will be as they should be.'
With that thought full in her mind, she made her way out of the garden for the last time.
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They were all assembled at the Gate by mid-morning. Guthlac and Esslar had changed into their formal attire at some point, though Garaf and Crawa wore clothing more suitable to traveling. Garaf thought that the two older men might burst at any moment into sunshine, songs and rainbows from all the pride and tears welling in their faces. Crawa mostly just had tears.
"This day's been a long time in the coming," Guthlac began, "but part of me wishes it was still a little ways further off. I'm sure you'll do us proud."
"I'll do my best, Grandpa."
"Are you quite sure that you are adequately supplied?" Esslar eyed their meager luggage suspiciously. Garaf carried a number of small items on his belt, and his old self-made bow, but Crawa was the only one who'd thought to bring an actual pack, and it was not exactly overburdened with supplies.
"S'not like we're goin' too far at first. We can pick up more in Gridania iffin' we really need ta. 'Cides, just about anythin' we need, I can make. 'N we got plenty a' coin between tha' two of us so no needs for worries."
Guthlac put on his strong, stubborn-as-an-oak face. "I'm not worried a bit! And when you find your parents you tell them just how much we've missed them.â€Â
Crawa swallowed. “Of course.â€Â
They began to turn away but a cough from Esslar bid them stay. The lalafell donned a guilty expression for the blink of an eye and then spoke his confession. "Wait please, a moment. I confess I should have informed you of this previously, perhaps, but silence was requested of me. As you are no doubt aware, just under fourteen years ago Garaf arrived at our Temple. We still don't know how or why." The lalafell looked up at the Duskwight and Garaf shrugged in response. He himself did not recall anything prior to waking up at the Temple. "What you did not know, because your parents requested we not tell you, was that he carried a... token, of some sort. I am dreadfully sorry that neither Sirrah Guthlac nor myself saw the item ourselves, nor were we informed of its significance, but it was this... artifact that prompted their departure so quickly after its discovery. The last we were aware their destination was Ala Mhigo, but that was long, long ago. Where they may have gone from there, or even if they ever reached that destination, we simply don't know."
Crawa frowned. “That brings more questions than it does answers. Ala Mhigo had been destroyed for over a year when they left, in any case. What in the world would they find there?â€Â
As she spoke Garaf wondered, not for the first time, what circumstances had led him here over a decade previously - and what he might have been carrying that would have concerned Tuilind and Gilhend Nerian. By the time she had finished speaking he had concluded that the answers wouldn't be found standing in the Temple Gate. "Well, least it gives us a place ta start lookin'. We'd better be hittin' tha' road. Ya'll take care of yourselves 'n we'll let ya know iffin' we find somethin'."
Crawa hugged Esslar and Guthlac tightly, lifting the former briefly off his feet. “I'll be back, and I'll bring them with me,†she said as she embraced her grandfather.
“The Matron guard you, sweet heart,†he replied.
“And you, both of you... take care of yourselves!†Crawa called as they crossed the threshold. The Gate swung shut behind them, and the Twelveswood beckoned them forward. It was a start.