Interlude: As Foretold (Patreon)

Some things are simply meant to be.

“Good luck.”

The words warmed her heart, even so far from home. She knew, intellectually, that all of St. Ivalice was pulling for her, but it was different to hear it in person. Still, she had a reputation to uphold.

“Luck is for chumps,” Ritz said. “But thank you.”

She could hear the smile in Marche’s voice. “Anytime,” he said. “Now, I’m going to catch some sleep. I’ll be sure to record your match though.”

“Workaholic,” she said, shouldering open the door to the airport hotel. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

“Bye!”

Ritz flipped her phone shut with a fond smile and yawned. Jet lag was a killer. Fortunately, she had a few days to get used to the time zone before her first day of bouts.

The airport hotel was just for one night, she just didn’t feel like moving into the Olympic Village just yet. Probably wasn’t worth it to unpack, she decided. Years of fencing championships around the world made Ritz an old hand at traveling light and sleeping in her clothes.

To say nothing of Ivalice.

Ivalice was the silent shadow that lingered behind every facet of her life. But she refused to let it control her, to dictate her actions. She had grown from her experiences there, yes, but she was more than just those experiences. To let herself be weighed down by those memories would just be a disservice to all of the friends she made them with.

Even if she wondered still if those friends had been real at all.

With the ease of long practice, Ritz pushed that thought aside. The late hour was getting to her, but it was an old problem, well worn ruts in her mind. She just needed to go to sleep, was all.

Ritz shuffled into the room without really looking around. It was just standard hotel fair anyway. Old carpet, small bathroom, single bed, a woman lying on it, a chair that probably—.

Ritz’s head snapped up, her hand flying to the zipper of her saber bag.

“You know, I was surprised when I found out you had white hair in this world,” the woman said

Ritz stopped, taking in the full picture. Against all reason or sense, her mouth formed the word.

“Taylor?”

Taylor smiled. “It’s been a while, Ritz.”

The fencing bag slipped from Ritz’s shoulders, hitting the floor with a thud. The other girl stood up, and Ritz felt her gaze go up and up and when did Taylor get so damn tall? Ritz knew she was, at best, petite at five foot five, but she didn’t remember the difference in their height being so much.

“You’re a lot older than I remember, too,” Taylor continued, running a hand through your hair. “You went and turned eighteen while I was gone. Time sure gets weird…” She muttered the last part, but Ritz still caught it.

She gave a grin, “Wait, does that mean I’m older than you now?”

Taylor smiled. “Well, you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking.”

Ritz pouted, but she still walked closer, hand reaching out half on instinct. “It’s really you though?” she murmured.

Taylor nodded, reaching out, she wove her fingers through Ritz’s. “It’s really me.”

“Haaaa…” Ritz sat down heavily on the bed. She looked, really looked at her old friend.

Taylor smiled, saying nothing at her appraisal. 

She looked…older. That was the first word that came to Ritz’s mind. Even if Ritz had seen five years and Taylor had only gone through two or three…Taylor’s years must have been full of danger and magic, monsters and villains. It was enough to make her almost jealous.

Because beyond that… it had clearly scarred her as well.

The Taylor she remembered from Ivalice, had been strong yet brittle. She was like a skittish animal, quick to lash out when backed into a corner, with a fire that, to Ritz, was more about Taylor’s own insecurities. She’d felt like the older sister even then, no matter how many long suffering looks Taylor and Shara exchanged in response to her antics, because that Taylor was someone she felt the need to look out for.

This Taylor, this woman in front of Ritz now?

She looked worn, down to the solid core that Ritz had seen in the girl so many years ago. Worn smooth by struggles, but no less strong for it. Stronger, maybe, for having all the extraneous bits chipped away.

And she was tall, too. She stood straight and narrow, her body whipcord thin and visibly muscled. She looked like a runner, or a model, maybe.

Taylor had definitely grown into her coltish height in the intervening years, while Ritz had just stayed short.

It was almost enough to make her laugh.

“My eyes are up here, you know,” Taylor chided gently. Ritz felt herself blushing slightly and looked away with a huff.

“Can you blame me?” she said. “Christ but you look different.”

Taylor smirked. “And you look pretty much the same.” Ritz opened her mouth to retort but then Taylor added, “but just more Ritz.” The taller girl shrugged. “It suits you, all of it.”

Ritz looked away again.

It had been years, but talking with Taylor made her feel like she was a child again, kneeling over an old book in her friend’s bedroom. Like she was standing on the precipice of something greater than herself.

“Where…did you go?” Ritz managed after another second of silence. “Everything changed, and you just weren’t there anymore. Like you’d never been in the first place.” She pulled a face. “If Marche hadn’t told me how you destroyed his clan at one of the Crystals I would have…”

Taylor laughed slightly. “Marche…” she said. “God it’s been so long. I was so furious with him, you know? Because he wanted to destroy the world and the last place I wanted to go was back home… Maybe I went a bit too hard on him.” She gave a rueful smile. “My way hardly worked out better.”

“He doesn’t blame you,” Ritz said.

“Really?” Taylor replied. “I wonder…” She shook her head. “But I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore.” Ritz shrugged, watching the other girl’s face intently.

“As to where I went,” Taylor said, giving an enigmatic smile. It looked almost practiced. “Oh, here and there. Near and far. I took the path less traveled by, and it made all the difference.”

Ritz laughed. “Quoting poetry? Don’t make me dock your pay, guildie!” She mock threatened.

“Whatever shall I do,” Taylor drawled.

“Taylor!”

Taylor laughed. “Well, if you want to know where I’ve been so badly…” she reached into her cloak, pulling out an ornate white scroll. “Why don’t I show you.”

Ritz looked at the scroll, eyes widening as she made the connection. “Is that…”

“Well, it wasn’t to start with,” Taylor said. “But it turns out that the Gran Grimorie is a rather straightforward application of magic, once you get the hang of it.”

“Magic…” Ritz breathed, hand reaching out almost of its own volition. “It’s still unethical…” she started.

“Oh absolutely,” Taylor said. “But I’m not using the full effect, consider it a…waiting room, or something like that.”

Ritz’s head snapped up. “You mean you can take it with you.”

“No Ritz,” Taylor said. “I mean that I can take you with me.”

“Where?” Ritz asked, a smile creeping over her face. 

“The multiverse is a big place,” Taylor said. “Functionally limitless.”

“And there’s magic and monsters,” Ritz asked. “Heroes and villains?”

Taylor’s smile turned sad at that. “More than you could possible realize,” she said. “And the bravest souls I’ve ever met as well. It’s beautiful out there Ritz, and deadly and confusing and limitless and so many other things.” She shook her head. “It took a while to find you because of that actually, but once I was able to, well, I couldn’t even think of not at least offering you the chance see it all for yourself.”

Ritz smiled weakly at that. “Why?” she said. “I’m sure you’ve met all sorts of amazing people in your travels, and I’m just some girl from a town in the middle of nowhere that messed around with a magic book.”

Taylor placed a hand on Ritz’s shoulder. “You’re right, I did meet all sorts of amazing people in my travels,” she said. “You were the first.”

Ritz laughed. “Buttering me up now, I see.”

“Is it working?”

“Well…I do have a gold medal to win,” Ritz murmured.

“You should probably do that.”

“Yeah…” After a moment Ritz slumped. “Do I really have to.”

Taylor laughed. “If I’ve learned one thing,” she said. “It’s that you should never leave business undone before you go.” She turned to the window a melancholic expression slipping over her face. Ritz wondered what she saw, off in the distance. “You never know when you’ll be back.”

This time Ritz reached out, grasping her old friends arm as if she would never let go again. “You came back,” she said.

Taylor laughed. “I guess I did.”

“I guess I did.”

“A day after winning her first gold medal on her first ever Olympic tour, Ritz Malheur, vanished from the Olympic Village. According to sources, she missed her return flight, and no other connections were booked. In fact, it looks like no one knows where she got to, which has sparked imaginations of fans around the world, despite investigator saying that there were no signs of foul play.

“The only clue to her whereabouts comes from a message she left with a longtime friend from her hometown of St. Ivalice, but the message itself is just as cryptic as the vanishing act itself. ‘I found her’ Ritz said, just ‘I found her.’

“But who or what Ms. Malheur may have found remains a mystery for now, as does the question of whether or not she’ll be back to defend her title four years from now.

“Channel 9 News reporting. Back to you, Mark!”