Chapter 1: Lessons Forgotten

The Hume strode with purpose through the streets of Southern San d'Oria. His bright red boots clacked upon the stone floor as he quickened his pace, the feather in his hat that marked him as one of the most elite of his craft bobbing furiously with every step. He passed through the gate into Northern San d'Oria and headed quickly towards Chateau d'Oraguille.

As he approached the door he was stopped by two Elvaan guards who seemed as though they were waiting for him.

“Sir, we can't allow you through, strict orders from his majesty”

The Hume stared at the guards in disbelief, the anger he had thus far kept under control slowly bubbling toward the surface.

“What the hell do you mean you can't allow me through?! I'm one of this kingdoms highest ranked generals and I have an issue that I must present to the king!”

“We're very aware of who you are, Hume,” the guard on the right spat back with more than a hint of disdain, “we are on very specific instructions to deny you access”.

The Hume took a step back, dumbfounded by the recent revelation. He had never been denied access to the Chateau, or an audience with the king for that matter, not since being named general anyway. To top it all, the king himself was behind this.

The Hume quickly regained his composure, “I don't give a damn what you've been ordered, this is a matter of national security and I must see the king!”

“I assure you sir, the matter you wish to discuss has already been brought to his majesty's attention”.

This shocked the Hume even more. If the king already knew of the amassing army then why would he deny one of his generals access to the Chateau? ...Unless the king simply didn't want to hear the Hume's opinion.

“What's going on here?” came a voice from behind the Hume. He spun to see a very tall Elvaan standing behind him in the brilliant white armor that only Paladins wore. The Elvaan's hair was the same dazzling white as his armor and stood in stark contrast to his dark skin.

“Vulante, thank Altana, these guards are denying me an audience with the king, you wouldn't happen to have any idea why now would you?” the Hume asked. If anyone knew, it would be Vulante. The Elvaan had been one of the kings most highest ranked generals before the Hume even came to San d'Oria. Since his arrival, Vulante had become the Hume's closest friend.

Vulante averted his gaze and slowly turned towards the giant fountain in the center of the square, he obviously knew something. “Take a walk with me, would you?”

The Hume had no choice, really. If he wanted answers, this was the only way he was going to get them. He caught up with Vulante as he passed the fountain heading back toward Southern San d'Oria.

“OK, it's time for answers Vulante. Those guards said the king already knows about the army, so why is one of his generals being barred from the Chateau?”

Vulante continued to look forward, never making eye contact as they walked. He had been born and raised to be a knight, and as such had been largely uninfluenced by any other race apart from the Elvaan. Because of this, he had an air of arrogance about him which allowed him to remain stoic in almost any circumstances. He walked coolly as if the two of them were simply taking a stroll and discussing which green made the Chocobo run quickest.

“The king doesn't wish to hear your thoughts on the matter.”

It was as the Hume had suspected. The king truly was avoiding his opinion. But why? Why would his majesty take such measures to ensure his thoughts were kept away unless...

“He's decided to march hasn't he? He's going to launch a counter assault?” As the words left his lips he prayed they would turn out to be false. The king could not make such a foolish decision.

With the same air of calmness Vulante replied: “Yes”.

The anger that had bubbled to the surface during his confrontation with the guards suddenly spilled forth in a flood of fury and rage. “How can you be so calm about this?! Do you have any idea what this means for the people of Vana'diel? If we march, we are heading straight into the destruction of what's left of the Crystal Peace!”

For the first time Vulante showed some form of emotion. He seemed almost hurt by the Hume's outburst. “I apologize, I do not mean to seem so detached, it's simply how I was raised. As for marching, I agree with you completely, it is a horrible idea.”

“We have to stop this!” The world seemed to be spinning as the Hume contemplated ways to prevent this horrid miscarriage of justice.

“There is nothing we can do, the king has already decreed it and our army has already started forming in West Ronfaure.”

“This is preposterous!”

“Nobody expects you to march.”

The Hume looked at the Elvaan in disbelief. “Of course I'm not marching, I can't condone such actions either.”

“You realize I have to march. I've no choice in the matter.”

The Hume took a breath as he let the information process. If the king had already put forth the order there was nothing that could be done. “I know. Just so you know I don't blame you, you have to do what you have to do.”

The corner of Vulante's mouth rose slightly in his version of a smile. “I appreciate that.”

“You have to do something for me though,” the Hume began.

Vulante cut him off “Don't worry, if I see her, I'll do all I can to make sure she remains safe.”

The Hume nodded, “Thanks.”

“So what are you going to do?” Vulante asked with as much sympathy as an Elvaan can muster.

“Not sure, keep trying to gain an audience with the king and convince him this is a terrible mistake I suppose.” As the words left his mouth he knew it would be a futile quest.

“Take care of yourself Wolfkin,” Vulante said, “you're going to be a target around here once word of the impending battle gets out.”

The Hume nodded in understanding and looked around the square. All around him were Elvaan, and only Elvaan. Not a single other Hume resided within the entire kingdom. No race, except the Elvaan of course, lived among these walls anymore.

“Can you believe what the world has come to again?” Wolfkin asked his old friend. “Can you believe we're back here?”

“I can not.” Vulante replied. “I wish things had gone differently after the Crystal War. Much differently.”

In the distance a trumpet blared, summoning all Royal Knights to the gates of San d'Oria for dispatch. Wolfkin and Vulante made eye contact. Both of them knew what lay ahead, and neither of them were ready to face it.

“Where is the battle set to take place?” Wolfkin asked.

“Where else?” Vulante answered with sadness in his voice, “Valkurm.”

“Of course,” Wolfkin lowered his head, “that's almost poetic.”

The trumpet sounded again, and Vulante knew it was time to go. He stood as straight as he could and gave Wolfkin a salute. Wolfkin returned the honor, then offered his own Hume tradition by extending his hand, which Vulante dutifully shook.

“Be safe.” Wolfkin said.

“Be happy.” Vulante replied. Since they had known each other they had always parted on these words. The latter of the two seemed nearly impossible under the circumstances.

Wolfkin watched as his friend strode briskly towards the assembling army and knew that after this day, Vana'diel would never be the same. How could it have come to this? How could the world have fallen so far in such short time?

He watched as Vulante turned the corner and vanished from sight heading towards the waiting soldiers. Heading towards war. Heading towards Valkurm to do battle with the army from Bastok.