Star Ocean: Till the End of Time

Someday My Prince Will Come

Jamarie

Chapter One: 89,000 fol For Your Name?

"Fayt Leingod, for crying out loud, when are you EVER going to grow up?!!"

The blue haired male in question winced at that outburst, before rubbing the back of his neck as he wrecked his troubled brain for a good comeback. Damn, he swore she could detect his presence from a 6km radius. This made it the fourth time this week that she had caught him.

"Well-"

"THAT, was a rhetorical question, Fayt!"

Fayt groaned in aggravation, throwing his arms up and flailing them in a frenzied manner. For the love of God, could he just get one second alone without having to answer to her for once? It wasn't like he loathed her very presence and existence altogether, but more along the lines of him not being able to stand her constant nagging every two seconds and counting.

Yes, he understood that she was only looking out for his well-being since he was the prince and next heir to the Leingod throne, but seriously, even those of royal blood needed a break or two from this lackluster life, didn't they? Besides, he had, of no intention, to access the throne, let alone rule the entire kingdom on his own accord. It was merely seen as an incommodious chore to him, if not a tad bit demanding for an eighteen year old.

Fayt, after his little temper-spat there, finally decided to turn and face the owner of that very high and feminine voice, only to blanch at the sight that greeted him. Alright, strike that. Make that the very angry owner, with the very angry high and feminine voice, with a very, very, VERY angry scowl plastered on her face. If he didn't know her, he'd be running by now, but unfortunately he did.

"Oh, Sophia-"

"Don't you 'Oh, Sophia' me, mister! What the heck do you think you're doing sneaking out like that all the time? You ought to be grateful that I hadn't had the heart to tell her majesty that her only son has been sneaking out to the village every morning since this month!"

Fayt sighed, allowing his gaze to droop to the floor as he took in Sophia's scolding and, yes you guessed it, naggings. Truthfully speaking, he wasn't in the least bit interested in what she had to say regarding his actions, since her words merely entered one of his ears and left out of the other in monotonous rhythmic waves of no importance.

Now, don't get him wrong, Sophia Esteed wasn't exactly what he'd classify as a typical, bothersome specimen of the female population. On the contrary, she was his best and childhood friend since they were mere infants running around in diapers with buckets of drool to spare. So, saying that she knew him best would be an understatement; she practically understood him better than he did himself.

Sophia Esteed, unlike him, wasn't really part of the royal lineage, but since her mother was her majesty's lady in waiting, he guessed that that automatically brought up their status quite a bit. As unfortunate as she was having lost her father as a mere child, Fayt too shared the same experience by losing his own dad to the clutches of an incurable ailment, thus the two had quite a lot in common. Sophia, although two years younger than him, acted older than her age, always looking out for him and having his best interests at heart, even if she had a really weird way of showing it. Fayt trusted her with his life… if only he could say the same for her constant harassing.

"Are you even listening to me, Fayt?!! It's about time you took your rightful place as ruler since your father's death! You can't possibly expect her majesty to be the queen forever! That's why she has you, doesn't she? To fulfill what your father couldn't finish! And apart from that, you're still way behind your studies AND you're going to get married in fourteen days!!"

Well, that certainly got his attention.

"WHAT?!!"

"Do you need me to break it down for you? Fine, I will! Fourteen days! Two weeks! Three hundred and thirty-six hours-"

"No, no, I get that, but marriage?!! Since when and why wasn't I informed of this? As prince, aren't I entitled to such knowledge too?"

Sophia faltered and flushed in embarrassment, hands clasped behind her back and opting to stare fixedly at the marble floor before her like it was the most interesting thing ever since the invention of the spoon.

"Erm… Not exactly. You see, that was supposed to be a… secret. Your mom wanted to keep this from you until the day your brides come down for selection. She was afraid you might, well, self-implode."

"And you agreed to this, how?!!"

"You see! You're mad now! How was your mother wrong in assuming so?"

"Like she was in even agreeing to this godforsaken proposal in the first place!"

With that final statement, Fayt reached out and grabbed the dark green cloak he always wore out as his disguise from the villagers. It was obvious that he was fuming by the way he pulled on the elegant garment, caring not if he ripped the material in his foul mood. He needed to get out of here, fast, if only for a while to help ease his current anxiety.

Sophia gazed at her best friend silently, concern clearly evident in her features. She cleared her throat, calling for him in hesitation. She wished she could help her friend overcome this stage in his life like they had done so for the many in the past, but she knew that this was different. Fayt had only himself to rely on, he had to make the choice, otherwise the choice would eventually make him.

"Fayt…"

"I'm going for a walk down at Peterny. If mother asks, tell her that I'll be back by noon."

And for once, she never stopped him, not even when his dark, cloaked figure disappeared as he made a turn round the corridor. Sophia sighed, deciding she best resume her duties while her blue haired friend was gone. She understood his current need to vent and let him be. After all, if she were in his shoes, she'd be mighty upset too.

-0-0-0-

The village market place was as crowded and vivacious as usual, the town full of commerce due to it being located in the central continent and it being the source of manufactured produces. Apart from all that, it was also the main site where trading were established, both of legal and shady nature, as well as the location of the renown inventor's guild.

Fayt pulled the hood over his head and hugged the dark garment tighter against himself. No matter how many times he'd done this, he couldn't help but feel overly cautious whenever he left the confines of Castle Aquaria. The villagers would have a field day if they ever got wind that their prince had come down to grace them with his "divine" presence. Fortunately for him, no one seemed to recognize him as of yet.

Fayt maneuvered his way deftly through the Saturday morning crowd, careful to not look anyone in the eye or have his hood lifted. His emerald green eyes and blue hair would be a dead give-away, not only to the villagers, but captain of the guards, Albel Nox, as well. Fayt shivered at that last thought.

Albel Nox, also commonly referred to as "Albel the Wicked", was the royal family's most trusted knight and law enforcer in the continent. His title and reputation was renown far and wide, but it wasn't because he upheld all forms of justice and order and all that jazz, oh no. Albel Nox was different compared to the other knights; he seemed to love his job a tad bit too much. Despite being captain of the guards, Albel was a sadist and relished in the pains of his victims, be it offenders or the innocent. He showed no mercy to all his charges, even treating his men lower than dirt and ground he walked upon. If he ever ran into said male, he was positive Albel wouldn't hesitate telling on him, maybe even offer suggestions to his punishment no doubt.

Luckily for him, Albel was currently preoccupied with a string of thieving reports, leaving him way too distracted to resume his usual patrolling around the town. This was the one admirable or disconcerting character of Albel – He never left a mission unfinished, a promise unfulfilled, or a threat not carried out. Sophia had often told him that that man could hold a grudge longer than a female's wrath could sustain, especially if was obsessed over something in particular. Fayt had heard rumors that Albel was still hunting down an event from the past, some sort of unfinished business he had promised to himself. Whatever it was, he couldn't care less. He didn't wish to get mixed up in that twisted man's life story anyway.

Fayt made a turn and soon found himself in the town's main square, greeted by the familiar sight of beautiful, fragrant flora stalls and Peterny's famed café. Deciding to grab a bite to eat before continuing his leisurely stroll, Fayt seated himself at one of the tables and ordered his meal, offering a warm smile and tipping the waitress as he did so. He had always loved the village life more than that of royalty. Things just seemed so peaceful and care-free, and Fayt felt that he could truly kick back and relax here.

Just then, a loud, enraged cry pierced through the air, followed by the crashing of plates and silverware, ultimately disrupting the blithe atmosphere the town often dwelled in. The commotion effectively brought Fayt's brooding to a stand-still, as he turned to face the source of the unsolicited pandemonium. However, he wasn't at all prepared for the sight that greeted him. His eyes widened.

A small boy, who looked to be no older than ten, and certainly no taller than his waist, was currently being pursued by a rather cantankerous baker. Grasped tightly in the boy's hand, was a loaf of bread, and judging by the scene that was ultimately unfolding, Fayt guessed that he had obviously stolen it. However, that was only half the reason he was so particularly interested – That kid had a furry tail and ears for crying out loud; a humanoid.

-0-0-0-

"GET BACK HERE YOU BRAT!!"

"Hah! Not on your life, you moron! You gotta' be faster than that if you wanna catch the great Roger S. Hux-"

Before he could get away with his prize, much less complete his sentence, he was hurled violently off the ground and dangled threateningly in mid-air. The large, burly hand that belonged to the town's baker, clenched itself around the boy's neck painfully, its owner watching in delightful satisfaction as the boy struggled for air.

The boy's free hand immediately flew to his neck, prying at the large hand around his neck in desperation, but to no avail. He was a goner for sure. He cursed inwardly. So much for being on a winning streak thus far… oh well, he kind of figured that he was bound to get caught somehow.

"N-nice……c-catch…." He managed to gasp out, causing the baker to grin smugly from ear to ear.

"Heh, thought you could get away with stealing from my shop, did you? Looks like your luck's just about run out, brat!"

"On the contrary, I believe his luck's just about looking up."

That immediately got their attention, as the two turned to face the source of that young, yet authoritative voice. The boy by the name of Roger, managed, with all the remaining strength he could muster, to crack his eyes open just in time to spy a cloaked figure slowly approaching him, their face obstructed by the shadow of their hood. Judging by the material and design of the garment, he guessed that whoever it was was probably extremely wealthy. Also, by the looks of it, whoever they were appeared to be male.

The baker turned to snarl menacingly at the newcomer.

"What the hell are you going about, wise guy? Do you even know who this brat is? You have no right to-"

"Let the boy go, sir. He did nothing to you apart from taking something which doesn't belong to him. That doesn't give you enough right to kill him on the spot before the eyes of innocent by-standers, after all, that wouldn't be very pleasant now, would it?"

The stranger interrupted evenly, not at all intimidated by his opponent's apparent size and muscular strength. Roger could only gaze at him with pure admiration and incredulousness, not at all believing what his eyes, ears and brain were telling him. He was beyond confused. Why would a complete stranger wish to save him, let alone stand up for him?

"But this brat's been on a thieving streak since he even learned how to walk! His capture would fish up quite a high price from the royal family, especially Sir Albel. He's been after this kid for years!"

"I'm asking you nicely one last time, old man. Let the boy go!"

"What makes you think that I'd do that, boy? Someone has to pay for what he stole!"

"Then would 75,000 fol cover for the damage?"

The baker was without a doubt, left stunned by that statement. The stranger was indeed serious by the way his voice never once faltered during the entire conversation. But the baker was still not convinced.

"I'm sorry boy, but I have to turn the brat in. I'm not the only one who he's stolen from-"

"89,000 fol is my final offer. I'm paying you twice the amount Albel Nox has offered," he interjected sharply, resolute. No matter what, he couldn't let Albel Nox have him. He knew what that man did to his victims, and this poor boy certainly deserved none of that.

To prove his point, he fished out a bundle of fol from his inner cloak pocket, dangling it temptingly before the greedy eyes of the baker. There was a long pause, the baker hesitating for a second before finally relenting, carelessly dropping his victim as he received the money that had been so generously offered to him.

Roger landed rather unceremoniously on the ground, emitting a small "Oof!" as his behind hit the solid cobblestone pavement, hard. He rose carefully and ever so slowly, rubbing his sore behind and taking in precious gulps of air as he did so. It looked as if Lady Destiny, for some strange hidden agenda, wished for him to live on a little longer. He inclined his head to gaze curiously at his savior, but try as he might, he couldn't make out the face behind the shadows of the dark green material. He tried to suppress the feeling of disappointment from that, reminding himself that he didn't even know this guy, so it wouldn't be wise to trust him too much.

"Fine, I'll keep this our little secret, but if I catch that brat in my bakery again, he's dead- Oh, and a pleasure doing business with you, boy."

The figure gave a curt nod.

"As I, you."

When the baker's form fully disappeared in the crowd, the male turned to kneel before the fallen child, extending his hand for the boy to take it. Roger stared at the proffered hand suspiciously, at the hooded figure before him, and then at the hand once more, before deciding to speak up.

"Who are you, and why should I trust a complete stranger? You paid an awful lot of fol for my freedom… why?"

Behind the safety of the hood, Fayt allowed a small smile to grace the expanse of his lips at the boy's words. He withdrew his hand when he figured the boy wasn't going to take it.

"You're a Menodix, right? What are you doing all the way here from the Sanmite Republic? I thought you lot never come down from the highlands…Your ears and tail was a dead give-away by the way."

Roger huffed, crossing his arms over the white, tattered cotton shirt over his chest. His tail unconsciously swished from side to side, and his ears twitched cutely in agitation. Fayt couldn't help but stare in fascination at that. It wasn't everyday that you got to see a Menodix, you know? There were only less than six in Peterny, and none at all in Aquaria, and all of those merely served as domestic housekeepers, so no one really got to see them much.

"Yeah… but that just goes to show you know nothing about me! Are you new to these parts or something? 'Cuz I've never seen you before in my entire life…"

Fayt wasn't a fool. Despite the boy's discourteous, contemptuous manner, he knew the child was curious about his presence. He could tell by the way he kept trying to look up his hood. Fayt chuckled in amusement.

"Is that so? Well, why don't you tell me more about yourself, then? Oh, and for the record, for someone who's just got his butt saved, you have a funny way of showing gratitude…"

"Err…" Roger faltered, his ears effectively dropping in embarrassment and eyes downcast.

He wasn't really the type that would say thank you, especially not to a complete stranger. The guy was just so, so… he just talked as if he knew him so well, like he actually owed the man something. The brunette scrunched up his face in slight displeasure, before relenting, but avoided eye contact throughout.

"Fine… I guess, since you saved me and all…"

"You guess?"

"… Well, that guy was big…"

"Uh, huh."

"Well… you sure have a lot of money…"

"Go on."

"I guess you did a great job…I guess."

"I'm sure I did."

"Eheheh… mighty fine weather we're having!"

"Oh yeah, very nice,"

"…………."

"…………….."

"……Oh, all right! I guess you deserve a 'thank you'."

"…"

"Ok, ok, alright already! Thank you, very, very, very much..."

Roger gave in, throwing his arms up in the air, before letting them fall at his sides in defeat. He inclined his head to the ground, not wishing the stranger to see the large blush staining his cheeks. That seemed to satisfy Fayt enough, as he nodded in approval before rising.

"That's more like it, and your welcome."

Fayt was just about to take his leave, when he felt a light tugging at his cloak. Fayt turned around to face his companion in silent anticipation. Apparently, Roger wasn't quite finished with what he was going to say.

"But seriously though, I guess I really appreciate your kindness. No one ever looked out for me like that before, and- … Well, I guess what I'm trying to say is, there must be someway I could repay you for helping me out. I don't believe in one-sided favors."

Fayt paused, thinking long and hard about the Menodix's words. There was truth in his statement, which showed that the kid was no fool regarding the ways and rules of life.

"Alright, since you put it that way, 89,000 fol for your freedom..."

He kneeled before the boy once more, only this time, disregarding the respect of personal boundaries altogether.

"…And your name."

Roger blushed furiously from head to toe, the close proximity and the older male's request totally catching him off-guard. Normally, people would ask for the exact same sum in return or maybe even something of value, but never this! Roger was now positive that this guy was just plain weird, if not charitable.

"E-erm, it's Roger… Roger S.Huxley, sir. But you can call me Roger, like everyone does."

Fayt nodded, a warm smile spreading across his lips. He had no idea what came over him, but he just had the dying urge to know his name, to get to know him better. Call him crazy, but he was starting to like the kid. After all, this encounter had made his day more interesting, no to mention this Roger boy had certainly taken his mind off the whole marriage thing altogether.

'Hmm… This could be fun,' he thought, rising once more.

Fayt was sure that their paths would cross once more. Peterny wasn't exactly a small town, and from what he gathered, Roger was rather "popular" with the shop owners. Somehow, he just couldn't bring himself to care less on what the boy did for a living. It just served to make things more interesting around these parts. Besides, it kept Albel busy from tormenting the villagers.

"It's a pleasure meeting you, Roger. Well, I best be off. It's getting late and my family would probably get worried if I don't show up for lunch. Oh, which reminds me, enjoy your bread…"

"W-wait!"

"Yes?"

Roger bit his lip, debating with himself on whether he should try his luck on the guy. He had told him his name and had obviously shown him his life, but he wondered if it would be rude for him to ask the same. After all, the guy didn't owe him anything, and if he didn't introduce himself previously, he probably didn't wish for his identity to be revealed. Roger's ears and tails drooped from that sudden realization. Somehow, that thought made him kind of crushed really.

"Erm… It's nothing, really. Thanks for your help, sir!"

And with that, he bounded off, his small form blending in with the crowd before disappearing altogether. Unbeknownst to him, Fayt remained, gazing out silently after him and alarmed by a single thought.

Why on earth did he hope to see that Menodix again?

To be continued...