“It’s a disaster!” The frantic bumbling of the personal chefs in the kitchen had reached a fever pitch, the commotion enough even to draw Leriff, the estate’s guardian, out of his chambers to investigate the problem. Apron-clad employees scampered about the kitchen in a mad dash, all the while the head chef sat in the center of the room with his head in his hands, lamenting the doom that had suddenly befallen them all. “It’s over! We’ll never work again!”
“Ahh–” Leriff poked his head into the room, giving the riot a curious glance. “What seems to be the matter, here?” He stepped into the room and crossed his arms, looking about with a rather serious expression. If there was truly a problem in the estate, Saruto would be furious if he did not take care of it sooner rather than later.
The head chef practically fell over himself to scamper to Leriff’s side. The culinary staff had a particular distaste for Saruto’s council. Each of them were so particular–so frustratingly obtuse with their tastes and preferences. All but one. Though Saruto had rather strictly admonished the cooks for purposefully giving Leriff subpar food before, they had learned that they did not even need to waste spices on the man, as he could not taste anything anyway. He was less picky over his meals than a dog, and each of the culinary crew had grown quite happy with the guardian in the time since his arrival.
“Anduion!” The head chef addressed him much like Saruto did–rather how everyone in the household did. “It’s terrible! They ran out! What are we to do?!”
Leriff threw his hands up to stop the man before he was barreled into. “Pause.” When the head chef stopped to take a breath, Leriff nodded. “Explain. And properly, this time, please.”
It took more than a single moment for the man to compose himself, but after having done so, he launched immediately into explaining the predicament. “We are out of dodo!” When that simple explanation did not get across to Leriff what should have been a very obvious category five disaster, the chef continued. “It’s Master Baruto’s nameday, and we are out of dodo. Because of the game shortage this season, we weren’t able to get any!”
The new information was met with a sigh as Leriff shook his head. “Then prepare something else. I am sure you are capable of making a wonderful dish to satisfy Baruto.” Of everyone in the house, it was only Leriff who could get away with not using proper etiquette when discussing the head of the estate.
“You don’t understand! The temper! The tantrums! The absolute horror!” What appeared as if war flashbacks crossed the chef’s face. Whatever Saruto was capable of when going without his favorite food on his nameday, it was enough to scar the culinary staff for life. “He eats dodo every year on this day, and he won’t settle for anything less!”
Another sigh was let free as Leriff lifted his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose, rubbing it softly to ease his frustration. Finally, he threw his hand up again to cut even more blubbering off before the chef could start again. “I will fix this and find you a bird. Just–” He waved his hand dismissively in annoyance, gesturing to the cataclysm that had befallen the kitchen. “Fix this.”
It was a peaceful sigh that escaped Leriff’s lips as he sat on the edge of the lake, making himself comfortable in the damp dirt. He sat the simple tackle box next to him and twisted to the side to collect his fishing pole. It was an important day–important enough to actually get him out of bed at the crack of dawn, at least. With a content expression overtaking his features, he reached back and flicked his arm, casting his line into the lake.
The crash was enough to make Mimiji Miji jump with fright. Something had just been sent toppling to the ground in Leriff’s room, and she crept closer to the slightly ajar door to peek inside to see if the man was alright. And he was not. The room looked as if a cyclone had struck it; furniture was thrown about in a haphazard fashion and clothes lay strewn all over the floor. The wardrobe had been tossed to the ground, one of its doors lying broken on the other side of the room. “Is… is everything alright, Anduion?” Mimiji dared to slip through the cracked door, but did not enter fully, in case she needed to flee at a moment’s notice.
“Where is it?!” Leriff shouted again, in her direction, almost accusingly. He took a threatening step towards the small woman, pointing at her. “Where is my necklace?!”
Mimiji froze as she racked her brain for what the man had meant. “The… the old boat thing?” The glare Leriff gave the woman for disrespecting the heirloom was enough to send a shiver through her spine and her heart skip a beat. She threw her hands up immediately in innocence as she quivered. “I don’t have it! I don’t know!”
“Where?!” Leriff spun around and smashed his fist into the wall, leaving a sizable hole where he had struck. There was a splatter of blood as the skin around his knuckles broke with the force, and he turned that icy blue gaze back to the small woman.
As the commotion had ramped up, it had finally drawn the ire of Saruto to the room. He waddled in with a huff, air whistling from his nostrils as it always did when he was angry. “And what is all this noise about?” Taking one glance around the room wiped the grimace from the lalafel’s face, however, and replaced it with one of surprise. “What is the matter, Anduion?”
Leriff could not answer. It was as if the man was in a state of shock and he could only hang his fist in the wall and breathe heavily as his brain tried to calm itself from its traumatic spiral into panic. Mimiji spoke instead, sliding behind Saruto to hide. “He can’t find his necklace, sir.”
“Oh.” Saruto let out a small sound before brightening up. “Oh!” It was not often that Saruto smiled, but the corners of his mouth tugged slightly into one, as if he were embarrassed, if only slightly, that he had forgotten. He dug into the pocket of his vest and produced the wooden sailboat charm, holding it out for Leriff. “It is right here.”
Before the small man could finish his sentence, Leriff had snatched the charm from his hand, holding it close to his chest in an attempt to calm himself. “Why do you have it..?” His breath began to steady and his composure slowly, but surely, was returning.
“It is horrid, Anduion. Burned and chipped–absolutely disgraceful. I cannot allow you to wear it in public.” Saruto placed his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest to return to his normal state of practiced annoyance. When his guardian opened his mouth to speak up and brought the necklace up to eye level to look at it, Saruto interrupted him immediately. “So I fixed it.”
“You fixed…” Leriff leveled his eyes onto the necklace to see it bright again. The soot had been delicately chipped off and each crack and splinter had been painstakingly restored. Saruto had even gone to the trouble of sourcing the exact type of wood used for the charm, so though the newer parts were brighter in color, they blended seamlessly. It was, for all intents and purposes, an exact perfect recreation of the day he had given it to his daughter. “Oh…”
“Of course. You were never going to be rid of it, but I cannot have you wear something so disheveled in my presence.” Saruto looked around the man to see the destruction still left in the room. He clicked his tongue in thought as he mused over a few ideas before waving a hand dismissively. “Come, Anduion. We have work to do. I will–” He shifted his glance from the man to the room and then back. “I will have someone clean this up before you return.” Without another word, Saruto turned and marched off with perfectly measured steps. And, as always, Leriff simply followed.
He wanted the best deal, but the stock this season seemed to be a touch higher than normal, and the man did not like shopping. The line behind him grew, feet tapping and fingers drumming, as he stood at the front of the stall and hummed in thought over the inspection of each bird. It was important to get a good deal, but it was important to get a good selection of meat, as well. And then more!
Annoyed groans behind Leriff grew as he scratched his beard in further contemplation. He delicately picked at the legs of each of the dead dodo hanging from the top of the wooden stall, further frustrating the hunter behind the colorful creatures. Finally, Leriff brightened up and simply selected the biggest bird there. “This one.”
Saruto sat behind his desk while Leriff stood opposite of him, near the only door out of the small man’s office. The two had locked eyes, brows furrowed, and neither had spoken in some time, each preparing how best to outline their demands. It was Saruto who piped up first, the flare and whistle from his nostrils punctuating his anger. “I want my stones back, Anduion.”
“Where is she, Baruto?” Leriff did not back down, even as many men would find themselves cowed by the intimidating aura the lalafel could emit. “We had a deal. I would gather these soul crystals for you, and you would find my sister.” The man was positively gritting his teeth, seething as he spoke. “You found her, and I have not been told.”
This argument had played out in a repeating circle for the past bell, both sides only repeating their singular statements. “Those crystals are my property, Anduion! I demand them back!”
“We had a deal!” It was only the sense of betrayal that each man felt that caused this endless cycle of back and forth. On the day they had met, years ago, they had made a promise. Leriff would gather soul crystals for Saruto to help him in his quest to put the sultana in a place of absolute power within Ul’dah, and in return Saruto would find Leriff’s sister, and in the end, assist him in ending her life.
“I was promised Leriff Anduion!” Saruto rose in his chair, climbing onto his desk. He leveled an accusing finger, pointing directly at the man opposite of him. “I was told Takeda Hajime had died! I was told that there was nothing left of that man, and now I would have Leriff Anduion!” Saruto swiped at the air, the need to strike something–anything–rising. “And now I am to tell you where she is so that you may throw Leriff Anduion away?! I am not sending what I was promised to die!”
“This is my choice, Baruto! I am not your property!” Leriff stepped out of the door frame, slamming the door shut behind him. The two did not care for onlookers, even if none would come. Over the years, Saruto had done away with any sort of security. They had all become redundant with Leriff around, anyway. And no employee or member of his private council would ever dare to think of coming between the two of them. “I came to this land for one purpose, and I will see it through. Do not think you can stop me.” Leriff locked his jaw and closed the gap between himself and the smaller man, stopping to slam his hands on the desk Saruto stood on. “It is my life to do what I will!”
“You are not my property, you are my fri–gods damn your guilt, Leriff!” Saruto screamed directly into his companion’s face, his own flush red. “You survived! It was not a mistake!”
Saruto and Leriff had worked together for years, and not once had an argument ever arisen. Surely, disagreements occurred, but when Saruto gave an order, Leriff enacted it. And when Leriff took enough issue with an order to complain, Saruto did not push the task upon him, often relenting immediately. They had used each other as tools–a means to accomplish their individual goals without thought to what the other actually was. But now, eye to eye, neither could help but see what they had ignored all this time. A mirror. A person. Each, with their own goals and ideals. Pain and suffering. Ambitions and desperations.
Over time, they could mend the gap they had sundered today. They could work together, accomplishing in repairing the relationship that they were slowly destroying at this very moment. It would not be an easy path to take, but it would end in a better place. One of respect and camaraderie, where each man was equ–
“Get out.” Saruto turned and climbed off the desk, back into his chair. A shaky hand reached out to grab a crystal decanter and a cup to pour its contents into.
The sudden demand caught Leriff off guard, and he could only continue to stare at the lalafel as the small man ignored him. He slowly pushed himself off the desk as he resumed gritting his teeth, nearly hissing his words out. “Where is she, Baruto?”
“Out.” The reply came without even a glance of acknowledgement, Saruto too busy attempting, and failing, to open the decanter.
“I said out!” Saruto screamed once more and slammed the container of wine onto his desk, shattering it in his hand. He let his now bloodied hand fall to his side, his gaze locked firmly to the pool of wine that slowly expanded over the wooden surface.
Outside the room, from her desk, Mimiji could only see the door fly open so fast it nearly rocketed off its hinges. Leriff stormed out of the office and made his way out of the building. Finally feeling safe enough to move, Mimiji slowly rose from her seat. It was not a rare occurrence to see someone leave Saruto’s office in a huff, but she could not once recall it ever being Leriff. She brushed her dress off before entering the room with a sigh, ready to soothe her boss’ obvious temper tantrum as he likely stood on his desk and pitched a fit, stamping his foot and flailing his arms about in the air. Instead, she entered the room and stopped still.
Saruto had not moved. He sat at his desk, staring at nothing, and paid no mind to the glass shards in his hand or the blood that was slowly trickling into a puddle on the floor. He wore only defeat.
The smells wafting through the small house were enough to stir both Yurah and Ai’an from their respective leisurely activities, bringing them both towards the shared kitchen. Ai’an poked her head around the door to the stairwell and sniffed above, canting her head delicately to the side. Yurah, on the other hand, appeared above her twin and shoved the woman’s head out of the way to see what Leriff was cooking. When she saw the stock of fish and grains, and the massive dodo bird the man was preparing, she quickly grew excited. “Is it that day already?”
Leriff looked up from his task and chuckled, nodding. “Yes.” He waved a hand about before returning his attention to the task at hand of preparing the positively abundant feast. “You still have about a bell left. It’ll be ready then.”
Of all her duties, this was one she did not enjoy. Mimiji waddled into the graveyard, plump little legs struggling against the soft ground. She had made a promise that she would come see him at least once a moon, and even if there was no one to hold her to that promise, the woman was reluctant to rescind it.
Moons had passed, and then cycles, but Saruto’s companion had never returned. Saruto had begun to donate his vast wealth anonymously to the lives they had ruined in a bid to make up for what they had done, but his wayward guardian did not come back. Then the donations became public. Then the study of horrible, unnatural magicks, as surely it was not that Leriff did not wish to return, but couldn’t. Saruto filtered through schools and libraries, cults and criminals, all in search of anything that could help. His fortune dwindled away until nothing was left, forcing him to fire all of his employees and removing him from his own council. But even this did not deter his attempts.
Finally, perhaps with the knowledge that his end would be soon, he had called for Mimiji. She had done well enough for herself in his absence, perhaps better, even, and it was mostly out of pity that she answered his summons. He had only one request to make of her. He wanted to be buried in the eastern reaches of Thanalan when he passed, and asked her to arrange it for him. And, if she felt up to it, to perhaps visit him once a moon, as he had grown lonely these past few years.
Mimiji did not like Saruto, and she liked Leriff even less. Saruto could be a tyrant, but beneath you could catch glimpses of the person within. Leriff, however, had been cold. He was not cruel, and he did not threaten anyone as his employer had. When he did speak, it had always been quick and to the point, as if he were reading a script. By all means, he had been a better person than Saruto. But there was never a glimpse of a person within. Never the idea that there was something beneath. He was empty–a ghost. And driving him away had destroyed Saruto.
“Miss Miji.” The Father of the nearby church of Saint Adama Landama lifted a hand in a wave to the woman, using his cane to walk down the muddy path towards her. “Come to see him again?” The smile he offered the woman was gentle, full of warmth, and he pointed towards the grave with his cane. “You know, you should both just come together one day. I’m sure he would love the company of you both.”
“Hello Father. I’m here for him, yes.” Mimiji nodded politely, turning her attention to where he pointed. “I felt it had been maybe too long since last I visite–together?” The sudden realization of what the man had said struck her. “I’m sorry, Father, but what do you mean?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you not know the man?” The priest shook his head in apology, tapping his cane against the earth. “I just assumed, since you both only visit Mister Baruto.” Letting out a single breath in thought, the priest lifted his hand to stroke his beard. “Tall lad. Broad and tough looking. Has a beard and lots of–” He struggled with the word before laughing softly. “Scars. That one. Covered in ‘em. Comes by once a week to visit, at least. He never stays for long, but I’m sure Mister Baruto appreciates it.”
The smile that overtook Mimiji’s features came from a genuine place as she looked at Saruto's grave. Mimiji did not like Saruto, and she liked Leriff even less. But the knowledge that perhaps they had reconciled, even now, was enough. The two were always better together–after all, they were brothers.
“I’m not complaining, but why all this?” Ai’an sat at the table as Leriff continued to bring over plates upon plates of food, far more than they could eat in one sitting. She looked to her sister for an answer, but Yurah simply shrugged. Yurah had grown accustomed to this giant feast once a year, and she no longer cared to question it. She simply sat, a utensil in each fist, and alternated striking the table with the bottom of each, kicking one foot after another in rhythm as she excitedly awaited the food.
Leriff chuckled in response as he placed the centerpiece onto the table, a massive, decorated plate of roasted dodo. “We eat dodo every year on this day, and we won’t settle for anything less.”
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