To Judge And Be Judged
| To Judge And Be Judged | |
|---|---|
| Date of Cutscene: | 31 March 2013 |
| Location: | Upper Archades |
| Synopsis: | It is a bitter pill to swallow when one must evaluate themselves as keenly as they would others. Judge Magister Zargabaath recovers from the Mist Poisoning he has recently endured and takes the time to look back at past deeds since the time of Ivalice's fall. |
| Cast of Characters: | Zargabaath |
Judge Magister Zargabaath sits at his desk in his oft-forgotten ground-based office within Archades itself. He is unused to being put on mandatory leave with little to do, his armor under maintenance and decontamination, leaving him in standard Archadian clothing. He has already alerted the 12th Fleet of his condition and his intent to return as soon as he is fully cleared to resume his duties, beyond the evil of paperwork.
He is loathe to admit it, but he cannot argue the medical reasons for it. Mist Poisoning (no matter how mild) is not something one takes lightly, and he still coughs once in a while as the last of the dense powder is expelled from his lungs. The newest scars on his face still feel as if sunburnt, aggravated by the exposure to Mist, but such pain is easily ignored. The medicine is working on the last of it and he should be able to return to full duty by the morrow, but until then...
Well, here he is. Grounded.
As he turns his chair 90-degrees from his desk to look out the windows behind him, his aide walks into the office with an armful of papers stacked between his gauntleted hands. “Your Honor, the confirmations for the bonus--” He stops abruptly, realizing that the Judge of Reason has not even acknowledged him. He stands there for a moment, then slowly places the stack of papers down onto the desk. “Your Honor?”
Still Zargabaath ignores him, or at least gives a convincing appearance to that effect. It is a long few minutes before he finally speaks. “Judge Yuves.” The aide stiffens noticeably upon his titled name being invoked. “What do you remember of Ivalice's end?”
The aide lowers his helm as his head bows beneath it. “I remember standing on the Alexander's bridge next to you, sir, watching as land and sky alike disappeared into void. I remember darkness with eyes of solid gold consuming all in their path. I remember nothing after that... until we beheld Archades again, surrounded by reshaped land and foreign formations.”
“Aye. 'Tis the same for me as well.” The Judge of Reason's mouth purses, his eyes narrowing in deep thought. He leans back in his seat, interlacing fingers together over his stomach as he turns his head to look at the aide for the first time. “While our world was destroyed, we could only stand there helplessly and watch.” His gaze lowers, his interwoven hands tightening on his shirt from the memory. “We were angry. Lost. And no sooner did our nation recover their wits were we sent to Traverse Town for the first time.”
Judge Yuves flinches at that. “My conduct was unbecoming of my station, Your Honor. I--”
Zargabaath lifts his hand, requesting silence and receiving it immediately. “We were all compromised, emotionally and mentally. So blind was I in my own seething rage against those Heartless creatures that I too acted no better, far too harsh to those I met and exceeding my authority even beyond that. Even His Honor Bergan would have been a better example than I at the time.”
The aide steps forwards as if to protest, but the Judge of Reason continues on without pause, without giving the Judge a moment to speak. “It took time for all of us, myself included, to work through our pain... but 'tis why, when Manhattan was besieged by the forces of Darkness, I was called back here to answer for my actions and was rightfully punished accordingly.” His gaze slides to the side in his shame. “Even signs and portents were missed in my self-righteous anger.”
“Signs and portents?” The aide does his best to follow, but his voice indicates his confusion. “If I may be so bold, to what do you reference?”
The Judge of Reason shakes his head with a deep frown on his countenance. “I know not... not as of yet. Perhaps in time.” He straightens and turns fully back to his desk, rummaging around on the surface for a paper in particular. “You are still under the effects of the Yellow Card, I see. I fear I cannot remove it myself at this time,” he picks up a sheet and hands it to Judge Yuves, “but His Honor Ghis should be in port. Give him this paper and ask him to remove its effects on my behalf.” He grins faintly, a wan but fatherly smile. “Once that is completed, you may return to the 12th Fleet and resume your post. I should hope that you have learned your lesson.”
The aide takes the paper and bows deeply. “I have, Your Honor. Thank you.”
“Very good. Leave those forms there and I shall deal with them by the end of the day.” He waves a hand almost carelessly. “Dismissed.”
Judge Yuves salutes, makes an about-face, and departs from the room at a quick clip. Once the door closes behind him and the room falls into silence once more, the Judge of Reason releases a long sigh and lightly rubs the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Nothing is as it once was... Not for anyone...”
He clears the center of his desk, reorganizing papers on the edges for later perusal, then places new sheets of parchment in their place. He retrieves a writing utensil and ink, setting them to the side, and sits back in his chair in thought, staring at the blank pages. Recalling the faces and names of those he knows he has personally wronged over the past few months. “Perhaps... 'tis not too late to start anew.”
And with that, he picks up the pen and begins to write.
