How it was that Tidus Bandrovic found himself sitting in the parlor of the Sigata mansion, quite alone, escaped him. Zao, the young Guildsman, had been well on his way to drunk when he suddenly turned a regrettable color and excused himself to his room. Vrekk and Adele had vanished to the back gardens long ago, and though he heard the man leave, his companion neither walked further into the gardens nor returned to the house. And so, Tidus simply sat there, the empty shot-glass beside him. Waiting seemed pointless, so finally he sighed and showed himself out.
He was not confused; no, his knowledge of the motives that drove people told him that Adele was pointedly avoiding him. Actually, he was hurt. There, he had exposed one of his greatest secrets to her and then found that it was one they shared. After Adele let the brilliant caste mark show on her forehead, she had simply stood and left, again, leaving him to leave on his own. Probably she was afraid he would use this knowledge in blackmail, but then, she could pull the same trick on him. There was something else, but he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it yet.
As he rounded the corner, he considered Vrekk, for whom he had the utmost dislike and contempt. Imagine, when the master of the house had told him to drop by socially anytime, giving him such a sneer for doing so. Still, the boy Zao had been friendly, but by and large they were now all, including Adele, very distant. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered Tidus. He was used to a business attitude, but he realized that it annoyed him here because he was the only one with whom they exercised that posture. Everyone else was the Guildsman’s drinking buddy, while only he was the lowly “5%” society spy.
And this questing business! If that was all they all were about, than he didn’t understand why the house didn’t fall. What lord in his right mind would go running around in the wilderness with his bodyguards and fighter-pals while trusting business to handle itself? No one, and then it struck Tidus that was the answer. He wanted the Guildsman to notice him, and that he and his house should treat him as the friend Adele pretended he was. So, he thought drastically, adjusting his rapier, he would quest! Without another thought, he headed out of the city and towards the jungle.
When it was all over, Tidus Bandrovic stood, sweating and bleeding, among the thick choking undergrowth of the Black Lotus Jungle. The beast was lying at his feet, his rapier finally driven through the thing’s skull. It was a lot harder than he had thought, and even with the gift of his power, he’d nearly been killed. He bent down, almost losing consciousness from the agony of doing so, and with a boot-knife, hacked the two largest talons from one of the beast’s front claws. These, he decided, would be his trophies, and wrenching his weapon from the body, proceeded to stumble back towards the city.
Little bugs landed on his bleeding flesh and bit, but he knew they’d do no lasting harm. No, his heightened constitution would see to that. Concentric. The word came to him unbidden and he considered it. It meant things that radiated out from the center; commonly used to describe ripples on water, concentric circles. Circle. The few texts he’d managed to find said that in the First Age, his kind had gathered in cliques called ‘circles’. Tidus wondered if, being one of the two surviving of his race, he should ask Adele if she wanted to revive the practice. Perhaps, they’d even be able to find more of the Sun’s children in remote corners of Creation. In fact, the closer he came to civilization, the better an idea it seemed.
That was, he remembered, if she would even consent to see him. He looked down at the thick, beautiful claws in his hand and imagined them fashioned into a pendant. Once she realized that he was brave like the men of the house, surely she wouldn’t continue to treat him as a shallow social fop and she would see the proud man within him. As he reached the gates of Jade, his mind was made up; Tidus would call on her at House Sigata the next night, ask to speak with her alone, and ask her to join his circle. Concentric, radiating out from the center as far as the eye could see.
The sunset over the city was beautiful, and the air just warm enough to embrace without being oppressive. In spite of this panoramic backdrop, however, Tidus felt anxious and on edge, sensing a doom he couldn’t name. He much rather would have preferred a storm brewing on the dusk horizon; at lease its growing fury and power he could understand and would comfort him with the drumming rhythm of hammering rain. That night he dressed much simply than he had on past excursions to the Sigata mansion, as he wanted to create an air of easy-going familiarity. Also, he put on the talon-pendant he’d had a jeweler fashion that morning.
As he walked through the city, distracted and blinded to the goings-on of the rest of the citizens, sweat pricked his hairline and his mouth was dry. The unpleasant feeling brought back vague impressions of his own childhood, but Tidus forced his mind to consider other things, the monthly revenue of his trade caravans south of Flaerlon, perhaps. Suddenly, the memory he’d been trying diligently to avoid sprung up unexpectedly and played out.
It was the year Tidus Bandrovic was nine, the year his father announced that he would now be trained and educated to be the next lord of the house. He had been fond of playing alone (most of the children his age in Flaerlon were peasant children and refused to play with him) in an old, empty building by the river, and on the day in question, had gone there, packed lunch in tow. Eagerly, he pushed aside the door, but was soundly shocked to hear voices and see a group of children sitting in a circle on the floor. They turned to stare at him in the sudden silence.
“What’re you doing here?” one of them asked.
“I, er, this is my fort,” Tidus stammered, taken aback. All the children laughed.
“Yer fort? Well, it’s our secret clubhouse now, so get out!” It was the largest of the boys who’d spoken, and stood up to emphasize his threat.
“N-no! I don’t wish to leave. I came here to play, a-and so I shall…” he trailed off as they snickered at his proper speech.
“No! No! It’s m’fort!” the girl squealed in mockery, “you’re not in our club, so you have to go!”
“Yeah, get out!”
Tidus’ lunch bundle dropped to the ground. “Well, c-can I be in your club?”
At this, they all laughed hard and long. “Yer a freak! We don’t want no nobles in our club. Right, guys?” said the biggest boy.
“Yeah, no nobles, no freaks! No nobles, no freaks!” they all started chanting.
“I’m not a noble! I’m a merchant,” he argued against their shouting.
The leader, a boy slightly smaller than the one who’d spoken, stood up and calmly shoved him back out the door, which he slammed in Tidus’ face. “Get outta here, we don’t like you and we don’t want you here! Go chase rats, Lord Bandrovic.”
This last comment created new peals of laughter and shouts of, “Yes, Lord Bandrovic, of course, my lord! Oh, no my lord! Whatever you say, my lord!”
Tidus, tears streaming down his face, kicked his lunch bundle angrily into the river and ran home. That evening, he went to his father’s study and unruffled, suggested the house purchase the land on which the abandoned building was built. The reason, he explained before his father even asked, was that the bend in the river was perfect for the site of a new mill, as the family owned the older village mill, which was beginning to fall apart. It would be, he declared, an excellent way to help the village prosper, and also build a bigger mill that rural farmers could be charged to use. Delighted with his son’s seeming humanitarianism and quick business mind, Lord Danton made all the arrangements the very next day. Tidus never played by the river again.
Shaking his head to clear it, the adult, Lord Tidus Bandrovic, realized he was standing in front of House Sigata, on the isle of Jade. Taking a deep breath in groundless hopes of relaxation, he knocked on the door. The servant answered, and he entered.
Hand on the hilt of his great-sword, he looked out across the blasted heath in the predawn light. It was fuzzy, hazy, like the aura of a dream. There was a hand on his shoulder, too.
“I knew you would, Vhotan. In the end, I always knew you would.”
The man seemed to smile, but he wasn’t looking directly at him. There was movement from behind the two, and a third voice, a younger one, spoke.
“They’re coming!”
A rush of motion, a hot wind, and then the flashes were interspersed with great pain. Running, falling, a woman’s scream and the blood-red feathers that rained from the sky.
Tidus awoke with a horrible start and fell to the floor. The Essence of the night’s revelry had nearly left him, but he knew were he to look in the mirror, the sun’s mark would still shine forth from his brow. He trembled. As he stood and got back into bed, the thought came to him that perhaps it had all been a dream. Perhaps he’d gotten drunk at the tavern and sparred at the arena before coming home to collapse. Maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t gone to the Sigata mansion to speak with Adele, found out that he was only the newest member to their little ‘Sun Club’, and ridiculously imposed himself on their private meeting and joined their circle uninvited. Well, it could happen.
He sat in bed, now fully awake. Finally, he decided it was foolish; why shouldn’t he be proud of his heritage? They’d all had souls in the First Age, and his wasn’t any less authentic. And then, the dream, brought on by the rush of Essence probably. Yes, Tidus Bandrovic’s soul had lived in the First Age, and now, it had a name again.