Chapter 11: Welcome to Doma...
                   ------------------------------

Soft, frothy waves lapped up against the hull of the Wyvern's Bane
as it pulled into port.  Port, actually, was something of an
exaggeration. It was simply a rock-strewn beach, so rough and hard
that the hull of the tiny ship seemed to squeal in agony every time
it advanced a metre up it.  Captain Gavin was on deck, staring out
towards the looming shadow of Doma Castle; his face was locked in a
stern smile.  One empty bottle of gin was lodged firmly in his right
hand, sparkling in the early morning sunlight.

"Hey!  Are we already here?" called out Seb's voice from the lower
decks.

In a flash, Seb bounded up the rickety wooden stairs to the upper
deck, then slid to a halt right beside Gavin.  He was dressed to
impress that day; his tradition gray cloak was absent, leaving his
upper body in a soft gray tunic, a nicely polished suit of
ash-coloured armour, both criscrossed with black straps that held a
pair of sword sheaths in place over his back.

Gavin glanced to the boy, one eyebrow cocked sardonically.  "Where's
your cloak?" he asked.

"Ditched it."

"Why?  It looked damned expensive."

"Ever tried running really, *really* fast with a heavy strip of
cloth strapped to your shoulders?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Don't.  So, is that Doma in the distance?"

Seb stared wide-eyed at the imposing silhouette in the distance.
His eyes fairly glittered with anticipation.  Gavin looked at him,
noticed the warmth in his face, and chuckled in contempt.  He
motioned towards the long gangplank that had been lowered to the
beach.  The lower end was unseen underneath the rising tide.

"There's your exit, lad."

Seb turned and took a few brisk steps to the plank, and had one foot
planted firmly on the long wooden bridge before he turned to Gavin,
a smile brightening his features.

"Thanks for the ride, Cap."

"No problem.  And call me Gavin."

"All right... Gavin.  My name's Alltaire.  Seb Alltaire."

"Well, good luck to ye, Seb.  You've got spirit, lad.  You're a
believer.  And if you believe in something, anything is possible.
Remember that."

Seb smirked knowingly.  "I won't."

The plank rattled as a gray streak blazed down its length, then
pounded into the surf, spraying white foam twenty feet high,
showering Gavin's beaming face with water.  Gavin waved as he
watched the streak fade from sight, arrowing straight towards the
ancient castle...

Gavin turned about, and saw the rest of the crew staring at him,
jaws at floor level.  He chuckled to himself.

"Captain..." one began, voice trembling in synch with his knees.  "I
didn't know that you were a philosopher."

"The next person who suggests that I'm thoughtful or compassionate
will have their legs snapped in half.  Now, pull up that gangplank!
We've got seas to sail and gold to earn!  I want the Bane into a
proper port before the day's out!" bellowed Gavin, sending the crew
of the Bane into a flurry of activity.  Gavin chanced one last look
eastward, eyes tracing the harsh angles of the castle as they were
outlined in grainy golden sunlight.

"Good luck, lad."

***************************

The enthusiasm running through Seb's body was almost uncontrollable.
His normally relaxed pace of running was gone, melted away by the
warmth of the early sun.  He felt it washing all down his face, his
hands, his legs as he streaked forward, leaping over small potholes
and dodging roots almost without a thought.  He raced up the side of
a hill, not caring that there was an easier route.  He sprinted to
the top of the hill, then leaped off, his momentum carrying him far
forward.  The wind blew his hair back, streaming behind him like a
horse's tail.  His feet finally touched ground again moments later,
but it seemed an eternity to him.  He touched down on the soft
grassy plain, the final stretch towards Doma, then skidded to a
stop, leaving a long, muddy groove behind him.  He smiled to
himself.

"Wouldn't do to have them see me run before they need to," he told
himself, then walked purposefully towards Doma, all his muscles
straining in protest; his slow pace was something quite new to them.
But he didn't care.  He linked his hands behind his back, and took
his time, taking one slow footstep at a time.  This was going to be
a day to remember.

***************************

"Hey!  You there!  Halt in the name of the Empire!"

Seb raised an eyebrow as the guards approached him, spears and
crossbows alike at the ready.  There were four of them, all of them
only slightly older than he, and none appeared to have been endowed
much in the mental area.  One jogged towards the new arrival, spear
held in front of him.  Seb merely crossed his arms over his chest,
and waited patiently for the soldiers to arrive.  It only took a
half-minute for the lone soldier to jog up to Seb and plant the
point of his spear only inches from the gray swathed chest.

"What do you want here, civilian?" demanded the soldier, voice
sounding somewhat akin to broken granite.  Seb reached up slightly
and tapped his Imperial badge.

"I'm here to join the Empire."

The guard narrowed his eyes sharply, turning his head slightly away
from Seb to make the effect more sinister.

"And what makes you so sure that the Empire is here?  How are we
supposed to know about such things?"

"Yeah!" chimed in another guard from the gates.  He earned a smack
for his troubles.

"The fact that you told me to stop in the name of the Empire kind of
tipped me off," Seb said calmly.  The soldier scowled, then prodded
his spear closer to Seb's chest, still not convinced.

"Yeah... okay, so we ARE the Empire's soldiers.  You, shorty, don't
look too impressive to me.  Why should we let a wimp like you into
the Imperial Army?"

Seb didn't reply in words.  Instead, he ducked down, lanced out his
leg in a smooth arc, and swept his foot into the kneecaps of the
soldier, throwing him forward.  Seb then rose quickly, snatching the
spear from the soldier's hands, and then pushing the solider
forward, carrying himself forward in the process.  Within seconds,
Seb had his knees planted firmly on the soldier's chest, and the
spearpoint was hovering just above a certain neckplate...

"Here's my new and exciting idea for the day.  Want to hear it?"
asked Seb cheerfully.  The soldier nodded quickly.

"Good.  Now then, how about you escort me inside, and show me the
way to the recruiting office.  And, in return, I won't shish-kebab
you.  How's that sound?"

"That... that sounds great.  Super, even," stammered out the
soldier.  Seb smiled, and leaped off the soldier, dropping the spear
as he went.  As the soldier brought himself to his feet, Seb's arms
resumed their position, crossed smugly over his chest.

"Isn't compromise fun?"


****************************

Seb intensely disliked the Imperial Recruiting Officer.  Ulric
Phansha.  Even the name sounded stupid.  He paced back and forth
before the seated Seb, hands linked behind his back, apparently deep
in thought.  Phansha, Seb guessed wryly, must be trying to remember
his name.  As if reading his mind, Phansha immediately spun around,
spotty green eyes boring holes into Seb's skull.

"So, Mr. Alltaire.  That IS your name, isn't it?" began Phansha.

"Yes.  My name is Seb Alltaire."

"Seb.  That would be short for Sebastian, wouldn't it?"

"Yes it is."

Phansha apparently took that as some sort of victory, as he
immediately began chuckling to himself.  Seb had to listen carefully
to make sure the man wasn't actually gargling or choking on a
chicken bone.

"So, Mister Sebastian Alltaire, why do you want to join the Empire.
Money?  Glory?  Honour?  Or perhaps -" he drew close to Seb, finger
pointing accusingly.  "Perhaps as a SPY!  Yes, you're a traitor!  I
KNEW IT!" Phansha screamed.

"I'm joining up because I think I can be of use to the Empire."  Seb
figured that discussing his philosophical views with Phansha would
be less than useless.  However, Phansha still laughed at the boy.

"You?  Useful?  You must be delusional!  Look at you!  You couldn't
wrestle a Moogle to the floor!  You wouldn't have a hope of passing
the physical exam!  So, pray tell, what use are you to the Empire?"

"I'm fast."

"So am I.  So is everyone, in their own way."

"No, you misunderstand.  I mean REALLY fast."

"Are you willing to put that to the test, Mr. Alltaire?"

"I am."

"Excellent.  I'll enjoy seeing you fail this task, boy."

Seb just grinned to himself.