Someone was playing them all. This is not strange. Ravus knows that the Emperor's advisor, one Ardyn Izunia, was quite cunning. If there was a hand moving pieces it woudl be his.
As for knowing how to disappear, Ravus laughs. Of course he does not know that. He is unarmed, literally in two manners. No, he could not survive out here. But he had already made it quite clear he did not care to.
"Of course I would," he lies, confidently, blatantly.
Basch doesn't believe him. He can't say why, but he feels it deep in his gut. He would need to get word to the Queen, would need to give her time to sort this out, but there were other Guards, and others with a better hand in politics. She trusted him to handle those things that were messy, complex, that she did not need to hear.
He'd already made his decision. He would disappear with Ravus, at least until the other was properly settled. And for that they'd need to get out of this country and the adjacent ones.
"How far can you walk without deep rest?"
Because he's judging when to lose the chocobo, perhaps with false evidence of one or both of their demises attached.
"I am not certain," Ravus admitted. If he had been asked before his injury and capture, he could easily have given a good metric.
But that had been a while ago, and the guards upon him in his captivity had been by no means gentle. Nor his meals full. So he had no good measure of what he was capable of now.
It's a valid answer, and Basch is not frustrated, just recalculating. He does wonder at the effects of prison -- his own imprisonment had not been kind.
Close enough to somewhere they can get supplies then. "We ride hard, and then we will walk." He pushes the bird into a canter, gripping Ravus.
It is a hard ride, for near an hour, before they reach an outpost. He loops it twice, checking they were not followed and that it is safe. Then he swings down, pulls Ravus off like he is little more than a child or a recruit, and fishes red clay from the safe house supplies to smear ont he bird. He tears part of his own uniform to leave with the bird, and slaps it back toward how they came.
He watches, out of the corner of his eye, to see if Ravus tries to run or if he stays put. Either are alright.
The movement of the bird, along with a strong and solid weight behind him, lulls Ravus into an unexpected (and honestly much needed) doze. He doesn't wake until he feels Basch move from behind him, and that is a sudden jerking back to full consciousness. He would likely have fallen off of the bird's back if it were not for Bash immediately hauling him down.
Finding his balance is harder than he imagined after that, his legs not adjusting to solid, immobile ground as quick as it once did. He does manage to balance himself soon enough, and is left staring as Basch acts.
"Do you truly believe clay smeared into feathers will be mistaken for spilled blood?" he asks, incredulous. If they caught the bird surely the game would be up.
He noted, silently, that Ravus settled and dozed as they rode. Perhaps something to use again if he needed to. Basch understood; sometimes being so keyed up, the only way sleep came was physical exhaustion and a lulling activity.
"I believe it can fool at a distance, and a few seconds saved often turns a battle. It will also suggest we went east to the marshes where the clay comes from instead of north here. Besides. That chocobo bites."
"You have done poorly at avoiding that," he says with a shrug.
But then he steps past Basch. He's going to allow this, for now. He steps in and looks around, considering the space he is supposed to, in theory, be safe in.
Perhaps he had. He was starting to think he'd done poorly with this entire mission. But all he could do was adjust and push forward.
"It is," he agrees, closing the door and restoring the wards. "There is old magic here; we will not be found while it is shut, but it is not wise to stay long."
The space is small, one central room with a small stove, a single modest sized bed, a few chairs. There's a bathroom off to one side.
"Take the bed and rest. I will make food and stand watch until we switch."
Old magic? What would that even mean? Ravus sighs and he looks around the space to consider. The bed was... singular. But it was hardly like they were going to share.
"If there is magic warding this place from knowledge, why would there be shifts for watching?"
It's just a logical question from his point of view.
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As for knowing how to disappear, Ravus laughs. Of course he does not know that. He is unarmed, literally in two manners. No, he could not survive out here. But he had already made it quite clear he did not care to.
"Of course I would," he lies, confidently, blatantly.
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He'd already made his decision. He would disappear with Ravus, at least until the other was properly settled. And for that they'd need to get out of this country and the adjacent ones.
"How far can you walk without deep rest?"
Because he's judging when to lose the chocobo, perhaps with false evidence of one or both of their demises attached.
no subject
But that had been a while ago, and the guards upon him in his captivity had been by no means gentle. Nor his meals full. So he had no good measure of what he was capable of now.
no subject
Close enough to somewhere they can get supplies then. "We ride hard, and then we will walk." He pushes the bird into a canter, gripping Ravus.
It is a hard ride, for near an hour, before they reach an outpost. He loops it twice, checking they were not followed and that it is safe. Then he swings down, pulls Ravus off like he is little more than a child or a recruit, and fishes red clay from the safe house supplies to smear ont he bird. He tears part of his own uniform to leave with the bird, and slaps it back toward how they came.
He watches, out of the corner of his eye, to see if Ravus tries to run or if he stays put. Either are alright.
no subject
Finding his balance is harder than he imagined after that, his legs not adjusting to solid, immobile ground as quick as it once did. He does manage to balance himself soon enough, and is left staring as Basch acts.
"Do you truly believe clay smeared into feathers will be mistaken for spilled blood?" he asks, incredulous. If they caught the bird surely the game would be up.
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"I believe it can fool at a distance, and a few seconds saved often turns a battle. It will also suggest we went east to the marshes where the clay comes from instead of north here. Besides. That chocobo bites."
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"As do I," Ravus mumbles. Though he doubts he can do the same sort of damage as the bird.
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He does smile, though, as he works to get the magical guards on the safehouse open, and with it the concealed door.
"Than I shall endeavor to keep my hands safely away from the both of you."
Door revealed, he holds it open. "We rest, and eat."
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But then he steps past Basch. He's going to allow this, for now. He steps in and looks around, considering the space he is supposed to, in theory, be safe in.
"And you believe this place secure?"
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"It is," he agrees, closing the door and restoring the wards. "There is old magic here; we will not be found while it is shut, but it is not wise to stay long."
The space is small, one central room with a small stove, a single modest sized bed, a few chairs. There's a bathroom off to one side.
"Take the bed and rest. I will make food and stand watch until we switch."
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"If there is magic warding this place from knowledge, why would there be shifts for watching?"
It's just a logical question from his point of view.
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Why would he not want the added intelligence?
"Also, solider's habit. Go sleep."
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"You assume I would be capable of rest after such paranoid behavior," Ravus notes.
At least on the chocobo he had been warm and the movement of the bird had been soothing.