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“Ritz?” her mother’s voice echoed through the house. “Marche is here.”
Ritz was lying in her bed. She could not help a little sigh. Her head was killing her, though that was to be expected given that her nose was stuffed right now. She still had to push herself up. “Send him up!” she tried to shout back, though she was not fully certain whether she was heard.
This question would not be answered for a bit, given that nobody came to her room. She did not really feel like getting up. Her muscles were aching.
Technically it was not much of a surprise. She had gotten another flu, like a lot of people were in winter. There was not much of a question that she would survive this flu, but man, she wished she could at least sleep.
After a bit there were steps in front of her room, and a moment later followed a knock.
“Yeah,” she croaked. “Come in.”
The door was opened, and in came Marche, balancing a tray with a new jug of what had to be tea on it.
“I wanted to check in on you,” he said and smiled. “I heard you had a cold.”
“It’s a flu,” she replied. “And a pretty nasty one.” Even her voice did not quite sound like her own right now. It was frustrating. He still pushed herself up into a sitting position, looking over to Marche and somehow managing a smile. “I appreciate you checking in.”
“No problem,” he said. He put the jug with the tea onto her night stand, before taking the other empty jug that was already standing there to her desk.
After a moment of hesitation, he sat down on the desk chair and looked at her, clearly not quite knowing what to say.
Well, it was not as if she knew what to say either. Things were strange between them, even now. Three years later.
Outside heavy snow flakes were falling down from the grey sky. It was not quite dark outside yet, but the clouds were so thick, that the city was caught in what seemed to be a permanent twilight. It was strange.
Like every winter, she had to think of their adventure. Of Ivalice. A world that was so very much unlike their own.
Then Marche remembered something. “Oh, I took notes for you in history, biology and math. I do hope those, uh, help you. To keep up, I mean. Your mom said, you will not be attending for the rest of the week.” He produced a small pile of papers from his backpack and handed it to her.
She looked at it. For a boy, he had remarkably clean handwriting. It might even be better than her own. She had no trouble deciphering it all, and in some way the little gesture got her to smile. “Thanks, Marche.”
“No problem.” He had a kind smile. And there was no doubt in Ritz’s mind that he was a kind boy. Still, every so often she could not help but blame him for what he had taken from them.
She was trying to tell herself, that it was for the better. Had she stayed in Ivalice, she would have never gotten to see her mother again. And who knew what other kinds of effects it would have had? After all, for some reason her, Newt, Marche, and Doned had been the only people to remember their old selves. Probably because they had been the ones to read the book. She was not certain, because there was no way to know how magic worked in these regards, right?
She sighed.
Marche could probably guess her thoughts, as he looked at her. “What is it?”
“Have you ever wondered, who Montblanc is?” Ritz asked.
The boy blinked. “Who he is?”
“I mean, it seemed that when we came to Ivalice, it was less that we ended up in a whole different world, but our world changed into Ivalice. And the people inside the world turned into the people from Ivalice and such. Some even still had the same names, right? We found some of them. They did not remember their old lives, but they were kinda the same people.”
Marche was silent at this, but in the end he nodded. “Yes, I do remember that.”
“So, have you ever wondered, who Montblanc is in this world? He probably exists, right? Somewhere in this town or this country there is a guy, who has turned into Montblank, when the world shifted.” She ended up coughing, as her dry and scratchy throat clearly was not in the mood for long talks right now. Quickly she poured some of the tea into a cup, drinking it to make the coughing fit end.
Marche was just sitting there, watching her. A tiny sigh came over his lips, as even Ritz could see the guilt in his expression. “I… I did not think about that, no. I… I mean, even if there is a person like that, I doubt he is quite like Montblanc, you know?”
Ritz poured herself another cup, as the warmth of the herbal tea definitely made the pain in her throat a bit easier to bear. When she had drunken the mixture, she breathed a long breath. “I keep wondering about Shara, you know? I keep wondering, whether I am going to ever meet her again.”
Marche looked over to the window. For a few seconds he just watched those heavy snowflakes fall down. Then he sighed. “Maybe you already know her. And just… You don’t realize it.”
“I think I would realize it,” Ritz muttered. Though maybe he would not quite understand it. She and Shara… They had somehow belonged together. When Ritz had awoken in Ivalice back then, Shara had been there. She had been there pretty much the entire time. It had been like some sort of destiny.
“Maybe,” Marche said. He pursed his lips for a moment, before managing to smile at Ritz. “If I ever meet someone who reminds me of her, I will tell you, alright?”
Ritz nodded. “Yes. That… That would be nice.” Then she smiled as well, before another short coughing fit hit her. “If I ever happen across someone like Montblanc, I will tell you too.”
“Yeah,” Marche replied. “That would be great.”
One of those awkward silences fell between the two of them, before it was Marche, who got up from Ritz’s chair. “I think I am gonna go. I promised my mother to help with dinner. And… Uhm, I guess you want to rest a bit, too, right?”
“Yeah,” Ritz croaked. “Thank you for the notes.”
“Sure,” Marche replied. “I am gonna take notes during the next few days as well. Just in case.”
“Thank you.” She managed to smile, before lying down properly in her bed once more.
He smiled as well, before getting up and leaving the room. Only in the door he stopped once more. “I hope you’ll get well soon.”
“I’ll do my best,” she managed.
Then he was gone, leaving her once more alone with her scratchy throat and her many thoughts.
She was not sure if this really was the good thing. To be back in this world, rather than living out her fantasy. It probably was. And yet, at times she just missed it. She missed the adventure of Ivalice. She missed having those special friends in the clan. And she just missed the many things that had seemed so simple in that world. Magic. Sword fighting. And just the sense of wonder, that this world might have never had.
Maybe she should become a professional adventurer. Maybe that, at the very least, would cure one of the aches in her heart.
