A Vision of Fog【Closed】

[Edda]

Khadai seemed understandably confused by her answer. His expression morphed into a focused perplexity, as if trying to decipher her words instead of wondering when to apply them. He looked at her soon after and attempted to mimic her smile, to disastrous results. Edda bit her lip to keep herself from laughing, his quick frown enough to make it clear that she did not need to warn him to never make that face again. The woman listened to his next questions with a placid expression, before continuing.

 

"Coerthas is a large region, covered in snow and ice. At the center of these highlands lies The Holy See of Ishgard, and beyond it lays Dravania, and the abandoned city of Sharlayan. The people of Ishgard are a wary and isolated peoples - the few settlements you will encounter may seem rather inhospitable. Ishgard has recently rejoined the Eorzean Alliance, though to what ends, I know not."

 

Edda paused. It occurred to her that most of what she had said was likely lost on the Au Ra. If he even knew what Ishgard was, he doubtless knew or cared about its present situation. Still, the opening of its gates was a monumental event, and news of it had assuredly traveled far and wide. If he truly did not know, why then was he so enraptured with the place? This seemed to run far deeper than personal fancy - he was driven, as if on a mission. Could he be a spy? There would be no way of knowing for sure, and it was not something she could simply ask. Perhaps his goal would be made clear in time.

 

"As for threats," she continued. Her voice was quite serious, in the hopes that if her words did not get through to him, her tone would. "Ishgard has been at war with Dravania for a very long time." Edda hesitated, feeling the need to clarify. "Ah, the Dravanians are an intelligent race of dragons and their kin, and mortal enemies of the people of this land. I've no idea if they have changed at all, but you should not speak of dragons outside of how much you delight in killing them, if at all."

 

"It is a land ruled by their beliefs and ancient hierarchy. Take comfort that you are not the only stranger that will be coming to these lands, but it would be wise of you to take care in your actions. The judgement of those in power can be as much your enemy as beasts and weather. I am sure you will be fine, however." Edda nodded to herself. Doubtless he would rush off on his own at some point, and meet one who could better assist him. It would not surprise her if there were more Auri travelling to Coerthas, and it would be good for him to learn from those who were also strangers to Eorzea.

[Nero]

The Au Ra leaned closer towards Edda as he listened intently, soaking in every detail and filing them away. There were many names to keep track of. Coerthas. Ishgard. Dravania. Sharlayan. Dravania was the home of dragons, fighting the inhabitants of Coerthas. Sharlayan was an abandoned settlement. Many of the things described were consistent with the information he'd he'd received; conflict between swords and wings among a sea of mist, with blood upon the slopes of snow and mountains. The Tsenkhai's interpretations were vague--such was the frustrating nature of the Correspondence--but gave enough detail that Kasrjin knew that he was moving in the correct direction.

 

Holy See...the second word he didn't know, but the first word implied strong religious tradition. The land is "ruled by beliefs", so likely they were ruled by tenants and tradition. His frown, which was quickly becoming trademark, reappeared on his face as he noticed something missing from her description: the sea of mist mentioned in the Correspondence. Whether this was a metaphor or a literal location was unknown, and that distinction would be very important. He was compelled to seek the conflict of swords and wings, which was an obvious reference to the war between Ishgard and Dravania. The location of such a thing to fulfill his objective, however, was less specific, and would thus prove more elusive.

 

He debated asking, his face scrunched in contemplation, but in the end decided against it. The nature of Kasrjin's task did not necessarily need to remain secret, but it would be more prudent to approach his undertaking one task at a time. Edda would surely be on hand to answer more of his inquiries should he have need of her. Thus, the first goal was to obtain more information on the conflict of swords and wings, and how exactly it related to what he was seeking.

 

Kasrjin nodded to no one in particular, satisfied. It was a short, terse conversation, but it had proven fruitful in its own way. He leaned back and placed himself back on the boulder he had originally been resting upon when suddenly, a thought struck him. Was this trading of information, technically, a transaction of services? Perhaps such questioning was considered a commodity and he was expected to make an equitable trade. That would explain the curious looks he had been receiving from Edda, yet she had made no mention of it. The Au Ra fidgeted, his thoughts clearly represented in his expression, before speaking again.

 

"I am to answer inquiries you possess," he said flatly, stiffly, the words and sentence structure clearly not familiar to him. It was more of a statement, almost a demand given his rough timbre, and he found himself hoping he'd handled that particular circumstance at least adequately.

[Edda]

It came as a mild shock that Khadai did not press for more information. Her explanation was dubious at best, full of holes and far from a passing grade. She had found Ishgardian history distasteful as a child, a preference her instructor equated to having never seen a dragon, and her grasp on the city-state's current situation tenuous at best. That he did not inquire further seemed an indicator of satisfaction, and for that Edda was glad.

 

He settled back against the boulder, seemingly done for the night, until an uncomfortable look appeared on his face. His eyebrows creased, lips set in a terse frown. "I am to answer inquiries you posses," he said in a flat, almost reluctant sounding voice. Edda could not stop a soft chuckle from escaping her lips, the look on his face and tone of his voice reminding her of her sister when she was being forced to share her belongings. 'On whose authority?' She wanted to ask, his awkward wording leaving room for gentle teasing, but she imagined it would serve only to confuse him.

 

The woman reached up and pushed her hood back before letting her ponytail down, running her fingers through her long hair as a makeshift comb. She would be needing a bath soon. The thought made her wrinkle her nose. A hot bath seemed too great a luxury to be found in Coerthas, even more so in such a dire time. Not impossible to find, surely, but likely at a high cost. She had only grabbed a handful of gil, and war was doubtless sending prices out of control. She would have to send for more when she made it to Ishgard.

 

"Tell me where you are from, then," Edda said, humoring his command-like offer. "Describe it to me," she added. It would not do to let him get away with a single sentence for an explanation, which he seemed to have a penchant for. Waiting for her answer, she reached into her bag behind her and pulled out another vial, distinctly larger and deeper in color than the previous two. She held it between her hands as if warming it, and stared at Khadai expectantly.

[Nero]

Kasrjin pursed his lips, considering the words available at his command to describe it. Was she asking for a description of the geography? His people who lived there? Was she asking about Kaarad-El or the region that surrounded it? Oddly, the Xaela felt that it was inappropriate to ask Edda to be more specific in her questioning. Tsanai had described that sensation as "manners"--verbal courtesies wherein one's conversation partner is indirectly praised or somehow accommodated through the omission or addition of certain phrases and changes in one's tone and inflection. Edda, too, had mentioned the word "manners" as something that was necessary when adhering to the western continent's social conventions.

 

He found the idea to be terribly impractical.

 

Nonetheless, if he was to adjust to a degree adequate enough to carry out the interactions that would bear him the needed information, it would do to have some practise, starting with not requesting that Edda be more direct in her questioning. A roulette spun in Kasrjin's mind, and arbitrarily he decided to describe the geography of the area.

 

"It is a...cold place. Filled with many mountains, atop a glacier." It was truly a titanic effort calling forth the words that would adequately describe it. Kasrjin found that the western continent's language had far too many variables; the possibilities with which one could say a phrase had so many permutations and alterations that could be applied that it was nearly impossible for him to consistently decide what words to use. "There is tundra, with hills and plains of snow. The sun's appearances are short." A crease of his brow. "The northwest sea is cold, with floating ice. It can be very cold." The Xaela tried to think of as many scenes as possible that he could see. "There are southern forests with tall green trees. And dry steppes."

 

Kasrjin exhaled, his ordeal done with. The language was surely something one got used to with practice, but elaborate eloquence was not a concept very much appreciated or utilized by the Khadai, though he frowned again. According to the principles of an equal transaction, he had more questions to answer, which would surely be a challenge.

[Edda]

Edda listened patiently to the man describe his home. It was an honest effort, that much was obvious, but as he finished and sighed, the irritation upon his face was telling. He looked as tired as she felt after hearing his description, and the woman wondered off-hand if she should teach him other words for ‘cold.’ It would explain his apparent comfort in the current weather, and though it was not quite what she had been hoping to hear of, it would do for now. She had no way of knowing exactly where he came from based on his description alone, but if he was not from Eorzea, then he must have come from Othard, if not further.

 

Turning away from the man, Edda rummaged through her satchel to bring out her rain coat. It was not heavy, but enough to protect from the elements. It seemed wasted on the Xaela, who appeared enviably unaffected by the drop in temperature brought about by nightfall. Instead, she stood and draped it over Gullinbursti, who had curled up between the side of her tent and a boulder. His plumage was thick, but for some reason she felt the need to take extra care, as if what little control she had here would slip away from her as she slept. Edda collected the unused vial of warming potion by Khadai and pocketed it, before lifting the lantern, still burning, and placing it closer to the Au Ra.

 

“If you would like to put it out, you may do so,” she said to him, motioning to the lantern. She hesitated for a moment and bit her lip. There was a desire to voice her uncertainty for his comfort, but she felt silly doing so now. He was resourceful, to have made it this far – a little cold would not kill him now. Or so she hoped. She cared little for him on a personal level, having only just encountered him in a rather unpleasant manner, but it was clear he was not a bad person. Far from the heartless murderer she had first taken him for, but that was neither here nor there.

 

“I am going to rest for the night. We have a full sun’s worth of travel tomorrow, so I suggest you do the same. If we make good time, we should reach Dragonhead by nightfall. You may query me as much as you like tomorrow.” She hesitated, before uncorking the green bottle she still held, and drinking all of it. It had a murky, bitter taste, but she was becoming quite used to it, and crawled into her tent thereafter. Edda curled up beneath the heavy blanket. She shivered, still touched by the frigid air, before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

[Nero]

Apparently, Kasrjin's haphazard response--and he was all too aware of its inadequate nature, given his poor command of the western continent's language--was enough to satisfy the criteria of the transaction, for that seemed to satiate Edda's curiosity. He watched her curiously as she pulled out a sheet of material and laid it over the bird that accompanied her before stepping forward to bring the lantern closer to him.

 

“If you would like to put it out, you may do so,” she offered. “I am going to rest for the night. We have a full sun’s worth of travel tomorrow, so I suggest you do the same. If we make good time, we should reach Dragonhead by nightfall. You may query me as much as you like tomorrow.” With that, his guide pulled out another peculiar coloured bottle and drank its contents before settling into her personal shelter, leaving the Xaela to his thoughts. He adjusted his position against the rock and sighed again. Now that he thought of it, this was the first moment since his landing upon the western continent that he'd had a chance to meditate. A small part of him still throbbed with a vague feeling of homesickness and for Tsanai's guidance, but Kasrjin knew of the reasons why he had been selected. He'd originally objected, but once Tsanai had explained her reasoning, the Khadai warrior had agreed quite readily.

 

So much of this land was confusing. While the road was still visible in the forest, he'd eavesdropped on travelers in order to build upon his rough foundations of the language, and while he could understand the definitions of some words, that did not necessarily mean that Kasrjin understood the meaning. It was a land of paradoxes; sometimes it was practical and efficient, other times it was circuitous and filled with needless complexities. Diversity flourished for both good and ill, and while lip service was paid often as such, rarely did the individual lend thoughts to their neighbours.

 

The Xaela inhaled deeply, the familiar sting of the frigid air filling his nostrils before he exhaled again, his breath coming forth as a smoky puff. It did not seem that the temperature would drop much lower, meaning that the climate at this altitude was much milder than what was present around Kaarad-El. His emerald eyes, scintillating in the dark, stared at the indignant ember flickering inside the lantern. Already, he was nearing the region containing his objective. The Correspondence could be cryptic, but it was not intentionally vague so much as it was monumentally difficult to interpret the thoughts of the one who used such an esoteric medium to communicate. A conflict of sword and wings. Blood upon the slopes of snow and mountains. The sea of mist shrouds the timeless testament upon which the eternal march shall be impaled.

 

It was needlessly vague and worded in a loquacious fashion that only an Aljai would have bothered with, but then the original ideas conveyed to the Tsenkhai were downright unintelligible; it was only through their efforts that they managed to make the interpretation comprehensible, much less as specific as it was, and even then the interpretation he'd been given numbered out to something around ninety-seven sentences which was remarkably laconic in comparison with past interpretations. Kasrjin was retrospectively grateful that they managed to pick out useful landmarks to narrow down his search, lest he be lost upon the western continent for years to fulfill his task.

 

The Xaela adjusted his sword again to rest against him and pinched the ember of the lantern to douse it before closing his eyes. It was the first time he had rested in the presence--or near presence, at least--of company in...who knew how long. It was an odd sensation, that feeling of security that was provided by the presence of another. As he drifted off, Kasrjin only hoped that he would not awaken with a start.

 

--

 

He awoke with a start.

 

Kasrjin heard the first sound before opening his eyes; it was too artificial and deliberate to be an animal. The crunching sound of boots stamping onto snow and frozen soil, the aural gradient of dirt collapsing as one's foot made contact with the ground from heel to toe. A shot of adrenaline surged itself through his veins, his eyes widening rapidly and a hand on his sword, though he did not change his posture. A quick glance noted that the sleepy personal settlement that Edda had erected the night before had at some point collapsed, if the bundle of cloth and leather was to be believed. It was likely that she was still slumbering.

 

The Xaela twisted his head to the side; it was still dark. If he had to guess, it was close to dawn, but there was no way of knowing for sure. There was a tingling sensation in his horns as he attempted to focus on the source of the sound. The steps were getting louder, and accompanying them were voices.

 

"...never 'ave told 'em we's were dragon 'unters!"

 

"We ain't been caught yet! And them knights pay a pretty penny fer our kind o' help. Let's just find one o' the little ones an' bring the tail back. The rest of the patrol will take care o' everything else."

 

The first voice was gruff, almost guttural. The second one was of a higher pitch; not quite feminine, but a bit too lilting to be properly masculine. Kasrjin placed both hands on his sword and was now crouching behind the boulder, which was rather difficult given the Au Ra's height. It was unlikely that the pair of voices were a threat, but it was not as if he could risk alerting the pair by awakening Edda to ask for an assessment on the situation. Thus, it would be best to assume a worst case scenario and prepare for hostilities. His grip on the leather-wrapped handle of the greatsword tightened and loosened.

 

"Bloody 'ell, I'm freezin' me jewels off. Can't we 'ave a rest?"

 

"Fine, you big baby. The sun should come up soon anyway, so we can just hide out somewhere before returning to the main group." A pause. "There. That looks like a nice, warm area, doesn't it?

 

An audible shudder and chattering of teeth. "Better 'an out 'ere, definitely."

 

The boot steps were getting louder. Kasrjin's anxiety grew as he was unaware of how to respond. Should he strike first? Should he wait? Should he shout for Edda, or would that provoke an attack? Damn this uncertainty to the hells! The Xaela stood up to his full height and, in one long stride, stepped around the boulder, bringing him face to face with the two intruders.

 

One was a man. He was wide and tall, of a height reaching Kasrjin's chin, with a ruddy complexion and suntanned skin, dressed in chainmail and casually carrying an axe of considerable size. The other...thing...was much shorter, barely reaching up to to the Xaela's shins. It had narrow, elfin features, and would barely qualify as a stepstool in most respectable circumstances.

 

All three froze.

 

They stared.

 

Kasrjin wasn't sure what to say. He would have hardly been surprised if Edda later told him that he should have asked the pair as to the status of their mothers before cutting off their heads.

 

The short man and the gruff man both bounded backwards a step, their weapons coming to hand, though they did not strike immediately. The tall man pointed a meaty finger forward.

 

"Look! One o' 'em dragon peoples!"

 

The Xaela eyed both of them in the same way that a coeurl might eye a pair of jackals looking to steal its kill.

 

"That'll do," said the short man, licking his lips while spinning a pair of knives in elaborate manoeuvres. He flashed a toothy grin before pointing one of the knives at Kasrjin. "We only need one o' the smaller ones--comparatively speaking--anyway for our next moon of pay. He's got a nice tail, so this shouldn't be too ha--"

 

The sentence was interrupted by a pained yelp. In one leaping stride, the Au Ra had bounded forward with a forceful upward swing that promptly sent the small man into a state that was not conducive to intelligible speech, that state being described by most leading experts in the respected field of dismemberment as "missing an arm". He followed up with a wide swing aimed at the gruff man, whose instincts kicked in just in time to deflect the blade with the haft of the axe. The gruff man was clearly taken aback by the savagery with which the greatsword followed his movements, and took a step back for every blow that was sloppily parried. The ring of steel echoed for a short while, though eventually naught was heard but the biting of steel deep into the neck and chest, followed by a gurgle.

 

The short man was still yelling, a frightfully prevalent illness which, in the land of the Xaela, was often cured quite effectively with heavy metal implements forcefully placed into their chest.

 

Thus having prescribed medication and enacted proper medical procedure to cure the short man of his incessant screaming, Kasrjin made another wide swing into the snow to attempt to whip off some of the blood before it froze on the blade.

 

It was certainly not Kasrjin's intention to react violently, but the Xaela felt he made the appropriate judgment call; he, and by extension his companion, were threatened by a pair of armed interlopers who made gestures that implied intentions of inflicting harmful action. Therefore, following principles of self-defence, he made a pre-emptive strike in order to minimize the chances of damage befalling Edda and himself.

 

The adrenaline began to wear away from his body as the Au Ra began to look for something to wipe his sword with. The entire encounter took roughly fifteen seconds, though it felt like five minutes. He could not help but frown at the dismembered bodies. The short man was neatly separated into several pieces that were, remarkably, larger than when they had been put together into a single being, and the tall man had a wide gash extending from the side of his neck into the chest cavity. The blood rapidly began to pool in the dirt.

 

Even so, he could not help but feel rather pleased. Not because of the violence, no; such fighting was woefully inefficient. The Xaela was lacking in enough knowledge about customs and practices to be comfortable with any other option he might have had, especially with the gestures the pair were making towards him. But that did not mean that the brief spurt of exercise would have to go to waste, and Kasrjin felt that his muscles were rather refreshed from exerting themselves so early.

 

Though, this theme of interlopers stumbling upon him and ending up in pieces was hopefully not a common occurrence past this point. The Xaela winced imagining Tsanai's glare of furious indignation.

 

Maybe the snow would hide the blood?

[Edda]

It was a night like any other. She had barely settled underneath the heavy blanket when she fell into a sleep like death. For the six bell duration of the potion, it was nearly impossible to rouse her, even in the event of emergency. Edda did not dream. There was some shame in being so dependent on alchemy to sleep, but the body required rest, and she would not begrudge its necessity.

 

Doubtless aches and pains would plague her when she woke, her body only used to the softest of beds, but it would be only temporary. A vision of a hot bath and warm bed could be seen in her mind’s eye as the potion began to take effect. Surely they would await her in Ishgard within the next two suns. The two had already made it out of the woods, and they would be able to continue the journey in the morning, unhampered and unharmed.

 

-

 

The screaming was not what woke her.

 

Rather, enough time had elapsed that the potion began to wear off, the discomfort of the cold and hard earth cutting the full duration of the medicine short. The tent that had collapsed during the night was not enough to wake her. The proximity of the leather and wool provided extra warmth, her breath shallow enough as to not be hindered by her coverings.

 

Edda began to stir, still drowsy from sleep, her eyelids bearing considerable weight. When she managed to open her eyes, she very suddenly snapped to attention, the total darkness and unexpected enclosure sending her into a panic. The woman tossed and kicked at the blankets and tent around her in a pathetic attempt to break free. Had she been abducted? She was not moving, the ground beneath her unmistakable. What of Khadai? Edda glimpsed a sliver of light at her feet as she struggled, and immediately twisted her body to dive for the opening.

 

The collapsed opening of the tent gave way to a blonde head of hair as she managed to crawl out of her makeshift bonds. She let out a heavy sigh and hung her head in embarrassment. It would be easy to pass it off as waking from a nightmare, and so she scanned the area for Khadai, who had hopefully not witnessed her display. His tall stature was unmistakable, the dark of his features standing out even in the poor light. He stood a ways away, the top half of his body visible behind a small boulder from her current position on the ground.

 

Edda turned away from him, shifting her position to sit on the earth. Her legs had become tangled in the blanket, now bound together as one instead of two, and so the woman began to remove herself from the tent. What Khadai was already doing up and about she did not know, and she wondered if he even slept at all. Perhaps he was scouting the area, or obeying nature’s call. The very thought made her face heat, and so she waited for a few moments to give him time. Gullinbursti was already quite awake, standing to attention and looking toward Khadai. Her raincoat lay dirtied on the ground, and so she stood to retrieve it before throwing it atop the pile of cloth and leather that had once been her tent. She hissed at the soreness in her back and shoulders as she stood, before making her way over to Khadai.

 

Now that she stood at her full height, Edda could plainly see what had the Au Ra and chocobo so fixated. A steady stream of red pooled on the other side of the boulder, and half of an upturned body from which it flowed could be seen. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her skin turning a deathly shade of white. As she stepped closer, the dismembered arm of a lalafell had up and flown towards the road, the supposed body of its owner laying several fulms away in multiple pieces. Her stomach lurched.

 

Tearing her focus away from the scene, Edda looked Khadai in the eye with a steady gaze. He seemed rather pleased with himself, like a cat that dropped two vermin at its owner’s feet. The woman stood on the opposite side of the small boulder, and looked between the Xaela and his prey. An axe and knives lay discarded on the ground, presumably owned by the two corpses. There was a small degree of comfort knowing that Khadai had not slaughtered two unarmed civilians. He seemed unhurt and unfazed, of course, and Edda let out a long sigh. She was unsure what disturbed her more: That he had killed two more people as if it were nothing, or that she was becoming used to seeing such brutality.

 

Khadai now had her full attention. She gave him a severe look, a quiet rage and frustration in her eyes that could hardly be mistaken for anything else. Edda did not know the two that now lay dead, and she did not care to. It was sad that they died in senseless violence, and their deaths could potentially put the two travelers at more risk than simply scaring them off would have. They had the appearance of simple mercenaries. It would have been easy to pay them off. That Khadai would not think of it – or would even understand it – was logical, but it did not make Edda any less upset. If his gut reaction to a perceived threat was violence, there would be little she could do to curb him outside of stopping threats before they became one. Truly, it was a wonder he did not lop off her head the moment he first laid eyes on her.

 

She breathed in deeply, her nostrils flaring. “What happened?” She asked slowly, her voice as grave as her expression. “Explain yourself.”

[Nero]

Kasrjin gestured towards the pile of featureless gore with his sword. A mild snowfall had begun, peppering the red splotches with white. "When I awoke, I perceived the presence of two individuals approaching this location. When they saw me, they withdrew their weapons and voiced intentions of harm, along with threatening gestures with their weapons. If the conflict had begun on their terms, they would have possessed an advantage. I removed the threat pre-emptively." The Xaela admitted to himself that this was a different circumstance. With the masked Wood Wailers, they had attacked him first. These two individuals, however, had been conversing with one another and had been speaking before attacking. Was it possible that their intention was not to attack at all? Even for the western continent, that kind of social practice seemed completely implausible.

 

He pursed his lips to recall details. "They were speaking of hunting dragons and...collecting tails. One of them pointed at my person and referred to me as part of 'dragon people'. If they did not clearly intend provocation, then their withdrawal of their arms and adoption of combat stances would have been unnecessary."

 

He glanced at Edda's face curiously, noting her expression of severe disapproval and twinges of disgust as her eyes avoided flicking towards the carnage behind the Xaela. "I do not intend violence," Kasrjin added, somewhat as an afterthought. He was doubtful that if he had breached another social convention that this would be enough to placate his guide. "It was the most reasonable option at the time." The warrior had begun idly sloshing patterings of soft snow over the blued steel of the greatsword in an attempt to wipe the blood off as he spoke before glancing up at her again briefly. "What was the appropriate course of action in such a situation?"

[Roen]

“If they are not back in two bells, go find them. As eager as those two are for their payment, Blacke and Fenco will find ways to get paid for doing the minimal necessary.”

 

Roen frowned as she recalled Ser Tournes’ orders, her mind drifting as she continued down the southwestern road leading away from the Observatorium. Goldwind’s pace had slowed to a steady walk, both the rider and the bird having slowed somewhat through the night’s falling temperatures. Their group had taken to nightly patrols for the past few suns--a duty no one envied--for the Dravanian Horde did not favor sun or stars when it came to roaming the frozen lands. The paladin tugged her cloak tight as she continued to look about, the approaching dawn finally allowing her to set her lantern aside in favor of what her naked eyes could see. Her dark fur-lined armor--a suit of mail Idristan had helped her obtain from an armorsmith in Ishgard--warded her from the cold better than her old plate-mail had, and for that she was silently grateful to the Elezen. But the night did not do any favors to her stiffened limbs and she shifted in her seat to loosen them up again.

 

It had been many suns since the parcel had arrived at her doorstep. For two suns following the delivery, the paladin did not leave her room, nor had she said a word to anyone at all, isolating herself in the dark dingy quarters of the Forgotten Knight. It was on the third morning that Ser Tournes came knocking on her door, quietly but firmly giving her new orders for her next patrol route. There was no question or admonishment for her absence, only the expectation for her to resume her duties. And so Roen did.

 

The paladin realized that nothing had changed but the depth of her regret. The world still remained as it was, a dark violent place, and every part of her heart still ached. But diving back into her duties served as an adequate anesthetic, and trying to carry them out in the dark of night preoccupied her well enough. But much to her chagrin, Roen also come to realize then that Ser Tournes had often grouped her with Blacke and Fenco, a questionable pair of mercenaries. A part of her wondered if she was there to simply keep the other two honest. It did not go unnoticed whenever they would slink off on their own, only to mysteriously return with their bounty--some vague evidence of a dragon kill, usually in the form of piecemeal body parts.

 

The paladin suspected that the two self-proported “dragon hunters” were skirting their duties whenever possible, but she never cared enough to bring it up to Ser Tournes. Roen did notice the slight tug of displeasure on the Elezen knight’s features whenever the two returned from their assigned duties; she guessed he had already discerned their indolent natures. But Blacke and Fenco were still two willing sword arms, and those were oft in short supply; Ishgard always needed bodies to stand against the Dravanian Horde, so the two mercenaries were allowed to stay and continue to make their gil.

 

As Roen approached the southern borders of Coerthas, the hint of dawn had begun to silhouette the mountain peaks beyond. She could see the vague outline of trees in the far distance, as snow gradually began to give way to frosted dirt and dark greenery. She was nearing the outskirts of the North Shroud. Her eyes narrowed and she let out a long-suffering exhale into the cold air. It would be Blacke and Fenco who would seek out any excuse for milder climes during their border patrol. She half expected them to be sitting around a fire, waiting for the arrival of morning.

 

The scowl that was beginning to etch upon her face quickly turned to alarm, however, when she heard a distant yowl echo through the mountains. She knew Fenco's high pitched voice well enough to recognize the Lalafell's cry. Even as she spurred Goldwind onward into a full sprint, Roen heard that cry come to an abrupt end, and the deathly silence that soon fell warned her against charging in to a likely violent scene.

 

The paladin pulled on her reins and guided her mount behind a large boulder, sliding off her bird as quietly as possible. With one tug, her cloak was tossed over the saddle as she took up her shield and unsheathed her blade, flexing her fingers to awaken her muscles. The woods had become hushed once more, and Roen guessed that either Blacke and Fenco had been subdued or they were already dead.

 

I could run and get help. But she already knew she wouldn't go that route yet.

 

Roen approached an outcropping, sheltered by stony crags on all sides but one. It was a suitable and secure place for a camp, and also where she had heard the yell originate. There was only one possible approach, and no nearby higher ground to take a look at who or what was within. But as she carefully advanced toward it, she began to hear a pair of voices--a deep low rumble that was most certainly male, and a quieter, muted one belonging to a female.

 

Not beasts or monsters. The paladin frowned, but the tight grip on her sword did not loosen. Her eyes slowly narrowed. Perhaps these are the heretics Ser Tournes always spoke of. Or they could even bandits this far south. But now was not the time to be selective about choosing what battles to fight.

 

It did not matter if the enemies were monsters or men. If they were the source of the violence, her course was determined.

 

Her blade drawn and shield raised, Roen rounded the boulder.

[Edda]

The explanation Khadai began to proffer was easily his best yet, but did little to assuage the unease settling in the core of her chest. It was a clinical description of the events, and if what he was saying was to be believed, then he was not at fault. Not entirely. Edda cupped her hands together and covered her mouth with her fingers, breathing heavily through her nostrils. As he spoke, Edda walked around the boulder to better view the scene. She came to stand in between Khadai and the bodies, her back facing him.

 

His story made sense. The weapons of the pair had clearly been drawn at some point, now lying discarded in the gathering snow. She grimaced as she inspected them further. They were dressed for the weather, but not well dressed; that they were simple mercenaries was quite clear, the materiel of their equipment and discernible lack of hygiene as obvious as their current state of decay. They were not Ishgardian natives – that much was clear – but it was not out of the question that they were hired by the city-state for simple work.

 

Edda turned back to the Au Ra to address his question. The look in his eye was not remorseful, but the refreshed appearance he had had prior gave way to confusion, though his nonchalance was ever present. She hesitated as she looked at him, her eyebrows creased. The question was a difficult one to answer, as she herself did now know how she would have responded in such a scenario.

 

“If they truly meant to attack you,” she began slowly. “Then I suppose I can hardly hold you accountable for your actions. Brutish, yes, but if you felt threatened…” Edda trailed off and pouted ever so slightly. She could not be so angry with him for this. Were it more Wailers, or anyone unarmed, she would have been quite distressed, but she relaxed knowing it was two faceless and aggressive mercenaries. Still, if the Wood Wailers – or anyone else – had figured them out and followed them, leaving a pair of similarly mutilated bodies out in the open would keep them on their trail. This would not do.

 

“We will have to hide the bodies,” Edda said matter-of-factly. By ‘we,’ she of course meant Khadai. He would be far more capable and experienced at such a thing, and it was only natural that he clean up his own mess.

 

Edda looked around from where she stood for a viable spot to hide them. The ground was too hard to bury them in, and she doubt the Xaela would agree to use his sword as a spade regardless. The bodies could be dragged behind the boulders so as not to be seen from the road, though that counted on no travelers using the area to camp for quite some time. It would be their best bet, however, and the snow could be used to cover the blood.

 

As she looked past the campsite, Edda alerted to Gullinbursti, who appeared quite focused on something beyond the tall boulders on his side of the outcropping. He was not a large bird, and so he stood remarkably straight, his neck strained in an attempt to peer over it. Edda frowned. He had always been a skittish creature – perhaps he was frightened by the violence from earlier. The hairs stood up on the back of Edda’s neck, and she stood perfectly still.

 

No.

 

He was not looking toward them, rather beyond a point neither of them could see. There was something there. An animal perhaps, or a companion of the two seeking revenge. Gullinbursti let out a shallow wark as his head turned to follow whatever it was beyond the boulder. Edda nearly dove for Khadai, placing her right hand on his upper arm, her left over the hand that held his sword. She was not quite an obstacle, and far from strong enough to keep him still, but perhaps it would be enough to stop him from cutting down whatever may be out there without a second thought. She did not look at him, instead focused on the blind spot around the boulder, and waited.

[Nero]

Hiding the bodies was a reasonable course of action. These two had arrived without supplies or proper clothing and thus must have been a part of a larger group or settlement. If these individuals had meant to engage in arbitrary violent action, then the other members of their group must be of a similar disposition. It would be wise to avoid the main roads for now as well on the off chance that additional belligerents were met in numbers greater than they could handle. Hiding the cadavers within their former campsite seemed best; it was close to the road but still relatively secluded and somewhat hidden from view. Hopefully carrion would reach the bodies quickly, or at the least the cold and the wind would disguise the decay.

 

Kasrjin scratched his head.

 

This felt like a familiar situation.

 

The Xaela began laboriously carrying the bodies and their formerly attached pieces--after having searched them for anything useful--towards the former camp site when suddenly he and Edda's large bird had synchronized in that moment, for at the distressed chirping of the animal Kasrjin simultaneously craned his head towards the outcropping of rock and stared at it as well, his eyes narrowing.

 

Both of them heard the steps interloper before they saw them. It was soft, very soft, but the telltale shlick of a weapon being retrieved from a scabbard accompanied the deliberate crunch of dirt and frost being disturbed by footsteps. Kasrjin dropped what he was carrying and his hand dashed for his sword, ready to swing, when he felt a small but firm hand attempt to grasp him. Edda had clasped a hold over his sword arm, and it was enough to make him pause. His first reaction was confusion but the next instant he understood the unspoken message, for that had been his intention anyway; now that Edda was awake and in a state to possibly negotiate with these new assailants, violence may be unnecessary. Kasrjin relaxed his grip on the hilt of the sword only somewhat, but his stance was still tense and ready to swing.

 

Emerging from around the outcropping was a female, considerably more austere than the pair the Xaela had cut down just minutes ago. She held a sword and shield in tandem with practised ease. The armor she wore was painted a dark sable and lined with fur; its quality was apparent and well made as opposed to the suits of dingy chainmail that had practically snapped under the strain of the Au Ra's swings.

 

Like the first two, the female held a belligerent stance but did not make the effort to strike first. Kasrjin's muscles tensed, but he curbed his instincts enough to keep the sword still. On the western continent, it seemed that many armed confrontations began with weapons but ended in ways other than a fight.

 

"We do not seek trouble," he rumbled at the interloper, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Edda for guidance. A part of him hoped that the new stranger would not notice the trail of body parts--as he had been interrupted in relocating them--or the chilled splashes of blood behind them leading to the camp site.

 

One could only hope.

[Roen]

The blood was everywhere. And bodies, and their severed limbs. Everywhere.

 

Roen rounded the boulder, jaw clenched, hand tight on the hilt of her blade. Her eyes immediately found the most imposing figure within the camp. He stood tall like a man, but unlike any she had ever seen, he had dark ebony horns protruding from the sides of his face, and equally dark scales that lined his jaw and cheek. His eyes seemed unnaturally green, especially when set against the grey and reddish hue of his complexion. His frame struck a towering silhouette, standing fulms above any she had ever known. She spied the metal pauldron upon his shoulder and noted his battle-ready stance, as well as the blood-streaked greatsword in his hand. It was obvious he posed the greatest threat here.

 

But that was not what made her tense up. Having a moment to spare--given that the warrior remained stock still even with his weapon drawn--Roen quickly scanned the scene at large. She could not help but notice the streaks of crimson that stained the icy ground beneath them, and beyond, the gruesome sight of severed body parts, unmistakably belonging to a Lalafell. The paladin then followed the appalling trail to spot another body, one that she recognized as the Highlander sellsword, laying faced down in a pool of dark blood.

 

All the signs of death seemed to originate from the ominous figure standing at the center of the camp. It was then that Roen also noted that some of his features could resemble that of a dragonkin. The word Dravanian flitted across her mind.

 

“We do not seek trouble,” he said, his voice gruff and low, like gravel sliding down a mountain side.

 

Roen‘s nostrils flared, her eyes widening with disbelief. “Is that what you told them before you cut them down?” The paladin glared up at the figure to try and size him up. Her grip on her sword tightened in expectation for an inevitable conflict. “One does not murder people and avoid trouble.”

 

It was then that the paladin noticed the second figure. Perhaps it was because she had been preoccupied with a potential Dravanian killer. Or maybe it was the grisly scene within the camp of mutilated corpses. But Roen had missed the slight figure of a woman standing behind the one wielding the greatsword. But when she did see her... it made the paladin freeze.

 

The woman’s face, with her pale blonde hair and her green eyes, it was unmistakable.

 

“....Edda…?”

[Edda]

That Khadai did not immediately strike down the stranger was a blessing. Her position beside him felt like a nuisance, but it was enough if it managed to stay his hand. The woman that appeared before them was armed and considerably well-dressed compared to her presumed companions. She did not seem ready to strike, rather defensive, and for that she could hardly blame her.

 

“We do not seek trouble,” Khadai growled at the woman, and Edda nearly rolled her eyes. His penchant for trouble and his desire to avoid it seemed ever at odds with each other.

 

“Is that what you told them before you cut them down?” Edda frowned, and narrowed her eyes. That she had somehow been remiss in inspecting the stranger’s face suddenly seemed quite silly. “One does not murder people and avoid trouble.”

 

The voice, the posture, the appearance – they were all rather unmistakable when put together. The woman stood perfectly still, unsure as to whether or not she should approach or flee. Her presence in such a place would be considered outlandish by most, and alongside her unexpected companion, she would not be surprised if Roen failed to recognize her. Understandably, she seemed rather preoccupied by the Au Ra wielding a bloodied sword, but once her eyes came to rest upon her, if only for a brief moment, she knew.

 

“…Edda…?”

 

The look of confusion on her face was palpable. The paladin remained in her defensive position, weapon still drawn, Khadai having the same idea. Edda relaxed her grip on the man and gave him a stern look, before withdrawing herself from him completely. She stepped forward, blonde hair still loose and disheveled, blowing in the quickening wind of the early dawn. She came to stand between the two warriors, and though they could see each other past her frame, they would need to cut through her in order to harm each other.

 

“Roen,” she began softly, a cautious smile blooming on her face. Snow began to collect on her long eyelashes, the precipitation coming down heavier than before. “It has been some time. What are you doing here?” Edda looked around before turning back to Roen with a steady gaze. She clasped her hands in front of her; ever calm, but aware that she may seem just as guilty as the Xaela behind her. White puffs of her breath dissipated in the air as she waited, hoping the two did not do anything rash.

[Roen]

There were too many questions, and the paladin did not know which to ask first.

 

Roen stared at the noblewoman, dumbfounded. Even as she uttered her name, a part of her wondered if this was some kind of a trick of the mind. Perhaps she had dozed off momentarily on Goldwind’s back and this was a figment of her dream. Why else would Edda Eglantine, the daughter to a wealthy Noscean noble house be doing in a camp middle of nowhere surrounded by dismembered bodies? And standing passively next to a possible Dravanian killer, of all things?

 

The possibility of Edda being held hostage by the warrior crossed her mind, but it was quickly dismissed when Roen noted the stern look Edda shot the man. Her hand had also been on his sword arm, as if to cease any actions he would have taken against the paladin. The quick look the two exchanged was not missed; these two unlikely pair were not strangers to each other, this much Roen could discern.

 

But that did not put her mind at ease.

 

“Roen,” Edda stepped forward with a slight smile. “It has been some time. What are you doing here?”

 

The paladin stared incredulously at the woman and her casual inquiry. “I could ask you the same,” she replied warily, her eyes darting between the Midlander and the taller figure behind her. The massive male had not made any moves yet that hinted at aggression, though his bloody sword was still held at ready. Roen was not about to take her attention off of it. She too had not lowered her sword or shield, although she held the latter slightly off to the side when Edda approached.

 

“You are surrounded by bloody corpses.” Roen motioned vaguely towards them with a flick of her head. “I was sent to find them; they work for the same Ishgardian knight that I serve under.” Her gaze turned pointedly back to the scaled warrior, suspicion clearly etched upon her face. “The Dravanian Horde ever encroaches upon Ishgard, so we are hunting dragonkin.”

 

The paladin’s scrutiny lingered on him for a moment longer. A small part of her wanted this to be some mad misunderstanding--especially if these two knew each other, and Edda was somehow a part of whatever had happened here. Roen did not want to imagine the prim and proper noblewoman she had entrusted once upon a time with Gideon North’s fate would have any association with such gruesome violence.

 

Roen narrowed her eyes on the dark swordsman, her tone sharp. “You killed them, did you not?”

[Nero]

Kasrjin relaxed considerably when Edda placed herself between him and the other female. At that point, he recognised that he was not required to act in the capacity of intermediary. Given his lack of knowledge on the continent's customs, it would have likely proven disastrous were he expected to act outside of his typical martial capacity for much longer. The Xaela completely relaxed his grip on his sword, allowing it to fall slack and easily rest in one hand as the tip impacted with the ground. The two females were acquainted with one another and did not seem to possess a hostile relationship, thus fighting would be unnecessary. That was good.

 

As they two women spoke briefly, he was careful to take note of the terms he heard. A knight was a senior warrior of sorts. Ishgard was the city before, fighting the dragon nation of Dravanian which was represented by its Horde. This new woman, given her arms and armor, was associated with Ishgard and was thus of a similar party as the two corpses behind him. She, too, seemed to harbor hostile intention towards Kasrjin's person, possibly for the same reason of being a "dragon person".

 

The Au Ra did little to keep the confusion from his face. If he were related to dragons, why did he not possess wings?

 

He shook his head.

 

The new woman flicked her eyes towards him. "You killed them, did you not?"

 

Kasrjin stared at her for several long seconds, the gears in his head almost audibly grinding by attempting to process the absurdity of the question.

 

He looked down at the smatterings of drying blood on his clothing.

 

He looked at the blood contrasting with the blued sheen of the weapon in his hand.

 

He turned and glanced at the haphazard trail of body parts, as he'd been interrupted when carrying the cadavers into the campsite.

 

He made a brief, ridiculous looking gesture of spinning around looking to see if there were any other individuals present.

 

He looked at the stern woman again.

 

"No," he answered flatly.

 

The western continent had a habit of asking exceptionally silly questions, he found.

 

The Xaela hefted his sword a bit.

 

"They tripped and fell on my blade."

 

His expression was deadpan.

 

Ask a stupid question...

[Roen]

Roen was not amused.

 

“I am certain that will go over very well when you are brought to trial,” she said wryly.

 

The look she gave the scaled warrior was a withering glare. Such indifference even when surrounded by dead bodies. He does not show even a single hint of remorse. The paladin narrowed her eyes.

 

She had come across such a scene before. The unintended jolt of that memory only served to spark a sense of smoldering resentment. The unlikely hope that this was indeed some misunderstanding was threatening to be shattered as soon as it was conceived.

 

The paladin flicked a glance back to Edda with an exasperated sigh. “So your companion is a murderer.” She paused, leaving the consequences of such actions unsaid. She studied Edda’s face, as if to ascertain the Midlander’s motivation in all this. For all the times they had spoken to each other, Roen still could not say she truly knew Edda. And yet she would have never expected to find the Hyur under these circumstances.

 

“What is he?” The paladin gestured toward the man. She did not bother to address him again; she had a better chance of getting straight answers from Edda. “Is he Dravanian? And… why are you here? Why were those men killed?”

 

Her questions came quickly, like arrows loosed one after another. Where once she had looked upon Edda with warmth and cordiality, now there was an underlying feeling of distrust.

 

What else do I not know about her?

[Nero]

"I am capable of answering such queries myself," Kasrjin interrupted. This female was turning out to be rather idiotic. She had asked if the Xaela had killed their two intruders, when a simple cursory--or even momentary--inspection of the scene would have confirmed it. And now she sought further reasoning from Edda, who was not present or possibly even conscious for the conflict, while simultaneously being displeased at Kasrjin's sarcastic confirmation to such a blitheringly obtuse question. He was aware of what kind of trouble a misunderstanding might bring and that Edda, having been absent, was not necessarily equipped to provide such information. A small part of him twinged with equal parts guilt and annoyance again for having stepped outside of his capacity as a warrior.

 

Nonetheless, the intimidating Au Ra stepped slightly forward ahead of Edda such that he was standing in front of the stern female, who practically had to crane her neck to look up at him. His gaze was cold and severe. If this foolish woman wanted answers, she need only have asked the right questions in the first place instead of seeking confirmation on the obvious. Thinking about it irritated Kasrjin far more than it should have.

 

"I am Khadai of the Xaela. I am not of Dravania. Those two," he made a sweeping gesture to the scene of gore behind them, "had intended hostile action upon us and had their weapons withdrawn. I dispatched them before they could inflict harm. Edda is present to guide me into the region known as Coerthas. In return, I am to serve as..." he paused briefly, seeking the right words. "...one who may or may not be called upon to fight for her, at her leisure."

 

With those blunt and straightforward responses, Kasrjin stepped back behind Edda some ways, slipping the greatsword into the embrace of its harness upon his back. He had no intention of fighting, but he had no intention of remaining in the company of such a stolid woman. Before, he might have simply chalked up the more imbecilic questions as simply western culture, but the female's tone was clearly antagonistic towards both himself and to his guide, and thus he found himself expressing a desire to leave expediently. Though Edda's questions were strange in their vagueness, she was at least reasonably straightforward, and while the purpose of her questions escaped the Xaela at times, they did not feel as superfluous as the stern woman's inquiry of "Did you kill those men that you obviously killed for reasons I do not know but am making judgment on anyway".

 

Kasrjin glanced at Edda. "You stated the remainder of our journey would require a full sun. We lose light in this and conditions may worsen," he said austerely. "I will collect the remainder of your personal belongings, Edda." He paused again. "Carefully." The phrase was added almost as an afterthought. "Finish your discussion, then we must leave."

 

With that, the Xaela sauntered off towards the remains of the campsite to both finish masking the bodies and to perform the aforementioned task of preparing for travel.

 

And if that stern female tried to interfere with either of them, he would kill her.

[Edda]

Khadai’s sudden explanation came as quite a surprise. Edda looked up at him and blinked as he came to stand in front of her. Her lips parted in wonder, and she drew her hood up to cover her head in order to busy herself with something. His actions were both mortifying and gratifying at the same time. The Xaela had not spoken so many words in a single breath since she had met him, and she had to wonder if the ordeal tired him. She watched him step away and make back to the camp, before turning to Roen and giving her an exasperated and animated shrug.

 

“And there you have it,” she said. “In the simplest of terms. Pray do not think him dangerous –.“ She stopped herself. Of course he was dangerous. “At least, inasmuch as his race is concerned. The Au Ra dwell in the far reaches of Othard, though they have been trickling to these lands in great number recently. I do not imagine he will be the first you meet. Though his appearance belies it, he is no Dravanian – of that you have my word.”

 

As she spoke of him, Edda looked over her shoulder to watch him wrestle with the sorry ruins of her tent. A smile creased its way onto her face, both from watching him and remembering Roen’s earlier words. ‘So your companion is a murderer.’ It was an obvious statement if anything else – yet it touched her somehow, giving rise to a blunt and far off pain that welled up and settled in her chest. Edda turned back to the paladin with a smile, gentle and slow. Yes, Khadai was a killer, but he was not so different, for so too was she.

 

“I found him wandering the North Shroud,” Edda began in a quieter voice. “That he did not kill me the moment he saw me surprises me even now. I tried to run, but, well…” She motioned to herself, as if that was all that needed to be said. She did not mention the three dead Wailers, as now was neither the time nor the place. It would not do to have Roen attempt to bring him in shackles to Ishgard or Gridania, nor think that she had taken up a new hobby of slaughtering innocents.

 

“He is callous and impulsive, but he is a stranger to these lands, and perhaps knows no other recourse. When I had awoken this morning, the deed had already been done.” She sighed and shook her head. “He had mentioned before that your two companions were hunting for dragon tails, and drew their weapons once seeing his, presumably to harvest it. A regrettable event, but I do believe him. I had fashioned him a cold-blooded killer in my mind, but if that were truly the case, I would be dead.”

 

Edda paused and examined Roen carefully. That she appeared confused would be an understatement. It had been some time since she had seen the paladin, not since she had disappeared after that wedding. The threats that had plagued the woman so disappeared as well, and so Edda assumed that her departure was an intentional one. It seemed her suspicions were true, with the woman now standing in good health before her.

 

“I will be taking him to Camp Dragonhead – beyond that, I know not.” Edda looked at Roen with searching eyes, her distant smile ever present on her face. “What will you do? Will you come with us? Or will you not come with us?”

[Roen]

Roen’s eyes slowly narrowed as she listened to both of them. She had actually heard of these people--these Au Ra--but had never actually seen one of them in person. Heat rose to her cheeks in embarrassment that she had first thought the scaled man to be Dravanian, for apparently the same assumption was made by Blacke and Fenco as well. The thought that she shared anything in common with the two sellswords left a bitter taste in her mouth.

 

But did they deserve this? Her eyes flicked to the spattered array of gore, and then back to Khadai.

 

The paladin glanced past Edda to the collection of limbs and corpses, now having been gathered by the massive warrior. Both Khadai and Edda’s stories--at least when it came to the two mercenaries--were not hard to believe. Had the two sellswords been hunting an innocent race to collect their gil? She had never paid close attention to their offerings whenever they returned with their “proof” of dragon slaying, but if they were eager to attack a man without actually questioning him to ascertain his origins or motives…

 

There were still facts that did not make complete sense, especially from Edda’s recounting of the events. Why did Edda think the Xaela was a cold-blooded killer initially? Were there other episodes of violence before or since their encounter? Was this Khadai prone to cutting to pieces every opponent that posed a threat to the man?

 

Despite the fact that she was wrong about what he was and his intentions, Roen still held onto some measure of suspicion for the man. The brutality in his martial prowess was clear, and despite the fact that he answered her questions forthrightly--albeit not when she asked him but when she asked Edda--there was a severity to his gaze and words that made the paladin suspect that he had no reservations when it came to violence. Whether it was his intrinsic nature or the fact that he was surrounded on all sides by foreigners, Roen suspected that this Khadai would kill and dismember whoever they encountered next if he saw them as a threat.

 

At least Edda believes he is not a cold-blooded killer, she tried to reassure herself. And yet, the two mercenaries met their end quickly enough without any input or intervention from the Hyur. And now the two were planning to head further into Ishgardian lands, where distrust of outsiders lingered like a plague. If she and the mercenaries all mistook the scaled warrior for Dravanian, how many more would do so as the two neared Camp Dragonhead?

 

Roen’s expression darkened as she realized that she could not let them go on their own. She worried about Edda’s fate, traveling with someone who seemed to have penchant for violence. She also wondered how many bodies may be left in the two’s wake should they come across any other eager heretic hunters. Or even both Edda and Khadai ending up as one of the casualties themselves.

 

Where the paladin had no care as to whether this Au Ra lived or died, she wanted to see Edda safe to Camp Dragonhead. But moreover, she had to be certain that Khadai would not pose a danger to everyone he came across. Perhaps in accompanying them, she could determine his true nature. If the Au Ra turned out to be a wanton killer, then at least she would be there to deal with him before he caused any more deaths. But if the Xaela turned out to be as Edda believed him to be... then perhaps the paladin could arrange for a new guide for him. Roen could not imagine that Edda was the best choice for a guide when it came to leading a foreigner through harsh lands filled with unsuspecting dangers. That brought forth another question as to why this arrangement was made in the first place, but the paladin tucked it away for another time.

 

“What will you do?" Edda asked, her face set ever in that polite smile. "Will you come with us? Or will you not come with us?”

 

“I will accompany you both to Camp Dragonhead.” Roen nodded to the woman, even though her words were slowed with a hint of reluctance. “That is where I need to make my report regarding those two.” She gestured vaguely to where the bodies were being buried. She did not elaborate on what the details the reports would entail.

 

“My… apologies,” the paladin called out to the Xaela, although her voice had not softened with the sentiment. She still eyed him warily and her suspicion of him had not abated. “I mistook you for something you were not. But it would behoove you to not answer every threat with immediate violence, especially where you are now headed. Not many have seen or heard of your kind.”

 

Not expecting any similar courtesy to be returned, Roen turned back to Edda without waiting for an answer from the Au Ra. “The road through Coerthas is not safe. You can use another sword by your side if you intend to travel on foot.” There was another pause as the paladin hesitated. There were other reasons why she did not want to part from Edda just yet. There were still questions regarding the welfare of the people she had left behind that a small part of her wanted to inquire of the noblewoman.

 

Roen quickly dismissed those thoughts as well as she turned from the Hyur. “I will retrieve my mount,” was all she muttered as she began to exit the camp.

[Edda]

Edda felt no lack of happiness that Roen agreed to accompany them. No doubt the woman did so begrudgingly, and for that she could hardly be blamed. Still, it was a relief that the woman was safe and sound. Those that worried for her – those that Roen considered friends – would surely be pleased to hear she was well. She knew it was not her place to speak of her so freely, however – if the woman had wanted her status known to those who held her dear, she would have already contacted them herself. It would have to wait.

 

As the paladin turned to retrieve her chocobo, Edda made her way back to the outcropping. Khadai had indeed retrieved her belongings as he said he would, piled neatly at the center of camp. He had not placed them on Gullinbursti, which did not surprise her. The Au Ra treated the bird warily, as if he did not to know what to do with it, and she wondered if the man had not seen one before. She loaded her items onto the saddle and fed the chocobo more krakka root from her satchel.

 

Edda made her way over to Khadai, who had finished disposing of the remains. The snowfall began to stick to the ground, the trails of blood beginning to disappear underneath. She came to stand beside him, and craned her neck to look up towards his face. “She is not entirely wrong, you know,” she began. “As we approach Ishgard, it would be wise of you to keep your head down. The people of Coerthas do not take well to strangers, least of all those with horns and scales.”

 

She hesitated, and continued in a quieter tone. “I know not where it is you seek to go, but Coerthas and the surrounding lands are vast. Will you go the city, Ishgard? Or does your destination lie beyond? You need not answer right now – think on it, if you must.”

 

The woman looked up to the sky and sniffled as quietly as she could. She did not mind the cold, but she was still unaccustomed to it. Khadai’s ultimate goal was still very much a mystery, though it was plain he had a destination in mind, even if he himself did not know where that was. Edda did not trust him in full just yet, and she did not feel she could be at peace until she learned what his purpose was. If so many lives had been lost for any sort of nefarious cause, she would… The thought gave the woman pause.

 

What would she do?

[Nero]

The stern woman's apology went unacknowledged as Kasrjin had begun to pile Edda's belongings together. It was not out of bitterness or anger, but the pragmatic Xaela felt that acknowledging such a statement was as unnecessary as the statement itself. She had expressed apologies--the feeling of regret--presumably for making the assumption that he was Dravanian. She was the second person to do so, and given the horns and the scales, it was an easy assumption to make for one who had never seen an Au Ra. As for "answering every threat with immediate violence", what exactly did she take him for? Edda, too, had looked upon him with apprehension, even fear on their encounter.

 

He frowned as he carefully folded a few clumps of robust cloth. There must have been a misunderstanding, or it was another social principle of the western continent that escaped him. The Xaela was a thinking man, but with the looks being given by those who had encountered him, most must think him--and to a certain extension, other Au Ra--to be some indiscriminate force of nature. The violence was inefficient and meaningless, but necessary given the circumstances. They were situations of self-defence, but then perhaps they were squeamish to such things. It seemed every other facet of this society called to mind another of Tsanai's warnings, and the more he recalled her, the greater his yearning for her guidance was.

 

It seemed that the stern woman realised that waiting for some sentiment of acceptance from him was futile, for she turned away immediately after delivering her statement.

 

It was the first sensible thing she had done thus far. Such were Kasrjin's thoughts.

 

The Au Ra avoided the large bird when he could. Presumably it was similar to a horse, but even if it was, dealing with animals in the way of mounts or beasts of burden was outside of his capacity as a Khadai, and so he did what he could to instead be thorough in collecting Edda's personal effects and placing them in the camp site. His thoughts drifted idly as he then continued his task of collecting the body parts. It would have been better to send an Aljai, perhaps, but then they lacked the requisite skills to survive on their own. Yet, Kasrjin lacked the communication skills of the traders and administrators. Tsanai's justification for the Khadai was sound, but it seemed to the Xaela that he was more likely to be killed by misunderstanding than by the weather or violent foes.

 

By the time his train of thought had come to a halt his task had been finished, and Edda, presumably finished with her discussion, approached him. “She is not entirely wrong, you know,” the female said to him. “As we approach Ishgard, it would be wise of you to keep your head down. The people of Coerthas do not take well to strangers, least of all those with horns and scales.”

 

Edda paused momentarily before speaking again in a hush. “I know not where it is you seek to go, but Coerthas and the surrounding lands are vast. Will you go the city, Ishgard? Or does your destination lie beyond? You need not answer right now – think on it, if you must.”

 

The Xaela stood up and crossed his arms. He was aware, at least now, of his appearance to those of Ishgard. Their conflict of swords and wings brought them to bear against dragons, and his scales and horns would certainly cause issue with those who had not yet familiarized themselves with his kind. A passive approach would be best...though if someone attacked them again, Kasrjin was not certain of the appropriate response. Clearly defending himself brought about nothing but disapproval, leading him to believe that such actions were somehow deplorable. Perhaps the self-preservation instinct was different here.

 

As for her second query, he glanced at her and gathered his thoughts. His objective would require more information, first, to narrow down the search area. Certain items would be needed. A map, a compass, supplies...Kasrjin frowned. The concept of currency was not foreign to him, but like so many other things, dealing with such matters was meant for an Aljai. He was familiar with the idea of bartering--and its massive inefficiency as a system of resource distribution--and thus he would require suitable quantities of items to exchange.

 

After remaining silent for several minutes, he spoke. "Ishgard. I require information, and I wish to..." Kasrjin gestured to the campsite where the corpses were hidden. "...learn to avoid such situations in the future." It was also possible that this larger settlement of Ishgard possessed those who could interpret the Correspondence, which would make it all that much more important to reach. If they were capable of deciphering the last few pieces, it could potentially narrow his search greatly.

 

The Xaela glanced at the female curiously. "Upon arrival, you shall have fulfilled your agreement with me. In what capacity will I engage in combat on your behalf?" He had already asked again, but it was worth another try. "In what manner will you contact me should my abilities be unnecessary in the near future?"

 

Kasrjin frowned again, upon making another realisation. "Will we be accompanied by the stern woman?"

[Edda]

Edda took a step away from the man as he questioned her. The proximity at which she stood placed a great deal of strain on her neck to look up at him. He stood taller than most Elezen, or at least he seemed to, perhaps his imposing appearance making him seem larger than he was. In hindsight, telling him to ‘keep his head down’ seemed a silly thing to say – whether or not he pretended to be demure, he would still stick out like a sore thumb.

 

“The stern woman,” Edda began, a small smile flitting about her face at the epithet. “You mean Roen. Yes, she will be. She will guide us to Camp Dragonhead, for she knows the way far better than I.” Khadai did not seem too pleased, if his frown was anything to go by.

 

“Pray do not worry about our agreement,” she continued. “In fact, I would not prepare for any type of combat in the near future – I still have not discerned whether or not I will have need of your services. I imagine you will have need of a new guide once we arrive in Ishgard, or perhaps even Roen herself will show you the city. If I have need of you in the future, I have my own methods of seeking you out, and I will appear before you. Yet, if you depart Eorzea for good in order to return home, then you may consider our arrangement complete.”

 

Edda looked up at with him with a reserved smile. His confusion was understandable; no doubt he wanted the trade over and done with so he could be rid of her and continue his quest unhindered. She could not blame him, but it was difficult to attempt to appease him when his culture was so vastly different from her own. “For now, it would be best if you considered yourself to owing me a debt in the future.” She paused. “No, not even a debt – a favor. That will have to do for now.”

 

They had spent enough time talking, and the warrior seemed prepared to move on. Edda looked over her shoulder for Roen, who would doubtless be ready as well. The paladin stood some distance away, already at the road, waiting with her chocobo.

 

“We should be going,” she said softly, and turned to make towards the road.

 

The three continued on the road in silence for a ways, Roen walking slightly ahead of the two. Neither of the women rode their mounts. It was a considerably faster journey by chocobo, even at a mild trot, but it did not seem fair to make the Xaela match the speed of the birds, nor tire them out by riding them at a walking speed. To say it was an awkward walk would be an understatement. There was a palpable tension leaking off the two, and Edda silently lamented her position – trapped between one whose moral compass was as rigid as steel, and another who might as well not even have one.

 

“As for your earlier statement,” Edda began, in order to both address his concern and do away with the uncomfortable silence. “There is little advice I can give you to avoid confrontation, outside of being as peaceable as you can be.” She turned to face the Au Ra, who was doing his best to match her pace on her right side. Her tone was normal, and well within earshot of Roen.

 

“You – nor anyone else – can control the actions and perceptions of others. If, for whatever reason, someone brandishes their weapons at you, their intent is already made clear. It is up to you how you respond, however. You are already intimidating, and your weapon is as well. Threatening them with death or bodily harm may scare away the weaker ones. It would not always work, but you lose nothing in trying. Beyond that, could you not fight without killing? Perhaps you could disable them, strike with the flat of your blade, or disarm them...”

 

She frowned and brought a loose fist up to her mouth, tapping her thumb against her lips in thought. This was hardly her area of expertise. Edda sighed and looked up at the man with a bashful smile. “Forgive me. I am no soldier, so it is difficult for me to proffer advice on such things.”

[Nero]

He frowned and glanced at her quizzically. Though she claimed she was not a soldier, Edda nonetheless gave valuable insight, even if she did not know it. Kasrjin remained silent for a long while to gather his thoughts before speaking.

 

"To fight is to take action with intent to kill," the Xaela rumbled, speaking slowly and deliberately. He was careful in his word choice so as to avoid ambiguity. "There is no violence without the intention of fatal harm. What purpose is there in combat that fails to slay an opponent?" Kasrjin's frown deepened, attempting to process the implications of Edda's advice. The more he thought about it, the more it confused him, and the more it confused him, the greater his need to vocalise it.

 

"If the circumstance has deteriorated to the point of engaging in battle, then to fight and not kill is futile, for violence means all previous discourse has failed. At that point, permanent victory over your foe is the only thing that matters." His emerald eyes were shimmering, his face an unusual expression of meticulous contemplation. It was the most words he had spoken in a single timespan, and the Xaela's confidence in the language seemed unwavering in this moment in sharp contrast to the uncertain wobbles that occasional permeated his sentences.

 

Kasrjin exhaled, staring at the snow-filled horizon. "To fight is to remove an impending threat, and to destroy its potential of becoming a threat in the future. Hesitation brings nothing but regret."

 

He understood something slightly more. It was not his defence of himself that these westerners abhorred, but it was the result. To kill, to remove one's ability to become a threat to one's self and one's peers, was not an idea that seemed very much appreciated for reasons the Au Ra could not begin to fathom.

 

They continued their journey in silence, and Kasrjin refused to speak. By the time an imposing length of stone walls made itself visible, the sun had completed the majority of its exodus across the sky even and only a few rebellious beams of light managed to faintly pierce through the canopy of clouds above them. Kasrjin turned his attention from the female next to him and instead studied the fortifications of the settlement. The ramparts were high, almost absurdly so, and the battlements were studded with intimidating structures armed with harpoons of black spears. Several individuals, armoured in chainmail, stood on the walls. One of them was speaking to another as the trio approached the gates, and this particular one glanced at the group before placing a hand near his mouth and shouting. "Deneith!"

[Roen]

Roen was thankful that the day’s journey through Coerthas was an uneventful one. Her mind had wandered throughout the journey, especially after listening to the short exchange between Edda and Khadai regarding the purpose of violence.

 

"If the circumstance has deteriorated to the point of engaging in battle, then to fight and not kill is futile, for violence means all previous discourse has failed. At that point, permanent victory over your foe is the only thing that matters."

 

What surprised her most was that the words came from a man who she suspected to have no reluctance in taking a life. She realized that for him, resorting to bloodshed was a point of no return. When all previous discourse has failed...

 

And yet the paladin still regretted her own act of violence, even when she fully believed no other choice had been left. And that she would come to discover later than she had killed a man who still had hope in his heart…

 

“Deneith!” came the echoing call from the walls of Camp Dragonhead, and suddenly Roen found herself grateful to be broken out of her dark reverie. She quickly sniffed and straightened, shaking her head to dismiss the cobwebs of lingering melancholy. The paladin held up a hand to answer the call of the guard on watch, who then whistled down to someone else behind him and relayed a message she could not quite make out from her approach.

 

But soon Heibert Bellows and Stray Oak came trotting out of the gate. They nodded to Roen first then glanced to the two people behind her, their reaction to the tall Xaela obvious on their startled expressions. Both the mercenaries placed their hand on the hilt of the sword, but had enough sense not to draw them.

 

“You’ve been gone awhile,” Stray Oak said, at least managing a half smile. “We--I mean Ser Tournes--was worried about ya.” The Roegadyn shrugged and glanced back towards the Midlander sellsword that stood slightly behind him. “Though now that yer back, Bellows owes me fifty gil. He thought fer sure the night swallowed ya up whole.”

 

Bellows flicked his chin her way, sucking on his teeth. “Where is Fenco and Blacke?”

 

Roen did her best to keep her expression neutral. “I need to report to Ser Tournes about that. Where is he?”

 

The Hellsguard thumbed back toward the gate. “He is looking over a few more new recruits.” His attention darted between Roen and the two travelers behind her, but it was Bellows that walked past the paladin toward Edda and Khadai.

 

“And what did you drag in from the cold?” Heibert made no secret about studying the tall warrior, his eyes narrowing into slits. “Ya found yerself a Xaela eh?”

 

A sigh of relief manifested itself into a white puff of breath as paladin half turned towards Bellows and her two companions. At least she did not have to convince these two that she had not brought a Dravanian to their doorstep. “Aye. The woman is my friend, Miss Eglantine of Vylbrand. And the Au Ra… I just met him on the road. They are traveling together.” The paladin gave both the woman and the Xaela a pointed look, as if to beseech them to keep their silence for now.

 

“Is that blood?” The Midlander sellsword pointed at Khadai’s tunic. His other hand remained ever still on the hilt of the blade.

 

Roen grimaced. “It is. They ran into some trouble on the road.” She turned toward the gate. “You can listen in as I make my report to Ser Tournes.”

 

Bellows gave her a long look as he prodded something out of his upper incisors with his tongue, deliberately holding his silence. “Alright,” he finally said, flicking a look to the Hellsguard. “Stay with ‘em eh, Oak? Show ‘em yer hospitality of the grand ol’ Dragonhead while I go with Deneith here.” He glanced over his shoulder first to the Midlander woman then the Au Ra. “Make sure he don’ run into any more trouble within the walls.”

 

The paladin gave Edda a small nod in a subtle attempt at reassurance. Then she headed into the gates with Bellows, the Midlander sellsword shooting one more look of disapproval at the Xaela as he did so.

[Roen]

“Dead?”

 

Idristan Tournes’ reaction to the news was not one of shock or dismay. The arch of the Elezen’s brows did betray his surprise, but his tone remained even, as though he had heard this sort of news more times than he could count. It was the grim reality of the Dragonsong War. With a pointed glance and flick of his head, the knight captain dismissed the other sellswords that were lingering about the room--presumably the new recruits by the look on their not-quite weather-worn faces--then crossed his arms and turned to the paladin expectantly.

 

Roen nodded. “Aye. It seems they attacked an Au Ra in an attempt to retrieve his tail as proof of slaying a dragon.” She paused, studying the temple knight carefully. He had seen their ‘bounty’ in the past, whereas she had not. She wondered if this had been a recurring ruse. “The Au Ra defended himself and his ward, and Blacke and Fenco suffered mortal wounds in the confrontation. I came upon them after the deed was done and they had already perished.”

 

The Elezen’s features creased into a look of muted vexation, the lines of his face accentuated by the crackling fire in the hearth next to him. “I see.” He too appeared to be searching through his memories for Blacke and Fenco’s past successes, but seemingly drew a blank, and said nothing more with regard to that. He pressed on with the questioning. “You were not there to witness this in person? How do you know this is the truth of what happened?”

 

“I do not,” the paladin answered truthfully. “But the Au Ra is traveling with a woman that I knew before I came here. I believe her account of him to be truthful. She does not believe this Xaela to be a heartless butcher. Rash and callous perhaps, but she felt his actions were justified.”

 

Ser Tournes pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned. “As sloppy and rapacious as the two were, Blacke and Fenco were still under my command. I am responsible for their lives while they perform the duties that I’ve assigned them.” He let out a long exhale through his nose. “Now all I have are unreliable testimonies by witnesses who have all the reason in the world to askew the events in their favor.”

 

Roen’s lip twitched. She could not necessarily refute the temple knight’s account of things. She was not there. She had taken Edda’s opinion of the Xaela at face value, trusting in the woman’s judgement. That did irk her a little, for it was something that the paladin forbade herself to do now--take others at their word so readily.

 

“What do you think of him, Deneith?” Idristan’s eyes narrowed upon her. “Do you think him innocent? Should I simply let him go on the assumption that it was self defense? And that Blacke and Fenco met their end as a repayment of their own greed and zeal?”

 

“But they were still our own, ser!” Bellows protested. The Midlander had been listening by the doorway, but now he was approaching the two by the hearth. “Their deaths shouldn’t be for nothin’, at least without being sure that they deserved it.”

 

“I think the Xaela spoke the truth when he recounted the events,” Roen answered earnestly after some deliberation. Under the knight captain’s scrutiny, the paladin had managed to clear her thoughts and evaluate the situation objectively as she did not have the opportunity to before. “I believe he felt that the two threatened his life and he defended himself and my friend.” She knitted her brows as she met the Elezen squarely in the eyes. “He could have simply subdued them without ending their lives, aye… but I believe his own philosophies did not allow it. It may be the fault of his foreign culture, actually.”

 

Idristan was still watching her intently. “Self defense or not, the Au Ra still killed two mercenaries. And he is now in Ishgard territory. I need to know he does not pose a threat to the next person he comes across that may mistake him for something else. We are here to protect the lives of Ishgardians from all threat, Dravanians or otherwise.” He bowed his head slightly, to level his gaze upon the paladin. “I need proof that there will be no further corpses that trails after this man.”

 

Roen blinked then shook her head. “I do not understand what you are asking, Ser Tournes.”

 

“Go and arrest him. Tell him he is to be held for questioning.” When Roen parted her lips to protest, the Elezen held up a hand to stop her. “I merely want to see his reaction. If he responds to such a request with violence, then I cannot foresee that any other civil discourse will end up peacefully as he travels through our lands. If he answers every conflict with a swing of a blade, then I cannot let him simply walk free.”

 

The paladin narrowed her eyes. “So this is a test?”

 

Idristan nodded. “It is. We are short on manpower, and I cannot expend the time nor people needed to investigate every deaths unaccounted for. I only intend to bring charges before the Supreme Sacred Tribunal if it is dire enough that it threatens anything within the Holy See's auspice. But I need to be certain this Au Ra will abide by the laws of the land that he walks upon.” The Elezen gave a pointed look to Bellows. “And to be certain that my men will not have to worry about the likes of him in the days to come.”

 

Roen frowned. While she understood the temple knight’s dilemma, deceptions never sat well with her. Idristan seemed to read this on her expression and fixed his gaze on hers.

 

“I am allowing this test because you believe his story. If he surrenders himself, then he will be free to go as he pleases. If he brandishes his sword and resists the law of the land, then he will be cut down.” The Elezen ignored Bellows’ self-satisfied snort. He continued to hold her gaze. “Should he turn out to be a violent malefactor, I expect you to draw your sword first.”

 

The knight captain straightened and looked to her expectantly. “Go. See if he lives or dies.”