A Vision of Fog【Closed】

[Edda]

The trio arrived in Camp Dragonhead without incident. It was a difficult journey, trudging through the gathering snow, which wearied Edda more than the awkward length of silence that pervaded the group. She was quite tired as they arrived and could think of little more than a hot bath and a soft bed.

 

Roen seemed expected as they arrived, and she supposed that was hardly surprising. They were approached by a Hellsguard and Midlander, no doubt her companions, who seemed quite eager to engage her. Edda paid them little attention as they spoke. It was not her business, nor her place to interfere with the paladin’s duties. Besides, she had more pressing concerns at hand. She scanned the area as best she could, the battlements at the far side of the camp shrouded by the steady snowfall. The last and first time she had been in Camp Dragonhead, she had left no sooner than she had arrived, only there to visit a dear friend at a makeshift infirmary. Her knowledge of this place was negligible.

 

“Is that blood?”

 

Edda snapped out of her reverie at the voice of a disgruntled sounding Midlander. He pointed at Khadai – a terribly rude thing to do – and glared at him. A natural reaction to be sure, yet she could not help narrowing her eyes at the man. Roen was looking at her with a beseeching expression, and so she said nothing, watching as the paladin addressed him.

 

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

 

Yes, the report. Edda had forgotten it. Such a thing could prove troubling depending on any number of factors, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. She was nervous, though there was nothing she could do about it now.

 

The man appraised herself and Khadai quietly while picking at his teeth. The Midlander was failing to make any sort of decent impression on the woman, and she hoped he would take Roen up on her offer. “Alright,” he said after a time. “Stay with ‘em eh, Oak? Show ‘em yer hospitality of the grand ol’ Dragonhead while I go with Deneith here.” Edda felt some relief, but she frowned at the prospect of an escort. “Make sure he don’ run into any more trouble within the walls.” Roen and her rude companion took their leave, both looking at the pair over their shoulders with contrasting expressions.

 

The Hellsguard remained. He did not seem overjoyed to be saddled with the task of looking after them, but his expression was placid enough for Edda to find him infinitely more pleasing than his friend. She turned to look up at him expectantly. He smiled awkwardly and reached up to scratch the back of his head.

 

“Erm, right, grand ol’ Dragonhead,” he began. “If ye two would-“

 

Edda held up a hand to stop him. “Whatever it is you had in mind, it will not be necessary,” she said. “We seek lodging for the night – warm meals, baths, and soft beds – any place these can be found. You will take us there immediately.”

 

The Hellsguard paused and looke dat her with an incredulous expression. “Aye, if that’s what ye need, but we should first check in with Ser-“

 

“That is not what I asked.”

 

He blinked. Edda smiled sweetly at him. An innocent expression, but one that begot no argument. His orders were unclear, so it would not be too difficult to sway him in the right direction, or more accurately, the direction she wanted. “Right… This way, then.”

 

He turned and began leading them into Dragonhead. It was not a densely populated area, but enough so that it stood to reason there would be basic amenities available. She did not expect anything grand, and when the man – who she gathered was named Oak – led them to a small building with a red door that desperately needed a new coat of paint, she was not let down in the slightest.

 

Edda retrieved her knapsack from the saddle and approached the door, before turning to the Roegadyn and thrusting Gullinbursti’s reigns into his hand, as she had done with Khadai back in Fallgourd. “Surely this town has acceptable stables,” she said, and paused. She lowered her voice, and spoke in a kind tone. “Would you not take my precious steed, Ser Oak, and see him properly stabled? He must be quite weary.”

 

The woman did not wait for an answer. “If you must keep an eye on us, we shall remain here. You are welcome to return and keep guard outside, but we have little intention of doing anything other than rest. The choice is yours. Until next we meet, then.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Edda had ushered Khadai into the building and closed the door behind them, leaving behind the bewildered Hellsguard.

 

The inn was well-kept despite its outward appearance. There was a small reception area before a set of stairs, with a dining area and kitchen in the next room. A bored looking Elezen was leaning on the counter, and offered little more than an arched eyebrow in greeting. His eyes stayed trained on the Xaela, and he straightened up and took a step back as the two approached. Edda reached into her bag to fetch her gil purse, and deposited a random handful of coins on the counter. Whether it was too little, or too much, she did not know, nor could she be bothered to ask.

 

“I will take two rooms for the night,” she said. If Roen had need of one as well, she would rent another, or share her own. “You will send hot water for a bath and a warm meal.” Edda looked at the Wildwood with a gravely serious expression. “Immediately,” she added. “For both rooms.”

 

The inn-keep smirked nervously at her. He did not seem perturbed by the Au Ra’s presence – skeptical more than anything else. He reached into a drawer beside him before setting two keys carefully on the counter. “Second floor, end of the hall,” he said as he began collecting the gil.

 

Edda motioned for Khadai to follow and ascended the stairs without another word. The hallway lay at the very front of the building, the dim light from outside pouring in through the windows, illuminating the empty hall in a dusky glow. The two rooms lay at the end of the hall, the entrances perpendicular to each other. Edda opened the door to the room at the very end of the hall, and waved Khadai inside before handing him the key.

 

“You will stay in here. There will be water for a bath and food brought up to you.” She wrinkled her nose as her gaze settled on his bloodstained clothes. She would have to buy him new ones, and remove the blood from his. It was beginning to smell quite bad, appearance aside. “If you must leave for any reason, I will be in the room next door. Do not wander alone – it would be unsafe.”

 

The woman turned and let herself into her own room. Their location was a good one – if Khadai had a mind to leave on his own, or anyone came knocking on his door, she would be able to hear them first. None of that was currently on her mind, however. She was ready, so very ready to strip out of her dirty clothes and soak for as long as she could, eat a real meal, and sleep in a real bed. The prospect of Roen’s report was but a shadow of a thought in her mind, the nervousness she had felt before all but melted in the warmth of her room. Edda sat on the edge of her bed and waited. She had made it this far, alive and in good health. There was no more room for anything unexpected or untoward to happen.

[Nero]

Throughout all of these ordeals--the stern woman diverting into a building with her companion, Edda harassing the red man, and the pair of them being lead into an area that would serve as their lodgings--the Xaela did nothing but follow his guide in complete silence and stare guilelessly at everyone and everything, soaking the information like a sponge. He did not intend to stare, but in his language the word "subtlety" was spelled with six different numbers and a loud scream, and when combined with a general lack of control over his facial expressions, the Au Ra's method of retaining visual data was expressed in hard, steely glares. Random passersby--and there were a few of those, even as night began to fall upon the camp--were subjected to intense gazes that seemed to question why rocks were solid and why doors swung on hinges, along with a few more practical lines of inquisition.

 

With a particular interest, Kasrjin noted the presence of another one of those azure spires of crystal, also framed in brass and rotating gently upon an invisible axis standing at a central location. Its presence eliminated the possibility of it being merely an interesting bauble. From what information he'd received before, this was the territory of a different sovereign state that possessed an identical structure. That meant one of two things; it was either some kind of symbol, or it served a practical function that called for its presence within settlements. He made a mental note to ask as to its purpose at a later time--though he doubted that anyone would be able to elaborate on its connection with the Correspondence, at the least knowing its utility would narrow down many possibilities.

 

Decorating the parapets were more of those odd structures of black steel with wicked spikes emerging at a point. If the Xaela had to guess, those were projectile weapons used against dragons. Kasrjin snorted to himself. The size of the devices implied penetration strength and long range, and yet if the long spike in the centre comprised of one shot, then reloading must have been terribly slow and impractical. One would have to be an exceptionally skilled shot in order for the weapon to be efficient against aerial opponents. Smaller projectiles designed to fire in volleys would work better. The goal wouldn't be to kill dragons, but to force aerial opponents to a lower flight ceiling such that more effective weaponry could be deployed against them.

 

Kasrjin also noted the weaponry that the settlement's warriors possessed. They were modest, simple fare at times, being well-crafted spears and halberds. What was truly impressive to the Xaela was the amount of metal this land seemed to possess, judging by how many small swords were present. Swords were very versatile weapons, but extremely wasteful; spears and axes performed similar functions with less material and simpler techniques that retained effectiveness in a variety of situations. A hand unconsciously reached up to tap the handle of the blade briefly with one finger before recalling the imperative about keeping his sword sheathed. The Erdegai, and even Kasrjin himself, had protested against using so much material on a single weapon when the same amount of metal could have become a score or more spearheads, but now in this land of foreign folk and foreign foes, Kasrjin was grateful to be equipped with the adaptability of the weapon.

 

In any case, if so many of these warriors were equipped with melee weapons, then the dragons either landed often out of necessity, or there were other foes among the dragons that were restricted to land. Either that, or they had used so much metal in crafting armor and swords that they lacked the materiel to supply ammunition. Else, it would have been far more ideal to equip them with weapons like the firelances of the black ones.

 

The soldier in Kasrjin's head was still figuratively marching along when the Xaela came to with Edda thrusting a metal bauble towards him.

 

“You will stay in here. There will be water for a bath and food brought up to you. If you must leave for any reason, I will be in the room next door. Do not wander alone – it would be unsafe.”

 

With that definitive statement, the female invaded the premises of her own lodgings and shut the door with an unceremonious clunk. Thus, the Xaela was left alone in the hallway with naught but the small metal item he'd been left with. He turned to face the door to which he'd been assigned, eyeing it curiously. A receptacle in the door took an item, presumably the bauble. He spent several minutes silently struggling with how the two were supposed to fit together when, after managing to jam the trinket in the receptacle, the door swung open when Kasrjin attempted to pry the small item from the keyhole's grasp.

 

He stared rather dumbfounded at that occurrence. That metal trinket was an extremely impractical way to open a door.

 

By the time the tall Au Ra stepped inside, three of the settlement's inhabitants arrived upstairs. Two were hefting an impressive wooden vessel in tandem, and the third stepped two and fro from the stairs to deliver large metal jugs. This was presumably for the bath. This was, presumably, a common occurrence for the western continent. The concept wasn't foreign, but the Khadai very rarely had time or occasion to spend at the heated pools. It was one of the last things that Kasrjin had done before departing for the western continent, and it seemed like years ago since he had last enjoyed the sensation.

 

The settlement's labourers were simply dressed. One knocked on Edda's door and paused until the door swung open and the wooden vessel was ushered in. After they had emerged, they carried a second wooden vessel into Kasrjin's lodgings. The third labourer deposited several of the sizeable metal jugs into both of the rooms. The Xaela poked one, which was warm to the touch and allegedly filled with hot water.

 

He frowned. Kasrjin wasn't sure he trusted peoples who had such ready access to bathing.

 

When the labourers departed, the Au Ra gingerly stepped into the room before closing the door behind him; his hesitation was not for the room itself, but rather he was still unsure of the proper social conventions. Was this to be considered a private space? He was the only one present, but it was dangerous to make assumptions. Should he ask Edda? But what if that, too, was the improper reaction? Was it possible she would take offence to the inquiry?

 

The room was spinning by the time the myriad questions left his head.

 

Conventions be damned.

 

The room seemed warm enough, and even the blunt Xaela had to admit that given the matted blood that had been collected on the furs in the past few day, his garments required maintenance. He peeled off the leathers and undid the simple straps and buckles and pulled off the rough length of twin that had held his jet black hair in a ponytail. The sword was left on the cot that lay in the corner, the point against the wall but the handle within easy reach should he require it. Though the tunic was quite comfortable, having stripped down Kasrjin felt remarkably light. He flexed his arms and legs, his body clean of any scars or unusual features save for the obsidian scales that marked various parts of it, and shook the mane of hair. To be honest, he'd have much preferred cutting it short, but for reasons that escaped him Tsanai had insisted that maintaining a longer hair length served some nebulous manner of practicality despite it giving an opponent an easy handhold in a grapple, and so the Xaela had kept it.

 

Kasrjin eyed the metal jugs that were left by the door. He would empty their contents later. Now freed of his garments, he took the time to stretch and make sure all of his muscles were in proper working order.

 

It would be foolish to let his guard down, but that did not mean he could not relax.

[Roen]

“When I said ‘show ‘em yer hospitality, Oak, becomin’ the woman’s manservant was not what I had in mind!”

 

Roen ignored the chatter behind her, as Bellows continued to chide Oak. They had found the Roegadyn in the stables, tending to Edda’s chocobo. The Hellsguard apparently did not know how to refuse the noblewoman’s commanding instructions and assisted her in obtaining a room and stabling her bird. While Bellows threw his hands into the air in exasperation, Roen could not help but be slightly amused.

 

But the diversion was a fleeting one as they ascended the stairs leading to both Edda and Khadai’s rooms. The innkeeper had been cooperative in pointing out which ones they had paid for.

 

“What else was I ta do? She was very… insistent,” the Hellsguard said glumly.

 

“Let me take the lead on this, Bellows.” Roen gave the Midlander next to her a stern look. He had insisted on accompanying her on this task, and Ser Tournes had allowed it. The Hyur’s mistrustful nature was clear to her from the first day she had met him; even though he recognized the Au Ra for what he was, it was obvious he still regarded the Xaela with apprehension. The paladin half wondered if there was anyone Bellow did not consider suspicious other than Oak.

 

“By all means, be my guest.” Bellows gestured with a sweep of his hand. “But I’m not here to watch ya have him cheat the test.”

 

Roen paused at the top of the stairs. “Cheat?”

 

“Yeah. Warn him ahead of time that this is a test. He’s s’posed to give himself up right?”

 

“I understood the orders,” Roen said sharply. “But I will not see you provoke anyone needlessly either.”

 

Bellows only smirked. “After you.”

 

Roen paused at the door at the end of the hallway, looking to the spare keys she was given. She could just barge in, but likely approaching the Xaela with civility and reason was more likely to have a favorable outcome. There was a twinge of dread at the possibility that he would not react well, and blades would be drawn on all sides. The paladin pushed that thought aside, telling herself that Edda did not believe him to be a cold-hearted killer, and so Roen rejected the idea as well. But there was a small part of her that steeled herself for a possible violent outcome. She rapped on the door.

 

There was first silence that followed, then oddly, she was answered with the knock from within. Roen looked quizzically at the door, for nothing else emerged.

 

“Knocking?” Bellows snorted. “Let us warn the Au Ra, eh? Best to get him before her reaches for his weapons.”

 

The paladin shot the Hyur a sharp glare. “But is that not the point?” She turned back to the door, and when still no voice answered, she cleared her throat. “Khadai? Are you within?”

 

A moment later the door swung open without warning, and it was to Roen’s dismay that she found Khadai standing across the threshold from her, completely unclothed. She barely heard him say, “What is it?” in a rough tone as the paladin quickly averted her eyes.

 

“Ah.” She was staring at anything else except for the naked man in front of her and spied a wooden tub within the room. “Apologies for the intrusion…” she blurted out. She ignored a low whistle from the Roegadyn behind her.

 

“Well! I can’t say I’ve seen that!” Bellows snickered.

 

Khadai just stood at the doorway and repeated his earlier question, this time annoyance lending an edge to his voice. “What is it?”

 

It was then that the adjacent door also swung open and Edda emerged; the noblewoman was also mostly unclothed and wet, with a towel wrapped around her torso just below her clavicles. “Just what is going onnNN!” What had begun in a commanding tone quickly became a high pitched squeak, as she too averted her eyes from the Xaela, affixing her gaze pointedly at Bellows.

 

The Midlander bursted out into a fit of laughter, as he found comedy in all this that still escaped the paladin. “We have perfect timing or what?” He laughed even harder when Oak let out a longer whistle.

 

Roen rubbed her forehead and let calm return to her countenance. This was not the time to be flustered by some unexpected nudity of all things. She forced her eyes up at the towering Xaela and cleared her throat. “I have made my report to the knight captain. You are to be arrested and held for questioning for the death of the two mercenaries that you encountered.”

 

Khadai regarded her for a moment, scratching his head. There were questions that passed before his eyes and his face curled in confusion. "Ask your questions," he said tersely, swinging the door open even wider before turning his back to them and returning to the wooden tub within. Roen watched dumbfounded as he took up a jug of steaming water and proceeded to pour it into the giant basin.

 

It was at least a breath before Roen composed her next thought. “Can you at least put some clothes on?” she asked, a bit irked.

 

“I am unable to bathe effectively while wearing clothes,” the Xaela said matter-of-factly as he continue to remove two steel ornaments that capped the ends of his horizontal horns, setting them aside. “You have questions. Ask.”

 

“Wh-what do you mean, arrested?” Edda interrupted, and when Roen turned her attention (thankfully) to the noblewoman, she could see that the woman’s cheeks were ten shades deeper than Dalamud. “C-c-can this not wait?”

 

It was Bellows that answered her first with a shake of his head. “I’m afraid not, m’lady.” He spoke the title without any deference. “Orders are orders. We don’t let potential murderers soak and sleep before we question them.”

 

Roen could see Edda composing herself quickly enough, giving Bellows an utterly withering look. “I was not speaking to you.” When she met the paladin’s gaze, it was with a frown. “S-surely there must be some sort of… error. He has done nothing.”

 

Roen exhaled with a look of an apology. Certainly Edda could not have expected for the paladin to lead them to Dragonhead only to then arrange for her companion’s arrest. That had never been her intent, but it certainly could be seen that way. But even still, the Xaela was not completely innocent. “This is just for questioning,” she answered the noblewoman calmly. “The knight captain needs to be sure that it was all in self defense.”

 

The paladin was growing tired of this test. This deception. Khadai seemed willing enough to answer her questions and so far had not shown any signs that he would resort to any combat. “So you are yielding yourself? You will answer the questions posed? You will not resist being detained?” She repeated, this time for Bellows’ sake. If she could clearly illustrate the Xaela’s willingness to cooperate, this farce would be over.

 

Khadai let out an exasperated sigh and turned from the tub to face them again, folding his arms across his chest. "I have not, nor do I, intend to reach for my weapon. I am currently confined to one location, that location being this room. You have questions. I will answer. Do not waste either of our time. Ask." His impatience was growing, this much Roen could already tell. Were all the Au Ra so easily irritable?

 

“You heard the man,” Bellows pushed past her into the room, coming to lean against the wall next to the Xaela’s massive greatsword. The Midlander was not yet willing to let this charade end. Oak shifted in his stance behind her, staying silent. The Hyur had brought him along as well for backup in case reinforcement was necessary to subdue the massive Au Ra.

 

Roen was determined not to let it escalate to that point. She strode into the room and came to stand a few yalms away from the Xaela who had resumed the task of filling his tub. Ser Tournes likely would have questions for this Au Ra, as would any other that would come across a stranger who had killed two men. Even while she believed in the story that was given, Roen had the advantage of knowing Edda to lend some point of perspective. But no one else here knew either of them. The paladin now had to convince her knight captain and the mercenaries that this Xaela was not dangerous.

 

It was then that she realized there was still a small part of her conscience that also needed the same reassurance.

 

Roen narrowed her eyes and resolve settled about her frame as she regarded the Au Ra.

 

“You suffered no wounds from your encounter with Blacke and Fenco, the two mercenaries you killed. How did you know all other discourse had failed?”

[Nero]

For once, a reasonable question emerged from the stern woman's mouth.

 

"They both withdrew their weapons at little more than a visual prompt. Thus they had no intention, and possibly lacked the capability, of beginning or continuing discourse that may have lead to a non-violent resolution," the Xaela said steadfastly. "Their conversation upon approaching our location made their objective clear--to obtain an item indicative of dragonkind. Therefore, it was reasonable to make the conclusion that they would not overlook my not being Dravanian in favour of completing their objective."

 

"With these factors, I judged that the situation contained a foregone conclusion wherein they would enact violence upon my person for the purpose of obtaining the item they desired. This was incompatible with my own directive. Therefore, I engaged them in combat and removed them as a threat to myself and my companion." From the corner of his eye, Kasrjin saw Edda glance somewhat nervously at the stern woman. While giving his answer, the Au Ra had been steadily emptying the jugs of hot water into the wooden tub. By the time he had finished giving his explanation, the jugs lay empty and the tub had been filled with steaming liquid. Kasrjin rather promptly stepped into the tub, testing the water first before placing his torso within. The Xaela was far too tall for the vessel--his lengthy limbs stuck out rather awkwardly--but the tub contained enough depth for the soothing warmth of the water to cover most of his torso and lower body.

 

He sighed his first sigh of contentment since arriving on the continent.

 

"So you never told them that you were not dragonkin." The stern woman narrowed her eyes. "I approached with my weapon drawn. I first thought you Dravanian. And yet both of us draw breath still without bloodshed. Your conclusion could have been a mistake." Her gaze seemed to flick awkwardly about Kasrjin's form before relaxing somewhat when he sunk into the tub.

 

"My conclusion was the most optimal solution given the circumstances and my capacity as a warrior," Kasrjin asserted. "In addition, it would have been your false assumption, not my response, that would have begun conflict as the assumptions of those two did. The lack of knowledge is dangerous. To take action based on incomplete knowledge is a much greater threat." Kasrjin said those words without the slightest hint of irony.

 

"Part of my assumption still holds. You did kill the two men I was sent to seek out." The stern woman's retorts were coming quicker.

 

"The fault lies with me," Edda interjected. "Had I been awake, no doubt the two could have been reasoned with."

 

The stern woman was about to continue but then paused as Edda spoke. "But you will not be his guide throughout..." she turned to the second female, but froze upon fully acknowledging Kasrjin's response. A deep scowl emerged on her face as she glared at him as he relaxed rather nonchalantly in the bathtub.

 

"I could say you did the same. You did not truly know their nature, you made your assumptions based on what you heard, and how they reacted. Sometimes that is all we are given, what we see, what we believe, and we have to act upon them. And sometimes, our actions turn out to be grievous mistakes."

 

Kasrjin frowned. "Had they not approached with their weapons withdrawn and voiced their intentions to inflict harm, conflict would have been unnecessary." He spoke no more after that, adjusting himself in the tub.

 

The Midlander crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. He said nothing as he prodded his upper incisor again with his tongue.

 

"You may have other similar encounters here in Coerthas and Ishgard. They look upon anything that could be remotely dragonkin with a great deal of suspicion. What will you do if another draws their weapon, mistaking you for Dravanian?", asked the stern woman.

 

Another sigh escaped from the Xaela's lips, this one bordering exasperation. "Should they instigate combat, then I will respond in the manner most efficient in regards to defending myself and those with me." Shimmering emerald eyes glanced at the stern woman almost disdainfully. "I will attempt discourse first, though I lack confidence in the ability of Westerners to comprehend proper communication." The dry remark was accompanied with a slosh as he adjusted his position in the tub again.

 

The Midlander sucked on his teeth. "He don' sound all that convincing."

 

The stern woman returned a hard glare. "Have you considered that your thinking and ours, could be vastly different? It is not comprehension that fails here. It is actual communication. You assumed much from what you observed. And yet you fault me for doing the same. And to you, none of your perceptions hold any error. You walk on foreign soil. To assume that things are how you perceive they should be, is erroneous."

 

Oh, how wonderful it would be to have Tsanai at his side right now. She would at least spare him the ignominy of explaining something so terribly simple.

 

"I am fully aware of our differences," Kasrjin responded in an acerbic tone. "I am foreign. I do not understand, and may forever lack the capacity to understand the incredible inefficiencies of your society. In the situation with the two, I made no assumptions. The actions of the two clearly indicated intent to do harm. There was no lack of information. I acted upon the presence of evidence and made a reasonable conclusion from their actions and statements alone: they would engage in battle with me. I responded."

 

Talking so much was beginning to make him almost physically ill. This conversation was possibly the most words he'd ever spoken within a single time span, and it being about something so...banal...was not helping.

 

"You made no attempt to allow them to stop if they just had been shown that they were mistaken! Perhaps they would have..." The stern woman stopped.

 

Was this truly how the western continent operated? Kasrjin's thoughts were a jumbled mess, ranging from indignation to confusion to bewilderment and back again. There was a clear threat that was both visible and audible. Their actions reflected their intentions to do harm, and their intentions obviously fueled their actions. What did the westerners expect him to do? Had he not had his weapon out, and had the two not blathered instead of completing their objective, he would be dead, and he would not be holding this conversation.

 

Even with the soothing water of the bath, the Xaela found himself with a headache.

 

Let his task be done quickly.

[Edda]

It was bad enough that her long, relaxing soak had been cut short at the very end. Worse still was that Roen and her entourage had interrupted it for reasons she could not quite comprehend. To be suspicious of Khadai was a natural reaction, but the purpose of an interrogation – here and now – seemed unusually silly. Yet there was little she could do but watch; her input would carry no weight in an exchange between the two.

 

The roegadyn man that stood behind Roen seemed to be distracted by her, for whatever reason. Perhaps he was not used to having a civilian bear witness to such proceedings, and Edda peered curiously at him over her shoulder. He was not participating in the interrogation, and so she had to wonder what purpose his being here served.

 

“Is something the matter?” Edda asked softly as she met his gaze.

 

Oak licked his lips, his eyes having difficulty concentrating on her face. “It could get cold out here, Miss. If ya want ta be puttin’ on somethin…” he murmured. He was not wrong – it was becoming rather cold out in the hallway. She could bear it however, and she must. There would be no chance for her to step back into her room and change; she would not miss a moment of this.

 

Edda looked back to the doorway which Khadai lay beyond. “I am quite fine,” she said quietly. She had no intention of interrupting the two, though she frowned as they continued bickering. Their conversation was quickly going nowhere. “I trust my dear chocobo is taken care of,” she said to Oak. His stare could still be felt on her shoulder.

 

“Your bird is doing fine Miss, likely being fed some—“ Oak cut himself off when Roen spun around to face Edda, her expression one of suppressed indignation.

 

“How long will you serve as guide to this man?”

 

She hesitated, the question an unexpected. “I- I do not know,” she said, and put a hand to her chest and looked down. She would quickly become useless to Khadai once they reached Ishgard, her familiarity with the city tenuous at best. No doubt he would want to be rid of her, and quickly.

 

“Should more fall by his blade, you know you may also be held accountable. Do you understand that, Edda?” Her words were grim, her eyes intent on the noblewoman.

 

She looked up at the paladin, her face set in resolve. “Of course. The burden would be mine alone to bear. As it should be now.”

 

Roen shook her head and looked at the woman searchingly. “No. His actions are his own. As clearly as he stated his role in it, naught that happened falls upon you. At least… not yet.” The redhead licked her lips and looked sidelong to where Bellows was leaning against the wall. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but did not.

 

“Be that as it may,” Edda began slowly. “It is my responsibility to see he follows the laws of this land. His actions are his own, yes, yet if he fails to behave under my supervision, I alone should shoulder the blame.”

 

“Just why did you enter into a contract with this man?”

 

A strange question, one she felt was already quite clear. Did it really seem so strange, for her to do such a thing? Edda looked away to gather her thoughts, before glancing back with a small smile. “Would you not do the same? I become lost quite frequently. Eorzea is as much of a labyrinth to me as it is to him… I could not abandon someone with whom I empathize.” A pause. “Besides, he will be helping me as well, when the time comes. I need him.”

 

Roen bowed her head slightly and let out a sigh before nodding. “I think that will be all,” she said quietly, her voice having softened slightly. Edda relaxed through a sigh of her own, and Khadai could be heard pulling himself up from the tub. It seemed her answers had been adequate, and the investigation drew seemingly to a close.

[Roen]

“Mayhaps for you,” Bellows pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on.

 

Roen flicked the Midlander a glance as he strolled near the bed, snatching up a towel and tossing it to the Au Ra who had risen up out of the bath tub. The paladin only kept the nude figure in the periphery of her vision, since he was not the greatest threat in the room at the moment. Rather, it was the mercenary she had brought with her.

 

“Quit flustering the ladies, eh?” The Hyur’s banter held no mirth, nor did his crooked grin. He snatched up a towel and tossed it at Khadai backhand, in an almost derisive way. He strolled to the side of the bed and picked up the Xaela’s greatsword by its long hilt.

 

Roen turned fully to face the mercenary and tilted her head with a warning. “What are you doing?”

 

Bellows tried to heave the massive sword over his shoulder, but settled for sticking the tip into the ground instead. "Captain said he was to be held for questioning.” He gave Roen a sidelong glance with a nonchalant shrug. But there was more behind his narrowed eyes. “We should make sure the captain don't have questions of his own, eh?"

 

The paladin quickly glanced to Khadai. This was an attempt to provoke him, that much was clear. The Au Ra remained eerily quiet and made no moves towards the mercenary. But he gave Bellows a hard stare, and while Roen did not see any obvious animosity on his expression, it was obvious that the Xaela was intently watching the Hyur.

 

"Edda. I require clarification to this situation.” He finally broke his silence. “What is the appropriate course of action?"

 

The noblewoman brushed past the paladin and stepped into the room, glaring at Bellows as well. “Just what is the meaning of this? Put his sword down this instant.” She brought one hand down from the cusp of her towel and held it out to her side with a flourish. "You would be wise to heed Roen's decision, and give your superior your report. If he has any cause for concern, or any further questions, then he can come here himself!"

 

"Tsk, tsk." Bellows shook his head, his finger tapping on the hilt of the sword. "Your highness," he addressed her, his words dripping with sarcasm. "Your noble attitude won't get you any where with me. I know your type. Bossy, used to getting what you want. You're not in your mansion and we ain't your servants. This man is under suspicion for murder, and until the captain says so, I can't have him detained in here with deadly weapons." The mercenary leaned in and spoke the last two words slowly as if speaking to a child.

 

"Enough, Bellows," Roen said sharply. "I will make my report, the captain will make his decision." She gave Khadai one more glance before turning back to Edda. "It is but temporary. It will be returned to him once the decision is made."

 

The Midlander let out a loud snort. "Yer assumin' a lot, Deneith." He wasn't looking at her though, he was squarely meeting the Au Ra’s gaze. His tone was daring. "What if he orders the Xaela’s execution in the morn, eh? Mayhaps I use this sword to do it."

 

It was then that Edda quickly closed the distance between herself and the mercenary and struck the man clean across the face. Without even waiting for his response, she turned her back to him and looked to Roen with a stern look. "You would do well to tell your captain to take care in who he hires. You may keep the sword for now. I will come to retrieve it at first light, tomorrow. It will be returned to me."

 

"The princess has got a bite!" Bellows winced and rubbed his cheek. The paladin ignored him.

 

"Leave this room, now." Roen glared icily at the Hyur to which he snorted but complied. Oak soon followed, the look on the Roegadyn’s face uncertain.

 

The paladin kept her silence as she watched the Midlander leave with the Hellsguard, their armored footsteps growing more distant down the hallway. She let out a quiet sigh of relief that the matter did not escalate despite Bellow’s efforts. And yet, a part of her still could not blame the man. For all he knew, this towering Au Ra cared nothing for the lives he took, even if he had the justification of self defense. Killing soldiers under the jurisdiction of the Holy See, no matter how loose the affiliation, never boded well for anyone. Roen wondered how much of this Edda truly understood. She knew the noblewoman was learned in many things, and yet with her flash of indignation in Khadai’s defense, Roen believed Edda’s perspective in this could be slightly biased.

 

Roen glanced to the woman and found Edda’s gaze keen with determination. The paladin wondered why the noblewoman defended the Au Ra so fervidly. Did she care so much for all who were in her association?

 

A sidelong glance was then afford to the Xaela. Khadai still stood unmoving, not caring for the moisture running in rivulets down his body. He held an odd expression as he continued to stare out towards the hallway. It was still an austere countenance, but now somewhat unreadable. Gone was the impatience and contempt that always seemed to etch his dark, scaled visage, and in its place was a perplexed foreigner.

 

The paladin turned back to Edda with a tired sigh. “He was trying to provoke him.” She turned her head towards to Khadai without really looking at his form. “It was fortunate that you did not take the bait.”

 

The Xaela jerked his head towards her, his glance one of disapproval. “I do not understand,” he rumbled. But that was all he said before he picked up the towel that was thrown at him to dry himself.

 

"They fear your actions, and so they seek to neuter you by stripping you of your weapon," Edda stated simply.

 

All of her earlier vexation had faded, and now Roen just felt weary. "Had there been an incident, had you shown yet another proclivity to react with sudden violence, consequences would have been much more dire." The paladin glanced up at Khadai, careful to keep her gaze strictly above his jawline. "But I think you proved my case rather than his."

 

Khadai frowned, his confusion evident. "I am treated as if I am a weather pattern, or a storm," he murmured as an idle observation. "I do not understand," he repeated to nobody in particular.

[Edda]

The skin of her palm still stung. She did not strike the man particularly hard, not as much as he deserved, but the action left a bad taste in her mouth, as if the ire she felt at his disrespect reflected more poorly on her than it did him. Still, it was not something she could simply let go. An assault on those under her care, in any capacity, may as well have been an assault on her.

 

She listened in as Roen spoke, a frown etching its way onto her features. “So, this display here was a farce?” She adjusted the towel around her as she spoke, having come loose from slapping the ingrate. The woman had no great love for mind games, and she felt very much the fool for being treated as such.

 

Roen glanced between the two others before bowing her gaze. “Something of the sort. My knight captain needed proof, however loosely, that both your accounts, and my belief in both your accounts was not unfounded.”

 

“The sword will be returned to me tomorrow morning,” Edda said, tone stringent. It was not a question.

 

The paladin narrowed her eyes. “Do you understand the seriousness of what could have happened? If he was charged with murder, then you could have been an accessory.” There was no anger in her words, but her imploring was clear to even Edda, who softened her expression at the tone. “It is imperative that he…” She stopped herself, and turned. “That you understand, the laws of this land are very strict.”

 

“I do. I know that he is no cold-blooded killer. However, if that idiot troglodyte had managed to provoke Khadai into violence, I know full well it would reflect poorly on me. If I am to be tried and found guilty, then such is my fate.”

 

Roen let out an exasperated sigh. “And that would be the last thing I want.”

 

“Such rigidity is not unfamiliar to me,” Khadai said. “I will act within reason.”

 

“You are clearly here out of benevolence and generosity,” Roen said, before looking up at the Xaela. “Despite your aggravating lack of social awareness, I do not believe…” She paused, a dash of consternation on her features. “I suspect Edda is right about you in that no more deaths will follow in your wake.”

 

Roen turned back to Edda, and continued. “But there are more men like Bellows that you will encounter. Many eager sellswords answered the call of Ishgard. They may be crude and perhaps even despicable…” She gave a glance to Khadai over her shoulder. “But that does not mean they deserve death.”

 

“Of course not,” Edda said softly. She cautioned a quick peek at Khadai to see if had clothed himself or not. He hadn’t, and she looked back to Roen, her cheeks dyed pink. “I trust you to tell your own truth of things. You will not hold back for my sake, nor for his. Least of all mine. So long as you keep your awful subordinate in line.”

 

Roen rolled her eyes. “They are really not my subordinates,” she said wryly. “It is just that the captain entrusted me with this task. But Bellows insisted on being a second pair of eyes and ears. Distrusting one, he.” She sighed. “And I confess… perhaps I too needed to be certain.”

 

There was a sudden stir in Khadai’s corner of the room. Though Edda faced away from him, she could see the blur of his form out of the corner of his eye, and the motions and noises of the man dressing himself could be heard clearly. He seemed perfectly content to be nude before, why would he start dressing now, of all inopportune times? The blonde woman stretched her left arm behind her and held up a hand to stop him. She still faced Roen – not at all eager to turn around and face the man.

 

“Stop, Khadai,” she said, her voice clear and commanding. “Do not clothe yourself just yet.” Her face was furrowed in concentration, before she broke into a nervous smile at Roen. “It is only understandable. You are more than welcome to witness Khadai’s nature for yourself – at least, if he is alright with it.”

 

Roen blinked, clear shock on her face. “P-pardon?” Khadai stilled, and his inquisitive stare burned into the back of her head.

 

Edda tilted her head. Surely what she had said had not been so confusing? “If you are so concerned, why not come to Ishgard with us? Assuming of course, we are set free.”

 

The paladin licked her lips, the shock on her features melting away. She shook her head and continued. “Ah. To Ishgard.” The woman fell silent for a moment, her brows knitted. Edda felt a twang of guilt for having asked such a demanding question. Roen had her own duties to attend to, and that she was here in a foreign land, busying herself with work, spoke more about her than she might realize. “I may be able to argue for it. It… may even work in your favor if I presented that to the captain as an option.” She sounded neither enthused nor dismayed, but the frown upon her face was as clear as anything.

 

“We would be glad to have you. Is that not right, Khadai?”

 

“I do not object,” he said absentmindedly.

 

Edda smiled. “That is good, then.” She figured the Xaela would have minded terribly, considering his initial reaction to the woman. That he was warming to her – or at least seemed to be – was a good sign. “Do speak to your superior on it. Also do be sure to remind him the sword is not his to keep.”

 

Roen exhaled, her cheeks puffing out slightly as she did so. She nodded.”Aye. I think I will do so. I think this went… as well as it could...” She barely turned her head. “…for you.” She cleared her throat. “I will leave you two to finish… getting dressed.” She murmured the last few words quickly.

 

“Take care, then. And thank you, Roen. For what it is worth.” The paladin nodded as she exited the room with some haste. Edda smiled at the woman’s retreating back, before her expression sobered tremendously. She sighed, and put a hand over her heart. What a trying interruption that had been, and for what? Perhaps Roen trusted Khadai now, but what good would that be if his ultimate goal turned out to be reprehensible? Trust would not only be lost in Khadai, but herself as well. The thought weighed in her mind, and suddenly her heart felt very heavy.

 

“Am I to be dressed now?” Khadai asked with some confusion.

 

Edda frowned at the floor, her musing interrupted by a question with an obvious answer. She half-looked over her shoulder at Khadai’s face, and only his face. “Tell me, what would be the point of bathing if you are only going to change back into your filthy clothes? I will go and fetch you suitable items to wear while I clean your own.”

 

The Au Ra glanced at his furs and leathers and nodded. He gathered up his clothes before approaching Edda, placed a hand on her shoulder, and shoved her out of the room, dropping the clothes beside her in a messy pile. He shut the door, leaving Edda in the silent hall. There was work to be done, and she wasted no time in heading downstairs to the foyer, not sparing the time to clothe herself.

 

It was remarkably easy to harass the Innkeeper for a pair of spare bed clothes and a few fire and water shards, and Edda had to wonder what she had done to be so deserving of hospitality in a notoriously inhospitable land. She brought the woolen dalmatica and slacks upstairs. They were fitted for an adult male Elezen, and though getting his horns past the neck hole might be trial, Khadai would be able to fit them.

 

Edda left the bundle of clean clothes in a neat pile outside Khadai’s door and knocked once, before gathering his dirty leathers. She recoiled at the smell of them. Cleaning them would be no small task. The woman shivered in the cool air, and quickly entered her room and dressed herself in her own nightgown. Now dressed and warmed by the hearth in her room, sleep suddenly seemed to be a most attractive idea. She had two more sleeping potions with her – one more, after tonight. The thought gave her pause. What would happen then, when she arrived in Ishgard? So clearly she had thought her job would be done then, but would it be wise to leave Khadai on his own? She could not expect Roen to look after him. Frowning, Edda searched her satchel for a small slip of paper and envelope, and sat at the desk to write a short letter.

 

Gideon –

I hope this letter finds you well. Knowing that you are staying in Gridania, I would ask a most urgent favor of you. I have made my way to Coerthas, and plan to head to Ishgard as soon as I am able. Would you be so kind as to join me in the city? I have great need of you, and am lacking in many basic items – mostly clothing. The situation is a strange one, though I am quite well. I will explain in more detail once I see you. As always, you may bill the manor for whatever travel expenses you may incur.

- E.E.

Edda sealed the missive to be mailed in the morning. It seemed unfair to ask him to make such a journey at her idle whim, but she had little doubt of the good he would be able to do. Roen had been the one to ask her to take him in, so at the very least it would be good to reunite them. She smiled at the thought, before gathering the shards and her and Khadai’s dirty clothes, and went to work.

[Roen]

Roen ascended the stairs of the inn once more, the greatsword heavy in her grasp.

 

“I will leave the responsibility of his fate in your hands, Deneith. He passed the test, I will not hold him.”

 

Idristan Tournes reaction to Khadai’s “arrest” had been as the paladin predicted; she had come to know the knight captain as strict but fair in judgement. But Bellows voiced his dissatisfaction loudly, still arguing against the deaths of the two mercenaries. He also questioned Roen’s judgement in that she was showing bias because she favored the noblewoman, and inquiring about the paladin’s own past that she had yet to speak of. He seemed to be intent on turning the interrogation onto her when the temple knight finally stopped him with a raise of his hand and a stern look.

 

The knight dismissed Bellows and Stray Oak--the latter who had stayed silent the entire time--and turned to the paladin with a warning that he did not share with the others. He confided in her that it would be best if she would escort the Au Ra to Ishgard, and in doing so discern the foreigner’s motives and nature. Additionally, it would distance her somewhat from Bellows and squelch the unrest that the mercenary’s suspicious nature was inciting among some of the new recruits.

 

Roen did not know what to think about accompanying Edda and Khadai to Ishgard. A part of her was at least comforted in knowing that she could make certain of the noblewoman’s safety; she did not trust her care to the Xaela. The paladin did not think the Au Ra had ill intentions, but he seemed to be a magnet for trouble. And he would be even more so in Ishgard, a city full of people who looked upon all outsiders with distrust. She did not want Edda caught up in that mess.

 

The paladin knocked softly upon the door to the noblewoman’s room. It had been bells since she had left the two earlier, and night had fallen long ago. There was no answer. Even a quiet call produced no response.

 

Her mind set to purpose, Roen knocked on Khadai’s door.

 

"Enter."

 

Upon opening the portal, Roen found the Xaela not in the chair or upon the bed, but sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He was dressed in plain, borrowed clothing from his appearance; slight tears around the neck of his tunic were visible where it seemed some difficulty was had with his horns. The clothing was clearly ill-fitting, though he looked to be of an Elezen's proportions, the tailoring was not as adaptable. The Xaela’s emerald gaze stared straight ahead at the wall opposite him even when she crossed the room in front of him.

 

"You are free to go in the morn,” the paladin said quietly as she laid his greatsword onto his bed.

 

"Yet you possess inquiries."

 

Roen straightened, remaining at the edge of the bed as she studied the seated figure. The Au Ra was perceptive, that was never a doubt. "I have many inquiries. You have been frank so far, as far as I can gather, and have been willing to answer truthfully." She paused as if to mull over her questions. "Why are you here?"

 

"To find information that will assist me in performing my function." The answer is almost immediate, and with very little hesitation. The Xaela still refused to look at her, keeping his gaze fixed on the wall.

 

"I need more information than that.” The paladin took the opportunity to study him, for she had never seen an Au Ra before this past sun. Khadai had retied his hair back into the ponytail from before, jet black locks fringed with deepwood green. His ebony horns were capped with metal ornaments on the front ends, and in the light, small detailed patterns of facepaint were visible around his eyes and cheekbones. His expression was as severe as ever. “And why do you need Edda?" she added, her eyes narrowed.

 

There was a pause. "I became lost."

 

Roen quirked a brow. "That is it. You became lost.” It was a straightforward answer, and yet almost too simple. She was not sure she believed it. “Edda said she tried to initially run away from you. Why did she say that?"

 

"I was attacked by masked warriors. I presume she found the aftermath, and drew her conclusions from there." His expression remained stoic, his tone neutral. There was no obvious guile in his voice.

 

"Did they meet the same fate as the two I was looking for?" Roen knew there was a darkening of her expression as the paladin too began to draw her own conclusions.

 

The Xaela sighed, as if he expected what was coming next. "The circumstances differed. They did not voice their intentions first. They merely attacked with intent to kill, and forfeited the possibility of discourse."

 

"This was... in the Shroud?"

 

He paused again. "The tall forest," he said, more to himself.

 

Roen frowned. She had been to Gridania a few times, and the Wood Wailers’ compassionless attitude towards foreigners ("poachers") in their land were even at times harsher than in Ishgard. Masked bandits were also plentiful in the Shroud.

 

And yet this was still more evidence of the violence that followed in the Xaela’s wake. And Edda had purposefully said nothing of it. Whether this was his fault or not, it should have been disclosed at least to her. There was a stirring of misgivings in her mind, ones that she had just dismissed mere bells ago.

 

But he did tell me the truth when asked... when he did not have to, the paladin reminded herself. While Edda chose to conceal it, Khadai answered honestly. Despite his abrasive nature, the Xaela did not seem prone to deception. It allowed the paladin to set her suspicions aside for now. "You were intending to come here. To Coerthas. Why?"

 

Khadai’s expression twisted into a perplexed frown. "I am… meant to travel here."

 

"For what purpose?"

 

The Au Ra pursed his lips in thought then pointed to the wall across from him where his gaze had been fixed. "I have carved patterns into the stone. Do you see colour?"

 

When Roen turned to the opposite wall, her eyes widened to see faint but elaborate patterns on the stone wall that she had not recognized before. Whorls and curves were etched into it, all made with lines seemingly unbroken. When she focused on one section of the pattern, the adjacent section appeared to change to the eye. Some lines would become straighter while others would curl into semicircles, or bend. The shift only happened at peripheral vision, and when one focused on the source of the change, it reverted to its initial state. The optical illusion covered nearly the entirety of a single brick's surface.

 

"What... is this?" Roen bent closer to the large stone, her eyes squinted.

 

"Do you see colours within the pattern?"

 

Her eyes roamed about the diagram once more, this time with care. The etchings were devoid of hues or shades; only the light marring upon the gray stone was visible. "Nay. Just lines. Or circles. Patterns. But... no colors."

 

"That is why,” Khadai rumbled. "The information I seek is… related. For I see the faint colours, yet they are different. Foreign from what I know. I must discern why.” He drew a breath, and when he continued, his voice was monotonous and his intonations mechanical. It was as if he was reciting a prayer in a foreign language. “Beneath the conflict of swords and wings, the blood of principle spills upon snow and mountains. The sea of mist shrouds a timeless testament, upon which the eternal march shall be impaled." His expression was blank, as if he too did not hold any awareness as to the words’ meaning.

 

Roe gave him a sidelong glance. "Where do those words come from? Is that a prophecy?"

 

"It is not. It is a...." he paused, as if struggling to find the right word. "It is a wish, of sorts." He shook his head. "I am not equipped to explain it to you."

 

Roen turned back to the Au Ra, crossing her arms. "And you need Edda for this?"

 

"Not her specifically… at least, I do not have reason to believe so. She acts as my guide within this land as I seek my objective. And in return, I am to fight for her when she calls upon me."

 

"She picked a capable fighter then," she noted mostly to herself. "Edda means to see you to Ishgard, that much is certain. I have agreed to accompany you both to the city, and I have no doubt you will need further guidance within that city." She paused, regarding him intently. "But will you consider your contract complete in terms of her agreement to you once you are there? She is not the best guide you could have chosen."

 

"The terms of our agreement ended when we breached the snowline. She is obliged to me no longer. That is… the terms of her agreement with me."

 

The paladin blinked. "I... see. Therefore she continues in your company because she feels that you need her. And she has already assumed responsibility for your actions."

 

Khadai stared past her, back onto the barely visible pattern. "I do not know the appropriate course of action for this circumstance."

 

"I wish to see you leave her company," Roen stated bluntly without emotion. "She has taken on a responsibility that should have never been hers, one she is poorly equipped to handle should there be any complications." She paused, her voice quieting. "She is my friend. I do not wish to see her in trouble. Especially when undeserved.”

 

It was then that the Au Ra finally looked to her for the first time in their conversation. His face was one of utter confusion. "She is no longer obliged to me," he said awkwardly. "I do not understand why you have opened discourse with me about this."

 

Roen stepped closer to him, as if that would press her point. "Not by contract. But she feels some obligation to you. And in honoring that, whether it is truly binding or not, she has put herself into a situation that is not suitable for her." The paladin was careful to keep her tone neutral. "I am not faulting you for this. But I am asking you to part from her company. By refusing her generosity."

 

There was just a slight widening of his eyes, as if a realization had dawned on him. "I understand," he murmured. "From the beginning she has stepped outside of her capacity by serving as a guide. Therefore it would be inefficient to utilize her abilities for that which she is not meant for." He seemed to be agreeing with her. "What would be the optimal course of action? Is there another within a role that may provide me assistance?"

 

The paladin narrowed her eyes. That was not quite her sentiment, but in a literal sense she supposed it was. "You need to find another guide. One more suitable. Perhaps we can find you one in Ishgard." She paused and bowed her gaze. "Although… that may be difficult in and of itself. By the very nature of your appearance, I fear your will incite much suspicion from those within that city. You are in a land where people have fought dragonkind for over thousand years. Where people have shut their gates to all outsiders. I cannot see them welcoming someone like you with open arms."

 

Khadai frowned. "....Do they possess doors for arms?"

 

Roen cocked another brow. That question sounded earnest. She studied him for a moment, as if to expect another sarcastic retort. When none came, she sighed. “No. They are... just arms." She paused, electing to believe that it was his comprehension in figure of speech that was lacking. His grasp of their language was otherwise adequate, if not surprisingly competent. "It is just a turn of expression. They will not be very hospitable."

 

"I understand,” the Au Ra rumbled. Silence fell over the conversation for a time before he spoke again. "You act within a military capacity. So, too, do I. Is there no possibility of reconciliation between these roles? You and I possess similar responsibilities. Are you not fit to clarify misconceptions of the western continent?"

 

The paladin narrowed her eyes, trying to follow his logic. “I suppose I am.”

 

"Then I propose a transaction of services." His tone was awkward, but he trained his eyes intently upon hers. "I request information of the western continent. In return, I offer my body and abilities."

 

Both the paladin’s brows shot upwards towards the ceiling. "Your..." There was a long pause as she stared at him with her lips pressed tightly together. "Is that the offer you made to Edda?"

 

His expression was puzzled. "Is it not adequate?"

 

She licked her lips, searching for the right words. "You do mean, your body as in... your capacity as a warrior." She cleared her throat. That did not quite sound right either. "What I mean is, your fighting prowess,” she added hastily.

 

Khadai then stood, as if to display himself.

 

Roen stared at him again incredulously, for that gesture did not help.

 

"Yes." He seemed confused and studied her face. "Are you cold?" It was more of a statement than a question.

 

She immediately made a face even without thinking. She could already feel the burning in her cheeks. "Your..." She cleared her throat again. "You may want to work on that... proposed transaction. That is... if you are going to continue to offer your... services... here. In the Western continent." She let out a long suffering sigh. "It could entirely mean something else."

 

"What is this other interpretation? I wish to know."

 

The paladin grimaced. She opened her mouth then closed it a few times before deciding on what to say. But it still came out in a nervous stammer. "Well. To uh... offer ‘your body’... in our ... in this land... this place... it ah... you could be offering services akin to prostitution." She scratched her head, she had never been at ease with this subject.

 

"I do not understand this word. What is the definition?" Xaela still seemed clueless. "I wish to obtain this information to understand the avoidance of this interpretation."

 

Roen hung her head, her hands falling to her sides. Of course he does not know what that means, she chided herself. She forced her voice to calm as she peered up at Khadai, willing for him to understand her this time around. "Prostitution is when you offer… sex. For money. Or services." She rolled her eyes away away at him. It was more out of annoyance at herself than the Au Ra. "Understand?"

 

He still wore somewhat of a bewildered look, but he nodded. "I understand."

 

Determined not to be flustered, the paladin squared her shoulders and forced her gaze back onto the Xaela. She was feeling rather silly. "So unless that is what you are proposing in the transaction, I suggest you choose another word."

 

Khadai frowned. "I have erred. Edda may be unaware of this interpretation. If my offer was inadequate, then I must needs clarify the transaction for her. If this transaction is to be performed equitably, the availability of this second offer must be made known to her."

 

Roen quickly shook her head. "I am fairly certain that she chose to interpret it as you offering your services as a warrior. At least that is what she has told me in what she has agreed to. I do not think you need to--"

 

The Xaela continued, despite her protests. His expression was intent. "Referring to our own transaction of services. If the first interpretation is found lacking, then I offer the second interpretation in addition." He nodded once as if to himself, seemingly satisfied with the proposal made.

 

Khadai was met with a long, silent stare. Her lips moved as if trying to form the words, but it was awhile before she actually made any sound. "No," she said hoarsely. "I am certain that is not... not necessary. No."

 

He was staring at her. "Is the first interpretation sufficient?"

 

"Yes!" she blurted out. "I mean… no! That is..." She released a sharp breath through her nostrils. "I am certain we can get you a guide that is more willing."

 

The Xaela was squinting at her, as though he could not fathom whatever words she had left unspoken.

 

Roen took a deep breath to collect her thoughts. "I am not even certain why you are here. And now I believe even you are not sure of your purpose."

 

"I am not, though I wish to be," he said austerely. "One who is merely a guide may not be sufficient. Our overlapping of responsibilities may offer each of us experience with which we can reach further reconciliation." His emerald gaze met hers. "Is my offer inadequate?"

 

The paladin sighed. She wanted to object. Continuing in their company beyond Ishgard was not something she had even remotely considered. She had not come to Ishgard to aid a foreigner in some enigmatic journey. And yet… did she truly know what her own purpose was in this frigid place?

 

"Let me think on it,” she said quietly, her gaze growing distant.

 

Khadai nodded. "I shall heed your words, and refuse Edda's generosity. Though she steps outside of her role, she must travel with me until my debt is repaid and our transaction completed in full. Our transaction is not done until I am called upon to fight for her."

 

Roen frowned. Why did Edda need such a favor? From a foreigner no less? She dismissed her apprehensions with a shake of her head. "There are ways in our lands where she can contact you from afar."

 

"If that is true, then that is adequate. So long as I remain capable of being called upon."

 

There was a wry curl to her lips. "I will show you one such way, soon enough." There was just a smallest part of her that drew some amusement from imagining how he would react to a moogle.

 

When the Au Ra merely nodded in answer, she turned toward the door. There was a thought that then crossed her mind, one that she had set aside earlier. "She will likely be angry with me, that I asked you to leave her company," the paladin said quietly without looking at the Xaela. It brought another fleeting reminder of Mister North, he who would tell her that others deciding people’s fate for them was not something he appreciated. And that Roen should be above such pretension.

 

"That is between you and her," the Xaela said matter-of-factly.

 

“Aye,” the paladin acknowledged with a tinge of regret as she opened the door. "Be ready to leave in the morn."

[Nero]

When the stern woman had left--Kasrjin, for some reason, could not recall if he had been given her identity in the first place--he was once again left alone with his thoughts, and the pattern he had carved onto the wall. The steel points of his horn ornaments were tarnished and dulled from the usage somewhat, but the stone was easy enough to scratch. Every time his eye flicked over the pattern, it shifted; the colours were extremely faint but visible. Something here within this land resonated with the Correspondence, at least on a superficial level. Yet, why did it feel so different? He did not feel the presence of the Forfeiture in the slightest. The ever-present tugging and redirection that persisted him was absent within these lands.

 

He glanced at the bed beside him. It's not as if the hard stone floor was necessarily comfortable, but the Xaela had found to his dismay that the bed was too soft and, most disconcertingly, too short; an awkward length of his legs were left helplessly dangling over the side, and in any case, it was far more comfortable in general for him to sleep sitting as opposed to lying down, especially given his horns. At least his sword had been returned; he had kept the harness with what meagre belongings he'd had, and the blued steel of the weapon would be a comfort.

 

Kasrjin shifted his position, leaning one arm against his knee, his gaze finally breaking away from the patterns. It was impossible to tell what cycle of the moon it was from the interior of the room, but after a full day of travel, it was more important that he rest now.

 

He would find the information he needed, in time.

 

--

 

The first thing he heard was a metallic roar.

 

It wasn't the soft chime he was used to. It was the loud, resonant echoing of a massive bell. The earsplitting reverberation could be heard even from within the stony confines of his room. He could almost feel the scales of his horns vibrate from the force of the noise. In the first instant, he lay resting, his body unwilling to rise from its sitting position. In the next instant, the harness was on his back, its bladed occupant comfortably resting within it. The Xaela was an odd sight, especially with his weapon; he was still dressed in the ill-fitting common clothes that Edda had given him the night prior, but it didn't matter. What did matter was that the booming cacophony that could be heard within a building was certainly some kind of alarm.

 

Kasrjin stormed out of the inn, and upon practically tackling the door open was exposed to the frigid night. The snowfall had begun piling around the fortifications of the settlement, and the shine of the moon was barely visible through a thick canopy of relentless clouds, but what first received the Au Ra's attention was not the cold, but the shouting, the screaming...and the steely growls and the thrashing of wings. An Elezen, haphazardly dressed in chainmail and still fumbling to bring his blade out of its sheath, roughly shouldered himself past him. Kasrjin stared at the retreating back of the soldier before running into a loping sprint to chase after him.

 

The Xaela's instinct was not incorrect.

 

Atop the lower section of the battlements, near the rotating azure rock framed in heavy brass, was a group of creatures. Their bodies were covered in soot black plates and scales, thick yet pointed like the head of a spear. The heads of the beasts bore arrays of razor sharp fangs and were framed by spiny frills; narrow, reptilian eyes flickered to and fro. The mace-like tails were whipped around viciously, beating and battering the armoured warriors who attempted to get in range with their weapons. The scaled creatures--a quick head count counted nearly eleven of the beasts--fought with a dangerous intelligence. They were encircled around the brass base of the blue rock. Spear thrust and sword swings were met with a furious slap of the creature's wings, or a furious thrash from another's tail. The soldiers were in disarray; the narrow space of the battlement made it that much harder to manoeuvre with their weapons.

 

The shouting accompanied additional bodies rushing onto the battlement.

 

"Surround the aevis!"

 

"By the Fury, I think they're after the aetheryte!"

 

"How in the hells did they even get inside!?"

 

Every now and then, one of the creatures would pause to aggressively smash the club-like tail into the blue rock. The damage was not completely visible, but small shards of it evaporated into a fine mist before being swallowed by the winter cold.

 

Kasrjin watched the to and fro of combat; the soldiers would attempt to create a formation, but the relatively narrow path of the battlement made options limited. As soon as one of the creatures--the aevis--spotted a cluster, it and several more of its number would leap forward and make a slash of the long talons on its wings and a snapping of fangs. Even if it did no harm, the threat was enough to force the soldiers back.

 

The Au Ra, however, found himself beginning to run, only to stop short. These were dragons. He was considered, even erroneously, to be in association with them. What was the appropriate action in this context? Instinct demanded that he join the fray, but his mind admonished him for the thought. A hand leapt to the handle of his sword, but did not unsheath the weapon. Would he be considered a threat as well? If he were to assist the soldiers, was it not possible that he would be perceived as undermining them? Not only would that possibly be the death of him if they reacted violently, but it might also completely sever Kasrjin from any other contact. Contact that he grudgingly admitted that he needed in order to succeed in locating his objective.

 

The loud cranking of metal could be heard from the wall above him, followed by more shouting. "Fool! You'll destroy the aetheryte if you go blasting them with a Bertha!"

 

Kasrjin, for possibly the first time in his life, found himself faced with an uncertain dilemma. Here was a situation that he was built for. His training had him optimized for combat against men and beasts of all kinds. Though he was lacking in confidence in many things, there was one solid certainty--his ability to fight.

 

And yet, the circumstances had managed to rob him of even that.

 

His wrist twitched, chained by doubt. His hand flexed around the handle of the sword, stricken with the ambiguity of the circumstance. The Xaela was frozen in an odd position; he had stopped mid run and his legs were arranged in a long stride, as if time had stopped him in his tracks.

 

What was the appropriate action?

[Roen]

The metallic bellow was unmistakable.

 

The large bell was only ever rung for one thing. Dragons.

 

Roen bolted up in her seat. She had fallen asleep at the tables near the kitchens, having finally succumbed to fatigue while trying to glean whatever information she could about the Au Ra from thick, ancient tomes. There were not many books in Camp Dragonhead, not like the Observatorium, and what little literature she did find had no information on this warrior-like race. She had thought to just ask Edda on it, but after discovering that the noblewoman had hidden certain facts from her, the paladin thought it best to do her own research.

 

But the previous night spent in patrolling and searching for Blacke and Fenco, then followed by a full day’s journey on foot to Camp Dragonhead, even she could not deny the call of sleep. Once the question of Khadai and Edda’s freedom was put to rest, the weariness came crashing down upon her like a sudden tidal wave. Roen thought to only rest her head on the table for a moment, but it was not until bells later that she woke, the clangor of the alarm shattering her slumber.

 

Adrenaline allowed her to ignore the stiffness of her limbs after having dozed off in her armor; the paladin rushed outside with little delay. Her eyes widened at the scene near the aetheryte, counting the numerous aevis surrounding the massive stone. While knights and soldiers flanked them on both sides of the battlement, they were unable to fully engage them in such a limited space. Roen was able to spot Ser Tournes, shouting orders from one of the nearby parapet, waving off the Berta that was being swung around toward the conflict.

 

The moons that she had spent under the temple knight’s command still did not prepare her for these kinds of tactics. She was just hired on as a sellsword to provide an extra blade during a conflict. Where should she go? It was already crowded near the aetheryte. She spotted Bellows and Stray Oak up near the battlement stair, their weapons bared. She reached for her sword as she started forward in their general direction, when she spotted another figure in the snow.

 

Khadai too had ran out into the courtyard, and he was halfway in between the inn and the aetheryte crystal. He was standing still, his hand on his weapon but not yet drawn. He also was still in that ill-fitting dalmatica and slacks, nowhere near armored for battle. But the Xaela did not even seem to notice, or even mind the cold, for he was watching the scene intently. Hesitation was clear in his grim expression.

 

“Khadai!” Roen called out as she hurried to his side. “You do not have join in on this.” Her breaths were quick puffs of white steam in the night. “But you are a trained warrior. They… we could use your help.”

 

The paladin glanced back towards the aetheryte. “The aevis seems to be targeting the crystal, and I have never heard of them doing that before.” She paused, scanning quickly through the rampart. “But I am not certain how to approach this. There is limited space and the creatures know how to use it to their advantage.”

 

She flicked a glance back at the massive Au Ra. “Any ideas?”

[Nero]

He snapped his head towards her and gave a hard stare for several seconds. Torches were just now starting to be lit around the camp, but the oppressive winter gloom hung heavy in the air like a shroud, obscuring much. The contrast, however, simply made the clarity of the Xaela's gleaming emerald eyes that much more lucid. As soon as he registered the stern woman's query passed, the hesitation vanished: Kasrjin possessed a function and an objective. Everything else would fall into place later.

 

He glanced at the group of aevis. The knights, having been apparently roused by their superiors, formed into an organized shield wall on both sides. As the Dravanians used the close quarters to their advantage, so too did the armoured soldiers. Even so, the force with which the aevis whipped their mace-like tails was more than enough to stagger the formation as even with their fellows behind them and their feet planted in the ground, the impact threatened to split the metal bulwarks apart, and within the tight confines of the battlement, the aevis managed to easily bat away the threat of most weapons. Spears were splintered and their swords lacked the range.

 

"Break the encirclement," Kasrjin rumbled. He withdrew the massive greatsword over his shoulder, the loose harness flipping nearly parallel with his head to allow the weapon into his hands. "Only one opening is needed." Though, the Au Ra wasn't entirely sure of how to do that. The intimidating length of blued steel in his hands would, in theory, be relatively effective compared to the swords and spears of the knights, but another problem remained. With the sheltron formation on either side of the azure rock, it would be needlessly difficult for him to wade his way through in order to enter melee range with the aevis.

 

He glanced at the stern woman again. "I require the warriors to disperse. This is a stalemate. A momentary diversion to distract the dragons is necessary."

[Roen]

The paladin narrowed her eyes, scanning the battlement above. Ser Tournes was standing next to giant spear wielding dragonkillers on the eastern side of the aetheryte crystal, still shouting orders to the formation of knights surrounding the aevis. Her jaw set, she gave a quick nod to Khadai. “Follow me.”

 

Roen ran up the ramp, breaths coming quick. Idristan scowled when he saw her approach, but she could see that he was looking not at her, but rather the massive Xaela behind her. “Captain,” she said breathlessly. “We need to break the aevis’ barricade. This is a standoff and as more time passes, the more damage they can do to the aetheryte, if that is their intent.”

 

The Elezen’s sharp gaze returned back to her, his eyes narrowed. “They are using their size and the limited landing to their great advantage. What do you suggest, Deneith?”

 

The paladin looked from the temple knight to the dragonkiller next to him. “We need a moment’s distraction. We only need one opening.”

 

Ser Tournes arched a thin grey eyebrow. “We?” He glanced from her to the Au Ra once more, and this time she followed his gaze to the blue-steeled sword in the Xaela’s hands.

 

“He is a warrior in his own right, and we need all help we can get.” Roen said before the temple knight could object about needing a foreigner’s aid. “His sword has greater reach, and if the aevis are as unfamiliar with his kind as most are, perhaps it would serve as an element of surprise. Even if it just buys us a fraction of an opportunity…”

 

“Eugennoix!” Idristan drew the attention of the knight on the dragonkiller next to him. The knight answered with as stiff salute. “I trust your aim is one of the best.”

 

“Aye, ser!”

 

“Shoot one of the small spears down the rampart. Do not hit the aetheryte.”

 

“But… captain..?!”

 

“Can you do it, Eugennoix?” Ser Tournes held up a hand to cease all questions. “Aye or nay.”

 

“Aye, ser!” came the nervous answer, and the knight shouted to those around him, who ran forth to begin turning the giant ballista about. Soon the metal gears were creaking and turning as the deadly points of the imposing spears were lowered to parallel the stony battlement.

 

“All clear the way!” Idristan shouted into the biting wind. When the soldiers turned at his command, Roen could see their surprise in their sudden shift in stance. The phalanx quickly dispersed on the north side of the rampart to allow a path for the dragonkiller lance.

 

The paladin could also see stirring within the encirclement of the aevis as they too spotted the massive weapon pointed their way. They shifted a little, as if they were anticipating a possible fire, although they were more daring than the soldiers--as if they doubted that such a thing would be fired upon so close to the aetheryte.

 

They are frighteningly intelligent, Roen came to an alarming realization. They would recognize a ruse if this was one.

 

But it was not.

 

“Fire.”

 

As the temple knight gave the command, the dragonkiller answered with a powerful blast, one that tossed Roen’s hair to the side even though she was standing a few fulms away from it. One of the smaller spears shot out from its barrel and flew like lightning through the air. But the trajectory was slightly slanted downward, and wisely so, sending the missile skittering across the ground halfway down its path. Its metallic edges sparked and screeched against the stones, sending a few aevis along that side lurching away on instinct. Soldiers too quickly leaped away on both sides of the aetheryte, even though they had already safely moved well out of its path.

 

Eugennoix was true in his aim; the lance skidded along the narrow path between the edge of the parapet and the brass base of the aetheryte.

 

This was the moment’s distraction that Khadai had asked for. Roen glanced to where the Xaela was, to already find him gone.

[Nero]

It was momentary, but it was enough.

 

With the stalemate dispersed, the tall Xaela practically tackled his way through the stumbling formation of knights, greatsword in hand. Once he'd broken through the foremost line of armoured warriors, the blued steel began to whistle in the frigid night air with its swinging. Oddly, Kasrjin did not swing his blade directly at the aevis; instead, he was swinging the blade diagonally. With his first swing, the Xaela leaned forward as the sword made a slash from near his right foot until it was level with his left shoulder. Using the momentum of the first swing, he would then twist the blade so that the next diagonal swing went upward from the left side of his waist up to his right shoulder. The force behind each whistling whirl carried into the next, and as he continued the motion, the speed of Kasrjin's sword increased in its alternating upward strikes.

 

It was a tactic typical for fighting in narrow mountain corridors, and if his mind were not occupied with battle, he might have even found the relevance of his tactics amusing.

 

Now faced with an intimidating whirlwind of steel, the aevis now found themselves backing away. One would attempt to beat its heavy wings to stagger him, but the Xaela's surefootedness and the heavy length of the weapon were little dissuaded. Strikes from their tails were narrowly manoeuvred around or batted away by the sword, though the sheer violence with which weapon met appendage sent near debilitating shocks through the Au Ra's arm and threatened to send the weapon, cumbersome as it was, spinning away from his hand. Even so, he continued his advance.

 

One of the aevis impulsively made another spinning swing of its tail.

 

An opening.

 

Having finished one strike from left to right, Kasrjin very narrowly avoided the appendage--the hardened scales practically brushed against his nose--and, muscles burning from the sudden exertions, savagely swept the blade from right to left. The awkward angle with which the sword was swung didn't make it a clean sever, but nonetheless the momentum managed to smash through skin and scale and bit deep into the aevis' tail.

 

The Dravanian roared, and its fellows were caught in a brief moment of rage. And that was what the knights needed.

 

Unfazed by the dragonkiller and by the Au Ra suddenly wading into a line of aevis, the knights quickly reformed their formation and smashed into the dragons from the other side of the battlement. Now in range, the spears and swords made practised, hardened thrusts, aimed at weakened joints and gaps between adamantine. Though the soldiers held their formation, the fight quickly dissolved into a quick, frenzied brawl as they hacked down the last of the dragons.

 

Dragon blood now splashed the azure rock and its brass housings, both of which drifted serenely in stark contrast to the bloodied skirmish that had just taken place beneath it.

 

When the knights had jumped into the fray, Kasrjin ceased the swinging of his sword and practically leapt off of the battlement on the side, landing with a roll onto the snow below. He glanced at the dragonkiller that had provided the distraction, and though he could not see the stern woman, he nodded.

[Roen]

Roen let out a long sigh of relief.

 

Blood of the dragonkin dripped from her sword as her chest rose and fell with the exertion of the battle. Ser Tournes had initially held her back from running after Khadai when he had made his move. The paladin could not help but pause and watch the Xaela warrior as he swung his sword with expert ease, and with a quickness that belied his size. He drove the aevis back, his blue-steeled sword crashing violently against the aevis’ strikes. Roen flinched once when she thought his head would be cracked open by a whip of the aevis’ tail, but it was narrowly dodged and batted away.

 

Then the opening came and the rest of the knights rushed in. Idristan had released his hold on her shoulder as she too darted forward to help with the assault. From the corner of her eyes, the paladin could see the blue blur of the greatsword and its wielder as he leaped off the side of the rampart. Agile one, he. Roen made a silent note of the dexterity that was afforded to the tall warrior, likely the reason she found him in layers of leather armor rather than the thicker plate or chainmail that she preferred.

 

“Good work, Deneith.” The temple knight approached her from behind, a smile creasing the Elezen’s usually sharp features. “Your diversion proved successful.”

 

Roen glanced from the knight captain to the edge of the battlement where she had last saw the Xaela jump off. “It was Khadai’s idea, ser.”

 

“Mm,” the Elezen pondered out loud, following her gaze into the night, although neither of them were close enough to to the edge to spot the Au Ra. “Impressive.”

 

“Captain!” A familiar voice broke through their exchange as both of them turned to see Bellows running up from the other side. “Are you not suspicious that nearly a dozen aevis got within the walls without being detected?”

 

A long stream of white breath was released through the Elezen knight’s nostrils. “What are you saying, Bellows?”

 

“I’m just finding it mighty curious that all them dragonkin jus’ happened to sneak in on the same night that a certain foreigner was also ‘sleeping’ under the same roof.”

 

Roen rolled her eyes. “Did you not just witness him charging in, nearly getting killed, while creating an opening for the rest of us?” The paladin was about to continue when Ser Tournes stepped in between them, the tall Elezen towering over the Midlander mercenary.

 

“Enough.” It was his controlled tone that immediately quieted the Hyur. “This foreigner you have been accusing did take part in our offensive against the dragonkin, and as you and I plainly saw, risked his own life in doing so. I will not have you continue to accuse the man that I have already determined was free to go.”

 

“But captain...!” Bellows began.

 

“That will be all.”

 

The paladin shook her head as she watched Bellows plod away; the Midlander was still clearly resentful. Only a few other soldiers paid him any mind, but most were busying themselves as they were beginning to clear the dead bodies away from the aetheryte.

 

“You should get some rest, Deneith.” The Elezen knight gave her a scrutinizing look. “You look like you can use it.” He held up a hand before she could protest. “Your conjury is not needed this night. I believe most of the soldiers avoided grievous injuries. And yet even still, we have chirurgeons at hand. And you have another journey in the morn.”

 

Roen nodded absently, for her aching limbs leaden with fatigue would not let her do anything else. As the adrenaline of the battle was wearing off, her lack of rest in the last two suns was becoming painfully obvious to her dulled senses.

 

“Thank the Xaela on my behalf,” Ser Tournes said before turning away to organize the rest of the soldiers in their cleanup and repair.

 

The paladin turned, wiping the blood off her sword and sheathing it. Her descent down the rampart was not as quickly paced as her climb. But even as her steps grew heavy, there was a certain sense of gratification that filled her lungs. Despite all the suspicions cast his way, Khadai had set his apprehensions aside and aided those who feared his foreign nature. Roen was surprised to find herself as relieved as she was at the thought. Perhaps she could not fault Edda for protecting the Au Ra so. Was he simply just someone who was lost, who needed a little bit of guidance to find his way?

 

Roen spotted him standing in the middle of the courtyard, his massive sword still in hand. He seemed to be watching those that passed by him, his emerald eyes darting to and fro as if to take in the whole scene. Most were giving him a wide berth, especially with the dragon attack that had just ended, but a few wary glances were thrown in the Au Ra’s direction.

 

“Well done,” the paladin said as she walked up to him. While she did not smile, there was a hint of appreciation in her voice. “You are quite effective with that sword.”

 

Roen studied the odd blue-steel of the weapon in his hand briefly before she continued. “The knight captain extends his gratitude. I suspect that more suspicion would have been cast your way otherwise with this aevis attack. I am not certain how they even got in undetected.” She glanced over her shoulder towards the aetheryte and the milling of soldiers there. She frowned as she found herself scanning the crowd for Bellows. Should she tell Khadai that some were still holding onto their suspicions even after that display? Perhaps not here, and not now.

 

Drawing a breath, she turned back to the Au Ra with a tired expression. “But that is neither here nor there. You should get inside, you are not dressed for the night’s chill. We can talk about… reconciliation in the morn.”

[Banquo Viaquo]

 

“Kweh.”

 

“I would have imagined, sir, that you would be quite pleased to be home.”

 

“Kweeeeeh!”

 

“Home in a figurative sense, then. The land of your origin, assuming the reports of your pedigree are true. Towering rock formations, sweeping vistas of pristine white. Surely it must inspire some manner of awe, or at least respect. Subdued, muted respect.”

 

“Fweeeeeew.”

 

“Oh, now! There’s really no call to be carrying on like that, Chesterfield. We have a duty to perform, and for once, one specially requested of us. We mustn’t fuss so.” North sighed, patting the talkative chocobo’s neck with equal parts admonishment and reassurance. The old boy didn’t seem terribly bothered by the cold, but the snow itself seemed to baffle the bird, piling up on his beak until it was shaken off by twists and sneezes. Still, chatting with the chocobo seemed to improve its disposition, if only slightly. He had read somewhere, years ago, that you could say whatever you pleased to animals, so long as you kept your tone soothing and consistent. He had found the principle also largely applicable to certain members of the upper class. As a fellow beast of burden, however, Chesterfield made a fine traveling companion, and North accorded him the respect he was due.

 

Despite his apparent misgivings, the stocky bird plodded northwards. Sitting astride him, North looked startlingly underdressed compared to the locals, still in his Ul’dahn formalwear--if anything, Chesterfield was more equipped for the climate than he, draped in both bundled packages of clothing and insulated “barding” that looked suspiciously custom-tailored. Fallgourd, thankfully, was well-equipped to serve as the border settlement it was--some last-minute purchases swayed lazily under the bird’s saddle, the hempen bags flecked with snow. However, the Shroud was long behind them, and the Observatorium loomed in the white sky ahead.

 

He had not been this way in quite some time. Absently patting the chocobo’s neck, his eyes lingered on the tower--imagining the excitable Roegadyn, Five Reflections, ready to come bursting out of it, eyes aflame and spirit burning with academic furor as he’d triumphantly proclaim… that a voidsent finger bone had proved instead to be a toe, or perhaps that he’d finally uncovered the etymological origin of “malboro”, or a new theory that all sheep did not truly exist and were instead aetheric illusions. Five was an especially productive scholar in that he consistently, valiantly, and tirelessly sought answers to questions that nobody was particularly interested in in the first place. However, he had long since vanished from Coerthas--evaporated into the snow with his notes and his effects following the matter of Jameson Taeros. North could hardly blame him for fleeing at the signs of trouble on the horizon--had the Roegadyn still been in contact with him then, the valet would have severed all contact for the man’s own good, as he attempted to do with Roen Deneith and Mistress Callae. Still, he could not help but wonder at the scholar’s well-being. Five was eccentric, but had been a friend nonetheless, and one even willing to help North research the possibility of violating the natural laws of aether, as had Roen--however cautiously and reluctantly…

 

A whistle from Chesterfield snapped him from his reverie, and he hastily gave his companion a scratch behind the crest as they trudged onward. The gate to the Observatorium was just ahead. It would not do to keep the lady waiting any longer than she already had… but it would be quite a shame if he were to come all this way, and neglect to tie up the loose ends that still remained. The stones of Camp Dragonhead were just visible on the snowy boundary, but his mistress would doubtless be asleep at the moment. His eyes lingered on the tower. There were preparations that needed to be made first…

 

...that would, it seemed, have to wait. Chesterfield stopped, tweeting cautiously and shuffling in place, as a loud crack echoed through the mountains. “Easy, sir.” A white pup loped swiftly through the snow nearby, spooked by the sudden split in the wintry silence. He raised his eyes to Camp Dragonhead, squinting through the snow and darkness. Too loud for a simple accident, and too clear above the roar of wind… He learned forward, murmuring. “Haste, Chesterfield, if you please.” He had heard that, by means of ancient magic or tricks of Garlean technology, the word itself might under other circumstances invoke a sudden surge of actual, raw, physical speed. He had no such resources at his disposal, but Chesterfield raced forward all the same, snow crackling under the bird’s talons on the road to Camp Dragonhead.

 

By the time he reached the grand archway, it was clear that the majority of the chaos was over, but the sight that greeted him provided more questions than it did answers. He tightened his grip on the reins, slowing Chesterfield as he surveyed the camp with eyebrow raised. Weary soldiers, dragging aevis corpses by the tails down from the battlements--Gideon hid the briefest of winces as one was tugged down the stairs, its battered chin thudding on step after step. An ambush, perhaps, or a guardsman’s patrol gone awry; either way, despite the number of carcasses being toted down from the heights, he spied no civilized casualties. Whatever measures they had taken had been ruthlessly effective, though he had to wonder at the sight of the dragonkiller being carefully calibrated, turned inward to face the bare ramparts. What circumstances could demand firing such an instrument on the camp itself?

 

The camp was still fairly quiet. With no medics on the scene, and no sign of concern or panic from the triumphant sentries, it had likely been quite a contained incident. The mistress either had stayed removed from the fray, or missed the event entirely--which, the valet concluded, meant that this whole affair was not his business unless otherwise specified. He took one last glance out of the southern archway, the tower of academics barely visible through the sloping fog and the darkness. Personal affairs, as always, would and must come second to duties. He quietly showed Chesterfield to the camp’s chocobokeep, and made his way inside--with neither intent nor need to sleep, he set to work.

 

--

 

As light filtered down through the windows of Edda's room, the sounds of clinking silver and the gentle bubbling of poured tea made for a strange departure from the usual morning sounds. It seemed someone was in the room with her as she awakened--making his way quietly to her bedside table, and setting a tray of warm pastry and hot tea down alongside her; trying to work as quietly as possible. Edda stirred awake out of her potion-induced sleep, buried under the thick blankets of the bed, the top of her head barely visible. She poked her head out of the top of her blanket to look at the sound of motion with groggy eyes. For some reason, the prospect of someone being in her room in an unfamiliar place did not startle her as much as it should. She narrowed her eyes in an attempt to focus them. "M'jh-" She blinked. This was Dragonhead. "Gideon...?"

 

"Good morning, Miss." He spoke in low tones, as if trying not to wake her still. "You will be pleased to know that I arrived in quite short order, and with several days' worth of extra insulation. I could not imagine what led to a deficit in clothing in such wintry regions, but you may rest assured that I have come prepared to resolve the matter." He straightened. "Your breakfast is on the nightstand. I shall immediately begin laundering the items worn thus far in your journey."

 

Edda did not move, perfectly content to stay under the safe, warm blankets for just a while longer. Her eyes stayed trained on Gideon, becoming more adjusted to the cold air of the room, and the pull of consciousness. "That is alright," she said as he moved for her clothes. "I cleaned them last night. Spare yourself the trouble."

 

"It is no trouble, Miss..." Despite his words, he sighed, stopping--surveying her bedroom with a critical eye, as if looking for some way to make himself useful. "Is there anything in the merchant's stalls that Miss requires, perhaps? How may I best assist Miss?"

 

Edda sat up in bed and leaned forward, resting her hands on her lap. She had worn a pair of long, black gloves to bed, ones that came up to her forearms. She yawned lazily, before eyeing the breakfast. "I cannot think of anything." She frowned, and shivered. Her sleeping potion supply was now down to one, though it was not something that could be simply bought. "More wood for the fire, I suppose. It is dreadfully cold in the morning..."

 

"Perhaps Miss would be inclined to wear more comfortable sleeping attire?" He examined her thoughtfully for a moment. "I am told that native Coerthans have been known to craft what are essentially cocoons of blanket, that they might sleep more comfortably." Still, he bowed. "I shall see to the fireplace with all due haste, Miss. I will be happy to assist you with any matters of concern or luxury during your stay."

 

Edda frowned. "You need not push yourself so early on, and in this... cold." She shivered again, and swung her legs out of bed. Her sleeping clothes were more suited to the short chill of the Shroud than anything, and so she gladly reached for the hot tea, not bothering to cool it before taking a sip.

 

"No pushing is involved, Miss. Surely I have described my function before?" He set a folded cloth down  on the silver platter; for no obvious purpose other than presentation. "Is there truly no facility in which I may advise?"

 

Edda took a bite of the pastry, and chewed in a contemplative silence. "Roen is here," she said in a neutral tone, and looked up at Gideon, gauging his reaction.

 

He paused, for a fraction of a moment, then moved to the window--withdrawing the handkerchief from his own pocket and patiently rubbing at the frosty remnants on the glass. "Indeed, Miss? Are there any duties you would have me carry out on her behalf, then?"

 

"Not in particular." She paused and looked down at her breakfast. "I am not here for leisure. I imagine I will have great need of you in the next several suns. And yet, I would be happy if you took care of your own needs before my own. Do you understand?"

 

He sighed, with as much patience as he could display without it seeming facetious. "I will endeavor to toe said line, Miss, although my needs as ever remain quite negligible."

 

Edda looked at the man with a wondering expression. "Do you not wish to speak with her?"

 

"I have no particular feeling one way or the other, Miss." He continued to clean the window. The frost was not cooperating. "I presume if she had any desire to speak to me, she would have done so."

 

Edda looked down at her lap, as if scolded. "I see," she said quietly. "I take it you did not encounter the Au Ra upon your arrival?"

 

"Not any immediately remarkable, Miss." He sounded politely bemused, turning his head to look at her directly. "Somewhat more pressing was the commotion that drew me to the Camp with such haste in the first place. It seems there was some manner of incursion in the dark hours of the morning; a small band of draconic assailants, from what I could gather. I hastened to join the fray at the sound of cannonfire, but it seems the matter was already resolved by the time I reached the grounds. I did not pause to scrutinize each guardsman attending to the mess. I merely inquired as to your lodgings, settled in, and began preparing for your morning.” He scrutinized her for a moment, and then spoke, with as little guile as possible. “Has Miss a newfound acquaintance?"

 

"I am not sure I would categorize him as such," she said glumly. She finished off her pastry and began to make short work of her tea. "I have agreed to guide him to Ishgard. He has a tendency of poor behavior - though that is not quite his fault - and can be infuriatingly taciturn. I would appreciate whatever insight you may have to offer, when you meet him."

 

He smiled thinly. "I am not unfamiliar with such remarks, Miss. Perhaps the gentleman will be more forthcoming to a servant rather than a woman of Miss's distinction."

 

"On the contrary, I do not think he would be able to differentiate between us at all." A small smile tugged at her lips, but it was not one of happiness. "He is mostly ignorant when it comes to Eorzean procedures and culture. I do think it would be futile to educate him beyond the basics, but... I would know what his intentions are."

 

"Then I shall do what I may to attend to his customs, Miss, and thereby gain his favor in your stead." He pocketed the kerchief again, nodding to Edda. "If that is all, I will leave you to your morning preparations, Miss."

 

Edda nodded once, before flopping on her back and looking up at the ceiling. "Thank you," she said, and closed her eyes. She would not be able to sleep, but the fatigue of the past two days had begun to take its toll, and not even the rest from that night had fully assuaged the dull ache in her arms. "That... that should be all, yes," she murmured.

 

He watched her for another quiet moment, thoughtfully, then let himself out with a delicate smoothness. "I will be here if needed." The door clicked behind him.

 

--

 

“Miss Medguistl, I believe? I do beg your pardon.” The chef looked sidelong at him--the dapper Hyur, with an apron over a Sunsilk tuxedo and curious bundles in his arms, made for an odd visitor. “If I might make use of miss’s unneeded culinary tools, for the moment? You will hardly notice my presence, I assure you.”

 

“Do you waltz in and commandeer the stoves of an entire frontline camp so easily?” She frowned, watching him begin to set up at the spare boilers to her left, unwrapping produce and meat from the thin papers. “I am disinclined to allow amateurs free reign in my kitchen.”

 

“There I must take issue with miss.” As the soldiers outside began to stir in the morning sunlight, North began slicing the chanterelle mushrooms, focused and deft. “I think you will find I am no amateur.”

[Roen]

Things never bode well when the day sneaks up on me. I never oversleep.

 

Roen took the stairs two at a time, annoyance lengthening her stride. She fastened the buckles on her gauntlet as she tried to dismiss the haze that lingered over her thoughts. She'd awakened from her bed to realize that bells had already passed since the sunrise; she had never been a late riser for as long as she could remember, but recently, she had been waking feeling more exhausted every sun.

 

Crossing the courtyard, she saw that Goldwind already being saddled up. Roen paused as she spotted Bellows near the stables, overlooking the preparations for her journey. It was strange to see him aid in such things, but when he gave her a mock salute with an unpleasant smirk, she could see that he was eager to see her go.

 

The paladin did not give the sellsword another moment of thought. Her focus needed to be on the journey to Ishgard that awaited. Before that, she needed to speak to Edda. She felt a slight pinch of dread as she approached the noblewoman’s quarters, recalling the conversation with Khadai the night before. Even if she was looking out for her friend’s best interest, it still did not sit well with her that she was trying to decide for other people.

 

But surely, Edda could not actually want to continue on in this journey...

 

“Come in,” came the soft response after Roen knocked on the door.

 

The paladin entered to find Edda sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair still loose and uncombed since her slumber. She was buttoning up her gown, a grey toned coat with tailored sleeves. Completed with black gloves and black leggings, the woman looked every bit the aristocrat Roen knew her to be despite her disheveled hair.

 

“Did you sleep well?” Roen inquired quietly.

 

"I always sleep well," Edda said softly as she clasped the last button into place and straightened. She swept her hair neatly over her shoulder. "What can I do for you?"

 

"I thought we could speak alone for a bit," Roen said in a neutral tone. "I am not certain how much opportunity we will have on the road for some privacy."

 

"That is fine. Of course. What is on your mind?"

 

Roen pursed her lips in hesitation at first, not knowing what subject to breach first. She took a few more steps to stand in front of the woman. "First, you are free to go. The knight captain deemed yesterday's affair resolved. He sees no reason to suspect either of you. And he has allowed me to accompany you both to Ishgard." She glanced over her shoulder toward the door. "I... returned last night with the sword. My apologies that I tried to wake you. I am glad for your rest. I did return the sword to your companion."

 

"I see. That is fortunate to hear." Edda rested her hands on her lap, her thumbs tracing over her fingers, shifting between each one in a seeming rhythm. "That your Captain was able to see reason speaks well for Dragonhead." She looked up from her hands at Roen, a slight tug at the corners of her lips. "Are you displeased with his decision?"

 

The paladin blinked, clearly not expecting that. "Displeased? Why would you ask that?"

 

"Do you wish to go to Ishgard?"

 

Roen shifted her gaze, looking to an absent point on the wall behind Edda. Her answer to that had vacillated ever since the idea was proposed. "I have no opinion about it either way." That was not quite the truth. "I have been to Ishgard multiple times now... so I am familiar with the route. Both of you could use a guide."

 

Edda exhaled slowly, humming through it in a deep tone. "That is true. I for one am most pleased by the news - I am sure Khadai will be as well." She lifted her left hand and held it up against the dim morning light now streaming through the window. Fingers spread, the woman glared at the back of her hand for a moment, as if willing herself to look through it. Her eyes returned back to Roen, her arm still outstretched. "You, however, seem rather listless. Did something happen?"

 

The paladin shifted in her stance, fighting the reluctance that held her thoughts hostage. Was this not the reason she came to speak to Edda after all? "I asked you last eve, how long you planned on traveling with Khadai." Roen exhaled, raising her eyes steadily to the noblewoman. "I asked him to find another guide in your stead."

 

Edda lowered her outstretched arm slowly, back to rest the hand in her lap. She bowed her head, her expression sobering slightly. "Ah. I thought you might. If not you, then him. One of you, either way. And now it is both, yes?"

 

Roen knitted her brow in thought. "I am no longer of the mind that he is dangerous or... suspect in his motives.” She canted her head, as if to try and glean Edda’s mood. The woman’s enigma was something that Roen had come to accept long ago, the noblewoman always having her mask of polite decorum in place. And yet they had always spoken with honesty in the past. “Serving as a guide through a land beleaguered by war… it is not something I thought would appeal to you."

 

"Hmph.” Edda scoffed, and looked to her left to glare at the wall. "It does not appeal to me, no. A great many things do not appeal to me - but I do what I must. I know the limits of my own abilities far better than anyone else. This was something I chose to do." She looked back up at Roen with a stony expression, eyes searching. "Yet I am not so brazen as to intrude where I am not wanted. Why even see me as far as Ishgard? I am perfectly capable of returning to Gridania now, on my own."

 

That made the paladin pause, staring back at the woman. It took her a moment before she could respond, and it was with a rueful twinge to her lips. "Ah. Then you have my apologies, Edda. It is not your intent that I doubted, nor do I seek to deprive you of what you want to do. But..." She sighed, her shoulders dipping slightly. "I did not want to see you come to harm because of your good intentions." Roen paused, recalling the conversation from the night before. "Khadai seems to be on an exploratory journey of his own. He honestly does not know where he is to head next. How long did you intend to stay with him?"

 

"As long as it took to discern what his intentions were," Edda said evenly. "Whether they be for good, or not."

 

"I asked him the same. His purpose for being here. He does not know." The paladin exhaled, her expression softening. "But last night he did join in the offensive against an aevis attack. After watching him rush into battle to help those who were threatening to arrest him, I no longer think him to hold ill will against those here. Despite his bloody history."

 

"You seem to trust him a great deal now." The noblewoman observed simply. Though her words seemed unfazed, a shadow was cast over her expression, her face darkening.

 

"Nay, I still know him not. But he seems to be willing to answer questions with candor even if it may implicate him." Roen looked back at Edda, her eyes slightly narrowing. "He even told me that he killed three masked assailants in the Shroud. Something that he suspected, you came across."

 

"Yes, I did," Edda responded in an even yet guarded tone.

 

"You hid that fact... for his sake?"

 

"Mostly my own."

 

"Your sake?" Roen canted her head. "You had come across them after the fact."

 

"And?"

 

The paladin’s expression hardened. The shift in Edda's mood with her short taciturn answers were obvious. Roen could not help but mirror it. "And nothing. It is done." Her own words were clipped. "I have not spoken to my knight captain on the matter, nor will I. You witnessed the aftermath, if you feel that what you found warrants further investigation, then I will leave that in your hands."

 

"It will be handled, of that you have my assurance." Edda paused, and studied her expression. "Would you have preferred me to put him to the sword?"

 

"Nay. Not after..." Roen shook her head. "I do not doubt your intentions, Edda. I just wished that you would have at least been honest with me." The paladin did not want to give voice to her doubts about the woman, nor the sting she felt when she had suspected more duplicity. "Never mind. Perhaps I presumed too much."

 

"It would have served little purpose at that point in time, other than to further your own doubts of him. Had that occurred, the series of events that followed may not have gone as smoothly as they did. There is little cause in withholding the truth - but there is a time and place for it."

 

Roen’s frown only deepened at Edda’s response. A part of her knew it was a reasonable course of action and yet…

 

Two knocks sounded from the door. Roen ignored it.

 

"Very well,” the paladin turned back to Edda with her stony mask back in place. “You can discuss with Khadai whether you intend to continue on with him. That is up to you. I will not presume more than I already have."

 

"The decision has already been made, Roen. Surely you realize that." Edda spoke softly, then turned to the door. "Come in."

 

The door opened to admit a familiar figure of a man, a well dressed valet by his uniform with dark well trimmed hair framing his face. He entered with a small tray--it contains two metal mugs, snow-stained, but with steam rising from them. He strode past the two women to set the tray down on the table first before inclining his head politely to the both of them.

 

"Mistress and Miss," Gideon said evenly.

 

Roen stared, eyes wide at the man.

 

"I have prepared a bracing drink using the kitchens downstairs; a heated brew infused with chocolate. The original recipe called for a dusting of kukuru powder, which the serving staff are sadly lacking. I have improvised as necessary." Gideon gave another bow toward Edda. "I was informed Mistress was entertaining company; the second mug is yours, Miss, should you wish to take it."

 

The paladin was frozen still as the valet bowed to her. No words came.

 

"Thank you, Gideon," Edda said softly.

 

"Dishes have been prepared for yourself and the assorted occupants and guardsmen of the camp. Is there anything further you require?"

 

Edda only shook her head at Gideon, before rising and taking her mug of hot chocolate. She sipped it twice before leaving the room without a word, and shut the door quietly behind her.

 

Roen stared at the door in silence.

.

"Very good, Mistress." Gideon said to Edda's closed door, apparently accustomed to doing so. He glanced to the paladin for a moment, inclined his head politely then also turned for the door.

 

"When did you get here, Mister North?" the paladin finally blurted, her voice hoarse.

 

Gideon turned back around with a nod, his movements smooth and practiced. "I arrived in the early hours of the morning, Miss, shortly in the aftermath of whatever incident concerned the aevis horde. As matters seemed to be under control, I inquired as to the particulars of Miss' lodgings, and made myself appropriately useful."

 

Roen swallowed. She found herself staring at the distant wall, not looking towards the valet. Seeing him here, it had unnerved her. "I see. Are you going to accompany Miss Edda to Ishgard then..?" They were just words to fill the silence.

 

"I am duty-bound to accompany my mistress wherever she may require my services, Miss." The man’s response was placid and unaffected as ever.

 

"Then… you are satisfied in her occupation?" These were questions she had wanted to ask Edda. One of many things the paladin had wanted to broach the woman about before it was curtailed. Roen had entrusted Gideon’s employment and safety to the noblewoman before she disappeared. Before she had sought out Nero at Aleport. Before so many things happened.

 

But now as she found herself standing here before the man who had been her confidant and source of comfort through most of all that happened, Roen could not bare to meet him in the eyes. Nor exchange any other words than pleasantries. Was it because aside from Kiht, Gideon was the only other person that Roen had shared the news of Nero’s death? Not the manners in which he died, but with Nero’s involvement in the death of Gideon’s former masters, it was something that Roen felt at least the valet deserved to know.

 

"Miss is occasionally reluctant to assign me any actual duties, insisting that I put my own needs first. Aside from this eccentricity, I am managing." Roen barely heard the words. Gideon's expression could only be described as politely blank.

 

"...Did... Did you get my letter..?"

 

"The one heralding your disappearance? Indeed so, Miss."

 

"You need not worry about... avenging your former masters." She set her jaw, and despite her attempts to stay neutral on the matter, her fingers were curled into tight fists by her side. "At least... on one account."

 

"I am sorry to hear, Miss." Gideon bowed, but this time, he remained bent for a couple of seconds longer - not an expression of servitude but apparent solemnity.

 

It comforted her not. "...are you?" She shot him a look, not liking the stirring of emotions within. "Is this not what you wanted?"

 

"Wanted, Miss?"

 

Her throat felt constricted, and she felt anger rising from within. She was not sure who it was directed at. "There was a time you wanted death brought to those who were responsible for what befell your masters. This... is a good thing... aye?" Her words were turning sharper as she continued. “The end to a murderer. A violent extremist."

 

"It is true, Miss, that I sought revenge for those who had destroyed what is close to me. If you recall, Miss, I learned of Lazarov's culpability after having already known that he was a significant person to you. Though I did despise him, my desire to specifically see him dead lasted seconds." His voice softened. "I am... sorry that events transpired in such a way as to cause Miss distress. I am sure there was... little other course."

 

Roen stared at him, her lips pressed tightly upon each other. "He is dead, Mister North. You no longer need to spare my feelings about the man."

 

"As you say, Miss. I am merely clarifying. What I wanted proved to be something else."

 

Her head dipped low, her hair falling over her eyes. A long pause of silence fell between them. "What you wanted. What he wanted. Must we know these things too late?"

 

"My intent, Miss, was to remove myself from the equation, that my desires might not have undue effect. I imagine I sought something similar to what Miss pursued, though."

 

The paladin shot him a dark look. "What I pursued was a hopeless wish. Born of .... 'singular devotion'... Mister North. It brought me nothing but pain and regret. I just... I just need you to tell me that at least you... at least someone is better off for this."

 

"That, at least, is unquestionable, Miss." He looked at her, expression still calm and assuring. "But would you resent them for it?"

 

"What if I did?"

 

“I have long said that I am no man to judge, Miss, and I am happy to serve. If you require a vessel for blame, I would happily volunteer."

 

Her face twisted with indignation. "That is not... that is NOT what I..." She felt herself tremble. She hated the fact that his very presence shattered the composure that she had been working so hard to maintain. It was as if the last many moons spent on constructing her walls and tending to the wounds that were now starting to show even the barest hint of closure, were all being undone. Was she so unprepared to see him?

 

"Miss' hot chocolate is getting cold." He observed quietly.

 

Her eyes flared with that, and she spun to snatch up the cup of hot chocolate and hurl it across the room. "Do think that matters?!" she screamed. The metal cup bent as it crashed violently against the stone brick, the hot chocolate then spilling to the floor and staining the rug.

 

Gideon said nothing, for a moment, just watching her patiently. Then after a pause, the valet cleared his throat. "Normally, that is asked as a rhetorical question, Miss."

 

Roen crossed the room again, long angry strides bringing her before the butler. "Are you going to lecture me now? On the ins and outs of rhetoric? Or will you simply bring me more cups of hot chocolate?" Her face burned, her voice shook. "Do you think I feel anything but resentment seeing you here?" That was not the truth, and yet those were the angry words that tumbled forth.

 

Gideon raised a single eyebrow but said nothing.

 

"My disappearance was intentional. I wanted nothing that reminded me of--" She stopped herself, shaking her head. She did not want to even say his name. A part of her knew that this was all in frustration, that Gideon was not deserving of any of it, but she did not care. "You being here… it only brings back all the things I do not wish to think of."

 

When he said nothing, standing still with his hands behind his back, she spun away from him. "So do not stand there and be some willing martyr. I am furious, Gideon. All I feel is regret and... rage.. and..." She bowed her head. "And I am tired of... of blaming myself."

 

Gideon still said nothing, even though his full attention was upon her.

 

Roen spun back around, finding his silence and his serene demeanor absolutely infuriating. "Say something, Gideon. Tell me I am a fool. Or that my anger is misplaced. Or that it will fade. Or my sorrow is unjustified. Or..." Her eyes darted around the room frantically, as if something, anything would give her the answers that he would not. "Say SOMETHING."

 

"I am not in the habit of dispensing false information, Miss." Gideon sighed and approached her. He closed his eyes for a moment in thought but when he opened again, he spoke slowly and with clarity. "I am no man to judge the validity of your feelings. Nor can I presume commonality between our having lost someone, blaming oneself, or being consumed with any given emotion, whether joyful or painful. If the sight of me makes you seethe, then I shall endeavor not to inconvenience you. Otherwise, I can only continue to support you as I have done in the past, providing small comforts where they may ease your mind, if briefly." His gaze fell on the hot chocolate trailing between stones. "I cannot in good conscience tell you, Miss, that the pain will fade. What I can tell you is that it may be wielded."

 

A quiet gasp escaped her lips, her eyes now burning and glistening. She took one step back away from him, stunned by his words.

 

Gideon turned from her and went to where the metal mug lay on the floor. Setting it upright against the wall, he began to scrub the floor.

 

"I..." she whispered after a long pause. "I cannot breathe... Gideon." Auburn locks fell heavily before her eyes as she stared at the floor and her vision blurred. "There are suns where I cannot... breathe...."

 

The valet rose, and taking a slow breath, he moved closer to her side. He removed a handkerchief from his coat and lightly dabbed at her cheeks and eyes. “...Yes, Roen."

 

Roen pressed her lips tightly upon each other to stifle the sobs that wanted to rise. She bowed her head, her forehead just coming to rest against his chest. She stayed there for a long quiet moment, unmoving. Gideon’s hand froze mid-dab, just hovering. But soon enough the paladin gathered herself and straightened, her hands swiping at her cheeks. She squared her shoulders and brushed her hair away.

 

“I should get ready to go,” she said hoarsely, taking one step back from him.

 

Gideon inclined his head, stepping back to their appropriate distance. "...Will you not eat first, Miss?"

 

"I am not hungry. I have things to prepare. You should look to Edda." Roen shook her head and turned for the door, her last few words murmured under her breath. "My apologies for the..." She gave a sidelong glance to the wall and the stain there, but her gaze continued to drift to the man behind her without truly looking at him.

 

Gideon cleared his throat somewhat guiltily. "I... DID prepare Miss's favorite. I thought the dish particularly complementary to these more wintry climes...?"

 

That made her pause at the door, blinking. There was a sad tug to her lips as she looked over her shoulder at Gideon. Ever providing the small comforts… It only made her feel worse. The paladin shook her head, her forelocks falling loose again before her eyes. Without saying another word, she abruptly left the room, intent on heading out to the courtyard.

 

But when she reached the doors that led outside, Roen paused. She stood still for a moment with her hand laid against the wooden grains, before she turned away from the exit and headed towards the kitchens.

[Nero]

Following the altercation between the knights and the aevis, Kasrjin had made it to retreat to his quarters with haste. The Dravanians had been slaughtered with a furore that was pointedly unconducive to the Xaela maintaining his good health while in Coerthas, and so he'd resolved to spend the remainder of the dawn in his room if at all possible. The mind-numbing inactivity, however, eventually proved itself to provide its own brand of exhaustion, and after what seemed like years of no stimulation save for the occasional flicker from the design he'd carved onto the wall, the Au Ra had practically barrelled out of the inn with naught but his borrowed clothing and the sword in its harness, strapped to his back.

 

A heavy fur coat that roughly matched his proportions had been conveniently left on a coat rack in the bottom floor. The sound of fighting had driven the inhabitants to seek refuge within their homes, and so the inn had stilled with silence. Kasrjin glanced at his surroundings briefly before snatching the coat with little hesitation. Though the cold did not bother him in the slightest, it was his hope that it would mask his silhouette somewhat such that at a distance he may be mistaken for one of the Elezen. The Au Ra's scaled tail caused the rear of the coat to jut out awkwardly somewhat, but a part of him hoped no one would notice.

 

Kasrjin's particular need to avoid other individuals--he had neither the time, energy, or ability to sort out the misunderstandings when they inevitably arose--took him to the fortifications of the settlement. The muted gray brickwork of the walls contrasted with the landscape silvered with snow, dotted with boulders and evergreen trees. The battlements were gratefully yet confusingly empty; he could only assume that seeing as how the aevis had managed to infiltrate the settlement itself, the knights were attending to other points of entrance such that the walls no longer needed constant vigilance.

 

He picked a particular direction and wandered the walls. Despite being somewhat ill-fitting, the sizeable fur coat did well from shielding him from snowflakes and wind, and were the Xaela not painfully aware of how far from home he was, he might have called this walk serene. Kasrjin's movement came to an abrupt halt, however, when he spotted another silhouette standing at the edge of the crenellations, perilously close to the periphery of the parapets. It took some time for his eyesight to fully focus and recognise the figure--her hair had changed, and he hadn't exactly been able to pin down other distinguishing features--as his erstwhile guide, staring into the distance.

 

How exactly did one initiate conversation here? Kasrjin wished to ask Edda a great deal of questions, but something within him that may have been instinct told him that now was an inappropriate time to make such inquiries. Much of him twinged at frustration in the Western continent's circuitous and labyrinthine social practices; every person he had met here so far seemed to have the resilience of a snowflake or a drop of rain, and the boundaries and restrictions of their conversational conventions felt stifling indeed.

 

Faced with a lack of options, he stepped closer so as to be heard above the frigid breeze and called out to her. "Edda." It was awkwardly voiced, halfway between a command and a question, with the uncertainty of his tone being matched only by the certainty that he had likely made another inappropriate assumption.

 

She did not seem to be startled as a voice called out to her. Perhaps she had expected it, but from who exactly was anyone's guess. Edda turned to look over her shoulder at the sound, her brow creased in frustration. Her eyes were red and swollen, from the cold no doubt, her teeth chattering in the exposed cold of her current location. "Khadai," she managed to croak out. It had an inflection that also sounded like a question, and she did not say any more.

 

He tilted his head.

 

"...are you feeling sickness?" A part of Kasrjin knew that the query was a little superfluous, and another part genuinely thought that she might have become stricken with some manner of ailment.

 

"No," Edda responded matter-of-factly. She turned to face him. Despite the precarious location of which she stood, with a drop of nearly a hundred fulms below her, she did not seem at all concerned. Her lips pursed, and she looked at the Xaela searchingly, as if expecting him to say more.

 

Kasrjin returned her yearning expression with a puzzled one of his own. Ordinarily, he would have expected her to have turned away from him, or to ask him what he wanted. The fact that she didn't follow up with any prompt to which he might have responded made him uncomfortable. This was a...cue for him to speak? If it wasn't, he expected that he would be corrected rather testily.

 

"You are...distressed?" It sounded more like a question to himself than to her, as if Kasrjin were guessing the state of tomorrow's weather. And in a way, he was.

 

"I am perfectly fine," the Hyur replied. A sniffle. "Naturally." She looked to the battlements behind him, as if looking for someone to be with him, or putting him up to this. "What is it?" Her tone was terse, and though Kasrjin had expected it, the slight sharpness in her response disappointed him somewhat. He could only reasonably guess that he'd failed in responding to her cue appropriately.

 

And her response was...not helpful. The Au Ra's confusion deepened. Her demeanor was not one of contentment, and yet she insisted that it was. He shifted uncomfortably, tacitly aware that it would be exceedingly difficult for him to judge what was and wasn't an appropriate act in this situation. "...I possess queries. But you do not appear..." a pause and a struggle with vocabulary. "...at ease."

 

A stiff smile appeared almost reflexively on Edda's face. She reached up to wipe at her eyes with a sleeve, and took a deep breath. "What are your questions?

 

At least she is being straightforward. Kasrjin shifted his weight from one foot to another, arms straight down at his sides. "Are you uncomfortable with the arrangements of our agreement?" he asked rather bluntly.

 

"What exactly do you mean?"

 

Grateful that the subject of their conversation was now underway in a relatively direct manner, he crossed his arms, more to wrap the heavy sleeves of the borrowed coat around him than as a social gesture. "You do not appear interested in utilizing my abilities. Are my terms of our transaction unnecessary?"

 

"I am interested," Edda responded coolly. "I have been. I see no reason to rush, however." A pause. She looked hard at the man, studying his reaction closely. "And what of you? Are you dissatisfied?"

 

The Xaela shook his head, sending the ragged green fringes and ponytail to disturb the gentle snowfall that had begun. "No. I wished for you to bring me to this region known as Coerthas. You have done so. You are no longer obligated to me." He straightened his posture. "I would know if you intend to travel to...Ishgard, now that the requirements of your duties to me have been fulfilled. I am still pledged to your service. I would know of your destination."

 

Edda looked away and smirked, but it was one of clear discontent. "What a web you two have spun." She took one step forward and held it, before dropping off the ledge of the battlement. There was a carelessness in her step, and she stared up at the sky as she walked forward. "I had intended to accompany you as far as need be, to see whether or not you were worthy of my trust, and the job I had in mind. Naturally, I am not the best of guides, but the kind of protection I can afford is not one easily found." She looked to him now from a distance, her expression cold and distant.

 

"You - however. And Roen. This does not suit either of you, and it is now known to me that you would have me leave, that you two may continue on in peace."

 

A frown split Kasrjin's face. "I do not possess such intention. Do not ascribe it to me. It is true that the stern woman wished that I part company with you. That is, and was not, an appropriate request. I am compelled to fight for you. I cannot do so away from your side."

 

The Hyur frowned. "And were I to release you from such obligation?"

 

"You are not fit to do so. I refuse your generosity." It was a flat, almost immediate response. "Our agreement was established as a transaction. Until the agreed upon services have been exchange, it is not done, nor shall it be."

 

"And who are you to determine whether or not I am fit to do so?" Edda's voice rose in volume, and she turned to face the Au Ra fully, as if in an attempt to make herself appear bigger. "Why would you refuse me now? Roen had made it sound as if you were more than receptive to the idea."

 

Kasrjin's frown twisted with bewilderment. "It was the stern woman's suggestion that I refuse your generosity. I agree with the idea. To accept your services and fail to give my own is..." he pursed his lips. "...erroneous. I do not know what has been told to you through, but I was not represented accurately. You attempt to break off our agreement out of...charity. I do not accept. Nor shall I. Under the terms of our agreement, you are my charge, and I am bidden to fight for you. Do not confuse the circumstances further." His own tone rose somewhat in austerity.

 

"If anything, you seem to be the one who is confused." She shook her head. Discontent was clear on her face, though not necessarily directed at Kasrjin. "Roen admitted her thoughts to me, and she is not wrong - beyond this point, I am useless to you as a guide. You consider my offer to be one of charity. Do not misunderstand. I offer for your sake, that you might continue your quest unburdened."

 

He shook his head again. "You speak contradiction. You claim your offer is not of charity, yet you offer for my sake alone without desiring compensation. This cannot be so." His stern frown deepened with uncertainty. "For what reason do you continue to refuse the terms of our agreement, if my function is not inadequate? If my capabilities do not meet your standards, then I have erred, and mistakenly offered what I believed to be equitable terms where there were none."

 

The Xaela straightened his posture again. "I am bidden to fight for you. If you believe me to be incapable of fulfilling that duty, then provide your reasoning so that I may disagree with it." The careful listener might have noted the barest hint of pride in his challenge.

 

Edda took a step forward. "Your function is more than adequate," she said quickly. "I am not here, however, to stand in your way. I am no warrior - do you not agree? These were the terms to our agreement yes, but is it truly your wish to lug me around as dead weight?"

 

Kasrjin's silence was long and pronounced, and it was clear that he was deep in thought. Even with the wind picking up in speed somewhat, the occasional errant flake burying itself in his mane of hair or upon the obsidian scales, his eyes shimmered a viridian sheen. The more he thought about his explanation, the less coherent it seemed, but it also seemed to be the best option when it came to justifying his mentality. The seconds of blank air stretched into uncomfortable minutes which felt like hours.

 

"Very few among those with whom I am from are warriors." He spoke slowly, deliberately, as if every single word were handpicked and cleaned from the arbitrary slurry that was his vocabulary. "Yet they too possess relevant function."

 

"People cannot survive with soldiers alone. There must be...artisans. Healers. Leaders. Educators. Traders." He gestured towards her. "Your body cannot survive with only muscle and bone. It must have mind, heart, blood, eyes, mouth, and lungs. On their own, these things possess no value. Only when they are placed within that system are they able to function efficiently."

 

"You speak the truth. You are not a warrior. That does not mean that you are unneeded. It only means that you are needed. You are more necessary than I, who can only perform that with which I possess capacity for."

 

Another pause. "You are not as I. Therefore, I am to rely on you, for without those of differing functions, I cannot adequately perform my own."

 

Kasrjin shifted uncomfortably. He almost felt physically ill from speaking so many words in the foreign language in such a short amount of time. It was a veritable speech on its own, but to the Xaela it was if he'd spent a straight fortnight doing naught but reciting litanies.

 

He only hoped that he managed to convey his idea without ambiguity.

[Edda]

Khadai’s words were filled with enough weight that Edda felt as if she could hardly breathe. She looked away from him, a look of frustration crossing her features. Though his thoughts had been clear and succinct, a shadow of doubt lingered in her mind. Never before had anyone said such a thing to her. The possibility of him lying crossed her mind – surely he was capable enough to never have to rely on her, as was anyone else. Yet Khadai was no liar. If anything, he was too honest, nearly brazen with the harsh truth that often accompanied his words. He did not seem one for pity either, but the fear of such still spread through her.

 

Edda waited some before responding. “And what of Ishgard?” She asked slowly. “What will you do there? Leave me, if you so deign to travel to the lands beyond? If so, that is…” She trailed off and shook her head, looking at the snow collecting in the joints between the stone construct. It is what? A question she herself could not answer.

 

“My intention within Ishgard is to gather relevant information. I cannot do so without one to interpret that which I do not understand. Yet my first intention is to fulfill the terms of our transaction. If you are not to be destined for Ishgard, then I shall postpone my own assignment until such a time that I am called upon you to fight in your stead.”

 

The woman snapped to attention and looked at Khadai quickly, surprise clear on her face. “Wh-what? No…no. That will not be necessary. I am not so selfish.”

 

He stepped forward aggressively, befitting his martial demeanor. “I am to fight in your stead. I am bidden to offer my body and abilities. Do you intend to continue denying this?”

 

The height of the Xaela was much more apparent as he stepped closer. It was an intimidating sight, and the hairs on the back of her neck bristled in nervousness. Edda glared up at him and leaned forward, as if to resist him. “I am not denying your function! I have not denied it at all! Why must you persist in this way? Are you so eager for bloodshed, so eager to uphold your end of the bargain that you might be rid of me? If that is all you want, I could just as easily send you out to kill a pack of wolves at my whim, and consider the contract complete!”

 

She seethed, her face heated from anger and embarrassment. “And yet that is not… Not what I want. What I need…” She sighed, her voice considerably lower, her shoulders sagging.

 

“To partake of your service without offering my own in return is wrong,” he said sternly, almost patronizingly. “It is theft. You would bid me to steal something of value from you without repercussion or compensation.” A gloved hand reached up to scratch at his head near his horns. His vexation was clear. “And if I am to hunt wolves for you, then hunt I shall. But I am aware that you possess a specific task in mind that you have not deigned to reveal to me.”

 

Edda felt at a loss for words. Dealing with one as straightforward as Khadai was a tiring experience, one she was certainly not used to. “…Yes, that is so,” she said after a time, her voice no longer bearing the ire from before. “And yet, I know not when. Do you not see, Khadai? It could be in the next few suns, several moons from now, even a cycle. I do not… wish to burden you so, nor anyone else, with such a thing.

 

“To live and breathe with the constant threat of being called away looming over your head, not knowing when… It is unpleasant.” She looked up at him closely. There was a look in her eye that bore sympathy, empathy even, at living a life not quite one’s own.

 

Khadai shifted again. “I am not unfamiliar with the sensation, nor do I find it unwelcome. You have a task. You yourself are not capable of accomplishing this. We have entered an agreement wherein each of us obtains a service from the other that is beneficial to our intentions.”

 

His eyes hardened into a stern gaze. “It is not your place to judge whether or not I am to be compelled to your service. It is already done. Do not ascribe the proclivities of this continent to me. They are not valid. You will utilize me as our transaction demands. There will be no further discussion.”

 

The woman made a small noise in the back of her throat that sounded either argumentative or acquiescence. It was hard to say. Such lip and pushiness from one who claimed to be obligated to her was most foreign. Her father would surely have burst a vessel at the sight of her being browbeaten into submission by some foreign barbarian, and Edda knew that she should find her situation humiliating. And yet, the assurance he possessed came only as a relief, and somewhere deep in her heart burned only with happiness.

 

“You are difficult,” was all Edda managed to choke out, and she looked away, her face flushed red.

 

The man tilted his head. “I believe myself to be within the boundaries of ease.” The disagreement was spoken matter-of-factly.

 

She looked back at him out of the corner of her eye, an eyebrow raised. “Perhaps in your eyes. You come from a different world.” She sighed. “So often am I used to being assured that those pledged to me will obey me without question.”

 

He tilted his head in the other direction. “I am only of use in my capacity as a warrior because I am an individual with thought, and not a thoughtless storm.

 

“If you are to utilize my abilities, then I am duty-bound to inform you in how you may most efficiently utilize those abilities. It is permissible for you to convey inefficient commands when you lack awareness of my capabilities, and should you do so, I shall endeavor to correct you. None are perfect.” It was barely perceptible, but the slightest corner of his lip almost curled somewhat at the statement.

 

Edda thought on this for a long minute. For a brief moment, a look of relief washed over her face, and her expression softened. “Y-yes, I suppose that is true.” She hesitated, and frowned at herself. It still did not seem quite fair to her, for the man to be bound to one so insignificant as her. “…I am sorry I cannot be of more use to you. And yet, I would see this through. You need not force yourself to explain them to me – but I would see what your intentions are.” Her voice was nearly a whisper toward the end, a lingering shame pervading her words.

 

“I do not understand. Clarify the contexts in which I am to possess intentions for you to function.”

 

She flushed at his misunderstanding. Still, the blame lay with her for not being more concise. “That is not—not at all what I meant. I only mean to know the extent of your purpose here in Eorzea.” A pause. “Perhaps ‘intentions’ was not the right word, as you yourself mentioned you were still unsure. I only… I only seek to take responsibility for my actions. The actions that have brought us both to where we are now.”

 

Khadai’s face twisted in consternation. “Do you refer to the agreement wherein I requested that you guide me to Coerthas?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Confusion was still apparent on his face, but he did not press further on the matter. Instead, he abruptly shifted to answering her earlier query. “I am searching for… certain things. I do not know if these concepts can be found upon the Western continent or what they are called. Therefore, because you demand that I make use of your relevant abilities, I would ask you to interpret the information that I come across for me that I may perhaps find them relevant to my assignment.”

 

He frowned. “…I also do not know how to read the Western continent’s written language. I would rectify this somehow.”

 

She blinked. That was not the response she had anticipated in any capacity. The look he had given at her disjointed thoughts seemed an annoyed one, but his answer was patient and clear. Her lips parted absently in thought. “Y-yes, those are… duties with which I could assist.” She looked down and licked her lips, having become dry in the chill of the morning air. A smile toyed at the corners of her mouth. An earnest one, but at what was unclear to even her. “It would be difficult to learn to read and write quickly, so in the mean time, I can do so for you. And… whatever else.”

 

As if he perceived some manner of discontent from her, Khadai was quick to speak again. “I repeat my point. You possess a relevance in function precisely because you are not similar to me. In addition, you are not obligated to my service. Whether or not I am to partake of your services is irrelevant; you are free to go where you choose.” He raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Unless you wish to open another transaction of services.”

 

Edda looked back up at him with confusion. “Whatever for?”

 

“If you are to interpret information for me, then you will not receive an equitable service unless we establish a transaction.”

 

The meaning behind his words sunk in, and Edda gawked at the man for a moment before bowing her head – low – and staring at her feet. “It is…” she mumbled the rest, unintelligible.

 

“Repeat yourself.”

 

“I said—“ She looked up and spoke louder. Her face was bright red, her expression one of considerable bashfulness. “I said it is enough that I am helpful and… And that what little I can do is desired.”

 

He looked at her quizzically but said nothing and merely nodded. “Am I correct in believing that your destination is Ishgard?”

 

“I would like to,” she said. Then, in a quiet voice, “I do not think Roen will be very pleased.”

 

“The stern woman is irrelevant. Though her martial capacity may provide us grounds with which to reach reconciliation, her function is redundant.

 

“In the mean time, should I require navigation, then I will rely upon you to find one who can efficiently fulfill such a purpose.” He stopped as he opened his mouth as if suddenly struck by memory. “…Where are my garments? I could not find them.”

 

“Oh. Well yes, alright… I can do that.” She scowled slightly, unsure how to take his assessment of Roen. She knew the paladin had only her best interests at heart, however deeply they wounded her. So often were her thoughts and actions dictated by others, but she had not expected such to come from one she might dare to consider a friend. Though they had spoken vaguely on it, Edda had hoped she would understand the hurt it would cause. And yet here she was, the bitter memory of the wind biting at her wet cheeks still painful in the forefront of her mind.

 

“And they are in my room, Khadai. As clean as they were on the first sun you wore them.”

 

He nodded. “Then I will retrieve them before we leave. This clothing is… restrictive.” He shifted uncomfortably as if to illustrate his point. “When will we depart?”

 

Edda tried not to look at the Xaela in his unfitting clothing, the memory of his nudity from the other night still stark in her mind. Never before had she witnessed the unclothed form of a man, and it was something she was now trying desperately to forget. She cleared her throat. “We will depart soon. I need only gather my belongings and whatever supplies we may need. It should not take but a moment, and the journey should be a short one.”

 

A solemn nod. “I will be within my quarters.” With naught more than that, he strode away.

 

The rising sun could barely be seen behind the thick veil of clouds, yet it was clear the morning had already settled in. From atop the battlements, the shadowy mirage of Ishgard could be seen, and Edda stared at it for a few minutes. It was not far off, the realization that she would be headed to the mysterious city having not quite settled in. She shivered. Content that she had given Gideon and Roen enough time to reconnect, Edda turned on her heel and made her way back to her room.

[Roen]

“I’d be lying if I said I’ll miss yer charming company.”

 

Bellows chewed on a piece of dried jerky as he leaned against the wooden post of the Dragonhead stables, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Despite the the fact that he was overseeing the preparation of the chocobos, once Roen had made her hurried exit from the inn, Bellows seemed content in letting the paladin do the rest of the prepping. When she did not deign to answer him, he snorted. “Or your persistent chattering.”

 

Roen fastened the buckle of her saddle for the third time, pausing only when Goldwind let out an impatient quark as to protest to her forceful tugging. But the paladin continued in her double and triple checking of all of the equipment, while waiting for the rest of the company to exit from their abode. The small bowl of mushroom chanterelle that she had sampled in the kitchens still warmed her belly and her thoughts still swam with the lingering emotions of the talk she had with Gideon.

 

She was grateful for the cold morning winds that cooled her cheeks and calmed the slight puffiness to her eyes. She felt her mask of composure securely back in place by the time Edda and Gideon exited the inn, making their way towards their respective mounts with their bags in tow.

 

“The trip should not be too taxing and the weather should hold,” Roen greeted them without a smile, her tone businesslike. She spared Edda a single nod before squinting to the grey skies above. “Heavy snowfall has yet to start, with any luck, we may only see a light flurry.”

 

The paladin paused in her task as she counted only two out of the three. She looked beyond Edda and Gideon towards the inn again. “Is everyone ready?”

 

"Gideon is ready, yes, as to be expected." Edda looked back to Roen with a quizzical face. "As for Khadai, he should be, but I've not seen him. He knows we are to leave..." She turned to Gideon. "Did you see the Au Ra fellow at all? The tall, horned fellow, unusually brusque."

 

"I have oft heard of this individual, Miss, but have not yet encountered anyone by the description." The valet’s answer was calm and unruffled as usual. "If Miss so desires, I can seek him out?"

 

A sharp whistle caught all of their attention. "He's outside the walls," Bellows called out, jerking his head westward. "Communing with the snow or some nonsense. Best get on out there before there are more bodies laying around, eh?"

 

Roen gave the Hyur a pointed glare before she took the reins and led her bird out to the road leading west. She could not deny that she was relieved to part from the Midlander’s grating company. Edda and Gideon followed suit behind her, mounting their birds after fastening their bags onto the saddle.

 

Khadai had been easy enough to spot, he was sitting crosslegged in the snow with his eyes closed. The blued length of steel was secure in its harness, and on his back was the simple furred pack slung over his left shoulder. Gone were the borrowed clothing, and returned were the winter furs and leathers, and the metal spaulder covering an exposed arm. Roen was silently glad to see that his armor no longer bore the bloodstains from before. His pose seemed almost meditative, but he was quick to bolt to his feet upon their approach.

 

"The trek to Ishgard should not take more than a few bells." Roen nodded her greeting to the Xaela to which she was rewarded with a nod. An awkward moment’s pause fell between all of them as Roen glanced to the three gathered. She was not certain if they already knew each other and if she was the last one that was surprised by Gideon’s sudden appearance this morning.

 

The paladin finally cleared her throat. "So we will all be traveling to Ishgard together." She made an absent gesture at the two behind her. "I trust you all know each other?"

 

"No," Edda answered, shaking her head. She gestured to the man next to her. "Khadai, this is Gideon. He is my valet-" The noblewoman stopped abruptly, frowning. "He is... a companion of mine. Skilled, and knowledgable."

 

The valet inclined his head from atop the chocobo. "My duty is to attend to the mistress's needs as pertaining to more commonplace and routine matters. When the situation calls for it, I should be glad to receive sir's guidance on the navigational matters at hand--" He stopped shortly as the Xaela he was addressing crossed his arms and turned to face westward, seemingly eager to start their journey. Gideon gave a sidelong glance to Edda as if to wait for her response.

 

When Edda just gave Gideon an apologetic shrug of the shoulder and spurred her bird into a slow walk, Roen narrowed her eyes. Ever blunt and impatient, this Xaela. She too mounted Goldwind, clucking her tongue to start an easy relaxed stride. When she spoke her again, her tone was crisp. "Mister North is very knowledgeable and learned in all manners of etiquette and culture. Perhaps he can give you a few advice on what to expect in Ishgard?"

 

She ventured a glance at the valet. "That is, if you have anything that may be of assistance to someone completely new to the area. And the society."

 

"I shall engage in queries as they become relevant," the Xaela rumbled as he fell into long strides next to the three riders. "It is needless to ask without specific purpose."

 

Gideon nodded genially, apparently expecting such a response. "I shall endeavor to keep such knowledge at the forefront of my mind, should sir require it under duress."

 

The paladin let out a quick exhale through her nostrils. Her lips opened as if to protest again, before she closed them shut thinking the better of it. She always knew Gideon to hold his composure under almost any circumstance, and likely some abrupt mannered foreigner would be no different. She spurred Goldwind onward to take point.

 

As Dragonhead faded to a distant vision of white stones behind them, the sky began to greet them with a light flurry of snow. The whistling winds called from the mountains to the north and filled the silence as the three riders kept an easy pace. Khadai maintained long strides without any obvious difficulty, keeping up with the longer-legged chocobos despite being afoot. Occasionally he would break out into a short jog when his pace slowed in comparison, but otherwise he managed to keep in step with the rest.

 

It was when Roen could no longer see Dragonhead behind them that she turned to Edda. She tilted her head slightly to motion her forward. "Edda, may we speak...?"

 

Edda snapped to attention, seemingly lost in thought before. She gave the paladin a bewildered expression before nodding quickly. "Y-yes, of course," she said, her cheeks slightly flushing. She straightened in her saddle and quickened her bird’s stride to catch up to the paladin.

 

Roen pulled slightly ahead of the group, as if to distance their conversation from the men behind them. "I just... wanted to apologize. For before." The paladin kept her voice low. She only glanced to Edda for a short period of time, before turning her eyes back onto the road. "I should not have presumed things for you."

 

"No," Edda said succinctly, but it was not with malice. "You should not have. But it happens enough that I am quite used to it - it is safer that way, some would argue." The noblewoman too looked to the view ahead, but Roen could feel a sidelong glance returning to her.

 

"I understand," Edda continued, a smile in her voice. "It is only natural to be concerned for the safety of a dear friend."

 

The paladin released a white puff of breath through her nose, her gaze bowing just a little with a nod. "...Aye." Her own response was soft, pensive. She chewed her lower lip for a moment longer, pondering her next words.

 

When she spoke again, it was even quieter. "And I owe you more gratitude for..." The paladin glanced behind them with but a slightest turn of her head, but it was obvious who she was not quite looking at. She just pursed her lips and shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.

 

"Naturally." Edda nodded. "I am happy to do favors for those who ask it of me. Though I would have done so without your prompting, truth be told." She paused and looked to face the woman fully, her expression muted, but sincere. "You need not worry. I will see to his safety."

 

Roen turned to meet the noblewoman’s gaze, and even though she did not say anything more, there was a sense of relief that bloomed within. She nodded again, sparing only the briefest of glances to those behind them before turning her attention back to the road.

 

That was when Khadai broke his silence. “Are the animals wont to leave meals unfinished?”

 

The paladin turned to the strange question, glancing first at the Xaela then following his gaze to an odd sight off the side of the road. She spotted the flock of carrion birds circling the sky in the distance. That spectacle in and of itself was nothing out of the ordinary, but as her gaze drifted downward, the paladin found herself squinting.

 

Beneath the birds, there was an odd silhouette that stood out against the white snowy canvas. Something was protruding from the ground at a skewed angle, weighed by an object that was hanging from the top of the long shaft. She brought her bird to a stop, leaning slightly to try and get a better look. “No, they are not,” she muttered.

 

"Just a carcass from a hunt, perhaps." The noblewoman too was craning her neck to get a better look, but her tone was nervous, hesitant.

 

“Let me just check this out first--” Roen began, only to watch Khadai as he turned and darted off into a long loping run towards the scene in question. The paladin could only let out an impatient sigh as she watched his fur pack bouncing against his left shoulder, the Au Ra making a surprisingly quick pace through the snowdrift. She clucked her tongue for Goldwind to follow. She could hear Edda and Gideon following suit, although at a slower pace than her own.

 

When Roen caught up to the Xaela, it became obvious that it was no remnant of a hunt that they had discovered. A thick wooden stake had been driven into the ground, its sharpened end pointed to the sky. And from its apex hung a limp, lifeless body, impaled through the chest.

 

A pale horned female Au Ra hung from the end of the stake, her eyes lifeless, staring in frozen horror, and her mouth agape in a silent scream.

[Edda]

Time seemed to slow as the group came upon the body. That she had expected it be nothing more than an animal’s carcass made it all the more shocking to Edda, who turned away immediately at the sight of it. Bile rose in the back of her throat and she put a hand to her mouth. More of this – and though she was adapting to it, the brutality of it was still appalling, far more so than the corpses of those killed in combat. This was nearly beast-like, the cruelty of it so deep that she had to wonder if those that did such a thing were even people at all. She urged Gullinbursti closer to Gideon and huddled as close to him as she could, still looking away.

 

The valet moved in front of Edda quietly, and examined the scene with little reaction, save a raised eyebrow. Carefully extracting some paper from within his jacket, he began sketching a crude map, triangulating them as best he could based on the distance between Dragonhead and the Gates. Edda glanced to him in apprehension, then around him, looking anywhere but at the corpse.

 

Both Khadai and Roen advanced toward the body, both of them perhaps more accustomed to such sights. Khadai frowned at the body, and examined it with a curious eye. “No weapons. No signs of struggle. There had been no conflict.” He pursed his lips. “An execution?”

 

Behind him, Roen slid off her chocobo as she approached and walked closer, her boots crunching in the snow. She nodded slowly, a long exhale released through her nostrils. “Never have I came upon something like this before.”

 

“As I understand,” Gideon began. “Executions in the northern region are typically inquisitorial in nature. I would say the unfortunate mistress may have been too draconic for the locals’ liking, but… this seems remarkably visceral. Moreso than their reputed methods, at any rate.”

 

“This is an… uncommon occurrence, then?” Khadai asked.

 

It was a clinical approach to the situation, one that brought both comfort and displeasure to Edda. Her reaction was an expected one, the pity, fear, and horror still swelling in her stomach. Yet there was little room for weakness here, nor anywhere else. She bit her lip and scanned the horizon. “Should free her of it,” she said softly, her voice barely audible above the howling winds. “It is cruel.”

 

Khadai aimed a confused glance at Edda briefly, before he turned, prepared to begin moving again. “It is a body. Leave it.”

 

“I know full well what it is!” She snapped at the Xaela and glared at him. No argument beyond that was offered, however, and she fell silent. To expect anything more of him had been a mistake, even with the dead being one of his own race. It was not as if he had afforded any sensibility toward the dead before, so why should now be any different?

 

Roen glanced at Edda and then to Khadai, her expression darkened. She tilted her head incredulously at the man, and again glanced between the two Au Ra, one alive and one dead. “No, we are not leaving her like this.” She turned to face Gideon. “Mist North, if you can please aid me in getting her down?”

 

Now it was Khadai’s turn to look at Gideon. “I request clarification on the current situation.”

 

Seeing fit to ignore the man, Edda slid off her chocobo, landing with a grunt in the snowy down. She brushed past Khadai and made her way to Roen, standing ready to help in any way that she could, which was admittedly very little.

 

Gideon paused at the two addressing him, then nodded, speaking plainly and calmly as he levered himself down and slipped off his gloves. “Miss Deneith and my mistress aim to grant the unknown victim dignity that she was robbed of in death, and have momentarily decided to suspend their progress that they might lend her assistance. This will assuage their distress at the situation, and prevent further agitation aroused by any other patrols that might otherwise happen upon her.” His polished shoes crunched over the snow as he smoothly trotted towards the corpse, inspecting and adjusting it for movement with a politely blank expression.

 

Roen blinked as Edda approached, but did not immediately refuse her, and for that she was grateful. The paladin went to the other side of the wooden stake, looking from its base to the end. Her face hardened as she could not help but stare at the dead female once more. “It is already bent from the weight, I think we can bring it down further then free her.” She began to put her weight upon the mid-length of the stake, testing the foundation even as Gideon offered his explanation.

 

Khadai turned and stared at the stake and its unfortunate occupant with a critical eye. “Is the current objective, then, to have the body reach ground level?”

 

“That remains to be seen, sir,” Gideon said. He glanced to Edda politely. “Does miss wish a simple burial, or shall I transport her remains back to Dragonhead and allow you to progress further in my absence?”

 

She shook her head. “Here is fine.” She frowned at herself, and though she stood poised to assist, she did not know how.

 

“As you wish, miss.”

 

“This is pointless. It is a dead body. Would you have us care for fallen leaves as well?” Khadai folded his arms, a frown of confused frustration on his face.

 

A retort made its way to Edda’s lips, but she swallowed it, instead focusing on the task at hand. It seemed pointless to scold Khadai, as it was clear he was set in his ways. The gulf that separated their beliefs seemed wider than before, one too perilous to attempt to cross. It was not a bad thing, no, for she could hardly blame the man for being born and raised in a completely different part of the world; his utter disregard for life was jarring, and one she could not understand. Still, it was not such a terrible thing as she treated it, and it was now that she became certain he would be willing to do what she asked of him when the time was right.

 

The Xaela’s words did not seem to sit right with Roen, and she grunted as she pushed on the stake and motioned Edda forward. “Just lean here if you can. I think we can lower the stake. Perhaps Mister North…” She gave another look to Khadai, this one of impatience. “…Or Khadai can lend a hand and free her.”

 

She glared at him, her words carrying a sharp rebuke. “This would be one of those lessons that you would do well to learn before going to Ishgard. Dead people are not regarded the same as dead foliage.”

 

Gideon stepped forward, and clarified. “The immediate aim is to lower the body, and grant it some measure of concealment by whatever the elements may provide.” He circled behind her, placing his hands on her shoulder blades with gentle firmness. “Miss may avert her eyes, if desired—“

 

Edda stepped forward as Roen motioned to her, and leaned on the stake as instructed. She shook her head at Gideon’s suggestion – there was no room for weakness here. Not ever. Her lack of physical strength was apparent, however, even the leverage of her bodyweight shunted by the poor footing. The exertion on her face was clear, though it accomplished nothing.

 

A deep sigh followed a long pause of contemplation, and Khadai withdrew his sword from its harness, stepping forward to approach the stake. “Very well. If you insist on removing the body, then we shall do so efficiently.” He raised the sword in the air, as if to slice the cadaver’s torso clean off. “Remove yourselves from it,” he instructed. “It will be quicker in pieces.”

 

“What are you doing? Stop!” Edda immediately jumped forward from her position at the stake, planting herself between the sword and the corpse. She glared up at him, and put a stopping hand out pathetically, as if it would achieve more than her words.

 

A flash of irritation crossed his face, though he did lower his sword and angle it towards the side so as to indicate that was not intending on cutting the Hyur down. “It is a body. It does not possess any trace of the person it once was. If you insist that we are to waste time disposing of remains, then it is best that we do so in the most expedient manner possible. Moving the body off of the stake, or moving the stake itself when faced with size and weight is impractical. Therefore I shall remove what pieces are possible. It will be a simple matter.”

 

Patiently, and remaining in position, Gideon cleared his throat. “The aim in returning her to a peaceful state and position, sir, is to symbolically treat her with more respect and care than her apparent attackers. Dismemberment, while pragmatic, would somewhat be in opposition with the moral intent of providing her mercy and reprieve.”

 

“Reprieve? It is a dead body,” Khadai repeated. “Shall we bathe and dress it? Is this dead body in position to appreciate the care with which it is treated?” The sword slipped back into its harness. “Enough. I can see I have erred, though I may not understand why.”

 

Roen’s eyes widened with disbelief. She released a long suffering breath, as if forcing herself to not speak to hastily. Her composure was stiff, and it was apparent to Edda that the woman was holding herself back, and for that she could hardly be blamed. There was little to be accomplished by lashing out at one so set in his values. Roen went to study the stake once more, turning her attention away from the debate.

 

“You need not understand,” Edda said. She turned away from Khadai and positioned herself at the stake once more. “It is enough for you to know that this is a different land, with different people. Do not impose the inclinations of your peoples on us – for they are not ours. We shall do what we feel is right.”

 

“There is writing here,” Roen said to no one in particular. When Edda approached again, she pointed out the carved letters in the wooden shaft. Edda leaned in to peer at the writing, reading: ‘Where there is sin, we bring atonement.’

 

“More of this Ishgardian nonsense?” Edda said, in a tone more harsh than usual for her. “Such belligerence in their beliefs—“

 

She stopped and took a step back as Khadai stepped suddenly into her position at the stake, knees bent. He wrapped his arms around the stake and placed the side of his face against the wooden shaft such that the steel tipped point of his left horn was digging into the wood, and grunted. Muscles strained and his knees shook with the effort, and though it did not free the stake, it noticeably shifted upwards and had leaned over a few ilms.

 

Roen stared, eyes widened once more as Khadai took to moving the stake all by his lonesome. Another long exhale puffed in a cloud of white as she joined in the effort at least in trying to lower the leaning a bit more but a bit higher on the length of the stake. “Mister North…!” She grunted as well. “If you could see if the body can be reached…?”

 

The Xaela repeated the gesture several more times, each time causing the stake to lean slightly more and more with each attempt. Eventually he ceased attempting to lift it and instead used his height to lean against it as close to the top – and near the cadaver – as he could.

 

With his hands still on the body’s shoulder blades, Gideon reacted with careful competence and no questioning – dropping his grip to her ribcage, he set his jaw, pushing with quiet exertion. A couple seconds passed before a crackle broke through the air – once half frozen to the stake, the body jolted upward, the ice broken by their collective efforts. Only a moment more passed, a slight wrinkle of distaste crossing his expression, before the body came loose. Gideon hastily darted to catch her, the lifeless corpse flopping down with the valet’s arms under her own; the gaping hole in her chest now readily visible. “…Ah.”

 

There was little Edda could do, and so the woman opted to stand back and watch, hands covering her mouth. Useless, useless, useless. A deserving mantra. She gasped as the body came free, and she could not help but stare at it, now expecting the mangled state it was in. On one of her thin ankles was tied a piece of linen cloth, an odd thing since it did not seem to belong as part of her garment, and it was free of the spatter of blood that marked the rest of the body. The corpse’s feet began to sink slowly into the snow as she remained in Gideon’s grip.

 

Roen released her own hold on the stake as she was trying to lean it further down, her grimace now turning from one of exertion to that of condemnation at the sight. “Mister North, perhaps you can take her back to Dragonhead? Then join us in Ishgard? Perhaps she has family that needs to be notified.” She walked around towards him and the body. “I can send a missive with you. Just bring her to the attention of Ser Tournes.” She looked to the female’s face, one hand rising to close the woman’s eyes.

 

“Is that wise?” Edda turned to look at Roen sharply, lowering her hands from her mouth. “There is no guarantee she will not receive the same treatment there, as the camp is still beleaguered with Halone, and—“ She stopped, and a look of realization dawned on her face.

 

She looked between the two friends, and then fell silent, bowing her head to stare at her feet. Oh. Oh. Of course, what good was her word between old friends? No doubt they had missed each other, separated by strife and circumstance, and now finally reunited – there was no place for her here. It was wrong of Edda, perhaps, to have expected anything different; the sharp slap of realization as to what weight she carried here settled in her chest, the pangs of a barren hole carved by a formless stake. Roen was right, had always been right. It had been foolish of her to believe otherwise. Stillness overcame Edda as her fingers dug tiny crescents into the palms of her hands.

 

“That will not be necessary, Miss,” Gideon started. He immediately began taking the leftover bags and cloth from Chesterfield’s back, beginning to wrap her in a makeshift shroud. “I believe I provided the camp with enough minor comforts that I should be recognized, and my own word afforded due acknowledgement. You may go on ahead to ensure your business is not delayed; I will attend to the unfortunate miss.” He nodded politely to Edda and Khadai in turn.

 

“Miss will find her essentials in the appropriate saddled bag. I apologize for the delay, sir, and wish you luck and insight on the road ahead. I will return shortly.” Without further delay, he hunched in the snow, quietly seeing to the woman’s impromptu, ragged covers. Khadai frowned but said nothing, and merely trudged off in the direction of the road.

 

“Not all Halone’s believers are cruel or suspecting of all outsiders,” Roen said after some delay, looking at Edda out of the corner of her eye. She nodded to Gideon. “Gratitude, Mister North, for your assistance.”

 

“Such is my purpose, Miss.” He delicately covered the hole in her chest. “On you go, now.”

 

“I will still send a missive to Ser Tournes once we reach Ishgard to inquire further on this matter.” The paladin shook her head. “This is… not…” A pause. “It is not right and it is certainly not the law of the land here. Not this.” She turned to Edda, as if trying to convince her as much as herself.

 

Edda wrapped her arms around herself, her expression morphing into a pained frown. She looked at Roen carefully and nodded as best she could, before turning on her heel and mounting Gullinbursti. She stared at Gideon, still busying himself in wrapping the corpse, before sighing and covering her face in her hands.

 

Chesterfield tweeted grudgingly at them, as if demanding to be taken along. The valet murmured, not stirring from his work. “Patience.”

 

Roen mounted her bird, but pulled up next to Edda. The look she gave her was one of sympathy. “We should go. If anything to make certain that Khadai does not meet the same fate.” Her voice had softened, as did her countenance.

 

Edda straightened up, and withdrew her hands from her face. “Yes,” was all she said, and urged her chocobo forward.

 

Khadai had not made it too far, thankfully, and it did not take too long for the two to catch up to him. He did not say anything, and merely continued his long strides with a stern expression of thought on his face. The rest of the trip to the Gate of Judgment was spent in silence.

[Nero]

Walls and gates were not a foreign concept. The so-called Gates of Judgment, however, and the long bridge that the guard had referred to as the Steps of Faith, did not seem to fit the moniker of "wall" or "gate". "Monument" seemed more apt. Even oblivious as he was to this land's culture, even he could tell that the ominous length of the bridge, the towering parapets, and the massive gatehouse were both designed for defense...and to be a symbol.

 

The traffic was varied. Ragtag groups of armed individuals idly passed through the gates after consulting with the knights on duty. Wagons and carts full of goods managed to make their way through after lengthy, exhaustive inspections. Armoured soldiers similar to those that were present at Dragonhead kept a vigilant watch, eyes narrowly peering through the slits of helmets, scrutinizing all who passed by. Kasrjin noted the stern glances of disgust and the tensing of hands on weapons whenever one of their eyes fell upon him. The fact that they did not immediately take action proved that they did not believe him to be a Dravanian, or at the least, they'd been given orders to the contrary regarding individuals such as himself. That told him two things: one, that there were other Au Ra present around or perhaps even inside the city. That would be advantageous. Two, these knights were not like the two buffoons that had assaulted them earlier. Though, it was entirely possible that if they--that is, the knights--did not know Au Ra existed, they might have attacked him on sight anyway.

 

Just to be sure.

 

The Xaela adjusted his clothing and made a pointed notion of keeping the handle of his sword out of reach, attempting to minimize the threat he seemed to presented. It was easier said and done; Kasrjin stood half a head taller than most of the Elezen knights, and more than a head and a half taller than the shorter Hyur. The number of ugly glares the Au Ra received exceeded counting.

 

Despite that, the trio managed to reach the gate and the knight attending to it with little trouble. It would seemed that random, motley groups of armed individuals were not of note, as with little more than a stern nod, the knight ushered the trio through the portcullis of the gate, and into the city proper.

 

It was...not what he expected.

 

Crumbling fortifications lay desecrated. Idle bits of stone and lumber were strewn about. In the far distance, what once must have been an intimidating statue was missing a great deal of its upper body. The Xaela was expecting something more...substantial. He was expecting a fortress. He was expecting soldiers training in every street, porters carrying supplies, something that indicated that this was a city prepared for war on a moment's notice.

 

Instead, what he saw were battered, tired knights, destitute rabble, and an atmosphere that reeked of a certain measure of melancholy.

 

Somehow, it reminded him of the body that they had found impaled on the side of the road.

 

"...shall we secure lodging?" was all he managed to successfully filter from the whirlwind of thoughts and observations in his mind. He suddenly felt consciously out of place; his tribal furs and leathers were well-constructed, but if Kasrjin was fully aware of anything by this point, it was that he had become far too insistent in projecting his own expectations on the Western continent.

 

Some compromise would be necessary, if only to avoid conflict.

[Roen]

Ishgard’s climate had noticeably chilled since the last time she had walked the cobbled pavement of the city, but it was not the temperature that bit at her. From the wary glances to the nearly belligerent glower that were thrown in the Xaela’s direction, Roen found her hand swinging just a little closer to her weapon as they made their way across the long bridge into the walled city. It was only when they reached the giant aetheryte crystal, where the merchants and the adventurers seemed more prevalent in their mingling, that the paladin allowed herself to relax. Here the inhospitable air seemed to lift, giving way to one of indifference.

 

Had this city-state been so hostile when she first arrived? The paladin could not recall. Perhaps her senses were so dulled then that she had not taken much note of her environment. But the image of the frozen woman’s face still hovered in her memory, enough so that it had prickled her senses and made her more aware of her surroundings as they entered through the Gates of Judgement.

 

Roen stole a few glances at Khadai, and while his expression remained severe as ever, she noted a slight odd shift in his posture; his gaze flitted about and she thought she heard a note of uncertainty that tinged his words. Certainly if she felt like an outsider here, she could not imagine how it must be for a true foreigner like an Au Ra.

 

“Lodging would be good,” the paladin nodded in agreement. “The Forgotten Knight might have some rooms available still. With the influx of mercenaries and traders, it had gotten quite crowded in the city.”

 

Roen frowned. She recalled that despite the fact that the Forgotten Knight shared its doors with the lowborns of the Brume, the inn itself had become quite popular since the gates were opened. It was only because Ser Tournes personally knew the innkeeper that she was afforded a room at a decent rate. Roen pursed her lips and looked to Edda with a conciliatory cant of her head.

 

“The prices for a room may be quite extraordinary, despite the condition of the lodging.” Strangely, she felt the need to lower the noblewoman’s expectations before Edda saw the dark and dingy room for herself. “But it is what is available to the new arrivals.”

 

Roen gestured toward the stairs that led to the tavern, before she paused. She glanced over her shoulder to Khadai, looking him over up and down. “Perhaps a visit to the Jeweled Crozier is also in order. While your furs may have served you well until now, it distinctly marks you a stranger above than the rest. You would do well to try and blend in with the others in the city as much as possible while you are here.” It all may be a futile effort, for nothing would hide his scales and horns, but she did not want to admit that.

 

The paladin looked toward the path that sloped upwards. “If you find yourself walking uphill, likely you will end up in The Pillars. It is the wealthier part of the city.” She gave another sidelong glance to Edda. “I do not know if you have any connections here, but that is where the noble houses can be found as well as the artisans in the Jeweled Crozier.” She turned and swept her hand towards the Forgotten Knight and beyond. “And if you wish, I can show you The Brume as well. The poorer parts of Ishgard.”

 

Her voice dipped as the paladin added with a small frown, “It is night and day, the difference between the two.” She found herself almost reaching for the two earrings that hung from the thin chain around her neck. The amethysts set in their delicate filigrees seemed to press against her chest just a bit heavier beneath the armor.

 

Roen dismissed the wave of melancholy that threatened to take her with a shake of her head, as if she was loosening some snowflakes from her eyelashes. “Let us get you settled in,” she muttered as she ascended the steps with long strides toward the Forgotten Knight.

[Edda]

The Forgotten Knight was not quite what Edda had expected. Luxury and warmth was far from what she had hoped to see, but the state of disrepair yet popularity of the site was another thing altogether. The stairway that led down to the front desk was littered with bystanders, the main area itself standing room only. The din of voices and commotion was overpowering. Edda pushed her way through the crowd to approach the front desk, and could scarcely hear Roen’s voice as she spoke. Something about ‘not venturing too far,’ and the next time Edda looked over her shoulder, the woman was gone.

 

As the paladin had warned prior, the price on a room was certainly high. Not unaffordable, but enough to make the woman wrinkle her nose in distaste. Surely the state of the room would not be worth the asking price, and as Edda and Khadai made their way to their separate rooms, her prediction was quite right.

 

A thin sheen of dust seemed to cover every piece of furniture in the room, empty bottles and forgotten belongings from the last tenant still strewn about the floor. The bed had not been properly made, giving rise to the question if the sheets were even fresh. At the very least, the fireplace was lit, leaving the room at a comfortable temperature. It was livable – if barely. Edda deposited her belongings before making her way out and locking the door. She knocked once on Khadai’s door and received no answer. The man had presumably left to meet with Roen, and though Edda did not recall where she had said to meet, she set out in the hopes of finding them.

 

Now alone and free to wander, Edda found herself quickly lost in the imposing layout of the city. It was an imposing yet beautiful city, the architecture ancient and intricate – a far cry from the simplicity found in Vylbrand. That such a metropolis lay under constant threat of attack from Dravania seemed too much of a waste, and she found herself staring for quite some time at the decapitated statues and crumbling spires. She meandered aimlessly, the area not over-crowded, and as she stood at a ledge staring out over the Sea of Clouds, the sound of two familiar voices drifted to hear ear.

 

“…I believe I know what you will say. I wish to… be less noticeable in this environment,” said a rumbling voice. “It is impossibly in some ways, but it can be mitigated somewhat.”

 

“Aye, less you stand out the better. Although there is no hiding who you are but,” responded a more familiar voice, even and assured. “I suppose you are not the first Au Ra to arrive here. Perhaps if your appearance looked more… acclimated…”A pause. “Where… is Edda…?”

 

“…I do not know.”

 

The conversation was unmistakable, and Edda turned to look over her shoulder for the source, sweeping her gaze across the large, open square. Khadai’s form stood out like a sore thumb. He stood some fulms away next to Roen, both having their backs turned to her.

 

The paladin pursed her lips. “I see.” She frowned then shrugged. “We can wait here awhile. You are accustomed to other forms of armor?”

 

“In a manner, though the terrain in my land demands mobility over defense. There is a saying…” He frowned, pausing in thought. “I believe it would go, ‘fear the warrior who bears no scars.’ Avoiding wounds altogether is preferable to being wounded and surviving.

 

“…You are equipped with martial training. What manner of defense do you recommend?” He gestured to her armor. “Your armor appears to carry far more metal than is needed, and limits your ability to maneuver in mountainous terrain. Is such heavy defense necessary?”

 

Edda smiled to herself at their civil conversation. To think that the two started out on such a bad note… It was true, what Khadai had said two nights past, that Roen’s training as a fighter would provide some grounds for reconciliation. Still smiling, Edda made her way over to the two, hoping she would quickly come into their periphery view. She kept her head bowed and said nothing so as to not interrupt the two.

 

Roen dipped her head in thought at the Xaela’s question. “This was the armor I was trained in. Even heavier at times. It is one form of defense.” She studied her gauntlets absently. “Many wield weapons that would easily penetrate through lesser armor. Especially Dravanians. And we are not expected to run from them. You would notice that temple knights and dragoons are fairly heavily armored.” She noticed the approaching figure and turned to nod to Edda.

 

Khadai followed her gaze with a creak of his own. “Edda. Have you rested?”

 

She gave the two short nods, then looked at the Au Ra with a curious expression. “Er. Yes.” A strange thing to ask. She had scarcely been gone from his presence for a full twenty minutes – hardly enough time to get any sort of substantial rest.

 

“I request your input to this subject. Without regards to defense, what manner of garment do you recommend I don? I do not wish to be so…” he paused. “Conspicuous. My behavior requires its own correction, but at the moment, physical appearance concerns me.”

 

Roen crossed her arms and glances to the stones for a moment, a small curl to her lips. She said nothing.

 

“Well,” Edda began. “Why not think on what it is you want to wear? Chainmail and armor would certainly help you blend in, but I doubt that is something you are at all interested in.”

 

“I do not understand your query.” He frowned. “Though it is no fault of yours. I have only ever selected garments based on practical function. Prior to this I have not had need to pay heed to aesthetics.

 

“What would be considered socially acceptable?” The Xaela jerked his head towards Roen. “I shall consult the stern woman over matters of defense at a later time. I would like your input.”

 

Edda sighed. “Function over form, in this scenario. Anything that can be purchased here will be socially acceptable to some degree, and if they are not I will be sure to let you know.”

 

The paladin narrowed her eyes and cleared her throat. “Other than blending in… what is your purpose here? Now that you are in Ishgard? Is this not the place both of you sought to reach? Your manner of clothing should reflect what you intend to do.”

 

“She is correct. If you desire something similar to what you wear now in terms of utility, we can work from there.”

 

Khadai looked askance at both women a few times before glancing at Roen to answer her question. “I intend to…” His statement started with confidence that fell off, his expression marred with puzzlement and confusion. “I will learn what I can of this Continent and expand my own understanding of its customs. In the meantime, I will search for information related to my objective.” Another frown. “I intend to… mingle. I believe that is the correct word.”

 

Edda pursed her lips and looked back up to the city, the architecture once more catching her eye. The thought of Khadai attempting to mingle settled into the back of her mind, an unsure expression making its way across her face.

 

“Tied into this is to secure a source of currency with which to conduct trade for essential supplies,” he continued. “I am to… select garb based on the profession I would adopt?”

 

Roen blinked, just staring at the man for a moment. She slowly nodded. “Aye. If you wish to find work here, you would do well to look like you belong here. If you wish to be a sellsword, then wearing native armor would suit you. If you wish to sell things, then a merchant garb.”

 

She did not touch on the ‘mingling’ part of his plan, and she cast Edda a sidelong glance. It seemed she shared a similar reaction, and Edda turned to look at the midline between the two, studying the distant aetheryte as if it were the most interesting thing in the land. A small smile tugged at her lips.

 

“Edda. This function you would have me perform for you as per the terms of our agreement. Would dressing in native armor inhibit this directive you would give me?”

 

Said woman’s gaze drifted to Khadai at the pointed question, her smile fading. “No,” she began simply. “You will need native clothes regardless of my own directives anyway. Naturally, I can provide for you as well, if need be.”

 

“That is unnecessary. I plan on sustaining myself. I do not wish to be a burden.” A small puff of air escaped Edda’s nose in a silent snort. Ridiculous. The man turned back to Roen and continued. “Then I shall consult with you on proper garments. In addition, I was made aware of… devices? That we may use to remain in contact over distances.”

 

Roen watched the noblewoman carefully, her eyes narrowing slightly. She turned back to Khadai at his question. “Ah. Aye. There are linkpearls…” She paused and reached into a belt pouch to retrieve a small pearl, holding it up between her fingers. “They allow you to communicate to other wearers over long distances. There are also… moogles…” A small pause. “Small creatures that deliver written missives and packages to intended recipients.”

 

“I see.” With refreshing clarity, it seemed that he understood the straightforward manner in which the description was delivered and nodded. “We may utilize such things, then.” Another turn to Edda. “And if you are willing… I would still like to learn the written word.”

 

Roen glanced between them, a quirk of the brow betraying her surprise. Edda merely blinked. “That is fine.”

 

The paladin canted her head again, eyeing the noblewoman curiously. “Edda. Do you have contacts here?”

 

“Not me personally, no.” She bit her lip. “I would have to write home for such things. Why? Have you need of any?”

 

She rolled her shoulders. “Nay, I just thought… if you knew any of the other noble houses here, it would make your stay more hospitable. The Forgotten Knight is likely not the lodging you are used to.” There was a small rueful tug to one corner of her lips. “It is very much like Ul’dah. The have and the have-nots. Contacts would go far for you. If you intend to stay for long.”

 

Edda glanced toward the sky, recalling the sorry state of her room. “I am not so desperate,” she began, looking back to Roen. “To need such luxury in a city I scarcely know. What need I have contacts would be only useful for a transfer of funds, and that is all.” She nodded, quite sure of herself. Though the temptation of a cleaner, softer bed was a strong one, she saw little point in folding to the unfamiliarity of such different living so soon. Such an action would scream only weakness.

 

Roen nodded. “Alright then. Since…” She looked back to the Xaela. “…We have no idea how long your stay will be here… I suppose getting you some form of employment would be desirable? And the proper armor or equipment that is necessary?”

 

“…I am capable of hunting for myself for sustenance, if necessary. Though, given the events in the forest, I would like to avoid doing so if at all possible.”

 

The paladin glanced between the two of them once more. “I know of an armorsmith who is rather skilled. Although if you are going to hunt for food…” She pursed her lips. “You would do so outside the gates. It is not quite as… rigid where hunting is concerned. Coerthas is not the Shroud. But while you are at it, trading meat and leather would provide you with ways of earning currency. I was hoping Edda might have more contacts in terms of vendors and merchants here but…” She shrugged. “I can ask around.”

 

“…Hunting is not my specialization. I know it, and certain crafts, out of practicality. I have no yet decided with what purpose I will obtain currency. But in any case you are correct. I will properly outfit myself, first and foremost.

 

“…Edda.” He cleared his throat, almost awkwardly. A gesture unknown to the Xaela. “If you feel you have need to depart… do not hesitate to inform me. I will accompany you. I would not have you remain here for my sake and resent being tied to me out of a sense of obligation.”

 

“Eh?” A rather ungraceful response. “N-no, you do not have you, unless you so wish to… I will pay for your inn room and whatever expenses you may need well in advance to allow you to settle in if that is what concerns you.”

 

He shook his head. “As I said. I will sustain myself. Do not hesitate to make use of me should you require it.”

 

“Hmph!” Edda glared at Khadai and folded her arms. “Surely you do not think you can offer something like that and expect me not to help in the only way I can. Very well, I will take heed of your offer, but in return, you will accept mine.”

 

A brief struggle showed itself on Khadai’s face, though he nodded in acquiescence. “I agree.”

 

Edda relaxed her stance and smiled to herself. A small victory, however crudely won. “Good.”

 

Roen watched their exchange with some measure of curiosity, then cleared her throat. “Well then, armor will be much easier to obtain with ready funds.”

 

“I should have enough for now, unless all of Ishgard sports exorbitant prices,” Edda said.

 

The paladin pursed her lips. “You would be surprised. With the gates open and the merchants flooding in, commerce is…” She paused then shrugged, seemingly content to discard that thought. “I would suggest armor for work and perhaps some common clothing for the times in between.”

 

The blonde nodded. “To start, yes…”

 

Roen glanced to the Xaela then back to Edda. “I know that people are much less fearful of a well dressed person. That is, if you wanted to indulge in some local fashion or what not.” She almost sounded amused. Almost.

 

Edda kept her gaze on Khadai, sizing him up from head to toe. She smiled wryly at Roen’s observation. “That is true. Especially in well-tailored clothes, hm… Though, I will have to see what they offer first.”

 

Roen lowered her gaze slightly, hiding an odd expression that rose.

 

“I will defer to your knowledge in this matter.” The Xaela gave a shrug, though he did tap the horns on the side of his head. “If it is all the same, I would rather they close from the front.”

 

“Er…” Edda stared at the odd request, before her face heated, the memory of frontal exposure momentarily escaping the gaol she had fashioned for it. “What… wh- Fine. That should be fine.”

 

The redhead squinted her eyes, studying those horns. “Perhaps they can work with that.”

 

“I feel out of place without some manner of armour. I would prefer to accomplish that first. Before doing so, however…” He glanced towards the gates. “The terrain around the city. I suspect that regardless of my chosen profession, it will take me outside of the city. I wish to familiarize myself with the terrain before deciding. We have… linkpearls? We may use these to keep in contact?”

 

“Ah.” Roen fingered into her belt pouch again, this time retrieving four pearls. “I did take the liberty of finding a vendor while you were settling in…” She held out her hand, four white pearls nestled within her palm. She frowned oddly at them, as if the action were somehow foreign.

 

Edda took one pearl from Roen, frowned at it, and tucked it away safely.

 

Khadai took one as well, examining it curiously. “Is the operation of it simple?”

 

“I do not always wear mine… and you can have it close by. It makes a noise when someone is trying to contact you.” She placed on in her ear. “You activate it with just a slight pressure.”

 

“…I see.” He raised the pearl to his head, frowning. His horns were rough and scaled, but there was nowhere for him to put the small sphere.

 

“Ah—“ Edda said, realization dawning on her. She looked at Khadai quickly, her expression one of shock and embarrassment. That’s right – he had no ears, at least not ones that would accommodate a linkpearl.

 

“…I do not believe these are constructed with Au Ra in mind.”

 

Roen squinted suddenly. Then blinked. Then her eyes widened. “How do you hear?” She asked rather bluntly. She canted her head, as if trying to get a better look.

 

“I do not understand the question.”

 

She parted her lips then closed them for a moment in thought. She shook her head. “Ah. I just… do not understand much about your kind. I suppose you hear in other ways.” She tapped her ear where she had plugged the pearl. “We would not be able to hear sounds without our ears.”

 

“These horns are used for sensing. I believe only the form is different, not the function.”

 

Edda examined the man closely, before letting out a short sigh. “Well, it should be easy enough to fix, in any case…”

 

Roen squinted again, as if to get a better look at those horns. “Hmm.” A long exhale. “Well then, perhaps a message left with the innkeeper? Or the moogles. I do not think you have a receptacle suitable for a pearl.”

 

“I can make one easily enough, I think,” Edda said, voice quiet.

 

“I believe that if it is to be affixed to the surface, it will provide suitable function,” Khadai said.

 

Edda looked to the ground and shuffled awkwardly. It was not something she enjoyed bringing attention to, and if it were not so important, then it would remain glossed over. Such skills were not meant to be equated to her – not yet.

 

“Oh!” Roen exclaimed, and glanced between them. “Like those… that you are wearing now. Fashion some kind of a… cap or something? You have such skills?”

 

“I believe I can craft something suitable to the purpose, given the time and material.” He paused rather suddenly. “…Ah. That question was not intended for me.” He glanced to Edda.

 

Her face now slightly flushed from embarrassment, Edda motioned to the surface behind her ear. “Just a simple hook and holder made of fine wire should be more than suitable. There should be enough room between his skull and mass of his horns for something light and simple…”

 

“I believe such a thing would be acceptable, if you would be willing,” Khadai said.

 

“Of course…!”

 

A low nod of his head. “I am grateful, then.”

 

The corner of Edda’s lips twisted into a strange expression, and she looked down at the ground, the tips of her ears turning red. “Hmph…”

 

Roen looked between the two of them before exhaling sharply. “Well, I will have my pearl in hand, so if I am needed, I will not be far. I am to stay in the city for the time being.”

 

“Then in the meantime, I will survey the surrounding terrain, as was my original intention,” Khadai said.

 

Roen nodded, her tone remaining businesslike. “I have things to take care of as well.”

 

Khadai returned her nod with one of his own. “We may remain in contact, then.”

 

“Oh,” Edda said quickly, looking up. “Alright, yes. I suppose I will go shopping then…” She had no intention of doing such, however. Better to make herself seem busy and useful, though she no doubt that she could manage to fool either of them. Her worth had already been made quite apparent.

 

The paladin nodded once more to them both, her gaze lingering on Edda. “Edda. If I may have a word…” Her voice dipped, her expression a bit hesitant.

 

Wordlessly, Khadai stepped away towards the gate, taking his leave of the two women.

 

“What is it?”

 

Roen stepped closer when the Xaela was out of hearing range. She handed a crumpled paper over, at which Edda raised an eyebrow. “I found this hanging on the walls by the Forgotten Knight. It is an advertisement… for something in Thanalan.” She cleared her throat. “There have been quite a few littering the walls… and um… well. This one had your picture on it.”

 

Edda uncurled the paper, and looked at it with a stoic face. It was none other than the Bronco Grease ad she had posed in at Spahro’s behest. Were it not for her name plastered haphazardly on it, she did not think she was at all recognizable. “All the way in Ishgard? Strange…” She looked back up at Roen. Strange indeed. Edda sincerely doubted many citizens of Ishgard would find much worth in a cheap tonic produced all the way in Thanalan. “Was there a problem?”

 

“No problem… just… I wanted you to be aware. Or prepared. In case… you are recognized.” She cleared her throat again.

 

Edda chuckled softly, and crumpled the paper up once more. “I do not think that will happen. And if I were to be, then that is fine too. A favor, it was, albeit an unexpected one. Father was quite livid.” She smiled at the memory. Her advertising for an unrelated and sleazy product had been poorly received.

 

The paladin licked her lips, uncertainty in her furrowed brow. “Well, if you are not at unease, then my worries are for naught.” She straightened and nodded once. “Dubious Distributions…” she murmured. “I was not aware you knew Mister Bellveil.”

 

Edda frowned and tapped her chin in thought, the name obviously not ringing an immediate bell. “Mister Bellveil…? Dubious… Ah. Yes, the Duskwight man from Ul’dah? I have made his acquaintance on a handful of occasions, but I would not say I know him. Are you a friend of his?”

 

There was a moment of hesitation before she nodded, her expression softening slightly. “He was… I mean, is. He is a friend, aye.” She shrugged quickly. “I have not seen him in a while. But…” She glanced down at the paper. “I suppose he is doing well.”

 

The blonde paused, her expression relaxing in response to Roen. “I could not say,” she began, her voice soft. “But I think it is safe to assume he is well. I am sure you will be able to see him again soon. It seems your friends have a funny habit of cropping up unexpectedly.” She offered a smile, albeit an awkward one.

 

Roen blinked, giving Edda a look of consternation. A pause followed. “Strange, that.” She diverted her glance towards the gates. She let out another long exhale as she scratched her head. “Anyroad. I should get going.”

 

Edda nodded, depositing the crumpled paper in her pocket. “Alright. I shall do so as well, I suppose.”

 

Roen turned to head up the stairs, before pausing. There was a small tug to the corner of her lips, and her voice was quiet. “I thought it would be worse.” She shook her head. “But it was not as bad as I thought.” She turned without further explaining, making her way toward The Pillars.

 

Edda stopped and stared at the woman’s retreating back, left only to wonder at her words.

[Roen]

The dark, imposing silhouette of the Xaela warrior was the last thing that Roen had expected to see when she visited the cemetery.

 

She herself was not sure why she came to this place, an ice covered hill peppered with burial mounds and gravestones, almost forgotten on the northern side of Coerthas Western Highlands. Perhaps she sought the deserted place for its solemn isolation. Not many lived this far from Falcon’s Nest, after all, for the conditions were too harsh.

 

But the deceased still remained here, entombed beneath the frozen earth. After witnessing the Au Ra female left impaled in the wild, her own losses began to weigh upon her mind, and soon the paladin found herself here amongst the dead. Roen had burnt Nero’s body, and she was far from the oceanic coasts of Vylbrand where she had sent his burning remains to float out into the sea. A part of her longed for the view of the horizon where she had last seen the flickering flames die. And there was no where else that the paladin could go to revisit the memories of the those who were lost, except for this abandoned graveyard.

 

With Khadai’s indifferent attitude toward the female Au Ra still fresh on her mind, Roen did not know what to make of his presence here. He stood stock straight--a stance befitting one of martial discipline--his hand straight at his side as he stared at a gravestone. Roen sensed no meditation or melancholy in his pose, so she came to stand a few yalms behind him. “Khadai.”

 

"You have questions," was all he rumbled back without turning. He did not seem startled by her arrival.

 

"I am surprised to find you here." She did not close the distance between them; she did not want to intrude. "I thought you did not care for the dead."

 

"I do not." His attention remained on the headstone in front of him. “But the Western continent's attachment to those who have passed… understanding that attachment is tied to my understanding of its people as a whole."

 

"Do your people not mourn those who have passed on?"

 

“We do." The answer is flat and immediate. "You would not think so if you watched us, though."

 

"No ceremony then?"

 

"No."

 

"But you feel their loss."

 

"We do not feel the need to display it."

 

Roen ascended the small hill to stand a few fulms away, regarding his profile. She still recalled his cold willingness to dismember the body of the impaled woman just to remove her from the stake. It was something she would have never considered. "How do you dispose of the dead then?"

 

"That depends on the circumstances." A passing wind tossed his green streaked ebony locks over his one exposed shoulder, but the Xaela did not seemed bothered by the prospect of frostbite. "If it is an individual, a shallow grave. If it is many, a mass grave."

 

"And if one of your own was found murdered in the wild?"

 

"A shallow grave," he said after a brief pause. "Unless the body is difficult to remove. The Khadai only bury their dead to mask the losses from our enemy. If one passes in camp, they are removed for the health of all. Otherwise, they are disposed of in the manner that is deemed to be the most efficient and least exhaustive. At times, that means the corpses are abandoned in the wild."

 

Only a quick exhale through her nose betrayed her chagrin. "How practical. Are there no sentimentality allowed?"

 

Khadai responded with a sharp glance from the corner of his eye. "You think my people emotionless and cold. Without thought or feeling. A body is merely that. A body. It is a vessel. A dead body is, too, a vessel. One that no longer carries the mind or spirit of the one who inhabited it. One does not mourn spilled water by grieving over the jug." He paused, then corrected himself. "....Should not."

 

“You do seem intolerant of any sentimentality." Her lips tightened. "Everyone grieves differently. Here, in this land, we remember the dead by treating their body with respect. We may burn them or bury them… there are different ways to depart with those whom you have lost."

 

"The dead should not burden the living," the Au Ra spat out. "They warrant no resources, and only as much attention as is required that they do not adversely affect those around them with disease and carrion. The fuel required to burn a body could warm a hundred dwellings for half a moon. It is… wasteful." There was a frown audible in his voice. "This is a land of abundance, without material hardship, if it is to be using its resources in such a manner."

 

His words gave her pause. "Your land must be harsh indeed, if you have to limit yourself from even a batch of firewood or a jug of oil to burn a body." She had assumed from his demeanor that he placed no value in nostalgia, reminiscence, or civilities. But his interaction with Edda, his dedication to uphold his pact with her even if it would interfere or delay his own plans, it at least spoke something about his honor. And now, she was beginning to glean an understanding of how different his life may have been before coming to Eorzea.

 

"I suppose we do spend resources on how we treat the dead." Her mood had calmed, and her tone dipped with melancholy. "Perhaps it is in a way, making up for the loss we feel when they are gone."

 

"By using resources that would be better spent improving the lives of the living?" He cocked his head at her. "Your people have odd priorities. If a body is to be burned, it is for the sake of keeping the environment clean. Otherwise, to dispose of it with fire is as pointless a gesture as dressing the body, or attempting to feed it."

 

"....do your people do that, as well?" he added after a pause. He sounded half mocking and half serious.

 

"Do not mock the culture you do not know." The frown that rose was immediate and her words came quick and clipped.

 

The Xaela turned his head back to the headstone in front of him. "I was told of the Western continent's practices before I arrived. I still understand very little of it. You are a people of contradictions."

 

It was after a long pause that he spoke again. "...I would ask a question."

 

Roen found her ire fading as quickly as it rose. She had not come here to argue of all things. "Ask."

 

Khadai pointed to the faded headstone. Where there once might have been artistic calligraphy engraved into the stone, wind and time had worn away the grooves and cuts into an illegible scrawl. "There was writing there. Do you know what it says?"

 

She scanned the faded markings on the stone and shook her head. "Nay. But it oft holds a message for one who had passed. Along with their name, perhaps the length of their life."

 

"But it says none of that now. It is a simple engraving. It does not wear easily, and when it does it is simple to maintain." He slightly turned, sweeping his arms to the other headstones around them. "These are similar."

 

"If your people possess such respect for the dead, why are none who lay here remembered? Their names lost. Their purposes unfulfilled. To clean the headstone… it is a trivial matter."

 

Roen knew that his words held no fallacy. This place had been forgotten and abandoned to the unmerciful climate. "The headstones, the graves, the burial. They are all symbols of ceremony. It allows for others to surrender to their grief during the process." Her voice quieted. "Then as their sorrow passes... so do the care of the stones, I suppose." Would she forget her own losses in time? Was that not why she had come to Coerthas? To forcibly forget?

 

"When the loss is raw and fresh, we all need..." Roen paused, searching for the right word. "...We all need ways to cope."

 

"Their causes are abandoned. Their ideals forgotten. What made them people are left behind, to litter the past like these stone markers litter this hill." Khadai shook his head. “Life is meant for the living. That is what we believe."

 

His voice remained stern but without reproach. "We do not waste platitudes on the dead. If those who have passed have earned our respect, we carry on their work. Adopt their ideas. The dead care not for material comforts or verbal expression. To waste moments of our lives giving them what they do not want nor need… that is disrespectful." The Au Ra shrugged. "So it goes."

 

"Sometimes it is easier said than done," Roen murmured.

 

"You burn your bodies here. I have seen the cold areas of your city. 'The Brume'. Why is the firewood not distributed there, instead of being used to dispose of a body?" He gave her a sidelong glance. "The effort to bury, why is that not used to reconstruct? To ignore the living for the dead… I do not expect I will ever understand such a sentiment."

 

The paladin felt her chest sink a little. "The Brume needs much. I... I cannot argue that I too would like to see more resources given to those who are in need. I do not know if you have seen The Pillars. The wealth that is bountiful there. There is a disparity in our society that exists despite logic."

 

"I do not understand. Your people possess resources. Wisdom. Knowledge. This much is evident. Triumphs in architecture. Wealth. Abundance. And yet there are those who are lacking. Those who are sick, and lost. Those who are frightened, hopeless." He shook his head. "This is why I call your people… contradictions."

 

He gestured to the headstone again. "You respect the bodies of the dead, but not why they died, or what causes they carried in life. To be such a people of paradox. I cannot fathom such an existence.”

 

Her frown only deepened. "Not all causes are abandoned. They are just..." Roen had to pause, swallowing the tightness she felt in her throat. "To try and bring equality to all, to try and end the suffering of all who are in need... it is... a dream."

 

"There is greed. Avarice. Pride. All these things are also abundant in our society. Those who have comforts do not want to lose them. Those who lack them, are desperate to do anything to take what they can."

 

"Your people are cynical," he observed. "They have lost the reason and drive both to work towards something better."

 

"Someone once said... cynics are disappointed idealists." Her words did not sound like her own. "There are people who try to work for something better. To help whoever they can. Some even resort to radical means to try and achieve those ends."

 

The paladin dipped her head. "I..." She paused. "It... oft does not end well."

 

Khadai did not answer her immediately, he seemed lost in his own thoughts. "You do not trust the civilization you identify with," he said after a long silence.

 

Roen’s head hung her head low, her auburn forelocks falling before her eyes. They swayed when she shook her head. "I tried," she quietly confessed. "I… we... believed that we could change things for the better. I have only ruination and deaths to show for it."

 

Her frown turned into a scowl. "The world does not want to change. Those who know do not care. And those who care do not know."

 

Khadai glanced at her, a rare expression of sympathy on his face. "There is a parable about such a thing." He shifted his stance, eyes strangely thoughtful. "A priest came upon a blind man who stumbled amid a forest. The blind man would trip and fall, and call for help. In time, the blind man would manage to stand, before tripping once more. The priest asked the blind man what had happened to his eyes. The blind man told the priest, he had lost both of them in battle and been abandoned. He was once a peerless hunter, but without his eyes, the world fell from prosperity to ruin. The priest told the blind man, ‘Change it back’. The blind man became angry, believing the priest to be mocking him, for he could not restore his eyes, nor could he force the world to bend for him. The priest said, ‘Change yourself. You are the foundation for your own world.' And the blind man realized how his senses had sharpened. He could hear every step, smell every scent. And so the blind man became a hunter once more."

 

Roen did not immediately reply. Khadai frowned, and added, "The world is what we make of it. If you change, there is no assurance that your world will change with you. But if you do not change, you may be certain that nothing will."

 

Roen blinked and slowly lowered her gaze, looking at nothing in particular. She stayed silent for a long time. "That is a wise parable,” she finally broke the quiet.

 

Khadai’s gaze upon her was steady and intent. "Do not lose faith in your people."

 

The paladin flicked another glance at the Au Ra, clearly surprised.

 

He was studying her face. "You believed in them before. You must do so again."

 

Roen exhaled, her expression slightly softening. "This is the same people you consider contradictory," she said wryly.

 

He shrugged. "No people are perfect. Mine included. We, too, started with our share of contradictions. We have long since worked past such things. It is easy to close one's eyes and believe that somethings can never change. Easy, and fatal."

 

The Xaela paused, his words slowing as if to carefully deliver its intent. "All meaningful actions begin with a sliver of belief. Belief can destroy armies. Belief can shake mountains and drain oceans. Belief..” he pointed towards the spires of Ishgard. “...is what can create monuments that reach the sky."

 

Khadai kneeled down and picked up a stone. He curled his fingers around it. "One stone creates ripples. Those ripples may become a wave. That wave may drive fish. Those fish may feed fishermen. Those fishermen may in turn care for the ocean."

 

Roen had fallen to silence as she listened, her brow furrowed. "You are an idealist, Khadai. I was not aware," she said softly.

 

"People are finite. Mortality is infallible. Death is unstoppable." He glanced back at her. "Only ideas endure time."

 

The paladin nodded slowly, then once more as if to herself. Her voice had notably softened when she spoke again. "For a foreigner... your ideals are not so strange."

 

The corner of his lip curled upward. "Then I am glad to blend in with at least one aspect, if not the others."

 

A rueful curl twisted her own lips. "Do take care. Such ideas only brought me misery and sorrow." Her expression did not darken despite her words. "But know you are not alone in such beliefs."

 

"I will continue my surveyance." He gave her a slight, almost imperceptible dip of his head, and then turned from Roen and strode away into the snowy fields.

[Nero]

Solitude was a simple thing.

 

The veil of night had fallen over the highlands after Kasrjin had departed from the graveyard, and with it came the deadly chill. There was no fanfare of biting wind or howling of a great storm to accompany the demise of warmth; naught remained but a raw, brisk silence. A brilliant tapestry of stars enveloped the heavens above, solemnly gleaming against the night blue sky, poignantly lighting his surroundings in a pale silver light.

 

He adjusted the furs around him, thin eyebrows twitching in surprise at the western continent's surprisingly hostile environment. The glaciers and mountains among which he had occupied with the majority of his life were unforgiving, and the winters were as fearsome a foe as any number of black-armoured intruders. It would seem that this region was not lacking any number of fangs in that regard; he'd abandoned the metal spaulder and unfolded a short, folded shawl, lined in vanilla-coloured fur that matched his tunic. His boots crunched in the snow, punctuated by the cry of wolves splitting the air and the occasional beating of draconian wings.

 

His patrol of the area was an experience of contrasts. More than once he'd buried himself beneath snow or lain flat against rocky outcroppings to avoid the wildlife or an errant patrol of knights. At other times, his march was surrounded by nothing but hills, mountains, and snow, with nothing to threaten him for miles other than his own thoughts.

 

In a way, the latter was far more dangerous to him.

 

With the sky clear, it would be a simple matter for him to return to the settlement; the grey towers of the fortification he had passed through to enter the highlands peaked in a black silhouette against the glittering canvas above him. Thus, the Xaela felt rather confident in exploring as far as he felt the need to, so long as those towers were within his eyesight. Emerald eyes flashed in the darkness, glancing at everything of note and then some. The seclusion was comforting in a way, and heartrending in another. It had been a nigh uncountable number of suns since he'd landed on the western continent, and though the number of people around Kasrjin had increased considerably, his chest still felt the dark grasp of isolation tugging at him.

 

Solitude was a thoughtful thing.

 

His contemplation and his march practically skidded to a halt. He found himself atop a cliff, just visible enough to see the fires of a secluded military camp that was huddled beneath the stony embrace of an imposing escarpment. What startled him was not his location, however, but the sight he was greeted with that had escaped his conscious notice until he was almost right on top of it.

 

It was a heavy wooden stake, a head and a half taller than him in height, the end sharpened to a fearsome point. And upon it lay the lazily-shrouded body of an Au Ra, a ragged length of tarp barely covering the body's torso. The body was a male Xaela, like himself, though from whom or where he had come from was impossible to tell. The body had obviously been discarded for a disconcerting amount of time, for the telltale blue-green tinge of frostbite had long claimed the body in a frozen rigor mortis and various bits of chilled flesh had been picked by what carrion could brave the harsh cold. Splatterings of dry blood could barely be seen crawling down the length of the stake, though they too had frozen in the chill. The Au Ra's horns had been hacked off with some manner of implement, the horns themselves nowhere to be seen, and though his eyes were closed, his mouth and face had stretched in pain.

 

Kasrjin stood stock still at the sight. It was the second of such he'd seen, and though it did not shock him, the message it carried was blatantly aware.

 

He wasn't welcome here.

 

His hand found itself reaching towards the leather-wrapped handle of his sword, but upon grasping it, he stopped.

 

"Do your people not mourn those who have passed on?"

 

His right hand still lay clenched upon the sword handle, but his left reached into a pocket that had idly been sewn into the folds of his tunic.

 

His left hand grasped the smooth, obsidian pebble. The instant he did, a small, slight burst of warmth spread from his arm to the rest of his body. He could feel even through his gloved hands the engraving that Tsanai had carved into it.

 

His hand dropped from the hilt of his sword.

 

Kasrjin's hand pulled a knife from within the folds of wide outer sleeves. The rigid length of tiger tooth that Nayaga had painstakingly formed into a fearsome blade--despite the scout's admitted clumsiness with tools--easily buried itself deep into the brittle length of the wooden stake. The durable tips of Erdeni's immaculate leather gloves that wrapped his hands made short work of the frozen dirt and snow at the base of the stake, loosening the earth's hold on the shaft.

 

"You do seem intolerant of any sentimentality."

 

His hand reached into his tunic again, grasping Tsanai's runestone. Another jolt of energy coursed itself through him. It was weaker than the first, and barely perceptible, like a final weak heartbeat, but it was enough.

 

With the soil loosened, Kasrjin had managed to bend the stake enough for him to stand with one leg on the ground and the other planted firmly against the hilt of the planted knife. With a heave and a grunt, he planted the top of his head and the palm of his hands firmly against the corpse's back.

 

His ever stoic frown across his face, the Xaela grunted and heaved against the frosted cadaver, with each headbutt and shove of his hands the length of dead weight moved off of the shaft. After several attempts of this, Kasrjin moved to the front of the stake where the fearsome point lay aimed almost at his head. Still panting, the brisk night air biting the inside of his lungs, he bent his legs beneath the body and, with a final mighty shove, forced the body off of the stake.

 

The dead Xaela's stiff corpse unceremoniously popped off the stake like a cork, and the tortured pose the body held prevented it from rolling.

 

The combination of the exertion and the cold had robbed Kasrjin of his breath, and he bent with his hands against his knees to recover. As he did, veridian eyes glowed to examine his deceased compatriot.

 

Solitude was a tiresome thing.

 

"The dead should not burden the living."

 

Familiar words. His own.

 

After a few minutes, he set about to work, gloves reaching into the soil and snow both, peppering the body in a blanket of churned dirt.

 

He shouldn't be here.

 

Kasrjin, in an odd display, circled the body, his knees bent and feet shuffling, throwing snow and dirt clumsily with both hands onto the body until an awkwardly conspicuous mound had formed over it. A conveniently adjacent rock served as a headstone.

 

An uncelebrated grave for an equally uncelebrated individual, whose name would forever be lost.

 

He tossed the harness, sword and all, away from him and collapsed next to the grave, thudding next to it in a slouching sit. A snowfall had begun, his only company after such an endeavour.

 

Solitude was a lonesome thing.

 

A hand reached in to touch the runestone again, but it had no more comfort to give. Isolation's dark grip tugged at him again. The stoic frown still lay artificially plastered on his face, and he felt an ache between his chest. A finger lay on the rune stone and traced the engraving. It was complex, but by now he could recall the pattern through muscle memory alone.

 

His right hand tugged at the base of the glove wrapping his left. It was made perfectly to size, as always. Not a seam or scratch in sight, so carefully was the leather treated and stitched.

 

The bone knife still gleamed at him in the dark, the immaculate polish on the piece reflecting the moonlight.

 

With the snow between his fingers, he closed his eyes, his head resting on the palm of his hand.

 

He could almost imagine familiar mountain passes.

 

The sprig of evergreen hemlock that had been woven into the collar of his tunic had lost its scent. He breathed deep, and exhaled.

 

He could feel his chin begin to tremble, and it was not because of the cold.

 

It was a distant memory, that feeling of clarity. Of certainty. A terrified eye shot itself towards the grave next to him. Hacked off horns. Left on a stake. Nameless, and with none to know the cause.

 

Feelings that were a distant memory.

 

The sensation would be forgotten, with time.

 

He shouldn't be here.

 

Solitude was a painful thing.

 

A wolf's howl jolted him from his reverie. Instinct took over. A hand reached for Ersugen's flawless sword, before cognition reminded him that he had tossed it away from him. Impulse commanded his muscles, and he scrambled for his weapon and its harness.

 

The howl came again. His hands frozen in fear.

 

His mind finally acknowledged the sound. It was too far away to be a threat.

 

For several long seconds that felt like years, Kasrjin lay sprawled on the dirt and snow, hand frozen in desperation to reach the length of blued steel.

 

His fingers grasped the leather-wrapped hilt, and pulled it towards him.

 

The Xaela stood up, not a second glance being spared to the slipshod grave he'd left.

 

The harness again affixed to his back, tunic brought in order. Legs locked straight in a martial stance. Stoic expression on his face. He walked over and pulled the knife from the stake, shoving it into its sheath affixed to the inside of his sleeve.

 

He could still see the fortifications in the distance.

 

A deep breath.

 

And he marched again.