Good Enough - Chapter 1 - Letoiusprime (2024)

Chapter Text

The gentle waves impacting the stone spires of Limsa Lominsa was her happy place. The evening sun shone across the sea, painting the waters with strokes of oranges and pinks. Sparkles like diamonds were interwoven with the colours, creating a tapestry of glittering glory. It was times like this that she wished she could draw, or paint. To hold onto this moment forever.

Vira Vanille, a girl barely nine summers of age, kicked her legs back and forth as she sat on the edge of the wooden docks. Most kids weren’t allowed down there, too much bad stuff could happen according to the other kids she knew, but Vira wasn’t most kids.

For starters, where others had round or pointed ears, Vira instead sported budding, curled horns. She knew that, when she got older, they would get bigger and more pointed just like her mum’s, but for now they just looked like the coiled pastries the shops sold. Large parts of her skin, especially her face and neck, were covered in pale scales the same texture as her horns, and a short tail that still had much to grow. Secondly, her mother was one of the most feared pirates in the city.

The Auri child wore a simple but not inexpensive outfit of layered browns and greens, consisting of a lace-up tunic over a warm undershirt, sturdy cloth pants, and waterproof leather boots. Warm enough to block the brisk chill of the ocean gales, yet not so smothering as to swelter her in the sun’s rays. Simple spectacles rested across her face, sitting comfortably in a groove in the scales across the bridge of her nose.

A part of her longed for the seas, for the open waters. Until recently, it had been all she had ever known. Having been born aboard the Eventide, the vessel her mother had been first mate of, Vira had grown up in the midst of blood and battle. A pirate’s life, through and through.

Of course, for every drop of blood the young girl had been forced to see, for every nightmare of booming canons and glistening blades that haunted the child, there was revelry, comradery. A bigger family than most would ever know.

A sad smile crossed Vira’s face. It was a haunted smile, one that such a young soul should not know the depths of. Vira knew that, but that did not change the fact she wore it nonetheless. She guessed that was the other reason she was not like the children she now found herself in the company of.

She grabbed the book beside her, a small, leather bound tome Vira took comfort in writing in. She was sure her parents were starting to grow worried at her absence, even if she was competent for her age, she was still only nine. The Au Ra hustled through the winding roads and bridges of Limsa Lominsa, weaving through lesser known routes and shortcuts with a comfortable ease.

Despite not having grown up in the city, Vira was an explorer at heart, and spent the better part of most days exploring the nooks and crannies of the maritime nation. She had gotten in trouble more than once for her antics, though thankfully nothing more than a scolding from the guards on account of her age.

Before she knew it, Vira found herself standing before an old wooden door, perpetually damp and with marks of rot. After decades of piracy, Vira’s mum could afford much better, but she had always told Vira that it was best not to flaunt your wealth. She who spends her gil may be a happy woman, Vira’s mother had told her, but she who saves it is a successful one.

As such, their homestead was not one of glory and wonder, but a small hovel built into one of the many stone spires Limsa Lominsa was built upon. Vira reached for the door handle, but found herself hesitating. An unfamiliar voice could be heard from within.

Careful as to not make a sound, Vira pushed one of her horns against the old door, listening to the talks within.

“Are you sure, healer?” Her father’s voice, a raw, worried tone evident in his hushed words.

“I am. Without the power of the arcane, strong power, I have doubts as to whether she’ll survive.” An unfamiliar voice, presumably the healer, spoke. Sorrow was evident in his speech. “Even if she should, there is no telling in what state she shall be for the rest of her days.”

“How much time do you think she has?”

“Enough of this!” A new voice entered the conversation, that of her mother. “I’m fine. You needn’t speak for me, my health is in perfect condition.”

“Ma’am, you can’t be serious! You-” The healer began, before he took a brief pause and sighed. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good. Now piss off.”

Vira darted down the path and around a bend upon hearing steps approach the door from within. She did not manage to catch a glimpse of the leaving healer, but if she had heard right, it sounded like she probably wouldn’t be seeing, or hearing, the man again regardless. Her mum had sounded upset.

Careful to wait ten or so minutes as to avoid suspicion, Vira quietly inched her way inside. Both of her parents seemed to have already retreated to their bedroom, a thought swiftly confirmed by the muffled argument from within. Not willing to push her luck any further, Vira followed suit and went to her own room.

There was no doubt in her mind that mum was sick. Vira knew she was a woman too prideful to admit weakness, even to herself. Which meant if she wouldn’t help herself, Vira would make sure she would. She would be a good daughter. She wouldn’t fail.

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Thunder roiled across scorned skies, flashes of lightning illuminating the heavens in infrequent flashes. Heavy rains poured down, hammering against the wooden deck and leaving it slick, hard to move across.

The buffeting winds only served to worsen the ordeal, sending pellets of ice-cold rain against her face. The windstorm had already robbed the child of her glasses, leaving her vision even blurrier than it had been with the water-speckled accessory. It would be a long time before she’d be able to replace them with a good pair.

She was thankful the invaders aboard the Eventide were dressed in uniform, unlike her own crew. Despite the blurriness, the child was able to pick out who to avoid in the bustle of clanging blades and stray musket shots.

Through the haze, she could see her mother. Wielding a cutlass in one hand and a musket in the other, she was a whirlwind of death on the battlefield. As first mate, she had been instructed to act as the bodyguard of the Captain, but had been forced apart in the midst of battle.

Vira turned her gaze, searching for the distinctive form of the Captain. A hulk of a Hrogthar, with gleaming white fur, he always stood out among both allies and enemies, for better or for worse.

He stood at the helm, spinning the wheel frantically in an attempt to keep the damaged vessel steady in the storm. The quarterdeck was void of enemies, none able to pass the swirling blades of the troops standing at the bottom of the stairs - aside from one.

A single warrior, a bulky Hyur, slipped past the troops in the flurry. Silently creeping, it seemed all but Vira were too preoccupied to take notice of the armed individual. They stepped behind the Captain, blade drawn.

Vira tried to cry out, to scream in warning, but no words could escape her throat in the high winds. She felt as if she were choking on air. Without thought, Vira ran from her cover, towards the door to the Captain’s office below the helm. Maybe the Captain would see her and notice something was wrong, maybe she’d be able to get a word out and warn him, maybe she-

The Captain lurched forwards, a silent cry visible on his features even through her blurry vision. The tip of the sword pushed through his sternum, buried in the other side. With audible effort, the attacker dug their blade sideways, tearing flesh and bone until it finally found freedom. Only the Captain’s iron grip on the helm, even in death, stopped the blade from merely dragging his body aside.

Vira felt liquid hit her face. Not the cold bite of the rain, but globs of something warm and heavy - blood. The child could do nothing, her bones frozen in place. She had failed. It was her fault. She wasn’t good enough. Everything went dark.

The dream faded.

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“Excuse me, sir!” Vira pulled at the jacket of a Roegadyn man. He had dark skin, unlike the other Roegadyn who Vira had seen around Limsa Lominsa, and wore garb that she did not recognize. More important to Vira, though, was the long, wooden staff strapped to his back. “Do you know magic?”

He looked annoyed at the little girl pulling him off the street, but also seemed willing to indulge the child. After two seasons of trial and error, Vira had learned to judge who would ignore her, who would indulge her, and who would yell at her quite well.

Her mother’s condition had continued to worsen, yet she remained as prideful and stubborn as ever. Her father, a man who had always been distant in more ways than one, seemed agitated, but not willing to push the issue. If neither of her parents were going to look after themselves, then Vira would have to herself!

As such, she had been looking into what she had overheard the healer mention that night - healing through magic. The kind of healing Vira needed wasn’t taught anywhere in Limsa Lominsa, and even the kinds that were had guild fees far too high for her. Instead, she had taken to the riskier but necessary method of begging strangers on the street who looked like they had some kind of magical skills.

“I’m trained in some conjury, aye.” His voice was gruff, the expression worn not one of pleasantness, but Vira could see a kindness in his eyes. As if he were trying to hide it. “What’s it to ye, kid?”

“My mum’s sick,” Vira pleaded, giving her best ‘weak and desperate child’ look. It didn’t take much effort. “The healers said she needed magic to fix her. Can you help? Please?”

The Roegadyn looked conflicted, a barely restrained remorseful grimace blooming on his face. “I- Listen kid, I wan’ to ‘elp, really, but me boat leaves at the bell. I just can’t wait any longer.”

“Sir, please! No one els-” Vira began, but was shushed as he pulled her aside and kneeled down. He still towered over her.

“Can ye read?” Nod. “‘ere. Take this.”

Vira watched as he pulled a bound book out of his satchel, not unlike Vira’s own journal, though it was significantly more weathered. The covers were frayed, and sported a large stain that looked to have been from spilled ink. Her eyes were wide in wonder.

“This was me journal, back when I was just a lad.” He placed it in her hands, the book overly large in her small hands. “It ‘as all me know-how from three dozen seasons back. I don’t need it anymore.”

It took a moment for Vira to shake herself out of her wanderlust, her mouth agape and eyes wide. “T-thank you, sir! This is… wow.”

He chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder and locking his eyes with hers. “It’s yers now. Don’t squalor this chance. Help yer mum. Be a great conjurer someday.”

“Y-yes sir, I will!” Vira leapt forward, hugging the larger man best she could. After a moment of freezing up, the Roegadyn seemed to return it tentatively with a single arm. “Oh! Here, take this!”

Vira separated herself from the kind, and rather confused, stranger with a smile, before reaching for the pouch tied around her waist. “This is for you, sir! I’ve been trying to find something that could help for moons, and you just… Thank you!”

The man seemed taken aback at the decidedly not insignificant heft of the coin purse placed in his hand. “Kid, I-”

Vira took off, book in hand and a skip in her step. Good people deserved to be rewarded, and she wasn’t going to let the man try to talk her into taking her money back. Besides, she thought a few thousand gil was a fair trade for a journal.

She tucked the book under her tunic, not wanting to risk it being lost or stolen as she travelled the winding roads of Limsa Lominsa. If this was truly the chance she thought it was, it wasn’t worth the risk.

Upon reaching the old, damaged door of her home, the Auri child dug her heels in and forced herself to breathe. Her mum would be suspicious if she came back panting, afraid she’d earned the ire of someone dangerous with her pestering at the Aftcastle…. Again. She wasn’t going to stress her out if she could avoid it.

With a final, full-body breath, Vira stepped inside. The interior was as cramped as the shoddy door would suggest, with only three rooms and a low ceiling, and a single, cheap painting of her mum.

Of course, that didn’t account for the five hidden compartments behind furniture and hidden among the floor chock full of millions of gil, and the panic room carved out behind the painting.

Sitting in the corner of the main room, at a table with one leg too short, was her mother. Instinctively, Vira went to scold her for being out of bed, but thought better of it before the words left her mouth. She couldn’t watch her mother’s denial today.

A summer and some prior, her mum would have cut an imposing sight, even in their dinky home. Her hair was the same kelp-green as Vira’s own, tied up in a high ponytail, in order to both keep it out of her face, and to keep her horns exposed.

Unlike most of their kind, Vira’s mum’s horns were massive, extending almost past the back of her head as they curled, and almost seven ilms past her jaw. Moreso, they were barbed, like some kind of insect stinger. That, along with her unique style of combat, was the reason she had come to be known as Nanami Nishi: The Dragon of the Indigo Deep.

Now, though, she was a pale imitation of her former self, in a quite literal sense. Her once sharp eyes, blue as the depths, were sunken and hollow, the spark that Vira had known to inhabit them void and lost. Her skin, once tanned and lined with muscles, was deathly pale and borderline spindly.

Nonetheless, she was Vira’s mother, and the angry expression she bore upon seeing her return threatened to make her wilt. Her voice, despite having an underlying rasp, was hard. “Vira Vanille, where have you been?”

“Um…” Vira tried her best to put on an innocent face. “Out?”

Her mum sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Try again.”

“By the docks?”

“Again.”

“...at the Aftcastle.”

“Vira!” Nanami scolded, her voice raised. Vira flinched, but resisted the urge to cower. “Have I not forbade you from your… pestering? Kami forbade, it’s a miracle no one’s smacked you yet.”

They have, Vira wanted to say. Multiple times, in fact. It had been awkward hiding the bruises and scrapes at first, but over time she’d learned how to avoid most of them, turning the issue moot. But, her mum would have been a lot less lenient on allowing her out of the house if she knew, so Vira kept quiet. For her sake. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“I’ve heard that before, girl.” Nanami said.

“I promise, mum.” Vira said, evening the tremble in her voice. “I promise.”

Vira’s mum looked her up and down pointedly, though her sunken features somewhat undercut the glare. “Fine. Go to your room, and don’t come out until I say so.”

“Yes, mum,” Vira said. Without another word between them, Vira locked herself in the room for the foreseeable future. She didn’t mind a few days of solitary confinement, especially as she had already intended to do exactly that herself, desperate to pour over her new book.

With giddy excitement, only mildly dampened by her mother’s anger, Vira began reading. Over the next several weeks, the young Au Ra was practically glued to the journal, reading through the hefty tome in only a few days. Her punishment lasted longer than she had thought, with meals only brought when her mum occasionally visited every three or four days, but Vira was more than happy to forgo some meals in favour of unrestricted time with her new holy grail.

The journal began with the Roegadyn’s early training, from the Conjurer’s Guild in Gridania. There was no name found among the pages, but Vira was able to piece together fragments of the man’s past from anecdotes and notes scrawled in the margins. Apparently, he had been a healer, a non-magical one, from Ala Mhigo in his youth, but when the city fell to invaders and he was unable to help those who needed treatment, he travelled to Gridania to learn a new branch of healing. It was a noble reason to learn, and Vira could guess why it was he had been sympathetic to her plight.

Vira swiftly realised that learning even the most basic aspects of conjury would be… unorthodox. Conjurers apparently trained in the Twelveswood, where nature was vibrant and the Elementals could guide you. Out here, all the way on Vylbrand, Vira had no such guidance, though as she read on, she realised that she may not have needed it as much as she anticipated.

As it turned out, her nameless mentor had lacked much of that very guidance. Gridania, and the Elementals of the Twelveswood, had rejected him at first. Vira wasn’t sure why, he never said in his notes, but it had cost him everything to even be given a chance to learn at the Conjurer’s Guild. The Elementals had begrudgingly accepted his presence, as had the Guild, but neither made his life, or his learning, easy. He had been forced to learn much of what he knew on his own. His misfortune was a lucky break for Vira, as his notes began from the most basic steps conceivable.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks to moons, as Vira practiced. Her punishment had come and gone, and Vira had often found herself farther and farther from home. With no forest readily available for practice, she often ended up back at the docks. Her guidebook suggested listening for the Elementals, for even if she couldn’t hear them like Gridanian Hearers could, it would help if she could feel their presence. Without the Elementals present all the way in Limsa Lominsa, Vira instead took to trying to feel for the water sprites at the docks. Both were aetherial in nature, so hopefully the results would be similar.

After failing to feel anything at the docks for several moons, Vira instead took to the wilds of La Noscea in hopes she’d be more receptive to the sprites farther from civilizations. The trips were difficult to make without either of her parents realising, and the time she could spend there was limiting. Finally, however, she began to feel.

It was an oddly familiar sensation, one she almost failed to recognize. A small pressure in the back of her mind, though not one of annoyance or pain, but of comfort. Like thumbing a familiar trinket, or the squeeze of a friend’s hand in the dark. It was a pressure that reminded her she existed, that she was connected, that she was alive. She had felt it often before, in the untamed wilds of the seas where man had barely ventured.

All the while, Vira’s mum grew worse. An unwillingness to leave the house turned to an unwillingness to leave the bed. Her father would often search for new healers, spending thousands of the gil Nanami had worked so hard to obtain. On occasion, Vira could see the anger in her mum’s eyes, but she had grown too weak to argue.

Vira accelerated her training. She taught herself how to bring forth her own aether, first practicing at the aetheryte in the plaza, moving farther and farther as she tried to connect with it, before finally being able to hold the soft glow of her own, aimless aether in her hands.

Next came the wand. Most Conjurers found, or were gifted, their foci, but Vira had no such luxury. She travelled deeper into the wilds, no longer caring about getting caught. Her father was so busy looking for the next healer he hardly noticed her absences, and her mother was too sickly to do anything about them.

She taught herself how to camp, dim memories of stories both read and heard guiding her actions. After spending nearly a week in the wilds, Vira finally found what she needed for a focus. Many wooden foci could only be crafted when the tree was at a particular stage in it’s life, or at the right time of year. After that, Vira pushed her own aether into the branch, whittling it as she went. The end result was crude and pitiful, but it was something. With her new focus, a carved twig of lemonwood that branched into three prongs, Vira began to shape her aether.

Over a year had passed to reach even the most basic of points. With no teacher but a half-complete notebook from a kind stranger, learning the basics had been triple the trouble it would have been for anyone else learning the art. She couldn’t help but think her progress was too slow.

Vira’s mum had recently started going days without waking, only riled by her father or the healers. She had no doubt he had found many able to cure her, but all those who could went running when they realised who they were dealing with. The Dragon had grown well known in the summers passed before retirement, and any magical healers who may have been powerful enough to cure her, were also well-versed enough to know not to get mixed up with her. Half the seas would hunt down whoever healed her; she was not without enemies.

Only one course of action was viable to the girl: work harder. What little social life Vira had once had, had already withered, but she was willing to cut off what was left. Less distractions, less people to worry about, less time she had to spend in the city. A week out of town turned to two, skipping a night of sleep to keep training swiftly morphed to skipping two, or three, or four. The small Au Ra had noticed she was losing weight, the outlines of her ribs visible when she bathed and her cheeks gaunt in the water’s reflection. Her green hair, once a dark and rich verdant, was murky and wiry. She’d push on.

After much trial and error, Vira felt like a husk of herself. Desperate to channel her aether, shape it into something useful through her wand, Viira had forgone even more meals. She’d run out of food supplies a week ago, and the time it took her to hunt and forage was too great. Finally, finally, Vira succeeded.

The first spell was something pitiful and small, barely able to heal a scraped knee. Once she had figured out how to shape and channel her aether, however, the rest seemed to fall into place. At first she practiced on the wild animals, injured by monsters or hunters, but not finished for one reason or another. It was a draining process, but one she was proud to say worked a charm.

Next, came healing ailments. The shift in aether was not too different, and Vira quickly found herself able to cast what she believed to be a modified form of Esuna. It was weaker than the spell should have been, but she hoped with enough time, it would be enough.

The Raen child proudly returned to Limsa Lominsa, having spent nearly three weeks in the wild since her last return, twenty-two suns of pure training, she had never been quite so confident in her newfound abilities. She ignored the side-eye looks she got from the townsfolk as she returned home, uncaring whether their looks were out of prejudice against her scales, or worry for her sunken features.

It did not take long for her to reach her home. “Mum! Dad! I’m back!”

Silence.

Vira took a hesitant step forward. It was late, but not so late for her dad to be asleep. Maybe he was out looking for new healers? Regardless, Vira mulled about the room, picking up an only somewhat overdue apple from the counter and taking a bite out of it. Her movements were practiced, the route around the house a routine whenever she returned home.

Completing the circuit, Vira turned to her mother’s room. This was it. She was finally able to put all her training to use. She could do this. With a deep breath, Vira took one more bite out of the apple, prior to spitting it out as she reached the apparently rotten core.

She stepped in, standing beside the still-sleeping form of her mother. It frightened Vira how much her own reflection had begun to resemble her dying mother, but it was a thought quickly pushed out of her head.

Vira closed her eyes, gripped her wand, and concentrated. The warm flood of her natural aether reserves poured from her, through her wand, and into her mum’s body. She kept pouring, emptying any scrap of the magic within her into the spell. A beat passed. Then another. Another. Nothing happened.

Mind filled with exhaustion and trepidation, Vira cracked open the lids of her eyes. Surely, her spell should have worked? Did she do something wrong? Was the wand not good enough? Was she not good enough?

“Why can’t I be good enough…?” she whimpered, reaching for her mother’s limp hand.

Vira went stiff. It was cold. Too cold.

“No…” Vira droned, barely conscious of her own words. “No, no, no, no! I won’t let you go!”

She’d be good enough. She had to be good enough.

Vira felt as if she had been set aflame the instant she’d begun the new spell. She hadn’t trained for this. It was too advanced for a self-taught novice, too dangerous. She had emptied what aether she had in the original spell, running only what fumes remained. Her neglected body ached under the stress of the spell.

The gentle light emanating from her wand began to flicker like a candle in the wind, her aether stretched and beaten to its limit. She refused to give in, tapping into a deeper pool of aether within her. Such a pool wasn’t meant to be expended like this, through magic. The notes she’d read said it was akin to cannibalising the soul, a dangerous practice that typically left the caster dead or dying. She didn’t care.

Like a blow to the gut, Vira suddenly found her lungs devoid of air. She instinctively gasped, only to find her throat closed up. Every muscle in her body was tense, it felt as if tendons would start snapping on their own. The warmth that once flowed from her turned colder than ice. She willed herself to go on, only to find she no longer needed to; now that the floodgates were open, she could do nothing to stop it. Despite the pain, she doubted she would have if she could.

A sharp pain blossomed from the bridge of her nose, and she could feel warm liquid begin running down her nostrils and the back of her throat. It made her want to cough, if not for her locked up body. The edges of her vision grew dim.

As her lightheadedness seemed to reach a breaking point, Vira saw her limbs in front of her begin to glow a pale azure. A pressure in the back of her mind seemed to break towards the forefront, intrusive, but not aggressive.

“Calm yourself,” A boy’s voice echoed from within her. “Let me guide your hand, lest your commitment go to waste.”

Vira had no time to question the hallucinatory voice, not when the piercing cold suddenly left her limbs in a tangle of warmth. Her vision cleared, suddenly unnaturally sharp, while even the dull colours of her mother’s room seemed to pop with vibrancy. It felt as if she was one with the world, the same feeling as sensing the aetheric sprites in the wilderness, only honed beyond reason. The waves buffeting the white-stone spires below, the moss that grew in the damp shade of the lower levels, the barnacles on the ships in port. A vibrant web of life and motion, all acutely aware to the child. The feeling was incredible.

As fast as the sensation had come, it faded, and the last thing Vira saw before collapsing, was her mum gasping for air.

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“What were you thinking!?” Nanami screamed. Her eyes were eerily similar to the expression she wore on the battlefield, in contrast to Vira’s own tear-filled ones. “You cost us the haul of a lifetime!”

Nanami had been given access to the Captain’s Quarters in order to scold her daughter, which she was now pacing in aggressively. Vira knew she had a reputation of being calm and easygoing no matter what, so yelling at her in full eyesight and earshot of the crew was a bad idea. Vira came quietly, not wanting to make anything worse.

“On top of that, you somehow cost us the life of our best lock picker!” The woman looked scary, fingers reflexively twitching for her gun as if Vira were just another problem that could be blown away.

Vira continued to sit quietly on the floor, before she realised the pause was an invitation to speak. “But mu-”

“Oh, ‘but mum’ this, ‘but mum’ that, I am so sick of hearing that f*cking phrase!” Nanami cursed. Her tail flicked about in agitation, threatening to knock over one of the many trinkets the Captain had adorned his office with.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Vira cried. “Jax pu-”

“So it’s all Jax’s fault now, is it? Why can’t you just own your f*ck ups like the rest of us?” Nanami glared, daring Vira to say something. Her tail twitched violently.

“The rope w-wasn’t tied ri-” Vira started, only to be interrupted by the clatter of metal and the shattering of glass.

The untempered, flailing whips of Nanami’s tail had knocked an ornate ship in a bottle off of a nearby shelf. Glass shards scattered across the cabin’s floor, littered with smaller pieces of wood and metal from the miniature ship itself. Nanami trembled in barely contained fury, looking for something to lash out at that wouldn’t break. Unfortunately, the nearest thing that met that requirement was Vira herself.

She saw it coming, but feared moving or trying to block the blow would only incur further punishment. It wasn’t the first time the child had taken a blow, though that didn’t stop the sharp pain that blossomed from her stomach, and the sudden urge to throw up that overcame her. She bit back the queasiness with tears now flowing openly, instinctively curling around her stomach where she had been kicked.

A look of shock and regret washed across Nanami’s face, her eyes wide in something close to fear. “Kami forgive, I’m so sorry, Cabbage!”

Vira said nothing, her head hung low in a desperate desire for the world to fade away, for it all to end.

“A bittersweet memory, isn’t it?” A voice called from behind the Captain’s desk. It was ethereal, echoing despite the small room.

“Wh-what?” Vira sputtered, the panic and fear she’d felt moments ago fading in an instant. The world seemed to lurch without moving, and her vision turned vivid and crisp. It would have felt artificial, if not for how even the most boring plank of the cabin walls seemed rife with newfound beauty. “What’s happening? This isn’t right!”

“Calm down, you’re okay. You’re okay.” The voice said. Vira turned, and found herself seeing a boy who couldn’t have been more than a few summers older than she. He was garbed in white and red robes, spotless and pristine in make, that hung to his knees. What caught Vira’s attention, however, was his pale, almost sickly skin. It was grey as the Roegadyn she often saw, despite clearly not having the build of one. Atop his head were straight, white horns with black tips. Strapped across his back was a gold and white staff, encrusted with a single, massive, blue jewel.

“Who are you? What’s happening?” Vira cried. Her mother seemed to be frozen in place, her form hazy.

He chuckled under his breath, a somewhat melancholy smile whispered across his face. “Well, I’m a friend, and this is a dream. Now please calm down, or I fear our time together shall be even briefer than it would be otherwise.”

Vira whirled in place, trying to make sense of the stranger’s words. The fight, the injury, the casting, all began rushing back into Vira’s thoughts. A small, scared gasp slipped from her lips. “Am I…?”

“Dead? Ha! No, though not for lack of trying.” He lent down, extending a hand to help her up. After a moment’s hesitation, she took it. “Can’t say I’ve seen someone as young as you try to cast like that before, let alone with their own aether.”

Vira brought her hand to her head, her thoughts still murky to the odd dreamstate she found herself in. “I should be dead. I’ve read about what happens when you use up too much aether. Why am I not dead?”

A sad look crossed the boy’s face as he considered his next words. “You were going to die, so I… gave you a little nudge, in the right direction. I re-focussed your spell, shifted its flow just a little, enough to draw from the waters around you.”

“But how?” Vira emphasized. “Who are you? Why did you help me?”

The walls began to grow wispy, as if the room was turning to mist. “I am sorry, young Vira. We are out of time.”

“Bu-!” She was cut off as the boy pushed his finger to her lips.

“I wish I could leave you with better news, but I feel it’s only right to warn you.” The mysterious boy’s voice took on a serious tone that seemed beyond his age. “You have been asleep for a long time, a necessity to recover after your ordeal. She didn’t wait for you. I’m sorry.”

She tried to question him, a desperate attempt to ring answers out of the boy, but her voice rang silent. A cry, a shout, a scream, all without substance as the world around her turned to fog.

The dream faded.

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Vira did not wake with a jolt, or panic, or shock. She woke with stiff limbs, the worst headache she had ever experienced, and a feeling of utter dread. She was in her room, tucked under layers of frayed and threadbare blankets, with nothing but the distant rumbles of the tide lapping against the spires.

Hesitantly, Vira donned her glasses and wriggled her way out from the tangle of fabrics and cloths. Her legs felt weak when she got them under her, cracking loudly at the joint after who-knows-how-long of disuse. Lifting her tunic and running a hand along her side, what were once outlines of ribs were now clearly defined ridges.

“Hello? Mum? Dad?” Vira called. The silence that filled the home was made all the more deafening now that her speech had broken it. Her steps were clumsy and sluggish, the dizziness from her throbbing head refusing to subside.

She opened the old, wooden door out of her room, the rusted hinges creaking violently. Red dust fell, and Vira realised the door hadn’t been used in a while. A week? Two?

The main room’s table had a loaf of bread on it, spots of mould starting to grow in spots. Stuck to it with a kitchen knife was a note. She hobbled over to the food, ripping the note free without bothering to remove the utensil. It read:

Dear Cabbage,

I don’t know how you did it, but good job. The experience has taught me there is much of life to live, and I have not been living it as I should. I have fixed up the Eventide, and begun reassembling the crew, old and new. I look forward to seeing the woman you become.

Sincerely, Nanami Nishi.

She read the message again. And again. She kept rereading the brief note until the tears welling in her eyes rendered the text illegible. This was it? This was it?! She had spent years practicing, spending every waking moment dedicated to learning the magic needed to help, and this was the end? Not even a thank you?!

Vira didn’t realise when she’d started to tremble, her body shaking in barely constrained emotion. She was in a f*cking coma, to save her, and she left? And Twelve knew where her father was? Certainly not here to greet her, to comfort her.

“f*ck you!” she sobbed, the curse alien on her tongue. She brought her fist down on the wooden table, her hand coming away bloodied and full of splinters. She didn’t need them. She had herself. She had proven she could take care of herself in the wilds. She could hunt, she could heal, she could fight. She was good enough. She was good enough!

/-/

Her first night… could have gone better.

She had looted what gil Nanami hadn’t taken with her from the house, using it to buy a pack of goods, a staff to replace her wand, food, and a handful of other necessities to survive the great outdoors.

Admittedly, she wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do, now that she was on her own. She did what she was told on the Eventide, had spent the last couple years dedicated to teaching herself conjury, and the interim merely exploring the less-travelled paths of Limsa Lominsa.

She needed a plan, structure. Her gil wouldn’t last forever, but she could stretch it as much as possible. Forage and hunt for food, walk in favour of aetheryte, work for travel by ship.

First things first, she had needed to get away from Limsa Lominsa, from Vylbrand. The mainland would be unfamiliar, but she couldn’t bring herself to stay. Unfortunately, she had failed to take into account one, critical factor into her plan: the moon.

Over the past year, the lesser of the twin moons, Dalamud, had been growing a sickening crimson, and getting… bigger. Closer. She had obviously noticed, who hadn’t, but she had been more concerned with the pressing matter of her mother’s nearing death. The people had grown frantic, however, and ships to and from the mainland had grown increasingly expensive as people went to visit loved ones. Even her coffers wouldn’t be able to comfortably afford the inflated prices.

Without the ability to charter a ride, Vira instead spent her first day milling about in the wilderness of La Noscea, gathering a handful of fruits and wild vegetables to complement her diet of poorly preserved jerky and water. Walking was still somewhat of a struggle, each step sending an aching ripple from her legs and up her spine, and come dusk she was forced to limp with every movement despite the regular healing spells she cast on herself.

Finally, she decided to yield to the pain, opting to spend the rest of the night resting in the wilderness until slumber claimed her. Camp was easy to set up, despite her injuries, with little more than a canvas tent and a small flame to tend to. She sat upon an only mildly uncomfortable rock, and gazed into the sky.

The stars were as beautiful as ever, twinkling in more colours Vira had ever seen elsewhere. When she was younger, she remembered lying on the deck of the Eventide after most of the crew had retreated to their bunks, and the world became nothing but the waves below her, and the stars above. The waves were distant now, barely audible in the distance, but the feeling was the same. She liked it.

Of course, when looking to the heavens these days, her eyes were naturally drawn to the anomaly. The looming ruby orb in the distance, once so high it almost looked like a star itself, seemed to hang. Even from across the strait, Vira could see the clouds swirling around it, embracing it. For the first time since it had turned red, Vira began to wonder: would she be okay?

She supposed even if she wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter for long. At least she saved her mu- no. At least she learned the truth about Nanami. That felt better. If it really was the end of the world like some people feared, she couldn’t help but think that she wanted to go out peacefully. She didn’t bother returning to her tent, as she laid back on the stone, and let the stars be the last thing she may ever see.

/-/

Vira couldn’t help but feel strange. Her thoughts, usually moving faster than she could keep up with, were slow. Like they were stuck in bog. Was she dead? Had she died in her sleep?

No, that wasn’t right. She knew she was alive.

Without warning, a foreign sentiment forced its way into her mind, violently and clumsily. She did not fear, though, at least not much, for despite having no substance, it was unmistakable where it had appeared from. Aid from her mysterious friend, once more.

What she did fear was what the sentiment was, however. A pure, unbridled panic, conveying only one thought:

Run.

/-/

Vira’s eyes shot open, and she had to resist the urge to immediately close them as she was met with blinding light racing overhead. The once-clear skies had evidently fled while she slept, replaced with the thick layers of roiling clouds that surrounded the crimson moon.

Another flash of light surged overhead, followed moments later by explosions in the distance and a quake that made her glad she had yet to rise to her feet. In the brief moment before fear sunk in, the girl couldn’t help but be awestruck by the sight. The foreign thought pushed its way into her head once more, almost overwhelming her. Run.

Not one to ignore advice, no matter how frightening the method of delivery on said advice was, Vira ran. The ache in her lower limbs and spine had not subsided in the night, and it seemed her sudden jolt awake and her less-than-thought-out sleeping arrangement had left them burning as she sprinted.

She had wasted no time on packing up or grabbing her satchel, she could always recover it after…. Whatever this was. It would only slow her down.

Of course, she had no idea where exactly she was to run to, merely that she needed to flee. Her head darted left and right, scanning the land for anywhere to hide. The city was too far, as were the forests. The sea? She didn’t know how long the rivers of fire would be crashing down for, and she feared her still-weak self wouldn’t be able to tread water for long enough.

A great, horrendously awful, screeching roar seemed to ripple through the air. All encompassing, the air grew humid and warm, as if she were being breathed on by some mighty beast. Finally, despite her body’s wishes, the adrenaline coursing through her had begun to fade. She stopped, forced to catch her breath, and turned to face Dalamud. Fatigued and injured, the fear came like a flood.

No longer was the red moon, impaled like a pincushion, its looming body almost a staple of the times. Where once was a sphere of scarlet was now a burning ball of flame, brighter than the very sun itself. Atop, barely discernible through the glow and haze, was the indistinguishable silhouette of a pair of wings.

With newfound terror, Vira sprinted until her legs flared with agony and then some. All sense of rationality fled her mind, as every thought became overwhelmed with the raw instinct of ‘survive.’ The all-encompassing sound of blood roaring through her began to block out the pandemonium around her, each pounding step sending shockwaves through her bones.

For an instant, it felt like she was back in the dream, with the horned, mystery boy. Every colour popped, the grass no longer a mat of green, but a forest of individual blades. The world came into focus in a way she never dreamed possible, and Vira could feel it. As if the land itself was screaming.

The second of distraction proved to be the young Au Ra’s undoing. She wasn’t sure what it was she caught her foot on, perhaps a rock or a root, but before she could realise what happened, Vira found herself stumbling forward. In an attempt to catch herself, Vira ended up twisting mid-fall, slamming her shoulder into the mud. Her momentum carried her further, the grinding of mud against her skin and clothes growing painful, until she once more found herself tumbling downwards. Mud turned to hard stone, jagged points of rock now cutting at her flesh. The hill evened out, but her momentum kept her going until she finally hit a wall, her head impacting it with a sickening crack.

Dimly, she was aware she wasn’t outside anymore, that above her was the wet stone ceiling of a cave and not the skies filled with fire. She managed to stand up, carried only by adrenaline. She felt the warm stick of blood running down the side of her face, thankfully avoiding her eye. Her hearing felt off, muffled and muted on her right side, and it wasn’t until she brought a bloodied hand to her horn that she realised why. A large fragment of her right horn hadn’t only been cracked, but completely knocked out, leaving a substantial hole in the hollow, sensitive, organ.

Vira began to reach for her wand in hopes of healing the myriad of other cuts and injuries she had, lest she risk infection, but was stopped when the world rocked. Stones began to fall from the ceiling as a pillar of golden light exploded heavenward from beyond the entrance of the cavern.

A blast of heat came rolling down from outside, filling the dank chamber with steam. Vira’s grit finally broke as the hot air burned her exposed flesh, an involuntary scream spilling forth from her mouth. It was silent and unheard against the roaring explosions above.

Time seemed to drag on, agonisingly slow to the increasingly delirious Au Ra. Burns blotted her limbs, blindly painful. She found her wand, still strapped to her waist, though now cracked and splintered. Despite its, and her, poor condition, she made a feeble attempt at casting. The wand, rendered little more than a broken branch, glowed feebly with blue light. It flickered and dimmed, but remained aglow. The burns across her arms and legs began to shine with the same sapphire glimmer.

A sharp, stabbing pain blossomed from her gut, signifying her reserves running on empty, and breaking what little concentration she had. The pain across her arms remained, renewed as sensation was restored to the worst of it, but she wouldn’t- couldn’t- risk draining her magic and bring her to unconsciousness. She had to remain awake, ready for whatever came next.

The following bells were spent sobbing, ash and tears and cuts all stinging her face. The small cave she had found herself in had a large, stone slab, engraved with a bird of some kind and writing she couldn’t make out through her blurry vision, her glasses lost in the mayhem. It was round and spacious, with smoke clouding on the ceiling. A pair of cressets stood before the slab, unlit. Her mind continued on, almost mechanical, taking note of every detail in her surroundings, in a feeble attempt to ignore the pain that racked her muscles and lungs.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, drifting in and out of consciousness despite her best attempts to stay awake, but by the time she had grown lucid again, the heat seemed to have lessened. It was still warm and dry, unnaturally so, but the air no longer felt painful against her uninjured skin.

The world didn’t feel real. If not for her recent dreamscape ventures, she’d say it felt like she was asleep. With a pained grunt, Vira dragged herself to her feet, briefly stumbling from the lightheadedness that washed over her, before walking herself out of the grotto.

An involuntary gasp passed through her lips once her eyes bore witness to the surroundings. The grass, what little was left, was charred black and buried in a thick blanket of ash and stone. Plumes of smoke rose from crumbled buildings of Limsa Lominsa in the distance.

Vira bit back another sob, a renewed sense of loss racking her every thought. For the first time in her life, she had nothing. Truly nothing, aside from what little she kept on her person that hadn’t fallen loose in her sprint. Her supplies were left when she ran, her coin pouch was lost in the mayhem, her wand splintered and barely functional… for the first time in as long as she knew, she didn’t know what to do.

Her mind still dissociated from her situation, Vira mechanically searched the ash and grotto for any usable supplies. Her pack was long gone, either burnt to a crisp in the hellfire or looted in her absence, but she managed to salvage a handful of gil. The amount was pitiful compared to what she had had not twelve bells prior, but any was better than nothing.

Vira let out a broken sigh of relief when she spotted a glint of light in the ash at the entrance of the cavern’s sloped entrance. She whispered thanks to the Twelve as she pulled her glasses free of the dirt and grime, which by some miracle were mostly intact. The thin metal of the left arm was twisted out of place, and the opposite lens was more crack than glass, but until she could afford to replace them, it’d have to do. At least she hadn’t been left completely blind.

Hesitantly, Vira began to make her way back to the city. If she was lucky, she’d be able to sneak aboard a ship, as it was becoming increasingly clear that paying for her passage was an impossibility. Her wand flickered in her hand as she walked, slowly shrinking the burns that coated her.

There were enough people coming in and out of the city for one reason or another that Vira was able to slink back in without issue. The guards of the city seemed to be too preoccupied with relief efforts to bother with their day-to-day duties, a fact Vira was more than happy to abuse.

Winding through familiar alleyways and shortcuts, Vira found her way to the docks in record time. Unfortunately, it became quickly clear that sneaking aboard a civilian ship was out of the realm of possibility, with most Lominsan vessels reserved for emergencies, or too fearful to set sail in the waters. The seas were still churning angrily from whatever hells had happened the night prior, scaring many captains to harbour.

She spent the better part of a day wandering the docks, keeping a horn out for somewhere she could stow away. What crews were about seemed to mostly be complaining or scared, worried about their ship, loved ones, profit, and everything in between. Vira’s sympathies went out to some more than others.

It wasn’t until the sun, tinted red by the smoke and ash in the air, had begun to sink beneath the horizon that Vira finally heard something promising. She positioned herself behind a pile of crates and listened to the latest crew.

“...bloody mad! The world’s gone to sh*te, I tell ye!”

“Stow it! The captain knows what he’s doing.”

“‘Ave you seen the waters? It’s suicide!”

“Exactly! They’re going to lock down the docks soon, can’t you tell?”

“Good! It’s mad out there!”

Vira’s breath hitched, fear welling in her chest. She couldn’t stay here, she needed to get off Vylbrand. Her balance rocked as a wave of nausea washed across her, forcing her into a stumble that had her shoulder pushed into the boxes she used as cover.

The voices hushed, and Vira bit back a frustrated growl at her clumsiness. Before she was afforded the chance to flee her hiding spot, a lanky, grey arm appeared from a gap in the wooden containers and grabbed her collar. “Well, wha’ do we ‘ave ‘ere?”

Vira struggled to pull away, but her fatigue kept her from tugging loose from the iron grip. The small Au Ra felt her feet lift from the ground, wincing at the uncomfortable pain of her tunic digging into her skin. She came face-to-face with the tall, leering Elezen who had picked her up, dressed in grungy and dirty garb that was not too dissimilar from her own. Behind him was a Hyur in an identical, equally filthy outfit, with a scowl worn across her face. “Let me go!”

“Oh, the devil has bite!” the Hyur laughed, her hand moving to rest on the hilt of a crude sword strapped to her belt.

“Let me go!” Vira repeated, emphasizing each word with an admittedly weak kick to her captor’s chest. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

The Elezen who held her aloft opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a third voice sounding from behind him. “What do you two think you’re doing?”

The hand holding her tunic let go, dropping Vira to her knees with a painful shock she felt reverberate through her bones. The arm that had grabbed her moments ago, and its owner, turned and saluted. “Captain, sir!”

The Hyur parroted the call, turning to stand at attention for her superior. The captain strutted past the two who had been chatting, turning his attention to Vira. “Just what would a li’l lass like you be doin’ alone at the docks?”

Vira breathed, readying her words as she brought herself back to her feet on shaky legs. With as much confidence as she could muster, she spoke. “I’ve come for passage to the mainland!”

“Sorry to say, lass, but we ain’t some ferry for any kid to book when they please.” The captain said, no real sympathy in his voice.

“I’ll work for my stay!” Vira blurted out, cursing herself and her desperation.

The captain barked a laugh. “And just what could a li’l thing like you know about running a ship?”

“I know plenty,” Vira said, gaining an onze of confidence. “I learned a lot from my mother, Nanami Nishi.”

Despite the fact she would never admit it, Vira felt grimly satisfied when the faces of the two who harassed her paled. The captain’s face betrayed nothing, however. Instead, after a moment of picking his words, he smiled and extended a hand. “Welcome aboard, little lady.”

/-/

It was official: Vira hated Ul’dah. It was hot, it was dry, and any job she managed to get her hands on was as thankless and bitter as the city itself. But, despite it all, Vira had a certain respect for the city and its people. Here, it didn’t matter that she wasn’t registered with the Adventurers’ Guild, since as long as she could get the job done, people were willing to pay.

It had been roughly a year since Vira had left Limsa Lominsa and Vylbrand behind, and since the event that had come to be known simply as the Calamity. She could still feel its lingering effects, the flow of aether through the earth and stone below her warped from what it had been.

Beyond that, with aid from her own healing magic, her burns, legs, and damaged horn had made a complete recovery, a fact she took significant pride in. The older a wound was, the more difficult it was to heal with the sort of immediate spells she knew. Even an injury only a few days old could prove to be a struggle for her, and given she could only heal herself a small amount before almost collapsing, ridding herself of her damage had taken weeks.

Of course, she was far from perfect. Idly, she rubbed her fingers where her horn had been punctured, feeling the oddly smooth texture of the scar that never healed over properly. Her hearing on her right side had been somewhat muted ever since, though thankfully not enough to cause any real problems.

Taking a few more moments, Vira brushed debris from her scales before continuing on. Ul’dah, and Thanalan as a whole, seemed determined to get dirt and sand in every crease and nook along her scales as it buffeted her with hot, dry winds.

She had been hired to deal with a small band of Amalj'aa bandits who had been ambushing food supply carts shipping Gridanian produce. From what she had gathered, despite the changes the Twelveswood was going through after the Calamity, the state remained the most productive when it came to farming. Limsa Lominsa could still rely on fishing for food, but Ul’dah’s had to be imported from elsewhere. With too many carts lost, the city would begin to starve.

Vira was, naturally, not the first choice to be sent on such a vital mission. She had only been sent in desperation, as the last dozen parties hired never returned. Luckily, or unluckily, she was just as desperate as her employers. Her last few jobs had not gone well, and as a result her funds were at an all-time low since she left Limsa.

Staff in hand, Vira was no more than a day’s trek from camp Bluefog, a small outpost in the northern region of Thanalan. Apparently, she was to report to the local deployment of Stone Torches for further instruction on where the Amalj'aa bandits were hiding.

Vira’s breath hitched, however, when she saw a band of four or five of the beastmen milling about the road ahead of her. She fumbled for her staff, a five fulm stick she had managed to carve from the scarce vegetation of Thanalan, before diving for cover behind some shrubbery on the side of the path.

Were these her targets? What were they doing this far south? She was told they’d be hiding around Camp Bluefog, but she had only left Camp Black Brush not a bell prior. She poked her head out from cover, praying to the Twelve that she’d go unnoticed.

Strangely, the group of Amalj'aa didn’t seem all that attentive. This wasn’t her first encounter with the beastmen, having taken more than a handful of jobs involving them before. Usually, the roaming bands were on the hunt or looking for a fight, eyes roving their surroundings diligently. This group, instead, were huddled in a circle, all facing inwards aside from a single lookout on the far side. It wasn’t until she saw one of the hulking creatures kick inwards that she put two-and-two together; they had a prisoner.

Vira had never done a rescue before, since no one trusted a mere child to be able to pull one off successfully. She wasn’t even sure she could, and had only ever applied for them out of desperation when she was first beginning in Ul’dah. Now, though, she didn’t have a choice.

Steeling her nerves with a few deep breaths, Vira readied her staff from her position behind the dry foliage. She let herself feel the aether around her, in the ground, in the air, in the arid bush, and with a small amount of effort, pulled a hefty stone twice the size of her fist from under the ground, leaving it to float just past the end of her staff. With careful aim, she let the stone go, sending the rock flying at an unnatural speed. It impacted one of the Amalj'aa in the side of the head with a crack and a thud, before the hulking creature fell to the ground.

Vira pumped her arm in celebration, pleased with the killing shot. Her victory was short lived, as the other four creatures cried in alarm, pulling various melee weapons from their backs and belts, quickly catching sight of the girl who had slain one of their own.

The element of surprise gone, the young Au Ra wasted no time with her next attack. Two more stones were sent towards the closest Amalj'aa, impacting its shoulder and stomach. Trickles of blood began to flow from the wounds, but the Amalj'aa seemed to otherwise be unphased.

Vira gulped, a bubble of fear welling up as three of the four remaining Amalj'aa began to sprint towards her, two wielding spears, and the other wielding a set of metal knuckles. Formulating her strategy on the fly, she made the decision to charge the trio head-on, a fact that seemed to surprise the Amalj'aa.

She dodged a thrusting spear, twisting her small body past the first of the beasts and into the guard of the second polearm-wielder. Too close to effectively use its weapon, the creature tried to knock out her knees with the back end of the shaft, which Vira managed to block by bringing down her own staff, slamming it into the soil. Using her proximity to the large creature, along with her own short stature, Vira headbutted the creature’s groin.

Wincing through the painful rattle reverberating through her horns, she didn’t have the time to enjoy the beastman dropping to its knees in pain as metal knuckles flew towards her face.

Without the leverage or time to move out of the way, Vira instead went limp, dropping to the ground. The knuckles whistled overhead, and large, clawed feet suddenly impacted the newfound obstacle in the way- her body. Once more, Vira toughed through the pain, instead focussing on the satisfaction as the brawler tripped over her, crashing into the one with an injured groin in a roar of angry shouts, leaving them sprawled on the ground atop one another as she picked herself up.

The last fighter, instead of rushing her head on as its companions, circled her, preparing its attack. Vira raised her staff, flinging a stone at its head before it got wise and went for the kill. The rock soared over its shoulder, leaving the Amalj'aa with a confused expression and Vira with a curse on her tongue.

Not one to waste an opportunity, Vira called forth a flurry of cutting winds on her opponent, earning angry cries from the confused beastman. Reaching down, Vira scooped up a palmful of dirt and flung it at her adversary. The debris impacted the winds, getting caught in the gale and turning to a cloud of dust and grime that left the Amalj'aa sputtering and blinded.

The girl sprinted past the preoccupied fighters, running for the last of the party left behind to guard their prisoner. It let loose an angered roar, moving to meet her halfway with raised knuckled fists. Rather than attempt to fight it head-on, Vira threw herself to the side, stumbling as she almost fell to the ground again. The larger creature was slow to turn, leaving Vira time to run towards the now-abandoned prisoner.

A brief moment of shock washed across Vira as she laid eyes on the prisoner. Instead of the Hyur or Lalafell she expected, laid an unmoving, green creature, covered in what looked to be leaves. It was smaller than a baby Lalafell, letting Vira scoop it up in her arms without stopping. Her goal achieved, she didn’t bother going back to finish the Amalj'aa, instead fleeing with the creature.

The Amalj'aa gave chase, but evidently were not so stubborn as to continue the pursuit after ten minutes of running. To be safe, Vira ran for another five, ignoring the pains in her chest from where she’d been kicked, and the ever growing ache in her legs. It was only then she finally stopped, the large holes of Antling dens visible in the distance.

She put down the strange, plant-like creature, noticing the transparent green liquid it had left on her jacket, only visible against the green fabric by its dampness. She wasn’t sure just what this thing was, but it hardly took a genius to figure out what blood was.

Enough time wasted in fleeing, Vira drew in aether and cast a healing spell. The small creature was absorbed in blue light, gashes stitching closed and bruises fading. Finally, it began a coughing fit that wracked it’s small body, large, black eyes squinting open.

“Hey, hey there,” Vira said in soft tones, brushing her fingers across its head. “You’re safe, you’re okay.”

The creature coughed again before speaking. “W-where is this one? Are the large ones gone?” Its voice was raspy and hoarse, yet still filled with a tenacious bite. It brought a small smile to Vira’s face, seeing that the Amalj'aa hadn’t completely broken the thing’s spirit.

“The Amalj'aa?” Vira asked, deciphering the change in grammar. “I saw they had you prisoner, s-so I came and got you out!”

With a small flutter of the leafy wings, the critter rose a few fulms, wobbling in the air as if dizzy. “This one gives many thanks to helpful one, this one is in helpful one’s debt. This one is called Anyxia.”

Only after taking flight was Vira able to distinguish the parts of the small creature, Anyxia. It had a large lower body, its abdomen flaring out in a manner that resembled a gown or dress, with spindly, stem-like legs protruding from beneath. It was difficult to tell what was flesh and what was clothing, assuming there was a separation at all, as both seemed to be made of lettuce-like leaves. The only outliers were its aforementioned legs, and its face and hands, which both were white and smooth. A dim, glowing pink orb of some kind sat embedded in its chest.

Vira cleared her throat and put on a smile, trying to hide her mild discomfort at how off putting Anyxia was. “There’s no need for debts! I just did what any adventurer worth their salt would do!”

“This one thanks helpful one’s generosity, regardless.” Anyxia bowed its head, causing its entire body to list to one side in the air. “If helpful one would allow, this one would like to stay close. This one would not survive alone.”

“Oh! Uh, sure, I guess?” Vira said, trying not to trip over her own words. She had never travelled with anyone else, let alone someone so… monstrous. She wasn’t going to just leave it alone in the wilds of Thanalan, though. “It might be dangerous, though.”

“It will be no more dangerous than where this one was when helpful one saved this one.” Anyxia said gravely, eyes drifting to the ground. “Large ones were not kind to this one.”

Vira placed a hand on its back, just above its small wings. “It’s okay, Anyxia. As long as you’re with me, no one’s going to lay a finger on you.” It didn’t respond, but did let out a soft clacking sound and smiled, which Vira took as a good sign.

The two continued Vira’s trek north to Camp Bluefog, having decided that even if Anyxia’s captors were her target, getting her new friend to somewhere safe was more important than circling back to pick off the rest of the Amalj’aa. Vira learned that her new friend was a creature called a Sylph, a beastman from the Twelveswood. She’d read about them in her guide, still safely tucked away in her jacket, but it lacked the physical description she needed to make the connection on her own.

Instead, Anyxia had had to give Vira a run down of the basics, acting surprised when Vira didn’t know of them. According to the Sylph, her people had played a significant role in some of the mercantile efforts in the area before Dalamud fell, but Vira’s relatively isolated upbringing had lefter her ignorant of much of Eorzea, a fact that had been becoming increasingly clear in her time adventuring.

Traversing the mining tunnels that connected Thanalan to its northern regions was surprisingly swift work. Evidently the tunnels used for passage had long-since been mined dry, with what miners remained searching the smaller passages for silver deposits, and had had markers installed to keep travellers on track.

“So…” Vira started, not sure how or what she should say to her newfound companion beyond their brief introductions. “What brought you all the way down to Thanalan?”

Silence hung in the mineshaft as she awaited a response. “This one… would not like to speak of it.”

“O-oh, okay,” Vira said, deflated.

The two pushed on without another word passing between their lips, the dull ambient ring from her damaged horn and crackling of wall-mounted lamps filling her thoughts. It wasn’t until another half bell passed that it was finally broken, and Anyxia spoke up. “This one did not feel welcome in Sylphlands, so this one left the Twelveswood alone.”

“You did?” Vira blurted out, pulling a hand to her mouth in embarrassment a moment later. “I mean, isn’t it dangerous to be all alone out here?”

“Is helpful one not also alone?” Anyxia pointed out, earning a flustered blush from Vira. “Why is helpful one not at home?”

“My home…” Vira stopped, forcing herself to take a deep breath. “I realised my home wasn’t a home. That it never had been.”

“Then helpful one knows why this one left the Twelveswood.” Anyxia’s face lowered, the small smile that had formed across her face dipping. “Now, this one would give anything to return to the Twelveswood. The large ones were not happy with where this one travelled, so the large ones hurt this one. Tried to make this one do things for large ones, things this one could not do.”

“What do you mean? Vira asked earnestly.

Rather than respond, Anyxia merely pointed ahead. “This one sees light ahead. These ones are almost to Bluefog.”

The duo fell back into their silence, though Vira was pleased that the uncomfortable air between them seemed to have lifted, at least a little. She couldn’t help the smile that grew across her face, which earned an eye-roll from Anyxia when she saw.

Emerging from the passage, the pair were immediately met by a wall of smog, sending them both into a coughing fit. Vira made sure to cast a small healing spell on her injured companion, knowing that however bad it was for her, it was bound to be worse for a Sylph. “What in seven hells is this?” Vira hacked.

“Blue fog.” Anyxia said.

Vira glanced at Sylph, unsure whether the odd creature was earnest or sarcastic.

“Halt! State your name and business.” A masculine voice shouted from ahead. Though it took a moment, Vira’s eyes were swiftly adjusting to looking through the smog, and she could make out a pair Ul’dahn banners, marking the entrance of a large camp, with a uniformed Hyur posted at each one.

“V-Vira! Vira Vanille!” she said. “And this is Anyxia! I was sent to help with the Amalj’aa problem?”

“Hells,” the guard said. “C’mere, would you?”

“Is something the matter?” Vira asked, approaching the man as instructed. It took all her willpower not to cough again.

The guard looked her over. “They sent us a kid and a beastman?”

“Hey, I’m more than strong enough to deal with some tail-heads!”

The guard sighed. “Listen, kid, just go back to Ul’dah. This is no place for a little one.

Vira opened her mouth to interject, but barely got a sound out before Anyxia took over the conversation. “Helpful one is very brave, and saved this one from large ones today. Helpful one is very capable.”

“O-oh! That’s true! I thought they might have been who I was hired to kill, but I think they were too far south to be them. I was going to ask whoever I was supposed to meet here if the bandits had been seen recently! I guess it wouldn’t really–”

“Okay, we get it,” the guard interrupted. “Last time any of us saw them, they were heading north, towards the processing plant. Your funeral, though.”

“Ah, don’t let him get to you, kid,” the other guard said, “you made it this far. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Thank you, sir!” Vira said. She grabbed Anyxia’s hand and pulled her past the banners hurriedly, leaving the two guards to bicker at their posts. Looking around the camp, Vira was surprised by how busy it was. She had figured most people this far in the wilderness would be working near the refinery, but there was bustling construction being done all around the camp, seemingly in an effort to build a large, stone wall on the north side of the encampment.

“Is helpful one to take rest here?” Anyxia said.

“I wasn’t pla–” Vira stopped, noticing the way in which Anyxia still wobbled unsteadily in the air. “Yeah, we can rest for the night. It’s getting late, anyways.”

Anyxia gave a small hum in response, but nothing else. Vira understood, not wanting to admit to weakness, especially after venturing into the unknown. It meant admitting defeat. The fact that the Sylph was letting Vira help her now was good enough for her.

Without the funds to pay for lodging, assuming the camp had lodging available to begin with, the duo set up a small campsite a stone’s throw from the incomplete fortress wall, careful to keep the settlement within eyeshot. It was difficult to tell night from day through the fog, but distant tolls of a bell from within the camp signified the end of the work day.

Their small camp consisted of little more than a fire and a tent pitched by the cliffside. The latter was small, cheap, and flimsy, but was effective enough at retaining heat for a relatively comfortable sleep. Vira opted to take the first shift, hoping to give her new friend ample time to rest and recover from her injuries. Vira’s own spells could only do so much.

Staff in hand, the young Au Ra gazed over the ceruleum lakes, their glimmer barely visible through the fog. She remembered sitting on the docks, book in hand, watching the starlight reflect and shimmer across the gentle waves, waiting for the sun to rise and cover the seas with diamonds. Dangling her boots over the edge of the cliffside, she half expected to feel the waters on her toes, once more.

Instead, she was met with air so thick it was hard to breathe, with dead trees and war-ravaged soil, with distant shards of twisted aether protruding from the ground, with a land so sick even the skies were stained. Tubes of metal scaled the cliffs, carrying ceruleum to mighty refineries pumping more smog into the air. Vira couldn’t help but wonder what happened. What could have been worth so much violence and destruction, devastation so total that no one was spared from its influence. She listened to the land, to its laboured breaths and sorrowful cries.

“I wish I could help you,” Vira ran her fingers through the coarse dirt, “I just don’t know how.”

The rest of the night was, thankfully, uneventful. The light of the sun was too diluted to discern its location, but the increase in brightness come morning was noticeable nonetheless. The duo broke camp in voiceless synchrony, leaving Vira with an even stronger hollow feeling. Anyxia had hardly been chatty, but the change in disposition overnight left her worried. Had she finally made a friend, even if it was a beastman, only to push her away so quickly? What had she done wrong?

“Does helpful one have a knife?” Anyxia asked, breaking Vira from her thoughts.

“What? Oh, uh… will this do?” Vira pulled a small blade from under her jacket. “I just use it for whittling most of the time.”

Anyxia pulled the blade from her hand, turning it over and studying the edge. “It will do.”

“Are you mad at me?” Vira swivelled, flushed by her own outburst.

“What makes helpful one think this one is upset?”

“You were just so much more talkative yesterday! Was it something I did? Something I said? Something I-”

Anyxia shushed her with a raised hand. “This one is not one for small talk. Yesterday was an exception, this one was not thinking clearly after being freed from large ones.”

“O-oh, okay…” Vira trailed off.

“These ones should move, or else these ones will lose the large ones for good.”

“Okay. Right. Back to business.”

Maybe Vira didn’t just hate Ul’dah. Maybe she hated all of Thanalan. It seemed to bring her nothing but ill fortune these days, with empty coffers and apparently sour friendships. No, not friendships, she had barely known the Sylph for a day, what they had was an alliance of convenience. Not for the first time, Vira found herself cursing her bleeding heart.

She couldn’t dwell on the matter, though. She had a job to do, and she’d be damned if she didn’t see it through. She had to be good enough, to prove herself trustworthy to those who hired, lest she be robbed of the gil needed to care for herself. “Why do you think the Amalj'aa are this far north?”

“Is it a rarity for the large ones to travel north?” Anyxia said.

“Right, I guess you wouldn’t really know.” Vira said. “The Amalj’aa apparently haven’t come up here since the Calamity. It used to be more like the rest of Thanalan, but I guess since Dalamud and the fog…”

“This one understands why the large ones did not journey through the smog.” Anyxia said. “This one does not know why these large ones would. There is no one but the ones from Ul’dah here.”

“Actually, I’ve heard tales that the Garle– get down!” Vira dropped, pushing Anyxia to the ground with her. “Up ahead, look!”

The Sylph grunted at the push, but remained silent and let herself be dragged to the ground. “This one does not see anything through the fog.”

“Over there, motion,” Vira gently guided the Sylph’s gaze to the right, “and I hear metal.”

“This one doesn’t hea– oh, there it is.”

The distant whine of metal grinding on metal grew closer, only broken by brief intervals of what sounded like swords clashing. “We should move closer, it might be our targets.”

As the pair followed the sound, staying prone and hidden in the scarce shrubbery, the sources of the sounds revealed themselves from the fog. A band of men belonging to various races adorned in black and red garb, wielding blades equally numerous in design, fought against a small horde of hulking Amalj’aa. Behind the darkly clothed men stood a towering, metal forgekin that struck fear into Vira’s heart. As tall as four men, with rotating, twisting metal cones of some kind acting as forearms and hands, the machine merely acted as a backdrop to the conflict, unmoving and nonparticipating.

“These ones should avoid the conflict,” Anyxia said. Her eyes were hardened, tracking the battle with determination and focus that Vira had not expected from the small creature. “Lest these ones meet an unfortunate fate.”

“But… they’re ou- my targets,” Vira said, “shouldn’t I be the one to kill them?”

“What does it matter, so long as the large ones are slain?”

“I don’t know, it just feels kind of dishonest. I shouldn’t be claiming the work of others.”

Anyxia’s response was cut off by a panicked yelp from the Au Ra, desperately rolling to avoid being trampled by a fleeing Amalj’aa. The others seemed to lay dead, slain by the men garbed in black. “This one supposes helpful one will get the chance to fight, after all,” Anyxia said.

Vira only sighed, retreating from the group of armed men’s eye sight before rising to her feet. “Did you catch which direction he fled?”

Anyxia gestured southward, back towards Camp Bluefog. To the duo’s surprise, it took no more than a few minutes to find their target, hunched over as he rested against a stone, clutching his wounds. He had yet to spot them.

“This… this feels wrong.” Her staff felt heavy in her hands as she lined up her shot. “He’s injured, we should do something.”

“Was helpful not sent to kill the injured one?” Anyxia hissed, accentuating her point with a jab of her dagger.

“Well yeah, but look at him! We should at least talk to him first.”

“Helpful one was arguing for the right to kill large ones not ten minutes prior.” The Sylph pointed out, crossing her arms.

“I wasn’t arguing for the right, I just thought– whatever, it doesn’t matter,” Vira crossed her arms back, glaring into the smaller creature’s eyes. “It’s my mission, I get final say, and I say we do this peacefully.”

Anyxia huffed, but didn’t argue. The two approached the injured beastman, weapons raised. “Hey there,” Vira called, announcing their presence.

The Amalj’aa jerked up, reaching for his weapon. Anyxia threw her knife an ilm from his hand. “This one wouldn’t do that.”

“We’re here to help,” Vira pushed on, shooting a dirty look at the Sylph. “We can heal you, if you answer some questions for us.”

The beastman spat a wad of dark blood at Vira’s feet, letting loose a guttural growl that left Vira’s hair on end. “I do not need healing. If I perish, it will be at the hands of a superior foe.” His voice was deep, more rumbling than any non-beastman’s physiology would allow, and thickly accented.

“These ones witnessed the battle,” Anyxia spoke up, coming to Vira’s aid. “Injured one fled, abandoned large one’s brethren. There is no honour in retreat.”

“Besides,” Vira said, “do you really want to die out here? When you could back home, in defence of your clan?”

The Amalj’aa coughed up another glob of blood, this time into his clawed hand. His words were forced, the conflict within him on brazen display, “What do you want?”

“Why are you so far north? I thought your kind didn’t come up here since the Calamity,” Vira asked.

“We heard of mighty warriors who worked under the veil of the fog,” the Amalj’aa hissed. “We travelled in search of the strong, to test our mettle.”

“You came here to fight?” Vira nearly shouted, drawing a wince from the injured beastman and increasing the glare from Anyxia. “Why bother raiding the Gridanian produce sent up to the refinery, then?”

“Our people have no need of your foreign greenery,” the Amalj’aa retorted, apparently insulted by the accusation. “The Garleans are the ones stealing your roots.”

“Garleans? Here?” Vira exclaimed, her knuckles turning white as the grip on her staff grew painful.

“They were the kin-slayers,” the Amalj’aa explained. “I remember their cloth.”

“We should leave, Anyxia,” Vira said. “It’s too dangerous with them here.”

“What about the job?” She asked.

“Why do you even care?” Vira jabbed a finger at her chest. “It’s not like it’s your job, anyways!”

“Helpful one helped this one, so this one must return the favour.” Anyxia said, her even voice raising an octave.

“No! You don’t! I told you, there’s no debt between us! I only saved you because it was the right thing to do!”

“That is precisely why this one must assist helpful one!” Anyxia insisted.

“I healed you! That’s what I do! I heal people, and I survive! I don’t need you!”

“Then why did helpful one allow this one to stay?”

“Because, believe it or not, it’s nice to finally have a bloody friend for once!” Vira’s eyes went wide and her mouth pulled into a tight line. “Whatever, let’s just get this gu– oh.”

The Amalj’aa lay still, head slumped against his unmoving chest, blood pooling into the dirt around him. Vira sighed, any anger in her fleeing, and reached up to close the eyes of the hulking creature. He was only a beastman, one she had been tasked to kill, no less, but that did not stop the pain in heart from roiling within her. Tears stung in the edges of her vision as she fell to her knees.

A small hand found its place on her shoulder, “It had to end this way, one way or another.”

“I-I promised him…” Vira sobbed, tears now flowing openly down her cheeks. “I promised I w-would help him…”

“Helpful one, these ones cannot stay.” Anyxia retrieved the knife from beside the dead Amalj’aa. “The dark-garbed ones will have heard these ones’ shouting.”

“You’re right, l-let’s go,” Vira sniffled, rubbing her eyes clean. She did not move, did not break her gaze with the cooling corpse, until the Sylph gently turned her head.

The return to Bluefog was, once more, made in silence, not that Vira minded this time. Her mind continued to race with unwanted emotions, anger prime among them. How was she supposed to be a successful adventurer if she couldn’t even complete a simple search-and-destroy task without breaking down? How could she be good enough, if even the simplest of missions proved to be too much?

She dimly reported to the guards at Bluefog, recounting the death of the Amalj’aa and that they had seen Garlean troops in the area. They seemed shocked, but she couldn’t tell if it was at one as young as her finally getting the job done, or the Garlean sightings south of the refinery.

The entire trip back to Ul’dah, lasting several days, was made in relative quiet. Vira knew she was being unreasonable, that Anyxia had only been trying to help. She had every reason to be angry with the young Au Ra, yet didn’t seem to be, instead staying beside her all the way back to Ul’dah.

She reported back to her employer, earning a bag full of gil. It would hopefully be enough to last at least a week or two, if she ate small. Just another day as an Adventurer.

/-/

Vira lasted eight more moons before she had to leave Ul’dah. Working under the noses of the Adventurer’s Guild was bound to get her in trouble sooner or later, and once they had caught wind of what she had been up to, the guild had issued an official statement in the Mythril Eye, a popular paper in Ul’dah, warning people not to hire her.

Now resting at camp not far from Horizon, a camp to the west of Ul'dah, Vira held up the paper to the firelight, studying the picture that depicted her and her Sylph companion. “Are my horns really that menacing?”

Nyx floated over her shoulder, quietly humming a tune Vira did not recognize. “Helpful one’s horns do not bend that much, the curve is much softer in person. This one wishes this one had a blade so ornate, though. Or fangs.”

Vira let out a short laugh, equally amused by the dramatic rendition of the Sylph. They had given her brutal fangs that stuck out from an overbite, the Sylph herself wearing an extreme scowl she wasn’t sure Sylphs were capable of making, and holding a serrated knife so long it may as well have been a short sword. “But you’re a vicious beastman, how else are people going to know how scary you are?”

“This one is not complaining,” Nyx smirked. “The reputation will serve this one kindly.”

In their time together, the pair had formed a partnership that worked surprisingly well. Anyxia, or Nyx as Vira had taken to calling her, had stuck with Vira through thick and thin, acting as the muscle with her knives, while Vira had been able to step back from up close and personal combat, a fact she was more than grateful for. With Nyx’s swift and nimble strikes, paired with Vira’s ranged support and mid-combat healing, the unlikely duo had become effective enough to finally draw the attention of the Adventurer’s Guild.

“In all honesty, I’m surprised it took as long as it did for them to print this,” Vira said. “A horned girl of fourteen summers and a Sylph in Ul’dah aren’t exactly subtle.”

“These ones did their jobs well, and worked for cheaper,” Nyx shrugged. “No one wanted to report these ones.”

“At least it’s less sandy, out here,” Vira said, brushing a hand along the bridge of her nose. “I’ve had dust in my scales for the past two summers.”

“This one prays gil flows so freely as it does within the walls,” Nyx said. “These ones’ funds begin to dry.”

Vira hummed in agreement, pulling forth a ratty map from her pack. She bent down, unfurling it in the campfire’s glow. “See here? We can make our way to Vesper Bay just west of here and work some jobs. I heard the town’s been seeing a lot of growth, with people settling from La Noscea across the strait, so hopefully people there haven’t seen this.” She held the Eye’s portrait of Nyx and herself aloft.

“It is a sound plan, helpful one,” Nyx said, a small smile across her face. “May these ones make for the bay at dawn.”

The night was, thankfully, an uneventful one. With Eorzea recovering, a semblance of peace was beginning to return to the roads, with beastmen and bandits growing ever more weary to attack travellers. Nyx took down the tent come morning while Vira ate breakfast, an agreement they’d reached moons ago upon realising Nyx was far too small to carry much of anything.

The two unofficial adventurers made their way through Horizon with little fanfare, only earning a handful of dirty or confused looks from passersby. Vira had only been to the town a handful of times, but it was more than small enough for her to easily remember the way through.

Journeying to Vesper Bay from Horizon took no more than half a day’s walk. The distance between them was no more than a couple of malms, but the damp, winding path between them through the mountains was known for the beastkin who resided there. Combined with the heavy pack Vira wore, along with her shorter legs, meant travel through the pass was annoying on the best days.

The last time she had bothered to make the trip was nearly twenty-three moons ago, when she had arrived at Vesper Bay after leaving Limsa Lominsa, and making way to Ul’dah. It felt strangely alien to walk the roads again. Caked in sweat, grime, and soaked in bog water from a brief skirmish with the wildlife, the duo arrived at the gate of Vesper Bay.

Vira was gobsmacked. She had known of the port’s growth, but the extent of which was far more than expected. Whereas previously the location was little more than docks and a ramshackle stable, it had grown to have over a dozen sandstone buildings lining it, a large paved plaza, another set of docks, a small market strip, and a statue four times her height as a centrepiece. It depicted a Lalafellin man she didn’t recognize.

“You go scout a spot to camp, I’ll check for jobs?” Vira said. Her eyes hadn’t left the surprisingly bustling town, but she heard Nyx agree and take off. She pulled her staff off her back, the warmth of the gnarled wood soothing her nerves as she stepped into the crowd, using it as a walking stick.

With no clear town hall, community building, or notice board, Vira took to visiting the vendor stalls, stating to each that she was an adventurer looking for work. She got her fair share of eye rolls and dubious looks, but for the most part simply received polite disinclination. She was somewhat shocked by how much more reasonable and kind the people seemed to be out here, considering most of her responses in Ul’dah had been ‘piss off,’ or something akin.

Vira groaned when she realised she had to resort to door duty. Going door-to-door looking for jobs was not only slow and rather ineffective, it was embarrassing. She’d only been forced to a handful of times prior, but it seemed she’d have to add another to the count. Stirring up as much cheer as she could, she made her way to the end of a row of doors and knocked.

The door creaked open, revealing a tall Roegadyn man with a thick beard. “Hello, sir! I’m Vira Vanille, I was wondering–” the door slammed shut, rattling the knocker loudly with the force. Vira sighed, mentally taking back what she had thought about the people being nice.

Door after door, she was met by a wide variety of faces, all to a similar result, some more polite than others. Lalafell, Hyur, Miqo'te, even an Elezen woman, all turned her down. Vira found it somewhat strange seeing so many races outside one Limsa or Ul’dah, but she supposed it was bound to happen with any port settlement.

Two bells had passed with no luck, and Vira was down to the last handful of buildings in Vesper Bay. She approached the next, a small, single story building with double doors and positioned on a raised pedestal. It was located in the lower part of the town, near the waterfront, so she supposed it was an anti-flooding measure. She stepped up the stairs, taking a deep breath as she prepared herself for yet another rejection, and knocked firmly on the doors.

The doors opened with a creak, revealing a dimly lit and scarcely decorated interior, with little besides a single table for furniture. Standing before her was a Lalafellin woman, sporting a bright pink tunic, fingerless leather gloves that ended just short of her elbows, and a large, blood red beret atop her head. A golden feather, chocobo if Vira were to guess, was pinned to the left– Vira’s right– of the hat. She had a round face, as was common with Lalafell, with features framed by lilac hair. A brush of freckles covered her cheeks and nose, only mildly distracting from her vibrant, royal-purple eyes.

“H-hello!” Vira started, surprised by the burst of colour now in front of her in the otherwise drab town. “I’m Vira Vanille, an adventurer in need of work! I was wondering if–”

“By the Twelve!” the small woman exclaimed, animatedly waving her arms. “You’re filthy! Are you all right?”

“Wha– yes?” she stuttered, taken aback by the sudden concern. “I’m an adventurer, getting dirty is just part of the job.”

“I’ve worked with my fair share of adventurers, and none of them ever come back as dirty as you!” She glanced back inside and back to Vira, eyes narrowing for a moment. “I’m sure it would be okay. Come in, come in, let’s get you cleaned up!”

Vira’s every thought wanted her to decline the bright woman’s offer, yet something stopped her from fleeing. She had learned to trust her gut, and learned with Nyx to make allies where she could. Besides, the woman clearly wasn’t a fighter. Vira was confident she’d hold the upper hand, regardless of how the situation progressed. Even if it was as little as food other than jerky, it would be a welcome break. “All right, miss…”

“Oh, forgive me!” The woman all but hopped with every sentence, cheer oozing into every word she spoke. “I’m Tataru Taru! A pleasure to make your acquaintance!”

“Miss Taru, then,” Vira said, following the woman inside. Her fingers remained attached to her staff, not out of any sense of threat, but for the comfort the aether-infused wood brought to her jitters.

Miss Taru led her down a staircase on the far side of the small room, at the bottom of which was a second door, as large as the front, that they passed through. Vira had expected something small, perhaps a repurposed cellar or a cozy basem*nt suite. What she had been met with was a long, sandstone passage, wide enough to fit three Roegadyn men shoulder to shoulder. At the hall’s end was yet another large, double door, preceded by two other halls branching to the left and right.

Vira froze, taking in the space. It was larger than any house in the town! Did all the buildings have chambers like this? No, the town couldn’t stay stable with so many tunnels under it. She was shaken out of her thoughts by Miss Taru, the Lalafell clearing her throat politely and gesturing that she continue to follow her.

The two approached the door at the end of the hallway, Miss Taru striking it with a shockingly loud knock. Vira suddenly felt a wave of unease wash over her, the door seeming more imposing and looming than it had a moment before. “Antecedent!”

The muffled scraping of a chair sounded from beyond the door, followed by the soft click of shoes on stone. The door creaked open, revealing a tall Hyur woman in garb Vira could only describe as elaborate. It was a strapped, pink crop top, leading into white sleeves, covered by a pair of long, dull-blue gloves, reaching from her fingers to half way up her biceps. From her waist hung a half skirt reaching to her ankles, the front open to expose legs donned in leggings, but mostly covered by ornate thigh boots. Seven metal symbols Vira didn’t recognize, some different and some the same, hung from belts tied around her waist.

She had pale, blue eyes and a face that spoke of a strict kindness, with blonde hair that was braided on her left, swooped down on the right, and was tied up in the back. Despite the confusing outfit and overall look, Vira couldn’t deny the fact that the woman managed to pull off the style. Somehow. When she spoke, her voice came across as stilted, but soft and kind nonetheless. “Tataru, how ma– who is that?”

“Meet Vira Vanille! She’s an adventurer in need of work, and we need adventurers!” Miss Taru beamed, though even from behind the Lalafell, Vira could tell she was more nervous than she was letting on.

The woman, to her credit, did not give the scolding Vira expected to her or Miss Taru, but instead opened the door a little wider and gestured for them to enter. Upon entering, Vira was taken aback by the quality of the room, with healthy looking potted plants, expensive lamps hanging from the ceiling, and a beautifully weaved red and golden rug covering the center of the floor. Directly in front of her was an empty desk, sitting on the back of the rug.

In front of the desk stood a Hyur man with white hair and pale skin, tattoos of an unknown symbol addorning either side of his neck. He wore a much simpler black tunic and white undershirt, with a large knife attached to a white strap around his waist. The only armour he wore was a pauldron and some form of greaves.

What truly caught her attention, however, was a staff mounted in a white-padded display case, the center of its shaft shattered, and leaving the instrument in two pieces. Even with its damage, Vira could feel it from across the room, whatever magic it held was still strong enough to disrupt the flow of aether around it.

The woman sat behind the desk, and Vira felt the sudden urge to bow at who she now realised was clearly in charge of this whole…. Whatever it was. “Miss Vanille? Pray, I implore you to speak your mind.”

“Um,” Vira shuffled her feet nervously, leaning on her staff for support. “I’m Vira. I’m new in town and was just looking for work. I didn’t mean to make a fuss, but Miss Taru said I was filthy and I should come in to clean up, and honestly this feels like a lot now and I’m kind of nervous in this big, fancy room, and–”

“Baths are down the hall to the left, four doors in,” the white-haired man interrupted. “Come back when you’ve cleaned up, kid.”

“O-oh, thank you sir. I’ll just… I guess I’ll see you in a little while?” Vira winced at her awkwardness, quickly scuttling back out of the room. What was she doing, what was she doing, what was she doing?! Vira knew she could perhaps be a little more trusting than she should be at times, she wasn’t an idiot, despite what Nyx said, but this was a whole new level of trusting. She was fourteen summers old, pulled into some weird basem*nt by a cheerful Lalafell, and told to go take a bath by a man with a knife the size of her forearm strapped to his waist. She had heard less obvious horror stories around campfires, for Twelve’s sake!

Nonetheless, the allure of actually getting the chance to bathe was a strong one. She hadn’t had the chance to properly clean herself in nearly two moons, with most sources of water in Thanalan being too well visited, or too infested with some form of beastkin or vilekin. The last time she’d managed to find somewhere she could actually wash up had been the waters near Forgotten Springs in the south, but after they’d caught some creep watching her from the bushes– who Nyx was all too happy to introduce to her knife– she hadn’t felt safe there, either.

In the end, Vira figured if the trio wanted to hurt her, or stop her from leaving, there wasn’t much she could do anyway. The two donned in pink she thought she could take in a pinch, but the man with the knife had the bearings of an adventurer far more experienced than she. And she really wanted to feel clean again.

Traversing the surprisingly large structure, Vira quickly noticed the lack of people about. There were doors lined up down the hallway, and peeking inside a couple proved them to be personal rooms and barracks, yet empty. She was hardly going to complain, though, since it meant less people giving the new, horned child odd looks.

Vira stepped through the door she’d been instructed to, eyes immediately drawn to the large tub on the far side of the room. While not ornate, it was clearly not a cheap object. It matched a large, metal tank tucked in the corner, which she assumed held the water for the bath. A small hole in the ceiling, no wider than her pinky finger, shone in a pinprick of natural light to allow steam to escape.

It took her a moment to register her own thoughts, eyes widening. It was a heated tub, hot enough to produce steam? She’d been in heated tubs when she was young, and Nanami had no issue flaunting her wealth, but the time that had passed since rendered the memory hazy.

She did not see any place for a fire, so that meant it was only for special occasions, or there was an alternate method of heating the water. The bath had no mechanisms or secrets so far as she could tell, so she turned to the tank. Kneeling, Vira found what she had suspected on the underside of the container. A large array of fire-aspected crystals, not terribly difficult to procure, but of a cut so skillful it was obvious even to her untrained eyes.

She reached her hand close to the crystals, feeling not just their warmth, but the way aether flowed through them. Ever since the Calamity, Eorzea had felt electric, looked electric, as if the metaphorical hairs of the realm stood on end, but crystals like this always helped Vira tune out that feeling. The presence of a strong crystal was overwhelming in the best of ways. Idly, she noted that despite its appearance seeming intact, one of the crystals practically hissed aether out of it, speaking of a crack invisible to the eye. Thankfully, not dangerous on crystals this well refined.

Vira shook her head, chastising herself for getting distracted. Placing a bucket under the tap of the tank, Vira filled it with steaming water, before dumping it in the tub. She repeated the process, enjoying the way the steam cleared her sinuses, until the tub was filled about half-way. She hoped to not upset her hosts by using such an amount, but if she was getting her first steaming bath in Twelve knows how long, she was going to make it a good one. She disrobed, neatly placing her folded clothes on a footstool beside the tub, before stepping in.

The somewhat large tub left her small self plenty of room to stretch, which Vira was more than happy to take advantage of. Sliding down, she let herself be submerged up to her neck, enjoying the feeling of her hair floating in the water, and of the creases of her scales not feeling dry, for once. Every muscle in her body seemed to lose a tenseness Vira never realised they had had to begin with, leaving the Au Ra with the strength of a newborn fish. Safe to say, it was truly divine.

It was only once the water had begun to cool that Vira recalled she was supposed to be in a hurry, awkwardly flailing to grab a floral-scented bar of soap and wash herself with as much haste as one could without making a mess. Vira ignored the discomfort of being so rough with her horns while cleaning, as well as the wince that came once she noticed how shredded the bar had become on her scales.

Stepping out of the water, Vira grabbed a woven towel from nearby and dried her skin as fast as possible, doing her best to not let the loose threads of the towel catch on her scale ridges. She lacked a brush of any kind, but she took the time to briefly comb through her hair with her fingers, dragging out any remaining knotts she could find. Looking at her clothes, she shuttered before putting them on. Her tunic, a ratty and worn green she’d bought moons ago, now felt as filthy as it looked against her flesh. Monster gore, mud, and gods knew what else stained the fabric, leaving the tunic stiff and crusty in places, but it was her last intact outfit. She forced down her discomfort and finished getting dressed.

The walk back to the office was much brisker than her walk from it, both from her lack of snooping, and her newfound urgency in each step. She did not want to insult her hosts, especially since not only was one of them armed, but the sprawling complex meant they had money behind them, too. An enemy with money was an enemy she did not want.

Pushing past the door to the main hall, Vira stood around the corner from the office-like room. A part of her could not help but think she could turn left and walk out of the building, opposed to turning right, to meet her hosts once more. Unfortunately, Vira did not have the opportunity to make that choice, for the unmistakable sound of metal-on-metal coming from the office forced her hand.

Unstrapping her staff from her back, Vira pushed through the doors on instinct, though what awaited her could only be described as confusing. The white haired man flailed somewhat indignantly, his blade on the floor across the room from him. Attached to the back of his head was Nyx– when had she gotten here?– who seemed equally as panicked, her small hands clawing at his face. Behind them both was the blonde woman, her arms outreached in an attempt to grab the Sylph and pull her off of the Hyuran man. In the corner was Miss Taru, who seemed to be half way between crying in fear and cheering on her allies.

“Where. Is. Helpful one!” Nyx strained from atop the man’s head, pulling the skin of his cheeks back in what had to be a fairly painful fashion. The man tried to say something, but it came out incomprehensible with his lips pulled tight.

Vira stood silent in shock, none seeming to have noticed her entrance. She wasn’t gone for thirty minutes, how in the hells did the situation descend so swiftly? “N-Nyx, I’m right here!” The words came out weak, barely a whisper in the loud situation. Taking a deep breath, Vira steadied her lungs, and spoke once more. “Anyxia!”

The single word seemed to echo in the small room, for all the weight it carried. Every person present froze, their gazes turning towards the small Au Ra. Vira tried and failed to fight off the embarrassed blush that now adorned her face. It was Nyx that broke the silence, removing herself from the Hyuran man’s head. “Helpful one! This one feared helpful one had done something idiotic agai–”

“You thought I did something idiotic?!” Vira couldn’t help but exclaim. “I’m trying to get work and make allies, and you are the one trying to claw the faces off of them!”

“This one tried diplomacy, but–”

“Actually,” the Hyuran man interrupted, “the Sylph barged into the Solar, and threw a dagger seeking my face with naught but a moment’s warning.”

Vira could do little more than pinch the bridge of her nose, her fingers lying just under her glasses, and shake her head. “Please forgive us, kind madams and sir.” Vira flicked her tail outwards as she fell into a bow. “Anyxia was only worried for me, I’m sure she meant… no offence.”

Nyx grumbled something incomprehensible, but otherwise remained mum.

“If you would still consider hiring us, we would surely be indebted to you,” Vira pleaded. “Though, I understand if that is no longer the case.” Without waiting for a response, the girl beckoned for her companion to her side, and turned to make for the exit.

“Wait one moment,” the Hyur in pink called. “While one such as you is not the typical sort we hire, I am sure we may yet find a role for you to play.”

The Raen’s hand froze on the half open door, her thoughts stuttering in attempt to comprehend what she’d heard. Slowly, she craned her neck back towards the group. The woman had a small smile across her features, warm and inviting. Kind. “Are… are you sure?”

“You may call me Minfilia,” the woman said. “That is Thancred, and I believe you are acquainted with Tataru.”

She tried to bring forth words, though she hardly knew what to say. People who were this wealthy just did not hire independents, only guild members. Of course, it could yet be a trap, but to what end? She was nobody, and she was evidently not in as strong a position as she had thought to stop them. Really, who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth? “What do I have to do?”

/-/

“Helpful one has had a lot of bad ideas, but this one takes the cake.”

“You say that about all my ideas, Nyx.”

“This one is usually right.”

Vira ignored the Sylph’s pestering, her focus instead on making her new bed. Minfilia, or the Antecedent as her title beckoned, had lacked any jobs for them at the moment, but had deemed fit to hire her on retainer, and give them bunks at least for the night. The amount paid was honestly a somewhat pitiful amount, but it meant she could afford at least a mediocre meal every day, which was worth more than any coin given her present situation.

She still wasn’t entirely sure what it was Miss Taru, Minfilia, and Thancred did, per se, but they seemed legitimate enough, despite Nyx’s constant warnings. She just couldn’t see criminals being so… nice. A dull knock rang from their room’s door, drawing alarm from Nyx, and confusion from Vira. It was their building, not hers, so why bother knocking to begin with? Vira opened the door.

Standing before her was Miss Taru, a bundle of neatly folded clothes held in her arms. “Vira!”

“H-hello, Miss Taru.” Vira bowed her head slightly, unsure of just how much respect she was supposed to show her now-employers.

“You have no need to sound so reserved, Vira,” Miss Taru said. “You were so animated earlier! Between us, I think that’s what convinced Minfilia to hire you, in the end.”

“O-oh, I’ll…” Vira paused, racking her mind for what to say. “I’ll try my best?”

Miss Taru giggled good-naturedly, before passing by Vira and placing the pile of clothes on her bed. “Here! I noticed you didn’t have anything else to wear, and I still had some old pieces lying around from when I was practicing sewing different builds. They won’t be exact fits, but… I hope you like them!”

Vira was stunned into silence. Gingerly, she picked up the garb, holding it outstretched before her. The fabric was soft, softer than she remembered possible. It made her own clothes feel even dirtier, and she was filled with the sudden urge to drop it and move away, lest her own filth spread to the pristine wear. It was composed of a relatively simple white top, with baggy sleeves that were designed to run to the elbow. A somewhat short, pink skirt remained folded on the bed. What caught her attention, though, was what looked to be something between a cape and a cloak, with a hood to cover her head, flowing fabric that would hang behind her, while covering her shoulders like a short shawl. Like the skirt, it was a bright pink, with the hems of the shawl portion being dyed a dark brown.

There were no doubts that it was too big for her, and she suspected that she’d likely not grow into the outfit fully until another couple of summers had come and gone, yet she was unable to deny the well of emotion that pushed in her chest. She could feel the stares of Nyx and Miss Taru on her back, both waiting expectantly for her reaction.

No words passed her lips, but she couldn’t stop the well of tears that began to flow from her eyes.

“O-oh, do you not like it?” Miss Taru sounded hurt, though she tried to disguise it. “I can see what else I ha–”

“It’s perfect,” Vira whispered, finally finding her voice. “It’s perfect. T-thank you, thank you so much! How can I ever repay you?”

Finally turning to face Miss Taru, Vira could see water in the Lalafell’s eyes, her smile quivering slightly. “Your reaction was all the payment I needed, Vira. Good night.”

“Good night, Miss Taru.” The door clicked shut. After a moment of silence, Vira looked at Nyx. “Still think they’re bad guys?”

The Sylph, conspicuously silent through the conversation, only grunted and floated to her own bed. It was only after cozying up on her pillow, an undeniably cute affair regardless of what the Sylph claimed, that she finally spoke. “This was supposes they aren’t all bad.”

“Thank you!” Vira rolled on her heels, no longer trying to contain her giddiness. “Look at my new outfit, Nyx! It’s so pretty!”

“This one just saw it,” Nyx complained. “Go to sleep, helpful one. These ones do not know what walking ones will want in the morrow.”

“Nothing we can’t get through, Nyx. Not as long as we stick together.”

Vira could practically hear the eye roll the Sylph gave in response, as she ever did to her cheesy words of confidence. It brought a smile to her face, and a warm feeling within. Sleep came easy that night.

/-/

Morning came, almost as a shock to Vira. She had been half convinced she’d awake back at camp, her good fortune nothing but a well-wishing dream. When she awoke on a soft bed, with well-sewn, clean clothes at the foot of it, she practically jumped for joy. Nyx grumbled something in her sleep, probably scolding her for being too loud so early, though Vira found it hard to care.

With haste, Vira changed into the outfit Miss Taru had left for her, excited to wear something clean for a change. It was definitely too large for her, with the elbow-length sleeves reaching to her forearms and the cape dragging on the ground behind her, but with some well-placed buckles and straps, she made it work.

With clean hair, skin no longer caked in mud, and clothes that didn’t reek worse than an Amalj’aa dumping ground, she almost felt like a real adventurer. A professional. Staff in hand, she left her room to meet her new employers.

Following the sound of voices down the hall, Vira found her way to what seemed to be a cross between a mess hall, a lounge, and a storage room. The walls were lined with crates and barrels of various sizes, with collections of tables and chairs spread haphazardly throughout the room. Above was a railed-off walkway, built into the upper walls, which she suspected she could find access to by looping back past the dorms. The Antecedent, Thancred, and Miss Taru sat around one of the tables, while two newcomers dressed in garb similar to Thancred’s stood nearby, orbiting the group.

Despite her best attempt to enter unheard, attention was quickly turned on her as the heavy door groaned shut, halting their conversation. Vira felt herself shrink, despite her best efforts to stay confident. “Um. Hello.”

Miss Taru gave an enthusiastic wave, but it was the Antecedent who spoke up. “Young Vira, pray join us. I’d wish to introduce you to two more members of our ranks. This here is Urianger, and that is Y’shtola.”

The first individual she motioned to, Urianger, seemed to be tall even for the Elezen he was. He wore a long, black, robe, with a white shawl, both of which were lined with red. What little skin that remained exposed was pale, his upper face covered by goggles, with a second, more elaborate set sitting on his forehead, over the hood. Strands of white hair peaked from under his hood, while his jaw was adorned with well-trimmed sideburns.

The second was a Miqo’te woman with hair as white as both Thancred and Urianger, and were it not for their variety, Vira would have thought them related. The Miqo’te, Y’shtola, kept her hair shorter than Thancred’s, with the exception of two bound locks hanging to frame her face. She too wore the same goggles as Urianger had atop his head– which she also now realised Thancred wore strapped to an arm– hung from her neck. At her waist was a twig, still sprouting healthy leaves. A wand. Her outfit was much simpler than the others, being little more than a mildly ornate, white tunic, and plain blue pants. Both of them had a similar, red marking as Thancred.

Vira looked between the party sheepishly, slowly waving one hand for a small wave. “Hi.”

“It is our greatest joy to accept thee into our fold. Forgive any impoliteness, but dost thou not waketh with thy companion?” Urianger said. It took a moment for Vira to understand what he had asked, herself only having the faintest grasp on formal and ‘high’ speech from her nameless mentor’s journal. Pirates and low-lifes did not often have the largest of vocabularies.

Before she had a chance to respond, Y’shtola spoke up. “Do forgive our long-winded friend. Despite his mannerisms, he can be all too blunt when he wishes. Your friend is more than welcome to rest her wings as long as she likes.”

“U-um… there’s nothing to forgive,” Vira stammered. It was hard to speak, her breaths increasingly shallow. Sudden and without warning, she felt her skin grow warm, and every crackle of the wall-mounted lanterns and candles seemed deafening. “Please, e-excuse me.”

Vira tried to ignore the confused looks donned by her… whatever the strange group of people were to her. Colleagues? Employers? Strange, friendly kidnappers? Without waiting for a response, she hurried out of the room. She stumbled somewhat, but refused to let it slow her, as she burst out the front doors of the building, making way for the docks. Vesper Bay was still in the morning lull, with many of the merchants and markets only beginning to set up for the day’s work.

Near instantly, she felt herself cool down. No eyes on her. No expectations. No worries. Just her, and lapping of the tides. “Deep breaths, Vira. Deep breaths.”

The moment stretched farther than the horizon, yet ended all too soon when she heard footsteps behind her. “Are you okay, Vira?”

Vira flinched, used to the voice of Nyx at her back, not the gentler tones of Miss Taru. “I’m sorry, Miss Taru.”

“Sorry?” The Lalafell sat next to her, genuine confusion in her voice. “You have nothing to be sorry for! It was a lot, especially so early. We’re sorry.”

“But it was my fault. You were just being kind. So kind.” Vira paused, finally turning to meet Miss Taru’s eyes. “Why are you all being so kind?”

“Minfilia had wanted to tell you after breakfast, but I guess there’s no reason to not tell you now,” Miss Taru said. “We’re the Scions of the Seventh Dawn! Well, they are, I’m just the secretary. And the coin-counter.”

Vira stared blankly at her, looking for words that evaded her for only a moment. “Did I join a cult?”

“What?!” Miss Taru yelped, waving her hands in front of her. “No no no, we’re not a cult. We’re dedicated to the betterment of Eorzea, to protecting her from harm.”

“But… Why me?” Vira asked. “If you really are trying to look out for the entire realm, why bother with just… little old me?”

“Eorzea isn’t just a land, Vira. It’s her people, too. We couldn’t call ourselves the Scions if we turned away a half-dead little girl.”

“Ouch,” Vira said, though her voice held no offense. “Am I really that bad?”

Miss Taru giggled into her hand, a small smile growing across her face. “Not anymore! New clothes and a dunk in the bath can work wonders!”

“Oh! Speaking of the bath,” Vira said. “One of the heating crystals has a fracture. I don’t think it’s dangerous, but you should probably get it replaced.”

Miss Taru gave her a quizzical look. “We only just got them, they shouldn’t be dama-”

“Oh, it’s just a small fracture for now. I barely noticed it!” Vira said. “It’s a very good cut, otherwise the fracture could have… well, you might not have had a tub anymore.”

Miss Taru smiled, and it became Vira’s turn to shoot the smaller woman a questioning look. “What is it?”

“Just marveling at how quickly that timid little Au Ra disappears when you get talking.”

“Wha–? But–” Vira sputtered, earning a giggle from Miss Taru. Vira smiled.

“Come on, let’s go back inside. If you’re going to be sticking around, the others will want to get to know you.” Tataru paused. “You can tell me if it’s too much, and we can leave.”

“T-thank you, Miss Taru.”

Vira anticipated feeling anxious and claustrophobic upon stepping back down the stairs, and was firmly surprised when she not only didn’t feel them, but when in their place was warmth. Not from the room, or the building, but from Miss Taru.

Vira did not leave the building, the Waking Sands as she learned, for the remainder of the day. Instead, she spent the bells mingling with her new… she still wasn’t sure what they were to her. The Antecedent made it very clear that she was not to go babbling about the Scions or their location, which made Vira wonder why they had let a stranger in to begin with. It was in watching an interaction between Miss Taru and Minfilia that Vira realised why; it seemed the Highlander had a harder time saying no to Miss Taru than most.

Nyx had emerged from their shared room less than a bell after Vira had, and seemed more than happy to brood in the corner instead of mingling. After a long while of coercion, Vira finally managed to convince the Sylph to verbally apologize to Thancred. Vira had already received assurance from him that none were strictly needed, but both thought Nyx could use the practice regardless. Vira still was not sure if she had picked up on their prank.

While the Scions seemed to avoid any history lessons of their organization, Vira did learn that they positioned themselves in the three cities that still allowed travellers to come and go. Y’shtola was assigned to Limsa Lominsa, Thancred to Ul’dah, and two others she had yet to meet to Gridania; a Lalafell named Papalymo, and a Hyur named Yda. While Thancred was local and Y’shtola could sail across the channel, they were rarer around the Waking Sands due to the distance. Apparently they were all sent out looking for recruits of some kind, but when asked why not just recruit locally, they got clammy again. It annoyed Vira and Nyx, the latter doubly so, but she could understand the secrecy. She was new, and she was sure she would learn in time.

They also told her that, despite their small numbers, they did have other agents who came and went, and not to panic if she happened to see any others in the Waking Sands.

“Hello, Vira.” The sole Miqo’te approached her, Vira having retreated to a corner of the room and sipping some form of foreign fruit juice. The gathering had turned into a miniature party of sorts, and while they were hardly drunk, Vira had removed herself once a handful of drinks had been poured. Miss Taru had been kind enough to give her the juice in place of alcohol.

“Hi, miss Y’shtola. Did you want something?”

“Your friend, the Sylph, challenged Thancred to who could do the most shots.”

“Doesn’t he know Sylphs need milkroot to get drunk?”

“Not in the slightest,” Y’shtola gave out a small huff of a laugh. “But your friend can only hold so much, given her size.”

“Oh, don’t worry! This isn’t the first time she’s done this.”

Y’shtola hummed in acknowledgment, nursing a small drink of her own. The two watched Nyx and Thancred take shots, Minfilia and Miss Taru cheering on their fellow Scion, one much louder than the other.

“Tataru tells me you spotted a cracked crystal in the tub’s heating array.”

“What? Oh, I saw it was leaking aether, and–”

“How?”

“I trained– am training– to be a Conjurer.”

Y’shtola tilted her head, her eyes roving over the Au Ra’s face. Studying her. Waiting for her to say something more. Finally, the older woman broke the silence. “How interesting.”

“W-what’s interesting?” Vira stammered, her cheeks turning red. She didn’t like having so much attention on her.

“Apparently, you are.” Y’shtola finally turned away, taking another sip of her drink. “I inspected the crystal array while the others celebrated. Managed to find the cracked one, too.”

“That’s… good?” It was Vira’s turn to eye Y’shtola, not taking a moment to bother hiding her confusion. The other woman’s were firmly set on her drink.

“It took nearly half a bell to determine which one had the crack. I had begun to suspect none were damaged at all, for a moment.” Another sip of her drink, before turning to meet Vira, eye to eye, once more. “So, how did you notice it?”

“I-I don’t know,” Vira said. “I just took a look at them, and I could… I don’t know, feel it? See it? Aether, that is. I’ve always been able to, ever since I started learning conjury.”

“Vira.” Y’shtola’s voice took on a serious edge. “I have trained in the arts of magic, conjury especially, for the better part of my life. I have never been able to view aether like so. Not without tools.”

“You… you can’t?” Vira asked, the weak brush of panic beginning to feel under her ribs. “What’s s-special about me, then?”

Y’shtola smiled. It was something warm, like Minfilia’s, but with less heart. Not cruel, but pragmatic. “I haven’t the slightest. Would you be so inclined as to find out?”

“Y-you mean–”

“I am willing to tutor you?” Y’shtola finished. “Yes, if you would be so willing.”

“I–” Vira began, her answer cut short by a loud exclamation from the table. Nyx cheered loudly, shouting praise to herself with language she had scantily heard since her time at sea, all the while the Antecedent and Miss Taru called insults in jest. Thancred’s head rested on the table, groaning loudly about his loss. “I’m so sorry, miss Y’shtola, I have to go help Nyx. She always does this, and always ends up sick.”

“It is of no concern to me, Vira. All I ask of you is that you consider my offer.” She raised her drink an ilm and nodded her head, bidding Vira farewell for the time. Vira returned it.

Nyx swayed in the air, not out of any sense of inebriation, but sickness. Her kind drank little besides water, and while the copious amounts of alcohol did little to get her drunk, it was not something Sylphs were used to metabolizing. Nyx had grown something of a tolerance to it, evident by the many times she had done this before to win bets, but that hardly meant it was good for her. Though, Vira supposed it wasn’t exactly good for mankind, either.

“Hah! This one reigns victorious!” Nyx cheered, sending Thancred a rude gesture that Vira dared not make herself. The Hyur in question moaned something incomprehensible. “White-haired walking one is a lightweight, this one is–”

“–about to be awfully sick.” Vira finished, gently placing a hand on her back, just beneath her fluttering wings.

“This one is fine,” Nyx said, though the groan from within her spoke otherwise. “But perhaps helpful one would like to accompany this one outside?”

Vira chuckled, calling a thanks and an apology for Nyx to the others, before escorting the Sylph back to the surface. Less than a second from the outer door closing behind them, Vira turned to Nyx. “I need your help.”

“Could this one have–” she gagged, trying to expel the alcohol into the water, “–one moment?”

“This is important! Y’shtola said she wanted to teach me!”

Nyx managed to spit up a concerning amount of booze, the sounds of her retching oddly reminiscent of a gale rustling the canopy. Vira had once been worried about the habit Nyx made of this, but since Sylphs got all the energy they needed from the sun, she lacked any fluids that could be harmful on the way up. Vira had once called her a fleshy, leafy, bottle.

Nyx wiped some residue from her mouth. “Walking one wishes to help you? Helpful one’s choice seems obvious, why consult this one?”

“Firstly,” Vira snarked, “I’m not going anywhere without you. We are a team, equals. Of course I would consult you.”

Nyx rolled her eyes. Vira knew that the Sylph had little care for where the duo travelled, but that would never stop her from getting her partner’s opinion regardless.

“Secondly… it would mean going back. To La Noscea,” Vira said. “It’s where she’s stationed.”

The Sylph’s mouth opened and closed, prior to settling on an open ‘oh’ shape. It was only after another moment of awkward silence she managed to find her words. “This one understands, but this one must also ask… it has been nearly two years, has it not?”

“I know I’m being silly,” Vira groaned, “and I know that it’s my home, but the thought of going back…”

“Helpful one is not being… silly,” Nyx forced out, such an informal word clearly foreign on her tongue. “This one will not push helpful one if helpful one is not ready, however.”

A frown crossed Vira’s face, the frustration regarding her inability to hide her feelings only deepening it. If she had wanted such a non-answer, she would not have bothered asking to begin with. Vira muttered beneath her breath. “It would be nice to have some better training…”

Nyx’s face twisted, a dozen emotions seemingly crossing it in a single instant. The Au Ra had a difficult time deciphering it, but it seemed to land on some strange hybrid between resigned and hopeful. “This one does have an idea, but…”

“What is it?” Vira tried not to let any emotion, positive or negative, to shine through. She doubted how successful she had been.

“This one knows of a group who can wield powerful magicks. Those ones are most skilled in glamours and illusions, but this one believes it will help helpful one’s conjury training.”

“And you’ve waited until now to mention it?” Vira asked. “What changed?”

“If these ones are joining those ones, this one fears these ones will end up in worse trouble than before. Those ones seem dangerous, and this one wants helpful one to be prepared.”

“Ugh, they seem like good people, not some… terror magnets or something,” Vira scoffed. “But, if that’s what it takes to get you to show me some enigmatic group of casters, I guess I can’t complain. Who are they, anyway?”

Nyx looked down, her entire body bobbing in the air. It was a movement Vira had come to learn was akin to kicking the dirt. “This one’s home, in the Twelveswood. Casting ones are this one’s fellow Sylphs.”

It was Vira’s turn to make the awkward ‘oh’ face, little else but surprise racing through her mind. “I thought…”

“This one left, yes,” Nyx finished. “A homecoming is overdue, this one thinks.”

Unable to find further words, Vira instead pulled the smaller Spoken into a hug, promptly ignoring her pleas to be released. Her head resting atop Nyx’s, she spoke a soft thanks.

Telling Y’shtola proved easier than expected, with the Miqo’te evidently seeing through her not-so-subtle ruse of pulling Nyx aside for consultation. The offer was left open, however, should she ever wish to travel to La Noscea. Vira thanked her profusely for her generosity, up until the older woman all but shooed her off with a smile. Even Nyx gave a small nod of appreciation.

Looking across the room, Vira couldn’t help but smile. From what was heard throughout the day, gatherings like this were far and few between with their evidently busy schedules. Despite clearly being professionals, the underlying bonds between them all practically lit up the room. The smiles, the laughter, the jokes… It was the happiest scene Vira had seen for a long while.

As each member turned in for the night, smiles on their faces despite their day off having been crashed by a small Lominsan girl, Vira couldn’t help but wonder how events would play out in the coming moons. So long, it had just been her, and then Nyx. An excited sort of worry bubbled in her throat. Giddy anticipation. She had a feeling things would be all right.