Chapter Text

“Sorry, how much?” Rex resists the urge to let his mouth hang open. The money he’s being offered is more than he’s seen in his life. “You’re joking, right?”

“Actually, that only the advance.” Chairman Bana pronounces the words with the exact pompous air that one would expect from a man willing to offer an advance of a hundred thousand gold on a job. “Another 100,000 gold upon completion of job.” Rex pales, the mere thought of 200,000 gold more than enough incentive to accept.

He stammers, not quite grasping the magnitude of such a sum. “I-I must be dreaming! 200,000 in total?” He straightens his posture, a fire in his eyes. “I’ll take it. I hereby swear that I will use every skill I possess to ensure this job’s completion.”

It’s only when the words have left his mouth in a flurry of greed and determination that Rex realizes that he hasn’t actually received any information about this job past its pay, as Bana is quick to point out. “You really have skills for job…?”

Rex nearly jumps to reassure Bana, and the Nopon shrugs, asking his attendant to bring the crew in. In the time it takes for the attractive young woman to retrieve the crew, Rex is left to stand there and speculate on what kind of people would be looking to hire a salvager for such a hefty sum. Whatever he expects, it’s not the two girls who enter the room, each trailed by a Blade.

The first girl is garbed in a yellow jumpsuit with a lopsided belt that keeps two large hoops on one side and three small knives at the other side of her waist. Her silver hair is short and flawlessly blends into a pair of matching ears, indicating the girl’s Gormotti bloodline. To keep her vision clear, there’s a shock of color in the form of two yellow ribbons tying her hair out of the way on either side. She is flanked by a large tiger, a beast type Blade with eyes that are human and out of place on what could easily be mistaken for an animal in the wilds if not for the glowing blue core crystal nestled in his fluff.

The next girl—no, woman—that enters the room is likely the prettiest woman Rex has ever seen. She’s tall and carries herself with a demure grace that somehow stands unfaltering and proud against the others in the room. Her hair is red, fiery red, and matches the rest of her outfit—striking red against pale skin. Her shoulders are covered in a red, hooded cloak that covers her chest, and the underside of the cape is lined in a shimmery gold fabric that seems to soften her appearance. Her long legs are encased in matching thigh high socks, coupled with shorts that are too short for Rex to keep a clear head.

She’s equal parts delicate curves and sharp lines, and Rex has to remind himself that he needs to breathe and stay in the present moment.

Her Blade is intimidating. That’s the only word he can think to form after the shock of her, and he realizes that it’s because it’s strangely fitting when applied to the lady in red. The two are just intimidating. The Blade stands tall behind the woman, glaring at the world with the authority of a man with one purpose that he’s never once had difficulty in achieving.

The two Drivers and their Blades step to the side, and it’s only now that Rex notices the fifth of his employers, a man reminiscent of a volff, with hard, unflinching eyes and a silver mask. He stands completely secure in himself and his safety, and he is not accompanied by his own Blade.

“There’s something we want to haul up,” the man speaks, his voice forcing Rex to re-focus. “There were some current shifts, and it showed up in an uncharted area. But it’s a long way down.” He emphasizes long, as if it were meant to deter the young salvager. Rex merely puffs out his chest, grinning from ear to ear. The thought of 200,000 gold flashes across his mind, filling him with determination.

“Nice, I like a good challenge!”

“Bana offered to assemble team of veterans for job, but this crew very picky. Only want small elite team, and only from Leftheria. That when Bana have stroke of genius, should hire Rex!”

Rex lets out an elated laugh, throwing an arm behind his head. “You made the right choice!” Before he can finish his thought, the Gormotti girl laughs, unable to contain herself.

“A child salvager? You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says, mirth clear in her eyes. “Jin, don’t tell me we’re going to have to hire some babysitters for this outing, too.”

Rex raises an eyebrow at her insinuation, stepping towards her in his annoyance. “What the hell? You look just as much like a kid as I do.” It’s true—she’s shorter than him, her face youthful and matching her voice. He’s willing to bet that if they stood facing each other at full height, he’d easily be several inches taller than her, and he’d stake a good thousand gold that they were around the same age.

She’s still snickering, eyes wicked as she looks him over once. “At least I wouldn’t wet myself at a measly hundred grand.”

“What are you trying to say?” He’s halfway across the room now, only half thinking about all the gold he might be forfeiting.

Her Blade clears his throat suddenly, bowing his head with a grace that suits his stature. “Rex, was it? I implore you to excuse my lady’s discourtesy.” Before Rex can respond, his attention is drawn back to the Driver.

Her ears flicker in annoyance, and she lets out a slight growl. “Dromarch! What have I told you about—”

“Nia,” the red lady speaks, her voice just as lovely as her appearance. Focus, Rex. “You should calm down. He may be young, but it’s not difficult to test his prowess without resorting to insults.” She looks directly at him for the first time, and Rex’s heart threatens to burst. At first he thinks it’s because of her beauty and her burning red irises, but then he picks up half a second’s dangerous intent before she draws the sword from her waist with lightning speed.

He reacts with a practiced speed, forged after five years of living only under Azurda’s guidance, and dodges her sudden lunge, drawing his weapon the moment he gets the chance. It’s just in time, too—he has less than a second to block her next swing, and catches it with him own sword, glaring at her with exactly as much intensity as is merited by a sudden ambush. She looks down at him with interest for a long moment that almost makes him feel like he’s dying a little bit before she gracefully, effortlessly sends him staggering backwards with a single movement of her sword.

“What the hell’re you tryin’ to do?” Rex nearly yells, temper flaring. She merely smiles, sheathing the sword without looking.

“Well, you won’t die, at least not here,” she says simply.

“Pyra! What good is there in beating up a kid like this?” The Gormotti girl, Nia, says, shocked at the woman’s actions.

“You were the one who brought up the fact that he didn’t seem capable,” she says simply, the air crackling around her even after she’s sheathed her weapon.

“I said nothing of the sort!” Nia’s ears are raised up in her anger, and Rex finds himself appreciating the change in her demeanor. He likes her better now that she’s defending him.

“I’m confused. What other concern would you have about his age? It’s not as if he would have survived the job if he couldn’t even block one of my attacks, anyhow.” She looks back at him with an approving glance. He relaxes a bit, sword still firmly in both hands as she surveys him.

“I approve,” she says simply. “Skill, and guts. I’m sure that whether you provide good work is out of the question.” She nods to Jin and Nia and strides out, followed closely by all except Nia, who lets out a heavy, full-body sigh. When she turns her head to see Rex looking at her, she shoots him a glare and follows after the other two without a second look, only Dromarch offering him the dignity of a goodbye in the form of bowing his head respectfully.

The treatment from Rex’s new employers leaves a sour taste in his mouth, which quickly clears along with the air when Bana places a large bag on his desk that rings out with the sweet sound only a hundred thousand gold can make.

Rex thanks him, the shock of the amount fading only for the true weight of his payment to be renewed in his head once he picks up the large bag of gold in one fist. This must be what power feels like, he thinks with a gulp, putting it into the bag on his side and triple checking that everything is secured before going out into the central area of Goldmouth.

The amount doesn’t truly sink in until he speaks to Melolo, the noponic woman at central exchange who he normally goes through to send money home. He finds himself leaning over the counter with a conspiratorial whisper when he’s forced to relay exactly how much money he’d come into, and finally it sinks in when Melolo nearly shouted the same amount in her shock.

Melolo’s excitement for him is nothing compared to the reaction he expects from Gramps when he tells him. “Oi, gramps!” The titan Azurda looks down at him with the almost parental expression Rex had many years to grow accustomed to.

“Back already, Rex?”

“I’ve got some really great news.” He can hardly contain himself, excitement seeping into his voice and sending jitters throughout his body. Rex bounces on his heels, feeling the excitement of being a kid again.

Azurda raises a grassy eyebrow. “Was the haul worth that much?”

“Better!” Rex explains how he’d gotten the job, the payment he’d received, how he’d be leaving for it tonight. Everything Azurda needed to know.

“That doesn’t explain a thing! You know nothing about your employers, you took a job without getting any details—”

“Ah, Gramps, you worry too much! I got the important details, I got the advance—”

“There’s a girl, isn’t there?” Azurda says suddenly, and Rex chokes on his words. Figures he’d pick up on such a subtle notion from Rex after years of raising him.

“What?” He stammers, trying to recover before Azurda can notice, but it’s too late.

“What’s her name?” Azurda says, pouncing on the notion faster than Rex ever thought possible.

“Th-that’s not important! There’s no girl!” Rex is flustered now, and deals with the situation the only way 15-year-old boys ever know how—denial and avoidance. “Anyways, I’m going to go gear up for the job and meet them at the docks. You can take a nap or something while I’m gone!”

“Rex!” Azurda’s call after the boy falls on deaf ears. He’s already run off back inside the guild, not bothering to look back while he gears up for his adventure. “That boy…”

~

Luck can’t shine down on Rex all the time—when he reports to the Maelstrom, he’s immediately informed that he has night watch, and given several hours, he decides to sleep until then.

He awakes with just enough time before his shift on watch to socialize a bit. He takes the opportunity, finding his curiosity about his employers far too much to not justify a bit of conversation. His eyes glance over Nia in favor of, preferably, someone nicer. He’s certainly not looking for one woman in particular, he just… doesn’t notice Nia standing next to Dromarch. Yeah, that’s it. Must be a subconscious thing.

He finds Pyra on the starboard side, standing next to her Blade. Her cloak is fluttering in the breeze, and she’s put her hood up. In the dim twilight, it’s dark enough to see that the bolts of green trimming her thigh highs practically glow, drawing an uncomfortable amount of attention to legs that really don’t need it.

Architect, help him.

Rex swallows thickly and approaches only after her Blade takes note of his presence.

“Your name was Rex, right?” She speaks, and he has to remind himself to breathe. “The salvager from Leftheria.”

“Right,” he says, standing beside her. “And you’re… Pyra?”

“Right, Nia must have told you. Sorry she picks on you so much. I think she secretly feels threatened that she’s not the youngest anymore.”

“Ah, it’s fine. Everyone’s got their reasons to act the way they do, after all. Your Blade’s name was…?”

“Sever,” she finishes. Sever nods his head, eyes locked on Rex in a way that almost intimidates him more than the power and beauty personified that stands between them. Almost. “He’s not as scary as he looks, I promise. He’s just a bit protective.”

“It’s not every day we see someone who can fend off Pyra,” Sever says. It’s difficult at first for him to recognize that Sever is trying to compliment him. “I look forward to seeing how you handle the work to come.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He feels a bit embarrassed at the sudden praise, then slightly more embarrassed when he’s forced to dismiss the thought that Sever isn’t exactly the one he wanted to hear it from.

Pyra tilts her head to one side. “Was there something you needed, Rex? You were put on night watch tonight, right?”

“Right, I was wanting to ask you about the job. What exactly is it that we’re…” Rex’s words die when his eyes land a familiar-looking Nopon further up the ship who walks behind a box, apparently hiding. “Pupunin?”

“What?”

“Sorry, I have to go check something out. But it was nice talking to you!”

“Oh, alright. See you around, Rex.”

The blood rushes to his face momentarily—he shakes his head to re-focus. He’s been doing that a lot lately. “Yeah. Y-you too.” He waves to her and walks with purpose towards the box he’d watched the Nopon hide behind, only to see an otherwise empty corner.

I could’ve sworn that I saw Pupunin walk here… With no Pupunin in sight, Rex sighs and reports to the watchtower for night watch. It’s now, some time later, that he finds himself staring out across the cloud sea with concentration and a little bit of that wonder that’s never quite left him, even after countless hours spent beneath its surface, even after years of watching it.

He notes movement amongst the clouds, and peers through his binoculars, steeling against a sudden breeze that sends goosebumps across the exposed skin of his arms from the cold. “Is that black ship following us?” He’s forced to dismiss the thought almost immediately in light of the faint clanking behind him.

He turns to look, and it’s Nia standing there, apparently in a significantly less antagonistic mood than in his previous interactions with her. “Ugh, it’s way too cold up here,” she says, almost in disgust, and shrinks away from the wind and into her hood. “My ears’re burning, and I’ve only been out here a few minutes. How can you stand it?”

Rex ignores the chill in favor of the obvious oddity in the situation. “You’re up here? Why?”

“I’ve got a name, you know—”

“Nia, isn’t it?”

Her ears shift her hood, Rex presumes as they twitch in response. He can’t help but think they’re the most honest thing about her expression thus far. “Right. Glad to see you’ve been paying attention.” She walks towards him, filling the empty space next to Rex. “Anyways, they started boozin’ below decks. You should go join them, I can take watch.”

“Why don’t you join them instead?”

“It’s not that I hate it,” she says, leaning on the railing and running her fingers through her bangs. “I just… don’t really like it, either.”

He suppresses a grin, mirroring her and leaning up against the railing. They’re looking out towards the World Tree now, and Rex’s heart swells a little bit at the sight. “Guess it’s a good thing you’re not a salvager, then.”

“Oi. I’m tryin’ to be nice here.”

“I’m just saying. Salvager’s code and all. Swim like a fish, and drink like one too.” He holds up a finger.

She clicks her tongue. “You know, you explained it but it still feels like you’re making fun of me.”

“Nah, not my intention.”

“Sure it’s not. I haven’t exactly been nice to you up to this point.” Was she trying to apologize?

He shakes his head. “It’s alright. I don’t blame you, I am one of the youngest salvagers in Argentum, after all.”

“Sure seem to like older women, though,” she says, and he coughs.

“What are you talking about?” The darkness of the night cloaks his blush, which he silently thanks the Architect for. Unfortunately for him, it can’t do anything for his stutter.

“I saw you talking to Pyra earlier. You’re not exactly inconspicuous, you know.” She laughs when he fails to form a proper response. “Can’t say I blame you. It took me a while to get used to her too.”

“Used to her?” He echoes. He’s not sure he knows the concept, certainly not with someone like Pyra.

“Yeah, after a while you learn how to not lose your mind over a body like hers.”

The realization that she’s not talking about being jealous hits Rex like a rampaging armu. “Y-you—”

“Oh, come on,” she says before he can finish the thought. “Look at her and tell me you would think anything different if you were a girl.”

After a moment of consideration, he nods. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” She’s joking around now, grin on her face.

“How long have you been working with them, anyway?”

“Jin and Pyra? A month or so. Why?”

He shrugs. “Just curious. You lot aren’t exactly the most transparent people I’ve worked for. Makes it hard not to wonder about you.”

“You’re curious, so what you ask is how long I’ve been working with them, not what it is we’re actually doing this job for. You’re a strange one, kid.”

“My name’s Rex. And for the record, I was getting to that.”

She pushes her hood back, shaking her head to fix her hair. “It’s just as well, Rex. I couldn’t tell you anyways. Those two haven’t exactly told me what it is we’re doing, yet.”

“Really? Why’re you working with them if they won’t even tell you what you’re trying to accomplish?” The thought crosses his mind that he’s doing the same, but he brushes it off. Maybe they’re paying Nia even more than he’s getting paid for this job. After all, whatever they need an extra Driver for must be truly fearsome.

She avoids eye contact. “That’s… complicated. I’m sure they’ll tell me eventually, but for now, I just need to prove myself as trustworthy. I don’t have much of an alternative, anyway.”

He holds his tongue, sure that what he really wants to say would only push her away, and after he’s worked so hard for her to talk to him like he’s an actual person. “I don’t know your situation, but surely there’s something else you could do other than work for them, hoping you’re not doing anything illegal.”

She scoffs, although Rex can’t fathom why. “There’s alternatives, but they’re not pretty. I’d rather stay where I am for now.”

“I don’t get why not, but if that’s where you want to be, I guess I can’t say too much.” He decides to relent. At least for now, it’s not worth pushing back on the breakthroughs he’s making. There’s a friend somewhere in Nia, regardless of their initial interaction.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Salvaging isn’t exactly the occupation of choice, and you’re working rather young. Why salvaging? You could’ve been a mercenary or a merchant, or anything in between. But you chose to stick with a job that’s not what I’d call safe or stable.”

“Well, that’s…” His eyes land on the World Tree rising from the horizon. Its leaves glow faintly against the night sky. They always struck him as extra stars, something to hope for. Somewhere up there is Elysium, the answer to all the wars and fighting down here on Alrest. “It’s stable if you know what you’re doing.”

“But it must’ve taken you a while to get to the point where you could turn a profit.”

Rex recalls a titan he and Azurda watched fall into the cloud sea’s depths several days back. The people who used to live on it might have known to evacuate, but he can’t help but think about the animals who couldn’t have done anything and sunk with it. “You know, I’ve never liked war. All those innocent people, getting hurt, and for what? Nothing they couldn’t have settled without resorting to violence. If there’s… a way to reach Elysium, to fix all the world’s problems, I can’t help but think that it’s hidden somewhere beneath our sea of clouds.”

She snorts. He only feels a bit stupid for thinking she would take him seriously. “Elysium? You really believe in that guff?”

“Why don’t you?” He counters her mirth with his usual positivity. “With the endless field of green Elysium promises, people could stop fighting. We’d have peace, and security. Happiness. Isn’t a dream like that worth believing in?”

“But would that be for everyone?” There’s something left unsaid in her words, but he decides not to pry. “Would everyone be able to share in that paradise?”

“Of course,” he says, shocked at the suggestion that anyone wouldn’t be deserving of a happy life atop the world tree. “No one’s beyond redemption.”

“You know, kid, I used to think people were pretty terrible by nature.” He nods, sensing her change in mood. He can’t really blame her, not when he’s seen how awful people can be. “But you’re pretty alright.”

~

When Rex awakes, a man’s voice is echoing through his room. After a moment of staring blearily, he gathers that they’ve arrived at the place and he, alongside the other salvagers on his team, are being called to report. He grabs for his helmet and is out the door the moment he registers the words.

He’s on the deck with the other salvagers in minutes, having gotten into his full salvaging suit faster than he’s ever had to. As the captain of their team speaks, he stands in the back of the group, checking every potential seam and snap to make sure he won’t suffer any sealing issues on his way down. The captain dismisses the salvaging team immediately after he finishes explaining, and Rex obeys, trailing after the others.

The wind is blustery, if the rain and everyone not on the salvaging team are any indication. People have to shield their eyes with their hands just to see, and not for the first time Rex is grateful for the total coverage the salvaging suit affords him. He may not have any sort of peripheral vision, but at least his eyes aren’t being assaulted by the weather. He steps off the grating shortly after the others, and as always, looks out over the horizon as his body descends toward the cloud sea.

The plunge is forgiving, and he reaches up and turns on his headlamp once the light of the world above him is officially blocked by the cloud sea. A quick glance around him comforts him as he watches the other salvagers descend, and excitement bubbles up within him at the prospect of finally seeing this ship that was worth shelling out what must’ve been millions of gold for.

It’s some time before Rex has anything visual to occupy his mind. 450 peds is an incredible distance, so he lets his thoughts roam as the pressure of the cloud sea blankets him and his team members.

Finally, a few of the salvagers further down begin swimming down with more fervor, and Rex follows their line of sight to see headlamps glinting off ancient, decaying metal, crawling with all sorts of things, from lost items to the rare plant or creature scuttling across its surface.

As he swims closer to it, flotation device at the ready, Rex notes that the ship doesn’t appear to have any sort of way to attach it to a titan. How did this thing use to move? Ancient civilizations must have had some crazy technology. How long had this ship been sitting here, waiting for the moment a team of salvagers would flock to it and cranes would force it from its slumber?

He sends a wave up to his team members when his part of the job is completed, and tentatively runs a hand over the metal of the ship. Sure, he can’t feel much, what with the thick fabric of his gloves in the way, but he does it anyway, lingering for a moment in appreciation for the feat of engineering laying before him.

Lightning cracks the sky as Rex resurfaces, and the ship isn’t far behind him. He’s hardly given the chance to take off the extra layer of his salvaging suit when he’s approached by Nia, who has an appreciative smile etched on her face. “Excellent work!” She says. “You’re not half bad, you know that?”

“Wouldn’t be able to make a living off it if I wasn’t any good, right?” He puffs his chest out, grinning. The teams make a move to roll out, just as Pyra and Jin pass him.

He’s pointedly trying to focus on anything other than Pyra when Jin stops and turns to him. “You. With us.”

“Me?”

“Seriously? You’re going to drag the kid along?” Nia says, and it’s like she lost every ounce of friendliness she’d shown him the previous night.

“Jin has his reasons, Nia,” Pyra says gently, one hand holding her hood up against the wind with determination. “If he weren’t necessary, we wouldn’t bring him. Don’t worry so much about his age; just focus on his value.”

Architect, she’s even more beautiful when she’s defending him. Nia can’t come up with a worthy response, it seems, so instead she shoots Rex a glare and they follow the other two in silence. They don’t get far, however, before Rex instinctively stops just moments before the others do. It’s good timing—the door to the ship suddenly flies off, bouncing in the spot Rex might’ve been standing in had he continued walking and crashing into one of the guard rails on the side. The metal bends and he swears he can hear the guard rails crunch under the pressure.

In the place the door used to be, there’s a furious Lysaat daring anyone to make a move or even a noise. Nia steps in front of Rex confidently, rings already in hand, and adopts a battle stance. “Let me show you what a Driver is capable of, Rex,” she says, and he already burns to show her up.

Not to be outdone, Rex draws the sword at his waist and joins as he and the group of Drivers launches into battle. His sword cuts shallow, almost pitiful against the onslaught from the others. He sends the sword straight into the space between the lysaat’s shell, as he’s learned to do from years of them coming up with him during his salvaging trips, and immediately pulls it out and scrambles back when Pyra lunges at the lysaat. He almost feels sorry for the poor thing, having been on the receiving end of Pyra’s sword exactly once, but then he’s pushed off the fence when her sword engulfs it in flames.

Ruthless. That’s the word Rex couldn’t place. She’s utterly, unapologetically ruthless.

The lysaat lets out a final cry as its body is scorched. The murmur coming from the other people on the ship is just barely audible over the rain—so that’s the power you get when you become a Driver!—and Rex isn’t quite sure if he’s actually hearing someone say it, or if it’s just his thoughts against the backdrop of rain.

“Let’s go,” Pyra says, sheathing her sword and striding towards the now permanently opened doors of the ancient ship. He watches her go for several moments, breathless, and it’s Nia’s hand on his shoulder that brings him back to Alrest.

She smirks. “She’s single, you know.” The blush that erupts on Rex’s face is enough satisfaction for her—she bursts out laughing. “Come on, best not keep Pyra or Jin waiting.”

~

The ship is dank when Rex steps inside. The air almost chokes him several feet in from its weight, and he takes a moment to re-orient himself in the dizzyingly thick atmosphere. Strangely enough, he seems to be the only one in the group affected by the humidity—even Nia, who he had been sure would have the worst time, what with her wearing that yellow jumpsuit and all. What kind of training had these three gone through, that they were fine in the humidity even though he was the salvager here?

Pyra moves at a surprisingly quick clip, her eyes perpetually focused on her goal, although Rex still isn’t quite sure what exactly it is. She’s so quick that he nearly trips multiple times trying to keep up with her, although Jin seems to have no issue. Damn tall people and their long legs. Not for the first time, Rex wishes for his growth spurt to come as he finds himself constantly short of breath and doing more work for the same distance.

At one point in his never-ending mission to keep up with the group’s unfailing speed, Pyra walks too close to one of the various forms of aggressive wildlife in the ship. It leaps at her, but she slams her sword down on it with enough force that the creature, along with the grating it lands on, both crash to the floor below with cacophonous results. Rex is simultaneously both very glad to be bringing up the rear of this ship investigation and very glad that he’s not going to have to actually fight Pyra anytime soon.

Rex is given the honor of carrying around an ether cylinder that Pyra picks up and seems to think is useful to their investigation. It proves to be when she uses it to power a control panel, which opens the door to a slimy, shark-like thing much like the ones Rex learned to avoid after horror stories from a more experienced salvager reached his ears.

Pyra stops a reasonable distance from it, arms crossed. It looks at her almost defiantly, letting out a noise that can only be described as a wet grunt. Rex’s hands are already on his sword when Pyra speaks. “Not going to let us through? …very well.” She grabs for her sword confidently, not breaking the creature’s gaze. “Consider this an act of mercy, then.”

The creature, much like the lysaat, goes down in no time thanks to the sheer power and skill Jin, Nia, and Pyra display. A stab of envy hits Rex in perfect synchronization with Jin’s killing blow against the creature. Jin slowly removes his sword with cold eyes, and Rex shudders as the creature lets out its final cries. It’s not quite that Rex wants the power, or the coldness that permeates Jin’s every action, but it would be nice, he thinks, to have enough power to be useful to the people he works for.

He wordlessly follows the others to a door at the end of the room, which is unusually ornate. Perfectly in the center is a raised circle, on which a strange-looking symbol that reminds Rex of a flame has been engraved. “Pyra, look,” Jin says, his voice the least confrontational Rex has ever heard it.

Pyra steps forward. “There’s no mistaking it,” she says. “Addam’s crest.”

“Addam’s… crest?” Rex echoes. A strange sense of foreboding washes over him suddenly. “Maybe we shouldn’t be here.”

“No, this is exactly where we need to be,” Jin says. “This is what we were looking for.”

“Rex, could you please open this door for us?” Pyra asks.

“Me? Why can’t any of you do it?” The idea is nothing but strange to him. Is this really what they brought him along for? To open a door?

Jin appears frustrated but only shakes his head. “You’re Leftherian, aren’t you? That door will only open for one of you.”

“I don’t really get it, but I guess I’ll open it.” He walks up to the door and surveys it with a watchful eye, curiously pressing a single gloved hand against the crest. To his surprise, it glows blue the moment his hand touches it, the door itself sliding back and out of the way within moments. The foreboding feeling only grows stronger as he steps into the room, which appears untouched by both time and the Cloud Sea itself, save for the strange fog that sits just above the floor.

The area around his feet glows a faint green each time his foot hits the ground. Sure, green is typically a comforting color, but every step towards the second door in front of him just feels like another red flag. “Wait!” Pyra speaks suddenly. Rex turns to look at her; she’s standing still, mostly focused on Nia, who appears to have rushed forward to follow him. “Open the second door, too, please.” The last person he wants to annoy with his need to know what’s going on is Pyra, so he nods and watches as a second door lights up and hides in response to his touch.

The fog diffuses before his eyes, and the room he walks into is mostly empty, save for a sword and a tank in the center of the room. The sword is jet black and appears dormant. There is a crystal embedded just above the hilt that glints against what little light is in the room, like shining obsidian.

He’s vaguely aware of the sound of the others walking into the room behind him, but his eyes follow the direction the sword’s hilt points, to the tank barely large enough to contain a muscular man who appears to be sleeping. Just above his crossed arms sits a purple core crystal that mirrors the one in the sword. Wait… he’s a Blade. What’s a Blade doing down here? Why isn’t his core crystal blue like Blades usually have?

As he stares up at the mysterious man, the sense of foreboding he’d felt fades away in tandem with a soft purple glow that alights on his face. He looks back down at the sword, which appears to be the source; it’s glowing brighter every second, and before he realizes it, he’s reaching to touch the glowing crystal.

“Rex, don’t touch that!” Pyra’s words are no deterrent for a man entranced by a sword. He closes the gap, and the crystal responds to his touch much in the way the doors had—it begins glowing with more intensity immediately. The purple washes over the room until it’s white hot, but upon further consideration, the explosion of white and purple at the edges of his vision might have something more to do with the sword that’s been plunged through his back.

“If you knew what was coming, you’d be thanking me,” Jin says. All Rex hears, however, is Pyra’s voice repeating consider this an act of mercy at the back of his mind as the glow, along with the rest of his vision, fades.

Chapter Text

“Jin, what the hell?” Nia’s voice is nothing short of horrified as Rex crumples to the floor. Jin is unaffected, adjusting his mask and sheathing his sword calmly. Pyra strides past the corpse—Architect, he’s already dead—and pulls down the tank. “Why did you kill him?”

“It’s a shame,” Pyra agrees as she helps lower the tank to Jin. “I suppose it was for the best, however.”

“For the best? What’s ‘for the best’ about killin’ an innocent kid? He was fifteen!” She clenches her fists until they shake. Dromarch tries to calm her, but she's unreceptive and only glances at him in acknowledgement.

“We were going to kill him anyway,” Jin says.

"Maybe so, but perhaps we should have warned her," Pyra says. She considers her words for a moment, then walks over to Rex’s body. “If it upsets you so much, Nia, then call the Monoceros. We can make sure his body gets sent back to Leftheria, but we can’t un-kill him.” Nia doesn't reply.

“Nia?”

“I’ll call the Monoceros,” she says finally, fists clenched.

“Thank you.” Pyra watches Nia stalk off. When she's a reasonable distance away from the others, Pyra returns to her work. Nia is left to steep in outrage in near peace, excepting for Dromarch, who quietly does his best to work her through her shock. Aside from him, the room is silent. Silent like the heartbeat of a boy who just happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong people.

Nia wants to throw up.

~

Green. The world surrounding him as his eyes open is nothing but green, at least until he gets his face out of the grass. His chest aches, although he can't quite figure out why. He pushes himself up, taking in the area around him.

He’s sitting in a field at the foot of a gentle slope. At the top of the slope is a tree, under which someone is silhouetted against a cloudless sky. They appear to be the only person around, unless he wants to venture into the line of trees some distance behind him in hopes of finding other human life. From somewhere in the distance, a bell echoes methodically. It’s almost eerie, how it shows no sign of slowing. He’d go mad, listening to that every day of his life.

He approaches the person on the hill, finding that they’re really his only choice for figuring out, well, everything. “Um, excuse me?”

Now that he’s a little closer to the person, he can see that he’s a rather muscular (and honestly intimidating) man. He's got a core crystal in his chest when he turns, although it's strange that it's purple instead of blue. Where has he seen a purple core crystal before? He should definitely remember such a strange Blade, yet...

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says. “I’d tell you my name, but… I can’t seem to remember much of anything right now. Do you… know where we are?” For some reason he can’t place, the strange Blade is strikingly familiar. Then again, he can’t really seem to place much of anything in his mind right now.

“You’re Rex,” he says. Rex accepts it as fact, because really, he has nothing to dispute it, and it doesn’t feel incorrect. “You’re probably disoriented."

Disoriented doesn’t even begin to cover it. He feels hollow where the ache in his torso emanates from, and the longer he looks at this place, the more unfamiliar it seems. As if he should know where this place is, but it’s just escaped him completely. “Yeah, I guess I am. Have we met before? I know you, I think.”

“My name is Malos. We’ll get through this quicker if you just let me talk and ask any other questions when I’m done.”

Seems reasonable. Even if it weren’t, Rex gets the feeling that it’s better for him to just listen. “This is Elysium, or a reconstruction of it at least. It was created from my memories. I don’t know how you found me on that ship, but shortly after we came into contact, you were murdered by Jin. Stabbed directly through the heart. I can—”

“Murdered!?” Suddenly, the hollow ache makes sense to Rex; his hand flies to his chest, where a scar-like ridge raises up. Now, he distinctly remembers seeing a sword, Jin's sword, emerging from his chest as if he'd been cutting through fabric. Memories flash through his head, causing him to sink to his knees in horror. Memories of the sword are too vivid and too dull all at once, and Rex is vaguely aware of the fact that he’s saying something. His mind is racing too much to recognize his own words.

Malos waits for Rex’s words to slow and his breathing to steady before he speaks. “Are you done? Because I wasn’t.” All Rex can do is stare in silence, hand still on the scar. “Stop making such a big deal about it. I can bring you back to life by giving you half of my lifeforce, but I’ll need you to promise me something.”

Rex has to force himself to respond. “You’re the Blade we found in the ship, aren’t you?” The man nods. “And you can… bring me back?” Another nod. “…What do you want me to do?”

“Take me to the Elysium in Alrest."

“Elysium? In Alrest?” His head swims with the realization that his dreams could be more than dreams. Now that he’s not quite so overwhelmed by his own death, he looks around Elysium with wonder. He stands back up, taking in the area and committing it to memory.

“At the top of the world tree.” He nods.

Rex considers the idea. There's no reason for him not to trust Malos, and he'd be lying to himself if he said that both reaching Elysium and not being dead were very attractive concepts. "I'll do it. Let's reach Elysium together."

“Good. Now, you’re going to have to touch my core crystal. If you can reach it, I mean.” He grins, and it’s oddly comforting to know that this guy can actually joke around and smile. He doesn’t exactly seem like the type. (He could, however, do without being picked on for his height. It’s not his fault that he hasn’t hit his growth spurt yet.)

Rex nods and reaches up to the purple crystal, with little trouble thanks to Malos leaning down a bit. He recoils when the crystal begins glowing immediately. It’s a bit too similar to the way the sword reacted to his touch, and for a moment, he’s almost expecting to be killed all over again.

The light overtakes him again, growing so bright that it's almost dark. The ache in his chest ebbs away as the light from Malos's core focuses itself on it, and he gets one last glimpse of Elysium before he faints.

~

Nia feels hollow. The deaths of people she deals with after joining the ranks of Torna aren’t exactly a new experience, but before, she was willing to believe that they'd all deserved it for one reason or another. Willing to believe that even if she opposed it, she really had no other choice in the matter, and besides, most humans would never bother to defend her in the opposite situation. It had just seemed foolish to defend those who would leave her behind.

Rex wouldn't have left her behind. The thought runs through her head too many times as she follows the others out of the ship. Nia knows Pyra and her... other half are strong, but she never expected to see her carry that capsule and the man inside on one shoulder and casually drape a corpse over it. She’s hardly even out of breath.

Nia doesn't realize she's being spoken to until Dromarch nudges her hand. "My lady, you're being addressed."

"Sorry, what? I wasn't listening." She tries to sound calm, tries to sound like things are fine, but her voice still sounds more like cold steel than anything.

"Are you still mad?" Pyra asks.

Nia's ears flick back. "Of course I'm mad, Rex didn't..."

"Maybe that was a stupid question. You can deal with your emotions later. Or, perhaps, you could do what I asked and deal with the bystanders.” There’s Pyra’s aggression again. Sometimes, Nia swears that she’s just letting her other half talk for her.

"D-deal with the bystanders? You don't mean..." Architect, her powers are for healing, not slaughtering people who just wanted to make some gold to support themselves with. It's not like she can't, but...

"Nia..." Jin's tone is one of warning as he decides to step into the conversation, but he never finishes his thought. The capsule Pyra carries begins sucking in the light around it at the same moment that something starts materializing near Rex's hand. For a second, Nia has a shred of hope that his hand is twitching, but if it is, it stops when Pyra yells for Sever to move and launches both the capsule and the boy over his head, landing the two a good many feet away.

Nia can't help but be overwhelmed with shock. Surely that can't have been easy, but instead of showing any substantial exertion from flinging what must have been several hundred pounds a reasonable distance away, Pyra stands with her eyes trained on the capsule and the boy. The former is now enshrouded in darkness, which is eating away at everything it touches.

"Jin," Pyra says, holding a hand up to the man. He stops just as his fingers brush the hilt of his sword. "Let her handle this."

Nia watches as Pyra gives way to her other half in a wash of light. Where previously Pyra stood, Mythra is poised to attack, now garbed in pure white instead of Pyra’s fiery red. Pyra rarely removes the cloak Mythra discards, but now that she has, Nia can see the armor plate fastened across her chest, covering a core crystal she’s never seen, only heard of.

Light flashes from near where Rex's corpse landed, and moments later, he's no longer a corpse. "Great," Mythra says. "Now he's gone and made himself the Aegis's Driver, and we'll have to kill him all over again."

Nia's not sure what Mythra means by the Aegis's Driver, but she knows by now that if Jin is standing down and Mythra is taking over for Pyra, there’s not much question about their determination to kill this boy.

As Rex steadies himself on his own two feet, the capsule explodes. It had been melting against the darkness covering it, but apparently that wasn’t enough, as there's a column of darkness reaching into the sky. It arcs downwards, onto an area overlooking the deck. The bystanders have taken this as their cue to escape, unsure what's really going on but knowing they don't want to be a part of it. That’s probably smart. Nia kind of wishes she could run, too.

When the column of darkness clears, the Blade stands, rolling his shoulders casually. Nia wonders if he knows the situation he's in, or that he’s perhaps incurred the wrath of the two scariest people Nia’s ever met.

At some point in the focus on the Blade's frankly dramatic entrance, Rex has fully regained his bearings and now holds a sword that glints black in the rain. "Isn't it pretty underhanded to stab someone in the back?" He looks at least a little bit pissed off, and Nia doesn’t blame him. She’d be pretty mad if she was suddenly stabbed for one small transgression, too.

More importantly, how is Rex alive? Jin’s never failed to kill anyone he intended to before.

"Rex, keep your guard up," the Blade says.

"Got it."

"You... can't be," Mythra growls, glancing between Rex and the Blade. "Malos, you should've just stayed asleep and made things easier for everyone. You're a clever hider, though. We went through a lot to track you down."

Malos looks down on Mythra in more ways than one, thanks to his vantage point. "And here I thought you were merciful enough to let me sleep for a while longer. Unfortunately for you, I'm not interested in helping you just because you found me, Mythra."

She clicks her tongue and saunters toward him. "That is unfortunate. I'd hoped we could make this easy from here on out."

“Sorry, but we’re not really interested in just letting you trample whoever you want without a fight!” Rex is already sprinting into battle as he speaks, and Architect, he's going to get himself killed rushing in like that—

He locks blades with Mythra, and for a moment, they're in a tense stalemate. At least, until Mythra makes a swipe at him. He virtually dances around it, twisting to go after Mythra again.

Nia can't watch this. "Mythra, leave him! He's a kid, you've got more important things to focus on!"

"Don't be foolish, Nia," Mythra responds. "This kid is just going to make everything difficult!" She punctuates her sentence with a well-placed hit that sends Rex staggering backwards a few feet.

He's otherwise unfazed. He simply pushes back, and between the two, there's a constant flurry of blows where neither party is quite landing on the other. Mythra passes off her blade to Sever, who cackles as he unleashes a devastating amount of ether that might actually kill the boy.

When the ether clears, Malos is standing between Rex and Mythra, holding up a protective shield of ether with a glare. "Thanks." Rex preps himself to leap right back into the fray.

"Thank me when we're done with this," Malos says, posture tense and perhaps a bit terrible. Nia's back aches just looking at it; he's somehow leaning forward and back at the same time.

In the time it took Nia to note Malos’s terrible posture, Mythra has successfully sent Rex’s body flying and disarmed him. His sword lands dangerously close to the edge of the ship, and he ends up several feet away. If he survives this, he’s going to have one hell of a collection of wounds to tend to.

He tries to push himself up to go pick up his sword, but not before Mythra reaches him, slashing wildly. Nia cringes when Mythra cuts into his arm enough to draw blood. Where’s Malos? What’s he doing while his Driver is—

There he is. He’s locked in a scuffle with Sever, who is remarkably good at holding his attention. He seems to recognize the danger his Driver is in, but Sever refuses to let him go.

Rex has been forced to back up equally dangerously close to the edge of the ship as his sword, thanks to Mythra’s insistent attacks. She hasn’t even let him get to his feet.

Nia can’t watch this. She’s on Dromarch’s back and fast approaching Mythra and Rex before she quite registers it herself. Dromarch sends a burst of ether at Mythra, enough to distract her and force her to back away from the boy.

They take the opening, placing themselves between Mythra and Rex. Dromarch growls wordlessly, leaving the talking to Nia. “Leave him, Mythra. You’re tryin’ to kill an innocent kid!”

“Kill him? No, Nia, I’m helping him,” Mythra says. “The longer this boy lives as the Aegis’s Driver, the more he’s going to wish you’d have let me kill him, I guarantee you that much. I’m just trying to be merciful.”

“Merciful?” She has the audacity to claim mercy in a situation like this? “You can’t be serious. What’s merciful about murdering a kid?”

“He’s young, but he can fight back. If he were just a kid, then sure, I’d let him live.”

“Then let him live.” This is the most conviction she’s spoken with in what feels like years. “Can’t you see that you don’t need to kill him?”

“Nia, I’m starting to get tired of all of your mindless backtalk,” Mythra says. She moves at a speed that rivals Jin’s, and there’s no time to respond before the flat side of her sword is pressed into Nia’s shoulder as a warning. “You don’t even have the first clue who you’re defending.” With a single swipe of the sword, Nia’s sent flying off the ship. Rex’s sword joins her in her descent, and she barely manages to close her fingers around it as she falls.

The Cloud Sea races towards her. She never did like the way it feels to swim in it, but it seems like she’s got no other choice.

Or not, she thinks when her body lurches to a stop thanks to the sudden grip on her arm. She cries out at the immediate effects: every joint in her arm, from her wrist to shoulder, blossoms with pain. Her wrist, especially, protests with a sickening noise. It’s the only thing keeping Rex from dropping her, but she’d be a bit more grateful if it didn’t almost definitely break from the stress of the job.

“Rex, you—” She hisses when she slips a little bit. Every shift, breath, and movement only seems to worsen the pain.

“Hold on, Nia, I’ve got you,” he says.

She tries to grab his wrist, but the movement of her fingers immediately floods her vision with tears. “I-I can’t grab on. My wrist is—” She never finishes her sentence. The grappling hook that hold Rex and Nia stutters, and the pain is so unbearable that she blacks out a little bit. With horror, her vision clears to show her the Monoceros as it pulls up to the side of the ship, guns at the ready. Can’t say I had a nice run.

She can hardly comprehend what’s happening anymore. Maybe it’s not worth it to hold on to her consciousness and watch the massacre that’s about to unfold. In fact, when the guns move their aim to target them, specifically, she's convinced of this. If Rex can get them out of this alive, then he can do it without her help, anyway. She lets go of her last shred of consciousness.

~

Malos awakes with a groan. Azurda had some damn good timing, swooping in when he did. If not for them, he’s not sure he’d be waking up at all. The first thing he notices is that everything is very green. The next noteworthy thing is the Gormotti sitting nearby, pulling the top of her jumpsuit off to reveal a dark undershirt and one seriously fucked up arm.

She appears to be the girl who stepped in during his and Rex’s fight against Mythra earlier. But didn’t she have a Blade with her…? The Blade is nowhere in sight, leaving only the girl. Come to think of it, he should probably say something before she finishes undressing herself.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she says when he pushes himself up and stretches. “Malos, right?”

“Yeah. You’re…” It's only now he realizes he never got her name. Not like there was time, anyhow.

“Nia. Can I ask what happened after I passed out? I wasn't expecting to wake up at all." She runs some pond water over her arm, hissing when it seeps into several small cuts. He assumes they're from the fall, although he’s surprised that they’re not worse. They hardly count as scratches. She appears to be washing off the blood, but she should probably be more worried about what might be in that water.

“After Rex grabbed you, Azurda flew in and got us out of that situation. He got hurt pretty bad by that ship that showed up. Barely made it here before crash landing. Not sure where he landed, though, or Rex for that matter.” There’s no sign of them, except for some messed up trees where he figures Azurda must have had a rough landing.

“With any luck, he’s with Dromarch. Mythra said Rex was your Driver now, can’t you sense him? Dromarch’s always been able to find me.”

Right. Rex is his Driver now. He focuses, and can indeed sense the general direction his Driver is in. It's been a while since he’s had a Driver to be separated from, let alone had a need to track him down. “They’re moving. Before you try to go looking for your Blade, were you wanting to give that arm any more attention? Not sure what happened to it, but that doesn’t look great.”

“When Rex grabbed me. Arms weren’t really meant to be the only thing between you and drowning in the Cloud Sea, especially not that fast.” She finishes tying off the top part of her jumpsuit. “It’s just dislocated a bit, and I think bruised from the landing. The cuts won't be an issue. If I can find Dromarch I can heal myself, so there's not much need to worry about it.”

A ‘bit’ might be something of an understatement in reference to her dislocation. Malos is no expert, but he’s pretty sure that's her bones creating strange lumps, and she’s messed up at every part of the arm. The wrist is completely purple, and bruises crawl from her wrist to under her tank top.

She pulls off her glove with a wince. Father, she can hardly even do that without looking like she’s about to cry. “Then let’s find your Blade sooner rather than later. Come on.”

“I can stay here while you look,” she says. Is she stupid? Like hell he’s leaving some tiny girl in an unknown forest with an arm she can hardly move and no way to defend herself.

“Did I make it seem like it was an option? Come on, Nia, you can’t seriously think you can fend for yourself out here.” She’s lucky they haven’t been attacked by something already.

"I'm not entirely defenseless, you know." She gestures to the row of small knives attached to her belt. He's not impressed.

"You're going to defend yourself with one arm and a set of filet knives?" Seriously, what is she thinking? She's either really stupid, or she’s got some reason to keep from coming with him. If it's the latter, well, he'll figure it out soon enough.

She finally relents when she realizes that there's nothing she can say to change his mind. "Alright, so which way are we going, then?"

He leads the way to a bridge, making a point to avoid any monsters more for Nia’s sake than his own. They're forced to stop at the giant tree that lays across the bridge, obstructing any hopes of moving forward. Rex is just on the other side of it, and an unfamiliar voice is with him. He assumes it’s Nia’s Blade, but he doesn’t bother asking.

“…We could try to climb it?” Nia suggests. "I don't see any way around it, and if they climbed over we'd just have to go back across to get out of here."

“Can you even move your arm?” She doesn't respond. He shrugs his shoulders, feeling his power rush to life in his fingertips. A tree is nothing he can't handle. “Everyone stand back a second.” He raises his voice so hopefully the two standing on the other side can hear him.

“What are you going to do, throw it?” She sounds like she’s joking, but he gets the feeling that she thinks he would actually be able to throw the thing. His solution is a bit more, say, destructive.

“Just stand clear. You don't want to know what happens if someone gets caught in this.” His tone is enough to convince her. She takes several steps back, and he immediately pulls his fist back and punches the tree. Nia watches in awe as his power covers washes over it and the wood crumbles away. Moments later, the tree trunk has been reduced to mere splinters that fall into the Cloud Sea below.

“Malos! Nia! Good to see you! What, er, what happened to the tree just now…?” Rex says when the dust clears.

“Don’t worry about it,” Malos says. “It’s an extension of my powers.”

“Right.” Rex’s eyes drift to Nia’s arm, and he jumps slightly at the sight. “Nia, is your arm okay? That doesn’t look great.”

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Can't really do much with it right now, but it'll be healed up soon enough. Just need to get somewhere safe, pop some stuff back into place, and wait it out."

"Don't suppose you know how we'd go about getting out of here? Dromarch says you used to live here, so..."

Nia frowns. "We're pretty close to Gormott's capital," she says. She climbs onto Dromarch's back without a word between either of them. "If we stay here long enough, we'll be swallowed up by the Cloud Sea. I can take you to Torigoth, if you'll follow me."

"My lady, please consider resting first. Your arm..." Dromarch does his best to look up at her. At least her Blade has sense.

"Say, what happened to that big guy that saved us, by the way?" Nia appears unwilling to listen to reason.

"Are you talking about me?" A familiar voice comes from Rex's helmet, and moments later a tiny head pops out.

"Azurda, what...?" That can't seriously be Azurda.

"Good to see you again, Malos," the titan says. "Have you been keeping well?"

"What happened to you?" He cuts straight to the chase; small talk can wait for when they have more information.

"Patience is a virtue, Malos," he says. “We can discuss everything once we’ve found somewhere to rest. After all, there’s much more to discuss than my secrets to looking young.”

Patience his ass, clearly something has gone wrong or Azurda wouldn’t look like an actual infantile titan. Waiting only draws out the inevitable.

“So then, we start walking towards the capital, you said Torigoth? And once it gets dark, we’ll rest for the night,” Rex says. “When we stop to rest, we can get everyone up to speed on, well, everything that’s happened since yesterday. Although, Nia, are you sure you’re okay to keep going?”

Malos can see why he asks—it looks better than when he last saw it, but there’s an uncomfortable amount of swelling and the skin is still bruised where it isn’t starkly pale. He gets the impression that Nia doesn’t have her arms in the sun very often. The thought crosses his mind that the scrapes from earlier appear to be totally gone now. Maybe he’s still a bit off from five hundred years of rest, but honestly, he doubts even that’s enough to start hallucinating.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says. She shifts uncomfortably, grabbing on to part of Dromarch’s mane and nodding to him. He walks past Rex and sits patiently. “Let’s go, it’s already starting to get dark and we want to find a good place to stop sooner rather than later.” Couldn’t she not move it only a few minutes ago? Could she even move her fingers earlier?

He can worry about Nia’s poorly hidden secrets later. For now, the others have started off into the woods, so he follows them closely and keeps an eye out for anything dangerous.

Nia stops at the head of a slope, which ends abruptly in what appears to be the trunk of a tree. Honestly, she’s lucky she’s got Rex and Malos with her. She’s somehow managed to catch the attention of fifteen separate creatures since leaving the bridge, and she’d be dead with the state her arm is in.

“We’re going to have to climb up here to make it to the upper level,” she says, and Malos gives her a look that he likes to think clearly reads what the hell are you thinking you can’t climb that. If she notices, she chooses to ignore it in favor of burying her hands in Dromarch’s mane even tighter. It’s easily a thirty foot climb, and it’s not like someone can carry her up while climbing at the same time. “It’s getting dark, so we can set up camp at the halfway point.”

He studies the tree she’s talking about. There is a spot large enough for the five of them to camp for the night that appears to be mostly devoid of anything that might be willing to attack them when they settle down, but it’s still halfway up the tree.

At least Rex is apparently capable of seeing reason. “Nia, are you sure you—"

“Dromarch?” Nia looks at him questioningly, ignoring all the reasonable members of this band of travelers in favor of some form of largely unspoken communication with her Blade.

He bows his head briefly. “Are you ready, my lady?” She makes an affirmative noise, and he latches onto the side of the tree with his claws. In what must be only a few minutes, he climbs to the middle ledge with Nia clinging to his back and pulls himself up as the three on the ground simply stare at them in something like shock.

This girl is somehow both stupider and smarter than I gave her credit for.

Nia and Dromarch look over the ledge moments later. “Well, are you coming or not? We’ve not got all night, and the three of you have some explaining to do once we get the fire going.”

Malos shares a look with Rex, who’s still too shocked at Nia’s problem solving to speak. “Come on,” Malos says, walking to the side of the tree and studying it for a good spot to start climbing. “The sooner we start climbing this thing, the sooner we can all get some answers.”

~

The fire crackles as Rex and Malos finish their part on updating everyone. Rex is glad that it’s dark now, even if it means they have to camp in a forest instead of someplace safer. Now that there’s less light and it’s colder, it’s harder to see Nia’s messed up arm. He suppresses a shudder at the thought of it, the way her skin glared with angry, sprawling bruises. He almost wants to apologize to her; after all, she got those when he grabbed her, didn’t she?

They’d hunted down a few smaller creatures for food, and with Dromarch’s help, they’d identified some wild plants that were safe to eat and cook over the fire. Dromarch had been the most helpful in getting enough food for everyone, while Nia was insistent on screening every piece of wood Rex or Malos collected before adding it to the pile of firewood. She’d claimed that certain leaves could kill them if they burnt them and inhaled the smoke in any capacity. (Rex didn’t really believe her claim, but it was better to be safe than sorry.)

Malos leans back on his elbows, shifting to make himself comfortable. “I should ask. How much do you actually know about me, Rex?” he asks.

Rex doesn’t quite understand the question. “What do you mean? We just met yesterday.” Was he supposed to have heard of Malos before?

Gramps flutters up and sits on Rex’s shoulder. “Rex doesn’t know much about the events of the Aegis War, if that’s your concern. In fact, most stories about the Aegis are more obscure among non-Drivers.”

“The Aegis War? That big war 500 years ago?” Rex tilts his head. He doesn’t much like the thought of war. Too many innocent people dying for it not to leave a bad taste in his mouth. “Can’t say I know much about it, no.”

Malos sighs, although Rex can’t fathom why. Did he say something wrong?

“Five hundred years ago, when Mythra set out to destroy Alrest, a man named Addam awakened Malos to stop her,” Gramps says. “Unfortunately, there were many casualties, and three continents were destroyed in the heat of battle. Addam and his allies barely managed to quell Mythra’s fury.”

“After everything quieted, I talked with Addam and decided the best way to keep her from achieving her goals was to keep her from getting to me,” Malos says. “Her core’s not whole, and she can’t restore it by herself. There’s maybe two ways to fix it, and both of them require my cooperation to pull off.”

Rex grimaces. “So, if I hadn’t woken you up…” Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking about the fact that there would be no danger if not, inadvertently, for him.

“I believe it was for the better that you were there, Rex,” Dromarch says, lifting his head only barely to speak so as not to disturb Nia’s position. She’d asked Malos to help her pop the displaced joints back into place earlier, but it doesn’t seem to have helped much, if the way she winces every time her arm shifts is a good indicator. “Without your presence, my lady and I would likely still be among their ranks, and they’d have Malos to achieve their goals with.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Rex smiles. “Thanks. By the way, Nia, what happened to Pyra? I didn’t see her on the ship after I…” The thought of his own death sends chills down his spine in the worst way. He doesn’t want to finish his sentence.

“Who the hell is Pyra?” Malos raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, right, you wouldn’t know much, Rex,” she says. “Pyra’s like… Mythra’s weakened form, I think. They never told me much, but Mythra never stays like that for long before going back to just being Pyra. I’ve seen her twice before, and only because she was in a hurry. Honestly, it’s a miracle any of us managed to survive her.”

“So she’s like… two girls in a single body? How does that even work?”

“It’s more likely that Pyra is an extension of Mythra’s powers,” Gramps says.

“Can’t imagine she wouldn’t try something like that to hide, since the whole world must have known what Mythra looked like after everything that happened. I could probably pull that off, if I needed to and had the time to figure it out.”

“If everything we needed to talk about has been covered, might I suggest we get some rest?” Gramps says. Rex can’t help but agree. His body aches from the fight and the climb, and it’ll take him quite some time to get comfortable with the bruises he incurred in the heat of battle.

“Yeah. I’m exhausted,” Rex says. Nia and Dromarch agree as well, although Malos seems a bit more reluctant to head to sleep.

“Something wrong?” Rex asks him.

Malos only shakes his head. “I’ve been asleep for 500 years, I’m just not that tired,” he explains when Rex only stares at him incredulously. “You should rest, I’ll keep watch.”

It’s enough to satisfy Rex, who nods and shifts himself to find a comfortable spot on the ground. It’s difficult, with rocks pressing into tender spots no matter how he lays, but eventually, the fatigue overpowers the discomfort. He falls into a light, fitful sleep.

~

Rex wakes up feeling no more rested than he had before. As he stretches in the sunlight, he tries to shake off the nightmares of a volff-like man with a sword watching him. Every muscle in his body complains in protest. He envies Nia, who’s coming to and pushing herself up from where she laid snuggled up to Dromarch all night. She must have had no problems getting comfortable.

Nia yawns with her whole body, stretching both arms and both legs in tandem with her elongated breath. “Mornin’,” she says at the tail end of her yawn, rolling her neck lazily. She speaks quietly, noting that Malos, at some point, had apparently gone to sleep. Every so often, he shifts or twitches, never quite settling peacefully.

“How’s your arm?” Rex asks. He pulls the outer parts of his salvager suit on, having removed them for better comfort over the night.

She grins, “Much better.” To make her point, she extends the arm in question. Rex immediately cringes at the thought, but she doesn’t even wince at the movement.

After Malos helped her last night, there’s no more weird bumps where bone presses against skin and shouldn’t. What bruises haven’t already faded appear to vanish before his eyes, but surely that’s just a trick of the light, with the way the sunlight dances through the trees.

“I’ve always been a fast healer,” she explains as Malos begins to stir. Rex feels a pang of guilt for waking him—maybe they should have walked a little further away so he could sleep longer.

It’s too late for maybes, though. Malos pushes himself to his feet, glare etched on his face but aimed at no one in particular.

“Sorry, Malos. We didn’t wake you up, did we?” Rex asks. Malos looks at him in silence for a moment that stretches into what feels like a year.

“No, I was awake,” he says finally. “We should get moving soon anyway.”

“Did you… did you sleep okay?”

“Didn’t,” Malos grunts.

“Oh,” he says. “I’m sorry to hear that. If it helps, I didn’t sleep great either.” There’s several moments of painful silence as Malos considers Rex’s attempts at consoling him, then he merely nods at him in acknowledgement.

“Let’s get moving.”

“Okay,” Nia says. “Everyone ready to go?” She’s leaned against the tree trunk they’ve got to climb to make it out of the lower level, having made the smart decision to take Dromarch and avoid the awkward conversation Rex is trying to have. Five years of working, and he can salvage everything but a conversation, apparently.

When the others are ready, she starts climbing the tree with scary precision, hardly bothered by anything like the problems Rex had trying to climb the other tree last night. Malos doesn’t follow Rex when he prepares himself for the climb.

“Is everything alright, Malos?” He asks, stopping at the base of the tree. Malos doesn’t respond, only watches Nia climb like she’s unbothered by the exertion. “Malos?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Come on, let’s get moving.” He brushes past Rex, beginning the climb without another word. Rex sighs and turns his attention back to the tree, not thrilled about the climb he faces.

Everyone else makes it to the top with a minimum of slips or struggles. Not for the first time, Rex is grateful for his gloves, especially now that he knows what it feels like to lose all strength past his elbow and barely be able to hold on. If not for the spikes in his boots, he might have broken a leg. Malos has to pull him up at the top, and Rex nearly collapses once he gets on solid ground.

Malos scoffs. “We’re going to have to work on your climbing strength if we’re going to make it to Elysium.”

“Don’t make fun of me, it’s not like there’s a lot of climbing involved with salvaging!” It’s true; the Cloud Sea isn’t exactly resistant to swimming through, and he had a crane to haul things up from its bed. The most strength required is in stuff like prying boxes open and carrying things between the port and central exchange. Climbing, however, is a full-body exercise, and not one he’s ever thought to train for.

He frowns. Sure, he didn’t have any reason to really be prepared for this kind of exertion, but it still stings that he seems to be the only one affected by the climb. Nia waits at an overlook at the end of the path, idly patting Dromarch’s head, but even from here, Rex can see that she’s perfectly fine, if not slightly out of breath.

After several minutes of sitting on the ground and trying to catch his breath, Rex walks to the overlook, where Malos has joined Nia in waiting for Rex.

The sight of the sprawling, verdant plains is enough to take Rex’s breath away again. He’d thought the forest had been lush, but the plains immediately outshine it. In the distance, he can see a vibrant-looking town.

“That’s Torigoth,” Nia said, nodding to it. “Been a while since I’ve been back here.”

“Is that where you’re from?” Rex asks. Nia chooses not to answer.

“If you’re ready to go, then I’ll take you there. After that, I’m afraid you’re on your own.”

Rex glances at her. “You’re gonna leave us?”

“Well, yeah, thought it was pretty obvious why I can’t stick around.”

“Apparently not,” Malos says. ‘Apparently not’ is right—he can’t see any reason for them not to stick together. Strength in numbers is important, after all, but he can’t force Nia to do anything.

“Can’t make you stay if you don’t want to, but you can travel with us, you know.” Rex leans against the fence, legs still shaking from the climb.

Nia doesn’t respond. Instead, Dromarch breaks the silence. “My lady, if everyone is able, we should get going to avoid the rain.” He’s right that it looks like it’s going to rain; angry clouds stretch across the far horizon and threaten bad weather at any moment.

“Let’s get going, then,” she says, straightening and following the slope downwards. “We’ll want to keep moving once we reach the plains, you don’t want to know what happens to people who aren’t careful out there.”

Something in the way she says it convinces Rex that his best option is to just accept her words and follow her. She has a guarded look about her, one he’s not sure comes from the thought of whatever monster’s out there. It takes all his effort not to trip over his own feet thanks to his shaky legs, anyhow, so he focuses on that instead of prying further into something Nia’s clearly unwilling to talk about.

For all her confidence in navigation, Nia seems keen on taking the most winding route possible to Torigoth. Or rather, she’d been making a straight path for the city, then suddenly decided to change directions like she’d seen something.

“Couldn’t we just walk straight there?” Malos asks impatiently when she ducks around another giant tree and leads them underneath a rather impressive tree root.

“Trust me, I’m not leading you three around just to waste time. That bird you saw flying around back there could kill any of us just as easily as you breathe.” True, Rex had seen a bird, but her claims seem a bit exaggerated. “More importantly, keep an eye out for—”

“My lady!” Dromarch says suddenly, ears flicking. Hers flick too moments later, and her eyes go wide. She mounts Dromarch without a second thought.

“We need to run.” The gravitas to her tone is all Rex needs to prepare himself to bolt. Whatever they’d heard, it’s enough to instill fear in Nia. Dromarch leads them along the side of the cliff with searching eyes. “Come on, where is the—”

Rex can’t help but ask about the situation. “Nia, not to distract here, but what exactly are we running from?” Whatever it is, it’s nowhere in sight, at least not yet.

She hisses, now frantically looking for something on the wall. “Do you see a little cave anywhere nearby? I swear there used to be one here. We need to hide there immediately. There’s no way you can outrun him.”

“Clearly there’s danger,” Malos says, “wouldn’t it be better for you to actually tell us who “he” is?”

“Rotbart,” she says.

“Rotbart?” Rex repeats. Just when he thinks Nia might be a little bit paranoid, he notices the shadow at the other end of the small valley. Obscuring the light is the largest gogol Rex has ever seen, and not by any small margin. Rotbart is easily the size Gramps used to be or larger, and his hand large enough to crush all of them in a single fist.

“Come on! I can’t find the cave, we have to make a run for it now.”

Rex and Malos both nod.

“Hold on, Gramps,” Rex says, bolting moments after Dromarch and Malos do. He severely regrets not asking to take more time to let his legs rest. Don’t think, just follow Nia and Dromarch. Run as fast as your legs can handle.

Instinct isn’t enough to protect him when he hears the padding of monstrous feet chasing him. No, no, don’t come this way—

The adrenaline fueling Rex spikes when he feels his ankle twist and slip out from underneath him and he’s sent crashing to the ground. He barely manages to let out a shout as his face hits the ground, and Malos turns to look at him.

“Hold on, Rex!” he says. Hold on for what?

Rotbart is getting closer, closer, and Malos must not be thinking clearly, because he runs straight towards Rex. What is he doing? They’re both going to die!

Malos doesn’t try to help Rex up like he expects. Instead, a dark power sparks to life in his hand and he leaps over Rex. Rex turns to watch in horror as Malos meets Rotbart’s hand with a punch that might have cracked a jawbone had it connected with a human’s face instead. “Malos!”

Rotbart lets out a pained shriek when Malos’s fist connects with him and physically recoils. Rex’s blood runs cold as he watches the power spread from Malos’s fist and literally consume the lower half of Rotbart’s arm. Anything the darkness touches that isn’t Malos is disintegrating before his eyes, and Rotbart reaches for the disintegrating arm with his other hand, only for that arm to begin disintegrating too once it touches the darkness.

Doesn’t he know he’s making it worse by grabbing at his face like that? Architect, the way he’s screaming—

Oh Architect, he grabbed at his face, he’s getting louder—silence falls over him after a few moments, followed by the thunderous thud of what’s left of his body. The cries echo in Rex’s head long after the thud. Malos turns to him and offers him a hand up, but he can only stare at Rotbart’s half-eaten corpse with tears threatening to spill over.

So this is the power of an Aegis.

Chapter Text

Rex can’t tear his eyes away from Malos’s back once he finally collects himself enough to continue to Torigoth. Even the thought of eye contact is impossible, and not just because of their height difference.

He could have tried to move past Malos’s involvement in the war. After all, he’d been trying to help. Countless people dead, but more would be if not for him. But Rotbart…

He’s grateful for Malos saving his life (twice now), and he won’t forget it, not with the core crystal thrumming with energy in his chest, but the power he used was… gruesome. Is that what he’d done to the tree before? How many people have died like that, watching their bodies disintegrate before their eyes, powerless to stop it? How many living things has he used it on? How is—

“—your ankle?” Malos’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

He stumbles in his surprise. “Sorry, what was that? I was thinking.” He quietly wishes for the conversation to be short. The more he talks to Malos, the more he gets stuck on Rotbart. Were he not Malos’s Driver, would he have run from him? Would he be more scared than he is now?

“You twisted your ankle when you fell, didn’t you?” He nods to Rex’s foot.

Come to think of it, he had, but he doesn’t remember mentioning it. Malos must be pretty observant to notice something like that. “Yeah. I’m fine. We’re almost to Torigoth, anyhow. By the way, Gramps, are you alright?” He’d be surprised if Gramps hadn’t gotten hurt somehow, and any topic that took the focus off him was one Rex would bring attention to right now.

"I'm alright. Thank you for your concern." Come on, Gramps, you were supposed to have more to say. Now he's got to continue the conversation somehow.

"Yeah, of course," he says. Mercifully, Malos's attention leaves him.

Gramps, however, continues to talk. "Are you sure you're alright? You appear to have quite the tangle of thoughts."

He has to ask. "Do you think Malos has used that power on people?"

“That’s not a question I can answer. You’d have to ask him yourself,” Gramps says. He’s right, but Rex was hoping for more reassurance.

“I do not think, however, that Malos would have done so if he didn’t feel it was necessary to.”

The answer only turns his stomach. “That doesn’t make it right. How do you think it felt, for Rotbart to…”

“He must have been in a lot of pain, by the way it sounded.”

Rex falls silent. He doesn't like the sound of that.

"He did save your life, Rex," he continues gently. "You should probably thank him."

"I know! It's just... Can we stop talking about this?" He's certain Malos can hear them, and he's not wanting to have that conversation yet. Not before he can process his thoughts. Not that he has any idea how long that'll take him.

They come to a stop at the gate to Torigoth. Nia climbs off Dromarch's back and turns to the others, stretching languidly. "Alright. I can take you to the inn, and then it's goodbye from there.”

Rex considers trying once again to change her mind, but who’s he to force her into something she clearly doesn’t want?

He keeps his mouth shut and follows her into town. Torigoth bustles with people. It reminds Rex of Goldmouth, how everyone had somewhere to be or something to do, only it’s somehow both more relaxed and more rigid than Goldmouth. He can’t remember the last time he saw so many soldiers in such a short span of time.

“What’s with all the soldiers?” he finds himself asking.

“Gormott’s a province of the Ardainian empire,” Nia answers. “If I had to guess, they’re probably setting up for Driver recruitment. Probably running out of potentials to recruit from their own ranks. Come on, no sense staying to watch. We can avoid the crowds this way.”

She weaves her way through the outskirts of the crowd. Thanks to Malos and Dromarch, who are naturally intimidating, people are quick to make room for them to get through.

Nia looks around restlessly as she leads them to a backstreet—does she not like crowds or something? Come to think of it, she had been avoiding drinking with most of the crew back on the Maelstrom, maybe that’s why?

“Nia, are you sure about going off on your own?” Malos asks. “Not sure that’s the greatest idea for you.”

Huh. Never expected him to be the one trying to keep her on board.

She snorts. “What, you don’t think Dromarch and I can handle ourselves?”

“To be frank, you haven’t convinced me. You’d need a bit more than climbing trees to survive on your own you know, especially since you seem keen to avoid people.”

She crosses her arms across her chest. “That’s not—"

“Stop right there!” A voice cuts through Nia’s indignant response. She freezes. Rex immediately looks around. Other than the three soldiers at the other end of the street, there’s no one around that he could be talking to.

“Are you talking to us?” He tilts his head curiously.

Nia grabs his arm. “Are you okay to run?”

“What? Why would we—”

“Don’t ask questions,” she hisses. “There’s no time for that. They’re after me—this is what I was talking about when I said I can’t stay with you guys.”

“After you? Nia, what’s going on?”

“Stop talking! Nobody moves!” The soldier in the center approaches, and Rex instinctively backs away. A turn of his head lets him see another several soldiers approached, guns at the ready. It’s just one thing after another today, isn’t it?

“That fugitive in your company is a member of the terrorist group Torna,” he continues. “Gormotti driver, white beast-form Blade.” It’s as if he’s checking items off a list as he inspects their little group. What does he mean, “terrorist”? Nia saved his life, she’s not some murderer.

“Rex, Dromarch and I are going to make our move. If you want to run, do it when we attack.” Nia hisses her plan just loudly enough for him to hear.

“We’re not gonna run, you know,” he says, shifting into a battle stance.

“And you, boy.” It’s really hard to focus on anything this soldier is saying when he’s got a gun pointed at Rex, but somehow he manages to pay attention. “What’s your Driver registration number?”

“My what?” What the hell is he talking about, registration number?

“New Drivers need to register with Indol by law. We’ll see what the consul has to say about an unregistered Driver running around.”

Nia slowly shifts into a battle stance, hands on her weapons in preparation. “Well, guess now you don’t have a choice. On my count, be ready to attack.”

“Right.” For all his bravado, Rex isn’t sure how this is going to go. He’s not thrilled at the thought of battling alongside Malos. What if he uses that power on someone else?

“No use resisting,” one of the soldiers taunts. “We have you outnumbered.”

Malos laughs at that. Does he realize the situation? “I’ve taken on a lot worse than a few imperial soldiers. Try us.”

“Malos, don’t taunt them,” Rex scolds. He’s trying not to get into an unnecessary fight, thank you very much.

“Not sorry. Worst comes to worst, I can always—”

“Don’t.” Rex cuts him off before he can even think about it, horror seeping into his voice. It’s not hard to pick up that Malos is talking about using that power again.

“Now!” Nia says. Rex draws his sword, going for the nearest soldier, but he doesn’t feel the rush of ether that he’d been getting used to when battling alongside Malos. A quick glance shows that Malos is trying, but the link isn’t reaching him for some reason.

“Malos, what’s going on?” Rex asks as he slides past a soldier’s attempts to grab him. He makes a swipe, but the sword is still dormant.

“Why are you asking me? It’s stopping at you.” Even without ether, the sword is still a sword, right?

“Why would it stop at me?” It’s not like he’s trying to stop it from forming, in fact, it would be really helpful to have right about now. The hit he lands on a soldier does almost nothing, only sending the man stumbling backwards.

“I was afraid of this,” Gramps says, gripping the helmet to avoid falling out. “Rex, how are you feeling about Malos after seeing him kill Rotbart?”

What’s that got to do with anything? He’s already talked to Gramps about this. “What do you mean?”

“If you’re afraid of Malos’s power, you may be rejecting it without realizing. The affinity link between Driver and Blade relies on your relationship to one another. If you can’t trust your Blade, he won’t be able to transfer ether to you.”

Malos effortlessly pushes a soldier to the side, swooping in to take care of one who’s going for Rex. “We can talk about this later. Since we can’t link, we’ll have to improvise. How are you with that sword?”

“I can handle this without ether, if that’s what you’re asking.” As if to prove a point, he lands a well-placed blow on a soldier’s arm, sending the man in question stumbling backwards.

“Good,” Malos says. “Then I expect you to handle it.”

“As if you had to tell me.” As long as it stays like this and no one else shows up, there’s no way they won’t be able to deal with these guys.

Like they’ve been cursed, a wall of blue flames erupts around them, stemming from the opening of the alleyway. Walking towards them is a woman in a form-fitting purple dress. As she gets closer, it becomes evident that she's a Blade—her purple hair is tinged with the same blue flames that entrap them. At her side, she carries a pair of segmented swords.

She doesn’t need to open her eyes to look right through them as she comes to a stop at the sight of Rex. Or, now that he thinks about it, it’s more probable that she’s looking at Malos, who stands behind him and doesn’t seem even slightly intimidated by the fact that their only hopes of an easy escape are currently being burnt by this Blade.

“Keep your guards up,” Dromarch says. “That’s Brighid, the Jewel of Mor Ardain. She’s known as the most powerful Blade in the empire.”

“Brighid!” Malos holds his hands up in an almost welcoming manner. “I take it you don’t remember me?” Remember him? Have they met before?

Brighid ignores his question. “Interesting. I’d heard that there was a commotion with some Drivers, but I wasn’t expecting to find the Aegis among them.”

“We’re just passing through,” Malos says. “Really, all this bravado is getting annoying.”

“I’d have expected you to be used to this kind of treatment by now,” she says.

“If she’s a Blade, where’s her Driver?” Rex keeps his eyes locked on Brighid.

“My Driver is otherwise engaged at present. I will handle you alone.”

“She’s not got a Driver? How can she…” She shouldn’t be able to battle them without a Driver, right? Then again, Malos could handle everything without him, and Dromarch had helped him in fending off creatures while looking for Nia and Malos in the forest, but even so…

One of the soldiers laughs. “The Jewel of Mor Ardain doesn’t need a Driver to crush the lot of you!”

“Captain Padraig. We are to take them alive.” Brighid draws her sword. Can she seriously fight in a dress like that? It can’t be easy for her to move around in, especially when she’s in heels like that.

Then again, he supposes you don’t need much movement when you can create fire. He’s got to commend her control, really, the flames don’t seem to be burning any of the wooden architecture.

“Roger, Lady Brighid!” One soldier—Captain Padraig, apparently, nods to two soldiers, who salute and run off. Are they bringing reinforcements?

For a brief moment, Rex’s sword sputters to life. Has Malos been devoting energy to trying to form the link even knowing that Rex is the problem?

He shakes off the thought and prepares himself as Brighid approaches with swords at the ready. She’s made her intent clear, and like hell if he’s going down without a fight and letting anyone get to Malos, Nia, or Dromarch. Malos may be able to handle almost anything on his own, but that doesn’t mean he should have to.

Brighid attacks mercilessly, with quick movements and blazing fire that seems fake until she cracks a sword into a whip and it leaves a nasty burn on his arm. He retaliates, striking the moment even a bit of ether manages to seep its way through the weak link he holds with Malos.

“Rex,” Nia says when they end up back to back, “can you and Malos keep focus on her? Fire’s not a good matchup for me an’ Dromarch.”

He’s not sure, honestly. He knows for fact that Malos could take out Brighid with no issue, after seeing what he’s capable of, but…

“You can’t beat her without ether,” Malos says. He’s still doing what he can to maintain any semblance of a link, but he’s forced to handle some of the soldiers with his fists so Rex can focus on Brighid. “There’s a reason they say she’s the strongest in Mor Ardain.”

“In the past?” Right, he’s at least five hundred years old. He dares to look over his shoulder at Malos mid-battle to speak. The moment he does, a flame licks at his cheek, dangerously close to his eye.

“Eyes on your opponent,” Malos chastises immediately. He hadn’t even been looking, how had he known— “I can get us out of here, but I’ll be using that power—”

“No!” Rex says, horrified. “We’ll find some other way. Just… not like that.”

“I get that you’re a good kid or whatever,” Malos says, “but we don’t have any other option here. Stop wasting time or you’ll get yourself killed. There’s only so many times I can save your ass.”

Maybe he’s being ridiculous. Malos could get them out of this easily. “I know, just give me a chance to think of something!” He swings his sword in a wide arc, scanning the arena Brighid’s created with her flames in hopes of finding an opening. The only area she’s left without a wall of fire to block their escape is the city wall, which doesn’t look very climbable if you don’t have claws.

Before Rex can find a solution to this predicament, Malos shouts and shoves him. He hits the ground shoulder-first. He’s ready to say a few choice things to Malos, but then he sees Nia get entangled by some strange net, which wraps her up with enough force that she hits the ground.

Moments later, a second net hits its mark, wrapping Dromarch up just as efficiently as Nia is. Before Rex can find the source of the nets, which appear to pulse with some unknown light, a nearby pipe just above Brighid suddenly explodes, drenching her with water.

For a second, he thinks she’s hissing, but when the flames surrounding them fizzle out, he realizes that he’s hearing the steam from the water. She looks around for the source, but it’s not clear if there even was one.

Nia, however, is actually hissing. Whatever the net is, it doesn’t give to any amount of struggling, and Dromarch’s attempts to use arts fizzle out much like the fire has.

“Rex, you and Malos need to run,” Nia says. “I don’t care about your sensibilities or whatever, leave Dromarch and me behind! We’ll make it out somehow.”

Dromarch grunts as he fights against the net. “Whatever these are, they appear to be absorbing ether between me and my lady.”

“I can’t just leave you behind!” Rex says, placing himself between them and Brighid. Now that he has a free moment to look, he can see the two soldiers from earlier, each holding a launcher of some kind. Rex assumes they used the launchers to fire the nets at Nia and Dromarch.

One cackles. “How are you finding those ether nets? Try resisting when you can’t get any ether flow to your weapons.”

“Listen, Rex, we need to get out of here,” Malos says. “I don’t say this, ever, but we can’t fight her like this. We can come back for Nia and Dromarch, but no one can help us if we get captured.”

He hates to admit it, but there really is no help for them if they manage to get Malos caught up in one of those nets. With a deep breath, he relents.

“We’ll be back for you, okay?”

“Not counting on it,” Nia says as Rex and Malos run past them.

They follow the dirt path into a wooden area, past an open door where a Nopon begs their attention. “Friends come in here! Tora help you escape!”

Rex glances at Malos, who nods. The Nopon swings the door shut behind him and locks it just in time.

They listen for several moments as the thudding of feet echoes through the corridor. Rex holds his breath as he waits for silence. The moment it comes, the Nopon releases his own breath and speaks. “Friends come this way. This back door to house of Tora!”

They’re in too deep now to have another option, so Rex and Malos follow him down the hallway. At the end is a cozy little house, probably the perfect size for a Nopon. From where Rex stands, he can see what can only be described as a mess. The kitchen and dining area are relatively clean, but everywhere else has some kind of clutter, namely papers and various tools.

“Thank you for saving us,” Rex says. “So you’re… Tora, you said? Why’d you help us?”

“Tora never like those big bully soldiers, and, meh…” Tora turns away from them bashfully. “Always think Drivers are so cool! Driver and Blade make big power when join spirits! Want to be like cool Driver!”

Malos sounds less amused. “You saved us because you think Drivers are cool?”

“That right!”

“Well, I’m Rex, and this is Malos and Gramps.” Rex gestures to the two respectively, prompting Gramps to wave. “It’s nice to meet you, Tora.” There are worse reasons to save someone, anyway, and Rex really doesn’t think there’s room to complain when they could also have gotten captured.

“Rex-Rex is so lucky to have powerful Blade!” Tora flaps his wings feverishly, his feet barely leaving the ground. Rex isn’t sure, but he thinks he can see stars in Tora’s eyes.

His words leave a bitter taste in Rex’s mouth. “Yeah, lucky.” How lucky can he be? He can’t even properly link with Malos, and so far all he’s managed to do is get saved by Malos.

Malos glances at Rex. He’s thankful for the fact that he chooses not to address it while Tora continues to gush.

“So, Tora, d’you have any idea where those soldiers might have taken someone they’ve arrested? You probably know Torigoth much better than Malos or me.”

Malos crosses his arms. “We’re going to rescue them, then?”

“Of course. Can’t just leave her there, after all.”

He smiles. “Finally, you’re making good decisions.”

Tora quieted for a moment. “No idea where big bullies take friend. Tora have to ask around town for that!”

“Maybe it’s not in town…?” Gramps hums as he considers the thought. “Can’t say I have much experience in breaking people out of jail.”

Rex sighed. “Makes sense. Haven’t been here long, but I haven’t noticed any place like a jail here.”

“Hmm… Tora and friends think about it later! Now time for food!”

“Can’t we handle that later? I’d like to find Nia and Dromarch as soon as possible.” He gets that people have needs, but shouldn’t they be more urgent about this? There’s no telling what could be happening to Nia and Dromarch right now, after all, and…

“You haven’t eaten anything yet today, kid. Can’t do anything for them like that. I can cook something for everyone if it’s going to be an issue.”

“Malos, you can cook?” He shouldn’t even be surprised anymore. Is there anything he can’t do?

He scoffs. “Of course I can cook. You act like it’s hard.”

“Tora not have skills for complicated dish, so may have to clean things for cook.” Tora walks over to a box in the kitchenette and points to it. “Ingredients in box!”

Malos walks over and begins rustling through the box. “Yeah, I can work with this.”

“Well, while Malos cooks, may I speak with you, Rex?” Gramps climbs out of his helmet and flutters over to Tora’s dining table to sit. He stretches out a bit while waiting for a response.

“Oh, yeah, no problem. Is this meant to be private?” He can’t say he’s thrilled at the prospect. This is about the closest that Gramps ever gets to a serious “we need to talk” moment, and he’s pretty sure he knows what it’s about.

“No, here is fine. It’s for the best that Malos hears it, seeing as he’s your Blade.”

That’s enough to confirm Rex’s suspicion about this chat. He takes a seat nearby and nods for Gramps to go ahead. Malos is chopping some kind of fruit in the background, but it’s not hard to tell that he’s listening. Not like there’s anything else to listen to.

“To put it simply, you need to work on your relationship with Malos.”

Simply, right. “Work…?”

“As I was saying during battle, the reason Malos cannot transmit ether to you is because you don’t trust him. A Driver needs to trust his Blade, and the Blade, the Driver.” Gramps crosses his arms as he speaks. “Are you sure there’s no problems you may have with him?”

“Problems?” Maybe he should have taken this somewhere private, after all. “No, no, nothing of the sort!”

“Are you sure? If I recall, you had no problems fighting with him against Mythra.” Gramps peers right past his facade.

He flounders for a moment. “Well, that was before—”

“Are you seriously going to try to pretend like nothing’s wrong?” Malos chops through something especially hard, sending the slice to the floor. “Your Blades can tell when the affinity link dies because of the Driver, you know. I don’t know what the hell is up with you, but I know that you’ve decided that you don’t trust me.” He looks over his shoulder at Rex, whose posture stiffens accordingly.

Rex tries to redirect his attention to anything else, which results in him watching Malos’s impressive knifework. Shouldn’t he be looking at the knife when he’s cutting so qui—

“Can’t you be bothered to look at me when I’m talking to you?” Malos snaps. “Whatever problems you have with my power, I’m going to need you to get over it. Your friend was captured because you refused to let me use it, and had I not used it on Rotbart, we’d all be dead right now.”

“Mehmeh, Tora go clean up now! Friends not mind Tora!” Tora, smart Nopon that he is, makes the decision to bow out before he somehow gets caught up in the conversation.

Rex is a bit too scared to say anything for a moment, but he at least manages to look Malos in the eyes now. “…Have you used it on people before?” He asks finally.

“I don’t use that power on living beings unless I don’t have another choice. Believe it or not, you’re not the first Driver that wasn’t necessarily fine with the thought of a power that destroys everything it touches.” He turns back to his knifework. “Had there been time to figure out how to get you out of that situation without using it on that thing, I would have, but fact is, you were moments away from death.”

Gramps leans forward. “Rex, if you can’t yet move past Malos’s power, maybe it’s better for you to resonate with a second Blade.”

“A second Blade?” The subject change is a nice distraction. “You mean like, resonating with another core crystal?”

“Yes. Many Drivers choose to resonate with more than one Blade,” he says. “For various reasons, but you may find it easier to build affinity with another Blade instead of having to rely on Malos.”

“It’s not like with Malos, right? I'm not sure if I know how.”

“You’re a Driver. Whether or not you had the potential before, you do now,” Malos says. “It’s not hard, just grab the thing and focus."

“Okay, next question. Where do I even get a core crystal to resonate with?” They're not exactly common if you're not looking to join the military.

“Tora can help!” Now that Malos is calm, or at least quiet, Tora’s ever eager to be useful to the conversation. “Tora have crystal from try to be Driver! Tora give to Rex-Rex since not have potential anyway.”

“That’s very kind of you, Tora,” Gramps says.

Tora shuffles around the clutter on his desk. When he finally finds the glowing blue crystal, he bounds over to Rex with it. “Meheh, not big deal! Man at shop wouldn’t give refund, so Tora hold onto it just in case!”

“Tora, why can’t you resonate with it if you want a Blade so much?” He’s never really known much about Drivers and Blades, but it seems strange that he wouldn't be able to. Come to think of it, Malos did mention something about "potential"...

Tora frowns. “Not everyone have potential for become Driver. When Tora try to become Driver, Tora’s nose bleed like fountain for three days straight! Others have much worse, though.”

“So not everyone can become a Driver?” That makes sense. Didn’t Nia say something earlier about the empire running out of people to recruit as Drivers, too?

“It’s becoming increasingly rare to find potential Drivers in Alrest these days,” Gramps says.

“Rex-Rex already have Blade, so should have potential for another!” Tora extended the wing holding the core crystal expectantly. “Go on, Rex-Rex, Tora want to see crystal become Blade!"

“I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I’ll give it a go.” The moment Rex’s hand closes around the crystal, it washes over the room with a bright light. Rex feels, rather than sees, the core crystal morphing in his hand to form the handle of something heavy.

He braces himself against the unexpected weight of the weapon as the light clears. Once it’s faded, he can see the greataxe that's been formed. The wind whips around him almost violently. Is it supposed to do that?

The wind stills after a few moments as the Blade slows to a stop in front of him. Was she just showing off? The Blade, along with her hair and shawl, defy gravity as she floats before Rex. She’s not exactly well-covered, but… that’s normal for Blades, right? He tries not to think about it.

Her eyes are sharp as she inspects Rex. “I take it you’re my Driver? I’m Zenobia.” She extends a hand to Rex, who hurriedly moves the axe onto his shoulder and shakes her hand.

“Yeah. My name’s Rex,” he says as he shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“I won’t pretend I was hoping for someone less scrawny, but you’ll do! Who’re your friends?”

“This is Malos, Gramps, and Tora,” he says, gesturing to each of them.

“Malos, huh…?” Zenobia floats over to the man in question, looking him over once, then a second time. When she spots his core crystal, she gives him a sharp-toothed grin. “That’s not a normal core crystal, Malos. Are you Rex’s Blade, too?”

He nods, eyeing her. She bursts into laughter, leaning up against the counter.

When she stops laughing, she wipes at a tear and meets his incredulous stare with an even wider grin. “What’s the Aegis doing cooking for a bunch of guys?”

Malos moves to the stove. “I was hungry, and I doubt any of them can actually feed themselves.”

Rude. He’s fed himself for five years without a problem before Malos.

“Um, Zenobia?” Rex steps towards her cautiously. “Malos and I are going to Elysium. Will you come with us?”

“Elysium, you say?” She considers it for a moment. “How refreshing. Drivers usually don’t bother asking their Blades about stuff like that. I’ll come with you if I can fight Malos.”

“You want to… fight him?”

Zenobia laughs again. Is everything amusing to her? “Of course I want to fight him. The Aegis is supposed to be ultra-powerful, right? The strongest Blade in existence? I'm going to surpass that.”

“I suppose if he’s okay with it, there’s no reason for me to say no…” Rex rubbed the back of his neck. It should be fine, right?

“Great!” Zenobia floated back over to Malos, draping an arm over his shoulder. “What do you say, Malos?”

“Get off of me. I’m busy.” He adjusts his posture to push her off without even looking up.

She reluctantly backs away so he can move around. “Well, obviously we wouldn’t fight now. But come on, it’d be great practice! Unless you don’t think you can take me?”

“Are you done?” Oh, Malos is getting irritated now. Well, he was pretty irritated before, but Zenobia is pushing him to new heights.

“Nope! I’m gonna keep pushing until you fight me!”

Malos chooses not to respond to that. “Tora, where are your plates?” Tora bounds over to the kitchen to show him where things are kept.

Maybe Rex should step in. “I’m not so sure pushing him like this is a good idea, maybe you should—"

“Zenobia, was it?” Malos is adding what appears to be final touches now as Tora sets the table silently. “Care to take a guess what I did this morning?”

“I have no idea! Did you get to kill something awesome?” Her face lights up at the thought.

“I killed a gogol the size of this house by punching it a single time,” he says. Rex flinches. “Maybe later I can take you to see what’s left of it.”

“What? I don’t believe you. How is that even possible?” She appears hooked on his every word. “You’re bluffing.”

“Ask the kid if you don’t believe me. Unless you can stand up to something that powerful, I’d abandon any hopes you have of fighting me, shut up, and eat lunch. That goes for the rest of you, too. We’ve got a lot of work to do if we’re going to go rescue Nia.”

Zenobia glances at Rex with her head tilted as if to ask, is this guy serious? Rex only nods, stomach turning again at the thought of Rotbart.

She breaks into a grin. “Well then! You’ve given me a goal, is that a promise?"

Malos heaves a sigh as he starts serving whatever it is he’s made. “I’ll consider it if you can ever make it that far.”

“Great! It’s a deal!” Zenobia laughs, taking a seat at the table. “Don’t forget me, okay?”

“Like you’d let me,” he says.

As everyone sits down to eat, a thought occurs to Rex. "Come to think of it, Mythra's an Aegis too, right?"

"Right."

"But if the Aegis is a Blade, how can she have Sever? Is it possible for Blades to be Drivers, too?"

Malos entertains the thought for a moment. "You've got a point. Normal Blades can't become Drivers. The core crystal just doesn't respond."

"But," Gramps says, "an Aegis is not just a normal Blade. It's quite possible that Mythra and Malos both may have the ability to become Drivers."

"There's another Aegis?" Zenobia asks.

"Yeah," Malos says. "Not sure you want to fight her, though. She's not going to put up with you at all."

"You're going to have to get to know me better, Malos. I absolutely want to fight her."

"I don't think Mythra is interested in some friendly battle."

"You're not a very fun person, are you?" Zenobia teases. "Say, Rex, do you think we'll get to fight this other Aegis sometime?"

Is she crazy? "I mean, probably yeah, but not if we're lucky. She's ruthless."

“Oh, I like the sound of that!”

He gets the sense that there's nothing he can say that will change Zenobia's mind. He's not even sure they'd survive a second fight against Mythra. Rex returns to eating in silence.

~

“So, Rex,” Zenobia says as she follows the man in question. “I'm curious. You’ve got Malos. Arguably the strongest Blade out there. Capable of pretty much anything.”

“Yeah?” Rex says. They, along with Malos, are following Tora into town on a bit of a shopping trip while they try to gather information on Nia. Rex had offered to help Tora get the final parts he needed for this project he was working on, as thanks for all of the help he’d given them today.

“What did you resonate with me for?”

Of course she’d ask that. “Well, it was Gramps’s suggestion, but…”

“More power, right? It must be hard to make it to Elysium with only one Blade on your side,” she says. “You couldn’t have picked a better Blade to resonate with! Between me and Malos, we’ll get there for sure!”

“Actually, Gramps suggested it because I’m having trouble linking with Malos,” Rex admits.

Her face falls. “Oh, well that’s no good. You need to be able to trust all your Blades, Rex, not just one. Yeah, I’m pretty strong, but if you can’t even use Malos… What’s the problem?”

“It’s just that… I can’t move past the power he used against Rotbart. Er, the gogol he mentioned killing. It was… horrific. He didn’t even seem to be bothered by it.” He shudders at the thought. "And I can't help but wonder who he's used it on before." Everyone’s right that he needs to learn to move past it, it’s just so hard to think of it as a power for good when it acts so horrifically.

“So, you’re afraid of his power, then. Why’d he kill Rotbart? Just because?” She can’t understand where he’s coming from. He gets that, though. Maybe Nia’d understand, but she’s in a jail cell somewhere. He hopes she’s okay.

Rex shakes his head. “No, he—”

“Actually,” she cuts him off immediately, “I’m gonna talk to him about it and get the story from him first. You go handle this techno-stuff with Tora at the shop while I talk to him, ‘kay?” Before Rex can even respond, she runs up to Malos and pulls him off to the side. Trying to listen to what she’s saying to him is pointless, so Rex approaches the shopkeeper Tora’s talking to.

“Don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about that Gormotti Driver those soldiers captured this morning?” Rex asks tentatively as Tora shops.

He nods. “Nasty bit of business, that. The terrorist, right?” He’s technically right, but that’s not a word he’d apply to Nia. “Heard they’re going to take her back to Mor Ardain to be executed.”

Executed!? Oh no. They need to work fast. “Do you know where she’d be held, out of curiosity? I’m passing through, see, and I’ve always been interested in stuff like that.” He's cautious about coming across as suspicious, but no amount of caution can prevent the subtle alarm that creeps into his voice.

The shopkeeper laughs. “Can’t blame you for that. Seems everyone in town is interested in that girl, and for good reason. Torna’s killed a lot of good people.” Okay, now that’s gotta be wrong. Nia’s not a killer. Mixed up with a bad group, maybe, but there's no way she's a killer.

"If I had to guess, they might have taken her aboard that warship outside town. Can't imagine any place less secure would work for someone like her."

“Rex-Rex, Tora found parts needed for finish big project!”

Tora could probably use a lesson or two on how not to interrupt an important conversation. “Alright, how much for them, then?”

The shopkeeper looks over the items momentarily. “Three bion connectors, and one perfect range sensor… thirty-two thousand gold, I’d say.”

“What? I’ve got money, but not that much.” He’d sent most of his advance on the recent job home to Fonsett. “Is there anything we can do to maybe bring that price down a bit?”

“No chance. Not easy to get your hands on these, you know. At most I can go down to thirty thousand.”

No matter how steadfast the shopkeeper is, it won’t change the fact that that’s still about twenty thousand more gold than Rex has to spend. He sighs, and just as he’s about to tell Tora that he can’t afford that much help, Zenobia slings an arm over his shoulder.

“Got anything you need killed?” She says, grinning wildly.

He looks shocked for a moment. “Are you…?”

“No, not people, if that’s what you’re thinking. This province has all kinds of creatures outside Torigoth, right? Some frightening, some maybe getting in the way of you receiving shipments…” Zenobia might be something of a genius.

The man thinks for a moment. “Well, you’re right that there’s this gogol that makes it hard to get deliveries from other villages, but you don’t want to go near—”

“If you're talking about Rotbart, he’s dead as of this morning, so that’s not an issue. We can get proof if you’ll sweeten the deal for us.”

The shopkeep looks at her blankly for a moment before he shakes his head. “Can’t believe I’m doing this. If you can bring me proof that he’s dead, I’ll charge you eight thousand for the whole lot. But it's got to be definitive proof, you hear? It won't be hard to tell if he's still out and about if you're lying.”

“Consider it done, then!” Zenobia pats Rex on the back forcefully, causing him to cough.

Seriously? Eight thousand? He’s dropping twenty-four thousand off the price over this?

Maybe Malos's power is more useful than he thought, if it means all they need to do to get past this is bring in some kind of proof.

~

“Are you going to stare at me all night?” Malos looks over his shoulder at Rex, who’s been trying to say something to him ever since he woke up this morning. Honestly, he’s not doing himself any favors by putting it off. Tora’s in the other room, working on his robot, and Father only knows where Zenobia went off to. He’s grateful for the privacy, though, as he’s been trying to look over the map Tora gave them of the area and plan Nia's rescue.

Rex stutters as he’s startled out of his silence. “No, I just… sorry. Wasn’t tryin’ to be rude.” He focuses on the map in a poorly-concealed attempt to avoid eye contact. Honestly, they’re going to have to work on his social skills. Does he treat everyone like this?

Malos sighs. “You know, you’d probably be better at talking to people if you started looking them in the eyes when it comes to important stuff.”

“What?” Rex’s eyes snap up to look at him. That’s better.

“You want to say something to me, then say it. We’ve got time while the fuzzball works on his robot, and I’m not making much progress trying to find a route to that warship.”

“It’s just, I was talking to Zenobia and she was trying to, you know, help me see things from your perspective.” He pauses to consider his next words. “You know how earlier, I was asking if you’d ever used that power on humans?”

Ah. So that’s what this is about. He was wondering why Zenobia suddenly interrogated him yesterday over the stuff with Rotbart. He supposes she must have done something right, if Rex is talking to him about it now.

“You said that your old Driver didn’t like your power either. How did you… you know, move past all that with him?”

He’s almost proud of Rex managing to keep an acceptable amount of eye contact when asking his question. Almost. He’s more concerned about the question itself. He has to stop to think about the answer—500 years ago is a lot of time to forget things, after all, and Addam didn’t make nearly so much fuss about it.

“To tell you the truth, Addam and I just—”

The lights suddenly spark, then go out completely. The sudden darkness is enough to make Malos stop talking and listen for the others. Was the storm outside really that bad? Yeah, there’d been some thunder, but a power outage?

Zenobia’s voice echoes out from somewhere above them. “Everything alright? I was trying to read!”

Huh. Didn’t know she could read.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Rex asks.

“Friends need not worry! Lights back in just a moment,” Tora calls from his workshop. Moments later, the lights flicker back on. “Poppi just needed big shock for wakey!”

“Did it work?” Rex gets up and walks into the workshop, maybe a bit too eager to see. Malos, although reluctant to admit his curiosity, follows, and soon the room is crowded as Zenobia joins in to see the unveiling.

“Come on, Poppi,” Tora whispers. The robot’s arms twitch momentarily before her posture straightens and her face comes to life.

“Greetings, masterpon!” The robot—Poppi—salutes flawlessly. She looks like a child, but more... rigid. “My name Poppi. Pleased to meet friends!” She waves to every person in the room individually, a bright smile on her face. He’s gotta give Tora credit—it takes one intelligent Nopon to build something like this from scratch.

Rex lets out a low whistle. “Wow, she’s really lifelike!”

“Meheheh, Tora spend years building Poppi!” Wow. Is he tearing up?

“Of course Poppi lifelike! Masterpon put lots of love into building of Poppi.” She stands proudly. Is she taking credit for being built? “Poppi have no doubt that masterpon would not settle for less than perfect!”

“Poppi world’s first artificial Blade!” Tora explains.

Okay, he’ll admit it. If this “Poppi” functions like a normal Blade, that’s one damn impressive feat of engineering.

“Artificial Blade?” Rex looks her over again, eyes wide. “You can fight with her?”

“That not all! Poppi programmed to do many things, even able to fly,” Tora says. “Tora and Poppi would be very helpful in rescuing Driver friend of Rex-Rex!”

Rex looks shocked momentarily. “Wait, you want to come with us?”

“It least Tora can do to help friends!”

“Poppi will go where masterpon goes,” Poppi adds.

“That settles it, then,” Rex says, “we’ll go rescue Nia and Dromarch together.”

Chapter Text

Rex stared up at the ship above them. Malos had found a place on Tora’s map that showed a large root extending out underneath a maintenance entrance to the battleship—they’d made it out to the root, so all that was left was getting up to the entrance. It seems close enough, maybe he could…

He takes aim and fires his grappling hook at the ledge. It embeds itself firmly in the underside of the ship. Gotcha. Moments later, the wind whips his face. He thinks it’s coming from the momentum of the grappling hook pulling himself up, but when he reaches the ledge and pulls himself up to look at his friends below, he sees that Zenobia’s flown herself up to join him.

“Alright,” he says, “now how do we get the rest of you up here?”

Poppi answers most of his question wordlessly, grabbing Tora with both of her arms and flying herself up on jets like it’s nothing. She sets him down and stands proudly. “This no problem for Poppi. Masterpon also made Poppi extra strong!”

“Think that you could help me pull Malos up, then? I’m sure the lot of us could manage it.”

“Send the grappling hook down and we can all give it a shot,” Zenobia says.

Rex nods and sends it down for Malos. Poppi is already grabbing at the line for support. The two lurch slightly at Malos’s weight when he grabs the chain and steps onto the hook—all that muscle must weigh a lot—and Tora and Zenobia do what they can to provide support. From there, they manage to pull Malos up to the ledge, albeit not without a struggle, and now they face the truly hard part of this jailbreak—finding Nia and Dromarch without being jailed themselves.

Luckily, the first thing of note they happen upon is a dead-end hallway filled with cells. Poppi stops in front of one and points at it. “Poppi senses Blade behind door.”

"That must be Dromarch," Rex says, "but how do we get him out?"

Tora frowns as he investigates the door in question. "Door is locked tight, meh. Tora not know how to pick locks..."

"Poppi is very strong. Could assist by applying brute force to door."

Gramps pokes his head out of Rex's helmet. "I do not think it would be wise to make a lot of noise. After all, we wouldn't want to draw unnecessary attention to our presence here."

Zenobia’s voice echoes down the corridor. She’s not great at volume control, or maybe she doesn’t care. "Come on, don't worry so much. I'm sure we could take them on if they did hear us, and these guys are good practice!"

"We can't just barge in like it's nothing, though," Rex says, "and last time, the soldiers had these ether nets. If they have any more of those, we'll have done worse than wasted our time, Nia’ll be…” He doesn’t want to say done for, and no one asks him to finish his thought.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Zenobia says. “I’m fast, and Malos can destroy anything. Between the two of us, some measly soldiers can’t do crap about our little breakout mission. They’ll be lucky to get the chance to try it.”

“Can friend not use power to get rid of door?” Tora asks.

Malos looks up from where he stands nearby, leaning against the wall while the others deliberate. “I could destroy something like that easily, yeah.” He doesn’t move, though. He looks like he’s waiting for something.

“Ooh, are you gonna use it?” Zenobia asks, eyes sparkling. “I wanna see what this power looks like!”

Rex frowns. He’d been hoping to avoid it, but maybe it was stupid to try to avoid Malos’s power to begin with. His ability to destroy anything he touches aren’t going to go away just because Rex wants them to, and it’s not like it’s not useful to have on his side.

Rex watches him for a moment before approaching him. “Malos?”

“Yeah?” He crosses his arms.

“Could you handle this door for us? I really don’t think it’s a great idea to attract guards here, even if we can handle them.”

Malos chuckles. “Not so scary now that you need it, is it?”

“Right. Sorry for freaking out about it. Can… you avoid using it on anything living, in the future?”

“If Rotbart hadn’t been moments away from snapping your body in half, I wouldn’t have bothered using it on him. It’s not effortless, you know.”

“Thank you for handling Rotbart, by the way. Don’t remember if I ever thanked you for saving my life.”

Malos scoffs and stands off the wall, cracking his fingers as the darkness sparks to life around his hand. “All that shit’s in the past. Let’s get that door open. Everyone stand back.”

Everyone takes several steps back and watches as Malos presses his hand against the door. Within moments, the door has completely crumbled away, and Dromarch pokes his head out of the new space.

“I take it this is our rescue party?” he asks as he enters the hallway.

“That’s right,” Rex says with a nod.

“My gratitude for the rescue, Master Rex. I take it you have not yet found my Lady?”

Rex shakes his head. “We were hoping you’d be able to help us with that part.”

“My Lady and I are in resonance. Finding her should be of little difficulty.” Dromarch bows his head before glancing at the others. “Perhaps before we move it would be best to learn the names of your new companions.”

“Right, of course,” he says. “This is Tora, his Blade Poppi, and Zenobia. I resonated with her after you and Nia got captured.” They each wave as Rex says their names.

“So you’re this Nia girl’s Blade?” Zenobia places her hands on her hips. Her ever-present grin remains. “Great! Let’s go find your Driver, then!”

Zenobia is all too eager to lead the charge into the next room, which is regrettably staffed by several soldiers. It’s noisy thanks to the boilers, which must have helped keep the soldiers from hearing them talk earlier.

It quickly becomes clear that they’ll have to fight. There’s too many soldiers to sneak past, and they appear to be spaced out so they’re perfectly in between them and the rest of the ship.

Zenobia doesn’t even give anyone a chance to think before breezing into the room and taking care of it. The soldiers hardly get the chance to go collect whatever fancy tool they need to dispatch the infiltration or alert other soldiers before she has them taken care of and is back at the entrance to the room with nothing but triumph in her expression.

“They’re still alive, right…?” Rex eyes one of the bodies warily.

Zenobia claps him on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, I didn’t figure you wanted me to kill them. Don’t worry, I’d hardly be a good fighter if I didn’t know how to knock someone out without killing them!"

"That's a relief."

“Promise me we’ll find something challenging to fight after this, though,” she says, “these guys are practically nothing to handle. I’m not convinced they’ve been trained.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for someone you can fight.” He turns to Dromarch. “Dromarch, which way are we going?”

Dromarch pads over to the metal staircase on one side of the room. “I believe that my lady is this way.”

“Alright,” Malos says, “then let’s get going.”

Dromarch leads them throughout the winding halls of the battle cruiser, and it’s not long before they come across a guarded door at the end of a hallway. He makes eye contact with Rex and nods. “My lady is behind that door,” he says, backing away so as not to get caught up in the battle that’s about to start.

“Alright then, let’s see about handling these guys. Ready, Tora?” Rex reaches for Zenobia’s axe and waits for Tora’s nod before he rounds the corner.

The moment the soldiers see them, one of them steps forward and draws his gun. “You must be the terrorist’s friends.”

Rex glares, readying the axe just as quickly as he can manage. Beside him, Tora readies himself for battle, as well. “We’re her friends, but it’s pretty rude to call her a terrorist.”

“You can worry about politeness when all of you are in jail cells,” the other soldier says.

“No choice then,” Tora says, “Tora and friends fight!”

The first soldier readies his gun and chuckles. “In that case, I’ll enjoy locking the lot of you up like your friend is.”

Zenobia lets out a laugh and taps Rex on the shoulder. “Rex, give me my axe. I’ll handle them myself.”

Rex glances at the soldiers ahead of him, who are busily loading their rifles, and hands the axe over to her. “Go for it.”

“Thanks!” She grins delightedly as the wind picks up around her. “Oh, I hope they put up a fight.”

Gramps pokes his head out of Rex’s helmet to watch as Zenobia effortlessly handles the men. When she uses her axe to break one man’s gun in half, he lets out a chuckle. “Rex, my boy, it seems you have a penchant for the ones who like to destroy.”

“Really? It doesn’t seem like Malos likes to destroy things all that much,” Rex says. “If anything, I think it’s more likely that he’s just gotten used to it.”

Upon the breaking of the soldiers’ second gun, the two glance at each other. One nods after a moment “We’ve been disarmed! Fall back,” one says, and the two immediately stumble away and down the hall, escaping just as fast as they can.

Zenobia watches them go and turns to offer the axe back to Rex. “Well, that was less fun than I’d hoped. Cowards.”

“Those guys didn’t happen to drop a key, did they?” Rex asks as he watches the two soldiers round the corner and leave their sight entirely.

Malos shakes his head. “Unless someone wants to try to chase them down, it might be better for me to handle it and save us the trouble.”

Rex nods. “Yeah, I don’t think it’s worth trying to track it down if we can just open the door now. Could you handle it again?”

Malos nods and approaches the door. “Yeah, this is nothing.” He gives the door one loud knock to get Nia’s attention. “Nia, can you hear me? Whatever you do, don’t touch this door.” He waits a few moments to give Nia a chance to move away.

“Oh, twice in one day!” Zenobia leans forward with interest.

Malos nods, tendrils of darkness beginning to wrap around his hand. “Yeah. Stand back, will you? This’ll destroy everything it touches, including you.”

Zenobia takes the hint, backing away as Malos presses the palm of his hand flat against the door. In moments, only half the door remains, the rest having disintegrated just as easily as paper. The remainder is easily kicked out of the way, leaving nothing left between Nia and freedom. To Rex’s relief, she looks unharmed, if not a bit surprised.

“Is it safe to come closer?” She slowly moves out of the corner. “There’s not some kind of residue or something I should be worried about, right?”

“You’ll be fine.” Malos nods.

“Are you alright, Nia?” Yeah, she looks fine, but Rex can’t help but ask anyway. “Sorry we didn’t get here sooner.”

She nods. “I’m fine. Didn’t think anyone was coming for me at all.”

“You act like we’d leave you behind.” Did she really think they'd just let her get executed?

“Thanks. Really.” She steps out of the cell with a deep inhale and inspects the new additions to Rex’s group. “I see you’ve tracked down Dromarch, too. Can’t say I recognize the others.”

“This is Tora and his artificial Blade, Poppi,” Rex says, gesturing to each. “And this is Zenobia. Gramps suggested I resonate with a second Blade.”

“I see. Good to meet all of you, and thanks for helping me out.” Nia climbs on Dromarch’s back. “We should get going. We can figure out what’s next after we get ourselves someplace that’s not probably crawling with soldiers.”

There's only one way to go that they haven't yet seen—the hall which the soldiers escaped down. Since they haven’t returned with reinforcements, it’s probably safe to assume they can get off the ship that way.

Sure enough, they find their way to a vast hangar with a large door. It’s sure to lead them outside, but right now, it’s closed, and the controls are manned by several soldiers. With Nia’s help, though, they make quick work of knocking them out and Rex and Tora manage to figure out exactly which of many potential buttons and levers raises the hangar door.

They begin making their way across the eerily empty hangar. Rex can almost taste the success of freedom as they cross the empty space.

“I’m a little disappointed,” Zenobia admits. “These guys were weak, and there were hardly any soldiers on this ship! You’d think they’d be guarding someone they’re holding for execution a little more closely. I barely got to fight anything!”

“Execution?” Nia stops. “They… weren’t going to execute me. They were going to keep me in Mor Ardain.”

“Are you sure?” Rex asks. “But the townspeople were saying...”

Nia curses. “This is a trap, Rex. They were using me as bait to get you and Malos—”

“Ah, I see the terrorist has some sense about her after all!” The man that stands in the hangar entrance is short, stocky, and immediately abrasive. Beside him stands a monstrous Blade; he’s even rounder than his Driver, even taller than Malos, and decked out in metal armor that looks heavy and incredibly effective. The man applauds them almost sarcastically.

“Who are you?” Malos doesn’t sound much like he’s interested in dealing with this guy. Rex doesn’t blame him, and from the expressions of the others, it’s clear that no one is very interested in dealing with him.

The man adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves in lieu of an answer. He clears his throat, prepping for what will clearly be a grand introduction. “My—”

“Consul Dughall,” Nia interrupts him. She rolls her eyes, thoroughly unimpressed with him.

He frowns, clicking his tongue. “I can introduce myself, you mangy fleabag!”

“Fleabag? Is that the worst you can come up with?” She slides off Dromarch and puts a hand on her hip. “I’ve heard better insults from twelve-year-olds.”

“While I’m sure this banter is entertaining for at least one of you, how about this "Dughall" tells us what he wants?” Malos crosses his arms.

“Of course I’m here for the Aegis! The most powerful Blade, in the hands of the Empire? There’d be no doubt left that we’re the strongest in Alrest! And I, as his new Driver, would be irrefutably the strongest Driver in the world!”

Is this guy serious?

Malos seems to echo Rex’s unspoken sentiment. “You do realize that I’d have to actually want to be your Blade, right?” He shakes his head. “You’re an inconvenience at best. Do us all a favor and don’t waste your energy.”

Dughall’s posture stiffens. “Irregardless! I will be claiming the Aegis’s power for myself, and returning the prisoner and her Blade to their cells!”

“Gap detected in Poppi’s vocabulary. Masterpon, should Poppi update database for new word?”

Nia turns to her. “Don’t add anything, Poppi, that’s not a real word.”

“Understood. Poppi will not update vocabulary.”

Dughall’s face turns red in indignation. “Well then! If you’re done chatting, I will be retrieving the Aegis now!”

“You think I’d let you?” Rex says, backing up closer to Malos and Zenobia. “Come on, even if Malos wasn’t capable of taking you on by himself, it’s not like I’m just going to sit by while you waste our time!”

He keeps eye contact with Dughall as the beginnings of a plan form in his head. He’s not against fighting on its own, but he’d prefer to end this sooner rather than later. “Think we can get out of this without a fight?”

“Depends. What’s your plan?” Malos glances at him with enough interest to make Rex believe this could work.

Gramps pokes his head out of Rex’s helmet. “You do have a plan, don’t you, Rex?”

“I’m getting one, just give me a second.” He’s glancing around the room for some way to block their exit when he remembers the control panel they’d been messing around with to open the hangar. Perfect. “Malos, how well can you target your power?”

“Well enough. Where do you need me?”

Okay, good. He glances at his companions “Tora, Nia, get off the ship and try to keep Dughall and his Blade inside. Zenobia, can you help them?”

“I’d be surprised if he could withstand my wind,” she says haughtily. As if to prove her point, a gust of wind brushes past her.

“Great. Keep him distracted and on this side of the door, alright?”

Nia and Tora nod. Nia draws her weapons, while Tora readies the drill shield that he created for Poppi. While they charge Dughall, Rex turns to Malos.

“Malos, follow me,” he says, running to the control panel he’d spotted. “You can run fast, can’t you?”

He nods. “Again, you have to ask? What’s the plan?”

“We’re going to shut Dughall and his Blade in the ship,” Rex says, “I need you to destroy the control panel after the door starts to close.”

“Got it.”

“Now let’s see…” Rex scanned the control panel, looking for the lever Tora had pulled earlier to open the door. “Ah! There it is!” He takes a moment to make sure Nia, Tora, and the others are doing their part correctly—from this distance, he can see Dughall hiding behind his massive Blade and shooting his rifle from behind it whenever he gets the chance. Does that guy have any idea how to fight? Rex doubts he even realizes that his target isn’t in the battle anymore.

The others are all in the right spot, close enough to the door to get out without letting Dughall follow. He pulls the lever, and the moment the door starts moving, Malos rips the lever from the control panel and punches out the glass overlooking the hangar.

“Come on, we’re going to jump."

“Right.” Not his original plan, but Malos has already shattered the glass and it’s probably faster, so he might as well go with it. He leaps out the window shortly after Malos and they make a mad dash for the door. It’s closing too fast—shouldn’t it be taking longer? At this rate, the only way they’ll make it is if—

Dughall and his Blade place themselves between them with the intent to block them, because of course they'd get in the way when the hangar door is so close to closing. No, wait, they don't have time for this—

Malos flings both out of the way. Of course he does.

With barely enough time to spare, Rex and Malos slide underneath the nearly closed hangar door. Rex pulls his arm out of the way at the last second, and with the final grinding of metal, Dughall and his Blade are trapped in the ship, away from where they can bother them.

“That was dangerous,” Gramps says, flying out in front of him. “You could have gotten yourselves trapped in there with him!”

Rex stands up, as does Malos. “Turned out fine, didn't it?”

“And what’s stopping him from opening the door again?” Dromarch asks. Malos drops the lever on the ground in front of him carelessly.

“You know Malos, I wasn’t really expecting you to rip it off the console, I was thinking more like—”

Malos holds up a hand. “What happened to not wanting me to use my power if I don’t need to?”

He’s got a point. Is this his attempt to compromise? “Yeah. You’re right, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, kid.” He cracks his neck. “We should get moving before that moron finds some way out or sends someone after us.”

“Right. Let’s go.”

They’ve caught their breath now, so the group walks towards the gates, cautious at first. Their caution quickly proves to be a waste—the base is practically abandoned, it’s so empty.

“That strange. Tora never see bully base so empty…”

“It seems rather strange for a military base to have no soldiers in it,” Dromarch says.

Nia can’t help but keep her weapons at the ready. “I don’t like this.”

“We don’t really have time to worry about it, do we?” Rex says. He skitters to a stop, though, when a familiar wall of blue flames erupts next to him. “Oh no…”

“What’s this?” Zenobia asks.

Malos only smirks. “Looks like Brighid’s back. And is that…” He peers at the pair of silhouettes against the wall of flames. Next to Brighid’s unmistakable form is that of someone holding the very whipswords that left burns on Rex’s face the day before.

“The Flamebringer,” Dromarch says almost gravely. “Special Inquisitor Mòrag of Mor Ardain, and Brighid’s Driver. The most powerful Driver in the empire.”

“Even scarier than regular bullies,” Tora says, his voice the quietest since Rex met him.

“Not to worry, masterpon. Poppi will help fight against any threat!”

Rex’s hand drifts to the sword at his waist. “Together, then… they’re even more powerful.”

“Nia, wasn’t it?” Mòrag’s voice lilts across the base as she nears them deliberately. “You certainly did prove useful to me.”

Nia stiffens, glaring at Mòrag. “So you spread the rumors to lure Rex and Malos here, then?”

“Yes, you catch on quickly,” she answers. “However, my intention is not for an unnecessary fight to take place.” She paces slightly, as if she’s choosing her next words incredibly carefully.

“An amethyst core crystal is the sign of the Aegis, the Blade with the power to send all of us to the Cloud Sea’s bed. He who can destroy whatever he so chooses. Knowing that…” She turns her gaze on Rex. “What are do you hope to achieve through use of the Aegis?”

“Why should I tell you?” What a ridiculous question.

“Allow me to repeat myself, Rex. The Aegis has the power to destroy Alrest single-handedly. In the wrong hands, the world as we know it could be rendered completely asunder.” She looks past Rex, right at Malos, who has been defiantly silent. “In fact, he’s already destroyed three continents.”

“You think I don’t know he’s dangerous?” He places himself between her and Malos, drawing his sword in his own manner of defiance. “Yeah, I’m not a fan of his past, and I know Malos has a lot of power that’s probably a lot for me to handle here, but I made a promise. You really think I’m going to break that over a past he can’t change?”

She cracks her swords. They extend, arcing out beside her like two blazing snakes, ready to strike at any moment. “How unfortunate. It seems you truly don’t understand the power you control here. I will have to restrain you by force.”

Rex grits his teeth. “I don’t “control” anything, lady, and you won’t be restraining anyone.”

The snakelike whips were apparently just a display of intimidation because she snaps the flaming whips back towards her. They solidify into their normal swordlike form, albeit still blazing as they’re lowered to her sides. Moments later, she’s lunging for Rex.

The heat of her flames barely manages to singe the end of his hair, but he luckily moves just quickly enough to narrowly avoid a slice to the face. What is with these two and going for the face? Even Malos had gotten out of the fight against Brighid before with small burns on his face, and she hadn’t been attacking him.

Nia leaps into the fray, pushing Mòrag away from Rex with the force of her attack. Tora joins them moments later and bounces around Mòrag.

“You fight Tora,” he demands, and his voice is just grating enough to convince her to focus on him for the moment. Fighting three against one probably isn’t the best idea Mòrag has ever had, if Rex has to guess. Then again, with the way Dromarch spoke of her, she might be able to handle even more opponents in a fight.

“Malos, are you ready?” Rex asks. Moments later, the ether rushes through him, activating his previously dormant sword and giving Rex the same feeling of power he’d had when fighting Mythra. Sure, he’d been able to link up with Zenobia fine when fighting alongside her earlier, but this power is on a completely different level. Malos really is more powerful than a regular Blade.

He doesn’t need any further prompting before he brings his sword down on Mòrag. She raises one sword just in time to block his strike, meeting his glare with one equally as intense, if not more condescending.

“I’d been given the impression that you couldn’t fight using the Aegis, boy,” she says, maneuvering around deftly and slicing at his arm.

So Brighid had noticed. “Maybe so, but you’ve got a lot to learn if you think things don’t change.”

“Me?” She laughs, crossing her swords over her chest momentarily. What is she— “You are the one with much to learn, boy.” As if to punctuate her sentence, Mòrag slices outward, sending an explosion of flame that sends Tora and Nia flying. Rex is barely able to stay on his feet with Malos’s help.

“I don’t know if we can beat her like this,” Rex says when he gets a moment to breathe.

Malos nods. “What do you—heads up!”

Mòrag leaps towards Rex with swords raised. There’s not enough time to block—this time, she cuts into his shoulder with a searing blade. She must hit Malos too—he hisses audibly, if only barely.

“Rex!”

“Got it,” he replies. Malos takes the sword from him and takes his place in the fight against Mòrag for the moment.

“Now would be a great time for you to come up with another one of those plans, Rex!” Malos doesn’t take his eyes off Mòrag.

Rex nods. If only there was some way to dampen their power…

Maybe there is. Looming over the gate is a water tower, and yesterday Tora had managed to weaken Brighid with the help of a water pump…

“Zenobia, can you help?” Rex shouts, looking around for her. She’d disappeared when the fighting started, but now she swoops in to challenge Mòrag excitedly. “Thanks! Malos, we’re going to need your power. How is everyone else holding up?” Several weak affirmations meet his ears. “Good. Get ready to run.”

Once everyone’s on their feet and ready to go, Rex leads a mad dash for the gate. Mòrag spots them, but Rex isn’t interested in any protests to his escape.

“Zenobia, distract them!”

“Happy to help!” She sends Mòrag and Brighid stumbling back with a particularly strong gust of wind, giving the others enough time to get in position.

In the time it takes for Mòrag and Brighid to catch up, everyone’s in place to corral them according to Rex’s plan. Zenobia flies up above the water tower and watches closely to where they end up. Malos waits for the right moment and send his power through the nearest leg of the water tower. His power climbs the leg as it consumes, and the other three legs creak in response as they tilt.

Zenobia directs Poppi, who in turn uses her jets to ensure that the tower tilts in Mòrag’s direction. The water rushes out the top, absolutely drenching the two in its wake.

“Malos and I have somewhere we need to go,” Rex says as the water pools around his feet. “And I’m not letting you or anyone else stop us.”

When they run, they find that they aren’t pursued. Even so, Rex can’t help but keep looking over his shoulder as they make their escape. It doesn’t seem right that someone like Mòrag would just let them go when she had been so determined, even if her Blade is drenched.

They cross most of the field before deciding it’s safe enough to settle down and find a spot to camp for the night. They find a nice spot in the woods that seems empty of monsters, and Malos and Zenobia collect some firewood.

"We'll have to keep someone on watch overnight, just to be sure," Nia says.

"We could set shifts?" Rex suggests.

Malos speaks from where he's helping Zenobia start the fire. "I'll take first watch."

"Didn't you take watch when we slept in the forest, too?" Nia raises an eyebrow. "You should really get some sleep at some point."

"I'll be fine. Just worry about yourselves, and I'll worry about keeping people and animals away from the camp.”

Rex leans towards Nia. "I don't think he's willing to budge on this. It might be better to drop it."

Nia sighs and relents. "Guess in the meantime I'll handle everyone's injuries. Come on Rex, you're first."

What her arts don’t heal, she bandages. While she works, Rex considers how to talk to Malos. He should probably talk to him about what’s gone down, without getting interrupted this time.

They’ve managed to arrive at something of a compromise, but that doesn’t mean things are fixed. He’s gotten enough lectures from, well, everyone about how he needs to be able to trust in his Blades and how he should work on building that trust. Right now, though, Malos is a bit focused on rejecting Zenobia’s propositions to fight. It’s probably for the better that Rex waits until after they’ve both had a good rest, anyway.

Nia moves on to tending to Tora, who doesn’t want to sit still long enough for her to check him over for any injuries that need healing. As he relaxes and watches Nia work, a thought occurs to Rex.

“Say, Nia,” he says. “What are you going to do now? Are you still against coming with us?”

She stops, her ears flicking as she processes his question. “Seriously? You still want me around after all that?”

“We could use a healer like you on our way to Elysium, and you’re a friend.” He shrugs, leaning back on his elbows.

“The way I see it, we’re better off if we stick together,” Malos says.

She’s silent for a few moments. “If you don’t mind all that stuff about my past, well…”

“That’s not you now, is it? I don’t know why you joined this Torna, but if you were really bad, you would've let Mythra kill me before we ever got to Gormott.”

“Let me think about it tonight, alright? You’re talking about a really big undertaking.”

It’s not a “yes”, not quite, but it’s closer than she was before they reached Torigoth, so Rex accepts it. It’s another thing that’ll have to wait until everyone’s had a chance to rest. For now, he falls asleep, content and exhausted from the events of the day.

Chapter Text

Nia watches the horizon almost wistfully. After a lot of insistence last night, she’d convinced Malos to wake her up after a few hours so she could take watch and he could get some sleep for once. To her surprise—with a note of chagrin—he’d actually listened to her, so she’s stuck watching the sunrise.

She should be focusing on making sure no harm comes to her companions, but she can’t help but be distracted. It’s for the better that she leaves Rex and his following behind and slums it with Dromarch. She decided it the moment she ended up back here—that way, they won’t have to worry about being lumped in with her, and maybe she can find someplace with plenty of Drivers where she’ll blend right in.

Still, she can’t help the guilt that’s twinging at her heart. Rex had gone out of his way and risked himself to rescue her. Twice, even. He could have gotten locked up, the same as her, for her sake, and surely that meant something. Even if that “something” was that she was liable to hold back a boy who was literally trying to reach the stars.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stick with them for a while, though. Rex and Malos had told her their goal, to make it to Elysium, and between the two of them, it might even be possible. Rex, at least, was probably the least objectionable person to come across powers like Malos’s that she knew of. Maybe they could use a healer like her on their side. After all, she wasn’t exactly common, and…

“Lost in thought?” Malos speaks suddenly, causing Nia to yelp and leap a foot away from him, claws at the ready.

She straightens her posture with a hand over her racing heart, trying to regulate her breathing as best she can. You’d think with all that armor that guy would be a little bit easier to hear moving around, especially when everything else is near silent. Does this guy even sleep?

“You should be sleeping,” she says, keeping her voice low. “Have you slept at all since I met you?”

Malos waves his hand dismissively. “Not important. Couldn’t sleep if I tried anyway. What is important is that you’re hiding something from all of us.”

Nia flinches. He couldn’t possibly have—

Okay, Nia, deep breaths. “Why don’t we talk about this a bit further out? Wouldn’t want to wake up the others.”

He nods. “Alright. Someone should still watch camp, though.”

Nia crouches beside Dromarch, gently moving him just enough that he stirs awake. He blinks blearily at her before pulling himself to his feet. “Something wrong, my lady?”

“No, sorry to wake you,” she whispers. “Can you take over watch for a few minutes? I need to talk to Malos about… you know.”

He blinks before nodding in understanding, taking a post towards the field. “Take as long as you need.”

Nia smiles. She couldn’t ask for a better Blade, Aegis aside. “Thanks, Dromarch. We won’t be long.”

She takes the lead in navigating away from the camp, feeling a sense of ownership over the titan they’ve spent the past few days on. Why shouldn’t she? She lived here long enough, knew the terrain well enough.

“Have you decided on whether you’re going to come with us?” Malos asks as they walk.

Nia almost scoffs. Who’s he to try easing into this? It’s clear he’s figured out Nia’s darkest secret, or at the very least is getting uncomfortably close to it. She’s got half a mind to just tell him to cut to the chase but decides to play along as well as she can.

Nia sighs. “I’m not sure. It doesn’t seem like a good idea, for either of us. For all I know, all this guff about Elysium is some elaborate plot to destroy Alrest.”

“Just because I can destroy things doesn’t mean I want to,” he says, almost a growl.

“Right, sorry. I just meant… I can’t trust any of you, and keeping me around is only going to bring more trouble into this whole plot anyways. Besides, how d’you know I’m trustworthy enough to keep around?”

“To be frank, you’re the least trustworthy one here. We’ve put ourselves on the line for you, but you keep hiding shit. Never mind that you were on Mythra’s side until a few days ago, you’re clearly hiding something major. Drivers and Blades aren’t the only people in a group who need to trust each other. Whatever it is you’re trying to hide, it’s not a good look for you.”

Ouch. He’s got a point. “Like you’re much better. All we know about you is that you’re a Blade, a powerful one, and that you want to go to Elysium. Aside from that, all I know about you is you apparently don’t sleep. It’s not normal, even for a Blade.”

“Healing broken bones in a day isn’t normal for a human, so I don’t want to hear it unless you can give me an explanation that’s not ‘I’m just a fast healer’. Maybe Rex, but did you really think I would buy that?”

“You know what else isn’t normal for a Blade?” Nia places a hand on her hip, determined to turn this around. “Getting injured, and those injuries staying. That’s not an Aegis thing. Not even a Blade thing.”

“They’re nothing. I just got bumped up a bit while we were breaking your ass out of jail.”

“And another thing. The burn on your face is the same as Rex’s was when I was healing it. Maybe having similar burns would normally make sense, but they’re the exact same. Can you explain that, or are you the only one immune to having to build trust around here?”

Malos opens his mouth to fire back but instead lunges for Nia. She yelps and sidesteps, but he grabs her hood and pulls her toward him with enough force that she stumbles and lands on the ground next to him. She rights herself, prepared to give him a piece of her mind, and whorls around to face him. The rage in her blood turns to ice as she sees the shadow looming over them.

Standing before them is a giant feris with a vicious snarl on its face. Once, Nia might’ve known instantly if the local Gormotti had a name for it, might have its name out of her mouth before she even registered it, but her focus now is on the weapons she doesn’t have on her belt. She’s got a few knives intended for basic things, but she doubts they’d even make a dent in the monster before it takes out a chunk of her arm.

Malos places himself between her and the feris with one fist clenched. He’s not got his sword, and Nia assumes it must be back at camp with Rex. It seemed sensible at the time, but now that they’re in a small bit of mortal danger, she can’t help but curse him for it. At least, not until she glances at Malos’s hand and sees an arguably more effective method of solving their little problem.

Rex might not be thrilled about the nature of Malos’s power, but Nia feels nothing but relief seeing the small sphere of darkness forming in Malos’s tensed hand. It might not be an ideal power, but she’d rather the feris die a gruesome death than her.

Malos never gets the chance to use it, though. Seconds later, Zenobia stands behind the Feris, the only warning given being a sudden breeze. She carries her axe effortlessly in one hand, eyes glinting with something distinctly dangerous and excited.

“Now what are you two up to on a walk like this?” Zenobia asks. “Early morning exercise?”

The feris turns on Zenobia. Even if the danger has been averted for Malos, he keeps his power of destruction on one hand and his eyes on the monster. It stalks towards Zenobia and lunges, but she merely sidesteps it and bashes it on the back with the end of her axe. It lets out a growl and whorls around to face her, but she’s hardly even focused on it.

Instead, Zenobia glances over her shoulder at the two. “Seriously though, wasn’t Nia supposed to be on watch? Aren’t the two of you a little far from camp?”

Nia shrugs. “There was something I had to confirm with Malos, and I thought it’d be better to ask him about it away from the others.”

“Fair enough,” Zenobia says, mirroring her shrug.

Malos lets the sphere disperse into the air, no longer considering the feris a threat now that Zenobia seems keen and equipped to handle it. “You’re really just going to leave it at that?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Zenobia says, “I’m curious as hell what you could possibly have to talk about that you walked this far from camp to do it—” –she grunts as she bludgeons the feris to the side— “—but the two of you are stubborn enough that I doubt even I could pry it out of either of you.”

Well. She’s right that Malos is particularly stubborn, at least.

It doesn’t feel right to respond to Zenobia. At least, not when she needs to focus on the enemy before her. Malos seems to have the same though, because the both of them stayed silent and watched as she continues to toy with the monster before her.

She eventually gets bored of it, however, and it’s not long before the monster’s head rolls after one swift, decisive movement from Zenobia. She looks over her shoulder with a twinkle in her eye that reads distinctly satisfied.

“Thanks for the entertainment there, you two. If I were you, I’d return to the camp, especially since you’re unarmed. Everyone else will be up soon, anyways.” Zenobia leans on the axe with one hand, like she didn’t just brutally kill a monster well-known enough around these parts to have a name that Nia swears she knows, she’s just got too much adrenaline to really think—

Zenobia’s right, though—the sun has risen properly, now, and the light dances over the plains gently as the wildlife begins stirring awake. Soon, it’ll be bright enough for Tora and Rex to wake up, and she really doesn’t want to try to explain away her early morning walk to more people.

“Yeah, let’s head back,” Malos says. He gives Nia a pointed glance that clearly says we’re not done here, and she nods in understanding.

She stops to thank Zenobia for saving them from the feris (the name ‘Bernard’ comes to mind now that she’s not on the verge of death) and trails after Malos. Zenobia stays behind, citing that she’s got a bit more hunting to handle this morning before she’s properly awake.

Nia doesn’t bother making conversation with Malos as he leads the way back to camp. She’ll need some time to find a better lie to cover up what he’s dangerously close to figuring out, if he hasn’t already, and contemplates some way to get him to listen to her, too.

She hopes he doesn’t think she’s about to just let his injuries go because they got attacked. She’s a healer, Architect’s sake, it’d be like a crime to let one of her travelling companions go untreated.

The thought sends a small smile across her face as they come across the camp. It might not be so bad to have companions, and like Rex said before he went to sleep last night, they do need her around. Maybe she could stand to join them after all.

Rex and Tora are awake, but focused on something to do with Poppi, so Nia crouches next to Dromarch. “What do you think about sticking with these guys for a while?” she asks quietly.

“I will follow wherever you go, my lady,” Dromarch says, bowing his head, “however… how did your conversation with Master Malos go?”

“I’m worried, to tell the truth, but we can talk more about it later.”

“Hey, you two!” Rex approaches them. “Tora knows someone who can help us get out of Gormott.” He pauses, and from his expression, Nia can tell that he’s choosing his next words carefully. “Have you made your decision?”

“Yeah,” Nia says, pushing herself to her feet. “Where’d you say this guy lives?”

“Over towards Greatspine Boundary. He apparently owns a shipyard out there.”

Nia nods slowly. “Sounds like a plan. Not like we can go back to town after all that, anyhow.”

“So then you’re going to come along with us. To Elysium, I mean.”

“Yeah,” she says. “Can’t hurt, right? At least, not much worse than staying here.”

He cracks a smile. “Great! We’ll be glad to have you on board.”

“Huh? Was Nia not staying with us?” Zenobia asks, appearing suddenly as usual.

Nia shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it. How’d your hunting go?”

Zenobia scoffs. “It was completely boring. After the tyrant I bagged that was attacking you and Malos, everything else was either really weak or totally not interested. It’s no fun fighting if your opponent’s not into it all the way.”

“Nia? You and Malos?” Rex raises a curious eyebrow. “Did I miss something?”

Nia withholds the cringe that threatens to break her composure. Can’t make it seem more suspicious than it already is, so she improvises. “I went out for a brief walk this morning to clear my head and asked him to come with me. You know, just in case something happened.”

“Well, my dear,” Azurda says, poking his head out of Rex’s helmet, “it sounds to me like something happened anyway.”

“Oh, it happened, alright,” Zenobia says cheerfully. “I got a good warmup this morning because they got attacked by a huge feris. He wasn’t much, but it was the best fight I’ve had since you let me help out with the Flamebringer yesterday.”

Zenobia seems like she’s going to turn this into a longer-winded story than Nia wants to deal with, so Nia tunes her out completely and looks for something else to do.

Nia’s eyes land on Malos. He seems rather busy cleaning up their campfire, and besides, she’d rather avoid him right now if she can. Zenobia’s still talking to Rex, so all that leaves is Tora and Poppi. Admittedly, she should get to know them better since they seem pretty keen on joining Rex in his travels.

She decides that it’s the best alternative, so she approaches them cautiously, racking her brain for a conversation-starter as she does so.

“Tora, right?” she asks as she approaches.

He looks up from Poppi’s arm, which he’s still tinkering with. He’d hardly stopped work on the artificial Blade long enough for her to get a proper look at his injuries the night before when she was tending to everyone. “That right. And friend is Nia.”

“Poppi also here!”

Nia sits on the log next to Poppi, watching as Tora messes with some screws. “Are you busy? Just figured I’d talk to you two while waiting for Zenobia to finish up her story time over there.”

“No, Tora happy to talk to friend while working on Poppi!”

Nia leans back on her elbows, studying Poppi carefully. “So, what’s the story with Poppi? I get that she’s an artificial Blade, but it can’t have been easy to build something like her.”

“That right!” Poppi says, placing her free hand on her hip proudly. “Poppi latest innovation in Nopon technology. Masterpon put great care in building Poppi, so Poppi can do everything Blade can, plus more.”

“Poppi is life’s work of Tora,” Tora continues, gently turning Poppi to the side so he can adjust some other part or screw or something. “But, Grampypon and Dadapon do most of work towards creation of Poppi’s ether furnace.”

“Ether furnace?”

“Poppi’s ether furnace is why Poppi can do Bladey things. Poppi can produce and process ether energy in chest like Blade.”

Tora puts the wrench in his wing down, wiping his forehead. “There! Poppi, please test functions of arm!”

Poppi smiles graciously at him, moving the arm in question carefully. “Arm moves with ease now, as expected of Masterpon.”

“Yay!” He bounces on his feet, turning to where Rex is still talking to Zenobia and Dromarch. “Rex-Rex! Tora and Poppi ready to leave for Unclepon’s shipyard now!”

Rex nods and waves a hand in acknowledgement, stopping to stretch before their band of travelers regroups.

“Does that mean everyone’s ready to go, now?” he asks as Nia lazily joins the group.

No one protests, so he grins widely and pulls something from his pocket—Nia thinks it’s some type of compass, but she’s almost afraid to ask. She’s not really interested in any more long-winded technical conversations, especially in the short span of time everyone’s actually been awake today.

After Rex tinkers with his compass some more, they set off for Umon’s shipyard. Nia falls silent as she follows, considering her upcoming conversation with Malos carefully. She’ll need a lot of thinking and a lot of luck if she wants this to end well.

~

Umon’s shipyard is nowhere near as impressive as Nia expects. She’s never really bothered coming out past Greatspine Boundary before—never had the need, especially given that this particular shipyard appears to be the only thing out here, other than a lot of very angry, very aggressive birds and a few bunnits.

The “shipyard” is more of a hut overlooking the Cloud Sea, just the right size to fit a single small titan ship in at a time, with some space outside for maybe one or two additional ships. To be fair, it’s the largest shipyard she’s seen in recent memory (not to mention that it’s the only shipyard she’s seen in recent memory), and it might even look nice if someone cleaned it up sometime.

Tora walks in the shack like he owns the place. Or maybe like his uncle owns the place. Nevertheless, Nia and the others follow him inside, but it soon becomes apparent that Umon simply… isn’t there. No one had seen anyone outside when they approached the building, so Tora calls out for him in the shack, empty except for their little group and the titan ship-in-progress in the center of the building.

“Unclepon! Unclepon Umon?” Tora calls out into the building. When no response comes, he frowns and looks up at Nia and the others like they might have some sort of explanation for this.

Nia shrugs. “Maybe he’s out. Guy can’t spend all his time out here, after all.”

“…I guess we’ll just have to wait for him here,” Rex suggests.

“Right. Poppi, initiate rest mode!” Tora says. Poppi nods before sitting right where she stands, her eyes temporarily dimming as she begins to rest. Tora… probably could have had her move someplace that’s not in the middle of the floor first.

Nia stretches, considering the thought. Tora probably had the right idea with just resting during this time. She finds a spot on the wall that’s not covered by furniture or anything and sits, legs outstretched.

“Think I’m going to get some rest, myself,” she explains to no one in particular, “since I was up early on watch ‘nd all.” As she speaks, Dromarch approaches and lays himself across her legs, resting his head on his paws. She leans against the wall and listens to the others planning how they’ll pass the time.

“Well, while we have the time, Malos,” Zenobia starts in a lilting tone, “we should spar outside! Get some training in!”

“Go spar with some of the birds out there. I’m sure they’ll fight you,” Malos responds, his voice carefully devoid of any semblance of interest.

“Oh come on,” she says, borderline whines, “you’ve gotta fight me sometime.”

“Do I now? I don’t recall ever agreeing to this.”

“You said you would if I—”

“--if you ever got to a certain level. You’re not there yet. Go work on yourself before trying to fight me.”

“If I may,” Gramps’s voice is added to the mix, “it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Rex to practice battling with one or both of you while we have this time.”

“Sounds good to me,” Rex says, “Zenobia?”

She sighs. “Fine. If Malos won’t fight me, then I guess I’ll have to make do. Come on, Rex, let’s go train.”

“Tora want to watch Rex-Rex fight!”
Soon, the shack falls into a comfortable quiet, and Nia drifts off, grateful for the chance to nap.

When Nia awakes, she’s staring an unfamiliar Nopon in the face. If not for Dromarch sleeping across her lap, she’d attack on instinct. He’s actually quite heavy, though, so she resorts to her next best action—she screams, alerting Poppi and Dromarch as the Nopon also screams.

It isn’t long before Tora, Malos, and the others come running to see what the commotion’s about. Tora takes one glance at the two of them before running up and placing himself between her and the stranger, and it finally registers to Nia that she might be the one who’s doing something weird here.

“Unclepon! This friend of Tora.”

“Tora? That you?” the strange Nopon asks, already significantly calmed. Nia feels calmer, too, now that she’s not reacting to some random stranger staring at her as she sleeps.

Tora flashes a smile. “Good to see Unclepon!”

“It is Tora! It has been many weeks since last saw Tora.”

Poppi, now officially out of rest mode, stands next to Tora with a curious look on her face. Dromarch takes that at his cue to stand and stretch, allowing Nia to get up off the floor.

“Yes, Tora very busy! Was finishing Grampypon’s and Dadapon’s work.”

“You don’t mean—artificial Blade?” Umon studies Poppi.

Poppi waves with her arm fully outstretched, leaning over as she does.

Nia can’t help but wonder whether Tora programmed her to move like that for a reason or if it was just because he thinks it’s cute. She hopes it’s the former.

“My name Poppi. Pleased to meet Unclepon of Masterpon.”

As Nia watches the conversation devolve into half-truths, she slowly sidesteps over to where Rex stands in the doorway. It’s not really ideal to get involved if she doesn’t have to.

“Why do I get the feeling this is just barely going to work out for us?” she whispers to him as she keeps her eyes on the Nopon. Tora’s floundering for some explanation to cover why he’s not just getting a ship in town like a sensible person would. Maybe someone not running from the military.

“Should we try to help Tora keep track of the lies he’s telling here?” Rex whispers back.

She considers it. For a long moment, she seriously considers helping out the little guy. “Nah, he’ll do well enough without us, right?”

“Yeah, probably.” Rex turns his attention to how the conversation’s going, and Nia takes the cue to pay attention as well.

“Umon does have a spare ship, however…” He rocks on his feet for a moment. “Umon just bring back last of ship ingredients. Will need time to finish work on it!”

“How long for ship to be ready?” Tora asks.

“Should take one hour! But if Tora and friends return in good condition, Umon is happy to let friends borrow for small boaty-jaunt!”

“Is okay if Tora and friends wait around area while Unclepon finishes ship?”

Umon nods. “That not problem. While friends wait, Tora must tell Umon more about Poppi. Artificial Blade great accomplishment! Umon never thought…”

As Umon and Tora speak, Nia takes the chance to tune them out and figure out what to do with the spare time she has before they depart for the World Tree.

Somehow, the thought makes her stomach sink, rather than flutter with the excitement you’d expect from such a lofty goal. She did agree to come with them, but… Somehow, she doesn’t feel like getting to Elysium will be as simple as find a boat to get to the World Tree, and then climb the thing. Something has to go wrong.

No use thinking about it now, she supposes. She decides to wait outside for some fresh air, and maybe with Dromarch’s help she’ll find some wild plants nearby that are safe to eat. Would be nice, given the way her stomach is growling at her from not having eaten anything substantial in…

When was the last time she ate again? The ardainians had given her a small plate of food when she was locked up, but it was hardly substantial, and before that it must’ve been nearly a day.

Dromarch follows her in her search for wild plants. It’ll be a faster solution to look for food rather than to think about when she last had any, and with any luck, the others’ll leave the two of them alone so she can talk to him properly about the situation with Malos.

They follow along the ridge of rocks, inspecting plants for any buries or wild vegetables wordlessly until Nia’s sure Rex and the others aren’t coming with her. The moment she sees them go the other way, she starts explaining the situation to Dromarch.

“I’m pretty sure Malos has figured out that I’m not like the others,” she says, running a gloved hand over the petals of a flower in the grass. Dawn Hydrangea. Useful for medicine, not so much for if you’re hungry. She moves on to other plants.

Dromarch paws at some flora. “Has he told you what he plans to do about it?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “We got attacked before we could get that far. But I couldn’t throw him off the idea.”

“What do you plan to do about it?” He uses his paw to knock a fruit down from a stalk absently.

She picks up the orange he rolls towards her with a smile, pocketing it to inspect the plant further for more. She should see if Malos knows how to turn these into her favorite food sometime, it’s been a bit too long since she’s had any.

“To be honest, I haven’t figured it out. He doesn’t seem to want the others to know about his issue with the wounds he’s been incurring for some reason, so maybe I could come to an agreement with him. You know, ‘I won’t tell if you won’t’ or… something.”

“Did you happen to talk to him about that, my lady?”

She sighs. “I tried, but we got interrupted before he could give any sort of response. I’ll bring it back up next time I get the chance. He acted like he wanted to continue the conversation, so…”

“Then, have you considered how you will explain the situation to him?”

“No, I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Well, now is as good a time as any to consider it.”

She clicks her tongue in annoyance. She knows better than anyone the magnitude of the situation she’s in, which is why she doesn’t know what to do.

“I don’t think I can get around telling him the truth. I decided to stay with these guys for now, but if I stay with them much longer, Malos might just tell the others about me before I can convince him otherwise.”

Dromarch shifts, searching a wider area. “Then perhaps it would be best for you to tell him yourself and request his silence on the matter.”

Honestly, Nia hates the idea. The key of the lecture he was trying to give her was about trusting them, and as hypocritical as he was in saying it, she doesn’t think he’ll be so willing to keep such a major secret hidden from the others. But if she doesn’t ask him not to talk, then there won’t be anything stopping him from telling Rex and the others…

Nia swallows her anxiety. “Yeah, maybe it would.” She’d just have to find the right words to say it to him, so that maybe he won’t out her secret to people she’d only just resolved herself to travelling with.

She falls into an easy silence with Dromarch and the plants, collecting enough food to stock for a day or so. The two eventually decide to return to the shipyard, food in tow, just in time to see Tora come outside looking for them. He certainly is a bouncy little Nopon.

“Friends! Ship finally ready for boaty-jaunt!”

“Really?” Rex shouts from nearby, where he’s been practicing alongside Malos and Zenobia.

“All right!” Zenobia calls. “What are we waiting for, then? Let’s get going!”

As Nia closes the gap between her and the shipyard, Rex, Zenobia, and Malos do the same. Soon, they’re all stood next to the ship, the mental pressure of their goal almost too much to bear.

Well, it probably is for Rex. Nia shrugs and steps on, quietly thanking Umon as she does. Dromarch, of course, follows.

“By the way, I got some food for everyone while I was waiting,” Nia says. “Hope everyone likes fruit.”

“We’ll live,” Malos says, accepting one as he joins her on the deck.

Rex does the same, smiling gratefully. “Thanks, Nia. And Umon, too.”

“Not a problem.” Nia shakes her head. “Dromarch and I were looking for food, and it didn’t seem right to leave the rest of you hungry if we could help it.” She really hadn’t been planning on sharing much, not with how hungry she still was, but with Dromarch’s help, there was more than enough.

After all, she was traveling with them now. It’d be rude, right?

She chooses to ignore the knowing look Dromarch gives her as the others join her on the ship and retreats into the cabin of the ship as they set off. The World Tree awaits.

~

The ship Umon lent them was reasonably comfortable. Rex finds himself at the helm the majority of the time, making sure that they’re really headed straight for the World Tree. No maps needed, no compass to guide their way.

It feels a little surreal to believe everything that had happened these past few days. Meeting Malos only to learn that everything he’d dreamed of for the world was really possible. And now, he was on a ship set for the World Tree, so that they might reach Elysium.

Nia had gone off somewhere, taking Dromarch with her without a word to anyone else since they departed. Malos is equally elusive, having disappeared soon after they set off. Tora has decided to stay with Poppi on the deck, watching the Cloud Sea and some minor titans pass by.

Gramps stretches out on the helm before Rex, perhaps also sore from their current setup. The extra weight pulling at his neck had seemed like nothing when Gramps first crawled into his helmet, but he can’t help but think it’s getting to be uncomfortable for the both of them. Rex swears he’s got a permanent bruise on his back from where the helmet keep hitting him with the added weight.

The World Tree looms over them now, so close that Rex can now see the chasm in the Cloud Sea separating them from its base. They’ll have to find a way to get across the chasm before they can even begin the climb.

Zenobia joins the two of them on deck. “So that’s it, isn’t it? The World Tree.”

“Yeah,” Rex says. “And at the top, Elysium.”

“You’ve talked to me about your dreams for Elysium before,” she says, eyes focused on the Tree, “but what does Malos want with it?”

Rex takes one hand off the wheel, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s sort of explained it to me, I think. I didn’t ask for more information at the time, but he mentioned that he’s trying to escape Mythra permanently. Something about how she’s… damaged, and she needs him to fix it.”

She nods slowly. This is probably the calmest she’s been since resonating with Rex.

“And you’re okay with him using you to get there?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I mean, we’re kind of using each other, aren’t we? And he’s saved my life twice now.”

“Twice? What was the second time?”

Rex taps the core crystal on his chest gently. She nods in understanding.

“I was wondering the story behind that. Thought it might have been the Rotbart situation, but I guess it makes more sense that it happened before.”

“Yeah, it was how I met him.” Rex’s hand remains over the purple ‘x’ as he struggles not to shudder at the memory. “I got… killed, and I woke up to find him, saying he could save me if I’d only take him to Elysium.”

“Just like that? You’re not worried he might be tricking you?” She doesn’t press for details about his death, which he’s thankful for.

“Nah, if he was tricking me, there were plenty opportunities to let me die before this. Besides, even you told me I need to trust him.”

She lets out a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I guess I did. Don’t lose that trust, okay?”

“I’ll try not to.” He glances over his shoulder at a noise—Malos strides out onto the deck, expression serious as ever.

“So, kid,” he says. “We’re here.”

“Let’s figure out how to cross that chasm, and then we’ll make it to Elysium, no probl—”

Rex’s words die in his throat at the sight of a dark mass that rises out of the Great Void. Night fell some time ago, but he doesn’t need the extra visibility to tell when something is big and decidedly unfriendly.

Malos seems to recognize the danger better than anyone else, shoving Rex out of the way and grabbing the wheel to turn the ship. “We’re leaving,” he barks.

“Wait, but we’re so close—”

Rex never finishes his protest. The beast, whose silhouette looks almost like a gigantic aspar, launches its tail at the ship, letting out a roar that shakes the titan ship nearly as much as the blow to its side.

Rex falls to the ground as the ship is sent off course. Malos can’t seem to turn the ship fast enough.

Rex does his best to steady himself as the ship’s tremors throw him, checking on everyone as best he can from where he is. Malos stands strong, pulling the wheel with the kind of expertise you only get with adrenaline. Zenobia, luckily, thought to grab Gramps when the ship began to shake, and Tora and Poppi both appear at a glance to be conscious and functional.

“We’re leaving,” Malos says firmly. “That’s not my artifice.”

“Your what?”

“Now’s not the time for questions! If we stay here, we’ll die. That’s all the information you need right now.”

Malos, as usual, is exactly right. Between the monster thrashing them away from the World Tree, and the additional obstacle that now rises firmly out of the Cloud Sea—a titan, not one Rex has seen before—all they can do is try to navigate away and stay on board.

This ship wasn’t made for tight maneuvers or outrunning whatever it was Malos called the monster. They narrowly avoid the monster’s attack, only to find that the strength of its movements have sent the Cloud Sea rushing and their ship tumbling.

The titan takes the opportunity in stride. It opens its massive maw, welcoming them in as if they’re nothing but a morsel to be inhaled. As the ship tumbles into the titan’s mouth, Rex and the others are thrown violently to the floor.

Rex can’t help but perform a cursory look at everyone else to make sure they’re okay. His thoughts stop on Nia and Dromarch, who are certainly having a hell of a time inside given they probably don’t know what’s going on, but then his eyes land on Malos, who’s finally given way to the relentless momentum of the ship.

He watches in almost horror as Malos’s head hits the floor. The impact is so hard that Rex can almost feel it. Maybe he’s lost cognizance of his movement at this point, because it feels real—pain blooming across his skull, vision blinding white and suffocating dark in the span of what must be less than a second.

Before he can register the hit to his own head that must surely have caused this, Rex passes out.

Chapter Text

Malos is just about tired of waking up to find that his Driver is nowhere to be found and that he’s covered in injuries that aren’t his. He’s got a head count on three of their number, leaving the other half of their group—Rex, Nia, Dromarch, and Azurda—nowhere in sight. The lack of light isn’t much helping his sight, to be fair.

From the way his muscles protest when he shifts to peer more closely through the darkness, it’s clear Rex had a rough landing. Every movement hurts, enough to be a serious annoyance. Bruises press against his armor, scrapes sting in annoying places. Not to mention his head screams in pain, almost blinding in its intensity. It’s hard to tell whether that pain is Rex’s or his own, or if maybe they’re compounding on each other.

As if his headache wasn’t bad enough, Zenobia shuffles awake nearby, pushing herself up and surveying the area. She’s no worse for the wear, thanks to the regenerative power that Blades normally have, but it’s clear the pain lingers with the way she groans in pain. The others are all still down, leaving him effectively alone with the most battle-crazy Blade he’s ever had the misfortune to meet.

He curses his luck as he stands. Maybe if he can find Nia and Dromarch, they can heal everyone and the others can bother each other, instead of him.

Malos tries to think back. Nia and Dromarch had been inside when the ship crashed, so they’re probably closer to the ship. What looks like its remains are silhouetted against the little light that comes in towards what must be the titan’s mouth.

Father, it’s so hard to see like this…

He pointedly ignores Zenobia as she gets her bearings. Maybe if he doesn’t speak to her, she’ll get the hint and not talk to him yet. If she starts asking him to fight again, he might just put her back out of consciousness.

He begins walking toward what he assumes is what’s left of the ship, making finding the group’s healer his goal. He doesn’t quite get far before Zenobia puts a nix to his ‘don’t talk and maybe she won’t either’ plan.

“Hey, Malos! Wait up!” She scampers up to him. As she approaches, it becomes easier to see Azurda’s unconscious form cradled in her arms carefully. “Where are you going?”

He heaves a sigh. Her voice is infinitely more irritating right now. “Nia and Dromarch are probably closer to the ship. I’m looking for them, because they’re a lot more useful to us awake right now than anyone else.”

“Ohh,” she says, nodding slowly. There’s this almost vacant look in her eyes as she processes it. “That’s smart! So, you’re looking for them. Who else are we missing?”

“Rex.” Maybe if he keeps his answers short, she won’t ask so many questions and this conversation can be over with faster.

“Wait, shouldn’t we look for Rex first?”

“He’s our Driver,” he answers, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re alive, aren’t you? So he’s alive.”

“Yeah, but…” She rocks on her heels for a moment. “You don’t think he’s hurt?”

He grunts. “If he is, it’s nothing life-threatening.”

Zenobia mumbles something that sounds awfully sassy under her breath, continuing to follow him. She even wades through the water with him, looking around for Nia and Dromarch.

“You really are some crazy powerful, crazy smart Aegis, huh?”

“What’s that?” he asks, not listening very intently as he wades to the remains of the ship’s trashed cabin.

She shrugs, following him. “I mean, you’re so quick to take the reins and get control of whatever the situation is. A really great leader, honestly. It’s hard to believe you’re not the most confident, powerful thing alive when you act so much like it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever given any indication that I’m not. The only one who can match me is Mythra, and not like she is now.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be a good match for you!” She grins, though it’s only barely visible in the dark.

“Yeah, keep dreaming, Zenobia.”

Malos stops before the remains of the cabin, which is surprisingly still very intact. There’s a few broken boards closing up just enough of the entrance to make it impossible for those inside to get out, and when he crouches down to peer in, he can’t see anything except the faint blue glow of ether.

“Are they in there?” Zenobia asks, leaning over him. He nods silently, grabbing at a board and steadying himself to rip it away. Once he’s pried it off with a grunt, he tosses it to the side, letting it land with a splash into the water.

Zenobia crouches beside him, peering into the impenetrable darkness with a squint. “Nia? Dromarch?”

There’s a shuffling from within the cabin, and the ether glow shifts with it. Nia’s voice, drenched in grogginess, filters through the darkness. “Whoever was steerin’ when all that went down is banned from it in the future.”

Zenobia laughs instantly. “Well, Malos, looks like you’re banned from steering our ships from here on out.”

He rolls his eyes. “The ship got attacked when we were approaching the World Tree. We’ve washed up in a titan. I can give you more details later, but we’ve got some injuries. Can you move?”

She grumbles, shifting a bit. There’s more movement, and then nothing. “Dromarch’s passed out on my lap. I can climb out myself once I can get him off me. You’ve already gotten everyone tracked down, yeah? Made sure no one’ll die if I take a minute or two?”

Zenobia has a triumphant smile on her face. “Mister Aegis here insisted on tracking down the healer first. We’ve no idea where Rex is, just that he’s alive for now.”

“Why don’t you two go track him down while Dromarch and I get moving?” Nia suggests.

Together? Malos wants to ask in disgust. Zenobia’s voice has been nothing but painful since he woke up. He really doubts she’ll shut up now.

“That sounds like a great idea. Come on, Malos, leave the girl to her Blade. Let’s see if we can’t find Rex in this dark cave, huh?” Zenobia straightens her back and turns, looking into the rest of the cave like she can see anything through it.

He sighs and stands, doing much of the same. “There’s a really obvious way to find him.”

Her hand finds her hip as she kicks up a breeze to float herself. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

He’s just about to bring his affinity link into existence when someone begins moving again. Azurda stretches on Zenobia’s shoulder before fluttering up into the air. “Good Architect, that was quite the experience!” He ruffles a bit.

“Oh, great! You’re awake!” Zenobia says. “Malos is too grumpy, come look for Rex with me.”

Azurda chuckles. “Well, I see you two are getting on well. All right then. Where to, Zenobia?”

“Malos seems to have a good idea of how to find Rex, so let’s leave that to him and go check on Tora and Poppi.”

“Lead the way, then.”

Azurda is some kind of gift from Father himself. He has to be. He and Zenobia go off into the darkness, leaving him behind, and he gets precious moments of quiet before starting his proper search for his Driver.

A moment’s focus blurs his vision—or has it been blurry this whole time?—but his affinity link flickers into existence, a gentle blue that pulls him further into the titan’s mouth. He follows the link, even as he struggles to maintain it.

The kid’s been working on his trust, but apparently, not enough. Maybe if Rex had been trying a little harder, Malos would be having an easier time of trying to keep the link from such a distance. Holding the link is only worsening his headache, though, so he memorizes the direction and walks, intermittently rekindling the link to Rex to make sure he’s going the right way.

Father, he hopes Tora stays down until this headache clears. He doesn’t think he can handle that Nopon’s voice right now.

Eventually, he does find Rex, who’s definitely worse for the wear. Malos knew he’d be—if he had a lower pain tolerance, he might not be moving around right now, either. He scoops up his Driver—better to bring him to Nia, rather than bring her to him—and winces. Boy’s got some messed up injuries right now, and the shift causes Malos’s own injuries to sting in response. He carries on and turns back around the other way, spotting Zenobia in the distance.

“Found him!”

To his surprise, Nia echoes back—“stay where you are and don’t move him. I’ll be right over to heal him.”

Malos wordlessly sets Rex back down, adjusting his position so it looks like he landed that way. He sits next to Rex, and when Nia calls out again to find him, not long after he hears Tora’s voice grate through the darkness, he re-activates the affinity link to guide her by its light.

“Alright, I’m on my way over.” She trudges over in a few minutes, crouching down next to Rex’s body, and Dromarch sits in the space beside her, watching dutifully. “Can you keep that link going? It’s hard to work in the dark.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He won’t mention how his head pounds in protest. He can handle it in silence.

She nods, carefully shifting Rex so that she can see his wounds, and leans in close. “Thanks. Don’t suppose you could tell me anything about his state right now.”

“He hit his head pretty hard, from the looks of it. All kinds of minor scrapes and bruises. Nothing broken that I can tell.”

“Right, got it. What about you?”

He pauses, taking a moment to properly understand the question. “I’m fine.”

“Really?”

Malos refuses to let her incredulous looks intimidate him. “Yeah. Really.”

Nia lets out a heavy sigh. “Right. Dromarch?”

Dromarch nods, and their affinity link blazes to life—a gold chain between them, illuminating the nearby area with its strong light.

The air crackles with a soothing energy, illuminating Nia further in a different, softer blue light that washes over her, then over Malos. The light soothes him, like a shoulder rub would, or maybe some really good food that he didn’t have to bust his ass to make for once.

“What are you doing? I said I was fine.”

“He’s probably got a concussion from when he hit his head. You do too, not to mention the rest of the injuries. You need healing, and then I’ll heal him. Now stop talking, I’m trying to work.”

He shuts up and lets her work her arts in silence. Her arts ebb away his headache, and soon his armor feels less uncomfortable to wear. When she’s done, she turns and gives Rex the same treatment, washing him over in light. His wounds close beneath the gentle aura, and Rex stirs awake in its glow.

He groans, pushing himself to sit up and look around in the darkness. “What… happened…?”

Nia gently, yet firmly, pushes him down, shaking her head. “You hit your head pretty hard when we crashed,” she says. “You’re going to get some rest so you can recover. We’re going to have to stick around here for the night, and then tomorrow you can try to pull the whole Aegis driver thing. No buts.”

“All right,” he says, shifting to adjust his comfort level. He removes his helmet from its vest, setting it beside him. “How’re you and the others holding up?”

“Fine, I had some troubles getting out of the cabin when we crashed, but I managed. Tora’s up and moving. Little fluffball had me thinking he was knocked out, but he was just napping.” She rolls her eyes. “He’s running maintenance on Poppi right now, and Zenobia’s over there making sure he doesn’t do anything too strenuous to aggravate his condition.”

“Gramps?”

“He’s fine. He’s resting over with Zenobia. Malos, Dromarch, and I are going to go looking for food and some dry wood to start a fire and get everyone fed after we move you closer to the others,” she says, adjusting her clothes with a scrunched nose. She’s still got soaked clothes from having been passed out in the water.

“Alright,” he says, moving again. Nia shoots him a pointed glare.

Nia clicks her tongue as the affinity link disappears as quickly as it came, her work having been finished for now. “Malos, can you carry him over to the others?”

He nods and scoops Rex up, despite his protests.

“I can walk!”

Malos grunts. “Yeah, but you shouldn’t. Don’t struggle, you’re making it harder for both of us.”

Rex listens and calms himself long enough for Malos to carry him to the others. Malos sets him down next to Poppi and turns to Zenobia. “Do me a favor and make sure he doesn’t move around too much. If any monsters come this way, you’ve got my permission to kill them quickly.”

She pumps her fist triumphantly, eyes lighting up. “Just send ‘em my way! Bonus points if they’re really strong!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna go hunt now.”

The light leaves her eyes just as quickly. “Wait, hold on, why can’t I be the one going hunting?”

But Malos is already walking away. “No. We’re going to have to carry a lot, and we need someone who can fight to stay here with the injured and protect them.”

She visibly deflates before crossing her arms and letting out a deep sigh. “Fine, whatever. Next time, you get to stay with the injured.”

“Am I now.” It’s not a question, and she doesn’t take it as one, turning to stew in her annoyance quietly for once.

“Since you three are going to go looking for food, here,” Rex says, shuffling around in his bag for something. After several moments, he produces a flashlight, which appears surprisingly unharmed. “It’s a bit wet, but, well, it’s a salvaging lamp, so it’s kind of made for that. You’ll need to be able to see, after all.”

“Right.” He accepts the lamp.

Aren’t you forgetting something? echoes in his brain, a shock of an old memory. An old, old memory.

“Thanks,” he says. It’s strange, to be thinking of his former travelling companions now. He thought he’d stopped dwelling on the past—he had five hundred years to, after all, and got more than a bit tired of only having the short time he spent with Addam to think about. He shakes it off, ignores the weird looks from the others, and turns on his heels to leave.

As he fiddles with the lamp to turn it on, he swears he hears Tora say, “did big scary just thank Rex-Rex?”

He’s feeling charitable. He ignores him.

~

Nia stands waiting for Malos at the cave entrance. She supposes he had to talk to Rex and the others, first—Zenobia can be pretty stubborn too, when she wants to be, and Malos could easily have made the mistake of telling her they were going hunting. She hopes he deters her from trying to join if he did. She’s kind of got to have an important conversation here.

A light slices through the darkness, blinding her for a moment. She hisses as it gets closer, revealing Malos at its source. Funny, a dark Blade being the source of light. Come to think of it, it’s weird that the Dark Aegis is the one who’s trying to do all the good. Even if he’s definitely not nice about it.

In fact, Malos is… kind of an asshole. He’s sassy, and rude, and doesn’t take anyone’s shit for longer than a second. The fact that he’s trying to save everyone seems a bit unbelievable, more so with every new interaction they have.

In contrast, Pyra was the epitome of kindness when Nia had been with Torna. Mythra, her “true” form, was ruthless, but she still carried this sense of caring about her. She’d said multiple times how their ultimate goal was to help the world, but now, Nia’s not quite sure what “help” meant for Mythra.

He grunts a greeting as he comes to a stop beside her. “The kid lent me his salvaging lamp so we can see a bit better.”

“I noticed,” she says, “you kind of blinded me with it, there.”

He nods, not offering any apology. To be frank, she’d be shocked if he did.

“Anyways, let’s get going. I’m tired, ‘dlike to rest a bit sooner rather than later.” She starts walking, Dromarch on her heels like always. Good old Dromarch. No matter what crazy shit happens, at least he’s a constant in her life.

“Right.” They walk further into the titan, over a rock bridge, scanning for anything that might be safe to burn or safe to eat. They avoid the monsters and avoid straying too far, and soon, Nia’s focus drifts back to her real goal for this little expedition.

Nia glances to where the sky should be, where there’s only the inner hide of the Titan and an awful lot of empty space. “What Titan d’you think this we landed on, anyway?” she wonders aloud.

“It looks different, but… this looks like Uraya. Not many titans like this one, with everything on the inside.”

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. He’s looking at the sky now, too. “You’ve been here before, then?”

He nods, just enough to notice. “I was awakened here.”

“Really?” She has to stop walking at that. “Wouldn’t have figured you for an Urayan.”

“Didn’t figure you for a Blade, either, but looks like we’ve both got some surprising facts about ourselves.”

Nia stumbles, any words dying in her throat, which suddenly feels notably dry. There’s a pause where no one says anything at all, and maybe it’s just Nia, but it’s pregnant with questions, fear—she has to break the silence, or she’ll never be able to breathe. “So you’ve figured it out, then.”

He nods in silence. She looks down at the ground, choosing not to meet his eyes. Not like it changes anything. He’s not even looking at her.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“What should I do about it?”

Dromarch presses into the side of her legs, a silent gesture of comfort. She crosses her arms across her chest, feeling incredibly small. “I-I don’t know. Usually people turn me in to whoever’s closest. Chase me down. Call me a cannibal.”

Malos seems almost confused by the idea. “You’re a flesh eater. I’ve never known a flesh eater who wanted to be, or liked the process. Think part of cannibalism is enjoying the eating humans part.”

His words are somehow more anxiety-inducing than comforting. “Yeah, but… I’m a freak of nature. An abomination.”

“Never met an actual abomination. People are assholes, but just because everyone’s saying it doesn’t make it right.” He shrugs and starts walking.

Nia tries to follow, but her legs refuse it. Sensing this, Dromarch lowers himself, and she climbs on his back. He trots to catch up with Malos, heavy paws hitting the ground with soft thuds.

“So then, you… never mind. Can you just, do me a favor, and not tell the others?” Her words falter as he gives her a look, one that’s probably just his face, but reads ‘are you fucking serious right now’.

“I can’t do that. You really think you can just hide something like this from everyone?”

The ether in her veins feels like ice all of a sudden. Not that her blood wasn’t running cold before, but, well, you know. It’s worse now. “Malos, please.”

“I get that you’re self-conscious or whatever, but you need to tell them, or I will.” His voice is firm, like always, like he’s never going to budge on anything. The stubbornness irks Nia in a way she can’t put into words right now, and if she weren’t in a really bad situation, she’d probably act on her annoyance.

She doesn’t have a plan, and being rude to him right now to prove a point won’t do anything to help her, so she just keeps talking without really thinking about the exact words.

…which is probably why the next words to leave her mouth shock her. “I’ll tell Rex everything,” she says. “About how you take on his injuries. How you’re weaker than he thinks you are. Than you think you are. I’ll tell the others, too.”

He has the gall to be taken aback for a moment, just a momentary touch of shock—a crack in the Aegis’s armor. Nia homes in and pounces on that crack.

“Look, we all have stuff we don’t want to talk about. You’re clearly trying to hide the fact that you have any flaws at all so no one worries about you, and I’m trying not to go back into hiding or even jail for the unforgiveable crime of existing.” She places a hand on his arm, gentle yet purposeful. “Maybe it wasn’t like this five hundred years ago, but now, people hate flesh eaters. They hate me. I can’t let the others find out, okay? So I’ll keep your secret, and you keep mine.”

Malos keeps silent. Architect, this guy is impossible to read. She keeps talking.

“Look, I’ll even sweeten the deal. When you or Rex get injured, I’ll heal you away from everyone so that you can hide it better and keep your little charade up. I know you want to seem like this impenetrable, infallible servant of the Architect or whatever, but you’re in a unique position. They don’t have to know.”

He glares. “I don’t like to keep secrets.”

“But they think you’re strong, right? And not that you’re not strong now, but you want to keep it the way it is now, or else you’d have already told Rex. You definitely wouldn’t be trying to hide it now. They don’t have to have any idea. You’ll be perfect, and I’ll be normal.”

There’s a moment of silence where he seems to be considering the proposal. “I’ll think about it.”

She takes a deep breath. That’s not a ‘no’. “Take your time. I can wait.” That’s a lie—the prospect of spending time around their group knowing it could crumble at any moment is devastating to her—but he doesn’t need to know that. Plans for her escape when he decides to give away her secret anyways already rush through her head.

“If I may interrupt, My Lady, perhaps the two of you should get around to your reason for being out here, lest our travelling companions raise suspicions,” Dromarch suggests.

“Right. Malos, can you handle hunting by yourself? I can fight fine, but my thing’s more in the wood collecting part of things.”

“You’ll need the light to see, though. We should stick together.”

She tries to hide how much that idea makes her feel sick with anxiety right now. “I guess you’re right.” She climbs off Dromarch’s back, feeling the strength in her legs return, and the two follow Malos as he lights the way further into Uraya.

They finish their work in silence and return to where Tora, Rex, and the others have set up camp, complete with some boards and the like for seating. Nia hopes that was all Zenobia’s doing, or she’ll be giving certain patients a few more injuries to work around. That’s a promise.

Malos focuses on the fire while she cleans the meat they’ve brought back. She doesn’t feel like talking, and luckily, it seems that no one is going to force her. Dromarch checks in on the others’ states before returning to Nia’s side, resting dutifully there.

She finishes preparing the meat just in time as Malos steps back from the sizable fire he’s set up. She impales some meat on a stick she’d whittled at anxiously during their search for firewood and begins roasting some meat for the others.

“Nia, got any of those oranges left from yesterday?” Malos asks.

She shakes her head. “Any that were left after everyone ate were pretty much bruised to death during the crash. You wouldn’t want to eat them, and besides, they’re all floating in the water now.”

“Shame. Would’ve gone well with all this meat.” As he speaks, he spears a chunk of meat of his own to cook.

Zenobia takes the cue to join in on their kebab session. “If you don’t want it, Malos, I’ll take it.”

“No, that’s fine.”

Soon, everyone’s sat around the fire, making food for themselves, save for Poppi, who’s still undergoing maintenance, and Gramps, whose arms are a bit too short and too small for the task. Rex passes him several morsels as the night passes.

Gramps thanks him quietly, and everyone falls into a silent rhythm before Zenobia decides to break it.

“So, Malos. You said you were gonna tell us about the whole artifice deal once we got everyone together.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He bites into a chunk of meat, chewing impossibly slowly. When he finally swallows, he lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine. An artifice is a type of servant to the Aegis. I have one, Gargoyle—there were more, before the Aegis war destroyed most of them. Mythra had some, too—Sirens, she called them. I saw to it that every single one she called forth was destroyed. They’re strong, stronger than any one person could hope to handle alone. Me, I can just use my power to destroy them.”

He pauses, a non-present look in his eyes as he stares into the fire. “That creature that attacked us at the World Tree... it’s not my artifice, and to my knowledge, it’s not Mythra’s, either.”

“Whose is it, then?” Nia asks.

“Beats me. Maybe Mythra got a new artifice, somehow. Maybe the Architect sees that Pyra woman as separate from Mythra, though they seem to occupy the same core.” Malos shrugs. “I don’t have any data or memories of it anywhere. Whoever it belongs to, they don’t like us, or they don’t want anyone coming close to the World Tree. If we wanted to take it down, we’d need more skill, coordination, and manpower than we’re going to have for a while, or I’m going to need the ability to destroy it using my own powers.”

“Are they alive?” Rex asks. He’s got a bit of a grimace on his face.

Malos shakes his head. “Not to my knowledge. They’re kind of like Poppi, but they never speak, or do anything more lifelike—empty shells, who only exist to follow the orders their master gives them. There’s a way to control them, though, if you’re not its master, but hell if I know where the key to that is.”

“What key does friend need?” Tora asks.

“It’s hazy, but I don’t remember seeing any sort of control core on it when it attacked us. It might be separate from its body, which means we could find it and take control without it nearly killing us in the process.”

“I’ve been travelling around the Cloud Sea for some time while you were sleeping, Malos,” Gramps speaks up, “and I’m quite certain that the chasm that artifice came from has been there longer than Mythra and her friends have been acting. Is it possible for someone other than an Aegis to use a control core?”

Malos glances at him, then back to the fire. His eyes seem to be flicking back and forth, like he’s reading words Nia and the others can’t see, before he comes up with an answer. “It’s possible any Blade could control it. I don’t know about humans, though. But if someone else has the core, that poses a bigger problem, because we have no way of finding out where that is.”

“Well,” Rex says, stretching his arms out in front of him. “Maybe we can find someone who knows something about that chasm and the artifice who might be able to give us an idea. If this ‘control core’ is being used to keep people from reachin’ the World Tree, it’s probably in the hands of some politician, right?”

Zenobia lets out a groan. “This sounds like way too much work. Why don’t we just get some more people helping us, maybe procure a nice warship, and kill the thing?”

“Like I said, it’s not exactly easy to kill one of these. It’d be easy to destroy with my power, but you saw it. It can fly, and that’s something I can’t do anymore.”

“‘Anymore’?” Zenobia presses, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face. “What, don’t tell me one of your artifices used to be, like, some kind of flying machine or something.”

“He did use something like that, during the last battle of the Aegis war,” Gramps mentions. “If I recall correctly, however, it suffered a great deal of damage when he and Mythra went head-to-head.”

“The point is, I don’t have that anymore.” Malos sets the stick he’d been cooking meat with on the ground. “Besides, it’s too destructive. I could kill an artifice with it, and completely destroy the World Tree behind it.”

“…So then we fight it normally,” Zenobia says. She’s got the look on her face that she had when she’d rescued Nia and Malos from the monster back in Gormott—a dangerous excitement in her eyes, determination written in the furrowing of her brows. “It’ll be a real challenge! It seems like fun!”

“Like I said earlier, you’re free to try it if you’ve got a death wish.”

“Well, regardless, we’ll have to get some more information about the artifice once we find a town. We still need to figure out where to go from here, after all, once we figure out where ‘here’ is.”

“We’re in Uraya,” Malos answers automatically. “At least, I’m pretty sure. Got the same kind of environment, and I don’t know many titans whose inhabitants are all on the inside instead of on their backs.”

“Right. Never been to Uraya. Not much of a salvaging scene.” Rex shrugs. “Probably because it’s a bit hard to salvage from the inside of a titan.”

Does he ever think about anything other than salvaging?

“By the way, Rex, how are you feeling?” Nia asks, not wanting to get into the salvaging conversation again. “I was thinking you’d be able to move around properly by tomorrow, but I’m not keen on letting you fight in your current state.”

“Why not?” Rex asks.

She rolls her eyes. “How’s your head feeling? Have you even tried to do anything harder than cooking meat over the fire?”

“Point taken.”

“To be honest, I don’t think it can be avoided unless we stay in one place, and even with my healing, I’d still recommend resting for at least a day before getting back into the action. Arts can only do so much for you.”

“I can cover him!” Zenobia offers. “The more fighting I get to do, the better, anyways!”

“As long as it’s a monster, and not a Driver, who attacks us,” Malos adds. “You can’t just kill people.”

She lets out a bark of laughter. “I can handle people too, you know! You saw me when we were rescuing Nia, I can knock people out perfectly fine!”

“You are so confident in yourself, it’s annoying.”

“And you’re really rude!”

“In any case,” Rex says, “I think I’ll be fine tomorrow, Nia. I’ll take it easy, and then we’ll take a proper rest the next town we get to. Get some nice rooms at the inn, and all that.”

“I guess it’ll have to do. Tora, how are you and Poppi?”

“Tora have a few more checks to do on Poppi! Most of maintenance at this point just buffing out scratches and checking functions, though. Tora not too hurt from crash, either.”

Nia sighs. “Alright, fine, I’ll clear both of you to travel again tomorrow. But Rex, you need to be careful about your concussion. Malos, you need to be careful for him.”

“Why not Zenobia? She’s more into this fighting thing than I am.”

“You know why,” she fires back. Confused eyes land on her. They seem to ask what she knows that they don’t—wary, Nia elaborates with a lie. “Zenobia’s faster. More suited to an advance guard. Besides, do you really think she’d settle for being the guard?”

Malos accepts the answer, and so do the others, and Nia relaxes. If she can just keep all this up, maybe everything will turn out all right. Yet, the knowledge that Malos knows about her gnaws at her brain, and the smiles she gives with her sass are pulled back before they can properly reach her eyes.

She hates to admit it, but she really might have to run after all.

~

As the fire dies down, Tora returns to working on Poppi, and the others begin to settle down. Zenobia takes watch for the night, and Nia curls up next to Dromarch. Malos finds the least objectional place to sleep, Rex curls up on the ground, and Azurda rests on top of him. No one’s really comfortable, but they all eventually find it within themselves to sleep, leaving Zenobia on her own and bored out of her mind.

She was specifically instructed not to go off hunting or anything, so she doesn’t. She sits. And she waits. And she keeps her time until eventually it’s just short of time to wake up Tora and put him on watch, and her mind feels numb. All she can do is decompress and try to figure out some way to get Malos to fight her.

It's not fair that he completely refuses to acknowledge her. She’s plenty strong, plenty skilled. She just wants a challenge for once. Is that too much to ask?

Zenobia’s pulled from her thoughts when Nia stirs awake of her own accord. At first, Zenobia thinks she’s just going for a short walk nearby to clear her head, but then she shakes Dromarch awake and grabs her share of food and weapons before trying to sneak away.

“What are you doing?” Zenobia asks, her voice loud enough to be heard, but hardly loud enough to be considered more than a hushed whisper. Best not to wake the others yet.

Nia, cat that she is, freezes, her ears sticking straight up in alarm. “Don’t… don’t worry about it. Just going for a walk.”

“With your only Blade? And all your weapons?”

Nia is so suspicious, it’s painful. “I just… need to clear my head. It’s not safe to walk around alone at night, after all, and cats are a bit nocturnal, so…”

“Unless I’m mistaken, being Gormotti doesn’t mean you just act like a cat. It’s just the ears and some better vision, right?”

“Well, I can’t fault you for knowing a thing or two.” Nia shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m just going for a walk.”

Zenobia sighs. It’s pretty clear what’s going on, given Nia’s past actions. The only question now is why she’s doing this. “If you’re leaving again, you should talk to the others first. I can’t be expected to be the one to break the news.”

“I’m not… it’s just…” Nia’s completely at a loss now, judging by her flattened ears and borderline miserable expression. “I can’t… explain to any of you why I’m leaving. It’s not that I don’t have a reason, I have a good one, but I just can’t...”

“That sounds like the type of excuse given by someone who doesn’t actually have a good reason. I can’t really stop you without fighting you, and while I’d love a good sparring session, I think you’d rather avoid it. But, wouldn’t you prefer to think this through a little more? There’s a reason you decided to come with us, isn’t there?”

Nia avoids her eyes, pulling her hood up. “There is, but if you knew my reason, you’d understand.”

“Then tell me. You don’t even have to tell the others.”

“Zenobia, I… really can’t do that.”

Zenobia rocks on her feet for a moment, before subtly controlling the wind so she can float. She crosses her legs. “Does it have anything to do with you and Malos?”

“Huh?” The ears flick up again, shuffling her hood.

Zenobia grins. “I knew there was something between you two. Early morning walks around the Gormotti plains, going off to gather lumber and hunt for food together…”

“It’s not like that!” Nia says, perhaps a bit too loud. She knows it, too, glancing at the sleeping forms of the others. No one shifts or moves any more than they normally do in their sleep, so she turns back to Zenobia. “Look, it does have to do with Malos, but it’s nothing like that.”

“I don’t know,” Zenobia muses, “I can see it. A big, strong, Aegis, with chiseled features and all those muscles…” This is too fun, even if Nia looks ready to stab her right now.

“Zenobia, for the love of the Architect, stop. He just… figured something out, ‘sall. I’d rather it be kept secret, really rather he not tell anyone, and he’s not too keen on that idea. If I leave now, I can get a head start on dealing with the consequences.”

Okay, maybe it’s best to lay off right now. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. But, what could he possibly have figured out that you have to leave?”

“Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s bad enough that Malos knows. I’ve got a lot of secrets, some of them less acceptable than others, and it’s in everyone’s best interest that they stay that way.”

“I get it. Do you really think he’ll tell us, though?”

Nia frowns, turning away. “That’s what we talked about when getting everything earlier. He doesn’t seem keen on the idea of not telling everyone. Trust and all that. Don’t think he realizes you can trust people without telling them your worst secrets.”

“You don’t think you’re being cowardly?” Maybe it’s a rude question, but she genuinely wants to know.

Nia shrugs. “I’ve ran away most of my life. Doesn’t make sense to stop now.”

“My lady…” Dromarch has the saddest expression an actual cat can muster, but says no more. It seems to be all he needs to say, given the way Nia smiles down at him, however broken, and pats his head.

“You know, Nia,” Zenobia says, floating closer to her. “You’re a good kid. I wish you’d stay with us. Maybe we could help you, teach you how to get through life without running.”

“I’d like that,” she says, and the sentence hangs. There’s a ‘but’ there, but Nia doesn’t continue, prompting Zenobia to ask for it.

Zenobia leans forward. “But…?”

“I wouldn’t know how to stop running if I tried.”

“You stopped for a day or two, didn’t you?”

Nia sighs. “No, not really. I was just running from different people, then.”

“So run with us,” Zenobia says simply. “We don’t have to be more people you run away from.”

There’s pain and something sad in Nia’s eyes, and Zenobia feels suddenly curious as to what the hell kind of life she’s led until now.

“My lady,” Dromarch begins, “perhaps it would do you some good to stay. Just for another few days. The Urayan wilderness is not too friendly to strangers traveling alone.”

Nia’s shoulders drop, and she nods slowly, perhaps feeling a bit defeated. “…fine. I can stay for a bit longer.” She places down her weapons and returns the food, walking over to the spot she’d been sleeping in. “I hope we don’t turn out to regret this.”

Zenobia watches her for a moment, a frown etched on her face. She’d like to find a way to get Nia to join them permanently, but…

For now, she wakes Tora for his shift, and sleeps on it. Maybe they can talk more about it tomorrow.

~

Rex wakes up to soreness throughout his body. Apparently Nia’s healing arts don’t do much of anything when you’re stuck sleeping on the ground afterwards. His head feels remarkably better, though, so at the very least he can say he’s not in the worst state he could be in.

Tora was supposed to be on watch this morning, but he’s asleep next to Poppi, who appears to be back to functioning—she smiles at Rex and waves in the most Poppi-like way she can without disturbing her masterpon.

“Masterpon fixed Poppi and was very tired after, put Poppi on watch to get more sleepy-sleepy. Good morning, Rex-rex.”

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing sleep from his eyes, “good morning.” He looks around the camp—the fire, now only a few smoldering embers, must have died down during the night. The others are handling cleanup and apparently scavenging the titan ship wreckage.

Looks like he was the last one to wake, then, aside from Tora. “Poppi, could you wake Tora up for us? We’re going to get going soon.”

“Understood, Rex-rex. Initiating special ‘Wake Up, Masterpon!’ protocol.”

In the moment Rex glances away to pick up his helmet, he hears an unmistakable slap!, followed by Tora’s disgruntled cry.

“Meh-meh-meh! Poppi! What wake Masterpon for?”

“Rex-rex requested that Masterpon wake up so friends can leave soon.”

Tora’s none too happy, but he gets up, leaving Rex to figure out where to go from here. “Thanks, Poppi. Make sure he stays awake, would you?”

He approaches Nia and Dromarch, who are wading through water at the titan’s mouth and looking through the debris. “G’morning, you two.” He barely waits for them to nod in acknowledgement of his greeting. “Don’t suppose you happened to see a town or anything when you were out scavenging with Malos last night?”

“Cutting right to the chase this morning, I see,” Nia responds, yawning. “But no, if there’s a town nearby, we didn’t see it. Visibility was pretty low when we were out there, anyway, and we didn’t go too far.”

“Got it. Figured I’d ask before we set out for the day.”

“We’re heading out soon, then?”

Rex nods. “Think so, yeah. Get moving early, maybe we can find a town by nightfall and not have to sleep outside tonight.”

“It’d be nice to sleep in a bed for a change, yeah. Dromarch’s got fur, but there’s only so much fur can do for comfort.” Nia stretches her arms slowly, letting out another yawn. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I hadn’t slept at all, honestly. I’m about done looking through the debris here, so I’m ready to leave when everyone else is.”

Everyone else is ready about as quickly—they meet up with little to show for their scavenging, and Zenobia and Nia lead the charge on their way further into Uraya, hopefully to a village or town with a respectable inn.

At this point, though, Rex would take an unrespectable inn, so long as everyone had beds to sleep in tonight. The gentle caress of something soft to hold his body, maybe even a blanket, no one having to stay up to keep watch… No waking up to rocks poking his back…

It’s the closest to Elysium he can get right now.

Gramps nestles into his helmet as they trek through the Urayan wilderness, and maybe it’s because no one slept well, but no one seems willing to make conversation. The walk is quiet and uneventful, with only a few attempts from monsters to try and take them down. With Zenobia leading the way, though, it’s hardly an event.

It’s not until they enter a large cavern that they see anyone outside their group. A hulking man with tanned, scarred skin suddenly drops in front of their group from the land bridge above, and moments later, a large human-like, bird-like Blade covered in orange feathers lands just behind him.

There’s four other figures on the land bridge, and they follow the first man’s movements—two more Drivers, and two more Blades. They flank the first man with grins on their faces, and there’s something menacing about them.

“Well, what have we here?” the center man asks, looking over their group with a raised eyebrow. His eyes linger in the space above Rex—it takes Rex a moment to realize he’s looking directly at Malos.

Rex nearly shudders, reaching for Malos’s—his—sword on instinct. There’s a certain greed on this man’s face, the kind of greed Rex saw on the face of the consul. It’s different, but when the stranger draws his weapons, the intention is clear.

“This won’t be very fun for you, kid,” the man says. “It’s probably for the best that you hand over the Aegis now.”

Rex draws the sword, assuming a battle stance. “Like I’d let you.”

Chapter Text

“Come on, small fry, leave someone like the Aegis to a guy who can actually handle it.”

“You’re weak. Your constitution, the way you carry yourself, your confidence… I only need to look at you to tell you’re not fit to be the Aegis’s Driver.”

Malos kind of agrees with the men that have appeared before him and his motley crew of misfit Drivers and almost-Drivers. Rex is pretty scrawny, it’s true, and he could definitely be a bit less… fifteen. Granted, it’s true that most, maybe all of his current shortcomings are because he’s a new Driver given more responsibility than he probably thought he’d ever have, but he’s still weak.

They’ll have to work on that later.

“You realize that I choose who my Driver is?” Malos asks, giving the central man a once-over. He’s been in his share of fights, with just as many scars as he has muscles, and he carries an interesting weapon, no doubt provided by the Blade that flaps its wings behind him. The balance of the ether is all thrown off, but it’s not that hard to tell that it’s a wind-type Blade before him.

The first man is flanked by two more, some cronies who very visibly have less experience and skill. What they appear to lack there, must be made up for in loyalty—they stand proudly, ready to fight at a moment’s notice. Both have their own Blades, as well.

“And why wouldn’t you choose to go with the boss?” the right hand man asks. “He’s got more than what you need in a Driver.”

“That’s my decision,” Malos says, irritation climbing slowly. He mutters something under his breath to the kid—“Zenobia won’t be a great match against the guy in the center. Wind versus wind. The other two Blades…”

He looks them over. The first is a dark-skinned woman with a long ponytail and a frosty glare. She’s also got some spikes of ice around her feet—bingo. “You can take the risk with the one in blue. She’s ice element. You can try to take out the Drivers one by one, or we can split the workload with Nia and Tora. Zenobia’s pretty keen to fight on her own, though.”

“Got it. What about that third Blade?”

He barely has to look at her to figure out her element. “Ether cannon user, definitely dark element. She’ll be a bit better at taking my attacks. I’d put Tora up to it if we’re splitting the workload.”

Rex opens his mouth to say something, but the words don’t quite make it out of his mouth—a blast of wind brushes past him, knocking him off balance. Malos steadies him, shooting a glare at the source. The central man has one arm raised to the sky, holding a feathered scythe in each hand.

“Did you really think we’d let you strategize?” he says. “No, kid, you don’t get that time. Play nice, and hand over the Aegis, or we fight. What’ll it be?”

Rex nods in determination, steadying his grip on the sword in his hands. Zenobia instantly takes that as her cue to draw her axe. The others follow suit, and Rex grits his teeth. “I made a promise to Malos, and I’m not really planning on breaking it anytime soon.”

The man smiles and laughs heartily. “I like the sound of that. Yew, Zuo, you know the drill! And leave the scrappy little Aegis’s Driver to me!”

For the man’s massive size, he moves rather fast. The affinity link between Malos and Rex barely has time to flicker into existence before it’s drowned out. The golden link between the attacker and his Blade is fast and bright, and it’s followed instantly

Rex blocks it with Malos’s sword—Malos recalls it had a name once, one that never mattered much when in his and Addam’s hands. He stays vigilant, funneling ether through the link as best as he can. It’s been getting easier to maintain the link between him and Rex, less like forcing a waterfall through a straw. Less like overwhelming the link with more ether than it’ll ever be able to take.

Rex is pretty occupied, so Malos turns to bark orders. “Zenobia! How do you feel about a little one-on-one?”

She turns with a gleeful look on her face. “Right now? Sure!”

“Not me, idiot. Go after the ice Blade. You can take Driver and Blade out according to Rex’s preferences, right?”

She has the audacity to look disappointed. “Well, yeah…”

He gets it, but still, best to act how Rex prefers it. “Father, just deal with it. Nia, Tora, that leaves you on the other!”

Nia, who’s locked in a power struggle with the ice Driver and his Blade’s lance, the crossing of Dromarch’s rings being the only thing protecting her, nods. “Right, let me just stop being attacked long enough to switch targets—"

Zenobia’s winds rush past her, followed by Zenobia herself, bringing her axe down on the lance. Nia takes the chance to roll out of the way, spotting the dark Driver and making a beeline towards him.

“Hey, buddy! I’m your new sparring partner!” Zenobia cheers as she takes Nia’s place in combat. “Don’t hold back, all right?”

Malos turns back to Rex and the wind user, just in time to step in and shield a particularly hefty blow from reaching Rex. He’s moving more slowly today—aftereffects of the concussion, most likely. Honestly, Malos is still recovering, too, so he can’t fault the kid this time. (Just this time.)

Malos can’t place it quite yet, but something feels different about this man’s attacks. It’s almost like he’s just sparring…

“Kid, I’m ready!” Malos barks. “Let me know when!”

Rex nods. “Now’s fine!” he calls, tossing the sword in the air moments after landing a blow. Malos catches it effortlessly, putting himself into the thick of combat. His sword locks with the scythe for a moment, just long enough for Malos to be convinced. He grins, and lets out a burst of ether with the swing of his blade.

I’ll let the kid use this as a learning experience. He turns back over his shoulder and offers no explanation, only a nod. “I’m with you.”

Rex smiles and nods back, and moves to grab the sword’s handle. Malos prepares the attack, allowing ether to channel into the weapon freely. When Rex grabs on, they bring the sword down together, sending a line of dark ether straight at the man.

In an instant, though, the stranger’s Blade is between them, blocking the blow with an ether shield which shatters on impact with their attack.

“Damn,” Rex says, and Malos backs off to his usual position in battle, keeping a wary eye out for Rex and funneling ether to him. The more he does, the easier it feels, and for just a moment, the link looks tinted with gold.

Rex keeps his focus on the battle at hand, dodging at many attacks as he gives. He uses one of his own arts, one he said Azurda taught him—fires his grappling hook right past the man’s face, hoping to catch him off guard, and immediately swings. (He realizes he maybe hasn’t been working with his Driver on actually using his weapon.)

The man doesn’t bat an eyelid, letting loose an art of his own, surrounding Rex in a torrent of wind. “You’re too slow, kid,” the man says, voice gravelly and haughty. “How about you actually try hitting me, instead of relying on some fancy tricks?”

Rex lets out a growl, which might be intimidating if he weren’t so scrawny-looking. “What d’you know?”

“More than you could hope to, kid. You haven’t put a scratch on me yet!” His next move is too tricky for Rex to block and too fast for him to dodge. The scythe digs into Rex’s shoulder, leaving a medium-depth cut that has Rex crying out. Malos can’t help but grit his teeth as the pain blooms in his own shoulder.

“Nia, your job!” Malos barks. He’s certain to keep his face straight, his condition hidden, as he glances over at her.

Nia nods and continues the attack she’s in the middle of administering. “Tora, Dromarch, cover me!”

In the meantime, while Nia prepares her healing art, Malos grabs the sword and steps in, going blade-to-blade with the man to protect Rex. A blue light washes over him and Rex both not long after, and the pain in his shoulder ebbs under its pressure.

“Let me know when you’re good to go, Rex,” Malos says, and Rex pulls his gloved hand away from the wound. It’s closed—not perfectly healed, not completely, but not bleeding or angrily protesting his movements—so he gives Malos the go ahead.

Malos returns the sword to him with one efficient movement, and Rex assumes a battle stance once again. “Thanks, Nia,” Rex calls over his shoulder.

“Thank me when we’re done with this, yeah?”

Rex’s new approach seems to be a flurry of ether-heavy attacks—bolt after bolt of darkness sent roaring towards his adversary. He’s going so fast, even Malos is struggling to keep up. “How’s this for too slow?” Rex taunts. Malos’s breath quickens—it’s becoming more and more difficult to breathe and to pull the ether. He has to stop it.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Malos says, abruptly cutting the affinity link. His breath is shortened, his body exhausted—kid sure knows how to overload a Blade.

Rex, however, doesn’t seem to understand what’s happening, swinging the sword still. The man blocks it effortlessly. “Malos? What’re you doing?”

“Don’t you get it, kid?” the stranger asks, holding both weapons up in the air. “Yew, Zuo, that’s enough.”

Like they were stopped by some divine force, the other two men instantly relent on their attacks, and in their confusion, Zenobia, Nia, and Tora stop their own attacks. “What’s going on?” Zenobia asks, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Thanks for letting me take a whack at the Aegis there!” the man says. He hooks his scythes on his belt with a grin.

Malos nods. “Kid needed the experience. Speaking of,” he turns to Rex, “you’re gonna have to start paying attention to your Blades’ limits. If I hadn’t cut the link there, you would have exhausted the ether I could get to you. Even I’d have trouble standing after the amount you were using.”

“Exhausted?” Rex echoes, lowering the sword.

The man takes this as his opportunity. “You’re so green, it hurts. Blades can only do so much at once. If you use your Blade like that, you’ll even reach the Aegis’s limits after long enough.”

“I… have no idea what’s going on,” Nia says.

“This was never a fight to take the Aegis,” Malos explains. “There’s a lot you can hear at the crossing of blades, if you know how to listen. From the beginning, he didn’t have the killing intent, or the malice, necessary to be willing to kill a boy for a Blade, and his attacks were more like sparring than a fight to the death.”

The man laughs heartily. “Exactly what I’d expect from the Aegis. Name’s Vandham. This is Yew—” he nods to the man with the ice Blade— “—and Zuo.” He nods to the other with an equal amount of respect. “Blades are Roc, Perun, and Azami. You lot can introduce yourselves on the way to town, if you’re going our way.”

Rex slumps a bit now that he’s no longer locked in combat. “S-sure, we’re heading your way, if ‘your way’ is the nearest village.”

“Right then. We’ll take you to Garfont, show you around, the works,” Yew says.

The group converges, and Vandham and his Blade begin leading the walk to this ‘Garfont’. On the way, their group introduces themselves, and Vandham imparts a decent amount of the Driver basics to Rex. Thank Father, too, because Malos was not wanting to put up with teaching the kid.

~

Turns out they weren’t too far from Garfont Village. Rex walks next to Vandham, even as Nia casts maybe too many healing Arts on the way over everyone involved. Rex is thankful for it—her arts soothe the ache in his shoulder, and what little aftereffects there were from his concussion fade even more each time.

Garfont is a cozy little village in what Vandham and his friends have confirmed to be Uraya. The houses here are strange, like tents, but more… solid. Kids of every race chase each other around the center of the village, and there’s an awful lot of Drivers hanging around. Every time he turns his head, he sees another Blade accompanying someone.

“Is this a merc village?” Nia asks. She seems to have picked up on the same thing.

“Just about. The village sprouted up around our little group here. Garfont village, named for the Garfont mercenaries.” Yew—Rex thinks his name was Yew—has a prideful smile as he talks about it.

“Boss here leads the group,” Zuo adds.

“We take in children displaced or orphaned by war and tragedy,” a Blade, Perun, says. “For all the reputation mercenaries have, Garfont is one of those that works against that reputation.”

“These kids are all war orphans and refugees?” Rex asks, looking over them again. Now that he’s heard it, he does see the signs of it—the way the kids carry themselves, the way he used to, back when everything was new and scary and his parents were gone. He’d found a new home quickly, in fact, instantly, never even had time to grieve—these kids, though, they’ve had their share of grief.

He smiles warmly. He’s never been a fan of war, a bit less of mercenaries, but at least these guys seem to be making the best out of their situation.

“Do the kids join your group when they grow up?” he asks.

“Some do, yeah,” Vandham answers. “Just as many grow up to be tailors, or bakers, or merchants. Even some salvagers in the lot. We’re taking them in to help them, not to raise proper mercenaries.”

“Good,” Rex says, “good.”

“Got a bunch of good eggs, here,” Nia comments. She sounds about as warm as Rex feels at the thought of all this.

Yew snickers. “If you want good eggs, we’ll have to take you to Vargel Tavern.”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” Malos says. “Been a while since any of these kids ate anything proper.”

Zenobia shrugs. “I don’t know, dinner last night was pretty good.”

“That’s because you’re a meathead.” Malos doesn’t even try to hide his amusement.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m going to fight you for that comment alone. This isn’t even about fun anymore.” Zenobia readies her axe. “Come on, Malos, let’s do this.”

“Pass,” Malos says, striding past her without a second glance.

Rex can’t help but smile. “Glad to see you two are getting along.”

Zenobia whorls around to face him, glare on her face. “We’re not! He’s being mean!”

“That’s just what Malos is like, though,” Rex says. “Best not to take it personal.”

“He’s right, you know,” Nia adds, a wry grin on her face. “Now come on, we got to talking about food. Vandham, could you tell us how to get to the tavern?”

He laughs at the group’s antics before responding. “You lot are a riot. Come on, I’ll treat all of you for a good battle fought.”

Vandham takes them to Vargel Tavern, an outdoor place with a bar and some tables set out under a roof with no walls around, and true to his word, he buys food and drink for everyone present from their group, complete with a beer for himself. Tora, Poppi, Dromarch, and Zenobia sit at one table, while Vandham, Rex, Malos, Nia, and Gramps sit at the other.

“So, what’s the Aegis and his Driver doin’ out here in Uraya? Travelling Alrest now that you’ve got firepower by your side?” Vandham asks after taking a long swig of the mug of beer before him.

Rex shifts in his seat. “We were headed to the World Tree. Malos and I both have our reasons for going to Elysium, you see, and Malos says it’s up there, at the top of the Tree…”

“Wait, let me guess,” Vandham says, “that thing what made the Great Void didn’t like you gettin’ so close, did he?”

“How’d you guess?” Malos asks, his tone dry. He drinks from his own mug of beer, and eats a plate of something leafy. Whatever it is, it’s made of ingredients native to Uraya—stupid, of course it is—and completely foreign to Rex, save for what looks like sumpkin sprinkled in.

Vandham laughs. “No one seems to know where that thing came from, but it’s been there a good while. Attacks any ships that try to get close to the world tree, and if you believe old legends, ate the Cloud Sea itself to make that big chasm at its base.”

“Has it always been there?” Nia asks.

“Far as I can remember, yeah. Anyone who tries to climb the World Tree ends up dead or drowned. You’re lucky everyone survived it.”

“Think we only survived because a certain titan happened to eat us when we went to escape. That thing wasn’t around when I was last awake. At least, not active.” Malos leans on the table with both elbows.

“What makes you say that?” Rex tilts his head, furrowing his brows as he looks at Malos.

The Aegis takes a bite of his… salad… before answering. “That void in the Cloud Sea wasn’t there when I was with Addam, and like I told all of you, that thing’s an artifice. If it were Mythra’s, she’d have used it during the Aegis war. If she knew about it, she would have done everything in her power to get her hands on it. But that artifice was never mentioned by anyone on Alrest before I woke up again now, and if Mythra used it at all, she was pretty set on keeping it out of my knowledge.”

“If it’s not Mythra’s and it’s not yours, whose do you think it is?”

“My guess is it has something to do with that Pyra form Mythra’s moving around in. I can’t say anything for certain, but if this ‘Pyra’ really is a different person from Mythra, then maybe she counts as a third Aegis.”

“From what I’ve seen of the both of ‘em,” Nia says, “Pyra’s not just a different look for Mythra. Their personalities are completely different. The only thing they’ve got in common is that broken core crystal and their goal. Memories too, probably.”

Rex nods. “When I met Pyra, she was warm, gentle. But she had this… ice in her. It wasn’t obvious at first, but when she tested me, I could feel something off about her. I didn’t think anything of it, figured it was just sheer power. But when I fought against Mythra… their eyes were different. Mythra’s were nothing but cold, pure, hatred.”

Malos scoffs. “It’s just a mask, kid. Don’t let her fool you.”

“I’m serious!” He leans forward, hands on the table. “They’re not even close to acting like the same person. I really do think they’re different from each other.”

“In any case,” Nia says, clearing her throat, “unless we can figure out how to deal with that artifice, we can’t climb the World Tree. Is that right?”

“Right,” Malos says. “If we can kill it, that’s one thing, but it’d be stupid to try. Even if I can destroy whatever I touch, that thing can fly. I’d have to be able to get to it to kill it, and unless I’ve forgotten something, I can’t fly. We’ll have to find some other way to deal with it.”

“Someone’s climbed the World Tree before,” Vandham says. “Ages ago. Got a buddy, Cole, in the capitol. He’s real old. Probably old enough to know the guy who climbed it.”

Perfect! Someone who might know how to get around the artifice! “Could you tell us where to find him?”

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll introduce you. Got some business in Fonsa Myma anyways.”

“Really? You’d do that?”

Vandham nods. “It’ll be good to catch up with the old coot. Besides, kid, someone’s gotta teach you how to be a proper Driver. I’ll give you some more tips along the way.”

“Might be nice,” Rex says, explicitly not taking offense to the idea that he needs to be taught. He went into this whole ‘Aegis Driver’ thing knowing nothing, after all.

“I can teach the rest of you, too. Give you a few lessons in working together as a team of Drivers, being more effective in battle. You’ve got some communication skills, yeah, but you’re not working together at all.” He pauses, takes another long drink, before he continues speaking.

“Gonna be honest with ya, Rex, you’ve got a real special Blade here. Every Driver worth his salt knows about the Aegis, and once they figure out you have him, they’ll start coming for you more aggressively. You’ll need to be able to rely on your friends here to help you, and pick friends that you can trust goin’ forward.”

“You’re not the first person who’s attacked us to get to Malos,” Nia says. “Couple of people back in Gormott went after him, for sure.”

“A lot’ll probably be driven away because he looks strong, and more because they’ve heard his reputation. But just as many will come after you for that reason alone. If you three Drivers can’t fight effectively together, and they can’t rely on their Blades, it won’t be long before someone comes for you that you won’t be able to defeat.”

The words sober Rex and everyone else at the table. Rex, however, is determined to remain optimistic. “I know Malos can handle anyone that comes for us.”

“He shouldn’t have to handle all of it,” Vandham says. The statement is simple, but it provides a valid point. “You want to get to Elysium, but relying on your Blades and depending on them are completely different. A Blade is only as good as the Driver it’s bonded to. You’re gonna have to put in some effort, kid.”

“He’s right, you know,” Gramps adds. “The Driver is just as important as the Blade.”

“So then I’ll get stronger. Learn how to be a proper Driver, and then be one.”

“That’s not enough, kid,” Malos says. “Hate to say it, but you can’t just be a ‘proper’ Driver. You’ll have to become an amazing one.”

“What?”

Vandham sets down his now empty mug. “What Malos means is that you’re up against more than the average Driver. You need to be able to be better than the average Driver, or someone might actually kill you.”

“Alright, so teach me then,” Rex says. “I’ll be the best Driver Alrest has ever seen, but I can’t do it alone, so…”

Vandham smiles. “That’s more like it! Come on, I wanna see what you can do in battle. The rest of you come, too.” He turns to face the other table. “Come on, all of you.”

“But-but Tora not done eating tasty sausage yet!”

Poppi gives an exasperated look. “Masterpon, that fourth plate of tasty sausage. Maybe best that you stop now.”

Zenobia grabs Tora by the scruff of his neck as she stands and picks him up. “Come on now, Tora. We’ve got other things to do than eat and talk.”

“Meh-meh! Put Tora down!”

Tora eventually gives up and goes along with it, and their little group follows Vandham out to Garfont’s gate. To everyone’s confusion, they’re joined by Perun.

“Wasn’t Perun Yew’s Blade?” Nia asks.

“I am, yes,” she answers. “Vandham requests that I accompany him on occasion, for my less battle-relevant purposes.”

“You’ll see why she’s needed later,” Vandham says.

No one has any further objections, so Vandham and Perun lead the way across the land bridge from before. There’s a cavern leading further into the titan, and they climb through it, following several paths uphill until they reach a clearing with an open view of the central portion of Uraya.

It’s there that Vandham stops, pointing out the lone ardun standing on the plateau. It towers over everyone in their group—the only notable exceptions being Malos and Vandham himself. It’s not noticed them, merely grazing lazily on the grass of the plateau.

“Y’ever tried working on combos with your friends here, Rex?”

He thinks about it, but the answer comes pretty quickly. “No, not really. Maybe once or twice, but not in any great detail.”

“Well, it’s time to start thinking about ‘em. Let me see that grappling hook of yours,” he says. “Nia, you’re experienced. You know about breaking?”

“Don’t need to worry about me, Vandham,” she replies, reaching for her rings. Before they’re even in her hands, her affinity link with Dromarch blares to life like it’s second nature. Rex can’t help but wonder how long she’s been with Dromarch that it’s so simple for them—his link with Malos has only ever been a faint blue, when it existed at all.

Vandham grins as Rex hands him the grappling hook. “Then if you’ll do the honors of breaking this fella for me.”

“Sure, not a problem,” she says, shifting into a more battle-appropriate posture. It looks almost as second-nature to her as her affinity with Dromarch—must be easier than breathing, sometimes. “Dromarch, you know the drill.”

“As always, my lady,” he says, bowing his head and following her into battle. It’s hard to tell exactly what she does next, but something in the way she attacks the ardun—a flurry of attacks, each fast-moving and well-placed, by the looks of it—causes it to stagger on its feet. It looks like it might fall, even.

“Broken!” Nia calls over her shoulder, leaping back in tandem with Dromarch’s leap forward. He catches her on his back effortlessly, clearing the area to give Vandham a clear shot.

As soon as he has one, he fires at the ardun’s feet, flicking his wrist at just the right time. The cable wraps around the ardun’s unsteady legs. The moment it seems secure, he pulls taut, sending the ardun crashing to the ground from its unsteady legs.

Before Rex can fully process what’s been done in front of him, Vandham hands the grappling hook back to him. “That anchor shot of yours can be good on its own, but you try that, and you’ll be able to knock opponents off your feet. They can’t fight like that, and it’ll take time for them to get up. With the right Blades and weapons, you can come in and send ‘em flyin’, too, and then smash them back into the ground.”

“Oh!” Zenobia whizzes past them, a flurry of wind as she readies her axe. “I can launch them!” As if to punctuate her sentence, she sweeps up from below the ardun, sending it launching into the air, and the way the wind whips around them seems to indicate she’s using her wind to keep it in the air longer.

“Different Blades can do different things. Maybe that Aegis of yours has a heavy enough hand to smash them, maybe your Nopon friend can topple them. It’s all about how you think, and how you use your weapons. I want you to practice that trick I showed you with your anchor with Nia’s help. That alone will give you a huge edge in battle.”

Rex nods, affixing the anchor to his wrist just as the ardun crashes to the ground with gravity’s help. After a few moments, it stands on its feet again, now sufficiently pissed, and charges at Rex. Rex responds by tossing his sword to Malos, who catches it effortlessly and puts up a shield to stop the beast.

“Over here, big guy! Rex, you ready?” Nia rides in on Dromarch, fully prepared and in her element.

“Ready!”

“Communication, that’s good!” Vandham stands off to the side, arms crossed as he watches the fight.

Nia draws the ardun’s attention away, sliding off Dromarch’s back in one fluid motion. As Rex watches her move, he can’t help but think she’s a bit more catlike than she’d like to admit. She’s fast, and agile, and it’s not long before the ardun is unsteadied yet again.

Rex takes a deep breath, and takes the shot with the anchor as soon as Nia backs away. Hold for a moment… and flick your wrist in the direction you need the hook to go. He focuses on imitating how Vandham did it, and when he sees the cord wrap several times around the ardun’s feet, he grounds his feet, flexes his toes to extend the spikes in his soles, and pulls with all his might.

“That’s it!” Vandham says as the ardun crashes to the ground. Zenobia flies in again, launching the ardun… and Malos? Malos saunters up with disinterest before bringing his sword straight down on the suspended ardun, sending it crashing brutally into the ground. “Yeah, you lot have got it down, no problem. I’m impressed!”

“I’m sure you’ve seen a lot better fighting, what with the Garfont mercs and all,” Rex says, retracting the anchor line as he speaks. “Zenobia, could you… put it out of its misery?”

“On it!” Rex doesn’t have to look to know how fast she responded to that request—the ardun lets out one last cry, cut short almost instantly.

“Thanks.”

“Try not to downplay yourself, kid. You’re still green, but it took me years to learn the trick I just taught you. You saw it once and figured it out, which is pretty damn amazing.” He places a hand on Rex’s shoulder, a gesture that feels strangely comforting.

Rex can’t quite believe the words Vandham is saying. “Really? Years?”

“Yeah, years. Everyone was green, once. Keep learning that quickly, and you just might make it to Elysium.”

Rex can’t help but smile broadly at the thought. “Then we’ll have to practice, won’t we? I’m sure there’s plenty of creatures out there to practice on along the way to Fonsa Myma. Nia, Tora, you up for it?”

“Yeah,” Nia says, placing one hand on her hip. “Can’t hurt.”

“Tora fine with it! But… can’t help but feel like Tora not very helpful.” Tora’s shoulders drop.

“It true that masterpon not do anything in demonstration,” Poppi says, causing Tora’s expression to sink, “but masterpon plenty helpful! Need not be so sad.”

“Yeah, furrypon,” Vandham says, “we’ll figure out what you can do with that Blade of yours next chance we get to practice.”

“Poppi’s right, Tora, you’ve got your strengths,” Nia says, visibly refraining from completing her sentence. Is she actually biting her tongue right now?

Rex decides to speak up. “You built Poppi, after all. The world’s first artificial Blade. No one who can do that is useless.”

“Mehmeh… friends right. Many thanks!” Like that, Tora is back to his usual self.

Poppi leans over like she’s sighing, visibly exasperated. “Masterpon switch moods too quickly.”

“Well then, let’s haul this back to the village,” Vandham says.

“Haul?” Rex asks. What are they hauling?

He stops next to the corpse of the ardun—Architect, Zenobia beheaded it—and pats one of its legs. “Waste of good meat to let it rot here. An ardun this size could make lots of rations for our mercs. You didn’t think I’d teach you all this for nothing, did you?”

“Well…”

“Yep, this is about what I expected. Alright, well, the sooner we get it back to camp, the sooner we can rest and eat dinner, right?” Nia asks, producing one of her knives. “We clean it here to make it easier?”

“Atta girl,” Vandham says. “Came prepared with a few good sacks to carry the meat in. Didn’t think we’d come across one this big, though. We’ll fill up what we can, and leave the rest for scavengers.” Vandham tosses the bags on the ground for filling up freely.

“I get it. You brought Perun along because she’s an ice Blade,” Malos says.

“Yeah, you get it,” Vandham says. “Freezing the meat helps keep it lasting longer, so I bring her along for hunting missions if she’s not busy.”

“I don’t mind,” Perun says, taking the large chunk of meat Vandham passes to her and coating it in a thin layer of frost before sliding it into the first bag. “It’s always nice to find use around the village, and it’s going to a great cause.”

Nia passes out knives from the sheaths on her belt, and soon, everyone is working in a peaceable silence next to each other to clean as much of the ardun as they can reasonably carry back themselves.

As Rex works on cleaning the meat per Vandham’s instructions, he catches himself smiling.

He’d been thinking when he woke up to Nia healing him that they’d hit quite the snag, but…

Maybe this whole thing was for the best.

Chapter Text

It’s quite the trek back to Garfont. Everyone’s lugging at least two full bags of ice cold meat, save for Tora, who has only one, and Poppi, who’s carrying three to make up for her masterpon’s slack. They make it back without incident, though, and dinner is lively and leaves the group feeling energized.

After, Vandham takes Rex to teach the boy about how to turn the meat they brought back into rations for travel, and Malos tags along, as the resident (and reluctant) chef.

The day seems to be dragging on for Nia. It’s hard to tell the time, with the sky being a mere shadow of the kind of sky you can see over Gormott, but given they’ve just had dinner, she assumes it’s getting late. She feels energized, yet painfully restless, her mind racing with thoughts of where to go from here.

She really wants to stay. She wants to support this whole ordeal—call her childish, but all that stuff Rex said about a better world, finding a way for there to be no more need for wars or fighting… She wants to believe in that dream, but…

There really is no choice but to run, huh.

Nia isn’t given the chance to plan much—Tora approaches her, drill shield in furry hand. “Nia! Tora want to learn how to be better Driver!”

“Eh?” Nia looks at him with a raised eyebrow and raised ears. “That’s good, Tora. Glad to hear it.”

“Would be very happy if friend could teach Tora how to be better fightypon.”

Ooh, that’s what’s happening. “Why don’t you ask Zenobia to help you? She loves fighting.”

“Zenobia is Blade, not Driver!” Tora frowns. “And Nia is good-good Driver. Knows more than Rex-Rex, and fights so easy! Tora want to be Driver like Nia.”

Nia hides a smile. “Well, glad to hear you’ve got some faith in me. All right, I can teach you. But I’m going to have to get a good look at how you fight. Go get Poppi and Zenobia while I handle something.”

“What Nia going to do?”

“I’m going to go ask that Vandham guy if there’s any place we can use to spar.”

Tora’s wings spread out behind him in a panic. “S-spar? Nia and Tora going to fight?”

Nia smiles almost wickedly. “No, you’re going to fight Zenobia. I’m going to watch so I can see where you need to improve.”

“Meh-meh-meh… Tora not so sure about this…”

“You’ll be fine,” she says with a laugh. “I can’t help you if I can’t observe how you fight, after all.”

“Meh… Tora will go get Zenobia, then…”

“Good, good. Then I’ll go ask Vandham.”

Tora bounds off to go ask Zenobia while Nia meanders over to where Rex, Malos, and Vandham are. She finds them next to a cooking pot near the center of the village. “Hey, Vandham,” she says as she approaches, “sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got a small question.”

“What’s that?” he asks, looking up from his work.

“Got any place Tora and I could use to spar? Little guy wants to work on his fighting.”

“There’s a training field right that way.” He points, and Nia follows it with her eyes. “Might be a guy or two training right now, but it should be open for use, so long as nothing gets destroyed.”

“We shouldn’t mess anything up, I just need to look more closely at how he fights. Thanks!”

Nia finds Tora, who’s collected Zenobia and Poppi, and it’s not long before she’s got Tora trying his damnedest to fight decently against Zenobia in the training field. Zenobia understands her purpose in this situation, which is incredibly helpful, given that Tora’s not already on the ground.

The more she watches Tora, though, the more she’s actually a bit amazed, in the worst way possible. The fact that he lasted at all when they fought against the Special Inquisitor can be attributed entirely to the fact that his weapon is a giant, hardy shield and that he appears to have the endurance of a brog—his movements are clumsy, ineffective, unpracticed.

She can see how he was able to stand up to Dughall, that was mostly just buying time for Rex and Malos anyway, but Vandham’s words to Rex before were absolutely spot on. Tora, too, is going to have to improve faster than any average Driver, or Rex and Malos will never be able to make it to Elysium.

“Alright, stop.”

Zenobia stops, and Tora falls forward, unable to stop the momentum of the attack he was attempting to land. He lands on his face with a muffled noise. Poppi rights him with an expressionless face. “Meh-meh?”

“Tora, can you tell me how you fight?”

Tora tilts his head, lowering the shield and placing it on the ground. “Meh? Tora hit enemies with drill shield very hard. Hard hit hurts enemy. Mostly use it to draw attention and block attacks, though.”

Bingo. “Right. You’re trying to hit harder instead of smarter.”

“What problem with that?”

Poppi tilts her head now. “Hitting hard not key to winning?”

Nia’s hands find their way to her own hips, balled fists, as she shifts her weight and sighs. “Hitting hard is important, yeah, but Tora, you’re smart. Look at Poppi. She’s an amazing piece of technology, she’s got her own personality and functions exactly like a natural Blade. And you built her. So when you’re fighting, you need to use those brains, and think of ways to hurt your enemy.”

“Tora not sure he understands,” he says. “Malos plenty strong and scary, and all he do is hit enemy very hard. Why that not work for Tora and Poppi, too?”

“You can’t just… Look, if you hit an enemy haphazardly, and you hit them where they’re strongest, you’re not going to be able to do much of anything. But if you hit where they’re weaker, and keep hitting in the same spot, you’ll be able to do a lot more, a lot faster. You might even be able to knock someone off their feet, which’ll make them a lot easier for all of us to hit.”

Zenobia leans on the handle of her axe with a smile. “Nia’s right. Malos looks like he’s just hitting the enemy really hard, but if you can find a way to throw them off, or if you can figure out what works, you’re going to do a lot more to your opponent than if you’re just focused on trying to hit them at all.”

“So… Tora should try focusing on how to hit the enemy.”

Poppi smiles. “Masterpon smart, but not very fighty-smart.”

“For starters, your shield has that drill that comes out the center, right?”

Tora nods. “That right.”

“And you know how earlier, Vandham was talking about Driver combos, and taught Rex to topple enemies with his grappling hook?”

Another nod.

“Why don’t you try doing something like that with your shield?”

“Tora cannot shoot anchor like Rex-Rex, though…”

Nia smiles. “Tora doesn’t, I mean, you don’t need to. Zenobia, mind if we try something on you?” Damn noponspeak is starting to infiltrate her brain.

She shakes her head. “No, not at all. I can take it.”

Nia grabs her rings with a smile, slipping into battle stance. “Alright then. Tora, when I give you the go ahead, try knocking Zenobia over with your shield.”

With a nod from Zenobia, Nia, careful not to funnel any ether into her rings, launches into combat. It’s a conscious act to not compensate for Dromarch’s absence as she moves fluidly around Zenobia. The last thing she needs is to garner more suspicion before she leaves.

Once she’s close enough, she doesn’t bother with any arts. She aims high with one ring, making her movement obvious—Zenobia sees this, and dodges away. The ring barely brushes past her nose, but that’s fine. Nia wasn’t really trying to hit with the first attack anyways.

She sweeps low with her other ring, bringing it around behind Zenobia’s leg. It catches right behind her knee, and Zenobia, operating off a slight high from avoiding the feint, falls off balance, desperately trying to right herself.

“Broken! Tora, now!” she says, backing away to let Tora work.

Tora stares blankly for a moment. Then, finally, he seems to get an idea. “Poppi! Remember how Rex-Rex and Malos like to fight by passing weapon?”

“Yes, masterpon?”

Tora’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “Tora want to try that now. Zenobia much too tall for Tora to hit high and knock over, but Poppi taller and can fly! So Tora want Poppi to take shield, fly up, and hit Zenobia near head to topple!”

“Understood, masterpon,” Poppi says, her jets sparking to life in her feet. Tora throws his shield in the air, and Poppi catches it, executing Tora’s orders perfectly. Zenobia is thrown to the ground by the force of Poppi, and lands next to Nia with a proud grin.

Nia’s eyes light up. “Perfect! It’s not exactly the usual style of battle, but it doesn’t need to be, right?” She stops to help Zenobia up, pulling her to her feet. “We can practice that more with Rex and Vandham when we leave for Fonsa Myma.”

“Tora did something good?”

“I think so, furrypon,” Vandham’s proud voice interrupts as he enters the training ground. “I see you’re making progress, Nia, Tora.”

“Nia taught Tora to think different about how Tora fight!”

Nia rolls her eyes. “He was just trying to hit really hard. Sure, that may work for the average Driver, but sooner or later we’d run into a place where just hitting hard won’t do a thing. Figured it was best to put a stop to that now.”

“Probably for the best, yeah. You let them carry along too long with bad habits and they just get harder to break. What little I saw, though, looks like you’re teaching him an older fighting style.”

“Tora just think about what Rex-Rex do when fighting! Friend Nia only teach Tora to think more about fighty style!”

Nia stifles a laugh. “He’s got a long way to go, too, but sure, use him as an example. Just don’t follow him too closely, alright?” Hopefully Rex gets some decent advice and training once she leaves. At least the Blades seem to know what they’re doing. Zenobia’ll have to take up the gauntlet of teaching everyone after Nia’s gone, it looks like.

“Well, we already beat up Zenobia, so I think I’m gonna call this training session a night and go for a walk,” Nia says, reattaching her rings to her belt. “Gotta properly clean my knives and all that.”

Zenobia has a glint in her eye, curiosity sparking. “Going for a walk alone? Aren’t you going to bring Dromarch with you?” She leans forward, tilting her head to one side.

“Shouldn’t walk around alone around here. Been hearing tales of bandits and core crystal hunters, lately,” Vandham says. “You might be safer from Torna without your Blade around, actually, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Torna, you say…” Nia represses a shiver. “Are they hanging around Uraya now?”

Vandham’s eyes hold a weight to them that turns Nia’s stomach. “Couple of missions I sent men out on that no one came back from. Their corpses were found, but not a core crystal between ‘em. Lost too many good men to them.” He looks far away as he continues. “My point is, they could be. We won’t know for a few days after they arrive whether Torna’s here or not.”

She tries to remember what their plans were, but realizes too quickly that they could be anywhere. Akhos could already know where they are, if he wanted. “If they’re not already in Uraya, they probably will be soon.” All the more reason to get a plan to get out faster.

They’ve got to be. It’s the only explanation for why they didn’t do anything in Gormott. Why would they waste the energy, when Akhos and Obrona are able to find them anywhere?

She takes a deep breath, tracks down Dromarch, and goes for a walk.

~

Nia crouches in the soft sand on the riverbank, leaning over the water anxiously. Maybe she’s biased, but she’s always felt like water is the most healing element of them all. She dips the first of three knives into the water as Dromarch curls up in the sand and gets to work decompressing her thoughts properly.

The first thing that occurs to her as she works ardun blood off the blade is how easy it would be to just go. They could walk to Fonsa Myma, get some gold from hunting and selling meat and hide in town, and eventually get herself a ticket on a ship going anywhere but here.

She considers asking Dromarch what he thinks of the situation, especially given everything they know. They’ve got a better chance of surviving Torna coming for her if they stick with Rex and the others, sure, but they’ve also got a much better chance of running into them at all.

She puts down the first knife and reaches for the second. It’s tough, coming to a decision, and she’s just about to break her comfortable silence when the air around her seems to spark, and Dromarch raises his head in alarm.

She looks up, too, just in time to see a man in a blue set of armor land in front of her gracefully, followed by a Blade with wings and a helmet which covers her eyes. The familiarity in Nia’s eyes almost hurts as she looks at the two, trying to assess the situation.

The Blade’s wings lower, sparking with remnants of static as she giggles. “Did you miss us, Nia?”

“Obrona. Akhos.” She nods to each and pushes herself to her feet, grabbing the smaller knife she’d placed to the side earlier.

“I see the traitor has gone off on her own,” Akhos says in greeting. He doesn’t draw the swords at his waist, choosing only to straighten his posture like a beast sizing up its prey. “Are you planning on returning to your Aegis and his friends? Or will you be betraying them, as well?”

She lowers her gaze. The electricity in the ether must have just been to announce himself. He would do something like that. Pompous bastard.

“She plays such a good villain!” Obrona taunts in the background.

Nia glowers, eyes set in a mistrusting glare. “That’s none of your concern, and I haven’t betrayed anyone.”

Akhos chuckles. “Do they know your big plot twist yet?”

“My plot twist?”

“It must be convenient,” he continues, “to hide who you are whenever it’s convenient. You do know what’ll happen when they find out, don’t you?”

“They won’t,” she says, gritting her teeth.

He chuckles with a wry grin. “Oh, to live in your reality. You really think there’s nothing stopping me from simply telling them at my convenience. I hadn’t thought you to be so naïve, Nia.”

“You wouldn’t,” she says, but her voice falters. There’s just about nothing Akhos wouldn’t do if he threatened to.

“I believe you already know well enough what I wouldn’t do. But, we could strike a deal… That is, unless you don’t mind your new friends knowing your past.”

Fists clench, teeth grit, as Nia’s figurative hackles raise further. She nearly hisses under the pressure of the situation. But if she’s ever to trust her travelling companions enough for them to know who she is, they’ll learn that information on her terms.

Fists unclench, a deep breath releases, ears fold back as Nia comes to a decision. “What do you want me to do?”

“Oh, Nia, I knew you would make the right decision. It’s simple enough; you withhold what you know about us, where we’re located, our abilities, and I won’t tell your companions about you.”

Right. Just don’t tell them anything. She can do that.

Obrona giggles, a hand raising to cover her mouth. “We’ll know if you warn them about us,” she says. “If they react too well, if they’re not surprised enough…”

“I got it, okay? I won’t warn anyone about you or the rest of Torna, and they won’t find out about me. You can leave now.”

“Why should we?”

Nia turns back to the water, returning to the cleaning she’d been doing. Dromarch sits behind her protectively, eyes never leaving Akhos or Obrona. “I’m busy. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Not for a while, no. And why leave when our mere presence antagonizes the resident traitor so much?”

Nia lets out an irritated sigh, wrapping the knife and putting it away. She rises to her feet once again. “Architect, you’d get along great with Malos. I’ll handle this later. Dromarch?” She climbs onto her Blade’s back. He can outrun Akhos and Obrona any day. Maybe if they can make it back to Garfont, Akhos will do her the mercy of shutting up and leaving her alone.

At least, until he attacks. Not like she didn’t already know what he was here for.

“By the way,” Akhos says as Dromarch is preparing to run, “my orders are to handle you however I see fit. Don’t rest too easy, now.”

Dromarch takes off into a sprint before Nia can respond, and they return to Garfont in record time, knives not quite clean, head spinning with doubt. No doubt that was Akhos’s plan all along, but Architect, it worked well.

She returns to the room she’s gotten in the inn, which Poppi and Zenobia haven’t yet returned to, and falls into bed, pulling her knees to her chest and heaving a sigh. She thanks the Architect that Dromarch understands her need for solitude right now and slinks off to the room he shares with the guys.

It’s a long, sleepless night for Nia. She manages a bit, yeah, but the added comfort of finally sleeping in a bed for the first time in a week or two is minimal when she’s faced with the knowledge that Akhos could come for them whenever he pleases, and she’s not allowed to say a word about it.

Morning arrives and a gentle light falls across Garfont village, and Nia crawls out of bed, tiptoes out of the room, and goes for a walk.

~

Nia’s joined by Zenobia some time later, having found a scenic vantage point in the village underneath a large tree. The added companionship isn’t really what she wanted right now, but she says nothing, choosing to stew quietly in her minor annoyance.

She sits, legs dangling from the small plateau, as Zenobia flies up to join her. She’s so… effortless. Nia briefly wonders if Zenobia’s ever had to worry about anything. She supposes she wouldn’t remember, anyway.

Nia wonders if she had a good life, in the lifetimes she can’t remember. Or did she have a life at all, before this one? Maybe this was her first awakening, and the first thing she did was corrupt herself and her core crystal, become an enemy of anything good.

Things could be different. They could have changed from the start, if she’d refused, if her sister had never…

“Nia, you okay?” Zenobia says, waving a hand in front of her face. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for five minutes now and you haven’t even looked at me.”

“Sorry,” she says, swallowing her concerns for now. She’ll keep all her problems inside her chest, and one day, she’ll die with them. “What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you’re alright,” Zenobia says. “It’s really early for you to be up, and you look like you haven’t slept at all.”

“I guess I did have trouble sleeping last night.” She kicks her legs against the rock they rest against, focusing on her breathing. Even if Zenobia’s right, even if she’s not doing nearly as well as she could be, she can’t exactly confide in Zenobia about this. “Sorry if me getting up this morning woke you.”

“Nah.” She waves it off. “I’m naturally an early riser, don’t even worry about it.”

They fall into a brief silence as Nia finds nothing to say, and Zenobia searches.

Zenobia watches the sky. Nia watches her feet.

“Does this have anything to do with you trying to sneak off the other day?”

Nia looks up at that, turning her head to look at Zenobia. “Well… not exactly. Different issue, same source.”

“What’d Malos do this time?”

Nia shakes her head. “It’s got nothing to do with Malos.”

“That’s a first,” she says, grin broad and lighthearted. “Guy’s got a knack for saying exactly the wrong things. I’m surprised you put up with him at all.”

“Same to you,” Nia replies, cracking a small smile.

The noise that comes from Zenobia is a short bark of laughter. “Even if I wasn’t determined to get him to fight me someday, I don’t have a choice. He’s Rex’s Blade too, after all.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Do you…” She trails off, unsure of her own question.

Zenobia tilts her head. “What’s that?”

“Nothing, sorry. Forget about it.”

“Hm, okay,” she says. “You’ve been acting pretty weird lately, but I’ll let it slide. Maybe you’re just like that.”

“Yeah, let’s just go with that. I’m a bit weird and all that.” Nia stretches, a languid movement that engages every muscle, and moves to stand. “Come on, come get breakfast with me. Could use a nice coffee.”

“Wanna race there?” Zenobia grins again, the flame of competition lighting in her eyes.

Nia rolls her eyes. “No way. You’d beat me. Some of us can’t fly.”

“Aw, you’re no fun, Nia.”

“Sorry ‘bout it,” she says, sliding down the side of the plateau and starting the walk to the tavern they’d eaten at the previous day. Zenobia follows behind her, and for a short moment, Nia almost wishes Zenobia was her Blade instead.

Almost. Can’t say she’d enjoy swinging that axe around, to be honest.

Vargel’s tavern doesn’t have any coffee, which isn’t quite the disappointment Nia wanted to start the day on, but whatever. Nia orders tea and some light vegetables for breakfast, and sits down to find Zenobia’s gotten tea with… steak?

“Interesting combination you got there,” she comments as she reaches for her own tea.

Zenobia doesn’t seem fazed. “You should try it sometime. I’m pretty sure I could eat meat for every meal and never get tired of it.”

Nia gives a polite smile and takes a sip of her tea. “I’m good. Meat’s okay, but I couldn’t start the day like that. Too heavy for my tastes.”

“Bet you’d start the day with fish though, huh?” The smile on Zenobia’s face is teasing.

Nia’s ears raise in offense. “Oi! I’ll have you know that’s a stereotype.” She crosses her arms across her chest as Dromarch joins them. “…I do like fish, though,” she adds quietly. “Dromarch, what do you want for breakfast?”

“Whatever you choose is fine for me, my lady,” he says, bowing his head. “How did you find your sleep last night?”

“Fine, I’m a bit tired, wish this place had coffee, but I’ll make it. I’ll get you some steak and some water, hold on a sec.” Nia gets up and returns not long later with some food for Dromarch.

He bows his head in appreciation. “Thank you, my lady. You know me too well.”

“I could say the same for you,” she replies, a warm smile on her face.

“You two are so close,” Zenobia says, resting her chin in her palm. “How long have you been Driver and Blade?”

Nia’s eyes flick to Dromarch’s. She doesn’t like to think about the time when she awakened him, tries not to even think about the old days as much as she can, but she has to to get even close to answering the question properly.

“Must be, what, six months now?” Might have skewed that number a bit. Might be best to keep all that stuff from the past under wraps. The more they know, the more they'll want to know. Besides, it's more of an answer to a different question. Years on the run, then six months with Torna before Rex reminded her she had other options to turn to. But they did warm up to each other fast. Weren't really given a choice in the matter.

“That’s not that long. Must’ve been through a lot in that short time, for you to be such a skilled Driver. And your affinity bond with Dromarch is so strong already.”

Nia flinches. “Yeah, well, we didn’t get a lot of time to figure that stuff out. It just had to happen, and that was that.” She stares down at her plate now, eating to fill the silence that’s maybe her fault. (It’s absolutely her fault.)

“I’m not going to ask about all that stuff,” Zenobia says after some time. “If you tell me, that’s up to you, but you know we’re on your side, right? It’s not just you and Dromarch against the world. Not anymore.”

“I never said it was.”

She hums, sipping her tea slowly. “Yeah, well, I can see it in your eyes. Besides, can’t think of how else you’d get so close so quickly. That’s the way a Driver and Blade act when they’ve had no choice but to rely on each other completely. It must have been rough, but it’s none of my business, so I won’t pry any more. But like I said… it’s not just the two of you anymore. At least, it doesn’t have to be.”

The conversation dies as Rex approaches the table to sit. “…thank you, Zenobia,” Nia says quietly as Rex sits.

The boy glances between the two of them, a look of confusion written on his face. “Good morning,” he says, deciding apparently not to question anything.

“Morning!” Nia chirps, feeling like a weight’s been lifted off her chest. There’s still the knowledge of Akhos nagging at the back of her mind, the fear wrapped around her heart, but maybe it’s not so bad to have a little support. Zenobia can’t fully understand it, not really, but Nia appreciates the kindness, and maybe if she acts happy she can trick herself into believing she’s not afraid.

“We’re meeting Vandham at the training grounds after breakfast,” Rex says. “Going to get an early start on travel. He says we can probably make it to Fonsa Myma by night if we don’t take too many breaks and get an early start.

“Alright, got it,” Nia mumbles, drowsing a bit. Maybe she should have tried a bit more to get some sleep.

Rex pauses. “Are you sure you slept okay, Nia?”

“No.” She downs the rest of her hot tea in one big, painful gulp. She sets down the teacup, coughing. “That’s better. Sorry, didn’t have a good time trying to sleep last night. Got a lot on my mind.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Rex says. “What we’re doing… it isn’t easy. But we’ll make it, right?”

“Of course,” she says, and she means it. He’s certainly determined enough to deliver them to Elysium, and he’s got the right idea of why. If anyone can get them there, it’s probably him. Probably.

Okay, so his skills need some work, but he’s got the rest of what he needs. They can work on his skills as a Driver on the way. Vandham’s already got him started down that path, at least.

Malos joins them, apparently having already eaten. “Ready to go whenever the rest of you are,” he grumbles. Nia knew he wasn’t much of a morning person, but she’d hoped he’d at least have taken advantage of the fact that they had actual beds and gotten some substantial sleep. She supposes she hasn’t fared much better.

Her plate’s basically clean, and Dromarch was focused on eating instead of talking, meaning they’re waiting on Rex and Azurda. Well, and Tora, who’s not left the inn yet, as far as Nia can tell. “We’ll be waiting on Tora for a while at this rate.”

Malos looks around, not seeing him, and groans. “I’m on it.” He stalks off, back to the inn, and returns not long after, lugging a frantic, still half-asleep Tora by the scruff of his neck, and followed by the ever-dutiful Poppi. He stops just short of the table and drops Tora on the ground unceremoniously. The poor slacker lands face first, his protests now muffled by the dirt.

He pushes himself up, looking angrily at Malos. “There still plenty of time left for Tora to sleep!”

“If you recall, everyone but Nia was told last night that we’d be leaving early today, and even she managed to be ready to leave on time. Go eat, or we’ll leave you here without breakfast.” Malos’s tone and glare leave no room for further protests on Tora’s behalf, and he silently bounds over to the counter to order.

“Thanks for that,” Rex says. “We’d never have gotten him up on time otherwise.”

Malos grunts, which seems to be the end of the conversation as he heads off to the training ground in silence, leaving Poppi to take a seat at the table, which is starting to get crowded.

“Friends sleep well?” she asks, ever innocent.

Nia shakes her head at the same time Zenobia says, “yeah, I slept great! How’d you sleep, Poppi?”

“Poppi does not sleep, but feels refreshed after extended time in rest mode without any damage to system. Was analyzing data collected during day of travel.”

“Analyzing data?” Nia asks, leaning on the table with both elbows. “What kind of data do you collect?”

“Simple facts about friends and environment. For example, humidity in Uraya much higher than in Gormott. Humidity in Uraya so high, it feel like Gormott when about to rain!”

“…you don’t think that means it’ll rain today, do you?” Rex asks. Like he’s not the one wearing a waterproof salvaging suit.

“Hard to tell. Poppi spend most of time in Uraya near water, but humidity only climb since arrived! We not know much about weather, so it possible that humidity means it rain soon.”

Nia restrains herself from letting out a groan. Her element may be water, but she’d rather not deal with the rain. Rain means cold and wet and camping in the mud without a fire, and slipping in the mud, and she’d rather not put up with any of it. Does it even rain in titans like these?

“If friends like,” Poppi continues as Tora sits down with a plate of sausages, “Poppi can keep data on Uraya and begin analyzing for potential weather conditions in future.”

“Yeah,” Nia says, “that’d be nice. Wish we weren’t racing against Mythra and the others here, or I’d suggest we wait until tomorrow to start travelling and spend today working on fighting and not getting caught in the rain.”

“Friends think it rain today?” Tora asks, words still slurred by sleep.

Everyone nods. “Poppi said the humidity in Uraya is really close to what it’s like in Gormott before it rains.”

“Oh,” he says. “Poppi not have any databases on weather science. Environmental monitoring more for helping Tora maintain hair.”

“Really?” Zenobia says. “Data like that could make some serious advances in science.”

“Science not matter much, though. Weather not have any effect on how well Tora can build or work, so never thought about it. It possible that rain have effect on Poppi that Tora not see though, so left feature in.”

It baffles Nia how smart Tora is and yet how much of a dumbass he can be. “Well, we’ll have to see how well Poppi’s predictions turn out in terms of accuracy. It might be interesting.”

“Yeah, could be useful, too.”

“Friends want to hear more about data Poppi collecting?” she asks, seemingly delighted to be more useful to the group.

“Sure, let’s hear it.”

“In Garfont, there more than thirty Blades. Sometimes, Poppi can sense Blade even more powerful than normal Blade, but it not like Malos. When Blade and Driver fight together, it make special ether wave in air. Poppi detected wave like this seventy-one times yesterday. When friend Nia link with Dromarch, it even more special ether anomaly!”

Nia’s chest feels tight, all of a sudden. “R-really? Interesting.”

“When Rex-Rex link with Malos, it like they not link at all,” Poppi continues. “Rex-Rex and Malos not very close, while Nia and Dromarch very close! Poppi conclude that ether anomaly dependent on strength of bond between Blade and Driver. So ether anomaly of Nia and Dromarch very special. Rex-Rex and Malos have different kind of ether anomaly from others, though.”

Nia releases a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding. Poppi keeps talking.

“Yesterday, Poppi feel anomaly from greater distance than before. Thought it was Nia and Dromarch because not feel it from others yet, but then Poppi return to inn and see Nia already asleep. It possible that another Blade and Driver like Nia and Dromarch in Uraya!”

...must be Akhos and Obrona, she realizes. They were out her way, and she doubts they went off to do nothing after bothering her all day. “When’s the last time you sensed the special ether thing?” she asks.

“Poppi not sure. Less data collected during rest mode, so if more special ether anomalies happen during night, Poppi not sense it. Did sense one about twenty-seven minutes ago, though.”

Ah, there’s the anxiety again. “Where, Poppi?”

“Out by training ground where Poppi train with masterpon, Zenobia, and Nia yesterday,” she responds. “Why friend ask?”

Nia opens her mouth, but remembers the deal she’d made. “Just curious. Tora, are you done eating yet?”

“Tora suppose. Not too happy about being woken up so early, but will make an exception this time.”

“Then we should probably go meet Vandham soon. I want to stop by one of the shops here to see about getting a blanket or something to sleep on, so I’ll meet the rest of you there, okay?” Nia stands, and Dromarch walks with her to the shops.

The worry gnaws at Nia as she finds a nice-looking bolt of warm fabric. It’s really a shame that she’ll have to put it in the mud in order to look even slightly okay walking around. On second thought, she buys another bolt of the fabric and bags it as she walks over to the training ground.

She slinks into the training grounds, where the others are now all gathered, quietly, hyper-aware of the possibility of Akhos attacking. As long as she keeps quiet, she’ll be safe, right?

Maybe that’s too naïve, but she can’t help but think that while she might not be physically safe, she can’t imagine him not trying to kill her now that he’s basically been given the go ahead to deal with her as he pleases, but… her secret, at least, will be safe. The tiptoes it’s already made into the light are already too much for her.

With any luck, she’ll be able to just be… normal. Just a regular Driver, and her regular Blade, on a quest to save Alrest or whatever. As normal as she can be.

“Say, Rex,” Vandham is saying as she approaches, “what do you think is the difference between me and, let’s say, Torna?”

The boy in question is so clearly caught off guard by the question that it’s a bit funny, but he presses on. “What? Well, I guess… it’s obvious, isn’t it? They’re bad, and you’re not. They hurt people, and you help people.”

Oh, so naïve. Although, to be fair, she’s not sure where Vandham’s going with this either. She tries her hardest to remove herself from Torna, and continues listening.

Vandham laughs. “Glad you think I’m a good person, kid. Truth is, we aren’t all that different. They’re not doing good stuff, no, but they’re fighting their own war. Everyone’s got their own war to fight, their own ideals against the world’s, and you’re no different. Tell me, what’s your war?”

“My… war?”

“While I appreciate the vote of confidence,” a voice says, sending Nia stock-still, ears up in alarm, “and believe me, I do appreciate that you think so highly of me, really—all of the members of this rag-tag cast have arrived, so if you please, the show may finally begin.”

Akhos appears, as overly dramatic as always, with a bastardous smirk on his face. He’s trailed by Obrona, naturally, and the air grows electric again. Seems Obrona’s preemptively activated her ability, judging by the sudden subtle suffocation that permeates the air.

“Who the hell are you?” Malos asks, taking a dangerous step in their direction.

She’s gotta give her former comrades credit. Anyone else Malos looked at like that would at the very least look like they were considering turning tail and running.

Akhos raises a gloved hand as if that would actually placate Malos, the incarnation of moodiness, and doesn’t bother wiping that damn smirk off his face. “Now, now, calm yourself. I merely had to come see the star of the show on my own! And what a star he is. Akhos, at your service.”

Malos scoffs. “Cut the shit. I’ve been hanging around here for an hour, and was alone for most of that. You had more than enough opportunity to approach me alone, but you waited until all of our group was here. What is it you’re actually here for?” As he’s speaking, he moves closer to Rex—the movement is subtle, almost so much so that Nia hardly notices. Apparently, she’s not the only one who does, though.

Akhos hums. “Well, someone’s shockingly attached to his Driver. Protective, even. I’d heard you revived this brat, but could it be that you actually care about him? Or is the interest a bit more… self-centered?”

Nia’s not sure entirely what he’s getting at, if he somehow knows about Malos’s surprisingly well-kept secret, but she steps in anyway, rings already in her hands. “Oh come off it, Akhos. Just tell us what you’re here for, alright?”

“Nia, you know him?” Rex asks as everyone turns their gaze to her. She inhales, exhales, keeps her eyes on the enemy. She can’t falter or get distracted here, especially not when it’s taking everything in her to keep the flow of ether into her weapons subtle, unnoticeable. If she’s right, and Obrona’s prematurely blocking the ether flow, it’s the only way she’ll be able to properly handle it.

“Now, Nia, have you forgotten?” Akhos’s voice is taunting, and he takes his own dangerous step in her direction, his expression warm and his eyes unflinchingly cold.

“Say, Akhos,” Obrona says, stifling a giggle, “now that I think about it…” She flies around, closer to Nia, halving the distance playfully. “You only said you wouldn’t tell anyone…”

Fists clench around the handles of metal rings. They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t.

In the back of her mind, Nia realizes they absolutely would.

“You know, Obrona, I did say that. And as I recall, no stipulations were placed on what you would do with the information. I suppose that means you’re free to say as you please, hm?”

Nia learned to hate the sound of Obrona’s laugh early on in her stint with Torna. It’s sadistic, mischievous in a way that implies just the slightest amount of sadism, and the higher the pitch, the surer you can be that you won’t like whatever follows. Now, that laugh isn’t preceding some prank, but the loss of the trust Nia’s friends have in her, and she will herself to move. Begs, even. If she can just move, if she can just stop Obrona—

She’s completely rooted to the spot, but it’s okay, because in the exact moment Obrona opens her mouth, a blast of darkness hits her directly in the face. Mercifully, the only thing that comes out is a yelp as she’s thrown to the ground from the impact. Nia follows its source to Malos, who’s holding his sword in one hand effortlessly. He must have closed the distance between him and Rex to grab it.

Another blast comes from the tip of the sword, aimed at Akhos—he gracefully avoids it, albeit narrowly.

“Glad to see the members of Torna have no shame or sense of loyalty,” Malos says, not lowering his sword. “Do yourself a favor, Nia, and get moving.”

Malos’s words of support finally allow Nia to push past her fear and move. She moves swiftly past Obrona to where Akhos stands, his swords in hand, his affinity link with Obrona blinking to life, a strong gold line that doesn’t falter for a second.

“Stay vigilant, everyone. Akhos is a master of strategy,” Nia starts saying, her body moving without her thinking. “He plans every move Torna makes, orchestrates every major operation. The Blade, Obrona, can manipulate the ether in the air, so I hope you haven’t been relying on it too much, because she can cut off your link with your Blade like it’s nothing.”

She moves fast, faster than she ever has in battle, and Akhos can just barely keep up.

Vandham takes the cue and draws his weapons, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Oh, I know the name Torna,” he says, borderline growls. “This guy’s one of them, you say?”

Nia nods, narrowly avoiding a slice Akhos makes aimed at her neck. He never was one for messing around. “One of five. There’s probably another around somewhere, but as I recall, two are out in other areas for a while. That leaves the leader and Pyra. It could be one of those two, or it could be both, but—guh—” One of Akhos’s attempts to fight back results in a slash across Nia’s cheek. “—either way isn’t an ideal situation.”

Vandham and the others join the fray, finally taking in the situation, and Nia keeps talking.

“The rest of you might be safe, except Rex and Malos. He’s wanting to kill me personally. Everyone else is just collateral.”

“You know, Nia,” Akhos interrupts, his voice a growl, “you’re not following the script.”

“To hell with your script, Akhos.” Nia tosses the rings to the side—Obrona’s too effective at countering ether, another ability from her manipulations, and she can’t quite keep up the illusion that all of this is stored, anyway. Instead, she pulls back, and punches him in the face with everything she’s ever had.

“If you think that I’m going to sit back and let your stupid script play out, you’re dumber than I ever gave you credit for,” she says, standing over him.

He glares at her, a hand on his cheek. “Tch… Obrona, I’ve grown tired of this farce. We’re leaving.”

She sighs, throwing up a proper ether shield between him and the others as he sheathes his weapons. “Fine, whatever. It was just getting to the fun part.”

Nia watches as the two abscond and takes a seat on the ground, head in her hands. Quite possibly the heaviest sigh she’s ever sighed leaves her, and it’s only when she pulls her hands away to see the others that she remembers the blood running down her face.

The suffocating feeling leaves with Obrona, and Dromarch walks up to Nia, picking up her rings in his mouth and charging them with ether.

Nia accepts them once they’ve been charged, and Dromarch bows his head. “My lady.”

She releases a healing art, which closes the cut smoothly. “Thanks, Dromarch,” she says, patting him on the head and looking at the others. They’re all still trying to make sense of what just happened, and Nia releases the second heaviest sigh she’s sighed in her life. She’s got a lot of explaining to do (a lot of lying to do) by the looks of it.

She pushes herself to her feet. “Everyone ready to head off to Fonsa Myma, then?”

“Um…”

The third heaviest sigh in Nia’s life escapes. “Come on. I can explain on the way.”

Chapter Text

Uraya is wet. Not only that, it’s humid, and it’s a horrible experience for those more inclined to fire-based ether. No amount of Aegis power can fully counteract the unpleasantness Pyra feels right now as a fire Blade in this environment.

’Pay attention,’ Mythra’s voice echoes in her head. ’You were the one who wanted to make sure Akhos didn’t get done in.’

“I know,” Pyra mutters. “I am. It’s just… stifling.”

’Well, I guess that’s what you get for letting the Tantalese get ahold of Ophion. Maybe if we still had his control core we could be done with all this already.’

Pyra pretends not to notice that Mythra’s clearly blaming her for the loss of Ophion, like they weren’t a little too busy trying to stay undetected while gathering power to monitor Ophion. Pyra forgets herself for a moment and privately thinks Mythra should take her portion of the blame for once.

’I heard that, you know,’ Mythra snarks.

“Yeah, well maybe you needed to,” she mutters back. “You could try being a little nicer, you know. You can’t exactly get rid of me at this point.”

She can feel Mythra’s irritation kick up. ’You’re lucky I still need you.’

“You’re lucky you have me at all.” Not that she needs to say it out loud. She’s thought it enough times that she’s sure Mythra knows already. “If it were you leading them and talking to them like that we wouldn’t have any help.”

Mythra snorts. ’You’re too nice to them. Just give them a reason to be afraid of you and they won’t run.’

“Nia did,” Pyra retorts. Speaking of Nia, she seems to be the only one of Malos’s group that fully understands the situation they’re in. Pyra can’t hear from the vantage point she’s picked to watch, but she can see everything clearly—Nia has the posture of someone ready for any attack. As well she should.

’Like I said, you’re too nice. Why bother being nice to them when they’re all going to be dead soon, anyway?’

Pyra doesn’t respond; she’s too focused on watching as Malos swiftly and surely grabs his sword off Rex’s waist, firing a burst of ether from the tip of the weapon with dangerous precision. Akhos will be fine for now. He had to prove himself to become their strategist.

Still, the movement seems to have spurred the smarter of their group into action. Pyra watches as events unfold, preparing at any point to jump in and help Akhos if necessary. She briefly wonders how things would be different if she didn’t have to get Mythra’s approval to do things like this. She can’t bring herself to not care about her teammates for the short amount of time they’ll have left together the way Mythra doesn’t care about them.

She lets out a soft hiss as she watches Nia punch Akhos directly in the face. Akhos rights himself, says something to Obrona, and they retreat. Pyra finally lets out a soft breath in relief and moves to climb down.

See? He’s fine. No need to waste our time out here. Pyra ignores Mythra’s voice.

Sever awaits at the foot of the plateau, arms crossed and a grin barely visible on his face. “Did you get what you came for, Pyra?”

Pyra nods. “Yeah, thanks, Sever. We should go meet up with Akhos. I suspect he’s already planning the next move.”

There’s shared nods, and with no objection or comment from Mythra, they walk off in the direction Akhos retreated to.

~

No matter how long they walk, the day looks more and more gloomy. Rex tries not to think too hard about the looming rain as they follow Vandham, but the sky doesn’t seem to want to let him forget. Nia promised explanations, but half-hearted attempts devolved to her talking quietly with Dromarch. They must be strategizing, sifting through information… Meanwhile, the rest of them still don’t know what’s going on.

The ground of Uraya is wet. Rex had heard the term “wetland” used before, sure, but he hadn’t been expecting to actually make use of his waterproof boots outside the cloud sea. There’s water as far as the eye can see, with terraced plateaus that appear to house all matter of wildlife and flora. In the distance, fog wraps smoothly around a staircase, which descends into the water below.

At least this ridiculous amount of walking, coupled with occasional interruptions from the punchier of the wildlife, has a nice view to go with it. If the salvaging scene weren’t practically nonexistent here, he’d actually consider moving to Uraya. The trees here remind him of home.

A land bridge joins a plateau with a higher plateau, and it’s while they’re trudging across it that Nia finally decides to try her hand at those explanations she promised.

“Okay, I think I’m ready now.” Nia catches up with them, trailed by Dromarch. “Sorry about all that, I’m... there’s a lot. That you guys don’t know about me.”

“There’s an easy solution to that, isn’t there?” Rex asks, shrugging his shoulder.

Nia’s ears flick back on her head. “What’s that?”

Gramps takes this chance to join the conversation. “I believe what Rex is implying is that you could try talking to us from time to time. Perhaps if you opened up, we would know more about you.”

Nia flinches. “I don’t really... like the idea of telling everyone. About myself.”

There’s a certain guilt in the way Nia’s holding herself, or maybe it’s fear; her ears are folded flat against her head, and she retreats into her hood, stubbornly refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Rex can’t tell if she’s walking closer to Dromarch than usual or if he’s walking closer to her.

“It seemed to be something rather important, though...” Rex frowns. “I don’t like that Torna knows things about you that we don’t.”

“It’s natural, isn’t it?” She shrugs. “I was with them for a while. It’s been a week at most since we met. These things don’t happen overnight, all right?” Her arms cross her chest.

She’s right, yeah, but he still doesn’t like it. “All right. So what’s this about a ‘deal’ Akhos and Obrona were talking about? You spoke to them?”

Nia falters under everyone’s gazes. “I should have left when I had the chance...” she mutters. When no one speaks, she continues. “Alright. I went to go clean the blood off my knives in the river outside Garfont yesterday. You know, get some fresh air, take care of my weapons, all that. I really can’t tell you what exactly it is that they know, but Akhos and Obrona approached and told me how if I told anyone about his abilities or the rest of Torna, they’d... they’d tell everything they knew. And it’s not pretty.

“Maybe someday, I can tell you guys about that stuff, but right now? It’s really not necessary, and I can promise I won’t be letting them manipulate me anymore.” She promises, and yet, she still refuses to meet anyone’s eyes.

“It not important for Drivers to get along as well as Blades?” Poppi asks quietly. “Fighting harder when friends not trust each other.”

Rex feels hurt prickle at his heart. “Nia, it’s going to be real hard to trust you when we know you’re keeping secrets.”

“I know!” Nia says. “I know.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Then, Zenobia and Nia speak at once.

“Maybe I should just—”
“Rex, maybe we shouldn’t—”

Zenobia pauses, giving Nia her chance to breathe and say what she wanted to say.

“Look, maybe we should be having this conversation when we’re someplace safe. You never know when something might attack us, after all, and I really don’t think—”

Rex thinks that Nia might have some kind of power to speak whatever she says into existence. At that precise moment, as the first drop of rain hits his nose, a loud, obnoxious voice cuts right through their obviously important conversation.

“Finally found you, Driver of the Aegis!”

For a split second, Rex thinks he might have something to be worried about. A pair of people in black cloaks—one tall, one short—appear seemingly from nowhere. Hoods cover their faces as the taller one speaks.

“You kept us waiting, Driver of the Aegis.” He extends his arm in a manner even more theatrical than his voice (one which might be intended to be intimidating, but honestly it sounds like this stranger takes himself too seriously), and it’s now Rex realizes that the shorter one is copying his every movement precisely. Did they… rehearse this?

“Hand the Aegis over!” the shorter one demands. “We won’t ask again!”

“Or how about a fight!” the tall one follows up. “That way, your honor remains intact, and you lose the Aegis in battle! I can’t guarantee it’ll be fair, given the obvious difference in our abilities, but you’re free to try if you care about your honor!”

Honestly, between the voice, the tinge of desperation, and the choreographed dramatic flourishes, Rex isn’t quite sure how to respond. It’s just so… ridiculous. They’re busy. He was finally getting somewhere with Nia, and they’re not even... talking to him. This entire time they’ve been aiming their demands and choreography at Nia.

“We’re good,” Rex says, finally, turning up his nose and walking on past the pair. The others follow suit.

Moments later, the pair runs around in front of them again to stop them, but the taller cloaked stranger slips and falls flat on his face, right into the mud. The shorter one skids to a stop and pulls him to his feet, quietly chiding him in a way that’s almost motherly.

“Alright,” the cloaked man says. “I get it. You don’t want to fight just any old stranger that approaches you. You’re busy, yeah? Got places to be, things to do? So make a deal with me, because we’re not letting you past until you give us a good fight. You fight us, and we’ll let you past if you win. If not… you have to come with us.” His hood falls back as he speaks, and Rex is met with the face of an eye patched man with silver hair and mud on his nose.

“Just who are you idiots, anyway?” Nia asks, placing a hand on her hip. “I’m almost inclined to fight you just because you’re that annoying.”

“Hey!” The man stomps his foot in indignation. His shadow follows his movement with little lag. “We’re not idiots. The three of us will show you lot the true meaning of skill!”

There’s silence for a moment. Nia visibly counts both of their adversaries once, twice…

“One, two… am I blind, or are you missing someone?”

The man chuckles darkly. “I’m so glad you’ve asked, furry-eared Driver of the Aegis.” He tries to remove his cloak dramatically, but he’s standing on the hem of it and nearly falls face-first into the mud again. When he’s restabilized, he tries a second time and flings the cloak… straight off the cliff behind him. Nice.

Now that he’s removed his cloak, Rex can see the man himself, and wow, that’s a lot of belts. Like, belts stacked on top of one another until they reach just above the edge of the man’s rib cage. He’s also not wearing an actual shirt—his are covered with a ratty jacket, which is left open so everyone can see just how many belts he’s wearing. At least his pants won’t be falling down any time soon.

“My name? Is Zeke von Genbu! Bringer of chaos! Smasher of dreams! Also known as Thunderbolt Zeke! And mostly importantly… your worst nightmare!” With yet another flourish, he gestures to the girl standing beside him, and she removes her own cloak, a lot more dramatically and a lot more elegantly than her cohort managed to do. “This! Is my Blade, Pandoria!”

Pandoria looks a bit classier than her Driver. Probably because she’s not wearing nearly as many belts. She’s got large glasses, which conceal her face, and short green hair, as well as clothes that are somehow just as eccentric as Zeke’s. The lightbulb on the end of her tail matches that of the hat on her head.

All in all, the two are a lot to look at. There’s still no third person here, though. Also, this Zeke guy called Nia the Aegis Driver, which is certainly news to him. Why didn’t anyone tell him Nia was Malos’s Driver now?

Before anyone can point out the mistake, Pandoria stands proudly, with one hand on her hip, and slowly raises her open palm to reveal…

Nothing. There’s nothing there. It’s just… her empty palm.

The two realize perhaps too late that their third member, who may or may not actually exist, is definitely not present.

Zeke’s face drops as he takes it in. “…Turters?”

There’s another empty moment before both people are on the ground, in the mud, looking for… Turters, whoever that is.

“…Right,” Rex says after a moment. “Well, we’re just gonna…” He maneuvers around them, and the others follow suit. They don’t get far before Nia stops walking.

“You don’t look native,” she mumbles, and Rex turns to find she’s talking to a small turtle she’s picked up. “How’d a beaut like you end up in Uraya?”

“Ah! Turters!” Zeke is suddenly right behind Nia and doesn’t quite stop his momentum in the mud. He slams straight into her back, nearly sending her to the ground.

“Oi, watch it!” Nia turns to glare at the guy.

“How dare you,” he says, his own glare in place. For a second, Rex thinks he’s serious, but then Zeke merely takes the turtle from her. “Handling a man’s turtle!”

“Oh, yes, because me picking up a turtle off the ground makes me the one doing wrong in this situation.” Nia takes a dangerous step towards him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “We’ve got stuff to do. How about you lay off, leave us alone, and while you’re at it, get a few of your facts straight before trying to pick a fight?”

“Can we go already?” Malos asks, voice gruff. “I’m getting pissed off.”

“Tora want to go too!” The nopon has furrowed brows, perhaps the least happy Rex has ever seen him outside of being woken up. “Tora tired! Want to make it to Fonsa Myma so Rex-Rex and friends can rest soon!”

“Besides,” Zenobia says, “It’s raining. Normally, I’d be all for a challenge, but… rain check.”

“Appearances can be deceiving, you know!” Pandoria says, stomping her foot

“Hey, Zenobia,” Malos says, “do us all a favor and blow these idiots off the cliff so we can get going.”

“Malos, no.” Rex gives him a stern look. “We’re not killing them.”

Malos looks over the edge of the cliff for a long moment, considering the idea thoughtfully. “Can you idiots swim?”

Zeke looks up from fawning over the turtle just long enough to answer. “What? Yeah?”

“Zenobia,” Malos says simply.

A delighted cackle is the only indication Zenobia gives before a gust of wind assaults the duo and their mascot. They brace themselves against it as Zenobia keeps the pressure on.

Panic flicks through Rex for a moment. “Wait, they’re annoying, yeah, but we can’t—”

“They’ll survive a fall from this distance,” Malos says. “I checked. The water’s pretty deep right below us. They already said they can swim, so it’s not like they’re going to drown.”

Even if Rex protested anymore, it’d be useless, because at that exact moment, Zeke slips in the mud yet again, sending him right off the cliff. Pandoria watches his descent for a few moments before looking back at Rex, Malos, and Zenobia, an exasperated look on her face. “I’m just surprised this didn’t happen naturally,” she says. “Guess I’ll go after him, then.”

“Wait, what are you…” Rex watches as Pandoria shrugs and leaps off the cliff after Zeke and Turters, arcing her body into a perfect dive on her way down. “You know, I feel kind of bad,” Rex says as he watches the splash in the water. It’s a long way down.

“They’ll live,” Malos says with a shrug. “With any luck, we won’t have to deal with them again. Come on, it’s going to start raining harder pretty soon.”

“Right, let’s go,” Nia says. “Maybe next time they’ll have figured out that I’m not Malos’s Driver.” She shrugs and starts walking, and the others soon follow.

After a long moment, Rex sighs and follows after the others.

“That old staircase finally giving in?” Malos comments, looking towards the staircase in the distance. Now that they’ve been walking a few hours, it’s becoming clear exactly how huge this staircase is. Also becoming clear is the state of disrepair it’s in—there’s a huge gap where age and weather must have worn the stairs down.

“Yeah,” Vandham says. “Been a long time since they built it, after all. From what I’m told, musta been something like one, two hundred years before the Aegis war?”

“They were building things that grand back then?” Rex asks, keeping his eyes on the stairs. “That’s amazing.”

“The Aegis war set a lot back,” Vandham says. “Can’t even begin to think of where Alrest might be now without it.”

Gramps pops his head out of the helmet. “Before the Aegis war, we were looking at the start of a new era in history, for a much different reason than we now think of it. Much of Alrest was still unsettled, yes, but Torna in particular was making fantastic strides in the more academic fields. Yes… Malos and Addam did a lot to protect that sort of knowledge, but much of it now rests at the bottom of the Cloud Sea…”

“That’s enough,” Malos says. “I’ll tell them about all that when and if I decide.”

Nia raises her eyebrows (and her ears) at this. “Weren’t you all about trusting each other and all that?”

“Nia,” Malos growls in warning, “do yourself a favor and mind your own business.”

“Alright, geez, I won’t press,” she says, raising both hands. “Sorry.”

Malos goes quiet, and they walk for some time in silence. The awkward silence is perhaps a bit stifling, but there’s not much anyone can do about it, not without risking pissing Malos off any further.

And so they press through the assaulting rain. Rex can’t fault Nia for pressing Malos here; he’s curious, too, and it’s not like everyone else hadn’t been pressing her. Malos has five hundred years behind him, all that knowledge and experience that Rex and the others just… don’t have.

It’s hard not to want to know, but Rex figures the best thing he can do is wait for Malos to be willing to talk about it. He presses on, and slows down to say something to Nia that’s been bugging him for a bit now.

“Hey, Nia,” he says, causing her to flinch. She’s been watching her feet as she walks, ears folded back against her head, but now, she looks at him with startled eyes. “I should say sorry. For not noticing anything was wrong or doing anything about that Akhos guy.”

“You’re… apologizing to…” To his surprise, she bursts into laughter. “You betray a guy’s trust after being the single most suspicious person in existence, continue to be shady about your past, and he apologizes to you. You really are something, Rex.”

He blinks slowly as he processes her laughter. “Wait, you’re not… I don’t know, upset?”

“I’m mad at myself, not you or anyone else. I don’t expect you to have noticed anything. I was purposely trying to hide it from everyone.”

Rex’s eyes drift to where Akhos slashed her cheek. The injury has already faded to a pink line, the fractals from his electricity barely visible against her skin. Despite how fast she’s recovering, he can’t help but feel guilty.

“Still, I feel a bit bad. It took me so long to even think about how to respond when you and Malos started fighting that Akhos guy.”

Nia shakes her head. “No, I get that you were probably shocked. Besides, a lot happened fast. It’s only natural you might get thrown off. And besides, I attacked him out of nowhere. Didn’t even think about it.”

“Um…” Tora bounds to catch up with them and tugs at Nia’s hand gently. “Tora also sorry about what happen and not seeing that friend was upset.”

Finally, Nia cracks a proper smile, one where she’s not explicitly laughing at Rex. “It’s alright, Tora. Honestly, you lot apologize too much, and for all the wrong things. Akhos is Akhos, and there’s no getting around that. Just have to come to terms with the fact that Torna isn’t… my crew any more, and that they might not be too happy about it.”

“You knew they wanted to destroy Alrest when you were talking to them,” Rex says. “Why did you join them to begin with?”

Nia sighs. She’s been doing a lot of that today. “I was kind of in a… tough situation, when they found me. Didn’t really have much of a say in the matter.”

Yet again, her past is just out of his reach, like she’s holding it far over his head and he can’t quite jump high enough to grab it. It’s so tempting to press, and really, he feels it’s important to know, but…

“Sorry,” she says with a grin when no one says anything. “Not the best way to continue a conversation.”

“Nah, nah,” he says after a moment. “I’m glad you’re openin’ up a bit, at least. The more I learn about you the more I think I don’t know anything about you at all.”

“Well, it’s not like you’ve been very forthcoming about yourself either,” she points out. “Don’t think I’ve learned anythin’ new about you since the day we met.”

Come to think of it, she’s kind of right. Their relationship as travelling companions has been based entirely around a circle of saving each other’s lives without actually ever talking to each other. Immediately, Rex feels the urge to apologize.

“Hypocrites, the lot of you,” Nia says before Rex can say anything more. Her face twists into a joking smile as she says it. “How about we try talking to each other, before flinging around accusations about how little we’ve told each other, yeah?”

Rex nods. “That sounds like a plan.”

With a private smile, he catches up to talk to Vandham, and the rest of their push through the rain is spent with little event.

~

When they finally reach Fonsa Myma, exhausted, fatigued, and absolutely at their limits, the only thing Nia wants to do is sleep. But, realistically, they’ve all got a bit of work to do yet.

After a brief conversation and budgeting, they split up to get everything handled faster, with Rex and Vandham heading off to the inn. Nia, Malos, and Zenobia make the decision to split the burden of acquiring ingredients for dinner, and Malos goes off with Zenobia to hunt down something meaty. Tora’s gone off somewhere to look at parts for Poppi, leaving Nia on vegetable duty.

Those who’ve stayed open despite the rain (which has finally calmed a bit) are reluctant to serve her given that they’re trying to close up shop for the night, but when she flashes the bag of gold Rex handed to her, they drop any objections they might’ve had. Despite this, she’s quick, and given the guidelines Malos gave her, she’s in and out with the vegetables for tonight and heading back to the inn.

The bag of gold Rex gave her is lighter than it probably should be, she realizes. What’s this boy been doing with his money? He got paid a hundred thousand gold in advance for that job he took with her and Torna, and this is… definitely not a hundred grand. She makes a note to ask him what he did with that much gold later.

Nevertheless, she returns to the inn and places her purchases on the table, passing the gold back to Rex, who’s draped himself over the couch. He’s awake, but just about as exhausted as the other Drivers. The Blades, even, are draped around the room in various states of exhaustion, save for Poppi, who’s massaging Tora’s shoulders.

“Not really supposed to make that trek in a single day,” Vandham says, stretching. “Kinda surprised you kids managed.”

“Glad to see you have faith in us,” Nia says, a wry smile on her face. She takes a seat next to Rex, looking around for Dromarch so she can start running healing arts. She spots him in the corner. “Dromarch?”

Dromarch lifts his head slowly and nods after a moment, trying to hide his own fatigue. Their affinity link blazes into existence once again in preparation for the maintenance on their travelling companions.

Nia doesn’t move yet. She merely lets the ether build in her weapons, taking the time to breathe. The ether builds just beneath the surface, not yet channeling into her weapons, and it stagnates under her skin. It’s not until the two Blades that were out hunting return that she reaches for her rings and allows the ether to flow into them..

Malos greets the room with his customary glare, Zenobia with a wave and the presentation of a bag of meat collected off a now very dead animal. They’re both dripping wet from the rain, the same as Nia. Nia leans forward in her seat to get some room to move.

It’s for the best that Nia is still are wet from the rain. The water-based ether channels through her rings fluidly, and the rings conduct the ether as she swirls them above her head, sending the ether washing over the whole room. The action seems to startle the others in the room, even though she’s been building the art for some time now.

The healing aura soothes the wounds of everyone present, so Nia can consider her role completed for now. Since she waited for Malos to return, she also won’t have to pull him off to the side later to handle any wounds he might’ve sustained from their trek, and she’s certain he has one or two, given how careless Rex seems to be for mitigating damage when in battle.

Speaking of Malos, she can’t help but notice that he’s giving her a look that’s either annoyance or some kind of roundabout gratefulness. She shrugs it off as her back hits the couch, sore muscles resisting her every movement. If he wants to complain, he can come talk to her in private. Actually, she does want to properly thank him for the whole business with Akhos this morning, so maybe he can complain to her once she’s gotten that out of the way.

Goal in mind, she leans forward and grabs the cloth bag of ingredients off the table, nodding to the others. The movement hurts, everything does right now, but she forces herself to stand and holds the bag up to show Malos.

“Went out and got what you asked for to go with all the meat.”

Malos is taking the bag Zenobia has, and of course, Zenobia feels nothing after everything today, so she’s still raring to go. “I wanted to go out and get more, but someone made me stop.”

“We can’t eat or carry that much meat,” Malos grunts. “If you want to be in charge of preserving it and carrying it around with us for the rest of time, then go for it.”

Zenobia pouts. “If it weren’t still raining, I’d go for my own hunting spree.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sure, just kill everything in Uraya while you’re at it. Be my guest.”

“Hey, don’t be silly, Malos,” she says, moving to lean against his arm. He pulls away smoothly, and Zenobia stumbles. If not for her frankly amazing control of the wind, she’d faceplant. “I’ve got to get stronger, right? You’ll never fight me otherwise.”

“I’m starting to regret telling Rex to resonate with you,” he mutters.

Nia bravely decides to step in. “Anyways, we’re all hungry, so come on, I’m starving. I’ll carry this into the kitchen for you, Malos.” She shoots him a meaningful look as she speaks.

He gives her nothing but a nod he shoves Zenobia away with just enough force for her to get the hint and lay off for once. Once he’s finally freed from her confines, he follows Nia, who’s started walking towards the kitchen.

Once they’re alone in the kitchen, Nia sets the bag of food on a counter with a sigh. “Listen. I wanted… to thank you for earlier. With Akhos. It’s not… he…”

Malos turns away from her, unpacking the food into some method of organization and searching for a proper knife. “They knew about you, then? Your old comrades?” He keeps his voice low out of respect for her secret.

Nia doesn’t hide her frown. “When I… joined them, it was because I’d been jailed and put to death for being… like this. They gave me a place to belong. I never made the choice to tell them, Jin knew somehow, and broke me out.”

“Jin, huh…”

She doesn’t miss the way his shoulders seem to sag a bit as he says the name. “Did you know him before?”

“I might’ve, once. But if he’s acting on Mythra’s side, he’s not the Jin I know.” He finds the knives and picks one without thinking.

Nia rocks on the balls of her feet as she watches him work. “Honestly, I wasn’t there long, but… It’s more like Mythra’s on Jin’s side than anything.”

Malos’s voice is ever so subtly strained as he begins cutting meat. “That so?”

Nia nods, bringing the ingredients over to Malos’s corner of the counter. “Yeah. Mythra’s a figurehead, sure, and the others all had their roles, but Jin gave all the orders, even if the plans weren’t all his.”

If she didn’t know any better, she’d think Malos was actually sad to hear her say it. (No, scratch that, he’s just as human as any other Blade.) The way his shoulders are slumped, the way his voice seems to be masking a certain weakness…

“Father, what happened to him?” he whispers to himself, and Nia feels guilty that she hears him. His words feel the most broken of anything Nia’s seen from him, and she instantly knows she shouldn’t have heard him.

“Hey,” she ventures. She’s suddenly painfully aware that she’s never really tried her hand at comforting others before, and looks away awkwardly. “I don’t know your history. Not with Jin or anyone else. The only things I know are stories from people who weren’t there. But… This isn’t just your problem, yeah? You’ve got me, and Rex, and everyone else to talk to if you need to. Rex needs to trust you as your Driver, but you also need to trust him as his Blade.”

Malos doesn’t look at her or say anything in response. His knifework slows slightly—a crack in the armor. Nia pounces on it.

“I get it. It’s the same as you trying to hide your situation with Rex. But however long you pressed on, feeling like the weight of Alrest was on your shoulders, is over now. From now on, it’s not just you, you’ve got people you can rely on, and I’ll be right mad if you don’t let us at least try to help you.”

His knifework pauses completely for a moment, and Nia glances at his hands from the corner of her eye, rearranging some vegetables idly.

“I’m not exactly… used to being able to rely on others,” he says.

It’s subtle, and maybe Nia’s just projecting, but she knows that tone of voice all too well. “…You’re scared.” She mentally winces at the observation. He’ll probably retreat back into his shell now…

Surprisingly, if he’s offended, he doesn’t say as much. Slowly, he goes back to cutting meat, slicing it into bite-sized cubes like Alrest depends on it.

Maybe right now, it does.

“So if you’re scared, what you do is start small,” she suggests. “You don’t have to rely on everyone else all at once or pull everyone together for some massive heart-to-heart session where you tell us all about your past or anything. Right now, just let one person help you.”

Maybe he’ll listen better with an extra push. Nia grabs a kitchen knife, a spare cutting board, and some carrots. Before the knife can even touch the vegetables, however, Malos speaks up.

“You’re holding the knife wrong,” cuts through the silence, “and that’s not the right kind of knife.”

She looks up to find him watching her. “Eh? A knife is a knife.” Not to mention that she’s never had a problem holding her knives like this.

He sighs, but it doesn’t seem quite as exasperated as usual. “You’re holding it like a combat knife. You’re not fighting, though. So you need to adjust your grip for cooking.”

“I don’t…”

“Okay, first, put that knife down. Use this one.” He reaches over and grabs a seemingly random knife off the rack beside him. “Take your gloves off, too.”

She obeys, however confused, and accepts the knife he holds out to her once her gloves are off. “What’s wrong with this knife?”

“It’s a paring knife. You’d use that particular knife for preparing fish or meats. The knife I gave you is better suited to cutting vegetables.” He replaces the knife Nia had been trying to use in its spot on the rack, and picks his own back up. “See how I’m gripping this?”

Nia looks at his grip, then back down to her own. Where he’s got fingers steadying the blade, she’s wrapped all five around the handle—she adjusts her grip to mirror his, and he nods before turning back to his own knifework.

“Wash the carrots first. Your hands too, while you’re at it. Then, cut the tops off and slice them in half longways,” he instructs.

They fall into a rhythm like this; no more conversations about the past or the future or any of the things the two of them are too scared about to say out loud.

Just Malos, telling Nia exactly how she can help him, and Nia, helping him.

~

“Why… are you here?” Malos says, sitting up from his position at the base of the tree. He’s in Elysium once again, after having fallen asleep in the inn in Uraya.

Rex shrugs his shoulders, equally as confused. “Beats me. I just woke up here.”

Something seems off about the statement, but Malos leaves it. Not his place, anyway.

Besides, he’s more concerned at how the brat is here. “I guess bringing you here once opened the door for you, or something.”

“Could it be this?” Rex asks, gesturing to the purple ‘x’ on his chest. It’s something the two haven’t been thinking about, not since all this started, but Malos supposes it does warrant his attention.

And it makes sense. “Yeah, probably that too.”

They fall into silence. Malos stares out at the church on the horizon, the bell ever-ringing.

After some time, Rex sits next to him, looking out over the horizon with some type of wonder. “Has that bell always been ringing?”

“Yeah,” Malos says. “Hasn’t ever stopped since I went to sleep.”

“You don’t ever get tired of it?”

“I did, once. When I first went to sleep it was like a nightmare. The bell never stopped.” For once, Malos feels okay to show some level of vulnerability. “I got used to it after Father knows how long. It doesn’t feel like there’s any time here.”

“I get that,” Rex says. “Must be maddening.”

“Somehow, it’s comforting after all this time. Although I haven’t come back here since I woke up.”

“So this isn’t normal for you?”

Malos shakes his head. “No. It makes sense that I’d be able to return, since this Elysium is just a place in my memory, but I wasn’t… trying to.”

Rex sighs, his shoulders appearing heavy. “Sorry, just… I’m asleep, but I still feel tired.”

“I get that, kid.”

“Do you?” Rex asks, and it seems he’s not intending to come across as bitter-sounding as he does. “Sorry. You just seem so… strong. Everything happens, and you’re always just looking ahead, like nothing really bothers you.”

“You learn to look ahead after years of being stuck on the past. I had 500 years to worry about shit. After a while, you just don’t worry anymore.”

“Things don’t bother you, then?”

“I can get annoyed. That’s not what I… Look.” Malos leans forward, rubbing his temples. “I don’t really… like showing my emotions. It’s not that I don’t have any.”

“It’s alright to, you know.”

“I know,” Malos says. The look Rex gives him feels like a ‘do you really?’, but he ignores it. “It’s something I’d have to work up to.”

“That’s okay. You can take your time as much as you need.” Rex pauses. “To be honest, you’ve already been doing really well with opening up.”

The words temporarily stun Malos. “What.”

“Yeah. Like how back when we first got to Uraya, and you thanked me for lending you the lamp.”

“I was trying not to think about that,” Malos says with a groan. “This whole… talking to people thing, is new to me. I didn’t really do that, back with Addam and the others.”

“Can you tell me? About Addam?”

“There’s not much to tell,” Malos lies. Of course he could go on about Addam, or his time with Jin, and could probably talk for hours about it, but…

Let’s be perfectly clear here. He doesn’t want to.

So he doesn’t. He keeps his trap shut on his past, and Rex, whether he’s being polite or is simply too scared to press the matter, doesn’t keep asking for now.

“Sorry,” Rex says instead, and shifts in his seat on the ground. “Actually, I didn’t just wake up here. I was… dreaming on my own, before this.”

Malos can’t honestly say he cares, but he humors the kid. “Yeah?”

He nods. “I keep having dreams about the night we found you,” he continues. “Can’t imagine many people can say they remember dyin’.”

Oh. Ohhhh. Rex looks vulnerable, actually vulnerable, and it occurs to Malos that he really has become the Blade of someone who’s just a kid. Addam had always been looking forward. He was a prince, leader of a militia fighting for peace, of course he was stronger than Rex is. This kid was probably just trying to make some money, and now he’s stuck with… well, trauma, an insurmountable task, and Malos.

“I felt myself die again, and I was wishin’ for a way away from it, and then I was here again. Away from all that. Guess this isn’t just a dream, though.”

Guilt creeps in at the edge of Malos’s consciousness, if only for a moment.

“Are you glad that you’re alive now?”

Rex pauses. “Yeah. I don’t… like that I can remember it, but being alive? Getting a chance to reach the real Elysium? It’s more than I could have dreamed of before.”

“Good,” Malos says, and the guilt lifts. “Good.”

~

For the first time in ages, Malos wakes up from a night of restful sleep. 500 years of being dormant at the bottom of the cloud sea notwithstanding, he doesn’t remember the last time he truly slept. Yeah, he’d close his eyes and lay down in the dirt and not say anything to anyone or get up for a while, but it never really did much of anything before.

Cooking with Nia had been surprisingly relaxing. Back in Torna, with Addam and the others, he never wanted to cook with anyone. Addam was completely hopeless when it came to cooking, so he’d been in charge before they came across Lora and Jin. Jin was skilled, but too quiet. Cooking with him had been unnerving.

Strange, then, that Nia’s silence when helping him cook was more of a comfort. By all rights, he’d liked Jin more than he’d ever like Nia, and to be honest, more than he’d cared to admit.

Maybe that’s why learning he was at the head of the new Torna hurt so much. And Malos was never hurt, by anything. He’d spent the past 500 years dealing with his grief in complete isolation, with only his memories to deal with, and more painful than learning he’d failed to do his one job, his only purpose, while defeating Mythra originally was the fact that when he finally woke up, one of the first things he learned was that Jin was decidedly no longer his ally.

He wanted—no, needed—to know why Jin was like this now, what had happened to him. It went against everything Malos had learned of Jin during their short time together. What makes a borderline pacifist turn into the leader of a terrorist organization siding with an Aegis who wants to eradicate humanity?

And yet, somehow Malos didn’t feel like Jin would be quite so willing to answer why he was part of this Torna, why he now supported the wrong Aegis. Frankly, he wasn’t all that interested in the labor it would take to find out.

He’s an Aegis, Father’s sake. His job is to eradicate the problem before it causes any more trouble, not talk with it about its feelings. No matter what Addam had told him before they parted, that wasn’t about to change.

Then, he thought, why do you continue to act alongside these people?

The idea stuns him, a bit. He can’t tell whether he’s more shocked that he had the thought at all, or more shocked that he’s never thought of it before. It would be so… easy, to just leave. Keep the boy away from the knowledge of society. No one would have to know who his Driver is, or be able to try to attack him in hopes that Malos would deign to act as their Blade instead, and he wouldn’t have to put up with constant challenges to fight from Zenobia.

He shakes the thought off. Sure, Mythra may be able to act without her Driver, even what must be ages past Amalthus’s death, but the thought of acting like Mythra almost turns his stomach.

Besides, he’d never be able to live with himself if he revived the kid, only to let him die in his absence. Mostly because he’s gotten to the point where he’s almost positive he’ll end up dead if he does. The way he seems to be taking on any damage Rex receives doesn’t bode well for his supposed immortality, at least.

He briefly wonders whether he made the right choice in reviving the kid.

Of course you did. If not, you might not have woken up before Mythra restored her core.

Of course. Of course. And anyways, there’s no use wondering about the what-ifs at this point.

Malos pushes himself out of bed and moves to get started on breakfast before the others wake up. He’s feeling strangely energetic now. Maybe that’s what actually getting sleep for once does to you.

He glances around the room. If Rex is awake, he’s not giving any indication of it. Looks like Malos is the early riser as usual, if not sleeping counts as being up early. He grabs the bag of coin Rex normally carries and walks out. It’s time to go grocery shopping.

The sun is rising over the city of Fonsa Myma when he leaves the inn to go shopping. If he weren’t the only one of their number awake, he’d make someone else go deal with the bustle of early risers and merchants in the marketplace.

Still, the amount of people could definitely be worse, so Malos pushes through and returns to the inn with ingredients for a proper breakfast for everyone. The addition of Roc and Vandham makes cooking for everyone an even bigger ordeal, and they’re starting to run out of gold. He makes the mental note to talk to the others about getting some more gold on hand so they can keep this travelling thing up.

Malos pockets the bag of gold for now, and sets about breakfast. He’s hyper focused on cooking, so much so that he almost doesn’t notice the sound of someone entering the kitchen.

“Good morning,” someone says, and Malos nearly flings the pan of bacon he’s frying. Poppi stands in the doorway, an innocent, blank look on her face. “Friend sleep well?”

Malos grunts, turning his attention back to the stove. “Yeah, guess I did.”

Chapter Text

Rex stirs awake at the smell of food drifting into the room. Waking up like this feels like a far-off memory—when was the last time he woke up to someone else’s cooking? He can’t help but think how he missed waking up like this. It’s nice.

He lays in bed for several minutes, staring up at the ceiling and taking in the environment.

He’d noticed yesterday morning, but the waking up in a real bed is absolutely luxurious. Not to mention the luxury of waking up without the sensation of a constricting chest or a short burst of panic, the kind that has his hands moving to the center of his chest before he’s even registered that he’s alive.

He rests his hand just above the core crystal, running fingers not over the crystal itself, but on the ridges that extend in a perfect line from opposite corners of the purple ‘x’. The scarring is comparatively fine—no angry reds glaring at him, just a soft pink and a ridge to remind him of his own death.

Running his fingers over the scar, he privately thinks that waking up at all is a luxury he’s lucky to afford.

~

When Rex finally drags himself out of bed and into the kitchen, he finds Malos cooking breakfast, which isn’t surprising. He can’t think of who else would be cooking so early.

What is surprising is the fact that he’s chatting with Poppi while he does it, and doesn’t seem to be overly annoyed at her presence. Granted, he’s still obviously annoyed, but…

“—that why Poppi must insist tomatoes are actually fruit. Logic make perfect sense.”

“They’re not fruit, that’s stupid,” Malos insists. “No one picks up a tomato and eats it like a fruit. If you put a tomato in a fruit salad I would personally have to mercy kill you.”

“But tomato not act like carrot or sumpkin. Is totally different makeup. Based on tomato seeds and growth, tomato must be—”

“No, fuck that, that’s not how these things should be classed!”

Rex makes the executive decision to speak up in this moment. “Good mornin’,” he says, thankfully stopping Poppi from furthering the argument.

“Oh, it Rex-Rex. Good morning!” She waves to him with a smile. He responds with his own, less energetic wave.

“Would friend like to hear tomato theories of Poppi?” she asks, and he freezes a bit at the notion. Sure, he’s interested, but it’s too early in the morning to push Malos much further. He’s only got so much patience per day, after all, and it’d be a tragedy if it all got used up before he finished making breakfast for everyone.

“No, no, that’s all right,” he says. “Bit too tired for that, anyway.”

“Friend not sleep okay?” Poppi tilts her head with a frown.

He shakes his head and sweeps his eyes over the room. Looks like he, Malos, and Poppi are the first ones awake this morning. Malos, no longer being force-fed highly controversial facts about tomatoes, has turned his attention back to the sizzle of the pan.

“Haven’t slept great in a while, really,” he admits. “Weird dreams, although they were better last night.”

“Truthfully, Poppi not understand concept of dream. Masterpon describe it like watching play while sleep, but Poppi does not sleep. Rex-rex say dreams bad?”

He mulls over his thoughts for a moment before trying to explain. “Dreams are... they can be bad, or they can be good. Recently for me, they’ve been mostly bad.”

“Understood. Poppi will update database to further understanding of ‘dreams’.” Poppi nods and spaces out for just a moment, her eyes appearing to lose focus for a few moments. Once she’s done, she makes eye contact again and smiles.

They continue to chat for some time—by the time Malos is done making breakfast, the others have all woken up on their own or had Poppi ordered to come after them. The rest of the morning is spent lazily chatting, switching topics whenever they wind down. Rex spends some time with Vandham, who teaches him more about being a Driver until lunchtime.

At lunch, Vandham brings his Driver crash course to an end as he stands. “Well, if everyone’s ready, we can go see Cole now.”

“About time,” Malos says. He’s spent the majority of the morning hanging out in the corner, halfway listening to the conversations around him without ever really contributing. Rex almost forgot he was there.

“Right then, follow me and I’ll take ya to ‘im.” Vandham leads them—out of the inn, into the midday bustle of Fonsa Myma. Plenty of people are out and about now that it’s sunny and daytime, from all walks of life. It reminds Rex of Argentum, save for the line of people cutting several feet into the central plaza.

“Cole heads the theatre troupe up in Mymoma Playhouse. Hope you like stairs, because there’s quite a few of them on the way.”

“By the way, Rex,” Nia says, “what did you do with all that money from the Torna job?”

He pauses. There’s the vague sense that he’s done something wrong. “What?”

“You got paid a hundred thousand gold in advance, but I wouldn’t know from the cash you gave me for food shopping yesterday. In fact… We’re almost out. How'd you go through all that gold so fast?”

“Oh,” he says. “Yeah, I sent most of it back to Auntie Corrine. Only kept about twenty of it for myself.”

Nia gives him the most deadpan look he’s ever seen from her; the ‘are you serious’ is implied. “Well, that’s all well and good, but now we’ve seriously got something to do about money, or we won’t be able to afford to get out of Uraya, let alone have places to stay, food to eat...”

Rex rubs the back of his neck. “In my defense, I wasn’t really expectin’ to need it. Not every day you become a Driver, die, or any of that. We’ve technically shipwrecked twice so far, and it’s only been about a week.”

“For someone who was that excited about the money, you sure didn’t seem very keen on keeping it,” she comments, lips quirking in a teasing grin.

He shrugs. “I usually send money back home. Auntie Corrine needs it more than I ever could, so I send part of every check. Anyway, we can figure out something to do about money after we go talk to Cole.”

“Sure, sure, we’ll figure it out then.” There’s a touch of sarcasm to her voice, but Rex chooses, rightly so, to ignore it. He gently reminds himself that arguing isn’t worth it.

Luckily, before he can say anything else for her to disagree with, Vandham pauses, forcing Rex to stop walking as well.

He curiously follows Vandham’s gaze, eventually spotting a young girl with hair a shade of bluish-green that’s typical of Urayans. She’s carrying a small bag to her chest with both hands, and she’s just navigated her way out of the crowd of people carefully.

Despite her tiny frame, the girl navigates the area with ease, climbing the steps towards where they’ve stopped to wait for Vandham.

Malos lets out a dissatisfied noise. “Is there a reason we’ve stopped?”

“Calm yourself there, big guy,” Vandham says with a smile. He takes a step out of the group for a moment and stops directly in the girl’s path. “Iona!”

The girl jumps a bit, clutching the bag in her hands closer to her chest before realizing who’s confronted her. “Mister Vandham!” She smiles up at him. “What’re you doing in Fonsa Myma?”

Vandham laughs, placing a hand on her back and guiding her back over to where Rex and the others are waiting (some not so patiently) for him to finish greeting her. “Got some friends to introduce to your grandpa. How’s the old guy doing?”

The girl’s face falls. “Not great.”

“Ah, I see.” Vandham frowns. “Well, maybe a visit’ll help get him in higher spirits. Come on, Iona, I’ll introduce you to these guys on the way up.”

Iona nods, glancing at their ragtag group. At the sight of Malos, she moves a bit closer to Vandham, saying something to Vandham in too quiet a voice for Rex to hear. Vandham replies with a boisterous laugh. “Come on, now, I’m scarier than most of them. That big guy’s Malos, and this here’s Poppi. She’s not so scary, is she?”

Poppi waves to the girl, and Iona carefully approaches. “Pleased to be meeting friend. My name Poppi. What is yours?”

The girl takes a few more steps further, eyes darting back and forth between Poppi and Malos. “M-my name’s Iona. Are you a… Blade?”

“That right. Poppi artificial Blade created by masterpon.” Poppi smiles, and Iona seems to relax a bit.

Malos, on the other hand, is getting progressively more annoyed with the standing around, and says as much. “Alright, we can do introductions on the way. Can we please keep moving? There were other things we needed to get done today.”

Iona stiffens, grabbing Roc’s leg and hiding behind them with a tiny squeak. Rex almost reprimands Malos for scaring her, but honestly, she seems so flighty that it might just be because Malos spoke at all, and not worth bringing up. Still, Roc scoops her up gently and she giggles, letting them carry her as they begin moving again at Malos’s behest.

They arrive at the plaza of Mymoma Playhouse after a bit of walking, and Vandham makes the rest of the introductions along the way. Iona happens to be Cole’s granddaughter, which really works out with running in to her on the way to see Cole.

When Rex pokes his head into the playhouse, the lights are dark, a dim beam of light peeking out of a slightly open door. He can barely hear the sounds from within—an actor, delivering a dramatic set of lines with gusto against the backdrop of faint music. He backs out of the playhouse and turns to his travelling companions.

“I think there’s a show going on right now. Should we wait out here?” he asks. Iona says something quietly to Vandham, Roc, and Poppi (the only ones in the group she doesn’t seem to be afraid of) and scampers into the building on her own. Rex watches her go before Vandham answers.

“She’s going to head to the back to talk to Cole. We can watch the rest of the show while we wait, since he won’t be able to talk until after the show anyway.”

Nia looks over from where she’d been looking over various posters displayed on the theatre’s walls. They seem to be advertisements for the different shows the theatre puts on. “Might be fun. Haven’t been to see a play in years. What’re they showing?”

“It would appear to be The Heroic Adventures of Addam, my Lady,” Dromarch says, nodding to the most prominently displayed poster of the bunch.

Addam? Rex turns over the name in his mind. Wasn’t that the name of Malos’s old Driver? After a moment of thinking, he’s sure it was. “Are we sure that’s the best idea?” He not-so-subtly nods towards Malos, and Nia nods in understanding.

Malos scoffs. “You guys can go in and watch the play. I don’t care.” He’s looking off at something in the crowd, with an unreadable expression.

“Friend not going to watch play with us? Poppi’s database say plays very good form of entertaining!”

Malos doesn’t bother dignifying Poppi with a response. “I’ll wait outside. Go watch the play.”

“You sure?” Nia asks, raising an eyebrow. “We can do something else if you’re not into it.”

“I’m not repeating myself a second time,” he answers bluntly.

Nia and Rex share a look, and Rex eventually gives in. “Alright,” Rex decides, “we’ll come get you when all of this is over. Stay somewhere we can find you, alright?”

Malos doesn’t answer. Rex withholds his sigh and enters the theatre with the others, leaving Malos to his own devices. He can’t help but think maybe they shouldn’t go see this play for Malos’s sake, but if he’s going to insist, they might as well.

When they get their—thankfully discounted—tickets at the counter and filter into the theatre quietly, they take the row of seats at the back. Onstage, a man in a robe fights against strange creatures to the tune of intense music. The creatures are dressed in pure white, with faces that can’t be seen from Rex’s distance, and they move in a way that’s almost creepy.

The hateful light, believed by some to be righteous punishment, sent from the Architect, claimed countless many lives. It soon became to be that the hope itself was diminishing from our fair Alrest…

The actor who must be Addam is surrounded by the strange creatures, clearly outnumbered…

When the light and terror had engulfed the land, and when Addam thought all was lost…

It was then that Addam offered a prayer to Elysium, asking for any way to rescue this land’s hopeless situation.

The stage is suddenly engulfed in a painfully bright light, just as the creatures lunge for Addam. Rex squints against the light as Addam yells.

“O Architect! I ask for your blessing, that we may quell this furious light which threatens to purge life itself!”

And so the Architect heard him, and sent forth a Blade from the heavens in the form of a man who carried with him enough darkness to quell the furious light, and return hope to the land.

The blinding amount of light onstage dims suddenly, plunging the stage into a comparative darkness. Rex blinks against the shroud, and a dim light follows, revealing a shadow descending from above the stage. It hovers above Addam and the pile of creatures as a gentle light illuminates its form.

The figure does not speak, but waves a silent hand in a grand gesture that scatters feathers and what looks like glitter towards the ground.. The lights raise to a normal level as the creatures recoil from Addam and fall below the stage and out of sight, one at a time.

The battle between this Blade—the Aegis himself—and the Light raged on, and Addam watched as this Aegis fought the Light with a ferocity man could never hope to know. But the Light was just as ferocious, and so the blight on Alrest continued for some time longer.

However, the Light could not engulf the world forever. Like the fire which burns twice as bright, the Aegis fought the Light with all his might, and several more still were to be lost in the flames. When the battle had ended, and when the Light and the Aegis could fight no longer, the Aegis remained standing amongst the wreckage, the Light nowhere to be found.

The shadow at the top of the stage lowers to the ground, slumping dramatically as the last creature falls. Addam stands over the shadow’s form, looking at it mournfully as the curtains begin to lower on the scene.

It is said that after this, the heavenly Blade was exhausted, and fell into a deep slumber. Addam hid the Aegis as his last message to the world he loved and disappeared. It was his hope that, one day, someone would come who’d find this heavenly Blade, and protect Alrest once more, when Alrest needed the heavenly Blade’s protection the most.

Addam would live the rest of his days in a quiet peace, and the heavenly Blade slumbers still, until the day his presence is needed once again.

The curtains close completely, and what must be only moments later, they raise with the lights of the theatre, revealing what must be the entire cast of the production onstage. Applause begins filling the theatre, and so Rex begins clapping as well—after all, what he did see of the production was good—and continues until the cast has stopped its bowing.

“Guess we must’ve come in right at the end, huh?” Nia says as she stretches.

Zenobia yawns exaggeratedly, stretching her entire body out. “Wasn’t that kinda boring? It would’ve been cool if we got to see, like, an actual fight scene or something.”

“Do you ever think about anything other than fighting?” Nia teases.

Zenobia grins toothily in response. “Of course I don’t! What else is there to even think about? Besides, if you’re always thinking ahead to your next fight, then you’re never caught off guard.”

Rex sighs as he brings himself to his feet. “Gramps and I’ll go get Malos from outside, then.” When no one raises any objections or offers to tag along, Rex makes his way outside with the other theatregoers and searches the plaza for him.

With Gramps’s help, Malos is found loitering against a far wall, paging through a thick book that Rex has never seen before in his life. It’s a bit tough pushing through the people, but years of navigating Goldmouth’s ports has led to a reasonable amount of experience getting through the people without too many injuries or too much trouble.

“There you are!” Rex says. Malos glances up from his book with a disinterested look.

The man in question sighs heavily, placing a strip of cloth Rex doesn’t recognize on the page he’d been reading and shutting the book. “We ready to go meet this guy now?”

Rex nods, glancing at the book curiously. “Where’d you get that?” He really hopes Malos didn’t go around stealing or threatening anyone for that book while they were inside. Not that he thinks Malos would, but…

“I went looking around at some of the stalls while waiting for the show to finish. Before I went to sleep, it wasn’t nearly so easy to just walk around the city and find books for sale. Let alone so many of them.”

“Really? What kind of book is it?” Sure, Rex had read a few books every now and then, but mostly salvaging guides when he was starting out, or one of the books Auntie Corrinne had back in Fonsett.

“It’s a rough history of Alrest. Thought it might be worth it to figure out what’s been going on in the past few hundred years since I’ve been asleep.” Malos rolls his shoulder casually. “Come on, let’s go.”

Rex grapples for a reply as he follows Malos through the crowd. Returning to the theatre is so much easier when walking behind him—his imposing presence parts the crowd effortlessly, and he seems to navigate with all the confidence the Aegis can muster.

It’s actually Gramps who saves the conversation. “Yes, I suppose books would be more common than in your time, Malos. They’ve made quite a few advancements in Tantal concerning the production of paper, and last time I was in Argentum, I heard a few Nopon talk of a new ink based on ether.”

“Ether-based ink?” Rex echoes, glancing over his shoulder at the titan. “How does that work?”

“I imagine it’s still being tested, but perhaps they’ve found a way to extract it from the air.”

Malos grunts. “The next time I wake up from a 500 year nap, someone’ll have figured out a way to bind books with a bunch of machines or something. What’s so great about this ‘ether-based’ ink, anyway?”

“They say it can glow in the dark,” Gramps says.

“Yeah, I’d like to see that.” He snorts.

“It would be difficult to visit Tantal, unfortunately. They’ve become quite the reclusive Titan in past years.”

As they approach the theatre, Rex finally has a chance to breathe. Everyone is waiting for them in the lobby. At the sight of Zenobia excitedly zipping around the group as she talks, Rex’s moment to breathe officially ends.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Rex says as they approach the group. “Had some trouble finding Malos in the crowds.”

“Not a problem, kid,” Vandham says, placing a hand on Rex’s shoulder as he approaches.

Within moments Zenobia is on his free shoulder. “Rex! My Driver, who I appreciate and whose judgement is never to be ignored!”

“…what is it, Zenobia?” Rex asks, shifting uncomfortably as she presses about half her weight into his shoulder. If not for the very not covered Blade on his shoulder, he’d probably take a moment to be amazed at the wind control she’s exhibiting.

“After we talk to this Cole guy, we should go pick a fight with someone strong!”

Rex blinks slowly at her. “Er, why?”

She merely scoffs. “I’m bored. All we’ve done today is go to some play, walk around, and eat. If I don’t get to fight someone soon, I’ll have to make them fight me!” As she speaks, her eyes dart mischievously to Malos. “Hey, Malos, do you think—”

“Remember what I said?”

Zenobia pouts as him, prying herself off Rex to get closer to Malos. “Well, no, I’m not there yet, but come on! I’m a growing Blade! I need exercise, and excitement!”

“Go hunting or something. I’m sure no one would complain if you went out and did some hunting. Right now, even, if you can’t be bothered to keep quiet while we’re talking.” Malos smoothly sidesteps her attempts to drape herself across his arm. “And stop trying to touch me. Your affection-whatever is weird enough with your refusal to wear a shirt.”

Zenobia continues to pout, crossing her arms. “You are seriously so unfun. Say, Vandham, are you okay with me sparring with good old Roccy later?”

Roc, usually quiet, speaks up. “Shouldn’t I have a say in this sparring session?”

“No need!” Zenobia is by Roc’s side in moments, grinning widely. “I can buy that Malos doesn’t want to go too far with his power or whatever. But you’re not capable of destroying a titan, so there’s no reason to turn me down! Vandham, what do you say?”

Vandham laughs. “Sure, if the old bird’s up for it, go for it. Just go outside the city, will you? Can’t be causing a disturbance out in front of everyone.”

“Yes! Thanks Vandham, you won’t regret it!”

A new voice enters the fray, quietly. “Um…”

Rex turns to the source of the voice. The girl from earlier, Iona, he thinks, stands at the entrance to the hallway. “Grandpa’s okay to see everyone now…”

“Alright,” Rex says. Looking at her now, he’s definitely seen her type in some of the kids in Fonsett. He drops his voice to a more soothing tone and crouches down just a bit to speak to her. “Thanks for letting us know. Can you take us to him?”

She nods silently, looking around at the rest of their group intently for a moment before disappearing down the hallway. He follows with the others down the hall, around another corner, before she stops at a door at the end of the hall.

Vandham takes the lead, opening the door to reveal a small room, cluttered with all sorts of scrolls, books, and artifacts. The room’s a bit dusty, but in the corner, where an old man sits at a cluttered desk with some book or another open in front of him, it’s significantly less dusty.

The man turns to face them, smiling calmly as his gaze lands on Vandham, then on Malos. “Ah, it’s been quite some time…”

“Hasn’t been that long,” Vandham says cheerily. “Brought some friends here to see ya. But first, how are ya, old man?”

Cole’s gaze drifts back to Vandham, his smile staying steadfast. He clears his throat roughly. “Much of the same. It’s been a while since you’ve visited, comrade.”

“‘Comrade’?” Malos echoes, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, the old man and I go way back. Used to be freelancers together back in the day!”

Cole nods. “Although, thanks to a certain someone, we hardly ever got paid.”

Vandham laughs. “The guy in the theatre troupe is lecturing me about pay.”

“Well, I never claimed to be money-minded. So, what brings you to see me today?”

“About that… you’re old, ain’t ya, Cole?” Vandham’s voice drops to a serious tone. “Old enough that you might even know how to climb that World Tree.”

Cole’s eyes roam over everyone for a moment. Rex shifts uncomfortably under his gaze—it feels like he’s being looked straight through. Finally, after much too long, Cole speaks. “I may know someone who could help. I’d have to go looking for something in this room to give you. Come back tomorrow and I’ll have it. But first, I would like to speak with the Aegis in private. Consider it a selfish request from an old man.”

Malos looks up in surprise at this, then nods. “Do what you want.”

“Alright, then… I guess… we’ll step out?”

Malos nods, and Rex and the other file out of the room, leaving Rex to hope that Malos will be all right. Maybe it’s misplaced, but he holds on to his worries anyways as they wait in the lobby and decide on what to do with the rest of their day.

~

Zenobia gleefully zips out of Fonsa Myma’s gate the moment Rex gives the word. Sure, they’re supposed to go hunting together, but she’s sure he’ll catch up soon enough. She’s spent too long indoors today! It’s time to fight!

She briefly considers that it might be rude to leave Rex too far behind on this little outing. Sure, she could easily go hunting and bring back meat to sell on her own, but she slows a bit as she realizes there was probably a reason Rex asked if they could hunt together.

Rex catches up, panting slightly as he slows from the sprint he’d been keeping up to find her. “Zenobia! You can’t just run off like that, you know!”

She nods, giving Rex a toothy grin as she surveys the landscape for some proper prey. “Sorry, sorry. I’ve just been so cooped up today! You can hardly blame me when I’ve been following everyone around so quietly! I didn’t even pick any fights in the city!”

“Do Malos and Roc not count?” Rex asks, raising an eyebrow.

Zenobia visibly deflates at the memory of her failed attempt to spar with Roc. Vandham had agreed to letting her spar with them and everything, but even Roc refused to fight her! She’d thought it’d have been a fun matchup, too…

“Still upset that Roc rejected you?” Rex asks.

Zenobia responds by throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. “Yes!” she shouts. A few nearby birds scatter from the noise. “Malos won’t fight me, Roc will only fight me if Vandham tells them to, and Tora and Poppi are cool, but they’re still so… green! I wanna fight someone with experience, someone I can mess around with without worrying too much about their skill level! Someone who’s actually thinking about the fight! A good fight challenges me as much as it challenges my opponent!”

Rex frowns, watching her rant. His hand falls to the sword at his waist, Malos’s sword, and Zenobia watches him throw an idea around in his head for a moment.

She tilts her head curiously. “You’re thinking of something.” It’s a simple observation, but it’s enough to get Rex’s eyes to widen in shock for a moment.

He nods. “Caught me. I’m not as experienced or as powerful as Malos or Roc are, but… I could spar with you.”

Zenobia herself is unprepared for the way her own face lights up as the prospect. “That’s a great idea! You don’t look like it at all, but you definitely have a lot of potential to be fun to fight with some experience!”

Rex shrinks back a bit at her enthusiasm, but nods all the same. “But go easy on me, alright? I’m not like Roc or Malos.”

She nods quickly. “Right, right! I know already, so don’t worry, okay? I’ve said this before, but I couldn’t call myself a good fighter if I didn’t know how to hold back!” Without any more warning, she draws her axe, lunging for Rex with a gleeful cry. She’s too pent up to not give him at least a little bit of a rough time—other than the fight with Vandham, Yew, and Zuo the other day, she can’t remember the last time she had a really good fight.

Rex draws Malos’s sword just in time, blocking her swing and bracing himself against the force. She grins as he struggles against the weight of her blow, focusing her will into the ether to bend the wind around her. Just as she wanted, the wind blows her back, putting some distance between her and Rex.

He adopts a defensive posture, gripping the sword in both hands before him. Zenobia slings the axe over her shoulder effortlessly, resting it across the back of her neck. “Not bad, Rex. I’d expect my Driver to be able to block an easy attack like that, though!” She lunges back in for another attack.

And so they come to blows. Practiced ones, where Zenobia’s effortlessly avoiding doing any real damage, and Rex is trying his hardest to do the same. She doesn’t blame him when he does accidentally almost slice her arm or cause any real damage—she’s prepared for the mistakes to come, and she knows well that holding back takes just as much practice as causing real damage to someone does.

“Hey, Zenobia,” Rex says after they’ve brought the sparring session to a close. He’s got a few bruises, a scrape or two, but all in all, things went pretty well. “Why do you want to fight Malos so badly?”

“Isn’t it obvious? He’s the end goal. The final boss. He has so much power and skill that he can destroy anything. Anyone who calls themselves a fighter and means it would want to fight someone so strong!”

“Okay…” Rex pauses, eyes darting upwards as he runs his next question through his head. “Then let me ask you this. Why do you like fighting so much?”

She hums as she considers the question, carefully balancing her greataxe on its end. “That’s a good question. I can’t answer it completely, if I’m being honest.” How could she, when by the nature of her existence she couldn’t possibly remember?

“But… I think fighting is a really good way to learn stuff about your opponent. I can handle normal conversation, I guess, but I understand the language of battle more than anything. You remember what Malos said after that sparring match we had with Vandham and his friends?”

“Yeah?”

The axe stands, assisted greatly by Zenobia’s intent control of the wind around it. She keeps her eyes on it until she’s certain it’s stable. “I agree with him completely. If you know the language of battle, there’s so much you can understand from fighting someone, even if it’s not a serious fight. I’m not as good at getting that kind of understanding otherwise.”

Rex watches her silently for a moment, and her eyes dart to the land bridge they’d hiked across on their way to Fonsa Myma. An idea blooms at the back of her mind as she grins.

“Besides, it’s a lot of fun! What better way to burn off energy than absolutely crushing the competition?” She flashes an enthusiastic smile and grabs the handle of the axe she’d so carefully balanced, releasing her control on the wind and flipping the axe around in one hand. “Now then, it’s getting late. We came out here because we’re short on cash, right?”

Rex doesn’t reply for a moment, merely watching her with his mouth agape at her sudden change of pace.

“Right!” she declares, resting the axe over her shoulder once more. “But, I’ve got a better idea than just killing some random animals for meat!”

“What’s that?”

She grabs his arm, dragging him along towards the land bridge. “There’s a den of ignas just across this bridge. Ignas like to group up together and harass people like that, and they love stealing from merchants!” As she explains her plan, Rex catches his feet up with her pace, jogging before Zenobia can accidentally pull him into the mud. “So, I go sweep out the entrance to the igna den, and then once it’s safe, you come with me inside to grab some of the treasure they’ve stocked up and bring it back to the city!”

“Shouldn’t I go in with you from the start—”

Zenobia shakes her head, mercifully slowing down as they approach the far end of the land bridge. “You’re still on recovery, according to Nia. Better not strain you any more after that concussion you got!” Besides, though she doesn’t say it, she’s still got a lot of fight to get out today, and the unfair odds of marching into an igna den might just be enough to give her a proper challenge.

“Wait, you agreed to spar with me, knowing that—”

Zenobia never lets him finish. “Wait here,” she calls over her shoulder before zipping off towards the cave mouth.

Rex sighs and takes a seat on a nearby rock, watching the entrance of the cave as Zenobia disappears inside. He supposes he’ll have to just wait, then.

~

Malos’s eyes open to the lush field of grass he’s so used to seeing after so long. He’s half expecting to see Rex laying around once again, but he doesn’t see a blue salvaging suit or his Driver anywhere. Doesn’t feel his presence through their shared core crystal, either.

Rex’s absence feels a bit misplaced. Not particularly because Malos wanted to see the boy even in his dreams, which is just as incorrect as it is impossible for Malos to ever admit to, but more so because he still doesn’t feel alone.

Someone’s here.

Someone whose presence can only mean trouble.

Brilliant white and long blonde hair flashes around the tree trunk as Mythra casually steps into his line of vision. She has a look on her face—a deceptive smile, one that doesn’t suit her face and never has. The face of someone who may very well be having fun.

“What the fuck do you want?” he says, cutting off what would surely have been a supremely saccharine greeting.

She folds her arms across her chest, the grin not dropping from her face for a single moment. “I’m sorry,” she says, drawing out the ‘y’ just a smidge too long, “I wasn’t aware I needed an invitation. I just wanted to talk with my brother for a bit.”

“Don’t act like we’re friendly.” Destructive power, the feeling of darkness, pools into the palm of his right hand like breathing.

“Ah ah ah!” Mythra says, wagging a finger tauntingly. “You don’t want to try that. This is just a dream, you know? You can’t do anything to hurt me here.

“Besides, there’s no telling what your body might be doing in Alrest while you use that power here. You might wake up in nothing but wreckage, having killed and destroyed lives even as you slept. Doesn’t that sound a bit familiar?”

The power ebbs away at will, but Malos doesn’t dare drop his defensive stance or his suspicious glare. He watches her silently, hatefully.

“But, you know,” Mythra continues, “it might be worth it to listen to me. I don’t make courtesy calls over nothing, you know. I’ve got a lot going on, I’m a busy woman!”

Malos snorts. “Are you going to tell me what you’re here for, or are you just going to waste my time all night?”

Mythra smirks, examining her fingernails with an amused glance. “We’ve kidnapped that Flesh Eater’s girl. We can talk more when you come to get her back.”

“And you think I’m going to take your blatant attempt to bait me… why?” He rolls his eyes. “One girl, the fate of the world. Which matters more?”

Mythra merely hums, pushing back a cuticle with her fingernail. “Ooh, that’s a fancy concept for you: ‘fate’. I wonder… Your Driver—Rex, or whatever his name was. Anyways, that boy seemed to think the girl’s life was pret-ty important... So important, he agreed to meet with me immediately. He even came alone like I asked. He’s pretty dumb, you know.”

He grits his teeth, almost growling in frustration. Dumbass!

In a flash of light, brilliant red hair replaces blonde. Pyra stands in Mythra’s place, locking eyes with Malos in a way that might’ve been a plea of some kind. “If you don’t come for them, we’ll kill Iona and Rex both. You might not care about the life of some random girl, but Rex is important to you, at least, isn’t he?”

Malos doesn’t bother to answer Mythra’s fake just yet. He’s too focused on the feeling of some new injury prickling at his ankle—nothing serious, but telling enough to be perfectly understood.

“Where do you want me to meet?”

The fake’s face falls into a gentle smile, almost a relieved one. “The place where you were awakened. Come alone.”

Chapter Text

Come alone, Mythra’s fake had told him. Like he was going to drag anyone else into this. The moment his eyes open to the ceiling of their room in the inn and turning over in bed reveals Rex’s bed to be empty, Malos sighs and pulls himself out of bed, silently grumbling to himself.

He's careful to be quiet when he grabs what he needs. His sword’s gone from where Rex had propped it against the bedside table the night before—Rex must have taken it with him just in case. What he didn’t take with him was his helmet, wherein Azurda sleeps, curled up, facing towards the inside. Rex must not have wanted to risk waking him.

Swears build in the back of Malos’s mind as he finishes pulling on his boots and quietly exits the room, shutting the door behind him as he disappears into the night.

~

Dromarch stirs awake to the sound of someone moving in the room. His eyes open, adjusting to the low lighting immediately—without raising his head, he watches Malos leave the room in a collected kind of hurry, as if he were trying to hide exactly how in a hurry he was.

Once the door closes most of the way behind Malos, Dromarch raises his head and silently pads out of the room after him, watching with a vigilant gaze.

He tails Malos carefully, watching him bypass the bathrooms and walk straight out of the inn. The moment he’s out, he sprints towards the steps outside. Now what could he be up to?

He pads back inside, following the pull in the ether to where his Lady sleeps. It would be best to make sure someone knows what’s going on, after all. Just to be safe.

~

Nia is pulled from her dreaming by gentle teeth digging into her hand—Dromarch’s biting her, not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to wake her. Instantly, reflexively, adrenaline rushes through her system.

After years on the run, she and Dromarch had established several ways to wake each other. A bite on the hand meant something was wrong, but to ensure that you awoke and moved about soundlessly. Someone nearby could hear.

Naturally, it was most often used when soldiers searching for her and Dromarch were nearby. It takes a moment for her to regain her ability to breathe as a result, fears of being on the run again prying at her brain.

She sits up and looks over at Dromarch, who releases her hand and gives her an expectant look. When he’s sure she’s awake, he slowly turns and walks out of the room, expecting her to follow.

She drags herself out of bed, following Dromarch out of the room and to the outside of the inn, where they can talk without waking anyone else. Once Dromarch and Nia are both certain no one else has awoken, Dromarch sits before her.

“My Lady, there’s something you should know,” he says, voice hushed.

Nia’s eyebrows raise and she crouches down to whisper. “What’s going on?”

“Malos left the inn several minutes ago. Rex, as well, is nowhere to be found. They didn’t leave together.” Dromarch’s eyes are serious, and Nia frowns. “I’m concerned that the situation may be more serious than a mere late night walk.”

“You don’t think something happened, do you?”

Dromarch hesitates. “If Rex went out somewhere, and is getting hurt, Malos may have gone after him.”

She curses under her breath. Of course. But what could Rex possibly be doing out this late that’s that reckless?

Labored breathing and the sound of bare feet hitting stone interrupts them, and Nia looks up to see Cole, barefooted, coming to a stop just before them, followed shortly by another man from the theatre troupe. They’re both wracked with concern, and Nia stands, watching their faces curiously.

“Cole? What’re you doing out so late? And without shoes?”

He sputters a hacking sort of cough, the kind that makes Nia itch to break out her healing Arts, but there’s no time for that right now. He rights himself and struggles to contain his coughs. “Have you seen Iona anywhere recently?”

Her eyes widen. “No, no I haven’t.”

~

Zenobia is shook awake by a frantic Nia. She blearily looks up at the Gormotti for several moments before the words she’s saying sink in.

“Zenobia, come on! We’ve got a major problem here.”

The panic-stricken look on Nia’s face is more than enough for Zenobia to understand. On Nia’s insistence, she exits the inn, where Dromarch, Azurda, Vandham, Roc, and, strangely enough, Cole are gathered. Not long after she and Nia rejoin them, Poppi exits the inn, not accompanied by Tora.

“Masterpon refused to wake. Says that if friends want Masterpon to wake before sunrise, need two week notice beforehand.”

Nia wrinkles her nose. “I guess that’s alright. We’ll deal with this without him, then.”

“So what’s the situation?” Zenobia asks.

“I went to check on Iona in her room because I get worried, and she wasn’t there,” Cole explains. “I was hoping she’d come to see one of you or something, but… no one’s seen her?”

Azurda comes to land on Vandham’s shoulder, looking around at their group with concern. “Not to derail, but has no one seen Rex and Malos?”

Silence falls over the group as everyone looks around. Sure enough, there’s no Rex, no Malos.

Dromarch clears his throat before speaking. “I witnessed Malos leave the inn not long before Cole arrived. Master Rex was already missing by that time.”

Zenobia hums. “You don’t think they decided to train together or something? Rex was talking about trying to get better at fighting.”

Azurda shakes his head. “I spend nearly every second in that boy’s helmet. I would have been there had the two planned to go training during the night. It’s more likely that Rex decided to do something reckless, and Malos followed.”

Zenobia glances at Nia just in time to see her visibly pale. “Dromarch, I just realized. D’ya think that…”

Her Blade looks up at her with concerned eyes. “It’s highly likely that Akhos remained in Uraya after our encounter with him. I can certainly see him planning some elaborate way to lure out Master Rex.”

“Would he have dragged Iona into the situation?” Roc asks, tilting their head.

Nia nods gravely. “We need to go after them. There’s not much of anything Akhos would stop at to get what he wants, and if he’s gotten after Iona…”

A wave of protectiveness washes over Zenobia as she considers what all this means. A child is in danger. Not only that, but her Driver is also in danger as a result. She does want to protect them both, regardless of the fact that if Rex dies, so does she. It’s more than that—there’s a certain goodness in Rex, one that she genuinely believes can save people.

So, she’ll do what she can to protect it.

Zenobia isn’t confident in her ability to do what she’s about to attempt, but still, Rex is her Driver no matter how good she is at this, right? So, she reasons, she’ll be able to figure out where he is.

Which is why she ignores what everyone’s saying for a moment, and focuses on the pull in the ether. Manipulating the wind around her has been child’s play for as long as she can remember (which, to be fair, isn’t long), but being able to read the ether, feel that pull towards her Driver...

It’s difficult and it’s faint, but she can almost tell what direction he’s in. She suspects it’s not too close, which is only making it more difficult. Her eyes snap open as she confirms the direction.

“I can sense where Rex is,” she offers quickly, and everyone nods in understanding. “If Torna is really involved, you guys should grab your weapons first.”

She reaches out her hand to the side, forming a new axe in her grasp effortlessly in favor of not going back into the inn to grab the other one.

“Don’t take your time. I, for one, am going to protect my Driver with whatever it takes, and I don’t plan on waiting long.”

As the others enter the inn and grab their weapons, Zenobia bounces lightly on her feet. She can already feel the adrenaline of the impending fight—this one, at least, is going to be fun.

~

“Ah, good,” a smarmy, familiar voice greets Malos as he finally, finally reaches the top of the far-too-long staircase, “you’re here. You came alone as directed, I trust?”

Akhos stands several rows up in the theatre, arms crossed with his pair of swords in each hand casually. On the ground, a decent distance from where he stands, lies what must be Iona.

Mythra is nowhere to be seen—instead, her fake stands in the very center of the theatre, wearing a sad smile as she stands perfectly still. Beside her, her Blade stands dutifully, leering at Malos.

Unaccounted for are Akhos’s Blade and Rex himself. Malos’s eyes dangerously scan the area. He knows he felt Rex’s presence here, so where the fuck is he?

“Where’s my Driver?” he hisses.

Akhos merely smirks, pointing up slowly. Malos follows his finger with his eyes until they land on a large dot in the sky above Olethro. Suspended maybe a hundred or so feet above the ground, being held tightly by a single one of Obrona’s arms, is Rex, unarmed and defenseless. Obrona’s free hand is clamped over Rex’s mouth, and he’s stock still, staring down at Malos with wide eyes.

“I wouldn’t try anything reckless, Aegis,” Akhos says. “If you do, Obrona just might drop him.”

He growls, but stands where he is, understanding the situation even better than Akhos or Mythra would. If Rex were to fall, they’d both be useless in a fight, and his secret would be out. There’s no need for anyone else to know about his healing situation.

The redheaded girl steps forward, her hands clasped politely in front of her. Sever follows immediately. “I’m sorry to have brought you out here so late. I’m sure that sleep must be rare for you.”

There’s a tense silence as she awaits his response. When it doesn’t come, she continues. “My name is Pyra. It’s nice to finally meet you, outside of Mythra’s memories. I am a part of Mythra, so you can also treat me as the Aegis.”

“I’m sure this place brings back memories, Malos,” she says. “Mythra says this is where you first woke up, after all, and we can’t lie to each other.”

Like he’s in any position to reminisce. He finally breaks the silence with a challenging tone. “What about it?”

“I was hoping we could have a talk with each other, about the future.” She pauses. “Aegis to Aegis. This just seemed like a good place to have that talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Your goal is to make sure Alrest has no future. We’re not compatible conversation partners.”

“You don’t truly want it, though, do you? To save Alrest.” She takes another step forward.

Malos stands fast where he is, scoffing. “Don’t talk like you know shit. You’re just a fake created by Mythra, anyways.”

Pyra’s eyes are sad as she watches his face. “You may be right, Malos, but that’s why I understand. Better than anybody else. You, Mythra, me… What have we ever really decided for ourselves? We just… existed, one day, and at that point, what we ‘wanted’ had already been decided.”

There’s even more tense silence as Malos refuses to dignify her with a response. Given no reply, she smiles gently and keeps talking.

“It’s okay. Like I said, I’m the same way. If you… if you helped us, then maybe you could at least break away from what everyone else chose for you. Don’t you think that the best choice is the one you make for yourself?”

Malos hates that he has to listen to her. He hates that she has a good point. He hates that Rex is still being suspended way too high above the ground to be safe, and that there’s nothing he can do about it without risking both of their lives. “How about you try following your own words and make your own choices for yourself, instead of dragging me into it?”

Her sad smile is steadfast. Malos wonders if that’s her default expression, if she always looks so sad. “I won’t pretend like you don’t have a point. But you’re the one who’s actually able to choose. In the end, I’m just—”

Pyra never finishes her sentence. A brilliant flash of light cuts her off right in the middle, and she disappears, only to be replaced with Mythra and her icy eyes. “That’s enough,” she states coldly.

“Is it?” Malos raises an eyebrow.

“Pyra talks too much. What would we do if someone noticed any of you three were missing and came looking for you before we were ready?”

Malos snorts. “I guess I can live with you cutting to the chase already. But let me guess. You want me to help you restore your damaged core crystal so you can access Elysium yourself.”

“How perceptive of you. You’re right, I need help restoring my core. More specifically, I need the data in your core crystal to build on.”

“You realize I have no intention of ever helping you, right?”

She smirks. “Not even at the expense of your Driver’s life?”

“What?” Malos’s eyes dart to the boy, who’s trying his damnedest not to look like he’s at least a little terrified of the situation.

“You heard me. Did you think we had him up there just for show?”

“Did you think that would make me help you?” he asks flatly.

Mythra only laughs. “There’s not a point in trying to hide anything now. If you didn’t care about that boy, you wouldn’t have bothered to show up when we told you we’d taken him. Either you have an ulterior motive for keeping him alive, or you care, and frankly, I don’t care if there’s a difference. The only thing that matters is that you’re going to help us, or he’s going to die.”

Malos smirks. “You can’t kill him.”

“Oh?” She quirks an eyebrow at him. “And why is that?”

Malos hesitates. Telling them his weakness, their weakness is stupid, and he really doesn’t want to give away this secret, but… “Because if he—”

He never finishes his sentence. Before he can say another word, a rush of wind blusters past him and straight for Iona’s unconscious form. It takes Malos a moment to register that it’s Zenobia who’s suddenly appeared, and he almost panics in that moment.

Panicking, though, wouldn’t suit him.

Mythra’s amusement and interest twists into a glare. “I thought I told you to come alone,” she snarls. “Obrona!”

Malos bolts forward as he sees Obrona let go of his Driver with an exaggerated giggle. Rex crashes towards the earth at painful speeds, and for the first time in five hundred years, Malos feels real fear course through his body.

Rex is falling, and falling, and falling, and…

Malos can’t make it in time. Not on his own. Luckily for everyone important, Zenobia is skilled with her control of the wind, and a gale of wind comes and blows Rex off course, just far enough towards Malos that he barely manages to catch him.

Mythra stumbles nearby. Malos takes this chance to carry Rex a good distance away, focusing his ether to form a new sword all the while. He comes to a stop at the entrance to the ruins, where Nia, Dromarch, Vandham, Roc, and Poppi are standing.

He sets Rex on his feet carefully. Zenobia blazes past, carrying Iona with her.

Zenobia passes the girl off for Nia to look over and immediately grasps her axe, glaring daggers at her adversaries. Meanwhile, Rex steadies himself, taking Malos’s new sword in hand. Malos chooses not to bother mentioning his injuries for the time being, letting the boy slip into a fighting stance and prepare for combat.

They can discuss everything later, but for now, Malos focuses on the fight at hand.

Father knows he’ll need all the focus he can get.

~

Rex readies his sword with determination, steadying himself carefully. His back aches, his ankle yells, his shoulder protests, but he doesn’t have the time to worry about the pain he’s in right now. Before him stands Mythra, who looks just a tad pissed off that he isn’t currently suspended an uncomfortable distance from the ground by a very mischievous Blade.

A lot happens at once. Zenobia, obviously, goes straight for Mythra now that she’s done her job of getting him and Iona to safer positions. There’s an intent in her face he hasn’t seen before—for a moment, he’s scared, but he tightens his grip on the sword as his affinity link with Malos comes to life.

It doesn’t take long at all for everyone to separate into individual squads. Nia, after checking on Iona, joins Poppi in distracting Akhos and Obrona, while he, Vandham, and Zenobia focus on Mythra and Sever.

“God, you are all so annoying,” Mythra growls as she lunges toward Rex, sword at the ready.

She’s strong, but he’s better in combat than he was before, and blocks the hit with Malos’s sword. He stumbles back a few feet, and grits his teeth at the protest his ankle makes. Malos notices immediately, despite Rex’s attempts to conceal it, and immediately turns his attention to bark over his shoulder.

“Nia! If you’re not busy, we could use some support!”

“Already?” she calls back. “Fine, give me a minute!”

“I’m probably fine, you know,” Rex says.

Malos rolls his eyes. “Switch with me. I saw the way you just flinched. Give Nia a chance to work her Arts on you and then you can get back to it.”

“I can handle it!” Rex insists, narrowly dodging a swipe from Mythra.

“No, you can’t, and trying to is going to get you killed. Switch.”

It’s obvious Malos isn’t going to budge, so Rex sighs and tosses the weapon to him. The moment he switches places with Malos, he feels the soothing sensation of water wash over him, the pain in his likely swollen ankle ebbing away as if the tides themselves carried it away.

“Thanks, Nia!” he calls to her as the soothing cold washes over him. Before anything can be completely healed, he feels his chest constrict lightly, followed by the power connecting him to Malos suddenly disappearing, as though it had never existed.

Fearing the worst, he looks back, but Malos is fine—the only difference is that the air around them is now dispersed with glowing red particles, which seem to be emanating from Akhos’s Blade, who now floats in the air above the battlefield menacingly.

“I’ll admit, you bit-players aren’t completely unskilled, and coming at us with numbers is smart,” Akhos says, carelessly flinging Poppi across the theatre like it’s nothing. She recovers with the help of the jets in her feet, thankfully avoiding any serious damage. “But, in case you forgot our resident traitor’s intel, fighting alongside your Blades isn’t going to get you very far.”

In the moment Rex’s attention is diverted, Akhos creates an opening, and Sever doesn’t hesitate to capitalize on that opening. Rex turns his head to see two blades of wind heading straight toward him, and before he can work out a way to get out of the way without straining his shoulder or his ankle too horribly, Zenobia’s there, blocking the blows with a shield of ether.

“Watch your back, alright, Rex?” she says over her shoulder, standing her ground effortlessly.

Before Rex can reply, she’s off again, attacking Sever directly. Then, Vandham is actually hit by Mythra, and it’s going south for Nia, too, and—

Rex grits his teeth. “Malos! Switch with me and cover!”

Malos laughs, passing the sword back and immediately throwing up a shield. “There’s that backbone.”

Rex grabs the sword effortlessly, bolting over just in time to provide Nia support. He comes to a stop just beside Dromarch, who now stands protectively between her and Akhos. “Nia, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, pushing herself to a standing position. “Sorry, it’s just hard to breathe with Obrona’s ether stuff going on.”

Poppi rejoins the battle, looking just a touch worse for the wear, and another glance around the battlefield makes Rex think that they’re very much losing. Zenobia’s trying, and she’s really holding her own, the same as Vandham, but every Blade in the area except Poppi seems… sluggish. Poppi, meanwhile, is clearly used to performing a support role, rather than acting as the main fighter, and it shows in her reaction times.

He can’t focus on how disadvantaged their group seems to be, though. Not when Akhos is swinging his sword dangerously close to his face—

“Eyes on the enemy, kid!” Malos shouts.

Rex nods. “I know already! I’m just tryin’ to make sure everyone’s—” He pauses to counter another attack with a swing of his sword, gritting his teeth.

Akhos presses forward with a smarmy grin, forcing Rex to steady himself. No matter how many times he swings his sword, it’s almost impossible for a hit to connect, and the few times it does, it’s hardly a hit at all—like Akhos is impossible to harm.

For a moment, Rex is almost demoralized, but he reminds himself, steadily, that he doesn’t have a choice but to fight his hardest. “Say, Malos,” Rex says, keeping his eyes on Akhos as the man in question continues with a flurry of vicious attacks.

“What’s up?” Malos replies, standing beside Rex and grabbing his sword just long enough to funnel extra ether directly into the sword.

“Got any ideas for how to turn all this around?”

Malos snorts. “Thought you’d never ask. The biggest problem is that Blade—if we can take her out, I think we can at least force a retreat.”

“Talking about your plans in front of the enemy?” Akhos taunts. “How disappointing. I took you two to be smarter than that. Well, at least as far as the Aegis goes.”

Rex ignores him, thinking hard about the situation at hand. “So we just need to stop Obrona’s ether manipulation, right?” But how would they even do that? Will she get too tired to keep it up? What if they attacked Obrona directly, would that throw her off enough that they’d be able to keep up affinity links again?

It’s worth a shot.

“Malos, can you take over for a bit?” Rex asks. Malos nods and switches places effortlessly—they’re getting better at switching roles in battle now, moving more in sync.

In the time it takes them to switch, Obrona’s given one of Akhos’s swords to fight with, and she giggles menacingly as she begins to become her own fountain of problems. Malos goes in for an aggressive assault, while Rex pays close attention both to his surroundings and to how the rest of the battle’s unfolding.

It… doesn’t look good, honestly. They’ll have to turn everything around fast, knock Obrona around a bit so she lifts that ether manipulation so that Nia can heal Vandham, who’s definitely in bad shape—

“Malos, d’you think you can charge your sword up with ether while you’ve got it in hand?”

Malos grunts, locking blades with Akhos.

“My, my,” Akhos says. “You’re rather powerful. But why is it you’re not showing your true power? Surely the Aegis would have been able to finish me off by now. Unless, you’re holding back?”

Malos usually has the same scowl on his face, be it during battle, sleeping, or even cooking, but now, it’s charged with a level of anger and annoyance Rex hasn’t seen before. He doesn’t reply to Akhos, merely keeps his focus on the battle and on charging up his sword as best he can.

“You shouldn’t hold yourself back, you know. Having a Driver, especially such a young one, is really limiting what you can do. Don’t you feel it? How he could never truly measure up to Addam, even when you still had to hold yourself back for him?”

If Malos gives a response, Rex doesn’t hear it—he’s too busy shuffling back to avoid Obrona’s attempts to attack him, too focused on not getting killed—

Then Malos’s sword is forced into his hands, and Rex is so determined to stop Obrona, so desperate to save everyone—

He’s not fully cognizant of what exactly happens, not other than the fact that his piece of Malos’s core crystal and Malos’s half of his core crystal are glowing in tandem, and so is the core crystal in the sword, and that he doesn’t need to kill Obrona, just stop her from acting, just stop her from using that damn ether—

And as his sword locks with hers in a desperate attempt to block her own attempt on his life, it lifts. Every affinity link in the immediate area blazes to life, while the golden bond between Akhos and Obrona flickers away. Soon, too, does the blue one between Mythra and Sever, and Mythra and Akhos are both loudly cursing at the realization of exactly what Rex has done sinks in. The restricted feeling of his chest, too, lifts lightly.

Rex can’t help the smile that rises to his face as he forces Obrona back. Looks like it’s time to turn the tides.

~

Nia breathes in purposefully as Rex unleashes an Art she’s never seen before. It’s such a relief, to be able to breathe again—she’d been on the receiving end of Obrona’s workings exactly once before, and it’s no less uncomfortable now. Of course she’s relieved—what reasonable Blade wouldn’t be?

“Rex? What the ‘ell did you do?” Nia asks, keeping light on her feet as she immediately showers him in a healing Art like she’d been wanting to do for ages now.

Rex is preoccupied, pushing forward in the fight now that his affinity link to Malos is back in action, but he still takes the time to reply. “I don’t know! Was that an Art?”

Obrona looks like she’s physically struggling now as the counterattack begins, and Akhos, at least, doesn’t look much better. With Obrona completely shackled, he’s in their situation, now, although he seems determined to push on through.

“Yeah, that was a new Art, all right,” Malos grunts, keeping his primary focus on acting as a Blade.

Mythra, however, is less amused at this turn of events. “Sever! Take care of it before I do!” she barks, her voice almost a growl.

Sever nods, chuckling, and Nia’s heart almost stops in fear as Sever lunges for Rex, nearly digs those claws into his throat, he’s going to kill Malos and Rex both—

She squeezes her eyes shut. She doesn’t want to watch them die, even as she forces through another healing Art to save them.

She’s too far away to do something worthwhile…

…but when she opens her eyes, she realizes Malos wasn’t.

Rex is stood, wide-eyed, as Malos stands firmly behind Sever, towering over the both of them. Malos’s hand is on Sever’s back, a fire burning in his eyes the likes of which Nia’s only seen twice before, and both from Aegises.

Most notably, though, is Sever’s body struggling to stay together, flickering for a moment or two before it disappears in a burst of glowing ether. Moments later, the silence across the ruins is broken by the dull clink! as Sever’s half-eaten core crystal falls to the stone below.

Malos growls in a way that’s almost feral, a way that would strike fear into Nia’s heart if she didn’t know him, didn’t know the situation. “Like hell am I letting you take another Driver from me,” he growls, and the sudden protectiveness takes even Nia aback.

“…w-well, this is an unexpected development,” Akhos says, adjusting his glasses, “but every single one of you bit-players has forgotten one very important thing.”

“I am the one who gets to write the script.”

A single blink is all it takes for Akhos to be right in front of Nia, who unfortunately is the closest target. She lets out a startled noise and wrenches her body away, narrowly managing to block what would have been a slashed open chest, perhaps a broken (or worse, exposed) core crystal, with her shoulder.

She successfully avoids having her chest opened up by his swords, but at the cost of still more pain—her upper arm is slashed completely open across its width, and she doesn’t even need to look to know that the new injury is far from shallow. She can feel the pain just fine, thank you.

“Grah…” Mythra’s eyes are lit up with even more rage as she finally processes the loss of Sever, the disintegration of the sword she carries into the ether. “Akhos! We’re leaving!”

Zenobia continues fighting. “Like hell you are! You think we’d let you after everything you’ve done today?”

“I said,” Mythra continues, stomping one heeled foot as a bright light emanates from the hairpiece she wears, dancing around the battlefield almost teasingly.

Malos suddenly stiffens. “Get back!” he barks, and Zenobia backs up on his words immediately.

Mythra’s scowl suddenly quirks up into a dangerous smirk, and Nia feels an acute fear shoot through her as Mythra finally finishes her sentence.

“We’re leaving.”

Before anyone can move, before anything else can happen, anything at all, Vandham is engulfed in a hateful light. It’s only for a moment, only long enough that it blinds Nia and anyone standing nearby temporarily. When the light clears, Vandham stands in its wake.

Rex makes a horrified noise, and Nia can only watch as everyone else reacts in turn.

“Vandham!” Zenobia says, her voice the closest to panicked Nia’s ever heard. “Hey, are you alright? What did she do?” She speaks quickly, not quite believing the words as they tumble from her mouth.

“Nia,” Rex says quietly as Vandham stutters on his feet. “Help him. Please.”

But Nia is rooted to the spot. Her eyes are trained on the sickening smile on Vandham’s face, the trail of blood that’s slowly seeping from the corner of his mouth, as if it, too, isn’t quite sure why it’s there.

Vandham coughs, just once. Just enough to make Nia’s heart ache. “Kid. It’s okay.”

Rex rushes forward to him, supports his standing form with both hands as understanding washes over him. “It’s okay, Vandham. Nia’s going to save you, and no one’s going to die today. You’ll come back to the inn with us after this. Right, Nia?”

Hands fly to where her core crystal hides, fists clenching tightly at the fabric there as she quickly, subtly shakes her head.

‘We found the cannibal! Whoever gets to her first gets free drinks on me! Bonus round if you kill ’er!’ rings through her head as a few stray tears spring to her eyes. Her heartbeat quickens. She can save him.

“Y-you can heal him, right?” Rex pleads, voice cracking. “Right?”

Isn’t there anything we can do for her? Stifling men in a stifling room who won’t give her a sideways glance. Flowers everywhere. The distinct feeling of a death too soon.

She wills herself to move. She lifts one foot… and steps back, her autonomy gone.

She can save him.

Vandham slumps a bit. “Rex, it’s all right. Big guy like me’s gotta go out with honor, right?”

“Nia! Please!” Rex is openly crying now, desperately attempting to hold up Vandham’s weight.

“Rex…” Zenobia watches, her eyes wide, tears of her own forming.

Cheers to the man who captured the Flesh Eater! The clinking of mugs. Maybe they’ll make a big show out of her execution. Architect, I can’t wait to see that.

Nia sways on her feet. She can’t tell if she’s holding her breath or hyperventilating, not when thousands of nonexistent eyes are on her, crawling across her skin.

She can save him.

She feels her own power thrumming beneath her fists, aching to be used, jumping at such a prime opportunity. Even her own abilities are begging her to do this.

“Everyone’s got their own war to fight, kid. Make sure you fight the one that’s important to you.” Vandham speaks his last words

She can save him.

He’s still breathing. Roc is still with them, too, although they’re struggling to stay together, struggling to remain alive. Their core crystal pulses with intense amounts of light that retreat just as fast as they come.

“…please… I know you can save him…”

It’s possible. She’s certain her abilities could bring him back with no issues or even scarring. A few minutes, maybe something to protect the eyes, and it’d be like the whole thing never happened.

She could save him. Easily.

But as Nia reminds herself how easy it would be, how simple to show herself, to save Vandham’s life, she’s reminded of the years spent alone. The cold nights at Dromarch’s side. The hunger, the constant fear, the way she couldn’t trust anyone except her own Blade, even found herself mistrusting him sometimes, too.

She can’t go back to being alone.

“I’m sorry, Rex,” she manages, her voice cracking.

Rex lets out a choked sob. “Please!”

The dull sound of Roc’s core crystal clinking to the ground adds somehow more somberness to the air, more horror.

Nia shakes her head. Her fists shake as they twist in the chest of her jumpsuit, and her legs feel weak, but she stays standing as Rex finally lowers Vandham’s body to the ground. He’s still babbling desperate pleas to save him, and while it’d be so easy…

“There’s nothing I can do for him,” Nia says evenly, desperately withholding tears. Dromarch presses close to her side, supporting her, and she finally sinks to the ground against him, eyes wide and horror-stricken.

She can’t save Vandham.

She can’t save anyone, anyone at all.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, crumpling into Dromarch’s side. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Chapter Text

Zenobia doesn’t pay attention to Dromarch as he recites Vandham’s final rites. It takes all her focus just to sit still, to pay respect properly to Vandham’s memory. She holds Roc’s core crystal gently in both hands, keeping her eyes on its dull color. She never got to fight one-on-one with them, which, she thinks, is probably the thing she regrets most.

In a way, she never truly got to understand them.

Her eyes flick upwards to land on her Driver. Rex stands, staring almost vacantly at Vandham’s grave as Iona gently places a bouquet of lilies on the ground before it. Even his attempts to comfort Iona, the hand on her shoulder, lack the sort of life she’s used to seeing from him. Maybe it’s because she’s his Blade, but it seems obvious that a Rex in mourning isn’t Rex at all.

And then there’s the matter of Malos.

He’s pissed. She knows he’s pissed. She might think she’s stupid and bad at people, but Malos is utterly, incontrovertibly, pissed off at Rex, and the reason is plain as death.

Rex was reckless. He ran out on his own, without anyone’s help or knowledge, to save Iona. He could have died trying to do things himself. She understands why, on a basic level, but she also knows that Malos… well, he’s less understanding than she is.

Still, Malos’s silence to this point is admirable. Almost as admirable as Zenobia’s resistance to the temptation of fidgeting that she’s been keeping up so well for this entire funeral. It isn’t that she isn’t sad, no, but standing in one place for so long is almost painful. Of course she has to psychoanalyze everyone around her to keep her mind occupied.

When everything’s dissipated and the funeral has officially ended, Zenobia keeps it together long enough to stay and listen as Yew and Zuo talk to Rex.

“When you’re done here in Fonsa Myma, we’ve got stuff to talk to you about in Garfont. Make sure you come talk to us before you leave Uraya,” Yew says.

“Sure, I guess,” Rex says, not sounding too excited at the prospect. Nia mills about nearby, almost robotically going about the last of her checks on everyone’s health in the aftermath of the preceding morning. This must be the fifth time today she’s checked up on everyone’s injuries, like she’s forgotten, or perhaps she’s trying to forget. She’s completely wordless as she goes over Tora, and as Rex finishes talking with Yew and Zuo, Zenobia watches Nia work.

She gets it. Really, she does. Zenobia wishes there was more she could have done, too, but… It’s too late for all that. All they can do now is pick up the pieces.

“Malos, can I talk to you for a second?” Zenobia asks, approaching him brazenly.

“What?” His tone is dangerous, as if he’s really expecting her to suggest they fight right now. Well, he’s half-right.

“Come on, let’s step away from everyone else for a bit. It’s nothing bad, I just wanted to make a suggestion.” She gives him a tamed smile, an attempt to show that she’s really not up to anything.

Reluctantly, he follows her a good few feet from the others, eyes cold as he watches her. “I’m really not in the mood for your shit today,” he warns.

“I know!” She raises both hands innocently. “I know. It’s not… this isn’t my usual stuff. I just… you’re pissed off at Rex, yeah?”

He doesn’t answer, but his silence is an answer in itself, surely the only answer she needs.

“I thought so. Listen, I know you probably want to yell at him for going off on his own and almost dying and all that. I do too, a bit. But… I really think it would be better for everyone if you just kinda… sparred it out. You’re well-versed in battle, right? Know how to listen? Just… talk to him like that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You think that a sparring session is going to fix the fact that he nearly got the three of us killed, or bring back the lives we lost?”

“No, it won’t. But the two of you are never going to be on the same wavelength if you don’t both connect somehow, and honestly? I’m tired of trying to bridge the gap between you two. Just… I know you probably don’t think it’s my place to butt my head into. Well, you’d be wrong, because like it or not, I have to put up with the two of you just as much as you have to put up with me,” Zenobia continues. “Just, give it a shot, okay? He’ll some more experience fighting, and you might be able to actually understand him a bit. I’m not interfering past this. Give it some thought. I’ll be sorting through everything back here.”

Malos stalks back to the group, and to her shock, Zenobia watches him walk right up to Rex and grab his shoulder, speaking too quietly to be heard from her distance. Rex says something to Nia, who nods silently.

Zenobia’s heart swells with pride at the thought that she may have actually done something right, but her work isn’t done yet. She’ll have to go ahead and help out Nia once she gets the chance.

~

Malos watches the last of the others leave Olethro Ruins, reaching for his sword. This was stupid. There’s no way Zenobia’s suggestion could possibly work to actually fix anything. The kid was a dumbass, and now a man and his Blade are dead.

He was supposed to be done with letting people die.

But…

He’s long since learned how to move forward in the face of tragedy.

“Come on, kid. Let’s do this.”

Rex looks at him without really seeing for a moment. Father, his eyes almost look like he’s the one who died. “Right. Is there a reason we’re doing this?”

“Normalcy,” Malos answers, knowing it’s a lie. “I just want to make sure you have the basics.”

If Rex realizes he’s full of shit, he doesn’t say anything, or give any notification that he does. Instead, he halfheartedly nods, not offering any further answer.

“Heads up.”

Rex catches the sword almost without thinking. Malos nods approvingly.

“Hand me Zenobia’s axe. I’ll need a weapon if we’re going to fight, and I’d rather you use my sword.”

“Why?”

Father, he’s really going to ask every question to avoid actually fighting, huh. “You used an Art during that fight I haven’t seen, and a damn useful one. I want you to be able to use it on purpose this time.”

“I don’t know if I can—”

Malos holds up a hand, cutting him off. “It’s not a matter of whether you ‘can’. You want to get better, right?” He smartly chooses not to mention the things that could’ve been prevented. He’s sure Rex already knows he could have been better, could have been smarter.

Honestly, he wouldn’t be so calm if he hadn’t had the rest of the night to decompress and utterly beat the shit out of a pile of rocks or two outside Fonsa Myma. With the obliteration of several things that couldn’t fight back, he felt a lot better. Besides, it’s pissing him off more to see Rex being so pitiful.

Rex finally nods, passing the axe over to him. “Yeah, I guess.”

They quickly fall into a rhythm—attack, parry, block, counter. Attack, parry, block, Art. Attack, parry…

Malos doesn’t need to be on the receiving end of Rex’s attacks to know that he’s putting the bare minimum of effort behind each one, and not a bit more. Still, it’s worth a shot. He reacts, but mostly, he tries to listen.

Attack, parry, block, Art. Memories nag at his brain as he listens for what Rex’s attacks are really saying. Sparring with Addam, fighting with Lora. Finally trying to bridge that damned gap with that damned Jin. Never getting to know anyone.

Attack, parry, block, counter, and the counter is reigned in in a way that doesn’t feel like someone pulling their punches. The kind of withdrawn half-assed attack that’s uncertain, maybe even afraid.

Attack, parry, block, Art, and he remembers the bodies after the supposed final fight against Mythra. People he knew. People he’d never met. People he never will.

Attack, parry, and he stops, narrowly sidestepping Rex’s downward swing and pinning the sword to the ground with his foot.

“I think… we need to have a talk,” Malos says, and Rex nods in understanding.

They end up sitting down in one of the many rows of the amphitheater, where Malos heaves a sigh to fill the air. He’d been intending to try that “relying” thing Nia was so keen on, but…

“You’re too focused on your emotions to even spar properly,” he says instead.

He’s not expecting Rex’s face to twist with anger, maybe disgust, but that’s what happens. “Too focused on my—do you even realize what happened yesterday? Vandham died, and I couldn’t save him! I couldn’t do anythin’! D’you have any idea how that feels?” By the time he’s given any sort of pause, he’s standing beside Malos, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

Zenobia probably meant for this sparring session to end in some pleasant heart-to-heart where they lean on each other and everything’s fixed. Unfortunately, Malos isn’t the right person for that.

“Yeah, I do. In case you forgot, I’ve had the lives of two continents’ worth of people weighing on my conscience for the past 500 years, not including Vandham, not including the people I actually cared about.” Familiar faces flash in Malos’s head as he speaks. Milton. Hugo. At least he didn’t have to feel guilty about Brighid and Aegaeon. Blades don’t have to worry about their lives really ending.

Rex flinches back as if he’s touched a hot stove. “Sorry. You’re not… who I’m mad at. It just… pisses me off. All of it.” Each new word sounds harder for Rex to say than the last, as if he’s literally dragging the words out to say anything at all. It’s a stark contrast to how easy it was for him to yell at Malos, but the contrast is enough that Malos maybe understands just a bit better now.

“Then who are you mad at? Because I’d appreciate if you pitched a fit at them instead of me.”

Rex stares off to the side, where Vandham’s headstone stands. “Myself, mostly. Vandham wouldn’t’ve been there to die if not for me.”

“Mythra just killed him for the hell of it, you know. Probably would have done it regardless of whether you were there or not. Just because you were there doesn’t make it your responsibility.”

Rex’s jaw clenches as anger bubbles back to the surface, darkening his face. “Doesn’t matter. I couldn’t do anythin’. They came after Iona, and I couldn’t do anything about that. Have you seen that cut on her face? I came here to save her, to stop Mythra, and I just… failed.”

“Well,” Malos says, leaning back on his elbows. “That answers one question I had.”

“Should I even ask what that question was?”

The corners of his mouth quirk just slightly. “Something along the lines of ‘what the hell were you thinking’.”

Rex’s eyebrows soften just a bit at that. “Right. Figured you’d be mad when you found out.”

“I’d planned on lecturing you, but I think you already know what I’d say.” Words come easier now, smoother. Everything in the right order, the right tone. They hit their mark.

“Somethin’ about how I’m a reckless idiot who should’ve told someone instead of goin’ after Mythra and them myself.”

Malos can’t help but snort. “I’d actually use the term ‘dumbass’.”

“Right. A reckless dumbass.” Rex nods, accepting the chastisement without an inkling of a fight.

“I get feeling like it has to be your fault.” Malos’s eyes drift to watching the Cloud Sea as he speaks. “It’s easy to blame yourself in hindsight, when you can see your every mistake. But that’s not going to do shit. Not for you, not for anyone. You’ll just feel really shitty for a long time, and make even more mistakes because of it.”

Rex is silent for a long while. “Well, what else am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to move forward when I know I was wrong?”

He shrugs in reply. “I’m not gonna act like moving on is easy, especially not so fast. Father knows it took the better part of 500 years for me to deal with my shit. But wallowing in regret and self-hatred won’t help. Redirect your hatred towards the one that killed him, maybe. Use that energy to get stronger so we can stop her from killing anyone else.”

Rex’s salvager suit shuffles quietly as he sits back down. “I know already. That hating myself won’t bring Vandham back. But I can’t help it, you know? It’s all I can think about. What I could’ve done better. How I could have been better.”

Malos sighs yet again. “Come on. We’re going to try sparring again. This time, try putting some of that energy into the sword.” He stands, jumping down the seats until he reaches ground level.

Rex stands up, reaching for his sword with a nod. “No need for me to hold back, right?”

“Come at me with your full strength, kid. I can take it.”

“Alright then,” he says, gripping the sword in both hands, “if you say so.”

A smile creeps its way on to Malos’s face as he raises the axe to block Rex’s pre-emptive strike. They fall into a rhythm, easier this time, more natural, until the only sounds that can be heard in the ruins is the clashing of sword and axe, the sounds of two people learning how to move forward.

~

Bark picks at Nia’s jumpsuit as she expertly scales the tree’s trunk, hands and feet finding holds without a moment’s thought. When she’s sufficiently high, she nestles on top of a sturdy branch, leaning her back against the trunk to watch the port of Fonsa Myma from afar. Dromarch joins her at the base of the tree.

“You’ve been pretty quiet,” Nia says, just loud enough to be heard. Her voice is dry, having gone mostly unused since… since Vandham.

Dromarch settles his head on his paws. “I had the sense that you would prefer silent company, my lady.”

She nods, eyes focusing dully on the shimmering pink leaves, the way the light scatters between them. “Thank you for that.”

There’s a long pause where emotions rage in Nia’s heart like a thunderstorm, cacophonous and unfettered. She emits a shaky sigh after what feels like forever.

“Dromarch?” she calls down to him, voice shaking. “D’you think… that I made the right choice?”

Dromarch doesn’t answer for the longest time. Anxiety pounds at Nia’s brain, constricts her breath as she waits for any sort of support.

“…I believe that my lady will make the best choices for herself,” he says, and she feels herself shatter just a bit more.

For herself.

She should’ve known he’d say something like that.

Of course he would. Of course.

~

When Zenobia finds them, Nia has her knees pulled to her chest, balanced precariously on a tree branch with her entire head hidden in her hood. Every so often, her shoulders shudder with sobs. Dromarch is curled at the base of the tree, frowning with his head on his paws below her, eyes cast at the Gormotti with worry.

“Woah, are you okay?” Zenobia asks, launching herself upward with a burst of ether until she’s at Nia’s height. “The air is really tense here…”

“Not in the mood, Zenobia,” Nia says after a moment, voice choked with tears.

Zenobia frowns. “Hey. I’m… really not good at this stuff.”

Nia sniffles. “Yeah, well, no one asked you to be.”

Zenobia calmly reminds herself to be patient. “You… I don’t really get why you’re affected the worst out of everyone, but…”

No matter how much she wants it, the words won’t come the right way. She lets out an aggravated groan. “Okay, you know what? Come down here, we’re going to fight.”

“Oh, bugger off. I don’t want to fight right now.” Even so, Nia lifts her head, just enough so that her eyes are shown through the gap between her knees and her hood. “Don’t have to be a genius to make that connection.” Her eyes reflect the light that shines through dangerously, but Zenobia persists.

She grins wickedly. “Come on. I’m no good at words, but I know a little thing that’ll help you work through those emotions!”

“Why are you so serious about this? Can’t I just hate myself in peace!?” Nia rips her head away from her knees, glaring through teary eyes. Her sudden movement shifts her balance, and Nia yelps as she loses it entirely, crashing toward the ground for only a moment.

“Nope,” Zenobia sings, popping the ‘p’ and gently setting Nia on the ground properly. “And I’m gonna keep pissing you off until you fight me!”

Nia literally hisses, raising both hands like claws, and Zenobia recoils for just a moment before grinning and raising her fists.

“Hand-to-hand, huh? Perfect, Malos is borrowing my axe right now, anyways!”

With a sigh, Nia angrily removes her gloves. “I don’t fight fair in hand-to-hand, y’know, and honest, I’m too pissed to care.”

“That’s fine! I’ll regenerate pretty fast, and you’re a great healer!” Her grin broadens. “If you’re ready, I’m ready!”

Nia lunges forward, swinging her arm in a tight line that knows where it’s headed. Zenobia reads it, knows where Nia’s going, but instead of dodging, she stays there, letting sharp claws connect with her shoulder and slash the skin there, leaving several long blue lines where the ether beneath bubbles to the surface like blood.

Nia stays frozen to the spot where her claws connected, looking up at Zenobia with wide eyes. “You could’ve dodged that.”

She nods. “I could have, easily. But I’m not goading you into a fight to dodge everything and piss you off. This isn’t a fight for fun, Nia.”

“Then what’re you so insistent for?” There’s emotions in Nia’s eyes—so many, and none of them particularly good.

Zenobia smiles sadly. “You needed an outlet, and I just wanted to understand you. You can learn a lot from a good fight, after all.”

“Okay, no, I can’t do this. I’ve done enough, I’m not using you as a punching bag.” Nia steps back, pulling her hand away. “…or a scratching post.”

“You wanna know what I felt from that?” Zenobia says.

Nia doesn’t respond, reaching up to wipe away stray tears from her eyes.

“Well, first of all, you’re surprisingly fast for a healer. Strong, too. If I were human, I might be bruised and bleeding right now from that.” She grins, rubbing her shoulder where Nia’s hand connected. “Second of all, it feels to me like you’ve got a lot more pent up than just what happened. I knew you were hiding some stuff, but frankly, I’m worried for you. That wasn’t a clawing of grief.”

She’s half talking out her ass, but Nia doesn’t need to know that. She buys it hook, line, and sinker.

“I know… you said, that I don’t have to keep to myself, that I can trust you and the others, but…” Nia sighs, awkwardly pulling her gloves back on. “It’s not… as easy as that. I could have… every time I try, I can’t move at all, or do anything. So… I can’t. Rely on you. Not yet.” Nia refuses to meet her eyes, instead staring at the tips of her fingers accusingly.

“Hey, no worries. If you really don’t feel comfortable telling me whatever it is that’s breaking you up so, I don’t blame you. But you do need to talk to someone about it. It doesn’t have to be me.”

Nia nods, casting her focus to the grass. Anything but Zenobia. “Right.”

Zenobia throws both arms behind her head, stretching casually. “Well, I had one more observation from that punch you threw.”

“Yeah?”

She hums. “How to put it… I didn’t realize it before, but you’re completely holding yourself back. I don’t know if you’re afraid of yourself, or what, but for someone who was so pissed off she got antagonized into attacking me, it still felt like you were restraining yourself. Is that instinctual, or are you afraid of your own self?

Nia very visibly flinches, and Dromarch, too, lifts his head. He hasn’t moved from his spot. “It’s… I… can you keep a secret?”

“Huh? Yeah, what’s up?”

Nia exhales sharply, any resolve present in her having disappeared just as fast as it came. “No, never mind. Some other time, maybe.”

“…if you’re sure…” Zenobia frowns. “Oh, but I actually did come to get you for something. Cole wants to talk to everyone. Are you two… good to come back with me?”

Nia nods quietly, and Dromarch silently rises. Zenobia turns back to the port. “Okay, well, I’m going to go on ahead. I have to go get Rex and Malos, too. Meet at the theatre, okay?”

Before Zenobia can leave, Nia jolts forward. “Zenobia! Um… thank you.”

Zenobia pauses, smiling softly. “Yeah, Nia. Anytime.”

~

Nia approaches the plaza with distrustful eyes. Sure, it's probably nothing at all, and surely, Cole just wants to talk to them about something to do with Vandham, but she can't help but feel distrustful.

Still, she arrives, and it's not long before the others do, too.

"You're lookin' a bit better," she whispers to Rex as he joins the group alongside Malos and Zenobia. Well, he looks sweaty and worn out, but she supposes Zenobia probably roped the two into more of her insistent fighting therapy or something.

Maybe it did him some good, though. He'd been looking nothing short of tortured since... everything, something Nia both can and can't understand.

It wasn't Rex's fault. It was hers.

And she'll never forgive herself for being too caught up in her own fear to save him.

Rex doesn't reply to her, save for a forced smile that doesn't reach his eyes and a nod. Malos, too, seems to be sweaty and looking ever so slightly better, although to be fair, he never really looks like he's feeling anything but annoyed. Maybe the lines around his eyes are just the slightest bit softer now.

Cole clears his throat, which results in his own coughs. "I have something for you kids. Some information, maybe."

"What kind of information?" Malos asks, crossing his arms as is the usual for him.

Cole smiles—even his smile isn't reaching his eyes right now. He just looks tired.

"Well, you may not expect to hear this from me, but I happen to know someone who scaled the World Tree, once. Did it all by himself, too. Now, I don't know what he did about that artifice Malos mentioned, or if he had to deal with the artifice at all, but he'll know something."

Nia places a hand on her hip. "Some guy you know climbed the World Tree once? How long ago?"

Cole doesn't meet her eyes. "Oh, about five hundred years or so."

The ripple of shock that goes through the group is palpable. "Wait, five hundred years?" Rex says, the first words Nia's heard from him in a while that haven't been choked with tears. "Shouldn't he have... I don't know, died of old age by now?"

Cole smiles and nods. "Perhaps, but so, then, should I."

"You're five hundred years old?" Nia prods. "What are you, a Blade?" As if. He doesn't—

"Something like that. You know about Flesh Eaters, I assume?"

Nia chokes on her words, feeling Dromarch subtly grounding her by pressing into her legs. "K-know about them?" she says. "Sure, I might have heard a thing or two about Flesh Eaters, yeah. Who hasn't?"

Okay, that wasn't a suspicious response at all. You go, Nia.

“Blades fused with human cells. The experiments were plenty back then, and so were the failures,” he explains. He reaches up, pulling aside the neckline of his shirt until a core crystal can clearly be seen shining there. As if to add to the confirmation, he nods, and Nia’s eyes glue to the spot.

It isn’t blue, like a regular Blades—it's got angry red swirls throughout, that almost look like they're moving within the crystal, and suddenly, Nia feels a lot worse about the decisions she's made the past few days. There’s only one thing a unique core crystal like that can mean.

"You're a Flesh Eater," she states, staring at his core crystal in what might look to the others like awe.

“Tora not sure about all this. Friend is Blade, but… not Blade, yes?” Tora tilts his head, staring up at Cole with his usual blank gaze.

He nods yet again. "Of the many failures, I was one of the first. Because of this, my body is deteriorating, and I gained none of the power the experimenters promised. Just lost my mortality, and my dependence on my Driver. The man that climbed the World Tree all those years ago would be my Driver, who I haven’t spoken to in quite some time."

“Oh,” Rex says, “I’ve never met a Flesh Eater before.”

Oh, he says, as if Cole hadn’t just casually revealed something about himself Nia’s struggled with her entire life, run from her entire life, oh.

"Wait, if you're..." Malos seems to come to something of a recognition. "I was wondering where I knew you from. Been a few years, Minoth.”

Cole nods slowly. "I've grown quite a bit older since last we met. I thought I’d test how well your memory worked after so many years.”

Malos raises an eyebrow at Cole. "Are you sure sending us to him is a good idea? Last I checked, you didn't exactly have a great relationship with your Driver."

Cole lets out a sigh. "True, I never liked him, but I think, if you give him this, he'll understand and at least give you the right direction to go in to sort all this out. It's his responsibility, after everything he's done."

There's a sentence Cole leaves unsaid, there, and Nia finds herself incredibly curious to hear the story behind what he isn't saying. More importantly, she has something a lot more important to tend to.

"So then, you lot are returning to Garfont before figuring out your next move, yes? If you... still wish to make it to Elysium and climb the World Tree, might I recommend that you visit Indol and find my Driver? I'm sure Amalthus will have the information you seek."

Nia blinks once, twice even. "A-Amalthus? You don't mean Praetor Amalthus, d'you? Blue skin, really old but doesn't look it, been the Praetor longer than I've been alive?"

Malos scoffs. "Is that what he's up to, these days?"

"Yes, that man is my Driver. We... haven't gotten along much, if at all.”

"You mean to tell me that the Praetor is over five hundred years old, as well? I can see how Malos could do it, but what's that guy's secret?" Nia questions.

Cole doesn't offer a proper answer. "If you plan to do it, then take this weapon. It was mine, back when I lived a more... active lifestyle."

Rex swallows thickly beside Nia. "We'll do it. If that guy's got the information we need, then we'll have to ask him, right? I don't see how else we're gonna climb the World Tree, not unless everyone wants to take on that artifice thing."

"So then, Elysium is still your goal," Cole says, smiling in a way that doesn't remotely reach his eyes. "Your resolve may even have strengthened after the events at Olethro."

Rex doesn't meet Cole's eyes, or anyone's, for that matter. He stares pointedly at the cobblestone pathway as he clenches his fists. "Of course we're still goin' for Elysium. Now, more than ever, even. Mythra, and the others—they took something important from me. They've done that to a lot of other people, too, yeah?"

"Poppi recall that Torna group responsible for many deaths of many people," the robot observes, the first thing she's said in some time. "It very likely that they continue hurting as considered fit."

Rex nods. "Right. And Malos said the only way to stop Mythra was to get to Elysium. So that's what I'm gonna do. I'll get to Elysium, I'll stop Mythra, and I'll carry on, for Vandham's sake."

Nia raises an impressed eyebrow, unsure what to say. “You’ve really… come a long way already, Rex,” she says, watching him. She can’t see his face, not when he’s watching the stones in the opposite direction, but still.

“Nia, you’ll come, too, won’t you?” Rex says, suddenly turning his head to look at her.

She almost takes a step back in the surprise of the question. “I wasn’t plannin’ on leavin’,” she replies, “but are you sure you still… want me around? After everything?”

There’s more she leaves unsaid. If Rex truly understood the weight of what she’d done—or failed to do—yesterday, she’s sure he wouldn’t be asking now. But… she can’t exactly tell him. Not now. Not when it’d be so easy to make the leap from “Nia isn’t human” to “Nia had every ability to save Vandham’s life and chose not to.”

Every ability.

She chokes on her words.

“Well, yeah,” he says. “I never changed my mind about that. You’re always talkin’ about leavin’, though, and I figured if I didn’t ask, you’d try to leave again anyway.”

Well, he’s not completely unfounded, she thinks. “I’m not leavin’. Not at this point. Well, I was gonna hang back for a bit, but leavin’ hadn’t even crossed my mind.”

“Hang back, my lady?” Dromarch looks up at her in surprise.

She nods. “Not for long. I… If it’s alright, I’d like ‘ta see what I can do to help Cole. Healing and all that. It might take a day or two to properly treat him, so I thought I might hang back while you lot headed back to Garfont.”

Rex shares a glance with Malos, then with Zenobia, and then to Tora and Poppi, his eyebrows high. “Yeah, I don’t think we mind at all. We’ll just have to be careful travellin’, right?”

She nods. “Well, if you need to, you can take Dromarch with ya. I wanted to try a more natural approach to healin’ ‘im, anyway. Don’t need ether to pick plants and make salves.”

Cole’s own eyebrows are raised as he watches the exchange. When Nia glances nervously back at him, he seems to understand at least a little something. “Well, if you’re so insistent on trying to help me, I won’t stop you,” he says, and Nia’s heart lightens a bit.

It’s a split second decision, but it’s hers to make, and she can’t help but be happy at how smoothly things are going at present.

~

“Alright, so, we’ll travel t’Garfont tonight and spend the night there after talkin’ with Yew and Zuo. Nia, you’ll stay here to try to treat Cole, and we’ll be back tomorrow afternoon to get a ship to head to Indol. That sounds good to everyone, right?”

Nia cringes under the pressure of silence and time, even if the silence is quickly broken. She awaits their objections like a death sentence, but they never come.

“Right then! We’re all packed to go, so I guess we’ll be seeing you tomorrow, Nia?”

Nia nods. “Right! I’ll see you guys then. Don’t be stupid on the way, alright?”

Malos rolls his eyes, but for once, he doesn’t seem so annoyed to her. “Do you know who you’re talking to? They’re all stupid.”

Zenobia lets out a scandalized gasp. “Rude! Don’t antagonize me with words if you aren’t prepared to fight me, Malos!”

“Is friend certain about separating from Blade?” Poppi asks, oblivious to the situation.

“Don’t just take it, Poppi, Malos just called us stupid!”

Poppi tilts her head. “Why Zenobia angry? Poppi know she not stupid. Masterpon not stupid either.”

“Because!” Zenobia stomps her foot. “It’s rude, and factually incorrect!”

The bickering continues for a minute. Nia lets out a snort of laughter. “Alright, alright, get going, you lot. Oh, Rex, your concussion is probably good now, but still be careful, or I’ll come after you anyways.”

Rex nods. Nia crouches down to Dromarch’s level. “I’ll be fine, alright? It’s not the first time we’ve been apart.”

Dromarch looks at her with tired eyes. The others may not be able to see it, but she knows he’s nervous. True, they haven’t ever separated for very long, and almost never willingly, but she can stand on her own, and so can he.

It’ll be alright.

Dromarch presses the top of his head into her hand as she pats him, a simple gesture of affection

The group gives their parting farewells, and Nia watches them leave, turning once they’ve descended the first set of stairs leading out of Fonsa Myma.

~

Nia enters the dusty old room of the theater with tentative steps, clutching close her bag of various plants and herbs she'd crushed up after Rex and the others left for Garfont. "Alright, I'm here," Nia says, eyes falling on Cole. He's poring over some book or another, scribbling in its pages, and she's almost curious as to what he's working on.

Not curious enough, however, to ask. She presses forward, looking at him with a furrowed brow. Cole glances up at her.

"You're rather tense, for a healer who offered to do this."

She flinches. "To tell the truth, I... had another reason to stay behind."

Cole has his core crystal covered up now, covering the blues and the pink that tell a story of a painful past. Her own core crystal doesn't show, but perhaps that's the reason for the way she feels utterly defenseless right now. She'd opted for a more open look for once—hood carefully concealing her core crystal, covering her shoulders...

She reaches up now and pulls the cloth to the side to expose the kite-shaped core crystal there.

"I wanted to talk. About this."

Cole's eyebrows raise, and he rises to his feet. "I'll make tea."

~

The cup of tea before Nia is piping hot. She'd taken the time to pull the upper part of her jumpsuit back on, covering the core crystal once again, and now she stares into the cup of tea like it's a threat, as if some soldier could jump out and arrest her at any given moment.

"To tell you the truth, my healing is a lot better without Dromarch," she starts. "My power is... almost scarily good. It'd be stupid not to acknowledge that much. I guess... you called yourself a failed experiment, right? I guess I was one of the Flesh Eaters who succeeded."

He nods, signaling her to continue.

The words don't want to come, but she forces them out anyway. "I could have saved Vandham's life, in Olethro. It wasn't anythin' about being faster, or stronger, or smarter. I was just... too scared to move. Too scared to give myself up."

"Your friends don't know about you being a Flesh Eater?"

She shakes her head, almost in horror. "You're actually the second person I've told, and the first time was only because Malos figured out there was something up to begin with. I guess I... really wanted to say that I'm jealous of you." She sips the tea cautiously, then realizes her words. "Wait, no, not that. Just... I think it's really... amazing, that you were able to tell everybody about that. It’s something I’ve struggled with for a long time.”

Cole watches her for a moment as he searches for the right words.

"Sorry," she says instinctively. "I'm probably making all of this really awkward for you, aren't I? I've never... told anyone about me, before."

"The best thing you can probably do for yourself is keep telling the right people."

She sips her tea, trying not to shut down his advice on instinct. "How can I know who the 'right people' are?"

"Your friends, for starters. You already know they accepted me, so why not you?”

Nia shrugs. "Sure, they accepted you. But I’m…”

"What makes you so different?"

She pauses, looking at Cole with wide eyes. "I'm sorry?"

"You heard me. What makes you different enough that they'd accept me, but reject you?"

She's not certain how to answer. She searches her mind, but no answer comes. "Well, I guess that I... that I let someone die for no reason other than fear."

"Well, there's no changing that, but I don't think any of them would blame you. It's probably harder for you. When I went through the experiments, Flesh Eaters were still new, and no one knew what to think of them."

"I was going to be executed for being… this way, taken back to Indol. I never went through any experiments, never made it back. Probably owe Torna a lot more of a debt than I ever repaid, but, well..."

"There's no shame in not repaying a debt to bad people," Cole says, and Nia takes another sip of her tea. "No shame at all."

They finish out their tea in relative silence, Nia stewing in Cole's words as she tries to make sense of the path ahead of her. She's afraid, sure, but is that really okay? Is it really okay to let her fear kill? How far will it go?

When she's finished, she stands, inhaling deeply in preparation. Cole watches her with interest as she bathes in the light of ether, as the form she chose falls away to reveal her true form, long hair and an ethereal air.

"I'm going to see what my healing can do for you, alright?" she says, setting down the teacup. She concentrates, focuses in on Cole's form, and she finds...

Well, she doesn't find much. It's as though his core crystal is choking on the ether, like with every breath he breathes, he fails to take in as much as he should. And the effects... well, she's no expert, but she knows dying organs when she senses them.

When she opens her eyes, she releases a sigh. “Well, I know the problem, but the solution will be a bit more… difficult.”

“Difficult how?”

She shrugs. “Your ether balance is all off. You’re not takin’ in ether properly, and it’s affectin’ your whole body, startin’ with your lungs, I’d imagine. Problem is, it’s a problem with your core crystal, which I can’t do anythin’ about. I can bandage the issue, revitalize your body a little bit, but I can’t make your core crystal work the way it’s supposed to.” As she speaks, she pulls at the Flesh Eater with her ether, does her best to repair what she can.

“I don’t know if there’s anythin’ we can do about your ether balance, honestly. The best thing I can recommend for that is to spend more time in your element and try ta consciously bring the ether in, maybe for about an hour a day. Meditate a bit. It’ll probably be easier for you, since the most you need is a really dark room. Lucky your element’s not fire, or you’d be havin’ a real tough time of it. Hafta go sit in a campfire for an hour.”

The corners of Cole’s lips twitch into a smile. “I can imagine how that might be a little inconvenient. Thank you for your help, Nia.”

She smiles back. “It was the least I can do. Thank you, for yours.”

Chapter Text

Walking back to Garfont, guideless, is a special kind of sadness Rex wasn’t quite fully prepared for. He follows the group, mind wandering back to the question of Nia, how she’s doing with Cole on her own right now. Dromarch walks along beside Rex, looking a bit strange in comparison to his usual position by Nia’s side.

Poppi remembers the path back to Garfont better than anyone, having apparently been built with some sort of map function, and so she leads the charge, marching forward to their destination without a care in the world. Strangely, though, Tora hangs back, following behind the group rather than walking alongside his Blade.

Rex really isn’t feeling up to conversation right now, but the atmosphere is too heavy to bear. Someone has to break the silence, so...

“So… how’s everyone…?”

Yep. Still got those conversational skills. Still got it.

Tora speaks from behind him. “Does... Rex-Rex think Tora made mistake?”

“What?” Rex says, glancing back at the Nopon with concern.

“Tora think… maybe it Tora’s fault for not wake up. Maybe if Tora wake up when Poppi come to wake him, Biggipon not…” Tora’s eyes cast downwards, and even the spike of hair atop his head seems to deflate with the admission.

“Oh, Tora,” Zenobia says, voice a hush, tinted with pain. “You know that wasn’t your fault.”

“Masterpon lazy,” Poppi adds, “not something to be proud of. But not reason for death of Vandham.”

“Maybe core crystals right. Tora not meant to be Driver. Tora not have potential for be amazing Driver or even okay Driver.” He lets out a sigh that, in that moment, seems too big for him.

“Masterpon…”

Malos, surprisingly, decides to add to the conversation. “Listen, just because there were things you could have done better doesn’t mean you could have done anything to actually save him. What would you have even done? Make Mythra not be an Aegis? Make him be immortal? Died in his place?”

“Malos,” Rex says, “maybe you should—”

“I’m just saying, there wasn’t anything any of you could have done. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you’ll be able to do better. You can’t pick up the pieces and move on if you spend all your time just looking at how they fell.”

Rex carefully turns his words over in his head before chipping in. “Yeah.”

Nailed it.

“There was a lot I could’ve done better, too,” Rex continues. “I think all of us feel like that. But you can’t just throw away all that work you did to become a Driver because you feel like you made a mistake. And you’ve done a lot more to become a Driver than most Drivers have, I think.”

“More than Rex-rex?”

Zenobia snorts. “Didn’t Rex literally die for it?”

“Meh, that good point. Maybe not do as much as Rex-rex,” Tora says. “Tora thankful for have many great friends. Tora want to be better, but… can learn to be good fighter, but that not make good Driver.”

“I can admire the drive to improve yourself,” Zenobia says. “If that’s what you want, then go for it.”

Tora looks up at her with bright eyes. “Tora want to know how friends so cool! Rex-rex Driver and Zenobia and Malos Blade, yes, but much cooler than average Driver, and very reliable, too!”

Rex glances up at the sky, humming thoughtfully. “I don’t know if I’d go that far… I’m also just not really sure if I know how to answer that question.”

“Start by actually waking up on time,” Malos says flatly. “If you can pull that off, you might actually get somewhere.”

Tora nods excitedly. “Then Tora take steps to wake up with friends every morning! Need only watch; Tora will be just as cool and reliable as Rex-rex!” He pauses in his gait, posing confidently.

Rex can’t help but smile, though it’s tinged with embarrassment. “We’ll look forward to it, then.”

“You’re really fired up, Tora. I like it!” Zenobia grins. “You know where to find me if you ever want to work on your fighting skills, and I’m sure we can get Nia in on it again, too!”

“Tora sure to become fantastic fightypon with friends’ help!” Tora picks up his pace to catch up, smiling at the group as he does.

“Poppi will ensure support of all Masterpon’s future endeavors,” Poppi declares, smiling back at Tora.

Altogether, the group moves forward, and even Rex finds the weight on his shoulders is just a little bit lighter as the trek continues. Everyone’s working hard to pick up their own pieces, after all. It’s only right that he tries his best, too, right?

~

Garfont seems remarkably sleepier since the last time they were here, Rex finds. Maybe it’s something to do with the group’s fallen—somewhat restored, but fallen nonetheless—spirits since their last visit, but deep down, he knows it’s got more to do with who’s not here.

“So, Rex, you’re going to go talk to Yew and Zuo, right?” Zenobia asks.

“Yeah, if I can find them. Why?”

She smooshes Tora’s hair down, grinning. “I was thinking I might take advantage of Tora’s new energy and take him to the training grounds. You’re okay with that, right, Tora?”

“Meh? Friend want to train now?”

“Yeah! Come on, you’re so gung ho about improving yourself, right? You’ll sleep better if you get some good exercise, and there’s no time like the present!”

Rex smiles. “Well, I’m alright with it if you are.”

“If you are going to train, perhaps it’s best if I accompany you,” Dromarch says. “Zenobia and Poppi will be fine, but Tora may need some healing if this is to turn out well.”

Zenobia nods, grin only widening. “Perfect! Malos, Gramps, do you two wanna join? I think Yew and Zuo only really need to talk to Rex, right? We can make a whole thing out of it!”

“I’ll pass,” Malos says, not even looking at her. Instead, he’s scanning the people milling about Garfont, sharp eyes looking for something Rex can’t even begin to guess.

“Aw, come on, you party pooper. I’m sure with all your experience, you’d give great advice…”

“No. Besides, like hell am I trusting Rex on his own again.”

Rex laughs nervously, throwing an arm behind his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh come on, I can handle myself for a few minutes.”

Malos looks him dead in the eye, raising an eyebrow wordlessly.

“…Okay, so maybe I’ve got a bit of a track record going, but still. If you want to go with them, go ahead.”

“I don’t.”

Privately, Rex chooses to take that as a compliment, though he’s almost certain Malos just wants to get away from Zenobia for five minutes and would actually prefer the hidden third option of being alone.

“I think I’ll accompany Rex as well. I’m curious as to what it is Yew and Zuo wanted.” Gramps places his hands on Rex’s shoulder, craning his neck around Rex’s head to properly look at Zenobia and the others.

“Great! It’s decided! Tora, Poppi, Dromarch, you’re coming with me! Rex, Gramps, and the party pooper will go talk to Yew and Zuo!”

“Alright,” Rex says, waving them off. “We’ll see you later, then. Dromarch, keep an eye on them, alright?”

Dromarch nods. “You have my word.”

Zenobia, Tora, and Poppi leave, Dromarch padding dutifully after them. Rex scans the busy central area of Garfont for Yew and Zuo, popping up on his toes to see a bit better. After a long moment, he spots them under a canopy next to a building across the center.

“Found ‘em!” He turns back to Malos. “Come on, let’s go.”

Malos follows silently, and soon, they come to a stop in front of the two men. Rex suddenly loses the words to greet him properly, floundering momentarily. “Uh, hey.”

“Ah, there you are, Rex!” Yew says, looking up from some logbook or another and setting down the quill he’d been writing with. Perun stands behind him, watching with cold eyes and crossed arms. “We were starting to wonder whether you’d show.”

“Aha, yeah,” Rex manages. “Had to settle some stuff in Fonsa Myma before we left.”

“Your friends didn’t come with?” Zuo asks, eye darting between Rex and Malos, expecting more.

Rex shakes his head. “No, they did. Well, mostly. Zenobia’s trying to train Tora and Poppi. Nia stayed behind in Fonsa Myma to talk with Cole. We’re regrouping with her after this.”

“Ah, gotcha. Well, no big deal. We only really needed to talk to you, anyway.”

Yew flips through some pages in the book he’d been writing in, apparently looking for something. Silence falls on their group, and Rex swallows thickly.

“I’m sorry.” It tumbles out unthinkingly, as though the words had been laying in wait in his throat for just the right moment, or maybe exactly the wrong moment, but laying in wait all the same.

Zuo gives him a smile that’s perhaps a bit broken. “You don’t need to apologize. The big guy had to go eventually, right? Nothing you could’ve done about that.”

Rex bites down the words that threaten to spill from his mouth. He could have done something about it. He could have—

“Actually, that’s part of the reason why we asked you here,” Yew says, finally stopping his flipping of pages and producing a sheet of paper.

Rex snaps out of his thoughts, reacting appropriately with the raise of an eyebrow. “Why’d you call me out here, exactly?”

“Vandham always made sure to have a list of instructions in place in case somethin’ happened to him, yeah? You’ve kind of got to, in this line of work.”

“So what’s that got to do with me?” They’d only known each other a few days, Rex reasons, it’s not as though he’d have made his way into Vandham’s will.

Yew glances over the paper he’d found, eyes stopping maybe about halfway down. “Ah, here it is. ‘I leave both leadership and ownership of the Garfont Mercenaries to Rex.’”

There’s a long moment of silence as Rex processes, or maybe fails to process, the words.

“…Sorry, what? I’m still nursing a concussion, I don’t think I heard you properly there.”

“Nah, that sounds right,” Zuo says. “The merc group’s yours now, if you’re willing to take it.”

“Um…” Rex’s eyes dart between Gramps on his shoulder, who’s equally as shocked, and Malos at his other side, who’s just as stoic and vaguely annoyed-looking as ever. All the weight that had lifted off his shoulders on the hike to Garfont crashes back down with full force, tightening around his chest and leaving him nothing short of bewildered. “Can I… can I have some time to think about it first?”

“Sure, take all the time you need,” Zuo replies. “There’s not too much of a rush. We’re prepared to keep things running whether or not we’ve got a new leader.”

“That’s all we needed to talk to you about, so if you’ve got any questions about what would be expected of you and all that, just ask! Just let us know what you want to do before you leave Garfont.”

Rex nods, glancing back at Malos. “The others should still be at the training grounds. I guess we can head back over there while I try to think?”

“Fine by me,” Malos shrugs.

Rex nods in response, waving awkwardly to Yew and Zuo before turning back to find the training grounds. Every step feels weighed down now—he’s got quite a lot of thinking to do.

~

Rex leans against the wall, watching as a group of men exercise to the side of the training grounds. Tora is training hard with Zenobia and Poppi, and Architect knows what Malos is thinking about. He’s just spaced out, looks like, not looking at anyone in particular.

Rex, however, focuses on people-watching to keep his mind off of, or perhaps to help him focus on, the matter of his inheritance. There’s a pair of Drivers sparring, still more mercs doing pushups, and even a few kids who’d excitedly begged to join in the training, given practice swords and careful instruction.

Would they even accept me as a leader? I’m just a kid. He frowns. Yeah. Just a kid.

How would he even act as a leader? How could he keep a group like this going?

The more he watches, the less sure he is of an answer.

It takes him quite some time to fall asleep that night.

~

A cloudless sky greets Rex not long after he finally falls asleep. He pushes himself up to his elbows, glancing out at the green horizon, marred only by the building in the far distance. Briefly, Rex wonders if he can really go to that building, whether it’s some tangible place or just a piece of scenery. Maybe some night he ends up here, he’ll try to walk out to it, to investigate what those walls might contain.

For a moment, he’s lost in staring at the horizon, but then a memory knocks at his skull, not too politely. Not quite a gentle knock; more like a panicked beating on the door of his mind, as if it’s imperative that he remembers, and he opens the door, wondering what calamity has brought him here this time. Last time it was Mythra, the Calamity herself, imploring him to come save a life, which resulted in…

He shudders. Not a pleasant thought.

Sure, there’d been a time before that he’d woken up here that everything was fine, but even before that, he’d first come here because he’d died. He pushes himself to sit up, placing a hand over his core crystal thoughtfully.

“Malos…?” he calls out, looking around perhaps a bit too frantically. She wouldn’t be back, right? Surely, she’s got to be busy, picking up the pieces after what happened to her Blade, what they did to him—

“Right here, kid.” Malos’s voice is an instant comfort as he rounds the tree, having been conditioned just out of sight.

Rex visibly relaxes at the sight of him. He almost laughs. How can someone so intimidating be a comfort? “Thought you might’ve been someone else, for a second there.”

Malos raises an eyebrow down at him. “Who else would it be?”

“Well, last time it was… Mythra…”

Malos sighs. “I figured as much. She was here when I woke up last time, too.”

“How’d she get here the first time, anyway? I figured this—” —he gestures to the world around them— “—was only a thing because of the whole core crystal thing we’ve got going on.”

He shakes his head. “Who knows? Probably because she’s also an Aegis. Not like I’ve got a manual on this stuff.”

The conversation falls away for a bit.

“I don’t know what to do about the merc group,” Rex blurts. “I’ve been thinking about it all day and still don’t know.”

He shrugs. “Beats me.”

“Thanks, that’s very helpful.”

“What I do know is you’ve got a lot going on already. Do you think you can handle an ongoing responsibility that’s that involved and travel Alrest looking for a way to get to Elysium at the same time?”

Rex shakes his head after a moment. “No, I don’t think I can. Not for a while, at least. Elysium first, yeah?”

“Yeah. Elysium first.”

Rex falls into his thoughts for a bit, stewing in them privately before the silence is too much. “I wonder how Nia’s doing back in Fonsa Myma. You think everything’s alright with Cole?”

“I guess. Not really sure how much Nia can do for him.”

“I mean, it’s Nia. She knows a lot about this healing stuff, so it’ll work out, right?” Rex outright refuses to let Malos’s outlook dampen his own, and presses on. “I mean, she helped me with my concussion and everything. Even when we’ve got Dromarch, I bet she’ll do a pretty good job.”

“Sure, if the problem’s his body. He’s not a normal person or a normal Blade. If the problem is something with the Blade part of him, like his ability to take in the right amount of ether, no amount of plants are going to help. Given the situation, it’s almost definitely his core crystal.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure there’s something she can do to help him. How d’you know she won’t be able to fix him up just fine?”

“I’m an Aegis, kid. Comes with the territory. As far as I remember, Flesh Eaters are Blades that have become completely independent from their Drivers. They can live on past the death of their Driver, but that comes with a lot more problems than just not being able to return to your core.”

“Well, I’d like to believe she can figure it out, anyway.”

Malos shakes his head. “That optimism of yours is going to get you killed someday, kid.”

“I think it already did, actually,” Rex replies, glancing at Malos from the corner of his eye with a small smile.

Malos stares out at the silent horizon, eyes firmly fixed on something there. Maybe it’s the building Rex had been staring at earlier, has been staring at this whole time. Maybe it’s something else, something Rex can’t see or chooses not to. But maybe what he’s looking at doesn’t matter. Maybe he’s just looking.

And maybe it’s a trick of the light, but Rex swears there’s a small, fond smile on Malos’s lips, poorly disguised by the shadows of the tree.

Privately, Rex decides that he’ll keep his optimism, thank you very much, and brings his gaze back to watching the horizon with a smile of his own.

Maybe that’s the best thing he can do.

~

“You what?” Nia says, eyes widening at Rex’s words as he finishes recounting what she missed while they were in Garfont. “Why the hell would you turn that down?”

“It’s more like, I told them I couldn’t do it yet,” Rex corrects her. “I’m a bit too busy to try runnin’ a merc group on top of that, yeah?”

“A bit young, too,” she remarks. “But still, that’s… actually pretty mature, coming from you.”

“Yeah, I thought about it and just… knew I wouldn’t be able to. They said they could handle things until I came back from… everything we’ve got going on right now. I still technically own it, but I won’t be leadin’ it for a while yet.”

“Yeah, actually, you know what? I’m almost proud of you for making that decision,” she decides.

Tora raises his hand excitedly, along with his wing. “Ooh! Can Tora also say something?”

Nia raises an eyebrow. “Sure, but you don’t need to ask permission to talk.”

“Oh, Tora trying to be more like cool Driver. Malos say on way back that Tora should get permission before speak to make sure Tora not say anything useless!”

Nia tries hard to suppress her laughter at that, managing to keep it down to only a few bubbling laughs. “I see. That’s certainly one way to do it. What were you going to say?”

“Right! Rex-rex also leave core crystal with friends in Garfont.”

Nia blinks, turning to Rex. “You left Roc with them?”

“Yeah. I figured they should stay with whoever the leader of the mercs is. If I were to die or something, then Roc’s lost, too.” he says, shuddering a bit.

“I guess that makes sense. You really put thought into this one, kid.”

He rubs the back of his neck, smiling. “Well, I just tried to, I don’t know, do what made sense. I’m honored that Vandham left the merc group to me, but after talking it over with Malos a bit, it’s just not a good time for it, is all.”

“Speaking of Malos, isn’t he taking kind of a long time?” Zenobia comments. “How long can it take to look over Cole?”

Nia shrugs. She’d managed to rope Malos into taking a look at Cole’s core crystal before they left, since that seemed to be the source of the problem. She was surprised when he’d agreed without much fuss, but now they have to wait on him.

She supposes using the time to get caught up isn’t the worst thing, but she can’t help worrying more than she pays attention. If even Malos can’t do anything, then she’s not sure how to tell Cole or the others that it’s best to accept that he’s going to die soon. If she should tell them.

“Probably not much longer,” she says. “It hasn’t been that long, and all that.”

“Do you really think Malos can do anything, Nia?” Rex asks.

She nods absently. There’s not much she can say without giving away too much, so she chooses her next words carefully. “When I took a look at him, it seemed like his body was… lacking something. Something important. He’s coughing a lot, but it’s not like he’s not breathing enough.

“His element’s dark, so I figured he might not be getting enough ether. If anyone can do something about a core crystal’s ether intake, I figure it’s probably an Aegis, and the other one’s... not exactly the person we want to be asking about that.”

“Yeah, really.”

She snorts. “Even if Mythra were an option, I think Malos would still be better. Same ether type and all that.”

Rex glances back at the playhouse, where Malos is looking Cole over. If he’s trying to hide how nervous he is, he’s doing an awful job at it. “I hope it works.”

“There’s no need to worry, my boy,” Azurda says gently. “Malos has plenty of experience with this sort of situation. Believe it or not, this is not the first time he’s assisted Cole.”

“It’s not?” Nia tilts her head.

“Oh, right,” Rex says. “When he told us that he was a Flesh Eater, Malos acted like he knew him, didn’t he?”

“So Malos has helped friend before?”

Azurda nods. “I’m sure Malos won’t be very happy with me telling you, but he and Minoth used to travel together, back when Malos was with Addam. I was much less portable, then, so I wasn’t around, but they had a bit of a mutualistic relationship.”

“What are you talking about?” Malos asks as he exits the building.

Azurda smiles at him. “Nothing important. We were just about to discuss our travel route. How was Minoth?”

Malos shrugs. “Ask him yourself.”

Cole joins him, smiling. Unless Nia’s mistaken, his posture’s a little straighter now, his face a bit brighter.

“Cole, how d’you feel?”

“I’m not sure how Malos did it, but between the two of you, I feel much better already,” he says.

“I tried to open up his ether channels to take in ether more efficiently. Guess it worked.”

“I already feel as though it’s easier to breathe.”

Nia places a hand on her hip, smiling. “Glad to hear it. I’d still say to do your routine meditation like I showed you, to keep your ether flow healthy. And let us know if you have any issues, yeah? I can probably come back with Malos after all this is over to check you over again.”

“Would you mind? Once all of you have accessed the World Tree and found what you’re looking for, I’d like to write a play about your journeys.”

“Really?” Rex says, eyes widening. “I mean, I think we’d all be happy to, but it’s a little bit embarrassing, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps, but I think it’s a story people will want to hear, and I’d be honored to tell it.” Cole bows his head slightly. “Will you be going to Indol now?”

Rex nods. “I think so. We’ll have to take a bit of a roundabout way to get there cheaply, but I think we can make it work.”

“I don’t know if I like the idea of talking to that guy,” Malos says, “but if he’s the only one we can talk to who might be able to get us around that Artifice…”

“Yes, I’m afraid it’s the only thing I know to advise you to do.” Cole grimaces. “Perhaps he’s changed since last we spoke. It’s been a good few years, after all, and I like to believe people can change.”

“Is the Praetor unpleasant or something?” Zenobia asks, bright eyes curiously studying Cole’s face. “Isn’t he supposed to be like, the head religious guy, or whatever?”

“That he is,” Dromarch says. “If I recall, the current Praetor has held his seat in the Praetorium for quite a few years now. There are several rumors abound about his true age, to be certain. I’m not certain how much stock you can take in such rumors, however, given they seem to be mostly perpetuated by dissidents of the Indoline faith…”

“It’s true that the Praetor has been around and at least an adult since the Aegis war five hundred years ago,” Azurda comments, “but it’s also worth noting that the people of Indol are known for living particularly long lives.”

“First I’ve heard of it.”

Nia tries to remember the last time she was on good terms with anyone from Indol. Sure, once in a while there might have been the rare Indoline person in Gormott, but none she ever spoke to, for sure. If she did, she doesn’t remember their names, let alone how she got on with them.

She suppresses a shudder. The only thing she really knows about Indoline people is the ever-increasing threat of being found out, of being sent to Indol for study or neutralization or probably both, of becoming some sort of tool for the people there. Not a pleasant thought.

She wonders, briefly, if she can even handle going to Indol. But she doesn’t have a choice. She said she’d stick with them and by the Architect she’s going to stick with him. No more running away.

That’s the one thing she’s gained from speaking with Cole over the past two days. Stop running away. Look your problems in the face and claw their fucking eyes out. That’s what she should have been doing from the beginning. That’s what she’d been trying to do with Mythra and Torna, but in the end, that failed spectacularly.

They took her in. They were the only people aside from Dromarch who’d ever really accepted her, knowing full well who she was, and they’d used that against her. Betrayed her. Used her as a tool and a means to an end and now they wanted her dead.

“Nia?”

“Sorry, what?” She snaps out of her rumination to find that she’s being stared at. “Got lost in thought.”

“You alright, Nia?” Rex asks. “You looked almost… scared for a second there.”

“I’m fine,” she snaps. “Like I said, I just got lost in thought. You were asking me something?”

“Yeah, right. We were talking about how we were going to get to Indol. Did you catch the route, or should I relay it back to you?”

“No need.” She shakes her head, fluffing her ears and hair out in an attempt to regain her composure. “I’m fine with whatever it is you lot have decided to do.”

He gives her a soft smile for a moment. “Alright then. Now that that’s decided, I think we’ll be heading on our way.”

“I’ll be heading back inside, then,” Cole says, stretching a bit.

“What friend going to do now?” Tora asks, tilting his head.

Cole smiles down at him. “What I’ve always done, I guess. I’ve got a memorial to get started on, now that you kids are leaving. Vandham’s story is one that deserves to be told. At least in death, I can give him that much.”

Rex chokes on his words a bit. “Well then, we should leave you to that. I look forward to seeing it once we’re back from Elysium.”

Cole laughs, a dry, almost bittersweet sound. “I hope you’ll be able to enjoy more of the plays this old man writes.”

“I’m sure we will,” Nia replies with a smile. As the others turn to leave, she glances back. “And Cole?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for all your help.”

If Cole ever responds to Nia, she doesn’t hear it. Just as quickly as the words tumble out of her mouth, she turns to follow her friends, quickly whipping her hood up over her ears and scampering after them. Dromarch follows dutifully, and Nia can only assume that Cole silently re-enters his playhouse, returns to that dusty, dark room, and continues writing the plays he loves so much.

I’ll stay with them until we meet again, she silently promises herself, promises Cole. It won’t be easy, but I’ve never really known easy, so I’m sure I can handle this much.

Better, even. She will handle this much.

~

Somehow, Nia finds herself back in Argentum’s Goldmouth port feeling ever-so-nervous that she’ll be recognized. She keeps her hood up as Rex confidently navigates the port, leading them up multiple sets of stairs to find the inn.

Her eyes dart around the busy guild as she climbs, keeping her head low. Dromarch seems to have realized the same thing, and stays directly in the center of the group, trying hard to conceal his presence as they make their way to Lemour Inn.

“What are you acting so scared for?” Malos asks, glancing back at Nia and her hunched form.

She winces, eyes passing over another stranger. She wonders if anyone knows who she is, whether they recognize her. She ignores the ones who’re clearly not salvagers—mothers with their children, or Drivers milling about. They wouldn’t have been hired by Torna back then, she reasons. But the more middle-aged men, the ones wearing salvaging suits or trading cloud-logged goods with Nopon on the ground floor, she tries her best to avoid eye contact with, ears instinctively flattening against her head.

“I just… would rather not be recognized,” she replies, voice almost a hiss. “It could cause some unnecessary issues, and all that. Especially if they’re anyone we… hired… last time I was here.”

“Oh, right,” Rex says. “We can cross that bridge when we get there, though. Come on, let’s get to the inn so you can relax a bit.”

She nods, raising her head just enough to keep eye contact. “More like burn that bridge when we get there,” she mumbles, though her comment goes unheard.

Once they’ve reserved two rooms in the inn (on a tab, thanks to Rex), Nia goes straight into her room and flops face down on the bed, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. “No one recognized me,” she mumbles in her exhausted triumph.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Rex comments as he enters the room, leaning against the doorway. “Sorry, I didn’t even think about how you’d feel coming back here.”

Nia rolls over to her back, craning her neck to look at him. “Nah, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just thought some salvager might recognize me after that whole business with the ship and Torna, and then we’d have a whole problem on our hands.”

Rex sighs to himself, though it doesn’t seem exasperated. “It’s weird to think about how far we’ve come already since then. Never even thought I’d be a Driver, let alone going to Elysium. It was always more of a dream than something I could attain, you know?”

Nia smiles, flopping her arms out in the area behind her bed and giving another big exhale. “Yeah. Never thought I’d be travelling with a bunch of kids and newbies like you and Tora.”

“Oi, I’m not a kid. We’ve been over this already.” Rex crosses the room and sits on the edge of one of the beds.

She laughs, pushing herself to a seated position. “Yeah, you’re right. Still, you’ve done a lot of growing up already. You didn’t act much like a kid to begin with, but now it’s less like you’re trying to act like an adult and more like you’re just being an adult.”

“You really think so?” he says, eyes lighting up just a bit. “I don’t feel that much different.”

“You don’t?” She raises an eyebrow, leaning back on her elbows. “That’s kinda shocking. It’s been a rough few days. Probably for the best that you change a bit to accommodate that.”

“I mean, yeah, I’ve got to change a little. I died, after all. That’d change anyone. But I don’t feel like I have.”

Nia falls quiet for a bit. “What was it like? To die, I mean.” Something she’d maybe always wondered. “To just be... dead.”

Rex shudders with a grimace. “It hurt a lot, and then it didn’t, and then I was standing in front of Malos and he was offering to save my life, but I didn’t remember that my life needed to be saved, or how I got there. I was sort of… hollow, I guess? And it was hard to breathe. I don’t know how much that helps you, though.”

“Helpful, right,” Nia says teasingly. “I just kinda wondered what it was like, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. It wasn’t exactly very fun.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m tryin’ to or anything. Just curious, I guess.”

“That makes sense. I’d be curious, too. But can we not talk about it? I try not to think about it. Bad memories and all.”

Nia nods. “Right, sorry. Should’ve figured you wouldn’t wanna talk about something like that.”

Rex detaches his helmet from the back of his salvager suit and sets it on the bed beside him, flopping backwards onto the not-so-soft bed beside him. “I was thinking about going out and salvaging tonight.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. We need money, right? And I can definitely get myself onto a guild ship free, but it’ll be a bit tougher to get the rest of you out on my discount. I’m going to try, but some of the Nopon around here can be pretty particular about price, so it might not work out.”

“I still can’t believe you sent almost all of the money from Torna to someone else.”

“Well, Auntie Corrinne and the kids need it more than I could, like I said. Also like I said, I wasn’t expecting to need it. Not like the cost of living has been very high for me or anythin’.”

“Yeah, but still. Usually you’d at least expect someone your age to spend it all on themselves, or somethin’.”

“Eh,” Rex shrugs, “I’m not like the usual guys my age, I’m pretty sure. Besides, what would I even do with that much money?”

“I don’t know. Buy a lot of food or something. Get a really nice ship, or some new salvaging gear or something like that. Isn’t there anything you want?”

“Not that I could buy. The things I want aren’t like that.”

“What do you want, then?” Nia flops on her side to look across the room at him, ears flicking curiously.

“I already told you, didn’t I?” Rex doesn’t look at her. His eyes are stuck on the ceiling, on something Nia can’t see. “Peace, and security, and everything that comes with it. I want to help the people that have helped me, and live comfortably. That’s what I want.”

“You really are something else, kid.” Nia turns her gaze back to the ceiling. Maybe, if she looks up there for long enough, she can find the kind of future Rex is looking for up there.

Chapter Text

Rex looks out at the new Titan wistfully as their Titan ship finally approaches its destination. He’d spent most of the trip looking out over the cloud sea, having felt a bit more like being alone than anything else these past few days.

The night before they left, he’d had a long talk with Nia and gone to do some last-minute salvaging. The resulting haul had brought in more than enough cash to send them to Mor Ardain, even if he’d failed to get his free ticket for being a salvager. He’d even managed to save a few gold more by convincing the ticket-seller that since he was also a Driver, his Blades should ride free, too.

Now, they have maybe enough to stay an extra night in Mor Ardain if they really want to, and they’d have to spend at least one, because the next ship doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning.

The ship docks, and Rex joins his companions on the port, stretching his shoulders out.

He’d heard Mor Ardain’s Titan was hot and dying, but this is still entirely different from what he expected. It’s unbearably hot, unbearably dusty, and if not for the sheer force of the heat, he’d throw on his helmet and zip up his salvager suit to avoid the sand whipping around in the wind.

At least he’s not the only one suffering. Zenobia appears to have created a bubble of wind to protect and cool herself, but she hasn’t offered to extend them the same kindness. From the port, they have to traverse a bit of land to reach the elevator to Alba Cavanich. The land between is even dustier, crawling with hostile, poisonous wildlife, and the only green he can see anywhere is Zenobia.

The wind doesn’t even feel like a nice breeze. It just brings more heat with it and more grainy sand to boot. Within a minute the whole party is soaked with sweat, most of all Nia, who shrugs off the upper part of her jumpsuit and drapes some cloth around her shoulders instead. She even goes so far as to remove her gloves, tucking them under her belt.

Rex glances back at her in amusement. “What was the point of pulling part of your jumpsuit off if you were just going to cover back up with a cloak?” he asks, laughing.

She rolls her eyes. “It’s called air circulation, genius. It creates better ventilation. And when you get a sunburn, don’t come cryin’ to me to heal it.”

“Oh, come on, I didn’t even think about that! Don’t be mean about it,” he whines.

“Nope, you could have gotten some help with it later if you hadn’t poked fun at me for taking the proper precautions. Too late now.”

“But Nia,” he says, dragging out the ‘a’ sound, “I didn’t mean to make fun of you.”

“Nope, too late. Think before you speak, kid.”

He groans. “I really didn’t mean it like that, though…”

Nia smirks smugly at him. “You’re way too gullible, you know that?”

He turns his nose up at her. “It’s rude to make fun of people like that! I could stop taking you seriously, you know.”

“Like you would. If you stop taking me seriously, I might stop taking healing you seriously.”

“Oh come on, you’re really going to hold healing me over my head?”

She grants him a toothy grin. “Just don’t get hurt and it won’t be a problem, yeah?”

“Easier said than done. I’m not quite as experienced as you, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” she fires back. “Incentive to improve and practice more.”

“I can’t believe you sometimes,” he groans, throwing his arms up in exasperation, “honest.”

They come up on the elevator to Alba Cavanich, continuing to throw playful jabs at each other (though Nia’s are much sharper, more pointed) even as they step on the elevator.

“Man, you two are really screwing around today, huh,” Malos comments, sounding perhaps a bit less angry than Rex would normally expect.

“Oi, I’m not screwing around,” Nia insists. “Besides, I’m allowed to have some fun once in a while, aren’t I?”

Malos doesn’t reply, staring forward. Nia glares playfully at his back as the elevator comes to a stop at the top.

“You know,” Nia says, stopping short of the group. “It’s just occurred to me that I’m definitely not supposed to be here.”

“What d’you mean, Nia?” Rex asks.

She leans in and hisses. “Wanted posters mean much to you?”

“Oh, right. That’s probably worse here than in Gormott, huh.”

“It also probably includes you, too. Remember what happened in Gormott? They’ve almost definitely dragged you into it, too. We need a plan.”

“Like what?”

Nia looks over their group for a long moment, crossing her arms underneath her makeshift cloak. “Tora, you’re wanting to be more reliable, right?” she says suddenly.

Tora snaps to attention, nodding enthusiastically. “Of course! Whatever friend need, Tora can do!”

“Great. I need you to take Poppi into town and find me something I can use as pins. I’ll need… hm, probably three of them. Poppi, you hold the money until Tora needs it to buy the pins.”

Nia glances back at Rex. “Give me the money you got from salvaging yesterday.”

He reaches for the bag clipped to his waist. “All of it?”

“Just a thousand gold or so.”

He nods, shuffling through his bag and producing a thousand. There’s not much left after that, but…

Nia takes the money and hands half over to Poppi. The other half, she pockets.

“Wait, what’re you taking half the money for?” Rex objects.

She glances back at him. “I’m heading into town, too. There’s something else I need to get while Tora and Poppi shop for this plan to work.”

“Why you, though? What are the rest of us going to be doing?”

Zenobia nods her agreement. “I wanna come along and do something, too.”

“Okay, fine, but Malos and Rex should stay behind.”

“What?” Rex frowns. “But I don’t want to just do nothing while you do whatever—”

“No buts,” she insists. “Dromarch is also staying behind.”

“What for, my Lady?” Dromarch asks, ears flicking as he glances up at her.

“Because,” she says, placing a hand on her hip, “all three of you stand out too much. I have a disguise. I’m going to cloak the three of you, but I need the stuff to do it, so keep quiet and hang around here for a bit.”

Given no other option, Rex relents, leaving Nia, Zenobia, Tora, and Poppi to disperse into the main city.

~

“You know, if I were any of these people, I’d probably think you were my Blade,” Nia comments as Zenobia excitedly moves about the city.

Alba Cavanich proper is significantly cooler than the area outside the city. It’s still uncomfortable, and far too hot, especially with the amount of people pressing around the city streets, but at least there’s no sand in Nia’s eyes or sunlight reflecting into them. It’s comparatively livable, answering for her the question of how in Alrest anyone still lives here.

Tora and Poppi head off to a shop which appears to have various bits of jewelry, and with Poppi’s help, it seems like Tora doesn’t even try to buy sausages from the food stall first. Nia watches proudly as they peruse the wares looking for the pins they need, then turns back to her own goal in town.

“I wouldn’t complain,” Zenobia replies. “Not that I don’t like my Driver! Rex is great, and it’s not like I’d willingly abandon him just to be your Blade. But you’re pretty cool, too.”

Nia smiles back at her and runs her bare hand over a bolt of cloth. “Thanks for saying so. I do try my best to be cool.” It’s a joke, of course it is. Why try at something like that?

“Don’t lie, there’s no way you do.” Zenobia snorts. “You’re not that kind of person. You’re just like, naturally pretty cool to be around.”

“Regardless, I think the same of you. You can be pretty hyperactive and punchy, but with a Driver like him, that’s not really a bad thing. I think you do a lot to balance out Rex and Malos’s little act there.”

Zenobia sighs. “I try. I forced them to talk together after everything that happened at Olethro, and they do seem a bit closer now, but still. It’s really frustrated having to third wheel their little awkward tango thing when they just need to make an honest attempt to understand each other.”

Nia picks up a certain bolt of cloth, but winces at the price tag, and puts it back neatly, smoothing her hands out over the folds to neaten its placement. “Well, yeah. I can see how that’d be pretty annoying. They haven’t gotten along since the beginning. Or, a little after, I guess.”

“A little after?”

She nods, continuing to look through the wares for the perfect disguise cloth. “Yeah. I wouldn’t say they got along great before Rex figured out how good Malos is at killing things and got freaked out, but by comparison, well, it was less awkward, that’s for sure. A lot less awkward.”

“So they didn’t have any issues until Rex got freaked out by Malos’s powers.”

“Right. Like, obviously there was the personality clash because Malos isn’t exactly sociable, but they were still doing pretty alright at getting along with each other, I think. That first fight they had together went pretty well, especially for a brand new Driver who only just came back to life.”

“If I had to guess, at that point they were probably more in sync because they had just shared core crystals, right?”

“Yeah.” She picks up the bolts of cloth she’d decided on and brings them over to the shop keep. “These ones, please.”

The man nods. “That’ll be four hundred eighty.”

“Not a problem, here you go.” She counts out the money to him, and he counts it back, nodding approvingly.

“Thanks for your business! You two ladies have a great day now.”

“Thanks, you too,” Nia mumbles. Zenobia waves over her shoulder as they move to go regroup with Malos, Rex, Azurda, Dromarch, Tora, and Poppi.

They find the group that stayed behind exactly where they’d left them, milling about in the area near the elevators and mostly trying to keep their heads down. Malos, however, is not, simply leaning against the wall and surveying people carefully.

Tora and Poppi aren’t back quite yet, but they soon rejoin Nia and the others carrying no less than three decorative pins.

“Those are perfect, Tora, thanks for the help.”

“Tora not sure about style, but Poppi and shop lady assure Tora that they finest quality and all the rage with littlepons!”

Nia smiles, taking them from him. “Poppi, you can give any leftover money back to Rex.” As Nia speaks, she does the same, handing over the last 20 gold she had leftover. She passes off the first two of three bolts of fabric over to Zenobia, who carries them dutifully, and walks right up to Malos. “Okay, big guy, off the wall.”

“What is this even supposed to do?”

“Well, for one, we need to cover up your core crystal,” she explains. “It’s way too obviously different from a regular Blade’s.”

He sighs and stands off the wall, allowing Nia to drape the cloth around his shoulders. She holds a pin between her teeth and pulls it out to hold the cloth in place. It looks a bit short for him, she notes as she steps back to admire her patchy handiwork, but it covers up his core crystal fine, so he just looks like a particularly tall, muscular man.

With Malos cloaked, Nia turns her attention to Rex, who’s finished getting the change back from Poppi and is watching Nia work curiously. “Zenobia, fabric.”

Zenobia nods obediently and hands the blue bolt of cloth over.

“Alright, Rex, detach that helmet for a minute.”

He does so, and Azurda flutters out to land on Nia’s shoulder while she works.

Nia carefully positions the cloth over Rex’s shoulders, fussing with it for several moments in an attempt to get it to cover his relatively low-positioned half of Malos’s core crystal. After a full minute of trying and failing to cover it, she gives up and pins it around his shoulders anyway. “I give up. Rex, you’re Malos’s Blade now.”

He blinks. “I’m what?”

“You heard me. Hand your sword over to Malos.”

“Wait, why am I—”

“They’re probably looking for a dark-elemental Blade with a muscular appearance who’s tall, following a young kid who’s his Driver. They won’t be looking for a tall Driver and his Blades, a water-element Blade and a wind-Element Blade. Easy enough.”

“Wait, I’m Malos’s Blade now, too?” Zenobia blinks.

Nia nods. “Well, yeah. Normal Blades don’t have Blades of their own.”

“Good point.” Zenobia grins, eyes sliding over to Malos mischievously as she sings, “look forward to working with me, Driver.”

“Not likely,” he replies coldly.

Zenobia only laughs, preparing a playful retort, when she’s cut off by Nia taking the last bolt of cloth and wrestling her into an outfit of drapery. Zenobia wriggles out of Nia’s attempts, giving her an offended look. “What? Why do I get one, too?”

Nia rolls her eyes, barely managing to get the cloth around Zenobia’s back and yank her closer. “I swear, you lot are always complaining. It fits with the theme, and all that. Just hold still, I won’t make it too restrictive.”

Zenobia crosses her arms, trying hard not to squirm out of Nia’s grasp as she carefully pins the cloak in place. The moment Nia has the pin set, Zenobia zips a decent distance away from her. “Are you happy now?”

“Very, thank you. Don’t fidget with it. Now then, Rex, Zenobia, you’re Malos’s Blades now. Try and act like it.”

All three nod in response.

“Now that that’s out of the way, we can head into the city proper this time.”

“Oh! Tora know where friends can go!” Tora says excitedly, waving his hand in the air.

“Do you?” Malos says, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes! Tora run into friend when shopping for clips. Muimui say Tora and friends should come speak to him in city!”

“Really?” Nia raises her eyebrows this time, placing a hand on her hip. “How d’you know him?”

“Muimui work with Grampypon and Dadapon when Tora was just a littlepon. Tora not remember Muimui very well, probably because he not very interesting. But helped make ether furnace of Poppi!”

“Really?” Rex says. “Sounds like an interesting guy to me. Alright, I’m fine with going to meet him.”

“No objections here.”

“I will follow whatever decision you make.”

With no objections raised to Tora’s suggestion, Tora leads the charge back into Alba Cavanich and to a little café area, where a green Nopon waves Tora over.

Dromarch suddenly takes Nia’s hand into his teeth unexpectedly, tugging at her arm and giving her two soft bites.

Two bites, she notes silently. They’re being followed.

Nia glances down at him out of the corner of her eye, and Dromarch responds by darting his eyes off to the right. She carefully follows his gaze from underneath her hood.

Sure enough, there’s a Nopon not-so-subtly watching their group. As the group reaches Muimui, the strange Nopon following them rounds the corner and finds a seat facing them at a nearby table. When Nia glances at him again, he pointedly looks down at a book in his hands, pretending to read.

Nia nods back to Dromarch, dropping her voice low. “Keep an eye on him. He doesn’t seem to be doing anything yet, but we can’t be too trusting here.”

Dromarch nods. “Of course, my lady. Leave it to me.”

“What are you two whispering about back there?” Zenobia says, grinning and leaning back. “Something secret?”

“Nothing to worry about for now.” Nia straightens her posture, putting on a reassuring expression for the curious Zenobia.

Zenobia doesn’t look even remotely convinced, and makes sure to express this wordlessly, giving Nia a very unimpressed look.

“I’ll let you guys know what it is if it seems like it’ll be a problem, alright?” Nia finally says.

“Rest assured that if anything were to affect you, we would inform you of it right away,” Dromarch adds.

Zenobia raises an eyebrow, hand on her hip, but shrugs it off. “Alright, fine. You don’t want to tell me, you don’t need to tell me. I’m sure I’ll find out eventually, anyway.”

“Anyways, sorry about all that.” Nia turns to the Nopon Tora’s talking to. “Muimui, right? Good to meet you.”

“Yes, it very good to meet friends of Tora! Muimui know Tora when he was just a littlepon. Tora so very big now!”

Tora preens in response, smiling proudly. “Yes, Tora eat plenty of tasty sausage for grow big and strong!”

“And artificial Blade such big accomplishment! Muimui not believe Tora complete such big project on his own!” Muimui says, looking over Poppi with a very impressed look on his face.

Poppi, too, looks very proud of her accomplishment of existing, placing both hands on her hips. “Yes, Poppi very impressive accomplishment of Masterpon. Have many useful functions! Poppi even collecting data to predict weather.”

“Weather prediction very finicky field!” Muimui says.

Poppi nods. “Poppi not know much about weather of Mor Ardain. Last Titan where Poppi and friends were much less dry and much more humid than climate of Mor Ardain Titan.”

“That very interesting to note. Tora tell Muimui that friends come from Uraya last?”

Rex nods. “We got a bit shipwrecked and ended up there for a few days. It wasn’t so bad, but man, the transition from there to here is no joke.”

“Ahm, Tora actually have small question for Muimui, if that alright.”

“What is it?” Muimui asks.

“Does Muimui really not know anything about Grampypon or Dadapon?”

Muimui falls silent. Nia shares a glance with Rex, who’s just about as confused.

“Muimui really not know. After everything that happen, Muimui run as fast as legs carry him. Not see what happen to Tatazo or Soosoo.”

Tora visibly deflates at this answer. Even his hair goes a bit limp in reply. “Tora see. Tora not know what happen either. Tora think that maybe if Tora complete Poppi, Dadapon and Grampypon hear about it and come back, but…”

“Muimui not think that Soosoo or Tatazo survive. Men who attacked had many weapons. It not likely that they able to fight back against so many.”

Nia didn’t think it was possible to see Tora any sadder. The poor thing goes quiet, almost completely silent, and for a moment, Nia almost tries to make him feel better. Rex gets there first, however.

“Hey, come on, Tora, we’ll find them, won’t we? They can’t have just died. Surely you’d know if they were.”

“Meh… maybe Muimui right. Tora not sure how Dadapon or Grampypon could possibly survive…”

Nia wants to be realistic, but… “Listen, do you have any proof they’re dead? Did you see their bodies?”

“No, but…”

“Then how can you just give up on them?” she presses.

Tora looks up at her, a fiery glare in his otherwise vacant eyes. “Tora not giving up! Tora just not think that—”

“Trust your family, Tora. Until you know they’re dead, it’s safe to assume they’re out there somewhere.” She crouches a bit, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“If they alive, why did they not come find Tora? Tora could have worked together with them again, but… They never come back.”

“You don’t know what they’re going through right now, Tora,” Nia says. “Just because they’re alive doesn’t mean they knew where you were, or were able to get there. Just trust them.”

Man, Nia really hopes Tora’s family is actually alive somewhere. It would really suck to be wrong on this.

Still, Tora visibly looks a bit encouraged at this. “Friend right. Tora no can give up hope for find family. If Nia really think that Dadapon and Grampypon could be alive somewhere, then… then…”

“Masterpon…”

“Tora choose to believe in family and believe in friends! Because… that part of what make Nia and friends so cool!”

Nia chuckles. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but… Sure, if that works for you.”

“Tora and friends should stay in Jakolo Inn tonight!” Muimui says suddenly. “Muimui good friends with owner. If friends mention name, Muimui sure that friends get good discount on rooms.”

“Oh, really?” Zenobia says. “Well, I don’t think any of us can turn down the chance to save a few gold.”

“Yeah, that’d be really helpful, thanks, Muimui,” Rex says.

“It not problem. Jakolo and Muimui good friends. Jakolo ask Muimui to let any new friends know about inn. It bring in good business.”

For some time, they sit around with Muimui and eat a decent lunch, talking with and meeting Tora’s old friend. Dromarch keeps an eye on their stalker, who doesn’t do anything noteworthy. He simply orders some food and continues to keep an eye on their group. Overall, nothing very interesting happens. Eventually, Muimui has to leave them, saying something about meeting with his employer.

Having nothing else better to do, they make their way over to that Jakolo Inn Muimui was so insistent on, and sure enough, the lady behind the counter gives them two rooms free for a night once they bring up Muimui’s name.

Once they’re settled into their rooms, Nia checks in with Dromarch.

“He is still following us, my Lady,” he says in a hushed whisper. “He is waiting just outside of the inn, and appears to be watching the door closely.”

Nia nods. “I think at this point we better tell the others. You go get the guys, I’ll grab Zenobia and Poppi from the room.”

In minutes they’re all gathered in the girls’ room in the inn, with some concerned looks flitting about.

“What’s this about, Nia?” Rex asks, tilting his head. “Dromarch said it was important.”

“We’ve been followed since we entered Alba Cavanich,” she says, crossing her arms. “Dromarch pointed the guy out to me. When we were talking with Muimui, he sat at a table facing us and watched us the whole time. Didn’t leave until we came here, and now he’s watching the building from outside. Don’t know what he wants yet, but he definitely wants something from us.”

“Want me to deal with him?” Zenobia offers. “I could probably take the guy out in a minute. What’s he look like?”

“He’s a yellow Nopon wearing a brown suit and a hat. But do me a favor and don’t attack the guy. We don’t know what he’s looking for yet, and you can’t go causing problems in the city. We’re already wanted criminals.”

“Good point.” Zenobia frowns, crossing her arms with a pout.

“Do you think he knows it’s us, even with your clearly very effective disguises?” Rex says, sounding just a little sarcastic. Malos is having the exact wrong effect on him.

“I’ll ignore that remark,” Nia snarks back, not ignoring the remark. “If he knew we were who we are, I don’t think he’d just be watching us. I figure we’d already have gotten arrested if he did.”

“I don’t think we should just sit back until he does whatever it is he’s trying to do, though,” Malos says. “We should at least confront the thing.”

“He’s trying to be sneaky, though, however bad he is at it. He’ll probably deny it if we try to confront him.”

“So what, we wait around until he sends a whole unit of soldiers after our ass?”

“Sounds good to me,” Nia replies, rolling her eyes,. “But really, we’re not doing that. I say we take this time to prepare to fight whoever might come after us.”

“That’s probably for the best. It’s not like we can leave Mor Ardain yet anyway, since the next ship isn’t until tomorrow morning.” Rex says, shrugging. “So how do we want to do this?”

“Not sure. Probably best to just keep an eye out for whoever might be waiting around the corners to fight us, and keep our heads down around the soldiers.” She frowns. “But man, this is a predicament.”

“If only there were some way to clear our names…” Rex sighs. “But that’d be too easy. Not like we can just walk up to the Special Inquisitor and say, ‘hey, I’m sorry I cost the Gormott Province several thousand gold in water tower repairs, broke onto one of your ships, and broke out one of your high-profile prisoners. I’m also the Driver of the most powerful Blade that isn’t actively trying to destroy Alrest and won’t let you take him against his will, can I get a free pass?’”

Nia snorts with laughter. “Man, can you imagine if that would actually work? ‘Hey, Mòrag, I know you guys think I’m affiliated with a terrorist group, but I swear I’m better now. Can you please just ignore everything you know about me and let me run free?’ As if.”

“It would be nice if that were the case,” Azurda says, resting on one of the beds. “It’s quite unfortunate that we’ve collectively racked up such a reputation.”

“Well, I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Gramps,” Rex says. “You could probably just fly away and leave us to deal with our own problems.”

Azurda makes an offended noise, crossing his arms. “Absolutely not! I promised your Corrinne that I would keep a close eye on you, boy, and I’m not about to abandon you, especially when you’re so popular as of late.”

“’Popular’, right. I don’t think this is the kind of popularity I need, if I’m being honest.”

“You can say that again,” Zenobia says, leaning across his shoulders. “I’m having fun with all the fights, but now we’re getting followed, too, and I’m really not into this disguise thing.” As if to punctuate her sentence, Zenobia tugs at the cloth clipped around her body. “I hate having to be all covered up. It’s so… stifling.”

“I think that everyone else is a lot more comfortable like this, though,” Nia teases, “Last time you draped yourself across Rex like that he looked like he was about to explode.”

Zenobia blinks. “Did he?” She glances back down at Rex. “Are you uncomfortable with this or something?”

Rex looks a bit like he’s choking, but with significant less red to his face than before. “I-I mean, it’s just a bit…”

Zenobia jumps back like she’s touched a hot stove. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, dude, I’m just touchy.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad but you’re not wearing a lot of clothes ever so it’s just a bit…” Rex hides his face in his hands, a blush crawling to his ears. “You’re just… really… feminine…”

She rubs the back of her neck. “Sorry, dude. I’ve never been good at picking up on that kind of stuff. In the future, can you just tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable somehow?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” he mumbles.

“Tell you what.” Nia places a hand on her hip, smirking at the exchange. “If I notice that Rex looks like he’s dying because of something you’re doing, Zenobia, I’ll let you know, alright?”

Zenobia frowns. “Yeah, that’ll help. I’ll try to get better at reading people too, though. I hate making people uncomfortable like that.”

“D-don’t worry, Zenobia, I know you weren’t trying to,” Rex says.

“So what do we do now?” Malos asks. “Just wait around tonight?”

“Well, I was wanting to go out to eat,” Zenobia says, stretching languidly. “I’m kinda hungry and I wanna see what this place is like before we move on.”

“I’m fine with that,” Rex says, “we probably have the cash for it.”

“Be careful with that money, though,” Nia says. “We’ve got a bit of travelling to do yet and we’ve got to make it last as long as we can.”

“I know, I know. I can do some more salvaging tonight before we leave to make some extra gold to sustain us with, yeah?”

“Man, where was that salvaging skill of yours back in Uraya?”

Rex blinks. “How am I going to salvage off the inside of a Titan?”

Nia blinks back. “Oh. That’s a fair point, there.” Not willing to admit her lack of thought in that question, Nia shrugs. “Alright, let’s all go out to dinner, then. Get a nice big meal so the trip to Indol won’t be quite so bad tomorrow.”

With everyone in agreement, the group exits the inn, disguises well-pinned in place. Nia takes a peek and, sure enough, the Nopon from before begins to follow them as they head into the city.

“Halt!” comes from behind them suddenly, but if Nia’s not mistaken, that’s not the kind of voice their furry little follower would have. Hands reaching for the rings on her belt, Nia turns her head over her shoulder. “Yes, you! All three of you Drivers, stop. We need to look into that Blade there.”

The soldier who’s speaking marches right past Nia, right past Rex and Malos and Zenobia and Dromarch, to size up Poppi, who stands there curiously.

“Mighty fine Blade you got there. Artificial, is she?” he asks, glancing down at Tora, who is standing close to her protectively.

Tora nods. “Yes. Tora build Poppi by self.”

Nia’s eyes dart around the area as a sizable amount of additional soldiers join them, cutting off any potential for escape. Well, unless you’re Zenobia and can fly. Might not be a good idea to try to fly out of this one, though, not with how many of these soldiers are brandishing guns.

Four Drivers in the lot, five regular soldiers. Nia leans over to Rex, hissing under her breath. “Be ready to fight.”

Rex nods. “You guys don’t have to tell me that every time, you know,” he whispers back.

“Right. Well, this ‘artificial Blade’ of yours… Are you aware of just how much trouble she’s been causing around here?”

There’s a beat where everyone processes the statement. ‘Poppi’ and ‘trouble’ don’t connect in Nia’s mind, least of all because Poppi’s been within sight since they got here, and not done a single thing worth calling ‘trouble’.

“That not true!” Poppi says. “Poppi not cause trouble for anyone! Poppi always follow masterpon’s orders exactly.”

Nia’s sure the man glares at her, though she can’t see his face underneath his helmet. “Oh, so you were following his orders, yeah?” The soldier nods to Tora. “You should’ve programmed her to be a bit less obvious.”

“Tora… not sure what friends talking about. Poppi not do anything in Mor Ardain that cause problems!”

“Likely story. Listen, we can confiscate your robot here, or you can hand her over. With all the shit she’s put us through, she’ll need to be dismantled. We can make this easy, or we can make this hard.”

Tora grabs Poppi’s hand with a glare. “Friends absolutely never dismantle Poppi! Tora work very hard to build Poppi and Poppi do nothing to deserve it!”

Nia immediately grabs the rings at her waist. “They’re not going to like that. But still, you lot definitely have the wrong people here. We just got to Mor Ardain—”

“Shut up, you!” one of the soldiers interrupts her. “You want to get arrested, too?”

She glares back. “Try me, I dare you.”

“Nia, do you really want to be antagonizing them?” Malos calls over his shoulder, though he’s drawn his sword already in preparation.

“Well, aren’t you Mister Level-headed out of nowhere,” she snarks back.

Malos lets out an aggravated sigh, but the problem is still very much at hand.

“Tora, what do you want to do here?” Rex asks. “We’ll fight it if you will.”

Tora glares at the man, producing his weapon from his back. “Tora will never give up Poppi!”

Nia smirks. “Alright then. I’m down. What’ve we got to lose, here?” She pauses. “Don’t answer that.”

“And just what is going on here?”

Before anyone can move, a certain familiar someone parts the wall of soldiers, accompanied by her very high-temperature Blade. Special Inquisitor Mòrag parts them, looking over the situation with what looks to Nia very much like a contemptuous glare.

“And just what are you lot trying to do here?” she asks. Nia likes to imagine Brighid is glaring as well, though with her ever-closed eyes, it’s hard to tell.

“Us?” Rex asks, looking justly offended. “We haven’t done anything!”

Nia crosses her arms. “We were literally just walking to go eat some dinner when your men decided to surround us, claimin’ that Poppi has been causing all kinds of trouble when we’ve only been in Mor Ardain a few hours.”

Mòrag raises an eyebrow. “As much as I don’t want to believe you, she doesn’t fit the description of the artificial Blade we’ve been seeing around here. Do you have any proof that you only arrived recently?”

Nia glances at the others, frowning. They sure don’t, now do they?

“Please wait, friends,” says a certain familiar stalker, pushing his way into the fray. “Niranira has been following group since arrival in Mor Ardain as part of audit of Argentum trade guild. Niranira can confirm that friends only just arrive in Mor Ardain, and artificial Blade not cause any problems since arrival.”

Mòrag frowns. “Well then, I must apologize for assuming otherwise. It’s true that this… Poppi doesn’t fit the description of the Blade that’s been causing problems around here. You men, disperse. I will handle these Drivers and their Blades myself.”

The soldiers disperse, and the pedestrians all turn back to what they were doing. After Niranira produces more than enough evidence to disprove their being the culprits, he, too, disperses, leaving Rex, Nia, Dromarch, Gramps, Malos, Tora and Poppi to speak with Mòrag and Brighid.

“You said you were about to go get dinner, correct?” Mòrag says, hands folded primly behind her back.

Rex nods. “Yeah.”

“As an apology for what’s occurred today, please come with me back to the palace. We can provide for you a dinner far better than anything you may purchase here, as a partial compensation for the inconvenience.”

Nia’s ears raise up, and she tries her best not to raise her hackles too obviously. “I don’t buy it. You already used me to draw them out once before after arresting me, and you want all of us to just come to the palace with you after your men falsely accused us?”

“I admit, we do not have a very happy past together, any of us, but I would like to properly, formally apologize for what has happened.” Mòrag bows her head just slightly.

“Tora demand LIFETIME of tasty sausages for compensation! Scary men try to dismantle Poppi!”

“Life of Poppi almost end of as a result of poor manners. Poppi not very happy with treatment.” Poppi gives Mòrag the most guilt-inducing frown Nia’s ever seen, but Mòrag only smiles I reply.

“Alright then. For you two, dinner will suffice. Nia and Rex, may I offer you core crystals as an apology, since you are both Drivers?”

Nia frowns, glancing at her companions. “I really don’t like this.”

“Hey, I think she’s being serious though. I think we should go with her” Rex says.

Zenobia nods her agreement. “What’s the worst that could happen? They capture us, I beat the snot out of them, and Malos takes the entire Titan down with him. They wouldn’t be that dumb, right?”

Nia sighs. “If everyone else is fine with it, I guess I am too. But I don’t trust you in the slightest,” she’s quick to clarify, sending a glare Mòrag’s way.

“That’s a fair assumption to make. Come with me back to the Hardhaigh palace and I will do my best to offer recompence to every one of you.”

~

Hardhaigh palace is about as nice as Nia would expect, which is to say, dusty like everything in Mor Ardain and incredibly uncomfortable for a known terrorist and Flesh Eater avoiding capture by the very people who within. (Okay, perhaps they’re not the direct antagonists to her Flesh Eater status, but they sure are complicit.)

Mòrag takes them to a room to wait in, leaving Brighid to watch them while she goes and speaks to someone Nia’s not sure about. When Mòrag returns, she’s accompanied by a chef, who goes straight to Tora and begins asking him about his preferences in sausage. Mòrag approaches Rex and Nia, the latter of whom eyes her dangerously.

“You can lower your guard a bit, you know. I have no desire to arrest any of you,” Mòrag says, almost amused. Is this a game to her!?

“Like I believe—”

“I’m trying to establish a good rapport here, so could you please listen?” Mòrag says.

“If you’ll stop interrupting me.” Nia crosses her arms across her chest.

“That can be arranged,” Mòrag answers. “Now then, if you’ll accept it, I have chosen a core crystal as a gift for each of you.”

Mòrag places one before Nia, the other before Rex, and looks at them expectantly.

Nia frowns. “I’m going to talk to Dromarch about it first, I think.”

Rex nods after a moment. “Yeah, I think I’m going to talk to my Blades, too.”

“You two place quite a lot of trust in your Blades,” Mòrag comments. “I can respect that in any Driver.”

Nia shrugs, glancing over at Dromarch. “I’ve been with Dromarch for a while now. And I’m not just going to bring another Blade into the relationship without taking his opinion into account.”

Dromarch looks up at Nia. “I have no qualms if you wish to awaken another Blade, my lady, but first consider whether you want to share certain things with them.”

Right. New Blade means another person who will definitely have to know her secret, lest she not be able to link properly with them. “Good point.”

“If you think you can, though, I think it would be useful to have another Blade in your arsenal.”

Nia sighs. She’s not against the idea, and maybe Mòrag is making a good faith effort to apologize…

After a long moment of staring at the core crystal, Nia realizes that maybe accepting the core crystal would be a brilliant move of spite, and Architect, does that motivate her. And after her talks with Cole, she does want to be more open, so…

Maybe this is just the step in the right direction she needs to take.

Nia cautiously removes her right glove, flexing her bare hand in the palace air. “Yeah, I think I’ll accept it. Thanks, Mòrag.” She has to force it out, but she still has some manners, thank you.

Mòrag nods. Rex is still convening with Malos and Zenobia about his decision. Malos looks predictably neutral, and Zenobia is positive, but…

Rex looks absolutely conflicted. Whatever advice he’s getting, he doesn’t know one way or the other, based on the look on his face. He frowns, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.

Nia glances back at the core crystal she’s been given, placing her removed glove beside it and crossing the room to Rex.

“Rex, what are you thinking about doing?” she asks.

He frowns. “I don’t know! Malos doesn’t care much, Zenobia says she’s cool with it, and I just…” He throws his arms up in frustration. “I don’t know! I left Roc back in Garfont, only to immediately take another Blade? Can I even handle having a third Blade? I hardly even know anything about being a Driver!”

“Wow, you are pretty stressed out about this, aren’t you?” Nia frowns down at him. “Let me ask you a question, then.”

He looks up at her pathetically.

“Do you want another Blade?”

He frowns. “I already told you, I don’t know!”

“But you do, right? I’m not asking whether you think you can handle it or what your other Blades think. I just want to know whether you want one. And I think that deep down, you know at least that much.”

He nods. “I think it’d be cool to have another Blade around and get to know them. I’m not as good of a Driver as I could be, but still, I want to be able to use different Blades well and trust them like they trust me.”

She smiles. “Then I’d take it. Neither of your Blades are against it, and you can always grow as a Driver. But only take it if you want it. You can’t go back on it, after all. Once he’s awake, he’s awake for life.”

“Right. Thanks, Nia.” Rex reaches up and removes one of his own gloves, nodding at Mòrag. “I’ll accept it, too. Thanks.”

Mòrag nods, tipping her hat slightly. “The least I could do. I actually have a bit of a favor to ask of you once you’ve awakened your new allies.”

Malos raises an eyebrow. “What kind of a favor?”

“It regards the issue my men attempted to arrest you over. But first, please, feel free to go ahead and awaken your new Blades. I’d hate for them to be completely out of the loop.”

Nia shrugs and meanders back around the table to the core crystal placed next to her removed glove, taking a deep breath to clear her mind.

For some reason, when she closes her eyes, memories flood in. Early memories. The earliest she can remember, even. Waking up in a nice house, the light fading around her to see the face of her Driver.

Fast forward. Sister’s dead. She’s a fresh Flesh Eater after all that’s happened and she’s not scared at all, not even a bit. She misses her sister but there’s nothing else they can do about it now.

She’s scared of who she’s become but she can still move forward. Just as long as she has her Driver. Her dad.

Fast forward. Da’s dead. She’s alone. There’s no one in the world who will accept her now.

Her dad had a core crystal stored away for some reason. She’d picked it up, curious and scared and wishing desperately to not be alone.

It exploded into light, and then she wasn’t alone anymore.

Fast forward. Dromarch had been a blessing to her life. When she had to run, when they tried to hunt her, she didn’t have to run alone, and they’d relied on each other constantly.

Present. You’re in the here and now. Nia’s fingertips graze the core crystal ahead of her, and for a moment, she thinks that’s enough, until she realizes it’s coming from the core crystal Rex is awakening.

With another deep breath, she closes her hand properly around the core crystal. Maybe she could use another blessing by her side.

Chapter Text

If the light from one Blade awakening is blinding, the light from two awakening concurrently is searing hot and icy cold all at the same time, like touching flames in a snowy hillside. Rex squeezes his eyes shut at the sensation and the light, waiting until his eyes don’t hurt quite so much to re-open them.

Ah, so that explains the snowy feeling, Rex thinks, looking at the two beings standing before him. It takes him a long moment to process what he’s seeing. “Wait, I’m sorry, a bear?”

“Oh, um, this is Beary,” mumbles the child sitting on the bear’s shoulders.

Beary is a pure white bear, standing on his hind legs and looking around the room in confusion. Beary (he? Is Beary a he?) seems docile, calm, though Rex doesn’t know how it’s possible he exists.

On Beary’s shoulders sits a small girl, maybe Kazuna’s age, if Rex had to guess (though Blades don’t really have ages the way people do), wearing a big, fluffy, white cloak. A blue dress and bare feet that are almost intangible peek out from underneath the cloak, and she sports pale blue hair that’s woven with huge, ethereal white flowers the likes of which Rex has never seen before.

Rex is at a loss for words, testing the feel of the knuckle claws in his hands as he looks the two over. “I didn’t know two things could come from the same core crystal if I’m bein’ honest. Does… does Beary talk?”

She shakes her head, wrapping both arms around Beary’s neck and bearying her face in the back of his head. “I hope that won’t be a problem!” she mumbles just clearly enough to be heard. Her voice is gentle and wavering. “He talks to me, but I don’t think anyone else can understand him.”

“And what’s your name?” Rex asks.

Pale blue eyes peek out from behind Beary’s head. “My name’s Ursula.”

Rex gives her a reassuring smile, instantly assuming the kind of posture he’s used to taking with small children, even though at her current height, she’s far above eye level. “It’s nice to meet you, Ursula. I’m Rex, your Driver.”

“I-it’s nice to meet you. I don’t like to fight much, but I’m a great healer!” she says quietly, forcing Rex to lean closer to hear her voice. “…probably.”

Zenobia lets out a loud gasp. “What? What do you mean you don’t like to fight? You’re a Blade. You might be small and sweet but fighting is what we do!”

Ursula shrinks back from Zenobia’s voice, letting out the tiniest eep! in response. “I’m sorry, I just don’t enjoy violence very much!”

Zenobia frowns, letting out a sigh. “We’ll work on it. You’re an ice elemental type, right?”

Ursula gives a tiny, silent nod, just barely moving her head away from the protection Beary gives her.

“Then this’ll be fun! I’m Zenobia, Rex’s second Blade. I use wind ether, so maybe we can help each other build up resistance sometime!”

“Build up resistance…? You mean like, purposely expose ourselves to our weaknesses? Wouldn’t that be really unpleasant?”

Zenobia nods enthusiastically, giving Ursula a particularly toothy grin. “Better now than later, right? And it’ll help Rex out, too. We’ll give it a shot and see if you’re willing to keep going with it, okay?”

“I-I guess that’s fine…”

“Oh!” Zenobia’s eyes light up suddenly. “That big, scary looking guy back there? That’s Malos. He’s Rex’s first Blade, so you’ll be getting to know him better, too. I bet you’re scared of him, right?”

Ursula gives the tiniest nod, and Beary takes a step back, away from the lurking Malos.

Zenobia laughs. “But don’t worry about him. He looks super scary and strong, but he’s actually a bit of a coward. There is nothing but talk behind those muscles, even if people think he’s some all-powerful Aegi—”

“That’s enough,” Malos says irritably.

She glares back playfully. “What, you don’t like it when I call you a coward? Maybe if you’d fight me for once, you could prove me wrong. But, you’re too scared to do that because you think I’ll push you to your limit, huh?” She shrugs. “Well, no recompense to be had there. I don’t have to say it to know you refuse to fight me because you’re scared to lose.”

“You’ll get your fight when you can shut up about it for just one day.” Malos’s voice has dropped dangerously low, and Rex watches as Zenobia visibly freezes for a moment. Instead of a scared expression on her face, she looks absolutely delighted, though, and Rex briefly wonders which one of them is making the bigger mistake.

“It’s a deal! Absolutely! Shutting up about it for one day, starting right now!”

Malos pinches the bridge of his nose. “What did I just get myself into?”

Rex grins. “You know, she’ll probably lay off a bit once you actually fight her.”

“No, she won’t, she’ll just want to fight all the time. She’s insatiable.”

Ursula climbs down from Beary’s shoulder, hitting the ground with a soft noise. “Where, um, where are we?”

“Ah, yeah, we’re in Hardhaigh palace in Mor Ardain. Let me introduce you to my friends; we’ll be travelling with them from here on out.”

Ursula’s eyes scan the room curiously as she hugs Beary’s arm to her chest. Rex privately thinks that she might not look so tiny if she wasn’t right next to Beary. “Are all of these people your friends?” she asks, eyes stopping on Nia and who appears to be her new Blade.

He nods. “For the most part, yeah. The Gormotti girl’s name is Nia, and the white Blade next to her is Dromarch. I haven’t met her other Blade yet, or I’d tell you her name, too. They’re doing their own introductions right now, though, so why don’t I introduce you to Tora and Poppi first?”

Ursula nods gently, so Rex leads the way to where Tora and Poppi are sitting. The first plate of sausages of many sits before Tora as Poppi watches, impressed.

“Tora? Poppi?” Rex says. “Got a new Blade I’d like you to meet.”

~

Meanwhile...

The intense sensation of flame licks Nia’s uncharacteristically bare arms as the light of two concurrent awakenings fills the room. As someone aligned with water, it’s more unpleasant than it probably should be, and Nia winces as the flames crawl higher, before they suddenly retreat into the core crystal in her hand.

Nia thinks for a moment that perhaps the core crystal somehow rejected her when the light fades and the core crystal in her hands hasn’t formed into a weapon. At least, until she opens her eyes and realizes that it’s no longer a core crystal, but a ball, and that standing before her is a girl about her height with perhaps the most interesting look Nia’s ever seen.

Her hair is white, streaked with dark brown, and she appears to have small, thin horns sprouting from her crown. She wears clothes made mostly of a mostly white fabric with red trim, accessorized by quite a lot of things that honestly, Nia’s not particularly sure she can describe. A belt made of large brown balls around her waist, a huge red bow in the back decorated with stylized flames, and boots that look to be somehow technological, to name just a few of the things she has going on.

The Blade before her flashes a sharp-toothed grin, and for a moment, she’s almost afraid that they’ve got another Zenobia in their arsenal. Then, she opens her mouth to speak. “I’m Crossette! It’s nice to meet you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

Nia blinks. She’s already clearly excitable, but Nia’s eyes are more stuck on the fact that Crossette’s horns are sparking small flames that, luckily, don’t catch on to anything flammable.

Crossette crosses the room to her, grabbing Nia’s free hand in both of hers. “You’re my Driver, right?”

Nia nods. “Yeah, um, it’s nice to meet you, Crossette. I’m Nia, and this is my other Blade, Dromarch.” She gestures to Dromarch at her side, who is surveying Crossette carefully.

“Oh, I’m so excited to have a Driver who already has another Blade! New Drivers are cool and all, but you already know things about being a Driver, right? What’s Dromarch good at? Oh, I should ask Dromarch, huh.” Crossette grins, turning to Dromarch. “It’s great to meet you! We’ll be working together pretty closely, so I hope we can get along! What’s your specialty? I can’t even tell your element just by looking!”

Dromarch’s ears flick as he searches for the words to respond. “I am a water user, Miss Crossette, and a healer.”

Crossette lets out an excited gasp. “You’re a healer, too? Me too, me too!”

Nia smiles. “You should maybe take a moment to breathe, Crossette. You’re sparking.”

Crossette drops Nia’s hand, reaching both gloved hands to her horns. “Ack! Sorry, sorry, I’ll be careful!” She looks around the room, having finally taken a moment to breathe, and Nia follows her eyes, noting that Rex appears to have somehow awakened a literal bear, and a child who sits on the bear’s shoulder like that’s the safest place in the room. “Are these your friends?”

Nia nods. “Yeah. Rex over there just awakened a new Blade, too, so let’s give them some time to meet each other before I introduce you, yeah?”

Mòrag approaches with a smile. “We happen to have some records of where Crossette came from, if you are interested.”

Nia tilts her head curiously, but Crossette gets so excited she starts sparking again. “Really? You have information about me?”

Mòrag nods in amusement. “It’s not much, but we do have a journal that was found near your core crystal and your past Driver’s… body.”

Crossette immediately stops sparking. “Oh, I didn’t think about that. My old Driver’s dead, huh?”

Nia nods solemnly.

“Do you think I liked him?” Crossette asks. “I mean, obviously there’s no way for me to remember anything about my old Driver or maybe even Drivers but it’s sad, right? Someone important to me died and I can’t remember them.”

Crossette’s words send a pang through Nia’s heart. She turns to Mòrag. “Is it possible to see that journal?”

Mòrag nods. “I always intended to send it along with the core crystal.” She produces the journal in question from her bag, handing it over to Nia.

It’s just a simple, leather-bound journal with yellowed pages. Nia hands it over to Crossette before even considering reading the pages within. “You should be the first to read it, right?”

“Thank you, Nia,” Crossette says, taking the journal and flipping through it. “I think this is my handwriting. I can’t tell for sure, but it feels like mine.”

“As someone who has kept a journal across lifetimes, I can confirm that handwriting changes very little between lifetimes,” Brighid speaks up. “If you recognize it, it must be yours.”

Crossette nods, falling silent as she begins reading the words contained within the pages.

Nia watches Crossette’s face for a long moment as she reads, then turns back to Mòrag. “Thanks, I guess. I didn’t know you lot kept any records like that.”

Mòrag smiles and nods. “It hasn’t always been common practice, but after so many Blades have asked about their past lives upon awakening, we began collecting what records we could to live with the Blades and their core crystals.”

“That’s surprisingly cool of you guys. So then, you must have picked out our Blades specifically for us, yeah?” she asks, causing Mòrag to raise an eyebrow. “I mean, you had to have known this was Crossette’s core crystal to know to give us the journal you found with her.”

“I didn’t know any details of who was contained within the core crystals I chose, if that’s what you’re implying. Crossette’s was packaged with the journal and a small note on her circumstances, and that’s all we knew about her.”

Nia hums suspiciously, but drops the subject. “Well, anyways, Crossette, whenever you’re ready, I can introduce you to the people I travel with.”

Crossette nods absently, closing the journal gently and holding it to her chest. “Okay, I’m ready! Let’s meet your friends, Nia!”

~

“Now that everyone has had a moment to wake up a bit and get their bearings, I have a favor I would like to ask of you.” Mòrag stands at the door to the room, hands clasped behind her back.

Ursula shies back into Beary’s arms as the woman speaks, wondering what could possibly be going on. Rex had given her just enough context to count—she knew how everyone knew each other, generally, but not why they were here.

“Regarding the artificial Blade that has been attacking residents of Alba Cavanich and stealing goods, I would like to ask your cooperation in the investigation.”

Those in the room who know what’s going on seem fairly shocked. Ursula had gotten a brief overview of the history between her Driver, his friends, and Mòrag, so she vaguely understands why they’re surprised, yet...

She shuts her mouth. Better not to bother them with questions.

“Why us?” Rex asks. “Surely you’ve got better people on hand that can help.”

“Not that we can spare. I have been doing what I can, but regrettably, there are moves I cannot take as Special Inquisitor, and some that would be incredibly difficult coming from anyone in our military. You lot, however, are able to move much more freely without arousing suspicion.”

“And what exactly is in it for us to fix your problems?” The Gormotti girl—Nia, Ursula thinks—asks standoffishly. She doesn’t seem to like Mòrag much.

Mòrag chuckles, not seeming too fazed by Nia’s clear mistrust. “I’m glad you asked. I am prepared to pardon all three of you for your actions in Gormott, and Nia, I will discuss with his Majesty the possibility of pardoning you entirely.”

Nia falls silent, looking around at her companions with raised ears and eyebrows.

“I think we... might need to talk about this first,” Rex decides.

Mòrag smiles. “Take all the time you need. Tora, I’ll send for someone to make you more sausages.”

The Nopon in question nods, not pausing in his eating. Ursula’s a little bit afraid to ask why he’s been eating nonstop since she awakened, honestly, but he has, with a plate piled high with sausages. On occasion, he pauses to take in big gulps of water, then goes right back to his food. Even when Rex had been introducing her and Beary to him and his artificial Blade, Poppi had done all the talking and Tora had barely paused to acknowledge them.

Ursula follows Rex to where he’s grouping up with the others to talk, Beary close behind her.

“I hate it, but I don’t really see a lot of reason to turn her down,” Nia says quietly as she approaches. “She’s offering a lot here.”

Rex places a hand under his chin thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’m trying to think if there’d be any issue with helping, and honestly?”

“I can think of one,” Malos says, and Ursula visibly bristles at the sound of his voice. “While we’re fucking around here, Mythra and her little friends get all the more time to recuperate and plan.”

“But think about how much easier it’ll be to move around when we don’t have wanted posters up with our faces on ‘em!” Zenobia says. “We won’t have to do any stupid disguises or get stopped as often!”

“When are we even going to be back in Mor Ardain?” Malos fires back.

Zenobia shrugs. “Who knows? We could come back, we could not, but having a chance to get pardoned for the shit we’ve done is super helpful, you know! The only reason it didn’t give us any trouble back in Uraya was because of Uraya’s relations with Mor Ardain, right? If they’d been friendlier with each other, we’d have been captured by Urayan soldiers and shipped to Mor Ardain in a heartbeat.”

“Okay, but why does that matter now?”

“Because,” Zenobia says, “where are we headed to next?”

“Indol,” he answers.

“Hey, Mòrag, what’s the current relationship between Indol and Mor Ardain look like?” Zenobia stops and calls over her shoulder. “Nice and friendly? Willing to hand a group of criminals over to Mor Ardain if only they asked?”

“If we knew that a group of criminals and a terrorist were currently residing in Indol for one reason or another and that their crimes had caused such financial distress as yours have, I have no doubt they would at minimum make attempts to restrict your movements in Indol, yes.”

Zenobia turns back to Malos with a triumphant look. “There’s no way they’d let us meet with the Praetor like that. But if we’re pardoned...”

The white Blade by Nia’s side (Dromarch?) speaks up. “It would be prudent to lend our assistance, if only for a few days.”

“I think it’d be fun!” the other Blade next to Nia, who Ursula is convinced she hasn’t gotten the name of, says. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Well, there’s a lot at stake here, but I would like it if she would stop calling me a terrorist,” Nia says, raising her voice on the last part.

Tora stops eating, having finished his plate and still waiting for the next one. “What friends talking about?” he asks.

There’s a chorus of sighs in response, before Rex says, “Why did I figure you wouldn’t be listening? If we help Mòrag with the investigation into the Artificial Blade that’s been spotted around Alba Cavanich, she’ll pardon us for everything we did in Gormott and pardon Nia for the things she’s wanted for.”

“Oh! That! Tora absolutely want to help. If there really other artificial Blade in Mor Ardain, Tora want to speak to them! Maker of artificial Blade may be no one very important, but may also know what happen to Grampypon and Dadapon!”

Those who aren’t freshly-awakened share sympathetic looks at this statement. That’s a story Ursula and Beary expect they’ll have to get later.

“Malos, I really think for Tora’s sake, we should at least take a look. If we stay in Mor Ardain too long, we’ll leave immediately, alright? But for right now, it can’t hurt to look into it.”

Malos sighs. “Alright, you win. We’ll cooperate with the investigation for now. But if we don’t get any leads by tomorrow night, we’re leaving on the next Titan ship to Leftheria.”

A round of agreements follow, and Rex turns back to Mòrag. “We’ll cooperate, but we need whatever information you can give us about this Artificial Blade.”

She smiles. “I see. Then I’d be happy to brief you. All of you, take a seat.”

Ursula watches as several more plates of sausages are placed in front of the insatiable Tora, cringing a bit when he eats one whole. Still, she takes her seat, and Beary stands behind her comfortingly.

The table she sits at is a decent size, although smaller with Tora’s plates of food piling up in front of him and getting pushed out to the rest of the table. For their group of ten (eleven counting the baby titan on Rex’s shoulder), it’s just enough space for everyone to sit with some amount of space between them. Ursula ends up sitting between Rex and the other Blade she doesn’t know the name of, across from Tora, and she watches in mild horror as he continues to eat with little regard for his self or well-being.

Mòrag takes position at the open space at the end of the table, standing tall with her own Blade at her side. Her Blade hands her a folio, which she opens and looks over before she speaks.

“The artificial Blade we are looking for seems to be modeled after traditional ideas of a maid,” she begins. “She has been spotted in multiple seemingly unrelated places in Alba Cavanich, and we have no information on what she is targeting. We lack a lot of information, but we do have an artist’s sketch of her, as seen at her most recent sighting, which was two days ago.” Mòrag passes around a sheet of paper containing the sketch as she speaks.

Ursula looks over the sketch carefully. What’s drawn on the paper is just a maid in mostly black, with a frilly sort of headpiece on her head and a bow in the center of her chest.

“She has proven difficult to capture due to the jets in her feet, which several witnesses have reported her using to make her escape from every situation she’s appeared in. Unfortunately, efforts to track where she flees to have proven fruitless.”

Malos leans his elbows on the table, and Ursula nearly lets out an eep! at his movements. “So how do you expect us to be able to do anything about it?”

“You also have an artificial Blade at your disposal,” Mòrag says simply. “And, as I recall, that artificial Blade has also demonstrated an ability to fly.”

Poppi nods, smiling brightly. “That true! Poppi able to fly very far and fast. Poppi probably able to track other artificial Blade no problem!”

“In that case, can I rely on you to tail this artificial Blade should you come across it?” Mòrag asks.

Another nod comes from Poppi.

Zenobia raises her hand cheerily. “If it comes down to that, I should go too. I can also fly and I’m fast, and if something happened to Poppi, I could bring her back. Poppi also can’t sense Tora the way Blades can normally sense their Drivers, but if I focus, I can sense where Rex is, so I can find my way back easy if this artificial Blade takes us somewhere weird.”

Malos chuckles. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this one. For once, it might even be a good point.”

“Hey, rude!” Zenobia retorts. “You should try watching your mouth sometime.”

He snorts, raising an eyebrow at her dangerously. “I’ll pass.”

“Why don’t I—” Zenobia starts, rising up out of her seat with a raised fist, but Malos raises a hand.

“Why don’t you what? Better watch what you say, Zenobia. I’ll restart the countdown.”

Zenobia opens her mouth, but seemingly realizing something, sits back down and crosses her arms petulantly. “Fine. I won’t say it. But would it kill you to be a little nicer?”

“If only it would. I promise I’d be happier that way.”

“Alright, so if we come across the artificial Blade, Zenobia and Poppi go after her,” Rex says. “And no one’s spotted her Driver?”

Mòrag shakes her head. “Not even once. Trust that we’ve been looking into it.”

Nia rests her chin on her palm. “Anything else you got for us in that folder of yours?”

“Not in particular. She’s attacked about once every three days, so tonight should be the next sighting. Find her, but don’t do anything reckless or destructive. In the meantime, I will be doing what I can here.”

Nia mutters something under her breath, then says, louder, “then we should get started searching, yeah?”

After a round of agreements, those in their group who aren’t actively consuming sausages at inhuman speeds are asked about, and eventually given, some rather nice dinners. Ursula takes the time they’re eating to ask questions on the things that went over her and Beary’s heads, as well as introduce herself to the other new Blade at the table.

Mentally, she prepares herself with Beary for the task ahead of them. After all, there’s nothing she can really do here except her best.

~

“You know, I can’t help but feel like we might be missing someone,” Rex comments as they regroup. “I thought so when we split up earlier, but…”

Nia sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Did any of you see Crossette at any point since we left the Hardhaigh palace? Because I haven’t seen her anywhere.”

“You lost Crossette?”

“It’s a busy street and a busy city! There’s people everywhere, and she’s nothing like I’m used to dealing with. The only Blade I’ve ever had is Dromarch, after all.”

Rex nods. “Right, from what I saw, Crossette’s really hyperactive, right? Super excitable?”

“Yeah, and apparently, she likes to wander off without saying anythin’ to anyone.”

Malos crosses his arms. “So what you’re telling me is, we’re now looking for an artificial Blade with almost no leads, and Nia’s new Blade?” He sighs. “Great. Guess we’d better get looking before she gets herself into something more than she can handle.”

After a brief conversation, they decide to split up while looking for Crossette and, hopefully, also find some leads on that artificial Blade.

~

“Lady Mòrag, are you certain giving them those core crystals was a good idea?” Brighid asks.

Mòrag nods with a smile. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on giving them anything without a reason.”

“And that reason is...?”

“I do not think it would be prudent to challenge the Aegis and his friends again, after the disaster in Gormott.”

Brighid nods. “I certainly wasn’t expecting them to destroy a water tower just to run away.”

“I think the best option would be to get closer so that we can influence the Aegis if necessary, as well as better keep tabs on their actions,” Mòrag says. “It’s imperative that the Aegis is not allowed to act perfectly freely, after all.”

“I traveled with him once, you know.”

Mòrag raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

Brighid nods. “I had to check after our first encounter, but I wrote about him several times in my journal. I wouldn’t say he ever really got ‘close’ with anyone.”

“Unfortunately for him, I won’t be giving them the choice.” She clasps her hands behind her back prudently. “We should get moving. We have more to do today while they are investigating the artificial Blade matter.”

~

Nia heaves a sigh as she takes her seat. Hours of searching for Crossette and they’ve got no leads on her or the artificial Blade whatsoever. Honestly, it’s not like Crossette wouldn’t have realized she’d have gotten separated by now and just… tried to sense where Nia was. But, given that Crossette hasn’t regrouped with them yet and she’s gotten no leads, she’s too frustrated to do anything but take a break.

“Told you this was a waste of time,” Malos says as he pulls his own chair over to her table. “And no, I haven’t found anything either. Most people are too scared to give me anything useful.”

Nia rolls her eyes. “Probably because you’re so standoffish.” Even a bit of joking around won’t take her mind off the problem at hand, though. “I just don’t understand where in the world she could have gone off to!”

Malos glances around for a moment. “Most Blade can sense their Drivers at least a bit. You’re kind of a Blade. Can’t you do the same?”

She shakes her head. “Just because I’m like this doesn’t mean I can just act like my Blade’s Blade when the situation calls for it. If I could, Dromarch and I would be much better in a fight.”

“I’d imagine what that would look like, but I don’t even know what your weapon is. Or your element, for that matter.”

“Water,” she answers. “And it’s a sabre. Not sure what you’d call it, but it’s much lighter than yours, and I haven’t seen another like it.”

“Water,” he repeats. “Are you and Dromarch both healers, or…?”

She nods, eyes scanning the crowd. “Thanks to… everything… I can heal much better than anyone I’ve ever met. I’ve never tried, but I bet I could bring people back from the dead if I needed to, so…” Her eyes fall to her crossed legs, and the yellow blurs together before her eyes. “Sorry. Just having a few regrets.”

If Malos realizes that she’s hastily wiping tears from her eyes, he doesn’t say a thing about it. He simply watches the crowd.

Nia finds that she appreciates the silence and the lull of the crowd bustling around them. It’s probably late afternoon now, based on the light, and a twinge of worry prickles in Nia’s chest. She wonders if maybe she can sense her Blade like her Blade can sense her, and on a whim, she closes her eyes and feels out into the ether.

She finds… nothing.

Once upon a time, that nothing may have been extraordinarily painful to her, but now, it’s truly nothing. She cannot bring herself to feel sad about it, only frustrated that she has failed.

“I plan on telling Crossette, you know,” she says, more to the silence than to Malos.

Malos raises an eyebrow. “Really? You wouldn’t have any one of us know if you had it your way and you’re going to tell Crossette right off the bat?”

“Well, I just mean that she’s my Blade, you know? A proper relationship with a Driver and Blade requires trust, and I can’t ask her to trust me if she doesn’t even know who I am.”

“Why’d you even bother telling me you were going to tell her,” Malos says, and it doesn’t sound like a question coming from his mouth.

Nia shrugs. “I don’t know, I figured you’d be happy I was trying to stop with the secrets, or something. Guess I should’ve thought better than to try and make you happy though, huh?”

He doesn’t reply to her. Without another word, he gets up and disappears into the crowd, and after a moment, Nia decides that she’ll get back to work, too. She walks in the opposite direction.

A minute or two of walking is cut short when several shouts arise from behind Nia. She glances over her shoulder to see, first, Crossette barreling towards her at speeds that seem impossible, especially in comparison to how little Crossette’s legs are actually moving. Then, it’s the form Crossette’s eyes are locked on, and Nia realizes maybe too late that Crossette is chasing the artificial Blade.

Crossette blazes past, knocking several down in the process, and after a moment to process what, exactly, she’s witnessing, Nia gives chase. The artificial Blade leads them to a bridge, at which point the crowd thins out quite a bit, and beyond, into the wasteland that is the Mor Ardain wilds.

Architect, the sand and heat are already so much worse moments after crossing the bridge. Nia holds her hood over her mouth in an attempt to filter it, but after only a few seconds she finds it impossible to breathe at all.

Crossette is much more dedicated and less bothered by the heat than she is, Nia realizes as the sand becomes too much for her throat and she stops, coughing up a lung and watching Crossette continue.

“Must be because she’s a fire Blade,” Nia mutters. She pushes herself back to standing and gives chase once again, out into the wilds, where only sand, desperation, and death could possibly greet them.

~

Crossette doesn’t stop for anything. She refuses to. The sand is in her eyes and it hurts but dammit, the artificial Blade is right there and she’s going to catch her!

She’s vaguely aware of Nia following, and she thinks maybe she should say something. Ultimately, though, she doesn’t. She simply continues out into the wilderness until the artificial Blade flies beyond a broken down old building and far beyond, out of sight. Nia followed her some distance but, probably due to her lack of cool powered boots, lacks the speed that Crossette has. As such, she struggles to catch up now, so Crossette waits outside for her.

When Nia finally does catch up, she’s sweaty, out of breath, and barely able to speak from sheer exhaustion. She slows to a stop just in front of Crossette, placing both hands on her knees and coughing something horrible.

“Are you okay, Nia?” Crossette asks, lines of worry crossing her forehead as she looks down at her panting Driver.

Nia nods, taking another moment to catch her breath. “Wish I had some water right about now,” she wheezes. “It’s been a while since I had to run like that, and never in this heat.”

“I’m sorry, but I think it might’ve been for nothing,” Crossette says with a frown. “She went off that way.” She points over the cliffside, past the even more dangerous wastes.

Nia sighs, peering out over the cliffside. “What, is there something back there?”

“I guess there has to be if she went that way, right?”

“Okay, I’ll grant you that, but how do we get there?”

Crossette hums, looking over the broken down building they’ve arrived at. The door looks very clearly rusted shut, and if she had to guess, no one’s been here in a long time… and yet, there’s several yellow barrels placed fairly close nearby, not yet faded by the sun and very clearly placed deliberately.

She approaches them, inspecting them closely. The most notable thing is the note pinned to one of the barrels, scrawled in some language Crossette decides she can’t read after several moments of staring at it blankly. She passes it over to Nia with a tilt of her head. “Do you know what this says?”

Nia shakes her head after a moment. “Looks like it might be written in Nopon. I’ll hold on to it, Tora can probably read it for us. Good find, though! Any idea what’s in these things?”

Crossette carefully digs her fingers underneath the lid and peeks inside. “I have no idea what this is.” She dips one finger into the powder and rubs it between her fingers. “Feels like ash?”

“Black ash, maybe?” Nia suggests. “Anyway, let’s keep this in mind. It might have something to do with this artificial Blade business, right?”

Crossette nods. “Right! Hey, do you think maybe this building has something to do with it, too?”

“Huh? Maybe, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to check it out and get out of the sun for a— hey, Crossette, wait up!”

Crossette runs to the door, concentrating ether into her hand and, quite literally, blowing the door off its hinges in one concentrated explosion. She rushes on ahead immediately. “Come on, it’s already cooler in here!” she calls over her shoulder. “You hate the heat, right?”

Nia follows her into the dark building, down the stairs to a predictably empty room. “It’s definitely cooler, but I’m still way too hot.” She reaches up and unclips the cloth she’d been using as a protection from the sun, folding it and draping it over her arm.

Crossette can’t help but stare for a number of reasons. First of all, Nia is wearing only her undershirt and a separate hood now, with her jumpsuit hanging low on her waist, and that’s an image.

Second of all, Crossette is gay.

Third of all, positioned right in the center of Nia’s chest, an inch or two above the neckline of her black undershirt, is a core crystal, tainted with red.

~

“So you’re a Blade.” It’s not a question.

Nia nods.

“And my Driver?” This one is a question.

Another nod. “I figured I should tell you sooner rather than later.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when you woke me up?” Crossette asks, tilting her head.

Nia frowns. “Well… the others don’t exactly… know about me, yet. Dromarch does, and Malos does, and that’s it.”

Crossette hums. “Why haven’t you told any of your friends? You travel with them all the time, right?”

She winces, rubbing her arm nervously. “Well… people don’t really… like Flesh Eaters these days. I’ve been planning to tell them, I just… need a good time, you know?”

“Is there ever a good time?” Crossette wonders aloud. “I mean, not that I don’t think it makes sense to look for one, but… They don’t know something important about you, and haven’t the whole time they’ve known you. When is a good time?”

Nia wrings her hands together in the cloth, wandering around the room a bit until she discovers a door, almost perfectly camouflaged by rust. “I don’t know. I’m scared, honest. The Praetorium hunts people like me down, you know."

She presses one hand against the metal door and it gives easily, groaning as it slides open.

A moment’s sense of danger is all the warning Nia is given before she’s thrown on the ground harshly. Over her stands a very angry-looking igna, and uselessly, Nia grabs for the rings at her waist before remembering that Dromarch isn’t here, she can’t call on him—

Crossette’s bitball sails over Nia’s face and clocks the igna directly in the eye. “Hey! Get away from her!” Crossette yells.

Nia pushes herself to stand while the igna is distracted and grabs for Crossette’s bitball. She’s never used a weapon like this before, but hell, she’ll have to give it a shot now, won’t she?

“Crossette!” Nia calls over her shoulder. “Ready for our first fight together?”

“Am I ever!”

The link between them forms, a feeling like fire in Nia’s veins as the ether channels through her and to the ball in her hands. The line is a weak blue, but doesn’t flicker much, and despite the fact that it’s fire coursing through her, it doesn’t feel unpleasant, just warm and excitable.

Nia welcomes the ether and focuses her attention on the now three angry ignas standing before her, passing the ball between her hands. “Alright, let’s figure out how to use this thing, yeah?”

All three ignas move to attack almost simultaneously, wielding dull swords that won’t cut easily, but man will they hurt when they do. Nia dodges two of them successfully and is grazed by the third, but she stands strong. “Well, if it’s a weapon, the obvious thing is to hit them with it, right?” she reasons under her breath, drops the ball, and kicks it towards the center of the three ignas at full force.

The bitball soars towards the center and knocks one in the stomach, bouncing off and soaring back towards Nia’s waiting hand. Unfortunately for Nia, she’s not very versed in the ways of kicking things and staggers on her feet from the loss of balance.

What ensues can probably best be referred to as “an absolute struggle”. Hitting the ignas with the bitball is tough due to the requirement to aim, and Nia has never been the sporty type, which adds double the difficulty.

Still, she heals when she needs to, keeps pressing onward, and before long, Nia and Crossette have successfully downed the ignas before they can kill them both.

Nia slumps to the floor as their affinity link flickers out, and Crossette soon joins her, handing over the discarded cloth Nia had dropped when she was attacked. “That wasn’t bad!” Crossette says with a grin. “I think it can be kind of hard to use my weapon the right way, and you’ve never used anything like that before, right?”

She nods in response. “Right. Thanks. Was only worried for a second.”

“If you’re worried, then we should try to get some more practice once we head back to Alba Cavanich! And I can teach you how to kick it so it doesn’t hurt you or send you off balance, too!”

“That’d be great,” Nia says. “I never really played with anything like this when I was younger, so it’s less intuitive to me than it might be to someone else.”

“Ah, here.” Crossette leans on Nia’s shoulder a little bit, concentrating hard as she smooths her hand across the newly-forming bruises Nia incurred during the fight. “Can’t have my Driver walking around all beat up, right?”

Nia watches the bruises disappear curiously. “Thanks. Healing really does feel different with different ether types, huh? I knew already, but it’s a lot different feelin’ it like this. I would’ve healed pretty quickly on my own, though, you know.”

Crossette laughs, maybe a bit nervously. “Well, yeah, but you’re still my Driver. I gotta help you out, right? We support each other.”

“Well, yeah.” Nia can’t help but smile in response to Crossette’s own. She pushes herself to stand and carefully loops the folded fabric between her belt and jumpsuit. “Come on, let’s keep looking around, yeah?”

When Nia outstretches her hand to help Crossette up, Crossette simply stares at her in awe for a minute, mouth hanging open slightly.

“Uh, Crossette?”

Suddenly, Crossette’s horns flare with sparks and flame, casting light on the wall behind her and Nia’s face.

“Ack! Breathe, Crossette, before you catch something on—”

“Oh! Sorry, sorrysorrysorry!” As if responding to Crossette’s panic, the fire only worsens. She flattens her palms over her cheeks and squeezes her eyes shut, taking several deep breaths. After a moment, the sparks and the fire die down, plunging them back into relative dimness. “Sorry,” she whines one final time, finally accepting Nia’s hand.

Nia pulls her to her feet. “You’re fine, just be careful, yeah? If these walls weren’t metal, we’d be in a pretty hot situation right now.”

Crossette nods quickly, giving Nia a big smile. “Right, yeah! But let’s get going. If we get this building figured out now then we can have more to report when we get back with everyone later!”

Nia smiles and nods, and with Crossette at her side, they continue investigating the building.

At the bottom of another few flights of stairs is, surprisingly, a much brighter room, and for obvious reason. Rather than the far wall being, well, a wall, there is no wall, just a giant spider and behind that, a vast, open space that looks suspiciously like an unexplored area of Mor Ardain that could lead anywhere. Anywhere, like potentially the place that artificial Blade they’re searching for could have gone to hide.

First, however, they have to deal with the arachno in front of them, so Nia grabs the bitball on her waist and grins. “I think we’re gonna have to get past that little guy to see what’s out there. What do you think, Crossette?”

Crossette nods, slipping in to a battle stance and bringing the affinity link back to life with a smirk. “I’m ready if you are, Nia!”

The moment the warm feeling courses through Nia’s body again, she moves in, carefully dribbling the bitball as she approaches. Before the arachno even takes notice of her, Nia slam dunks the bitball onto its head, sending several sparks of flame flying out as the arachno cries out in surprise.

Nia doesn’t give it a chance to fight back. The moment she bounces back, she begins buffeting the poor thing with the bitball until it falls.

Once it’s collapsed, she hooks the bitball back onto her waist and takes a breath as the warm feeling leaves her. “Alright, let’s keep moving. I can’t help but think there’s somethin’ past here.”

Crossette nods and follows her out onto the scaffolding that the opening leads to. Nia stops and looks out over the landscape.

After all the rust and dust and dirt of the old building, the fresh air is nice, even if it’s sandy and hot and frankly unpleasant. The landscape below Nia is more of the Mor Ardain same—dry, dusty, littered with things that want to kill her, but in the far distance, Nia thinks she sees something like a building.

“Hey, Crossette, you see that?”

Crossette peers out over the railing, leaning over to see better with one hand on her brow to block out the sun. “Yeah… I think I see movement. Think it’s animals, or is it people, do you think?”

“We should check it out,” Nia says, scanning the landscape to see if there’s any people out there. When she sees none, she straightens up.

“Yeah! Maybe there’s something important out there—” Crossette starts, then lets out a startled shout as the metal under her hand groans and gives way, sending her careening toward the ground below.

At least, if not for Nia’s catlike reflexes. With a swift move, Nia lunges to grab Crossette’s wrist and pull her back up, but it’s maybe just a moment too late to help and a perfect moment to follow Crossette down.

“Shit!” Nia shouts as the ground begins racing towards her and instinctively grabs Crossette.

“Crap, Nia!” Crossette says, pulling Nia closer.

Nia slams her eyes shut. If she lands and hits a rock and dies, at least for now she can pretend she’s flying. The feeling in her stomach of racing towards the ground is almost pleasant, the feeling almost like the world is passing her by and she doesn’t have to worry, will never have to worry again—

Both hit the ground rather unceremoniously, and Nia can’t help but think that the ‘oof’ that Crossette lets out before she surely returns to her core is rather deep, but then she realizes she’s not dead, Crossette landed first and doesn’t feel dead or like she’s returning to her core, and begrudgingly, Nia opens her eyes to find that Crossette is directly in the center of a Driver sandwich, and that the other half of the sandwich is a somewhat familiar-looking dumbass wearing an eyepatch.

Standing over them is a Blade with both hands on her hips, peering through her round-framed glasses curiously. “Wow. Not every day you become a literal girl magnet, my Prince,” she comments drily.

Nia stares at her blearily for a long moment, trying hard to process that she didn’t just get both her and Crossette (and, come to think of it, Dromarch too) killed by trying to save Crossette. The Blade standing over her has large glasses, a hat like an ether bulb that seems to be giving off its own light, and muted sea green hair. She’s also extending a hand out to Nia, who first looks back down at Crossette with concern.

“Crossette, are you okay?” she mumbles out, pulling back a bit.

Crossette stares blankly at her for a long moment. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. You’re not hurt at all, are you, Nia?”

Nia groans, carefully accepting the familiar Blade’s hand and getting to her feet. “Nah, I’ll get over it soon enough.” She glances at the Blade that helped her up. “Thanks.”

“Nah, no problem. We were actually waiting around for you.”

Nia pauses to help Crossette up, glancing blankly at the Blade's admission. "You were waiting for us? Sorry, do we know you from somewhere? I thought you seemed a bit familiar, but..."

The pillow sacrifice on the ground groans, pushing himself to his feet. "We've finally found you, Driver of the Aegis!"

Ah. "Oh, it's you idiots. You actually survived falling off that cliff in Uraya, huh?"

Crossette looks between Nia and the eyepatch guy, blinking in confusion. "You know them, Nia?"

Nia shakes her head. "No, no idea who they are."

"Are you sure?" she asks, tilting her head. "They kinda seem like they know you. But I thought..."

"Quit your yapping and prepare to hand over the Aegis, furry-eared fiend!" demands the eyepatch guy. Architect, what was his name? Sink? Geek?

"The Aegis?" Crossette echoes. "Are you talking about Malos?"

Sink will do.

"If that's his name, then yes!" Finally having properly brushed the dirt off himself and situated himself, Sink draws the sword on his back and points it dramatically at the two of them. "You've got no cliffs to push me off of this time, Aegis Driver!"

Nia lets out an annoyed sigh, ears flicking. "And what if I don't 'hand him over'?"

Sink lets out a scoff. "Then we'll have to settle this in a good old-fashioned one-on-one!"

Crossette turns to Nia. "I thought Malos was Rex's Blade, though?"

Nia shushes her with a wry grin. "Don't worry about the details, alright, Crossette?"

"Oh, um, alright?"

Nia begins walking away, towards the building from before. "Come on, we've got to check out that building."

The Blade (Pandoria?) snorts, looking at her snubbed Driver with a smug look. "Looks like you were wrong again, my prince."

Sink doesn't seem to like Nia's method of dealing with him, and runs ahead, brandishing the sword with yet another flourish. "Wait wait wait! I'm not done with you yet, you—" He seems to realize something after a moment, the point of his sword falling in his grip slightly as he stares at Nia.

"What're you looking at me like that for?" she asks, placing a hand on her hip. "Listen, we're a little busy right now, so if you don't mind—"

"Did you have that core crystal before?"

Nia’s blood runs cold, and for a long moment, she’s not sure she remembers how to breathe. She thought being out in the middle of the fucking wastes would be alright, thought that for a bit, she wouldn’t need to be so covered up, so—

“Uh, Nia?”

Crossette’s worried hand on her shoulder snaps her out of the quickened breathing, the thoughts racing through her head, and she forces herself to swallow her fear. “Come on. We’ll talk about this on the way.”

“On the way?” Pandoria asks. “On the way to where?”

Nia brushes past, ignoring the question with skilled redirection. “Just come on.”

Chapter Text

“So then, you’re a Flesh Eater, and of the people that know about it, we’re two of four, not including your Blades?” Zeke says as they approach the building Nia and Crossette had set their sights on. “Must be pretty rough for you.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Nia comments sourly. “I didn’t expect to find anyone out here, so I thought I was fine to cool off a bit, and now you two know…” She sighs in aggravation. “Perfect, really.”

“Hey, you’re not the only one around here with a core crystal stuck in your chest,” Zeke offers, reaching up and pulling his coat to the side, revealing a shard of Pandoria’s core crystal at the center of some nasty scarring.

Nia lets out a low whistle. “I thought Pandoria’s core crystal was an odd shape. How’d you end up with that?”

Zeke shudders at the memory. “Ran into some trouble with some bandits. Almost kicked it, but when I woke up, I was in Indol, and Pandoria had given up part of her core crystal to save me. Apparently it’s some experimental procedure they were testing. I might have died there.”

Nia swallows thickly, turning her eyes back to the broken-down looking building and stopping in her gait. “Yeesh, that must’ve been painful. But thank you for tellin’ me. It does make me feel a bit better, I think.” Emphasis on think. Honestly, she’s not very thrilled at the thought of some random half-wit and his Blade finding out to begin with. The opposite of thrilled, in fact.

She wanders off, investigating some nearby barrels. “If you two could do me a massive favor and not mention this core crystal thing to anyone, that would be fantastic,” she says.

Zeke watches her for a moment. He guesses she must be… averse to being found out or reported, and true, Indol and Praetor Amalthus have done a lot for him and he’d be happy to help them in return, but he’s only just properly met Nia and it’s clear that she’s scared.

“What are you so scared for?” Pandoria asks from beside him, blunt as usual. “I mean, I get it. My prince and I have hung out around Indol for a while now, and I know what they do to people like you. But aren’t you friends with the people you’re travelling with?”

Nia sighs. “I swear I just had this conversation half an hour ago. Look, it’s not that easy, okay? I’m working up to it.” She passes a piece of paper over to Crossette. “Another one of those notes,” she comments in a lower voice to her Blade. “But really, it’s none of your business who I do and don’t tell about myself. We just met, and if I had it my way, you wouldn’t know either.”

Smartly, Zeke makes the executive decision to change the subject. (Especially in light of the glare she’s giving him at her last words.) “What are you two looking for out here, anyway?”

Nia approaches the door and tries to open it, but when it doesn’t budge even an inch, she swears just loudly enough to be audible. “We’re helpin’ the Special Inquisitor out with an investigation so she’ll stop having her soldiers chase after me for the crime of bein’ alive.”

Zeke nods. “Gotcha, gotcha.” Then, the words register in his head. “Wait, sorry, what?”

“You heard me,” Nia replies as Zeke follows her around the corner of the building. “Ah, there we go.” She’s looking up at a ladder to the metal walkway outside the building. It’s not dropped, but...

Nearby, Crossette pushes a button that causes the ladder to drop down in front of Nia. Nia grins back at her and begins climbing. At the top, she peers into the window, then motions the others to join her. Crossette heads up first, then Pandoria, then finally Zeke decides to join them, climbing up and looking inside.

“There’s nothing in there,” he observes, and he’s right—there's nothing but dust and some boxes and scaffolding inside.

Beside him, Nia narrows her eyes, reaching for the bitball clipped on her waist. Without warning, she rears back with it in hand and brings it down on the window, shattering the glass beneath it like—well, glass, he supposes.

Zeke narrowly avoids a stray shard of glass that flies at him in a clear assassination attempt. “Woah, hey, are you sure you should be—”

She glances back at him with a sharp-toothed grin. “If it’s really an abandoned factory, there’s not a problem, is there? But I think I can hear something inside, so, I’m going to check it out inside.”

Without another word, she clambers over the shards of glass and onto the metal walkway inside, carefully testing each step before she puts her whole foot down as if she’s afraid the walkway will reject her and throw her to the floor below in yet another unceremonious heap.

Somehow, she makes it across the catwalk unharmed, and reaches the window on the far side of the room, looking through for quite a long time before wordlessly sneaking her way back across and climbing back out the window. “Crossette, we’ve found our place. We should get back and regroup with the others so we can head in tomorrow.”

Crossette nods with a huge grin. “Got it! I’m ready to head back!”

Nia gives Zeke a side-eye. “You two can come back with us, but not if you’re going to be annoying about it.”

“Annoying?” Zeke repeats in a scandalized tone. “Pandy and Turters and I are far from—”

“This counts,” she cuts him off flatly, arching an eyebrow.

He shuts his mouth in response. Unfortunately, he does have some business with her little group, so shutting up will have to do for now.

Nia slides past him on the metal catwalk and leaps down in lieu of the ladder, followed shortly after by Crossette. They don’t wait for Zeke or Pandoria, the former of who follows without incident. Zeke races after them, back into the wastes, back towards Alba Cavanich, the Aegis, and civilization.

~

Nia wraps the bolt of cloth she’d been using as a sun protection carefully around her shoulders when they enter the abandoned building they reached the lower area through the first time, clipping it in place when she’s satisfied that it covers everything Bladelike about her.

“You know, for a Blade, you really don’t look all that... Blade-y.” Zeke is looking her over. “Really. If I hadn’t seen a core crystal, I’d never have noticed.”

Nia scoffs. “Yeah, that’s on purpose. What do you think I made this form for?”

Zeke blinks. “‘Made’ this form? What, you look like that on purpose, Furry Ears?”

“Watch it.” She eyes him dangerously. “And yes, this is on purpose. When you look like a Blade, you don’t get very far in making people think you’re not a Blade.” As if that wasn’t obvious.

Nia leads them up the flights of stairs, racking her brain for the way out, and to her surprise, she finds it with relative ease, leading them back out into the Ardainian sun. Here, however, she stops. “Hey, Crossette, you remember how to get back to Alba Cavanich from here?”

Crossette hums, bringing her hand up to her chin. “We came from... that way, right? Maybe we’ll see it if we walk for a while.” She points down the only obvious path, though she doesn’t look very confident in her answer.

Nia groans. “We should’ve paid attention to where that artificial Blade was taking us. It’s as good a method as any, I guess. Come on, we’ll get back there eventually.” With a sigh, she begins walking the way Crossette had pointed, and the others follow her.

Some amount of walking does, in fact, lead them back to the sight of Alba Cavanich, and from there, they walk straight toward it, just in time to see a familiar face approaching from the bridge. Dromarch bounds up, something like a smile and relief on his face. “My Lady! I was worried when we could not find you.”

Nia smiles, scratching the top of his head appreciatively. “I’m fine, I’m fine. We’ve got some information on that artificial Blade for everyone. You know where they are?”

Dromarch nods. “I will lead you back to them. I see you have found Miss Crossette without issue.”

“Yeah, she ran past me chasing after that artificial Blade, so I followed.”

“And, it seems, you’ve made some new friends.”

Nia snorts at that. “We might have dropped in on them, a little bit. As long as they don’t cause trouble, I’ll let them hang around us, so don’t worry about them too much.”

“Have you found anything, Dromarch?” Crossette asks as she walks alongside him. “About the artificial Blade stuff, I mean.”

Dromarch’s ears flick back in shame. “Not exactly, no.”

“Oh, well that’s okay too! I think we’ve got enough information for anyone, in any case. Come on!” She sprints ahead excitedly.

“Miss Crossette, wait! You don’t know where we’re—”

“Ah, you’re right!” She hurries back to the group, face flushing red in embarrassment. “Still, let’s hurry! I want to tell everyone the good news!”

Crossette continues to liven up the conversation until finally, Dromarch comes across the rest of their little group. They’re sat around in the outdoor café Nia had rested at for a bit earlier, and when Rex happens to look over and see Nia and the others approaching, his eyes light up.

“Hey, Nia!” he shouts, waving them over.

Nia sighs good-naturedly as she approaches and pulls up a chair. “You’re in good spirits.”

“We were worried about you. We were supposed to regroup, and you didn’t show. It looks like we might’ve been right to worry, huh?”

She blinks, trying hard not to jump to conclusions and take offense to the statement. “What d’you mean?”

He gestures to her. “Well, look at you. You’re all covered in dirt, and there’s a big bruise on your face that wasn’t there before.”

“Oh, right. Crossette and I fell off a catwalk, so that’s probably it.”

“You what? Where have you two been?” Zenobia asks, leaning forward in her seat with a sparkle in her eyes. Her gaze flickers over to the newcomers curiously.

Nia stretches her arms low in front of her. “Ah, let’s go with ‘we were following up on a lead for the investigation’. Speaking of, did you lot find anything?”

Rex frowns. “Not much to go on, no. I talked to some people who saw the artificial Blade, but they couldn’t tell me anything about her. Apparently there was a sighting while we were investigating, too!”

“Ah, yeah, about that…”

Crossette pumps one fist in the air. “We saw her! I ran past Nia while I was chasing her and Nia followed me!” She continues to tell the story of their foray into Ardainian wilderness, making animated, sweeping movements with her arms as she regales them. Nia privately thanks the Architect that Crossette thought enough to withhold all the parts concerning her recent discovery regarding her Driver. “And she ended up taking us to this busted up old factory!”

“Yeah, I broke in a little bit and checked it out. There’s an old factory out there that’s crawlin’ with Tirkin. Looks like they’re making a whole bunch of artificial Blades, but they don’t look like the one that’s been spotted around here. Much less… human, if you get what I mean.”

“Tora not sure what this other artificial Blade look like, if Tora being honest,” Tora pipes up.

Nia stares at him blankly. “What were you doing during the briefing?”

“Tora was far too busy eating tasty sausages for talk of that! Friends should know better than to talk about boring matters when Tora have food.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh, one of a veritable chorus thanks to the others.

Poppi tilts her whole body to the side childishly. “Masterpon, it look like Poppi, but with large chest plate and maidy dress! It look a lot like plans Masterpon uploaded into Poppi.”

Some sort of recognition flashes in Tora’s eyes for a moment. “Poppi think it look like Lila!?”

Poppi nods. “It very similar. Almost perfect recreation!”

“If artificial Blade of Mor Ardain really Lila, then Tora want to help look for Lila!”

Zenobia lets out a laugh. “Where were you when we all agreed to look for the artificial Blade? Wait, better question. What have you been doing while the rest of us were asking around?”

“Oh, Tora was talking with shopkeep about parts for sale. Looking to gather parts for upgrade Poppi.”

Malos lowers the cup he’d been drinking from, frowning dangerously. “Tora, if you really want to be cool and responsible and whatever, you should try paying attention to your surroundings for once.”

“Tora get it! Friends so reliable because friends pay lots of attention! Poppi, take notes!”

“Understood, Masterpon. Poppi recording this in files for Operation Cool Masterpon.”

Malos turns back to the newcomers in the group, raising a dangerous eyebrow. “And it’s been bothering me for a while now. What the hell are you two doing here?”

“We have been sent to—”

“You know what, never mind, I don’t care enough. Just fuck off, we’re kind of busy.”

“Poppi have question.” The artificial Blade raises one arm, and Nia glances at her, pointedly ignoring the affronted, open-mouthed looks Zeke and Pandoria are giving in unison. Creepy. Are Rex and Malos going to start emoting in sync, too?

“Go ahead.”

“What does it mean to ‘fuck off’?” Poppi asks innocently, sending several around the table into coughing fits.

“Nonono, Poppi, that not important word to remember! It best that Poppi forget everything Malos say!” Tora scrambles to correct her.

Poppi tilts her head the other way. “But Masterpon tell Poppi to record advice of friend Malos for Cool Masterpon Operation. Should Poppi delete files?”

“No, that not right either!”

Nia laughs, leaning her elbows on the crowded table. “What Tora’s trying to say is, don’t add any new words to your vocabulary if you learn them from Malos.”

“Understood. Then Poppi will not add ‘fuck off’ to vocabulary.”

“More importantly,” says Zeke, “we’re here as a special envoy from Indol. Sent to collect the Aegis and his Driver, as well as anyone who’s travelling with them.”

“We’re kind of busy right now, actually,” Rex answers. “Can it wait until we finish with the investigation?”

Zeke pauses. “Well, yeah, I suppose it can wait. But I’m going to be really annoying and follow you around until you’re ready to go!”

Nia shrugs. “Fine by me. You’ve been doing that for the past hour or so anyway. Are you at least going to help with the investigation?”

“I might as well,” he answers. “You okay with that, Pandy?”

“Color me curious. I’m game.”

Zeke turns back, smiling broadly. “Then consider me a part of your little investigation team!”

She rolls her eyes at the man, then turns back to her companions. “I can take you lot back to the factory tomorrow. I think we should rest up first, though. It looked like they had a lot of security going on down there, so we’ll want to be in top form.”

“What kind of security are we talking, here?” Zenobia asks, leaning in curiously. “This could be fun!”

“I doubt it. It was just a lot of Tirkin. But who knows? Maybe there’s more. I only looked in long enough to confirm it was worth checking out, after all.”

“So what can you tell us, then?” Malos asks.

“How to get there,” she replies, “and that they’re producing an awful lot of artificial Blades. Oh, and we’ve got something neither of us could read. Crossette, you still have those notes we picked up, right?”

Crossette nods, producing them and handing them over to Nia.

“Tora, can you or Poppi read Nopon?”

“Of course! What friend take Tora for, some littlepon with no education?” Tora takes the notes and reads them over. “Hmm… very interesting.”

“What’s it say, Tora?” Rex asks, bouncing on his seat a bit. Nia can’t help but stifle a scoff. What a child.

Tora looks up at the group, smiling proudly. “Tora have no idea! It look like Nopon writing, but incredibly difficult to read! Tora will need another moment. Maybe friends have Poppi look at other note, for fast translate.”

Crossette hands over the other note to Poppi, who stares blankly at it for a long moment. The table falls quiet, as if they are afraid to disrupt her attempts to read the note.

“Masterpon right,” Poppi says finally, breaking the silence. “This written as though hand of littlepon, or like handwriting of Masterpon. No regard for how words supposed to look at all!”

“Meh… Handwriting of Tora not that bad…”

“But can you still read it, Poppi?” Zenobia asks.

Poppi nods. “It no problem for Poppi! Masterpon have trouble reading own penponship, so Poppi learn how to decipher writing of Masterpon. This not much different.”

“What does it say?” asks a quiet voice, and only just now does Nia remember that Rex has a third (and also maybe fourth?) Blade now. Ursula has been silent most of the time, after all, and Beary apparently doesn’t speak.

“It look like receipt for purchase of black ash and bion connector. It not mention name of buyer anywhere, but it look like this only one of several shipments!”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Nia says, eyes flicking to Crossette’s. “There was black ash in the barrel we opened, yeah?”

“Yeah, that must have been it!”

“Black ash and… bion connectors?” Tora repeats, tilting his head. “Both of those parts for build artificial Blade like Poppi!”

“Eh?” Rex straightens his posture in his seat. “You sure about that, Tora?”

“Tora very absolutely sure!” he insists, frowning as though he’s taken offense. “Tora know every part used for building Poppi and every part used for building Lila! It no mistake!”

“So then, it’s a shipment of parts to build more artificial Blades.” Malos leans back in his chair precariously, crossing his arms. “Whoever’s building them, they’re either creating an army, or trying to sell them to someone who needs it.”

“Who ‘needs’ an army, though?” Rex frowns. “The only places I can think of that would justify it are Uraya and Mor Ardain, and neither of those make sense.”

“No, you’re forgetting someone.” Malos glances over at Nia, his eyes sharp in a way that almost causes Nia to flinch. “Nia. You’re our Torna insider.”

Her ears raise at the surprise of being put on the spot. “Well, yeah, I guess I am. What about it?”

“Any idea what they were planning?”

And just like that, her ears flatten back down. “’Fraid not. I wasn’t there long; they didn’t trust me enough to tell me much of anything. Something about making sure I was loyal before they told me anything I could use against them. You know, if they thought I’d survive turnin’ against them.”

Malos stares at some spot on the table for a moment, turning the idea over in his head. “Last time I fought Mythra, really fought Mythra, she had an army of artifices by her side, and so did I. I remember taking down most of hers, and I lost a lot of mine in the final fight…” He clicks his tongue. “What did the artificial Blades look like?”

She falters at his question. “Er, I dunno. Sort of… really robotic, yeah? Shaped like people, but with nothing else to make them look like people. I didn’t see any of them too closely.”

“I think,” Malos says, re-seating his chair solid on the ground and leaning both elbows on the table before him, “that Mythra’s little group is buying an army. We already know they’re not after peace.”

“Torna, eh?” Zeke echoes, placing a hand on his chin thoughtfully. “You’re talking about the terrorist group, right? I wasn’t aware there was any more to them than just a taste for chaos. Core crystal hunters, yeah?”

“Wait, they’re core crystal hunters?” Rex asks, raising his eyebrows. “I didn’t know that part. Thought that was, like, a side thing.”

Nia sighs. “It’s more like, Patroka’s a core crystal hunter. She’s always out hunting for the fun of it. The others don’t care nearly as much, though I think Jin’s taken part every now and then. But none of that’s the point. Malos, you think that Torna’s buying artificial Blades?”

He nods. “Like Rex said, there’s not a lot of people who would be after buying that many artificial Blades. Either Mor Ardain or Uraya could be trying to bolster their armies by giving artificial Blades to those in their ranks without potential, but if Mor Ardain were, they wouldn’t be sending us to look into and shut down those operations. And I think Uraya would be smarter than to source their weapons directly from the enemy’s territory.

“So that just leaves various insurgent groups, which I’m not going to pretend to know anything about, and Mythra. She seems like the easiest answer.”

“So where does that get us? Sure, we’ve got an idea of what the artificial Blades are for, but why does that matter?” Crossette asks.

“Think about what we’re getting into. There’s what, how many people tagging along with Mythra right now?”

“Four,” Nia answers automatically. “Two Drivers, one former, and Jin, who’s a force regardless. Akhos can probably handle any of us even without a Blade, though.”

“And what happens if any of them are there to collect on their purchase, hypothetically speaking?”

“Ooh, you make a good point.” Nia glances skyward, considering the idea. “We’ll just have to go all out in that case, yeah?”

“You think we can handle them at this point?” Malos raises an eyebrow.

She shrugs in response. “Maybe not Mythra. But you said she and Pyra are damaged, yeah? And you destroyed Sever. And goin’ on a job like that isn’t their style, anyway.”

“And the others?”

She hums thoughtfully. “Mik isn’t much of an issue. He can hit, yeah, but he’s not about killin’ or fightin’ as much as the others. Akhos… well, he wants me dead, yeah, but I don’t know about the rest of you. But he’s pragmatic. Now that Rex has done… whatever he managed to do with that Art back in Uraya, he’ll likely be taking a step back to assess the situation before doing anything else, which he’s probably not going to be doing here, of all places. Jin, too, probably wouldn’t be there. But if Patroka’s here? We can take her, but I’ll be working overtime to keep you lot alive. She hits to kill.”

Malos chuckles. “Then it’s settled. We’ll go in regardless.”

“For now, let’s get some food and rest up,” Rex says.

Nia nods her agreement. Malos’s input has put her on the edge of her seat. She’ll need all the help she can get.

Privately, she smiles to herself. Maybe for once, it’s a good thing that she’s not alone.

~

“Hey, Nia, guess what?” Zenobia says excitedly. The Nia in question is currently laid face down on her bed in their room of the inn, and if not for occasional shifts and lifting of her head to take some breaths of non-blanket filtered air, Zenobia would have been convinced she’d fallen asleep like that.

Nia groans in response. “What?”

“There’s a hot spring here! And I already checked it out. There’s like, no one there right now!”

Nia lifts her head, not making eye contact with Zenobia but instead looking over to Crossette. “Is there?”

Zenobia sits on the edge of Nia’s bed, bouncing excitedly. “There is! We girls should go. Come on, it’ll be a fun bonding exercise, and everyone agreed we should relax before tomorrow, right? And you’re super sore from that fall you and Crossette had earlier, right?”

Nia heaves a sigh. “I don’t know if that’s a great idea. And I’d feel bad leavin’ Poppi out.”

Poppi smiles from where she’s sat in the corner of the room. “Poppi can use hot spring, no problem! Poppi made of special alloy, so not susceptible to rust or other issues from being in water.”

Zenobia grins. “See? There’s no issue! It’s not like you’re shy about your body or anything, right?”

Nia turns her head away. “Right. Shy, that’s it.”

She hums curiously, tilting her head to one side, then the other. Now what other concerns might Nia have? “Come to think of it, you always do go really far to bathe and change and stuff like that. Are you actually just that body-conscious?”

Nia waits a long time before responding. “…Yeah.”

“That… sounds like a lie, honestly,” Zenobia says after a moment. “But you know, we’re all girls here. And Ursula’s probably shy about herself, too! So you don’t have to worry! Come on, it’ll be fun, and you’ve gotta bond more with Crossette since she’s your Blade now, right?”

“I… suppose that’s true, yeah,” Nia admits. She scans the room as if she’s searching for something, but clearly she doesn’t find it, because all she does is flip over on her back so that she’s staring at the ceiling.

Zenobia stares at her for a long moment, but refuses to be fazed by her lack of enthusiasm. “Right, so we’re going! All of us! Ursula, that means you, too!”

“Oh! Um, if you insist…”

Zenobia reaches out, grabbing Nia by the harness on her jumpsuit and hefting her up. “Come on.”

Nia squawks, flailing as she’s lifted up. “Hey! Put me down!”

She does not put her down. In fact, followed by the rest of the girls, Zenobia easily carries Nia up to the hot springs, which are just as empty as she’d hoped they’d be. She drops Nia to the floor of the changing room with a thunk! and begins shrugging out of what little clothes she has the moment she’s kicked the door closed behind them.

“Ah, Nia, are you okay?” Ursula asks, scampering up to the poor Gormotti and crouching over her. She pointedly looks away from Zenobia’s already exposed body, blushing faintly.

Nia groans. “I’m just fine, thank you,” she mumbles into the dirt, pushing herself up after a long moment.

“Since you’re already here, why not join us in the hot spring, Nia?” Zenobia says, voice sugar-sweet as she grabs a towel and wraps it around herself.

“I understand Malos more and more every day,” Nia grumbles. Crossette extends her hand to help her up, pulling her to her feet.

“You guys go ahead and get ready, I’m going to head in!” Zenobia says with a grin, racing out to the hot spring and slipping in.

One by one, the other girls join. First Poppi, who really needed only to remove her hat and her cape, then Crossette who, despite her outfit being probably the most complex of the group, seemed to have been quickest to disrobe.

For several minutes, the three relax in the water, then finally Ursula emerges, face a deep red. She toes her way into the water, then submerges herself completely, sighing. “This is nicer than I thought!”

“Ah, you’re ice, aren’t you?” Zenobia says, peering at her through the steam. “Still feels nice though, right?”

Ursula nods, eyes drifting shut. “It’s very pleasant.”

“But man, Nia takes forever to get changed, huh?”

Crossette smiles good-naturedly. “I bet she’s just taking her time! No need to rush when the hot spring’s still here, right?”

“Why is friend uncomfortable with body?” Poppi asks, big eyes looking around at the others innocently.

“Good question! I wouldn’t really know anything about that,” Crossette says quickly, and Zenobia’s eyes slide to her in suspicion at the way her horns suddenly ignite. “Ack! Sorry, sorry, those do that sometimes!” She pauses to take several deep breaths.

“You’re not trying to cover for her going back to the room or something, are you, Crossette?” Zenobia asks, eyes narrowing at the poor Blade.

“C-cover for her?” Crossette stammers. “No, no way! Besides, Ursula was in there, too, so there’s no way we could have come up with something like that—”

“Crossette, you’re sparking again,” Nia says. She comes to a stop behind the girl, holding her towel high on her chest with one hand. Crossette turns to face her, and if anything, the sparks from her horns only worsen.

“N-Nia! I didn’t know if you were going to—”

Nia laughs, sliding into the water beside Crossette with a smile. “It’s fine. I can’t be afraid forever, right?”

Whatever’s going on in this conversation, it’s almost entirely lost on Zenobia. She has almost no idea what’s going on, just that there’s something there. “Crossette, do you—”

“I’m not hiding anything!” Crossette snaps, turning back to face Zenobia with a deeply red face.

“Friend should take deep breaths. Poppi does not breathe, but Masterpon say it good for when heart rate rise so quickly.”

“M-my heart rate is perfectly fine, thank you!” Were Crossette standing, Zenobia imagines she’d be stamping her foot in irritation. “Oh, you guys are so mean!”

“Calm down, Crossette, it’s really fine,” Nia insists, raising her free hand to her mouth to laugh. She keeps her other hand clutching her towel firmly, almost uncomfortably high on her chest, and Zenobia’s suspicions only rise.

“Nia, you’re hiding something,” she states simply, accusatorily.

Nia’s ears raise up in alarm for just a moment, her good mood evaporating instantly. “Yeah, I have been for a while. Crossette’s freaked out because I had to drag her into it as her Driver.”

“Wait, Nia, you’re going to—” Crossette’s head snaps to look at Nia, her eyes wide.

Nia smiles back. “Like I said. It’s fine.”

Zenobia leans back against the wall behind her, frowning and tilting her head. “Can we get some context here?”

“Sure,” Nia says. “But can you lot do me a favor? Don’t mention anything to the guys yet. I plan to tell them, yeah, but it should come from me, yeah?”

“You’re not making me understand this any more,” she says.

“Nia’s hiding something from us?” Ursula says quietly.

“Poppi not sure what friend could possibly have hidden so long.”

Nia takes a deep breath, placing a hand on Crossette’s shoulder as if she’s trying to reassure her. Zenobia thinks it looks more like Nia’s trying to ask for reassurance, though, and if she finds it, it’s in the moment she locks eyes with her Blade.

Nia drops her towel, squeezing her eyes shut in something that’s probably fear, if Zenobia had to guess. Somehow, however, Zenobia doesn’t think that her concern is her state of undress. Right there, in the center of her chest, is a single core crystal, shining bright blue, tainted with shocks of pink.

“Nia is Blade?” Poppi asks curiously, not seeming too surprised. Then again, she is a robot.

Zenobia casts her eyes upwards, processing the information slowly, methodically. When she returns her gaze to Nia’s chest, it’s still there, pulsing faintly with light as if to spite the world. “So you’re…”

“A Flesh Eater, yeah,” Nia finishes. “Have been for years. I’d been avoiding tellin’ everyone because Flesh Eaters aren’t exactly… liked very well. Especially not in places like Indol.”

“Geez, I thought your dark secret was going to be something serious,” Zenobia says. “Like, murder or you were actually working for Torna secretly the whole time or and acting as a mole or something like that.”

“It’s not—you don’t think me not being who I said I was is serious? Even a little?”

She shrugs. “I mean, you’re Nia either way, right? I wish you’d told us sooner, but I get it. And besides, did you ever actually… say you were Gormotti? I think everyone just assumed you weren’t a Blade.”

Nia blinks, ears flicking in confusion. “I don’t get any of you. First those two strays we picked up found out by accident and couldn’t care less, and the rest of you just… accept it?”

“I mean, just because we didn’t know something about you and never asked or bothered to check doesn’t mean you aren’t the same person. You’re Nia no matter how much we know about you. And I’m glad you stuck around with us.”

Nia chuckles, eyes squinting in a way that looks like she might cry. “You’re just glad I’m around to keep your Driver and, by consequence, you alive.”

“Poppi not understand. Friends not aware that Nia was Blade?”

Nia’s eyes snap to Poppi. “Wait, you knew?”

Poppi nods. “Of course. Nia not very slick. And Nia take in ether like Blade. Poppi was not very sure until friend Cole in Uraya tell friends he was also Blade. Then Poppi understand because Cole and Nia have same energy.”

“Same energy, huh?”

Nia has to laugh. And she does. Zenobia watches as Nia dissolves into laughter, peals of laughter echoing off the rocks and into the quiet night, light bouncing off a mirror.

Chapter Text

Nia wakes the next morning feeling lighter than she ever has. Talking with the girls last night had been wonderful, just the thing to lift years of weight off her chest. And to sleep on a real bed that wasn’t in motion! To move forward in life!

She prepares for the day, pulling her jumpsuit on and fastening it the way she’d been wearing it yesterday, tied at the waist to give her skin some breathing room. She even hums as she clips her cloak in place, twisting in the room’s mirror until she’s satisfied.

When she slips out of the room to avoid waking any of the girls, Dromarch is already waiting at the door, searching her face with his eyes. She smiles down at him. “Breakfast?” she whispers.

Dromarch nods, and together, the two descend the stairs to go searching for breakfast.

Malos is already up, as usual. Nia smiles at the fact, despite how their last one-to-one conversation went. “Morning!” she chirps, joining him at the table.

He eyes her dangerously. She’d almost forgotten how… lovely he is after he wakes up.

“Didn’t sleep as usual, huh?” she quips.

“I see you’re in an annoyingly good mood.”

“Yep!”

“Something happen?”

“Well, you could say so, yeah.” She nearly hums more as she looks over the breakfast café’s menu, eyes landing on something that looks appetizingly sweet and fruity.

“Don’t beat around the—”

“—I told the girls last night.” Nia interrupts before Malos can get out a proper irritated remark. “About who I am.”

“You did?” For once in his life, Malos seems genuinely fazed. He stops eating, looks at Nia straight on, and maybe his eyes are even open a bit wider than usual.

Nia nods. “It went pretty well. I just have to tell Rex, Tora, and Azurda, really.”

“What about those two tagalongs we picked up?”

“Ah, them. They sort of… found out by accident already. When Crossette and I dropped in on ‘em, my cloak came off and they saw.”

“I see.” Malos turns back to his food.

“You sure seem happy about it.”

“I just don’t understand why you think I care.”

Wow. “You’re such a ray of sunshine, you know that, Malos?”

He doesn’t respond. Nia, however, refuses to let him win this by being an asshole. She presses onward. “Regardless of your determination to be a damper, I’m not letting that get to me,” she declares. “What, are you afraid of something?”

“I don’t do ‘afraid’,” he grumbles.

She places her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “Clearly you do. Why else would you be like this when I tell you somethin’ good? I’m movin’ forward.” Only when the words leave her mouth does she understand how she sounds. “Sorry, maybe I’m overreactin’. But you seriously don’t care at all?”

"No, I seriously don't," he says.

"Why not?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"You know, I'm starting to think that you just act like an ass so you don't have to deal with what'll happen when the people you could be close with eventually die."

Malos's eyes flick to hers. He remains silent.

Nia leans on the table, eyes searching his face. "I'm right, huh? Well, unfortunately for you, I don't intend to die, so you've got no reason to push me away. Anyways, I'm tellin' the guys just as soon as I find a good chance. You don't have to be happy for me, just try not to be so rude about it, yeah?"

"And what'll you do about our agreement?"

"Our... agreement?" Nia blinks, settling down in her seat. She honestly doesn't know what he's talking about for a long moment, but after a moment, it hits her. "Oh! Well, obviously, I'm going to keep up my end of the bargain. You didn't tell my secret, so I'm not gonna tell yours. Just because I chose to tell mine doesn't mean that our agreement is void, yeah?"

Nia swears for a moment that Malos looks visibly relaxed at that statement. (Well, as relaxed as he’s ever looked. She’s not sure he knows how to feel relaxed, when it comes down to it.)

"Why do you care so much that people don't know, anyway?"

"I already told you."

"Did you? I don't remember."

"Okay, let me reword that. You already figured it out, didn't you?"

Nia shrugs, staring blankly. Malos sighs in response, reaching for his cup of coffee.

"It's not necessary for people to know. It'll create unnecessary situations and reliance on people that I’m not into.”

“I thought we agreed that you’d try to open yourself up to other people more,” Nia says with a frown.

Malos rolls his eyes. “I let you help me cook dinner once. That doesn’t mean I’m suddenly going to be this open social butterfly or whatever. I’m not—” He cuts himself off. “Never mind.”

“No, keep going. What were you about to say?”

“Nothing important. Just reminding myself of someone I don’t know anymore.”

Nia sighs, slumping in her seat and crossing her arms. “You are a real handful to deal with sometimes, you know that?”

“I get that a lot. That’s your problem, though.”

She lets out a single laugh. “If you get it a lot, it’s comin’ from you, though.”

His lips tighten together, and he lets out a low hum. “That doesn’t make it my problem. If you stop expecting things from me, you won’t have to be disappointed.”

“Who said I was disappointed? I know what to expect by now. Still, it really can’t hurt you to rely on others more. How’re you doing with Rex?”

Malos doesn’t answer.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll get the report from Rex instead.”

“Fine, I guess. It’s getting easier to link with him, and I think he’s starting to get used to me.”

“May I join in this conversation?” Azurda says as he approaches, landing on the edge of the table.

“No you may not,” Nia says at the same time that Malos says, “Sure, I don’t care.”

Nia glances at Malos in mild surprise and interest. “Well, if Malos doesn’t care, then never mind. Feel free.”

“I thought an objective voice might help in your analysis. Luckily, I spend all of my time around Rex, so I can provide that for you!”

“Sure, what’ve you got?” Nia asks, resting her elbows on the table.

“Rex has begun to trust Malos more,” Azurda starts. “It would be difficult to tell if you were not paying close attention! But truly, they are growing closer. Why, it’s only a matter of time before Rex gets around to getting past that exterior of Malos’s!”

Malos snorts. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Am I incorrect, or are you not growing closer to my boy?” Azurda tilts his head innocently.

“You always did like to meddle, Azurda.” Unless Nia’s mistaken, that’s a smile on Malos’s face, though it’s tinged with Malos’s usual irritation.

Azurda chuckles, bringing a paw to his mouth with a wry little smile. “Well, it is quite entertaining. But, I’d stand by my assessment. Like it or not, both of you are growing closer.”

Malos rolls his eyes. “If you say so.”

The morning crawls on. Light stretches through the window, and despite Malos’s best efforts, Nia makes the most of it.

~

Mor Ardain in the morning is noticeably less hot than Mor Ardain is around midday. ‘Cooler’ isn’t really the right word, but at least, not quite so unbearably hot. Not only that, but it appears the dust and sand yesterday wasn’t a constant thing, because Nia can actually keep her eyes open without her eyes feeling grainy and watery.

They reach the old factory without issue, and Nia leads them up to the window she broke yesterday. “Doesn’t look like they even noticed,” she mutters as she climbs in and crosses to the opposing window. The others all follow, one after another across the catwalk, until Nia has no choice but to break another window to enter the factory proper.

“Woah,” Rex says, at normal volume, the moment they enter the main room of the factory. “This place is huge…”

“Keep your voice down.” Nia hisses back. “D’you want to let the whole factory know we’re here?”

“Oh, sorry. So this is as far as you’ve gone, then?”

Nia nods, eyes trained on a Tirkin further down the catwalk. “Heads up.”

She swoops in on the Tirkin, followed by Crossette, who brings the affinity link to life the moment Nia grabs for the bitball. With one swift crack, Nia brings the ball down on the Tirkin’s head, and it falls to the ground accordingly.

“Hey, Zenobia,” Nia whispers. “How many of these guys do you think you could take out without catchin’ too much attention?”

“Ooh, a challenge?” Zenobia’s eyes light up, and a grin spreads across her face. “Let’s find out.”

Without another word, Zenobia zips away, effortlessly picking off countless Tirkin. Nia and the others watch for a long moment.

“Good thinking,” Malos says. “Maybe now she’ll leave us alone for a bit, and we won’t have to deal with any guards directly.”

Nia smirks. “Well, thank you for the rare compliment. I just figured she’d be itching to get some proper exercise, ‘sall. And besides, I think on days we get her some exercise, she’s quieter when we stay at the inn. I, for one, would like for her to let me sleep tonight.”

“It true that Zenobia have plenty of energy at end of day, like have many naps. But Zenobia never wake Poppi?”

“Probably because of your sleep mode or something, I dunno. Guess you’re just a naturally heavy sleeper.” Nia shrugs. “Regardless, it looks like Zenobia’s opened a way for us. Let’s get moving.”

The factory is a long, winding trip consisting of many twists and turns, alongside waiting around for Zenobia to handle the next line of guards. After maybe an hour of traipsing around the factory, Tora stops them. “Friends, look! That artificial Blade no-doubt Lila!”

“Lila’s the one you were making with your dad, right Tora?” Rex asks. “You sure it’s her?”

Tora nods excitedly. “It has to be Lila! Not possible for someone else to replicate design!”

The artificial Blade in question appears to be overseeing some Tirkin’s work on something or other, but her hearing must be enhanced, because she pauses to look up to where they’re crouched, hopefully out of sight. Zenobia’s off picking off some Tirkin out of her line of sight, so she’s safe for now, and Nia holds her breath, expecting a proper fight.

The fight doesn’t come. Lila turns back to the Tirkin for a moment, says something too quietly for them to hear from their vantage point, and walks off.

Tora, seeing this, runs after her, following as closely as he can from the catwalks.

“Tora! Wait!” Crossette whisper-shouts after him.

Poppi gives chase, which if anything, may just worsen the situation. Nia lets out a sigh. “Come on, we should follow them.”

And so it happens that everyone is giving chase after the artificial Blade, until she goes into a smaller room contained within the greater factory. Zenobia catches up to them and, upon request, assists in easily carrying everyone to the ground level so they can enter.

Twists in staircases and various rooms later, and they are forced through a vent in their search. What they find at the end of that vent is Tora’s father, who’s meticulously doing some form of maintenance on Lila.

“Lila needs to make report,” the artificial Blade says in a monotonous voice. “It possible that there intruders in factory.”

“Intruders?” the Nopon echoes. “What Lila mean?”

“Lila see large group of unfamiliar Drivers and Blades on catwalks [earlier]. Lila think that they here to investigate factory.”

“Meh… Lila should not mention this to anyone else,” the Nopon says. “Guards will take care of it, not cause problem for others that way.”

Lila remains silent at this, and Tora, clear thinker that he is, drops out of the vent, followed by Poppi. “It… really Dadapon Tatazo?”

The Nopon in question turns suddenly. “Tora? That you? Sonnypon of Tatazo?”

“It is Dadapon!”

Nia shares a look with her companions, then drops down after Tora, brushing some dirt off herself now that they’re out of the air vents.

“Tatazo, those the intruders! Should stay back! Lila has already alerted Masterpon!”

Something blank and confused spreads across Tora’s face. “Dadapon not… Masterpon of Lila?”

“Tatazo never want to leave Tora, but Tatazo and Lila taken here! Here evil Nopon force Tatazo to finish Lila and take control instead!” He turns back to Lila, a sad look on his face. “It too late to recall alert?”

“Oh, it very too late, meh,” says a voice Nia swears she recognizes. She and the others turn to the source, only to find two very familiar-looking Nopon at the entrance to the room.

“Chairman Bana?” Rex says aloud in his shock, eyes widened in shock. “What are you doing with all these artificial Blades?”

“Oh, it Rex,” Bana says flippantly, barely sparing the boy a glance. “How lovely to see you after you survive job you never supposed to survive! You really do exceed expectations!”

“Oh yeah, you do owe me another hundred thousand gold, don’t you?”

“Meh!” Bana nearly drops the button in his wing in shock. “This exactly what Bana afraid of! But that not point right now. You save Bana trouble of sending Lila to track down—now Bana get original ether furnace from artificial Blade for free! And Bana will have no debts because Rex going to die here!”

In a situation like this, Nia reasons, it’s best to go with what you know. Having no room to mess up, she reaches for the rings at her waist, tossing one to her open and waiting hand. Definitely not the time to practice with Crossette.

Everyone is fully ready to battle, most of all Zenobia, whose eyes are lit up with the promise of a challenge. Bana merely chuckles though, handing something off to the much smaller Nopon beside him, who Nia recognizes as Muimui, the Nopon they’d met yesterday.

“Lila! Kill the intruders!” Muimui declares, pressing some button somewhere.

“Poppi not let you!”

“As if we’d die so easily,” Rex says.

“Meh heh heh… Rex think Lila easy to fight?” Bana chuckles darkly. Well, as darkly as a giant pile of fluff can come across as. “But Lila very powerful. It unlucky that Bana not stay to watch, but really must be going. Muimui! Have Lila handle these ruffians!”

Bana turns and strides out of the room, the door shutting behind him.

Lila launches across the room wordlessly, kicking Rex directly in the chest at full force before he can react. The force sends him to the floor, and with no more indication necessary, everyone in the room except Tatazo, Bana, Muimui, and Lila herself are launching into a proper battle against her.

Nia does what she can, sending a wash of healing towards Rex and helping him to his feet the moment Lila is off him. “On your feet, Rex. Looks like we don’t have a choice but to fight.”

“Wait, Lila!” Tatazo yells as Poppi lunges forward, locking arms with Lila as they propel towards each other. “They not enemies! Not need to destroy!”

“Lila was given order by Masterpon Bana. Lila will not disappoint.”

Tora stands firm. “Poppi! Destroy Lila!”

Poppi keeps her eyes on Lila, forcing back until she manages to fling Lila across the room. What ensues is a fight, artificial Blade to artificial Blade, while the others do their best to stay out of the crossfire. Nia almost doesn’t know what to do in this situation.

Tatazo is almost desperate to stop the fighting, more so with Poppi’s every attempt to beat Lila down further. Tora tosses the shield to Poppi, who homes in, boom biter at the ready, about to destroy Lila once and for all…

And Poppi stops, just at the right moment. Before the drill can shatter Lila’s chassis, before it can destroy the threat, it first has to pierce through Tatazo, who, moving faster than expected, has thrown himself in the way. “Please! Lila is life work of Tatazo! Cannot watch friends destroy her! Even if it mean losing own life!”

Poppi hovers before them, a confused look on her face. She looks back at Tora, tilting her head. “Masterpon. What should Poppi do?”

Tora stammers. “Ahm, well, that is…”

Lila sparks on the floor, some part of her apparently having been knocked loose in the fighting. “Why has Tatazo stopped fight?”

“Because!” Tatazo says, tears rushing to his eyes now. “Lila important to Tatazo! Not want to see Lila destroyed!”

“Tatazo… is…” Lila’s head shudders, twitches in a way that’s almost inhuman. Nia has to remind herself that that is, in part, due to the fact that Lila is not human. “Tatazo is!”

There’s little Nia and the others can do other than stand and watch as Lila’s hand comes to her stomach area and digs into the machinery there. Something comes away with smoke and sparks.

“Lila must give apologies to Masterpon. Lila not in right mind. Lila’s Masterpon is Tatazo!”

With a few more sparks and a few more attempts to speak, Lila falls silent, powering off. Muimui rushes out of the room, not unnoticed by Nia. “Hey, he’s getting away!”

Nia gives chase, followed by her Blades, then by Rex and his Blades, leaving Tora and Poppi to contend with their families.

~

Rex skids to a stop. They’d chased Bana and Muimui into a particularly large room, right past a giant maid robot which, quite honestly, they do not have the time to unpack.

They don’t. Instead, they chase Bana and Muimui further, to a rather desolate dead-end harbor with no other exits, and corner him.

Malos stands menacingly over Bana, who has nowhere left to run, prepared to handle him…

And then they’re interrupted by a loud sigh. Rex glances in its direction, frowning as his eyes fall upon two unfamiliar Drivers and their Blades.

The first Driver is a woman wearing extremely unfamiliar clothing. Her body is mostly garbed in a large, flowy, oversized robe, and then she’s got some kind of stomach protector going on, and overall, Rex has zero idea of what to make of the ensemble. She leans dangerously on her weapon, and her long black hair seems unaware of how severe the person attached to it seems to be.

“We still have use of him, so how about you do us a favor and leave that Nopon be? Well, not that we’ll give you much choice.”

From beside Rex, Nia’s ears stick straight up, and she whorls around in alarm. “Patroka! Mikhail!” Immediately, she’s in a defense stance, her affinity link with Dromarch blaring to life.

“Well, look who it is!” the other Driver, a blond man in maroon armor says tauntingly. “Nia, I’m surprised you’ve managed to survive this long. Could it be that—”

“Mik, shut up,” say Nia and Patroka almost in unison. Nia recoils back, apparently disgusted with how in sync their responses were.

From Rex’s other side, Malos breathes out something that sounds like a question, but it’s clear he doesn’t want an answer from Rex. Or anyone, for that matter.

“So, Nia, these more of your old friends?” Zenobia asks.

Nia nods. “I wouldn’t call them ‘friends’, but yeah, we know each other. Remember how I said one was just out to kill? Well that’s Patroka. Don’t let your guards down.”

Crossette runs away. There’s no other way to put it. Perhaps out of fear, Crossette races out of the room at full speed, leaving a trail of sparks in her wake.

“Crossette, wait!” Nia calls after her, to no avail. Crossette does not wait. Crossette is gone.

Nia lets out an irritated sigh, turning her eyes back to the two members of Torna. “We’ll find and deal with her later.”

Rex reaches for the sword at his waist. “Let me guess. You’re going to fight us no matter what we do, right?” he asks.

Patroka snorts. “You catch on quick, kid. But you’ve got the wrong word there. We’re going to kill you, we’re going to take the Aegis, and we’re going to move forward with our plans. We just came here to pick something up, but I’m sure Pyra and Jin won’t mind if we come back with some extras, too.”

“Besides, where would the fun be if we found you and just left you here?” Mikhail adds. “Come on, Nia. It’ll be like old times!”

Nia rolls her shoulders and her eyes at once. She’s pretty sure they weren’t trying to kill each other back on the Monoceros, but she’ll leave that be for now. “Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

“Fine by me!” Patroka says, grabbing her weapon and lunging forward. Nia manages a dodge, and Rex draws his own weapon and initiates combat.

“Nia, anything we should know about these guys?” he calls over his shoulder.

Nia shakes her head, eyes too focused on the enemy to even acknowledge him directly. “Not that’ll help. Patroka’s strong. Mikhail’s not as deadly, but that doesn’t mean he’s a pushover either. That’s about it. Try not to let them hurt you too badly, I can only heal you so fast.”

“Very helpful, Nia,” Malos jibes.

She rolls her eyes as she turns the focus entirely on her two adversaries, and finally the others join in the fight properly.

There’s not much to say. Rex tries to take out Patroka, since she’s apparently stronger than Mikhail, but that proves to be difficult, and she’s incredibly agile. She moves as though she’s dancing, yet with the severity of a killer, and it takes everything Rex can give to not get impaled all over again.

Patroka is very fond of switching weapons. Her Blade seems keen on having many, and on occasion, Patroka will call his name over her shoulder and swap for one of the four he carries. When she has a spear, she is the most in her element, slicing a thin line along Rex’s jaw that he swears was intended just to threaten him.

“Kid, now would be a good time to break out one of those Arts you used back in Uraya,” Malos calls shortly after Rex finds his jaw cut open.

Rex doesn’t take his eyes off Patroka, looking to close the distance and get in a solid hit when she slams her spear down, releasing a bed of flames that he has to leap away from. “I’m trying! I told you, I’m not sure how I did it then!”

“Well how about you figure it out?”

Rex grits his teeth, searching tirelessly for an opening, and gets back to the fight, doing his best to keep up solid communication with his teammates.

How long Rex faced off with Patroka, feeling his heart in his throat and the threat of death looming over him? He couldn’t begin to tell you, only that when they stop, it isn’t because there’s a victor. Rather, it’s the blue flames that suddenly drive a clear line across the ground between the Aegis party and the Tornans and forces them to stop. Well, those and the glowing light that washes over both Mikhail and Patroka and holds them back from taking any action whatsoever.

Rex dares a glance to the source of the flames, only to find that Special Inquisitor Mòrag, accompanied by Brighid, Crossette, and one unfamiliar Blade have entered the room.

“Sorry I’m late getting back, you guys!” Crossette says, rushing to Nia’s side. “I went to go get Special Inquisitor Mòrag and bring her here! I thought you might want the backup!”

“Crossette, you…” Nia sighs. “I appreciate the effort, but let us know what you’re doing next time, yeah? You can’t just run off without a word.”

“I’m sorry, Nia, I thought it would be the best thing to do!”

“It’s fine, just think about it next time, yeah?”

Crossette nods, taking her stance next to Nia. Mòrag takes this as her moment to stride in.

“I thought I gave specific instructions for you not to do anything reckless,” she says, looking over the situation with her whipswords trailing across the ground behind her. “Had you reported this matter to me, we could have had backup ready and waiting.”

“Ah, calm yourself, Mòrag,” Zenobia says, waving a hand flippantly. “We’ve got it covered.”

“Judging by the state the Drivers are in, I would consider that statement to be false. However, now that we’re here…”

Patroka lets out a sneer. “Why the hell can’t I move? What are you assholes doing—"

The unfamiliar Blade speaks, a serene smile on her face. “You won’t be able to, so long as I’m here. My power allows me to control all Blades.”

“Blades?” Rex echoes, eyes darting to Patroka. “But, she’s not…”

Realization flashes across Nia’s face. “Wait, Patroka’s… oh, that makes sense!”

“What, what makes sense?” Rex asks, relaxing his stance slightly.

Nia glances over at her companions, an uncertain look on her face. “Okay, so don’t ask why I never realized this before, but Patroka’s probably a Flesh Eater.”

“Wait, what?” Rex blinks. “She is?”

Patroka looks briefly as though she might laugh, but she’s more angry than anything. “Will you quit blabbering on and just die already?”

For a moment, Rex is genuinely scared. A large amount of energy visibly gathers around Patroka as the flame walls die down, but just as quickly, it dissipates.

Mikhail, however, is staring directly at the Blade, a strange look on his face.

“Mikhail! Stop standing around and help me!”

Mikhail looks back at Patroka, then makes some motion with his arm. Rising up from out of the harbor in response is a painfully familiar black ship, carried not by a titan, but by its own strength. In fact, it looks awfully similar to one that Rex has seen before, like the one that had fired on him and Nia back at that old ship…

Despite himself, Rex shudders a bit.

“Sorry, Patroka. You can yell at me later, but there’s no way we can go up against Haze like this, and your brother will kill me if I don’t bring you back unharmed.” Mikhail walks over to her simply, sweeping her off her feet and flinging her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“HEY! You know damn well that’s not what I meant, Mikhail! Put me down or I swear I’ll kill you with my bare hands—”

“Patroka, Patroka. We’ll get another chance to deal with them. We already got what we came for today anyway, right? Cressidus, Perdido. Come on.” Mikhail leaps onto the roof of the ship, followed shortly after by the two Blades.

Malos races after them, a light emanating from his chest. Is he… summoning something?

But it’s for nothing. The ship turns and fires on him, giving him just enough time to throw up an ether shield before he’s sniped where he stands. The shield shatters under the force, and for a moment, Rex swears the blast is enough to hurt him where he’s standing. If the blast hurts him that much, he can’t help but wonder how bad it must be hurting Malos.

Regardless, the blast forces Malos to stand down, and the ship leaves at impossible speeds, until there’s nothing left but dust, and the hollow feeling of having failed despite apparent success.

~

Malos can’t take his eyes off Haze. Surely, if Jin remembered him, then so, too, might have Haze, and yet there’s no familiarity in her eyes when she looks at him. She looks right through him, to something beyond—maybe a mission, or a directive, or, or… something.

They’d gone back to Hardaigh Palace at Mòrag’s request, followed by Haze and, surprisingly, joined by the ever-annoying Zeke and Pandoria. Also joining are Tatazo and Lila, as well as some Nopon found being held in the factory, though everyone in this latter group was taken elsewhere to be interviewed. What followed was apparently being requested to report everything they found and saw in that factory, something which Malos has little to no interest in.

Haze is apparently here as an envoy of the Praetor, same as Zeke and Pandoria, and therefore can’t be turned away by the guards in the palace and made to wait outside. As such, the latter two lean against the wall, arms crossed in a twin motion, while Haze sits in a chair beside them at the front of the room, just behind where Mòrag stands, the ever-dutiful Brighid standing at her side.

He’s asked a question, something about the Tornans they fought, and he gives some non-committal answer.

“It would do you well to pay attention, Malos.”

He responds only with a glare. “So what, I’m not interested. Can you blame me?”

“I think you’ll find that I can,” Mòrag responds.

Brighid brings a hand to her mouth with a wry smile. “Lady Mòrag, it might be best to just ignore him for now. The Aegis isn’t exactly known for being very concerned with the affairs of the people.”

“If you really have to know, I was thinking about what to do about the fact that Torna just purchased an uncountable amount of artificial Blades, and the fact that their base seems to be mobile, and made of ancient technology.” He rolls his eyes, finally training his eyes on the other blast from the past. He’s lying, but it’s not like they’d be able to tell.

Brighid is exactly the way he remembers her. Appearance, mannerisms, refined snark, all identical, though she stands closer to Mòrag than she ever did Hugo. Between her and Haze, it’s hard not to see also the impossible.

‘Mik’ is a name he remembers, though he doesn’t associate it with the Driver from Torna that carried away Patroka earlier. He associates it with a child, traumatized, near silent, dedicated in his duties. Following around Lora like a lost puppy, and then sticking by that Gormotti kid (what was his name?) like glue when Lora was busy.

That child should be dead.

Certainly it doesn’t line up with this Mikhail character. Flirtatious, boisterous, sure in himself. All things Malos could see after ten minutes of knowing him. Sure, their hair may be similar, but it just doesn’t fit together. It feels like trying to force two wrong puzzle pieces together in his head. Especially when considering what the two were doing. Mik, supporting the fight against Mythra, versus Mikhail, fighting alongside Mythra, clashes in his head.

But then, Jin is supporting Mythra now, isn’t he? Or, as Nia said before, is Mythra supporting Jin? How could Jin have gone from the Paragon of Torna to the leader of this Torna, this mockery of the Titan Malos himself—

He shakes his head. There’s no way. Haze could be reawakened. Jin… seemed to remember him, so possibly he’s a Flesh Eater. Brighid has been reawakened. Minoth was a Flesh Eater. But Mik was never a Blade, and humans cannot live for 500 years so easily. Mikhail could not possibly be Mik.

Except that Mikhail called Haze by her name, when she had given none.

Malos pinches the bridge of his nose. What in Father’s name does he care, anyway? If Mik is somehow Mikhail, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s the enemy now, and that he’ll cut him down if he stands in the way. That’s that.

A stirring feeling in Malos’s chest taunts him. As if it could be so easy.

Chapter Text

“I’m glad that I finally have the chance to speak with all of you,” Haze says with a gentle smile as she leads Malos and the others out of the city and towards the port. “I’m sure Zeke has already explained this, but—”

“A moment, please!” someone suddenly interrupts. Malos glances at him. One single soldier, trailed by a Blade. Nothing that can’t be easily handled.

The soldier takes a moment to catch his breath. “The Special Inquisitor sent me. There is one matter which she wishes to address before the Aegis leaves Mor Ardain. If you will—”

“Is she coming to speak to us?” Malos interrupts, raising an eyebrow. “Or does she seriously expect us to come running back to the palace at a moment’s notice?”

“Worry not,” Mòrag says, striding up calmly. “I merely sent him in an effort to stop you so I could catch up. I do not plan to make you run around any more than you already have.”

“And?” Malos finds himself placing a hand on his hip, leveling a glare that he figures must seem like he’s looking straight through her. “What do you need from us?”

“You are going to Indol, correct?”

“Yes,” Haze answers. “Praetor Amalthus has requested an audience with the Aegis and his companions.”

“Then, I should inform you that I’ll be accompanying as a neutral party on behalf of the Ardainian empire.” Mòrag says. “Surely you understand my reasoning.”

“I understand completely. As an envoy of the Praetorium, I would not wish to do anything to strain the relations between us and Mor Ardain, and have no objections.”

“Thank you, Fan la Norne. You need not worry about my presence here. I will merely be observing.” Mòrag smiles.

Malos frowns, raising an eyebrow. “‘Fan la Norne’?”

Haze turns to him, as serene as always. “Yes, that is my name.”

“Better known as the Goddess of the Praetorium,” Brighid adds.

“I’m going fucking insane,” Malos mutters. “Not ‘Haze’?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know that name,” ‘Fan la Norne’ answers blankly.

“I see.” Malos retreats into himself. There’s no way she isn’t Haze, not when she looks almost identical to the way she did back then, but to have a different name... And then, notably, a different-shaped core crystal. He frowns, crossing his arms.

With no further objections to their departure, ‘Fan’ leads them to a ship brought apparently for them, and Malos finds his room and retreats to it, staring at the ceiling of his room until he’s not sure he can tell apart the wall from the ceiling where it connects.

Haze’s core crystal is half of what it used to be, literally. Not in the way his is different. She hasn’t given up half to save a life.

Part of her core crystal has been stolen from her. Worse, her name has been stolen from her. Gone is the Haze who fought alongside Lora and Jin dutifully. But then, who is Fan la Norne?

A knock sounds at his door. Malos gets up to answer it, only to find Nia standing there, not accompanied by either of her two Blades. “Can I come in?” she asks, as if she’s going to take ‘no’ for an answer.

He nods, letting her in and leaning against the wall as she takes a seat on the edge of one of the two beds in the room. “What is it?”

“I wanted to ask if everything was okay with you. That, and I need to check you for injuries after that battle with Patroka and Mik.”

“Okay? Obviously, I’m fine.” He stands firm as she inspects him closely. “I don’t know what gave you the impression that something was wrong—”

“Obviously you’re not fine,” she says simply, narrowing her eyes at a cut along his jaw. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but it’s not like you to space out completely, like at the briefing. You kept staring at Fan, too. Did you know her?”

“Not Fan,” he responds after a moment.

Nia hums, bringing ether to her fingertips and focusing. “That sounds like you’re trying to dodge the question.”

“I knew Haze.” The feeling of ether washes over him as though he’s taking a shower after a walk through a wasteland, carrying away the injuries he’s incurred from his connection with Rex like sand in a river.

“Haze?” Nia questions. She’s focused on the injuries she can’t see now, drenching his body in ether to soothe away anything she might have missed.

“Just someone I used to travel with. Fan la Norne’s past life, or one of them, at least.”

“And let me guess. No matter how much I pry, you’re not going to give me anything but more questions.”

He nods, giving her a singular laugh. “Sounds about right.”

“I thought so. Well, I’m going to try anyway. So, you knew Fan five hundred years ago, then? It must be hard to move past the... Haze, you said?”

He nods.

“To move past the Haze you knew. And you used to know Brighid too, yeah?”

Another nod.

Nia backs off a bit, seemingly satisfied that his injuries are soothed away. “But Brighid didn’t bother you so much. At least not so obviously. Were you closer with Haze?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m ‘close’ with anyone,” he grunts. “But I knew her back then, and Brighid hasn’t changed the way Haze has.”

“Really?” Nia raises an eyebrow. “What’s so different about her now?”

“Does it matter? She’s not Haze anymore. She’s someone different, who looks, acts, and talks the same, but she’s still not the Blade I knew.”

“Humor me. What’s different about her?”

“Her core crystal, for one.”

She tilts her head. “Really? What’s wrong with her core crystal?”

“Half of it is… missing. Haze’s core crystal was a diamond shape, not the triangle that’s there now. When a Blade shares its lifeforce with its Driver, the core crystal changes a specific way, yeah? She’d be missing a smaller diamond within the large one, not the entire lower half of her core crystal. It’s more like someone stole part of her core crystal.”

“Stole it? So what’s that mean for her?”

“She can’t ever return to her core, for one thing. Whoever stole her core, they’ve ended her life. If something happens to her, that’s it for her. No more lifetimes, no returning to her core. She’ll die like a human.”

“Not too happy, is it?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Is that everything that’s bothering you?”

He almost wants to ask about Mik. Er, Mikhail. A mystery Nia might be able to shed some light on. But...

“What about you?” he asks in an attempt to deflect. “You’re taking the stuff with Patroka pretty well.”

“Well...” Nia sighs. “I guess I’m just not all that surprised about it. There’s plenty they never told me. I say I wasn’t with ‘em long, but I was with them long enough. They knew about me from the start. Was how Jin found me. I guess… he must have found Akhos and Patroka that way, too.”

“Together?”

“Yeah. Akhos calls Patroka his sister. It’s… probable that they’re both Blades, then.”

“Does Torna have any human members?”

“Nah, don’t think so. Jin’s a Flesh Eater, yeah? The only one left would be Mikhail, and he wasn’t affected by Fan’s power, but he’s apparently known Jin longer than anyone.”

“How do you know that?” Malos asks, his throat feeling dry.

Nia shrugs. “I stumbled across a lady in the Monoceros one time, when I’d just been picked up by them. She was bein’ kept in ice. Long brown hair, young-looking. I asked Jin about it, but he wouldn’t give me an answer. Mik just looked sad when I asked, but later, when we were alone, he told me. She used to be Jin’s Driver.”

“He keeps Lora?” Malos says before he can stop himself. As surprising as that is, Malos can’t help but feel even worse upon confirmation that ‘Mik’ is the same Mikhail he once knew.

“Lora? Is that her name?”

When Malos refuses to answer her, she speaks again. “You must have traveled with ‘em, huh… Must be tough tryin’ to deal with that now.”

“It is. I’d prefer to do it alone.”

Taking the hint, Nia stands, crossing the room to the door and pausing there. “Thanks for answering my questions, Malos. I’m going to go do the health check on the others. Let me know if you need anythin’, yeah?”

Malos doesn’t answer. Nia leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

Nia leaves Malos alone with his past.

~

Feet hitting the ground feels like coming home. Rex can’t help the smile that crosses his face as they dock in Rigitte Harbor.

“Ships can’t get through the ridge, so we’ll have to pass through by foot. There’s a boat waiting for us in Ysheva Harbor,” Fan says.

“I can take us there!” Rex declares.

“What, you can?” Nia raises an eyebrow at him, one hand on her hip. At some point during their trip, she’d gotten changed from her cloaked look to her normal jumpsuit and hood. “Oh, right, come to think of it, you’re from Leftheria, aren’t you?”

He nods. “Yeah. Been a while since I’ve been back home, but I know this place like the back of my hand!”

“Well then, by all means. Feel free to lead the way.”

“Really? You’re not gonna object?”

She snorts. “What’ve I got to object to? You know the area, I don’t. Sure, I can fight and heal, but I’m not trying to lead just for the sake of leading. Go on, mister tour guide, show us the way.”

Rex rolls his eyes. “Right then. Come on, all of you. We’d better get movin’. Lots of places in Leftheria can get dangerous at night.”

He leads the charge through the archipelago, feeling more than safe underneath the Leftherian sky. Familiar wildlife, landmarks, even the air itself is a comfort to him. He can’t help but think about the things he can do. They’ll have to swing through Fonsett village no matter which way they go, so it’ll be a great opportunity to say hello to Auntie Corrinne and the kids…

“I haven’t seen you this happy in a while,” Gramps comments. He clamors out of the helmet to fly alongside Rex.

Rex smiles back at him, stretching casually. “Can’t help it. Haven’t been back in, what, a year? Two?”

“Somewhere in that time frame, yes,” Gramps answers. “You could have come back to visit any time, you know.”

“Well, yeah, I could have.” Rex holds out a fist ahead of him. “But it was better if I didn’t, yeah? Can’t make Auntie Corrinne think something’s wrong because I’m not stayin’ out and doin’ the work I promised. How d’you think she’s doin’?”

“If I know anything about Corrinne, she’s picked up another three kids in the time since you last saw her,” Gramps says with a chuckle.

Rex can’t help but laugh at that. “Architect, could you imagine? I’ll have to find another big job to send back enough money. Maybe collect on that hundred thousand I’m still owed.”

“Rex, I hate to break it to you, but you’re definitely not getting the rest of your payment,” Nia says.

“I know, I know! Still, that would be a huge help.”

Nia stretches as she walks, humming. “I feel like we didn’t really get any closure from all that business in Mor Ardain. It doesn’t feel like it’s over, you know?”

“Well, if I may,” Mòrag says, “it’s not as if Bana has been captured, nor any of the members of Torna that were present. However, the information that we’ve gained from the events there is invaluable, and we were able to stop the artificial Blade production and release those who were being held prisoner as a part of the operation. So you should not consider it a complete loss.”

Nia rolls her eyes in response. “Yeah, right. We did do good, didn’t we?”

There’s something Nia leaves unsaid there, but based on the way she glowers at Mòrag from the safety of her hood, Rex is glad she doesn’t say it. Mòrag doesn’t seem to notice or mind, likely due to the fact that Nia’s face is well-concealed.

The perceived tension from Nia remains as they continue to travel, even on the rare occasion they have to subjugate a feral animal or two coming after them for cutting through their territory. Eventually, they find the cloudway, and Rex leads them through the Cloud Sea itself, looking around in awe. He’ll never get tired of the scenery in the tunnel through the clouds, the amazing creatures clearly visible through the tunnel’s walls.

“Woah,” Nia breathes as she takes in the scenery. “Leftheria’s a pretty place, huh?”

Rex nods. “Alrest is full of amazing things,” he agrees. “I sometimes can’t believe I grew up seein’ stuff like this.”

“I have to admit, you’ve got quite a nice view down here, chum,” Zeke comments.

“Oh, you’re still here, shellhead?” Nia says.

“I know, he can get pretty annoying,” Pandoria says with a laugh.

“Oi, watch it, you!”

“You two seem to get along pretty well,” Rex says.

“Yeah, if you consider getting bullied by my Blade to be ‘getting along’, then sure, we’ll go with that.”

“Oh, you know it doesn’t really bother you. If it did, I wouldn’t do it!” Pandoria smiles, but it’s more mischief than anything else.

Pandoria continues to make playful jabs at Zeke as they walk, and Rex loses himself in thought (as if he needs to think to get them to where they’re going). The routing is automatic, the attention given only to the end that he doesn’t get jumped by some random member of the Leftherian wildlife.

Before he knows it, they’re out of the cloudway, then they’re on the next island, then they’re climbing the steps to Fonsett village. Rex isn’t given a chance to breathe in the air of home before he’s full-on tackled at the waist, sending him staggering to keep his balance.

“Rex! You’re back!” cries the weight around his waist.

He grins, patting Kazuna’s head. “Kazuna! Hey, kid.” He ruffles the girl’s hair, getting a brief moment to recuperate from the tackle before suddenly two more are tackling him, sending him to the ground with all the force three children can muster.

“You didn’t send anything telling us you’d be back!” another voice cries. “We could’ve surprised you!”

“What, are you mad at me?” he laughs. “Come on, come on, let me get up.”

Nia snickers at his predicament. “You’re certainly popular, Rex.”

Kazuna looks up at her, then at the rest of his entourage, eyes wide. “You made friends with a bunch of Drivers and didn’t tell any of us?”

Rex finally pries them off him, standing back up and brushing the sand and dirt off his salvaging suit. “Things got busy. A lot happened. I can tell you all about it tonight, if you promise to be good.”

“We know, we’ll be good.”

For the first time, Rex gets a good look at the three kids. “Mark, is that you? You’ve really grown up!”

Mark nods proudly. “I’ve been eating just like you told me to!”

“Not been giving Auntie Corrinne any troubles, have you?”

All three kids shake their heads in unison, smiling innocently at Rex. “We’ve been good!”

“Well then, we’ll have to ask Auntie Corrinne about that, won’t we? Where’s she at, d’you three know?”

Kazuna points off towards Auntie Corrinne’s house. “She’s about to start making supper!”

Rex gives the house a long look, smiling fondly. It looks just the same as the last time, only warmer, somehow. “Fan, what time do we need to be on the ship for Indol?”

Fan shakes her head. “The ship will wait for us. If everyone would like to spend the night here and rest before getting back on another ship, please feel free.”

“Then, is everyone okay with going to meet Auntie Corrinne and everyone? It’ll be nice to spend a night on solid ground, yeah?”

“I’m fine with that,” Nia says, followed by agreements from Dromarch and Crossette, the latter more excited than the former. “I’m curious, actually. How exactly did you grow up to be like this?”

“Why do I feel like that’s supposed to be an insult, somehow?”

She snorts. “Well, the mind hears what it needs to hear, yeah?”

He narrows his eyes at her, but she just laughs playfully. “Come on, what about the rest of you?”

“No objections here.”

“Tora want to see home of Rex-Rex!”

“I will follow regardless.”

The agreements from Zeke, Tora, and Mòrag leaves only two people left to respond. Rex turns to Malos and Zenobia and gives them questioning looks.

Malos shrugs. “Do what you want.”

In Malos speak, that’s essentially an enthusiastic agreement.

Zenobia smiles her usual smile. “Sounds like fun! I hate being cooped up on those ships, anyway, so I’m all for it!”

“Right then. Come on, let’s go meet her.”

Rex knocks on Corrinne’s door firmly, buzzing with nervous energy.

The door swings open a moment later, Corrinne blinking curiously as she looks over the group. When she finally notices Rex and Gramps among the group, her whole face lights up. “Rex! It’s so good to see you!” She steps forward, pulling him into a hug. He leans into the affection, hugging her back until she pulls away. “It seems you’ve made a lot of new friends. Why don’t you set your things down, and I can try to make enough tea for everyone?”

Corrinne takes a step back, looking over the group and doing a quick head count. “Quite a few of you! All of you, make yourselves at home.”

“Let me help you, Auntie Corrinne,” Rex offers. “We’ve got some catching up to do, after all.”

“Well, that would be nice,” she smiles back.

Rex glances at the rest of the group. “You guys can wait out here. We won’t be long.”

“And what are we supposed to do while you’re catching up?” Nia asks teasingly.

Kazuna, Kirk, and Mark catch Rex’s eye, all three standing off to the side and regarding the group with extreme curiosity. “Those three will keep you company, yeah?”

Nia notices them seemingly for the first time, her ears raising under her hood. “Eh?”

“I’m sure they’ve got plenty of questions for you. Go on, you three. Introduce yourselves. They don’t bite at all.”

The three look back at him with wide eyes, then to the group as if they’re ready to pounce. “I’m Kazuna!” says Kazuna excitedly. “I want to know all of your names! Starting with… you!” She points randomly into the group, directly at Ursula, who lets out a tiny yelp.

Seeing that things will be fine, Rex turns back to Corrinne and follows inside to help her make tea.

“You’ve made quite a few friends since last you were here, Rex,” Corrinne comments as she bustles about the kitchen.

Rex nods. “A lot’s happened. A lot.”

“I saw. You sent us quite a lot of money, and all in one go, too! Why, I thought there’d been a mistake when we received so much gold in a single letter.”

Rex laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I thought there was a mistake when I got the job that paid me that well.”

“And is that Azurda I see there? What have you done to the poor old man?”

Gramps places his paws on his hips as if he’s taken offense to that. “I’m hardly an old man! I clearly don’t look a day over fifty!”

Rex rolls his eyes. “Let me just give you the story of what’s happened since I took that job, Auntie Corrine.”

He starts from the beginning. Getting given an extremely well-paying job, sending off most of the income from the advance, and then heading off for the job. How he’d gone to haul up the target ancient ship, and then he’d been asked personally to accompany the employers, all Drivers but one, into the ship.

He goes into everything important. Finding a Blade in the ship, getting killed, getting brought back to life as Malos’s Driver.

“That’s really what started all this,” he continues. “Jin stabbed me, and Malos thought to bring me back. We haven’t gotten along the best since then, but...” Rex reaches up to get down the pot Corrinne’s reaching for. “I think we’re a lot better than we were.”

Corrinne sighs, smiling at him. “My boy Rex, a Driver. The circumstances could have been much better, but I’m just glad you’re alright now.”

Rex nods. He gestures to the core crystal on his chest, almost embarrassed. “Apparently this replaced my heart and one of my lungs. I’m just glad to be alive.”

“And what are you doing now? Based on your story, I can’t say this feels like a social visit.”

“It’s not.” Rex frowns, backing away from the kitchen area to let her work. “We’re actually just passin’ through. That Blade out there, the one with the staff—she's taking us to meet with the Praetor tomorrow. But, more importantly... after that, we’re going to Elysium. There’s another Aegis, Pyra. Er, Mythra. She’s not as... nice as Malos is.” Is ‘nice’ really the right word here? “She’s trying to destroy Alrest, but if Malos gets to Elysium, he can stop her. Once and for all.”

Corrinne smiles at him. She approaches another pot on the stove, one that must’ve been there when Rex entered the room. “You’ve grown up a lot, Rex.”

He smiles back. “All thanks to you, Auntie Corrinne.”

“Oh, stop. All of this happened while you were out in the world, I had nothing to do with it. I’ve got everything handled here, so why don’t you go save your friends from Kazuna? I’m sure she’s talking their ears off.”

Rex laughs. “Alright, alright. I’ll introduce you to them all properly later.”

Leaving Corrinne’s house immediately results in another tackle to his waist. “Rex! You didn’t tell me you were a Driver! No fair! How come you get nice, pretty Blades like Ursula and Zenobia?”

Rex chuckles, ruffling her hair. “Ah, you found out, did you?”

“Yes!” She looks up at him, glaring as though she’s been betrayed, and leaves her arms wrapped around his waist. “You need to write more, instead of just sendin’ Aunt Corrinne money!”

“It’s not like I was tryin’ to hide it. We’ve been really busy lately, ‘sall...”

The frown etched on her face doesn’t leave, but at the very least, Kazuna stops glaring at him like he offended her entire bloodline. “Fine, I’ll forgive you. For now. And only because you didn’t mean to keep everything a secret from me! But if you do it again, I’ll never forgive you!”

“How could I do it again?” He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not like I’m going to become a Driver again.”

“By keeping really important secrets!” She hits his side hard. “I really won’t forgive you if you do!”

“Then I should probably tell you something now, or else you’ll get mad at me. But stop hitting me!”

She pouts, crossing her arms. “Promise you’ll tell me?”

“I promise. So here’s that secret. Ready?”

Kazuna nods excitedly. “Yeah! Tell me, tell me!”

Rex crouches down so he’s eye level with her, grinning and whispering conspiratorially. “I got killed while I was out salvaging. Got stabbed right through the back.”

Kazuna looks at him, wide-eyed, for a long moment, searching his face. She doesn’t speak for a long moment, and he gives her a minute to process the information.

Then, she reels back and punches him directly in the stomach.

Rex doubles over, grabbing at his stomach as the wind is knocked out of him. “Titan’s foot, what was that for?”

“You’re lying to me!” she declares angrily.

“Really, I’m not!”

“If I can hit you, you didn’t die!”

“Well, I didn’t stay dead! Come on, Kazuna, you shouldn’t hit people, that hurt!”

“Kid’s got a hell of an arm,” Malos comments with a smile on his face as he approaches.

Rex groans, slumping to sit on the floor of the porch, still holding his stomach. “I’ll say. You don’t have to feel how bad this hurts, so consider yourself lucky.”

“I do, actually.”

“Rex didn’t actually die, did he?” Kazuna demands of Malos.

Malos shrugs. “Well, he got better. He was dead for a few minutes, though.”

Kazuna’s mouth drops open. “He was being serious?”

He nods.

“Well, shoot, Rex, I’m sorry! I thought you were lyin’ to me!”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he grunts. “Let’s just… find a place to sit down until dinner, yeah?”

Kazuna nods, leading him over to a chair. “Right. Sorry, again.”

“Nah, it’s no big deal! I gotta be able to take a hit anyway, right? Why don’t you catch me up on how it’s been here in Fonsett while I’ve been gone?”

She nods, grinning brightly, and launches into her stories. Malos takes the chance to slip away, and Rex nods after him as he settles in to listen.

~

Rex stretches both arms over his head. “Man, Auntie Corrinne, that was great. I really missed your cooking.”

Corrinne smiles. “I don’t know if I’d have been able to make enough for everyone if not for Malos’s help. He’s very skilled at cooking, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Rex says with a nod. “He’s always cookin’ for us. I’m still shocked that he offered, though. Usually, he does it alone or he doesn’t bother.”

Corrinne frowns. Rex helps in collecting the dishes, watching Malos’s back. He’d finished eating before everyone else and excused himself to go sit, looking out over the Leftherian wilds in solitude. Rex almost wants to go join him, but the distance feels impossible to cross.

“He’s not a very talkative man, no,” Corrine says. “I figured he just didn’t like me that much.”

He shakes his head, laughing quietly. “No less than anyone else here. I just think he doesn’t like people.”

“You don’t seem to have considered what Malos has had to deal with,” Gramps offers gently.

“What do you mean?”

Corrinne brings the dishes inside, followed by Rex.

Gramps joins them, carrying a single cup. “Malos has lost quite a few people in his time. I wasn’t sure at first, but I think I can say with confidence now that part of the reason Malos is so abrasive is because he’s trying not to grow close to anyone.”

“Really?” Rex raises an eyebrow, setting a stack of plates down on the coffee table.

“I’ll get the rest,” Corrinne offers, “you just get started on washing them up.”

Rex nods to her, and she leaves the room, leaving him to talk with Gramps. “What makes you think that’s why he’s like this, Gramps?”

As Gramps begins to speak, perching on the ledge of a cabinet, Rex removes his gloves, cutting on the water so he can begin to properly start washing the dishes.

“Well, you should know that he wasn’t always quite so standoffish. Not that he was much better when he travelled with Addam, though!” Gramps chuckles. “Back then he wasn’t really certain of how to be around other people and speak with them, I think. He learned quite a lot about people with Addam as his Driver!”

He watches him, rinsing off a plate absently. “So if he was the same then, what changed?”

“Well, you should ask Malos yourself for the details. I won’t tell you everything! But, it is true that Malos seems more like he’s pushing you away than he is being rude for the sake of it. As you can imagine of someone who’s lived for five hundred years, he’s witnessed the loss of many people he considered to be close friends and allies. It’s possible he wishes to avoid further grief.”

Rex frowns, setting aside another plate to dry and reaching for the next dirty plate in the pile. “I didn’t think about that.”

“There’s a lot I think you two haven’t considered about each other. You really should have a proper talk, one on one.”

“We had one, back in Uraya. After everything with Vandham. He wanted to train in Olethro, remember? And we had a long talk about everything, and how upset I was, and I guess I kind of made the whole thing about myself…”

“It’s understandable. No one can expect you to focus on others after witnessing something like that.” Gramps gives him a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, I guess not. Still, we… I think we did get a bit closer. He wants me to figure out how to pull off that Art I used back when we were fighting against Mythra, but I don’t know how I did it to start with.”

“How you did it, huh…” Gramps places a paw on his chin, tilting his head one way, then the other, turning over the thought in his head. “Yes, I did see that you used a new Art. It’s possible it was drawn out in desperation, however…”

He flutters down to balance on the sink faucet, looking at Rex with sharp eyes. “The best way for you to draw that Art back out would be to practice more with Malos. I don’t recommend trying to recreate the conditions that brought out the Art, for obvious reasons. I’m sure none of us want to go through that again!”

Rex snorts. “Well, Zenobia might want to. She seemed really happy about getting to fight Mythra, and she definitely got a good fight out of it.”

He laughs. “I suppose you’re right. Still, that wasn’t what I was talking about. Put simply, you need to talk to Malos, and he needs to talk to you. You’re growing closer, yes, but it would be ideal if you could get to know and understand each other. You are Driver and Blade, and more connected than the average Driver and Blade! You’re connected by that core crystal, after all.”

Rex runs his bare fingertips over the crystal, frowning at the memories connected to it. “Yeah, we are.” It’s the first time he’s ever touched it directly, gloves off—first time he’s ever touched an “awake” core crystal, for that matter. Energy pulses under his fingertips, as if responding to his touch. “It’s so weird to think about. I mean, I’ve pretty much come to terms with it now, but how many people can tell you they’ve died?”

“It is a rarity, yes. But you’re avoiding the subject.”

“I know, I know. It’s just… he’s so… unapproachable, yeah? I’m not sure how to…”

“Talk to him?” supplies Nia, leaning against the doorframe curiously. Her arms are crossed casually, ears perked in interest. “Sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“Oh, Nia. It’s not a problem or anything. But yeah, you’re right. I’m not sure how to talk to Malos.”

“You’ve gotten better at reading him than most of us, I’d wager,” she comments. She pulls off her own gloves, standing beside Rex and taking the soaped-up plate from his hand. “I’ll rinse and dry, you wash.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

“So, you two are in here talking about Malos, yeah?” she focuses on the plate in her hand, pausing to roll up her sleeves.

“Yeah. Gramps was givin’ me some advice on how to go forward, and all that.”

Nia nods. “I get it. I’ve been advisin’ him a bit, actually,” she admits. “Tryin’ to get him to trust you more and all that. Good to see some work’s coming from both sides.”

“Has he been putting in work?” Rex wonders aloud, reaching for another plate. They fall into an easy rhythm, one plate after another. “I don’t know if I’ve noticed.”

“Oh, come on. Sure he has. You two haven’t had a serious talk yet, maybe, but I’ve been getting him to do little things. You think he would’ve agreed to let us help out in Mor Ardain if he wasn’t trying a little bit? You know he was against it.”

Rex nods. True, Malos had been against the investigation at first, but he’s surprisingly acquiesced to their request to stay and help out for a few days, and thanks to that, Tora had found his father and Poppi had gotten an upgrade… It was a good thing he’d listened and let them stay a few days. And they’d even met Fan, and had Mòrag and Brighid and Zeke and Pandoria join them! “Yeah, and that was a really good thing.”

Nia chuckles. “And to think he was worried about what Torna was doing. We only knew what they were doing because we stayed.”

“Yeah…”

“You’re pretty quiet. Is everything all right?”

He nods, swallowing and passing over another plate. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Gramps said that Malos was probably like this because of how many of his friends have died. I just… wonder if it’s even worth it to try to force him to talk to me if he’s got such a good reason.”

A wet hand slaps the back of his head. “Of course it is! You’re his Driver. You’ll never be able to function properly together if you’re thinkin’ like that.”

“But how am I supposed to get him to want to get along with me?”

“Just keep pushing.”

He hands over the last plate and reaches for a cup. “How’d you get so close with Dromarch?”

“We’ve been together for years. We’re well past ‘getting to know each other’. And… we haven’t exactly had the kind of life where you can get away with a half-assed relationship with your Blade, you know?”

“Years?” Rex raises an eyebrow. “Zenobia told me you’d only been Driver and Blade for about half a year.”

Nia freezes. “I… may have thrown that number off a bit. I didn’t know whether I’d be hanging around you lot long enough for it to matter. There’s a lot I’ve been lyin’ to you guys about.”

He stays silent, watching her with a prying look in hopes that she’ll go on. She releases a shaky breath, setting down a cup.

“Do I get an elaboration, or…?”

“Yeah, yeah, working myself up to that.” Nia doesn’t meet his eyes, chewing her lip with a determined look on her face. “For one thing, Dromarch and I have been together closer to ten years than six months. Let’s start with that.”

“Okay, that’s pretty tame. So you’ve been a Driver ten years, since you were… wait.” That math isn’t working in his head. “You must have been what, six years old?”

She turns completely away from him now, so it’s not even possible to read her expression. “It’s not that uncommon for kids to be Drivers, you know, but… that’s only sort of right. Where’d you get that I was sixteen, anyway?”

“I figured you were a year or two older than me. I’m fifteen, so…”

Her head twists to look at him, shock reading on her face. “Fifteen? I knew you were young, but… isn’t that a bit young to be livin’ on your own? How long have you been living alone for?”

“Well, I was never alone. I had Gramps.”

“How long?”

“About five years or so.”

Nia shakes her head, muttering something under her breath that he can’t hear.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Just can’t believe you were workin’ for a livin’ that young. Or that it took me that long to find out.”

“Says the one who’s been a Driver since she was six.”

Hurt— is it hurt?— flashes in her face for a moment, and she sets down the next cup. “You’re coming up with that number based on how old you think I am, but I never said I was sixteen.”

“Well, how old are you, then?”

Nia takes another cup, looking thoughtful. “Never really thought about it, actually. I guess…” She stays lost in thought for a long while. “Ten years with Dromarch, then…” She looks up at him. “Thirteen, maybe?”

“You’re thirteen years old and you’re lecturing me about how old I was? You were a Driver at three?” His jaw drops, and for a moment, it crosses his mind that she’s probably lying. “Are you making fun of me?”

She shakes her head, frowning slightly. “No, it’s the truth. I’m thirteen, but my age isn’t exactly… the same as it is for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“First, you have to promise not to freak out or tell anyone else,” she replies. She almost sounds… scared…

Rex frowns. “Yeah, I promise.”

“Then…” Nia wipes her hands on the towel, turning her back completely on Rex and fiddling with the top of her jumpsuit. “It… might be easier if I show you. I’m not… really…” She sighs, turning back around. She’s opened up the very top of her jumpsuit, unzipping it to maybe halfway down her chest.

Rex almost shields his eyes for the sake of modesty, but she’s not really showing anything particularly… racy. She’s got an undershirt on, after all. What she is showing is a core crystal on her chest, as if it’s offensive, defying rules just by being there.

“You’re a…”

She nods, moving to zip it back up to her neck. “Flesh Eater.”

“Wait, don’t…”

She pauses, looking at him curiously.

“…you don’t need to cover it, if you don’t want,” he finishes lamely. “I actually think it’s really pretty.”

“You think it’s…” She laughs quietly to herself, a bitter smile on her face. “I don’t know why I expected any different from you, honestly.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” he asks. “Why keep something that important a secret?”

She reaches for another cup to wash, as if that’ll save her from the situation she’s put herself in. “Cole might not have mentioned how Indol feels about Flesh Eaters. Last time people knew who I was, it was Torna. And the reason I was with them was because they rescued me from a solitary confinement cell, made specifically to hold people like me. Lined with ether containment nets, so you can’t do anything but sit in silence and wonder when they’ll get around to killin’ you.”

“Oh.” Rex falls into silence, trying to process this. “So you were tryin’ to protect yourself.”

She nods silently.

“Who else…”

“Knows about it?” She shrugs. “Malos figured it out on his own. Dromarch knows, obviously, and I told Crossette. Zenobia, Ursula, and Poppi know because Zenobia dragged me to that hot spring in Alba Cavanich. Can’t really hide a core crystal or ether veins like that.”

“Makes sense.” Rex’s cheeks tinge pink a little bit at the thought, but he refuses to comment on it.

“And then Shellhead and Pandoria know, because they found out by accident when Crossette and I dropped in on them. And now… you two know.”

“So, everyone but Tora, Mòrag, and Brighid. And Fan.”

“Do not tell them,” Nia literally hisses. “I can’t trust them.”

“I don’t think they’re so bad, though. Fan’s really nice.”

Nia’s ears flatten against her head like she’s cornered, and she turns away with bared teeth. “‘Nice’ doesn’t matter. Fan’s with the Praetorium. The Praetorium wants people like me dead. Can you say with absolute certainty that she’ll never decide to let her precious Praetor know who I am?” Her voice is dropped low—loud enough to be heard, but not enough to be heard from outside.

Gramps frowns. “Nia does make a fair point. It might not be the wisest decision to tell someone so close to the Praetor about her Flesh Eater status.”

He frowns. “I guess I can’t say for certain. I get why you don’t want to tell her, but what about Mòrag and Brighid—”

“Vetoed,” she says immediately. “I don’t like them. I don’t even want them travelling with us to begin with.”

“What? Why not?”

“They’re… They arrested me and used me as bait to draw you out! Maybe you’re willing to forgive them, but you’re not the one who got thrown in a solitary confinement cell, left wondering whether they’ll let you live or not!” Nia sets down the last cup perhaps a bit too harshly, eliciting a ‘thump!’ as it hits the counter.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Should I tell them to stop travelling with us, then…?”

Nia falters. Raised ears flick back as she considers the thought. “No, that’s—”

“It won’t be necessary.” Brighid strides into the room, looking between the three. Immediately, Nia seems overcome with fear. “I heard everything.”

Nia stiffens, ears and hackles raising as if she’s prepared to fight. “How much is ‘everything’?” she hisses.

“Enough. You’re a Blade, and you don’t wish for Lady Mòrag and I to travel with you due to our past meetings. Both, I think, are alright and fair.”

“What do you plan to do about it?” Nia continues. The hostility coming from her is almost suffocating—Rex takes a nervous step in the opposite direction.

“Nothing,” Brighid answers. “It makes perfect sense that you wouldn’t like us, after how we’ve treated you. Though I do wish you’d understand why it is we took the actions we did.”

“I don’t even know why you’re here now.”

“At this moment, I came to let you three know that Zenobia and Malos’s sparring session is about to start. Zenobia was insistent that everyone be there to see it, so I came to see whether you were done with the dishes.”

“And so you eavesdropped on a private conversation.”

Brighid brings a hand up to her mouth, giving a small smile. “I did not intend to. It seemed like it was important, so I thought I’d wait outside until you were done, but then I heard ‘Flesh Eater’ and got curious. Then I heard mine and Lady Mòrag’s names.”

“Um, maybe we shouldn’t be—”

“We can continue this conversation later,” Brighid says. “For now, I’ll simply say that while I understand your feelings, Nia, I do hope we can put the past behind us.”

Nia grumbles, zipping up the top of her jumpsuit with a sense of finality and pulling her gloves back on. Rex finishes wiping his hands off. “Come on, Zenobia was really looking forward to getting to fight Malos, so we should go support her.”

“I guess.”

Brighid leads them outside, to the cliffside overlooking the battle arena Malos and Zenobia seem to have decided on. Rex takes a seat next to Ursula and Beary, Gramps on his shoulder. Nia takes a seat next to him, and there’s a brief re-shuffling where Dromarch and Crossette both want to be beside Nia. Eventually, they sort it out. Nia speaks in a quiet voice to Dromarch and Crossette, petting Dromarch’s head in a soothing motion.

Zenobia greets them, hovering in the open air in front of the cliffside excitedly. “Great! You’re all here! I don’t know when I’m going to be able to talk Malos into fighting me again, so I wanted you guys here to see it! And besides. Rex, I need your sword. Or at least, Malos does.”

“Oh, right.” Rex grabs the sword and hands it over, and Zenobia rears back and flings it towards Malos at full force. Malos glares from where he stands in the open field near the beach, catching it without an issue. “Good luck out there, Zenobia.”

“Aw, does that mean I’m your favorite?”

Rex blinks. “What? No, I don’t have a favorite—”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell him!” Zenobia laughs, flying back down to Malos and taking her position.

Nerves settle in Rex’s stomach as the two look at each other, talking too quietly and from too far of a distance for Rex to even come close to being able to hear what they’re saying. “Who d’you think’s gonna win?” he asks, turning to Ursula.

“Oh, um, well, Malos looks really strong…” She looks skyward thoughtfully. “But Zenobia really likes to fight, right? They were both really strong back in Mor Ardain, so I’m not really sure… What do you think, Rex?”

Rex hums, trying to put what happened in Corrinne’s house behind him for now. Like Brighid said, they can talk about it later. And it’s not really his situation to worry about, really. It’s Nia’s.

So why does he feel so worried…?

Without warning, Zenobia and Malos’s match begins. Zenobia flies toward Malos, axe drawn, a clearly excited expression on her face. Malos brandishes his sword, standing his ground, completely unfazed by the battle maniac before him. He blocks effortlessly, forcing Zenobia back.

Rex watches the battle with interest. Zenobia moves fast, too fast, and Malos looks like he moves slower, but he seems to meet every one of her attacks with minimum effort, as if he uses exactly enough speed to move and fight. It’s clear he’s less excited about this, but he’s not using that as an excuse not to take the fight seriously. He’s not even entirely on the defensive.

They both fight so well that the display looks like a complicated, violent dance. Mark crouches down beside Rex as the fight goes on, watching with an open mouth and wide eyes.

“Your Blades are fighting? Why?” he asks, squeezing his way in to sit down.

“Zenobia’s been asking Malos to fight since she was awakened,” Rex explains. “Malos finally agreed. Nothin’ to it, she just likes to fight.”

“Cool. Who’s winning?”

“Hard to tell. They’ve both got a lot of power and a lot of skill. I think Malos is just tryin’ to tire Zenobia out, honestly.” Rex shrugs, keeping his eyes on the fight at hand as he answers Mark.

“Tire her out?”

“Yeah. Zenobia’s got a lot of energy. Malos thinks it’s annoying, so he tries to get her to use as much of it as possible so she’ll be quiet when we’re all trying to get to sleep.”

Mark falls silent, watching the fight. It hasn’t progressed much, except that Malos is now a bit more balanced in the offense versus defense scenario. Rather than block, dodge, or otherwise shrug off every one of Zenobia’s attacks, Malos is retaliating.

It’s ever clearer just how skilled both combatants are from the outside like this. There’s no obvious strain from either of them—Malos reacts like he already knows what’s going to happen, with little attention to the how, little surprise at how she moves. And Zenobia moves like she’s having the time of her life. Swinging her axe with a smile visible from their vantage point, moving about fluidly, as flexible as the wind itself.

It’s honestly not obvious who’s winning. Malos doesn’t even look like he’s trying to, but then, neither does Zenobia, caught up in the experience of the fight as she is. It’s like they don’t even care who wins, they’re just fighting for the sake of the fight.

Then, something happens. Zenobia starts losing. Malos pushes back, lands a solid hit, and sure, she bounces back, seemingly not bothered by his successful hit connecting, but she does seem bothered by the fact that she got hit first. She changes her strategy. A swipe at the leg, not intended to seriously injure, just to catch him off guard. To everyone’s shock, it connects just below the knee with enough force that it might have broken a bone, had Malos not been a Blade.

Rex doesn’t have the time to be amazed at the connection. The moment he sees it, or perhaps a moment after, he lets out a cry in shock of pain, grabbing at his leg. “Titan’s foot, why does that—”

Just as quick as the pain flared in his leg, it disappears, fading away, not completely, remaining a dull pulse in the side of his calf, just below the knee, his right calf, the same as where Malos got hit, and before he has a chance to think about it, Nia is pulling him back from the cliff to take a look, Crossette crouched curiously beside her.

“Where’s it hurt?”

Rex gestures to the side of his calf, an area covered fully by his salvaging suit.

“Can you remove the poofy part of your salvaging suit?” Nia asks. “I want to take a look at the area.”

“I can borrow some shorts from Auntie Corrinne’s, if you take me back there,” Rex says.

Nia frowns, turning over her shoulder. “Dromarch!”

Dromarch comes bounding up. “My lady?”

“Help me out. Can Rex ride on your back over to Corrinne’s? He’s hurt his leg somehow.”

“Well, I…”

She gives him a serious look. “Please, Dromarch?”

“…I had sworn not to allow myself to carry anyone other than my lady, but if you insist…”

“Thanks.” She smiles at her Blade, turning to help Rex up. She carefully supports him as he climbs up onto Dromarch’s back. Ursula and Beary follow to Corrinne’s, where, with Dromarch’s help, Rex limps inside to borrow a pair of shorts from Kirk, the oldest of the remaining boys. He changes, and returns to where Nia waits for his return.

Ursula lets out a tiny gasp at the sight of his leg. It’s not very pretty—an ugly mottled purple spreads out in a vague line at a diagonal on the outer side of his calf, throbbing with pain. Nia immediately pushes him down into a chair, crouching down to inspect the injury.

“How the hell did you manage to get hurt this bad sittin’ down and doing nothing?” Nia chastises, shaking her head. “Nothing’s broken, but Architect, that’s a nasty bruise.”

Rex frowns. “I didn’t even notice it until it started hurtin’ just now—ow!”

Nia pulls back the tip of her finger from where she’d applied a solid bit of pressure to the bruise, frowning. “How could you not notice it? That coloration looks like it’s probably about three days old.”

“Three days?” Rex blinks dumbly. There’s no way he didn’t notice such a nasty bruise for three straight days, right…?

Nia shakes her head. “Ursula, you came along because you wanted to be the one to heal him, yeah?”

Ursula nods, stepping forward. “It’s the least I can do, since I’m not very good at fighting. Let me see.”

Nia steps aside, and Ursula replaces her, a soft glow beginning to emanate from her hair and her core crystal.

Rex half expected the feeling of water washing over him. What he gets instead is the feeling of cooling, almost too cool, like placing ice against the bruise until it’s numb, and yet it ebbs away all the same. Ursula’s hands are held out, hovered just over the injury shakily. “Does that feel any better?”

Rex nods, his grip on the seat of his chair loosening. “Yeah.”

Ursula smiles to herself, continuing until the bruise has almost completely ebbed out of existence.

Nia places a hand on her hip, watching with a frown. “I want to know how you managed a bruise like that.”

He shrugs. “I really don’t know. I must have gotten hurt during the fighting at that factory in Mor Ardain, or something…”

“Well, if Ursula’s got it covered, then everything should be fine. But pay more attention, alright? And don’t try to hide this stuff. You’re surrounded by people that can heal you. Don’t waste it just because you don’t want to be a bother.”

Rex nods. With his leg healed, he goes to get changed back into his salvaging suit, and the healing squad returns to the cliffside.

Rex rejoins the others with his brow furrowed, finding that both Malos and Zenobia are already returning, looking no worse for the wear (though Zenobia appears somehow both visibly deflated and high on excitement). Zenobia zips up to the group, grinning broadly as usual.

“Architect, that was awesome!” she exclaims, looking over her shoulder to where Malos is also approaching. “Malos, we’re got to do that again sometime! You’re so powerful, it’s amazing! They weren’t kidding about the Aegis having a lot of power!”

He raises an eyebrow. “You already want to fight again?” He brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’re impossible.”

“Oh come on,” she says, approaching him and draping herself onto one of his shoulders with an innocent-looking smile. “You can’t tell me you weren’t enjoying yourself, too.”

“I just fought you to get you to shut up about fighting me. That’s it. There wasn’t any ‘enjoyment’ in it.”

Zenobia hums. “Really? You even laughed once while we were fighting down there. You had no fun at all?”

“Really. If I seemed happy, it’s because I let myself think for a minute that I might get some peace and quiet after I beat you. Here I thought you’d be satisfied for at least five minutes.”

She laughs. “Well, you seem a little misguided! Now that I know I can annoy you into helping me get some decent fun, I’m never gonna give you up!”

Malos lets out a groan, roughly shoving her off his shoulder. “I’m going for a walk. Don’t follow me.”

“Thanks for the fight, Aegis boy!” Zenobia cackles after him, giving him a little wave. Malos refuses to look back, and if anything, walks away even faster.

Rex watches him walk away for a few seconds, then turns back to the rest of the group, more specifically to Gramps. “I think I’m gonna go visit my parents,” he says.

Gramps nods in understanding, though the others share questioning looks. He doesn’t mind explaining it to them all later, but right now…

He leaves them, alone, to go visit the graveyard.

Chapter Text

“Are Rex’s parents not fond of strangers?” asks Haze—no, Fan la Norne—as Rex walks away from them. “He was happy to introduce us to his aunt, but...”

Malos shrugs. It doesn’t exactly bother him.

Azurda sighs. “I figured there’d be questions. Rex’s parents aren’t exactly...”

Malos shoves his surprise down, choosing instead to simply accept the information.

It makes sense, in hindsight. He’d latched so quickly onto Vandham, back in Uraya, and he was living and working alone at a pretty young age. Working, Malos gets. But living almost completely alone? And then, never once did Rex mention his parents.

Azurda explains a few more small things to Ha—Fan, then looks over at Malos.

“Malos, can I borrow you for a moment?”

Malos shrugs and follows the Titan. He’s led past Corrinne’s house, down a small path, around, until he’s standing in the entrance to the graveyard, where Rex is on one knee in front of two graves. He’s speaking aloud, quiet, but not inaudible. Azurda gives Malos a purposeful look, as if he’s asking him to stay and listen. To eavesdrop.

He’s got nothing better to do, so he stays, listening intently.

“It’s been a while. I’m a Driver now, which is about the least crazy thing that’s happened this past few weeks.” A bittersweet laugh sounds from the boy. “I died, which I never thought I’d get to say. Got better, though.”

There’s a pause, and Malos almost leaves to go do anything else. But then Rex begins speaking again.

“All thanks to this Blade, Malos. He’s… he saved my life. Brought me back from the dead. We’re going to go to Elysium, like I’ve always dreamed of. Malos has some stuff he’s got to do there, and maybe I’ll find the answers I’ve been looking for. The space necessary to stop all this fighting.

“It’ll be a while yet before I can settle down, and it’s hard. I’m learning more and more every day, about bein’ a Driver. More than that, too. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of Flesh Eaters, probably have, but… I didn’t know what to make of them. Two good people I know now are Flesh Eaters. Cole and Nia. Cole was so up front about it, but Nia… I think she’s scared, of a lot of things. She only just told me, and I’m still not sure what to make of it.

“I don’t know if I’m cut out for this ‘Driver’ thing. Especially not with Malos. He’s a special Blade, called an Aegis, and me? I make a lot of mistakes. I don’t know if I can be a Driver the way he needs me to be a Driver. I can’t even… save one life, as I am. I know there wasn’t much I could have done, and I can’t change what I did that led to it, but… it makes me wonder… whether I’m doin’ the right thing. By bein’ Malos’s Driver, I mean. If… If someone else were…”

A shuddering sigh echoes through the silent graveyard. “I don’t know. I’m sorry for comin’ here so upset, I just need to… Figure it out, I guess. Don’t really have any other option, right?”

A pause.

“Yeah, I’ll figure it out.”

Malos walks away. He’s heard enough.

~

Nia crosses her arms obstinately. Before her, Mòrag and Brighid stand, a dynamic duo, here to ruin her life.

Brighid told Mòrag. Because of course she did. And now they’re stuck staring each other down next to some random small cliff face in a sleepy village in the middle of nothing, because what is Nia supposed to say? Sorry? (Sorry you threw me into solitary confinement. Sorry you used me as bait to draw out my friends so you could try to kidnap one of them on the grounds that he exists. Sorry I’m a Flesh Eater. Sorry I met you. Sorry I’m alive. Sorry I exist.)

No amount of ‘sorry’ would do anything but leave a bad taste in her mouth, here, so she says nothing, merely watching feminine grace clash against military uniform, curves against straight lines, Brighid against Mòrag like they were made for each other. But they’re not clashing. They’re just standing there, complementing and complimenting all at once.

“Brighid tells me you are not fond of our presence in your little group, Nia,” Mòrag says. Nia’s not sure whether she’s imagining the accusation in Mòrag’s tone or not.

“So?” Nia fires back on instinct, feeling the hair on the back of her neck prickle. She wonders if she could take on both Mòrag and Brighid solo. Dromarch went off somewhere, Crossette’s got her nose in that journal. “I didn’t think that had to be clarified.”

“Calm down, Nia, we’re not here to interrogate you. Or hurt you, for that matter.”

“Lady Mòrag and I believe in confronting our issues head-on, rather than the sort of runaround you seem accustomed to.”

If Brighid were trying to calm Nia, she’s certainly achieved the opposite. Ears raise in hostility, and Nia half considers removing her gloves in case she needs to break out the claws.

“It seems there’s a bit of bad blood lingering between us,” Mòrag says evenly.

No shit, Nia wants to say. “Yeah, is that news?” Close enough. “You only threw me in jail and tried to use me to lure out Rex and Malos. Solitary, too. Separate from my Blade.”

“As is the procedure for arrested Drivers,” she replies, not missing a beat. “Rest assured that your treatment was not exceptionally unique, despite your situation.”

Nia sighs. “Look, I really don’t see how that’s supposed to make anything better.”

“The paperwork for your pardon has already gone through, Nia. I do not intend to arrest you again, especially not after the fight in the factory made very clear that Torna does not like you, either.”

“I get it, but I don’t… you can’t expect me to trust you.”

Mòrag sighs, hands clasped coolly behind her back. “I don’t. But I would like it if you would allow Brighid and me to make it up to you. We are both prepared to put the past aside, in favor of keeping the general climate peaceful.”

“So you really do intend to follow us around, then.”

“I do not intend to do anything that would hinder your travels, Nia, unless you and the others plan on causing trouble. I am merely an ambassador of Mor Ardain to the Aegis.”

“He’s not some country or kingdom. He’s his own person, you know.”

“I am starting to see why Zeke appears to have believed that you, and not Rex, were the Aegis Driver.”

Nia snorts. “That’s not very fair to Rex, if I’m bein’ honest. He’s gonna go far, I think.”

“My… apologies. I was intending to pay you a compliment, but it seems it will not be that simple.”

Nia really doesn’t want to give Mòrag or Brighid the leeway required to accept any sort of apology. But… “Why don’t you cut to the chase?”

“Pardon?”

“You know.” As if she’d say it out loud.

“If you are referring to your… status, then yes. I didn’t think it seemed worth addressing, if I’m being honest.”

Nia raises an eyebrow, mild shock reaching her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You are the person you are regardless of how much I know about you. While we are currently not in the best relationship, it would be foolish of me not to pay respect to someone who realized that the path they were on was antisocial at best and took steps to correct that. You may be a Flesh Eater, but you’re also someone who made a large change in your life that must have taken a lot of bravery.”

Nia shrugs, feeling her cheeks tinge at the compliment. She casts her eyes out over the Cloud Sea, at some creature or another cresting out of the clouds in the far distance. Too far to be a threat. Too close to be beautiful for the lack of knowledge involved.

“It’s not like it was that hard. I just… moved on my own, I guess, and then it was too late, and I had to go with Rex or be alone so Torna could come kill me on my own. Or get arrested, I guess.”

Brighid raises her eyebrows. “You… moved on your own?”

Nia nods. “Nothing brave about it. I saw Mythra about to kill Rex after I’d already watched him die once, and I decided to save him. Leaving Torna wasn’t brave. It was just one decision.”

Nia neglects to mention plenty of things. How Torna wasn’t a decision she ever really made. How leaving Torna was one decision, but to stay with Rex and Malos and everyone that comes with them is the decision she has to make every single day, that every night when the others are going to sleep, she has to lay awake and convince herself that she doesn’t need to run anymore, that the fact that she’s tired of running is a good sign that maybe, for once, she should just stay.

Coming out as a Flesh Eater was and is much harder than running from the people who told her to kill an innocent kid will ever be.

Yet, she muses as she hugs her arms to her chest, I don’t suppose it was easy to run away from the only people I didn’t have to run from, either.

As if Jin hadn’t saved her. As if she hadn’t been brought to Torna from the solitary cell that waits between life and death, the purgatory that looks a lot like metal walls, solitude, and an ether net.

“Well, regardless, I do consider it a… decision, worth commending,” Mòrag says. “You left a terrorist group with one decision. And, if you don’t mind me giving my opinion, I do believe that it was the best decision you could have made.”

Nia can’t help but smile. “You’re tellin’ me. Rex and Malos woulda died a thousand times by now if I weren’t around to keep ‘em in check. Tora’d probably still be collecting dust and weird books in his house.”

“You do seem to be among the most rational members of your little group,” Mòrag comments with a small smile.

Nia laughs. “Someone has to be, right?”

~

Later that night, the group has dispersed to sleep. Corrinne can’t house all of them, after all. Her house simply isn’t big enough for her, three children, five Drivers, a hundreds of years-old baby titan, and nearly ten Blades to all sleep inside comfortably. So, they found a way to split it up. Rex, Malos, Tora, Zeke, and, Pandoria have all crammed themselves into spaces inside Corrinne’s house.

Rex and Malos got beds. Tora and the others are on the floor, apparently.

Crossette regrets losing the bet for the girls, in no small part due to the fact that the place Rex showed them to to rest in for the night is small, a little cramped, and puts her in direct danger of sleeping too close to Nia and cuddling her for the night, which would surely result in a situation far too similar to a romantic comedy for Crossette’s tastes. Not to mention what it would do to her heart. (Do Blades have hearts?)

The bet had been simple. A race. Just a race. There was a village guardian stationed in a little nook a small distance from Fonsett, not quite visible from the village, and the first one there won for their group the right to sleep indoors for the night.

The first group, represented by Zeke, had been Rex, Malos, Zeke (obviously), Pandoria, and Tora. Pandoria’s reasoning for joining the guy’s group was that she never left Zeke’s side, and wasn’t about to for this. She also seemed reasonably confident that he would win, as the group’s representative.

Mòrag and Brighid had abstained from the competition. There is an inn in Fonsett, after all, and the Special Inquisitor is not lacking in the funding required to spend the night indoors without troubling anyone.

And then there’s Crossette’s group, the girls plus Dromarch and Beary. (Ursula says that Beary is a bear, and does not have a gender to speak of. Regardless, she does not wish to be separated from them for any length of time.)

After careful deliberation, Crossette was chosen to represent the group. Zenobia is always one for competition, but Zeke’s group had declared it unfair that the girls choose a representative who could more or less teleport. Mostly Tora had complained, but still. The next best bet was the girl with the rocket shoes, especially given that Dromarch lacks the competitive streak to make a race against him truly worthwhile.

And so Crossette, determined not to let her group down, took her place next to Zeke at the starting line. Zenobia had escorted Mòrag, as the impartial judge, to the village guardian, then zipped back once Mòrag was in place to start the race off.

All of Crossette’s preparation and determination could not have prepared her [to] for what happened the moment the race began. She kicked her powered skates into the highest speed possible, and still Zeke was faster, faster than the eye could see, faster than any human had the right to be.

Crossette ate his dust, both figuratively, and literally for the fact that she tripped on one of the tree roots poking out of the path up to the guardian and faceplanted quite gracefully.

And so now the group that entrusted her to take the win sleeps in a small cave on the outskirts of Fonsett, one Rex had led them to and helped them clear away the ivy blocking the entrance. He’d told them something about how this used to be his little hideaway, not necessarily where he lived, and they could feel free to use it for the night.

So of course she can’t sleep, because losing so gracelessly to Zeke and having to sleep in a cave is disappointing, but also she can’t stop thinking about how Nia had smiled at her in the aftermath anyway and the thought of sleeping in the same space as her right now is kind of throwing Crossette off her game.

Instead of sleep, she reads the journal given to her by Mòrag and Brighid, the one found near her core crystal and her old Driver’s corpse.

The thought that she had a Driver before is one she cannot shake for its truth. As much as she wants to be sad, she’s more sad about the fact that she has no emotions or memories of the man. She wrote about him in her past life, in the journal she kept. Loopy, scrawling handwriting fills the pages with tales of adventure, worries about her Driver (his name was “August”) and the relationship he had with someone named “Claudia”, which was slightly strained. Claudia had told the old Crossette an important secret, one of her pregnancy, just before August and the old Crossette had left off for some big journey involving a flower, an oasis, and some big rite of passage that August cared about a whole lot.

The old Crossette agonized for paragraphs and paragraphs about whether or not to tell August about Claudia. He deserved to know, but Claudia was so trusting of her not to tell yet, just to make sure to bring back August safe and sound!

Of course, reading the last written pages of the journal, it’s clear that August and the old Crossette never made it back, that she failed in the duty Claudia had entrusted her with.

That makes the current Crossette sad. But knowing that August is dead? An ambivalent piece of knowledge. One Crossette isn’t sure how to contend with at all. He feels just like a fictional character. In the end, everything in the old Crossette’s journal feels like nothing more than a fun little story with an ending that didn’t get written.

The lack of a proper ending, too, makes Crossette sad.

But she still cannot feel sad about August.

Crossette stops staring at the journal in her hands, returns to the cave, finds herself a space to lay in, and goes to sleep.

~

Nia suppresses a shudder as they disembark in Indol’s port. She never thought she’d be coming here for anything, and now that she’s here, she feels like bolting, like running into the forest with Dromarch and Crossette and holding her breath until the sense of danger passes.

She’s forced to remind herself that they aren’t here for the reason she was almost here in the past. Fan la Norne doesn’t know she’s a Flesh Eater, and neither does the Praetor, and she’s only here to accompany Rex and Malos and support them as a healer.

But Zeke and Pandoria know she’s a Flesh Eater, and they’re with Indol, so what if they decide to betray her secret? What if one of the girls lets it slip?

Even if they’re there for Rex and Malos, even if she’s incognito and not in any particular danger, Nia finds herself mentally planning out every escape route possible as they are led further into the Praetorium by Fan la Norne.

“Poppi has concern,” says Poppi suddenly as they crest the first flight of stairs of apparently many. “Heart rate of Nia far too high for simple stair climb. Is everything alright?”

“Alright?” Nia says, and cringes at how high her voice sounds. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s perfectly fine. Not a problem at all.”

“Nia clearly lying.”

Nia sighs, pausing to lean against a railing overlooking a refugee camp. The others stop for her, sharing concerned looks.

“Friend going to be all right?” Tora asks.

Nia tries her damnedest to control her voice and make it sound normal. “Yeah, really. I’m just not used to climbing stairs, that’s all.”

When she receives only concerned looks and no ease of that concern, she heaves a sigh. “If you lot are really that worried about me, I’ll ride on Dromarch the rest of the way, alright?”

Hearing this, Dromarch wordlessly lowers down in front of her, and she climbs on his back.

“If you’re sure you’ll be all right, then I guess we better keep moving.” Rex frowns, but the group continues up the next staircase all the same.

Crossette hangs back, walking alongside Nia and Dromarch. “Are you sure you’re okay, Nia?”

Nia nods, swallowing thickly. “Yeah,” she answers in a low voice. “I’m just freaking out a bit. Indol’s not a nice place to people like me.”

“Ohh,” Crossette says as the realization hits. “So you’re worried about that, then. We’ll be here to support you, okay?”

“Thanks,” Nia whispers back with a smile. Upon Dromarch’s back, she forces herself to calm her breathing and slow her heart rate, in hopes that neither Poppi nor anyone else will make any other comments on exactly how strung out she is in the presence of Indol.

And so the climb continues. Another flight of stairs takes them past a great view of a fountain plaza turned into a refugee camp, one rife with people who appear to be protesting the existence of Blades.

She turns her eyes back to Fan’s back deliberately. No use acknowledging the people who protest her very existence. The only thing she can do is move forward, and she does, which is much easier on Dromarch’s back.

Fan la Norne leads them to the Praetorium’s inner sanctum, to a small set of rooms off in the corner, where some monk stands guard, eyeing them suspiciously from beneath his helmet until he realizes who they’re being accompanied by. Fan approaches the monk and says something in a quiet voice, to which the monk nods.

Having settled whatever it is she needed to say to him, Fan turns back to their group. “Your audience with the Praetor is tomorrow morning. I will come and get you before you need to be ready. For now, you all have been allocated the rooms here to stay in for free. Feel free to explore the Praetorium and the city tonight.”

“Right. Thanks, Fan.” Rex nods to her.

“I need to report back to Praetor Amalthus now,” Fan says, clutching her staff in both hands, “so I’ll be leaving you until tomorrow.”

Fan gives a graceful curtsey, and Fan turns and walks away.

“Unfortunately, chum, we’ll also be heading off for now. Got some stuff to chat about with Amalthus,” Zeke says.

“Oh, alright,” Rex says, and so Zeke and Pandoria also part from the group, leaving just Rex, Mòrag, Nia, Tora, and Blades to decide what to do with their time.

Nia decides easy. “I’m goin’ to go take a catnap,” she says, sliding off Dromarch’s back and preparing to head straight to her room. “Tired from the trip.”

The others soon decide, separately, to follow Nia’s lead and rest for the night.

~

The morning comes. Nia found herself sleeping little, barely making it to rest before sunlight began peeking through the window, first slowly, then painfully, until she had no choice but to get up and go for a walk just so she could do something.

So she gets out of bed, hooking Dromarch’s rings on her belt just after she secures the belt in place. She doesn’t plan on taking her Blades with her, it’s just a short walk and if she’s on her own maybe they’ll be able to come help in the event that something goes wrong. Not that she can expect that of Crossette. Dromarch, maybe, but she’s still not sure how much she can trust Crossette to be there for her.

The morning air greets Nia like a lie, as if spitting on a night spent staring at a glimpse of the sky through the window. She’d laid there, sleepless, unable to shake the idea of guards storming into the room at any moment and taking her, Dromarch, and Crossette away. Birds break the peace of the air, and the inner sanctum’s landscape is broken only by the rare monk and a silhouette that looks suspiciously like Fan, standing beneath a large mural on the opposing wall.

Not quite feeling comfortable with complete solitude, and her mind tinged with curiosity, Nia crosses the sanctum with a distinct sense of purpose, until she slows to a stop beside Fan, looking up at the mural with a hand on her hip.

The mural is pretty abstract, she thinks. Ambiguous silhouettes, facing away from the viewer, with a titan in the sky and what might have been a rainbow, once upon a time. The mural is cracked in places, dark paint snaking towards the center of the landscape.

“Does she look sad to you?” a voice sounds from behind Nia.

She leaps away with a hiss, claws at the ready and ears at full attention as she turns to who simply must be a guard, ready to—

“Bloody hell, Rex, y’can’t just sneak up on someone like that! What’d you do if I’d attacked you, huh?”

Rex laughs, unfazed by her clearly intimidating display. He sports his own eye bags from whatever upset his attempts at restful sleep. Nia almost wishes she could envy him right now. “You wouldn’t. Besides, you could just heal me. I don’t see much of a problem here.”

The trust stings a little. She turns away from it. “Not everything can be healed, Rex.”

“Not even by you?” he presses.

I’m… not going to respond to that. “What was that about Fan looking sad?”

“I mean, look at her. She looks like you. And Malos, I guess.”

She raises a claw in warning towards him.

“Hey, put that down! I just mean… You sometimes get these moments where you get all spacey and your eyes glaze over, like you’re not really here. Malos does it, too. It’s like… you’re thinking about something that happened a long time ago, I guess.”

“Wasn’t that long, for me. But Malos and Fan have prob’ly lived a lot longer than I have, so… I dunno, maybe. Dunno what someone like her has to think about, but who knows?” She eyes him out of the corner of her eye, lips quirking in a mischievous smirk. “You’re pretty interested in her. Does someone have a—”

“Oh, good morning, you two,” Fan interrupts, seemingly oblivious to the conversation they’d been having. “You’re both up early. Your audience with the Praetor isn’t for some time yet.”

“Right, sorry. We were just going on a morning walk, is all,” Rex answers.

Nia nods. “Always been an early riser, and I thought the air would help me think.”

Fan nods, smiling. “It’s wonderful that the two of you make time for each other, even when travelling with such a large group. Early morning walks are lovely, aren’t they?”

Nia snorts. “You’ve got the wrong idea. I was on a walk when this guy decided to scare the life outta me. It’s nothing like that.”

Rex’s eyes flit between them in confusion for a long moment. “Wait, are you two meaning—no way! Nia’s a friend, that’s all. I’ve never even—” He splutters, cheeks tinging pink as he searches for something, anything to convince Fan of the truth.

Nia rolls her eyes, turning her attention to the mural. “So what’s the story behind this painting? You seemed pretty interested in it before we walked up.”

“Isn’t it grand? They say it was painted way back when Indol was first establishing itself. It depicts the creation of Alrest itself.”

Nia hates to admit it, but Rex wasn’t wrong when he said she seemed sad. She praises the mural with a voice like a sigh, eyes somewhere far away.

“Is something wrong with it?” Nia asks.

Rex manages to recover enough to rejoin the conversation. “You’ve been looking at this painting for a while now, haven’t you?”

She nods just barely. “Yes. Well, no, there’s nothing wrong with the mural. I just…” She sighs. “I can’t help but wonder where I was.”

“Where you… were?”

A single nod. “Yes. I’m sure I was around when they painted this mural, but I have no memories of it. Of anything even close to that time.”

Nia casts her eyes downward. “That’s the fate of a Blade, I guess. Live forever, forget forever.”

“I wonder, who was I then? What did I believe, what did I do? Who was my Driver, and how did we get along? I’ll never know the answer to any of these questions. No matter how hard I try, if those memories are still buried somewhere in my core crystal, I can’t answer them.”

“Well, what about Malos?”

“Malos…” She releases another sigh. “The Aegis did seem to recognize me, but he called me by a name that isn’t mine. Still, it might not hurt to speak with him.”

“Rex, I dunno if—” Nia starts.

“Yeah, he’s been around a while! I’m sure he wouldn’t mind tellin’ you if he’d known you in the past. He seemed pretty excited to reunite with Brighid, after all.”

Oh, it’s so obvious, the ways this could go wrong. Still, when Fan’s eyes light up and she takes Rex’s hand into both of hers, Nia can’t bring herself to object.

“Would you come with me to ask him about it?” she asks, a new life in her voice.

Rex’s cheeks flush at the proximity. “Well, sure, I don’t mind.”

“Oh, thank you so much! I can’t wait to learn more about my past!”

“Er, yeah, well, there’s no need to thank me!”

Somewhere within Nia, there’s amusement at the sight of Rex’s reddened cheeks and flustered responses, but right now, it’s buried. “Hey, Fan.”

“Yes, Nia?” she asks, dropping Rex’s hand.

“You think a lot about your missing past, right? But what about your future?”

“My… future? I suppose I haven’t given it much thought. I serve the Praetor and all of Indol, and I haven’t given anything beyond that much consideration.”

“I mean, someday, you’ll be a different Fan, right? Blades return to their cores and take on new lives all the time.”

“Yes, that’s true. I wonder if the Fan I’ll be in the future will be so concerned with her missing past as I am now.”

“And… what if you didn’t have any future Fans? What if this was the last lifetime you had, your last future?”

Fan pauses at the thought. “I suppose I’d never know, would I? My life would end, and it wouldn’t come back, as if I were human. I’m not a Flesh Eater, though. I’ll come back for quite a few lifetimes yet.”

The corners of Nia’s lips twitch into a frown. “I guess that’s true.”

Malos’s words weigh heavy on Nia’s mind. She can’t see Fan talking with Malos going any way other than south, honest, and she can’t bring herself to mention the missing half of her core crystal, either.

Envy stirs in Nia’s heart.

If Fan doesn’t know, maybe that’s for the best.

Chapter Text

When Crossette wakes, Nia is gone. Dromarch remains curled up on what had been her bed, tail arcing slow and graceful in the air before once again falling to the mattress with a heavy thump. The sun has barely neared risen, casting a hazy light over Crossette’s face as she takes in the morning with a sigh.

She pulls herself out of bed, tying her hair back with a sleepy glance out of the window. The shock of yellow in the courtyard is a comfort—Nia is there, on a morning walk, probably to calm her nerves or to survey the overall atmosphere of the courtyard. That feeling of creeping anxiety at the absence of her Driver must be part of being a Blade, she decides, and she’s got the evidence to prove it.

In the hallway, a balcony overlooks the courtyard with a much better view than their bedroom window. It’s there that Crossette takes the journal that used to belong to her, paging through it while leaned up against the wall.

Within the journal’s pages, Crossette finds herself scouring scratchy, loopy words that fill the space as though it were a challenge. The her-that-isn’t-her-anymore wrote of her old Driver and his friend, and the her-in-the-now eats it up, turns through the pages like she’s found just the right novel to scratch her itch. Her ulterior motive of confirming her past self’s separation anxiety falls by the wayside, and it takes little time to forget where she is.

The click of high heels is what drags her attention away. Brighid stands there, ever-polite, ever-enigmatic smile on her lips, holding her own tome. “It’s nice to see you reading your own journal so enthusiastically.”

“You think so?” Crossette asks, already feeling her horns begin to spark at the attention. “I just thought it would be nice to know what she wrote.”

“What you wrote, you mean.”

She nods. “Yeah.” A pause. “It’s… weird. To think of it like that, I mean.”

“Weird?”

“Weird,” she repeats. “Like… I don’t know. Yeah, you guys tell me, this was my journal, I wrote all this and even experienced these things in the journal. And I don’t think you’re wrong. I mean, the writing sounds like me, it’s not hard to figure out that it’s about me, but these memories aren’t mine. I’m not really that “me” anymore, am I? I don’t know anything about the people I wrote about. I still don’t know all that much about myself now, let alone myself, then. I may as well just be reading a story, you know?”

Brighid laughs, short and quiet. “I had a feeling you’d think as much. When I first read my own journal, I had a hard time understanding how all those past iterations had anything to do with me. But I think we’re both lucky. There must have been plenty of Blades like us, desperately recording their own lives, trying to remember past where our memories will inevitably end. I’m afraid that most of them never get the opportunity we have to read those words, however.”

“I wonder why,” she says, fingertips dancing across the her-that-isn’t-anymore’s words. Words of admiration, excitement, that entices the her-now but that she can’t remember or feel.

Her words aren’t quite what she intended, but Brighid seems to understand what she meant anyways. Crossette casts her eyes across the courtyard again. Her Nia, a shock of yellow, now coupled with a shock of blue and a white that nearly blends with the wall behind it. It seems she’s found conversation in Rex and Fan la Norne.

“Blades live infinitely, but not forever. Longer than most any Driver, but without the memories to show for it.”

Crossette yelps, several sparks sailing from the tips of her horns at the addition of a third voice to their conversation. How Malos manages to approach without alerting her like that, she’ll never fathom, and yet, there he is, standing between her and Brighid and looking thoroughly unamused that she dared to be startled by his sudden appearance. He keeps talking, choosing instead to ignore her little display with his usual flat expression.

“It’s just the way it is. You forget, but you get to keep going. It’s not all that great being able to remember, anyway, you know.”

“Why not?” She clutches her journals—her memories—to her chest, watching his face intently. It’s rare that he ever even talks to her, it seems, and she’s going to take moments like this for all they’re worth. “I’d like to know what happened. I’d like to be able to read my old words and know what they’re talking about. No matter how much I read this old book, I’ll never know how I ended up as this version of me, you know? And I can’t feel the things that I’m sure I felt then.”

“Not every memory is a good memory,” he says bluntly. “I’ve met several people again, several Blades who don’t remember, even though I knew them and remember every second of it. Every story of knowing a person ends in a kind of tragedy.”

“So it hurts, then? Knowing they don’t remember you? Isn’t even a bad memory one worth keeping?”

“Crossette, perhaps you’re being a bit—“

Malos shrugs before Brighid can finish. “By now, I’m used to it. After about 500 years, you have to get used to the idea that no one you knew is going to remember you anymore. In my case, I also have to get used to the fact that a lot of people I’ve never met know who I am. It’s just a part of living. But I think most people would be damaged by holding onto all that emotional shit.”

Brighid studies his face, her arms crossed delicately across her chest. “You knew Fan la Norne before, didn’t you? Both of us did.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Not by that name.”

“She wasn’t called Fan la Norne before, but I did write of someone who looked very similar to the way I’d describe Lady Fan. Her Driver, as well. And I believe I heard you call her “Haze”, once, which matches with my journal. I can only assume it bothers you that she doesn’t remember.”

“So when I bring it up, it’s rude, but when you say it, it’s fine?” Crossette whines.

“Not that I have to answer to either of you either way.” Malos faces neither of them, now, looking over the courtyard that keeps grabbing Crossette’s attention.

“That’s quite alright,” says Brighid. “You can’t avoid answering yourself, anyway.”

He lets out a sigh, looking just a bit smaller than Crossette’s ever seen him. “It isn’t easy. You two get to move on. You didn’t even really have to do anything to do it—your core crystals did that for you. I’m the one who has to live with all of it.”

“Then live with it.” She’s stern in her tone. “Others may forget, but as I recall from my journal, you used to be a much nicer person. None of this isolating yourself away from your travel partners.”

“What do you think I’m doing right now?” he snaps, turning sharply to face her for the first time since he joined the conversation. “I’ve had hundreds of years to accept what’s happened. Hundreds of years to go over every possible little thing I could to figure out anything—everything—I did wrong back then. I know what I’ve done, I know the stakes, and I’ve accepted that. That doesn’t make talking to someone like you suddenly easy, nor does it make getting close to others again a walk in the park.”

A silence falls between them. Crossette marinates in it, watching Malos’s back. Why did Brighid say that? What was the point of accusing him and being mean like that? In the discomfort, she babbles for something to soften the silence.

“I—I’m sorry. I don’t get it, and I won’t be able to, but things have been really hard for you, right? But I don’t think it’s unfair of you to deal with things the way you are, and I don’t think it’s unfair for us to wish things were different. I mean, you have to remember everything you’ve lost, and we have to deal with the fact that we can never truly remember what we’ve lost. I know my old Driver’s name, but I don’t have any pictures of him in here, and it never occurred to me to describe him at all back then, I guess, so all I know is that he was a man named August. If things had been different, and my journal hadn’t been recovered with my core crystal by pure luck, I wouldn’t even know that. I wouldn’t have a single basic fact about my past. And if I don’t remember, and no one else remembers, you have to wonder whether it ever even counted, you know? You have to wonder why you were even awakened last time, why you were awakened this time.”

“…Your Driver this time is going to live for a while. Flesh Eaters aren’t attached to any Driver, and they don’t keep human lifespans. But I don’t need the lectures on what I need to accept. It’s not like I don’t know I’m being rude to Fan.”

“Oh, so you were aware.” Brighid sounds unimpressed.

“It might be easy for you to accept that you once knew someone when you can’t even remember losing them, but I don’t have that luxury. It’s not that easy for me. I’m facing shit my own way, but thanks for the accusations. Next time, keep your input.”

He leaves them, then, and though Crossette reaches after him, she doesn’t reach far enough. Her thoughts stumble with the realization of the simple truth of the matter—she doesn’t even know where to begin.

~

The innermost sanctum of the Praetorium is ornate, both sparsely-filled and overly-decorated at once. It’s rife with shades of blue and searing white, each decoration, pillar, and wall hanging clinical and gaudy to anyone with eyes. Anyone who also had sense should be able to feel just how uncanny this entire Titan is in every brick and thread it carries. Malos walks in at Rex’s side, allowing the boy to at least operate under the illusion of being the one in control here. In some manners, he is, and he won’t deny that so easily, but at the end of the day, Malos is the one holding the reins here.

Father help them all if he actually has to let them go.

There is a lot of knowledge that Malos still lacks. The events of 500 years ago. The circumstances surrounding his awakening. The circumstances that led Mythra to be the Blade she is, all searing, blinding light. He can’t tell anyone about any of these things, not really, but what he can tell anyone willing to listen is this: Something is not right with Praetor Amalthus.

Mythra’s Driver (a fact Malos tries and fails not to judge him on alone) stands at the very head of the room at the center of the dais, before an equally washed-out sort of throne. The only real color in the room comes from Malos and his travel companions—Nia’s jumpsuit alone brightens it up considerably, while Malos feels like a stain on the entire room by comparison. Haze has escorted them in, a triangle of people, half-anxious, half-normal. She leaves them waiting there, moving to stand a fair ways aside of the man of the hour.

“You must be Rex,” the Praetor says, voice low and slow, eyes trained on Malos’s Driver. He carries the gentle, distant expression of a man dedicated to leading his little religion, but still Malos bristles at it as though the very act of looking at his Driver is predatory.

Rex, in the meantime, chokes on his own spit, stammering out a poor excuse for a greeting. “Uh, yeah, I—yes, your Eminence?”

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard tales. The Driver of the other Aegis, as it were.”

“Y-yeah, I—other Aegis? Hang on, are you—I mean, sorry, um… You’re Mythra’s Driver, then?”

“In a manner of speaking. I haven’t had any sort of hold over Mythra for quite a long time, however.”

“Oh, yeah, uh, of course not. I mean—“ The poor kid’s petrified. Malos glances behind him at the rest of their group, scanning them over. Nia is nearly as bad—in nearly any other situation worth naming, Malos is sure that she’d be snickering and teasing Rex, but here she is now, frozen to her spot, a subtle tremor to the fist she has pressed firm against her chest. Is it really so bad here for Flesh Eaters? Even in front of the Praetor, whose own Blade is a Flesh Eater of his own creation?

No one else seems to be in any state particularly of note. Even Tora is quiet, deferring to the Praetor in this situation and allowing Rex to take hold.

“And it seems the Special Inquisitor has graced us with her presence, as well. You truly are quite the odd group, I see.”

“Yes. Your Eminence. Mòrag—I mean, the Special Inquisitor, she—she’s an emissary. Mor Ardain has, erm, interest in making sure that matters with Malos stay free of political influence. Understandably. Your Eminence.”

“And so she has followed the Aegis here, creating her own form of political influence.” A wry smile crosses his blue lips, a shrewd tilt of his head punctuating his sentence. “But I digress. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

From where Malos kneels, he can see a blank look cross Rex’s face. “I, uh, you sent for us. Your Eminence!”

He can’t help but suppress a small scoff. The noise draws Rex’s attention, and his eyes flick to Malos’s in alarm. He seems to be pleading for any amount of support here.

With a sigh, Malos lifts his head and meets Amalthus’s eyes. “We need a way to access the World Tree. We reach the top, and we can defeat Mythra properly and ensure that Alrest gets the protection it deserves.” His voice echoes throughout the room, and from beside him, he swears nearly everyone is holding their breath.

Amalthus raises an eyebrow. “The Aegis of Destruction, in the flesh, here to protect Alrest once again.” There’s a subtle lilt to his tone, a sort of challenge that fails to awaken the anger that rests beneath his surface.

“And we have something, from one of your old Blades. Rex, the dagger.”

Rex panics and reaches for it, probably too quick, in hopes of presenting it before the Praetor. The guards positioned around the room all react in tandem, brandishing weapons with various warning shouts before Amalthus raises a hand to quiet them.

“It’s alright. I’m sure this boy has no intention to harm me.” Amalthus smiles something sinister, a warning tone to his voice as he looks down on the group.

Somehow, this isn’t a comfort. In his head, he thinks, again and again: You can’t fuckin’ trust him. You can’t fuckin’ trust him. It’s the air of confidence he holds, totally unbothered by something everyone else perceived as a blatant threat. It’s not just the confidence of a religious leader knowing he’s surrounded by guards at every corner that will die before they let anyone touch him, but the air of a man who knows he’s untouchable.

This is a man who thinks he can’t die.

Something in Malos itches to prove him wrong.

Rex explains further, in stammering, bumbling words—how he himself wants to reach the world tree and find the path to Elysium. How they’d gotten close before, but been stopped thanks to the artifice running amok at its base. After hearing enough of it, the Praetor raises a hand, never once losing that damned enigmatic smile.

“I will help you. You know, I climbed that World Tree, once upon a time. That was very long ago, however.”

“You did?”

Amalthus nods. “I thought like you, too long ago now to truly be believed. And that idealism did lead me to climb the World Tree. But I did not find Elysium, nor the Architect. I didn’t understand it at the time. Now, I believe it was because I am not worthy of that place.”

Malos’s eyes snap to Rex. The boy looks stunned and shakes his head slightly. “I—I see.”

“Perhaps, however, you will have much better luck than I had. It may even be your Destiny, as the Driver of the Aegis.”

Rex nods. “Thank you, your Eminence. I won’t let you down.”

“Thank you, Rex. If possible, as a favor, I’d like some time alone with your Blade. It’s been quite a long time since I met someone who would remember from back then. I’d like a few moments to reminisce.”

“Uh, yeah! Of course! If Malos is okay with it, I mean. I may be his Driver, but it’s his decision.”

Ugh. Of course it is.

“I’ll go,” he says, privately hoping he doesn’t regret it.

~

“What, exactly, is it that you want from me?” Malos asks in the moments they’re left alone. Amalthus didn’t even bring his guards. He’d led Malos out to the mural in the courtyard, standing below it and staring up wistfully as Malos raised his hackles.

“As I said, to reminisce. You’re one of very few people still alive from that time, after all.”

“It wasn’t exactly a happy time. Unless you’re looking fondly back on the constant fear of death and your Blade running away from you?” Dimly, Malos is aware that he should at least attempt politeness. At least, so long as their comfort and safety depends on the extended grace of this man.

“I was much younger, then. In a way, things were simpler. I certainly had less responsibility to worry over as a Quaestor.”

Malos raises an eyebrow. “You sure don’t look like you were much younger then. I can’t say you’ve changed a day since the last time we met, and that was at least five hundred years back at this point.”

“You have such a clear memory, if you can still remember my appearance from back then. Not that you’ve aged much less gracefully, my dear Aegis.”

Gag.

“How is my old Blade doing, by the way? I hardly expected to hear from him ever again. I thought hope had been lost for a reunion with Minoth.”

“He’s unrecognizable. He’s aged more than you have, actually. I think it’d be impossible to find him unless you knew what to look for.” Like hell he’s giving out information on Minoth’s location. “I had to do some work to his core crystal to help him breathe easier in his old age.”

“…I see. I’m glad you’ve been able to help him.” Still the Praetor keeps his eyes on the mural. “This mural here is about the only thing I know of older than we are. Truly older, with all the memories to carry with it. The techniques used to paint it so that it remained preserved for so long are lost to time—I was never much of an artist, and none remain who know the painters or the techniques to replicate it.”

“So?”

“I have to wonder whether or not we are, in fact, regressing as a people,” Amalthus concluded. “I was worthy enough to be able to climb the World Tree and live to tell about it. I have been worthy enough to take up the mantle of Praetor, and worthy enough to survive my own Blade’s rampage across Alrest. But I was not worthy enough to prevent the loss of these techniques. I was not worthy enough to find Elysium, nor to meet the Architect. Surely, if that boy can open the way, that is a sign of growth. And yet, none will ever manage to create a mural that stands the test of time so well as this. None will ever reach those heights again. What direction are we moving in, do you think, Aegis?”

Malos sighs and tears his gaze away from Amalthus. “That’s not for any one person to decide. Least of all those of us that remember the Aegis War.”

“Perhaps not. But I believe there is value in entertaining the idea.”

“Not everyone thinks like you do, Praetor.”

“And perhaps that is for the best.”

~

Nia’s room has remained unchanged for all this time. It’s taken this long for anyone to set foot in it, as far as Pyra is aware. With Mythra resting, Pyra takes the chance to slip inside and breathe in the scent of her failures.

It isn’t her fault. She can’t blame herself alone. After all, Nia’s defection is a burden shared by all of Torna, and she won’t selfishly shoulder the blame without them. It’s Nia’s fault, too, of course—a weak heart, injured repeatedly, and then holding too much fear within itself to stand strong and stand with those who care for it.

That’s why Pyra is able to come at all. It’s why, now, she sits on her knees in the center of the room, and sends a silent prayer up to Father.

(If Mythra were awake, it’d be interrupted, of course. Mythra doesn’t get it. Doesn’t understand why Pyra still prays to a man who they plan to kill. But that’s Mythra’s plan, not Pyra’s, and so still she prays to him.)

Father, may Nia be well. May she learn from her mistakes and return to her family. May those of us affected recover from her actions. May us all know kindness. Please, Father, if you’re listening…

With that, she sets to work.

First comes boxing up Nia’s old clothes. She didn’t have much, but the clothes won’t do them any good here. With their plans proceeding as they are, they expect to have passage to the World Tree within the month, and then all will fall after that. There won’t be time to find someone in Nia’s size to pass her clothes onto after that before they’re all dead, and so into the box they go. Each jumpsuit, top, and bottom gets taken out, inspected—maybe she can use this one, or that one—and, finally, neatly folded and placed away.

Each one drags up a question, a memory at the tip of Pyra’s memory. Patroka stole this for her the day after Jin brought her in. This one Akhos found in Mor Ardain when he went on one of Patroka’s hunting trips. I patched this one up, right here, at this seam. You can even see the thread because I wasn’t practiced at sewing yet. The seam was supposed to be invisible.

It’s precious little. Really, too few clothes for any well-adjusted person to have these days, given the way humans are. Poor, poor Nia. If she’d stayed longer, she could have been given more clothes, even stolen her own. Pyra would have loved to have gone with her, picked out a pretty dress…

It isn’t her fault. She won’t be so selfish as to shoulder the blame alone. Even so…

“Where did we go wrong, Nia? Why did you leave?” Pyra says in a hush as she moves to stand. The box of clothes is set by the door for disposal. In the far corner is Nia’s bed, as soft as they could manage (as they do for everyone in Torna) and a nightstand beside that. The nightstand is the next target.

Her fingers linger on the nightstand drawer. Should she have taken control more, so Nia didn’t have to deal with Mythra? Not that there’s anything wrong with Mythra, but there’s a reason Pyra was created. Someone soft, someone kind, someone to band Torna together. A thousand times already Mythra had reminded her that she had failed. Why even exist, if Nia is to run and betray them anyway? Would Mikhail follow? Jin? Patroka? Akhos? Why was she there at all?

A shrill laugh cuts through the room and puts an end to Pyra’s selfish mourning. Privately, she berates herself at the realization—you are being selfish. You should have seen if anyone wanted to come clear out Nia’s room with you.

Pyra turns to find Obrona floating in the doorway, her trademark mischievous smile resting on her lips. “Hey Pyra. Guess what, guess what!”

“What is it, Obrona?”

“While you were in here moping over Nia, guess went out without telling? Guess!”

Pyra forces a polite smile as Obrona zips around the room, but the worry runs deep. She was created to care. Who is it she should be worrying about now? “Who?”

“I’m not going to tell you, silly, you have to guess!” Obrona jolts to a stop in front of her, knocking her off balance and right into the lamp on the nightstand. Pyra barely manages to catch it and stabilize it, polite smile growing weaker as Obrona throws out her specialty.

The ether map dances out across the room, showing all of Alrest in its own quirky way. Each spot of light a living being, dotting the landscapes of each Titan in such a way that you can mostly figure out the shape of every individual Titan’s livable space from Obrona’s work alone. “You really do have such a marvelous ability, you know.”

“Yeah, I know! So guess! I’ll even give you a hint: here’s us!” She points to the Monoceros on the map, where eight bright, twisted dots linger about. One of them—the one that is not one, but two, overlapping—is the most easily recognized. That’s her, a brilliant red, mixing with and nearly overcome by Mythra’s light, and beside them, Obrona, one of the dimmest three lights they have among Torna. She scans each light carefully, not nearly as practiced in reading them as Obrona, Akhos, or even Mythra.

Three Blades still here. Obrona, Cressidus, and Perdido. If Obrona is here, Akhos can’t be far, and that logic would apply for Patroka and Mikhail, too. Besides, Mikhail is more than occupied working on the Marsanes, and Patroka, despite her spitfire personality, always makes sure someone knows when she leaves and where she’s going. She’s aggressive, not stupid. And it makes sense, too, based on each light of ether floating in their little section of the Cloud Sea.

Akhos and Patroka, despite their differences and Patroka’s declarations to the contrary, are much alike. It comes with being siblings, even if “siblings” is an idea Patroka detests on principle. Mikhail looks similar but dissimilar, owing to his nature and how he came to be with them.

That leaves one possibility for who would go off on their own without a word, and Pyra doesn’t like it. Not one bit.

Akhos slides into the room, and Pyra looks to both him and Obrona with her answer. “It must be—“

Control is wrested from her. She is gone, and not gone, living within Mythra, now. She’s awake. Better think quietly, now.

“Akhos. Obrona. Go after Jin and bring him back,” Mythra demands. It’s always strange, feeling lips move and knowing she’s not the one speaking. “Jin’s strong, but he, of all people, shouldn’t be going anywhere alone. You’re our healers, you go make sure he’s okay. He can finish whatever it is he’s up to, but the second his core crystal is acting up again, you know what to do.”

Akhos nods as Obrona waves away her map. Both leave the room wordlessly, though Akhos takes one last look at Nia’s room before he goes.

With the door closed, Mythra turns on her.

“What were you doing in here while I was sleeping?” she demands.

Pyra freezes in the force of Mythra’s light. She always does. I was going through Nia’s things, she responds. Looking for anything that we can still use that she might have left behind. Someone’s got to tackle this room eventually, right?

Mythra sighs, a heavy thing, and crosses her arms. “Don’t forget that I can look into your memories. You can’t lie to me.”

I’m not! I really was just going through her things.

“I’ll be the judge of that. You take control. And check on Mikhail. See whether he needs any more materials for the Marsanes.”

Just like that, control is back. It comes with a flash, a warmth spreading through her body, and a sense of relief in the neck where the weight of Mythra’s hair falls away. She breathes, easy and slow, letting it come to her until she’s ready to walk out, into the rest of the ship and all the way to where Mikhail is working.

So much easier to walk when she’s the one walking. So much easier to live when she’s not the one sleeping.

~

Walking away from Malos always seems to have such a strange sense to it. The shard of core crystal in Rex’s chest keeps him alive, but it also wanted, more than anything, to be close to the rest of itself, wanted to be pure, unfettered by petty matters such as distance. It pulled in Malos’s direction, but didn’t protest when Rex walked the other way, out of the building and into the courtyard.

How strange.

The day was spent exploring Indol. The others were quick to break away, quick to find their own methods of self-occupation, and so soon, all who were left consisted of Nia, Dromarch, and Gramps, who remained firmly and happily in Rex’s helmet.

There’s much to do in a city like Indol, but here they are, standing high above and watching it all.

“It was strange, wasn’t it? Talking to the Praetor, I mean.”

“Yeah.” Nia nods along, leaning on the banister beside them. From here, even the refugee camp is difficult to pick out. Rex prefers to watch the Cloud Sea. “I mean, that old man really did know the Praetor after all, right? It’s weird to think of Cole being his Blade.”

“Oh, yeah, that too. I just meant… for a moment towards the end there, I could have sworn I was talking to Mythra, or maybe even Pyra.”

“What?” Nia says. “Get out with that kind of talk. You’re probably just getting worked up over him being her Driver. That, and you were barely functioning during that entire audience. What was all that stammering about, hm?”

Gramps nods, placing two paws on Rex’s shoulder. “I’m sure it’s just the result of your nerves playing on you, Rex.”

“Perhaps your bond with Malos is offering you a different perception of things,” Dromarch says.

Rex frowns. Is that really all it is?

The city below them teems with life. All here because of the Praetorium’s kindness, or otherwise their beliefs. The conversation carries on without him until his mind drifts, and then he finds that he has to ask. “Do you guys think Malos will be alright with him?”

“What? It’s Malos we’re talking about here,” Nia says. “It’s not like he’s a damsel in distress, waiting to be saved from the evil Praetor, you know?”

“Well, yeah, I know, I just…”

Gramps sighs. “Rex, you’re stuck on what you thought you heard, aren’t you?”

He nods.

“Malos is going to be alright. He has faced Mythra at her full power, and come away undamaged. He’s simply having a conversation with Amalthus.”

“But…”

“It’s not uncommon for Blades, especially young ones, to take after their Drivers. In the case of a Driver with a particularly strong will, they can even take on their Driver’s appearance quite strikingly. Mythra had never been awakened before, so it’s natural that some of her qualities might remind you of the Praetor.”

“Right. I guess… that makes sense. Thanks, Gramps.”

~

His first footsteps on Temperatian soil feel no different than his first footsteps anywhere.

(He awakened for the first time to yelling, to the confusion of not knowing who here was his Driver.)

(There were three options: a terrified woman, a terrified child, and the man threatening the child with a knife.)

It was here, in the moments where he prepared himself for the things he had to do, that he always remembered her as the terrified girl, and not as the dying (not dead, never dead) young woman. The thought alone, of protecting girls like her, drove him, and he walked forward.

(Immediately, then, he had decided that he didn’t want to be the man’s Blade. If he guessed wrong, he’d forget it all in a moment, anyway.)

(It took only a second for his sword to pierce the man’s back and come out through his chest.)

Six guards visible. One posted directly in front of the weapon. The others, scattered about the scaffolding and the ground.

(He’d been right in his guess. It was the girl, her face now spattered with the man’s blood.)

(Lora.)

None seemed particularly tough. Certainly, even less tough when Jin was their opponent, when they were hardly noticing their surroundings.

(It had just been them for a while, before she found Haze. The two of them, roughing it in the country, living simple and happy. Haze had only added to the mix. A happy trio. A happy family. He would always, always need that family, then and forevermore.)

He passes five of the guards silently, scarcely casting a breeze where he goes, and plunges his sword cleanly into the back of the sixth. His body drops, barely a noise in the night, and Jin moves for his target.

(Meeting Addam had done wonders for their income. Those who hired mercs categorically paid more when it was going to the Prince of Torna and his friends, rather than to a scrappy young woman with two blades and a rope for a weapon. Their nights, too, had become cozier, even if he felt more distant from her than ever. The Aegis War would end, and again he would have his Driver. Even Haze had noticed his worries.)

A seventh guard standing on the weapon’s back, previously unseen. It takes little to drop him, too, and then he climbs in the cockpit, taking only a moment to figure out the controls. When the weapon moves, he jolts, but not nearly as badly as the five guards he didn’t kill being thrown from the scaffolding.

(In his memories of that day, they had been running for hours, endlessly through unchanging wilderness. Behind them, the weapons advanced, and he heard the Praetor’s voice as though he alone were commandeering the weapons that threatened them. Even felling the Aegis had not been enough. Malos gone, Addam gone, Minoth missing, and as a dying Lora cupped his cheek with the last of her strength, he found it hard to remember, for just that moment, the terrified girl in the shack. He would not forget. He would not forget.)

With a stone-cold stare and a singleminded purpose, Jin steered the weapon towards the Urayan front. There was plenty work yet to be done.

Chapter Text

Brighid finds Mórag (consulting her own journal, it would seem) with practiced ease, the news already perched on her lips. Mórag looks up at her with the usual curious glint, and so she takes it as the cue to speak.

“Were you aware that Senator Roderich is here, visiting the Praetorium?”

“The senator? No, as a matter of fact, I don’t believe that’s on record.”

“Well, isn’t that interesting?” Brighid muses.

Mórag has already cast her journal aside, smoothing herself out. “I assume you know where he is, then?”

“That’s right. I confirmed it before I came.”

“Good. I think we’d better pay him a visit, then.”

“My thinking exactly.”

Brighid leads her to the farthest room this side of the courtyard, where even the door has not been shut in the interest of such things as “privacy” or “protecting Ardainian secrets”. In the time of Mórag’s final adjustment to her appearance, they hear it.

“Senator, a report. An Ardainian Titan Weapon is advancing on the Urayan-Ardainian front.”

In that exact moment, Brighid watches Mórag’s composure shatter. “Just what the hell are you trying to do, Senator!?” she demands as she storms in, Brighid striding after her.

“I, for one, expected to hear of a covert deal with the Praetorium when I discovered you were here off-book, Senator, but this is something else entirely. Care to explain?”

Roderich is a stammering kind of man, both hands in front of him in a weak act of defense as he searches for an answer. “It—It wasn’t me, I swear! I only just heard about it a moment ago!”

“Then why are our people going to war without His Majesty’s decree?”

“His Majesty doesn’t understand the ongoing resource crisis, Special Inquisitor, but regardless—“

“Hold your tongue, Senator. I think you’ll find that you cannot defend your actions with mere—“

Movement behind them at the door. “He says he didn’t order the attack, yeah?” Malos asks, leaning casually against the door frame. “Shut the door if you’re going to be having these kinds of conversations.”

“I hardly think this is any of your concern,” Brighid says.

“And yet, I overheard anyway, so here I am, involved.”

“T-that core—“

“Quiet.” Malos speaks firm, firm enough that even Senator Roderich is forced to listen. “Let’s say this guy isn’t turning against your Emperor’s will or whatever, and no one ordered an attack on Temperantia. Who stands to gain from an Urayan-Ardainian war? Who would have the ability to commandeer a Titan Weapon, bypassing the guards I assume were posted to watch over it?”

Mórag’s eyes widen. “You don’t mean—“

“I do.”

“There you are, Malos!” Another interruption comes, this time in the form of Rex. “Sorry to interrupt. Fan came looking for us. We’re to report to the audience chamber immediately.”

Mórag shoots a stern look Roderich’s way, then meets Malos’s eyes. They share a nod and get moving. No time to waste.

~

“Your Eminence, I understand that this appears to be a deliberate act by Ardainian forces with the knowledge we have now,” Mórag argues before Amalthus even speaks, “but my people would never go to war against His Majesty’s will!”

Amalthus studies her with amusement. “I’m glad that you hold such faith in your people, Special Inquisitor. And that you seem to already understand what has happened.”

She nods, stepping forward. Their entire group has amassed, rather quickly, given how they had all appeared to have spread out across the Indoline Sanctum before this. “It is my understanding that an Ardainian weapon is currently advancing on Uraya’s side of the peace lines. I ask your leave to investigate, with the assurance that whatever is going on, it is not the will of Mor Ardain or His Majesty.”

He quirks a smile her way. “Very well. But I ask that Rex and his friends accompany you in this investigation. After all, it will be quite useful to have neutral parties available as witness to this investigation. Rex, would this be alright?”

“Oh, yeah! Of course! We were probably goin’ to get involved anyways, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, I must say, this is the most efficient audience I’ve ever had. Please, keep me updated on the investigation, and do what you can to stop this.”

Mórag is the first to exit into the outdoors, and the first to speak when her companions follow her. “This really isn’t any of your problems.”

“Like I tried to say before, there’s someone who does stand to gain from this,” Malos says. “I’d bet money on Torna’s involvement.”

“But what if it is coming from inside Mor Ardain?” Zeke wonders aloud. “Sure, there’s a chance Torna’s involved, but we don’t really know anything yet.”

“If there’s even a chance, then I think that makes it our problem, too, though,” Rex says. “And besides, Me, Tora, and Nia, at least, kind of owe her.”

“That is true,” says Brighid. “That water tower cost quite a bit to repair…”

“Either way, I’m headed to Judicium to investigate myself. I won’t require any of you to accompany me, although the assistance would be welcome.”

“How about mine?” Fan stands behind them, clutching her staff in both hands. “I’ve already arranged a ship for you guys to use, but I believe my power would come in handy when it comes to stopping the Titan Weapon from advancing even further once we arrive. I can control Titans just as well as Blades, you know.”

“That’s fine,” Malos says. He begins to walk away. “Thanks for the ship, though.”

“I mean, she could be useful, though…” says Rex.

He shakes his head and keeps walking. “If Torna really is involved, she doesn’t want to be. Let’s leave it at that and get moving.”

Several steps later, he freezes, finding himself unable to move, the familiar feeling washing over his body. Fan walks purposefully in front of him, staring him in the eyes with a firm gaze. “If Torna’s involved, that’s exactly where I want to be. Unless you think I can’t hold my own, even after I helped you fight in Mor Ardain?”

Malos, of everyone alive, knows exactly how well Haze can hold her own. Of course he does! He’s had his fair few fights against Lora and Haze, after all, and even now, her power is strong enough to hold him and force him to look her in the eye. He stares at her a long moment, until she speaks again.

“If you really don’t want me there, that’s one thing. But I think you’ll need my help, and I think I’m supposed to be there. So I would rather that you give me the real reason you don’t want me there.”

He lets out a long sigh. “You really wanna know?”

“I do.”

“Then I’ll tell you a story on the way over. For now, we need to move. We don’t have time to be wasting like this.”

All at once, he can move again, and in the same moment, she’s in his face, reminding him uncomfortably of a certain other wind Blade he knows. “Really? You’ll tell me a story, then?”

“Yes. Now move.”

~

Fan follows him to the bow of the ship, sharp eyes watching Malos’s every move as though he’s going to escape if she looks away. The others afford them privacy, which Malos is silently grateful for as golden eyes stare him down, waiting for him to talk.

They’ll reach Temperantia in less than two hours. He doesn’t have time to put this off, unfortunately, and so he sighs and sits and motions for her to join him on the Titan ship’s floor. When she’s taken the hint and settled on her knees beside him, he makes himself speak.

“I knew you, a long time ago, under a different name,” he begins.

She nods. “I think you called me it before. What was it, again…?”

“Haze.”

(Haze and Lora and Jin, all fitting on one short log. Haze sidled up to Lora, Lora sidled up to Jin. They looked more like a family, then, than Driver and Blades. He never figured out what about them made him feel so twisted inside, not until all three as they were had gone. Every emotion was new to him, then.)

(In his time asleep, he figured out it was called “envy”.)

“Obviously you had a different Driver back then, but you looked almost identical to how you do now. It really threw me when you were there in Mor Ardain out of nowhere.”

“I apologize.”

“Don’t.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

“I just said don’t.” Even as he says it, a dry laugh leaves him. “That isn’t your fault. It’s not anyone’s. Just a part of life as someone like me.”

(Haze and Lora, fighting him, Haze holding him back in time for him to be hit by one of Lora’s attacks. He rolls, too late, when the hold releases, and reappears behind Haze. The fighting is close, but he and Addam fight their absolute best, as do Haze and Lora.)

(The battle ends in a draw, interrupted by another face he sees too often these days.)

“Lora… your Driver, I mean, your old one. She was a really righteous person, and a great fighter. I don’t think she ever meant to be a Driver, but she made it work, and used her power to help the community at large whenever she could. You and her and Jin, the Paragon of Torna, fought by our side at one point, back during the Aegis War. She was the type to scoop up every parentless child and give them a purpose, and she did, once.”

“You and who else?”

“Huh?”

“You said ‘our’. Who else was there?”

He laughs softly. “I thought everyone knew about my original Driver. Addam. The three of us—“

“Three?”

“Father, you’re sharp.” He’s softer than he normally is. Softer than he likes to be. “As it happens, the third would now be your comrade-in-arms, in a way. Minoth. He was Amalthus’s Blade, and joined us in the fight against Mythra. It’s kind of funny, when you think about it.”

(Him and Minoth gathering firewood away from the group. Him and Minoth and Addam, effortlessly tossing weapons around and fighting in such a way that only Lora could have devised of.)

(Him and the kid falling into the same pattern.)

“I guess it’s hard to separate Blades from one another. Now you’re also Amalthus’s Blade, which means you’re also, in a way, comrades with Mythra.”

Fan’s fingers tighten at the edges of her sleeves, pulling the fabric taut. “I… don’t know how I feel about that idea.”

“Sorry.” (He is sorry.)

“But, I really fought the Aegis War? With you?”

“You did.”

“It’s strange. I’ve always been confident in tense situations, but even as a Blade, I don’t fight all that often. Since I’m… since I’m the Goddess of the Praetorium, I’m supposed to leave all of that to our warrior monks until the moment the Praetor truly needs me. To think I was of aid enough that you considered me a comrade during such a gruesome war…”

Fan stands beside him, resting her hands on the rails of the ship. Her eyes are far away, set on the horizon or elsewhere. Malos watches her with a sidelong glance. “I don’t talk about this kind of stuff, you know. Not even with Rex.”

“Not even with your Driver?”

“Yeah. But it felt weird knowing that I remembered all this and you were there and don’t.” He pushes himself to stand beside her.

(The last night before the final battle with Mythra, then. Everyone resting, everyone but him and Haze, sitting side by side in silence.)

“I wonder how Amalthus got ahold of you. I… I wanted to believe Lora died peacefully after I went to sleep, but given the situation with Jin and Torna, I know that’s not the case. But where did he get you?”

Fan la Norne is not Haze. Fan la Norne has no answers for him.

(Side by side one last time.)

Just the two of them, watching the Cloud Sea in silence.

Side by side.

~

Temperantia is best described as a wasteland. The sky churns a storm above blackened, poor soil, the darkness broken up only by the occasional volley of charges fired from a certain rampaging Titan weapon. In those flashes, the landscape is barren, lifeless. They disembark, just out of range of the weapon’s rampage, and it’s there that Poppi and Zenobia break off from the group to scout from above as best they can. According to reports, both from soldiers at the scene and Poppi and Zenobia’s scouting, the weapon has crossed the border.

“Alright. All of you, listen up. You are here accompanying me, and therefore, I will be leading this charge tonight. Understood?”

“Loud and clear!” Crossette says, slapping a salute to her forehead.

“Good. We need to find our way onto the Titan’s back. There should be cables attached to the driving mechanism there—if we can disable those, we can stop the weapon from moving any further and disable it from there. But, listen to me. This needs to be done exactly right.”

“Why can’t Malos just jump onto the back and nuke the thing? He is the Aegis of Destruction or whatever, right?” Pandoria says.

“Normally, I would agree with you. However, if this is not done exactly right, we will all regret it. Those cables carry vaporized Titan bodily fluids. They are highly volatile. I would rather us not learn what happens if Malos’s power meets those vapors, especially imprecisely. The cables have to be cut as close to simultaneously as reality allows.”

“Okay, I’ll bite: why do you know any of this? Why make a weapon like that at all?” Zeke asks. “This whole shebang sounds like a massive liability all the way down.”

“It’s my job to know these things. I refreshed myself on the schematics on our way over. And, as for your latter question… As long as we managed to get the weapon inside enemy lines, it was their problem to deal with. We were never meant to need to disable a weapon like this, due to malfunction or hijacking.”

“That’s straight-up evil, you know!”

Nia snorts. “Why are you even here, Shellhead? Last I checked, the Praetor asked us to come along with Mórag.”

Zeke’s expression is dark. “Those people use the name Torna like it belongs to them. That’s all the reason I need.” After a moment, he brightens up. “Alright, so we know the plan?”

“We absolutely do not,” Mórag says. “Zenobia. I think your axe should do. You’re fast, yes?”

“You know it! What do you need me to do?”

“I want you to be the one to cut the cables. Is your axe sharp enough for it?”

Zenobia tests the edge of the axe in her hand. “I think it should do. For the best chance, though, I could borrow someone else’s weapon for it? One of your swords looks pretty sharp. With that blade and my speed, I’m sure I can cut the cables.”

“Good. That works for me. Rex.”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to back Zenobia up. If, for some reason, she can’t get to the cables, you cut it with Malos’s sword. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“Poppi have question! There large overhang near weapon’s current path. Poppi think friends who can’t fly can use to access back of weapon!”

Mórag smiles. “That’s perfect, Poppi. We just need the chance to get on.”

“I believe that’s why I’m here,” Fan says. “When it passes under the cliff, I’ll stop it. You all can jump onto its back then.”

“After we immobilize the weapon, we’ll need to deal with whoever’s controlling it. The control center is protected by quite a few layers of the best armor our army could manufacture. In other words, a direct assault will not work…”

Rex smiles. “…unless we have someone capable of destroying any material around?”

Malos sighs. “A job for me, then.”

“Exactly.”

“Now, hold on,” Nia says. “What are the rest of us doing, then?”

“Preparing to fight. Whoever’s in that control center likely won’t bow without a fight. All of us need to be prepared for them to attack once they’re out of the control center. You will be especially important if they’re powerful, Nia.”

“Alright. We can’t stand around here planning the whole time. Let’s run and catch that Titan before it gets away from us!”

Mórag nods, and this time, they all bolt for it, Poppi and Zenobia leading the charge. When they come to the cliff, narrowly avoiding the shelling from above, Fan springs into action, stopping the weapon at just the right moment. “It’s stopped!”

Malos heads up the rear of the group—those who can fly, do, but for the rest (minus Tora being carried across by Poppi) it’s a matter of a long, precarious jump. Before Malos makes it, he stops short.

Ursula stands, a good way back, petrified.

He lets out the biggest sigh of his life. “Come on,” he says. “You need to jump.”

“I-I can’t!” she whimpers. Her face is hidden in her hands, a strangled noise leaving her throat. The poor girl is terrified, and being pushed to just do it is clearly making the situation worse.

“I can only hold this for so long,” Fan shouts after them. “Apologies for the rush, but you need to go!”

“We’re going!” Malos snaps. He lets out a growl and scoops Ursula clean off her feet; she’s so tiny that he easily cradles her in one arm. The other hand grabs Beary by the paw and drags him along, running at full speed towards the cliff as he calls his power. “Fan, go! We’ll make it!”

It comes to him like second nature. In a place like this, lent so well to darkness and the ether that comes with, a power encased in rust comes to him, and just a moment after they leap, there they stand, teleported to the edge of the Titan weapon. Ursula has buried her face in his chest armor, a high-pitched whimper emanating from her as he moves to set her down. Moments later, Fan touches down beside him.

Nia grins as she looks back at the four (three? is Beary his own thing?) of them. “Well, look at you, Mister—“

The floor beneath them rumbles. Ursula drops to the ground, hands over her head as something raises up from the center of the platform—a turret, rotund and massive, homing in on their group with practiced ease.

Mórag clicks her tongue. “I see our rogue pilot has figured out more of the controls, then.”

“Oh, so this is all intended, then?” Zeke says.

“Bitch later, Shellhead!” Nia shouts as the turret begins to attack. Their group scatters as they move out of the way—Fan grips her crosier tight and begins to glow with ether as she reaches again for her power.

The turret fires directly at her. Malos is there, throwing up a shield just in time as she releases her power. “No good! I can’t control it!”

“Guess it’s not too attached to the Titan itself, then,” Malos says.

Zenobia zips behind, cursing loudly when she approaches the spot the cables are supposed to be. “Hey, Mórag! There supposed to be a thick casing before we even get to the cables?”

“That’s part of the defenses!”

Rex is moving in, now, and Malos swears and does his best to give chase, despite the bullet hell the crew has found themselves in. Tora leaps in front of him, shield at the ready. “Malos go! Tora and Poppi provide cover!”

“Right, thanks!”

He’s just a touch too late. Malos stumbles as bullets hit Rex square in the leg, keeps going as Ursula moves in for the heal. As she helps Rex to his feet, Malos catches his eye.

“Malos! Change of plans. You need to get into the control center!”

“Heard you!” He shouts and redirects his path. “Zenobia! I need a boost!”

“On it!”

Zenobia’s behind him as he gets close, and when he jumps, she’s lifting him, wind whipping him up the distance he needs. His power is already budding in his hand—when he lands, all ten layers of armor between him and his adversary melt away like butter in the desert.

When the darkness clears, Jin stands among it, rising to his full height as he draws his sword. “Fancy seeing you here,” he says as Malos grabs his own sword.

“I could say the same. How’s the terrorism going?”

Jin doesn’t even dignify him with a scoff. “Is that any way to start a conversation?”

“It works, doesn’t it? Here you are, talking.”

“Not for you. I have no interest in conversation. I’m just here to—“

“Yeah, yeah, you’re here to wreck things, kill people, instigate war between Mor Ardain and Uraya. Too bad none of us here are very interested in that.”

“What do you know about what I’m here for?”

The chaos rumbles down below. The turret is still active, wreaking havoc as the others do their best to fight it through its armor, but Malos doesn’t have the time to worry about that. He moves just in time to lock blades with Jin, neither having much space to move. Barely a step’s leeway in either direction—each new swing from either man threatens to throw one off.

But, no one said this had to be a fair fight.

Zenobia’s there, moving at her top speed to swoop in on Jin. He moves, but doesn’t react quite quickly enough, having been too focused on Malos to notice. Any more awareness, and Zenobia might have been dead this time.

Malos leaps into the control center as Zenobia returns to the fray.

(For once, he’s glad she’s around.)

The controls within are a lot—movement, he can figure out, and he steers away from buttons and switches labeled with pictures for now. Instead, he goes straight for the power, and cuts it.

The chaos outside goes quiet. For good measure, he bubbles out one last burst of destruction, melting away the control center until all that’s left is a hollow shell of an egg.

With that done, Malos himself returns to the fray. He finds Jin on one knee, his mask fallen, sitting immobile as he locks eyes with Fan, who’s making the most of her power. His core crystal is visible now—blood red, not a shred of its original blue to be seen. Malos walks up behind Rex, passing over his sword and speaking in a hush: “Be ready to use that sealing power again at any moment. You can pull it off, right?”

Rex nods.

Fan is speaking, standing tall as she holds Jin in place: “Are you like Malos? You haven’t forgotten anything?”

“That’s right. And you’ve forgotten who you are.”

She nods. “That’s true. I’m not the Haze you fought alongside, am I? I’m Fan la Norne, now, and that comes with not being her.”

“Actually, you’re exactly like Haze,” Malos says.

She nods. “But without the memories. Jin, former Paragon of Torna. I am Fan la Norne, Goddess of the Praetorium. I am taking you into custody for Indol and for the good of Alrest.”

Jin watches her with hatred in his eyes. “And how do you plan on managing that? Let’s say you hold that power—which I happen to know is limited—over me until we reach Indol. How do you intend on keeping me in custody? The moment you lose your hold, I can have at least four of you dead.”

Malos steps forward, already forming another bubble of darkness. He’s running out of energy, but it’s enough, the small bubble he holds. “We could just kill you.”

“Malos,” Rex warns.

“Malos isn’t your property, Driver of the Aegis. Let him make his own decisions. We are not your slaves.”

Rex takes a small step back, stammering in a grasp for words. “Excuse me? No one here thinks that you are. I’m warning him not as a Driver or a Master but as his friend.”

Friend. Imagine that.

“Really? You talk to him like you own him. Like he’s a tool to be used. You haven’t even noticed—“

Rex’s volume is rising, anger seeping into his tone. “I talk to him like—“

“That’s enough,” Malos says. “I don’t need you, of all people, to speak for me, Jin. What I need is to know why you’re doing any of this. The Paragon of Torna, fighting at the side of the woman we once pledged to destroy. You, the former pacifist, agreed that Mythra needed to die. And now look at you. Killing recklessly for her. What happened to you?”

Jin laughs, low and dry. “You could have understood all that and more if you didn’t disappear. You maybe could have even prevented it. Instead, you chose to hide away, while humans razed the world to create slaves out of Blades and Titans. As far as I’m concerned, you sunk Torna, and you sunk its paragon with it. All that’s left is me, and all I had to do was recognize that Mythra had the right of it all.”

“Drop your sword, Jin,” Fan says coldly.

“Do it yourself. You’re so proud of your ability to control Blades, aren’t you?”

Malos, for his part, can see how strained she’s growing. Both of them have used their power a lot today, and she’s running out of energy to use.

“I told you I still had the memories from back then. I know you can’t hold this power forever.”

“Then you know we were comrades, once.”

He has just enough leeway to nod. A bad sign.

“Kid,” Malos mutters. Rex nods and tightens his grip on the blade.

“I also know that your Aegis friend there is the reason the Driver we had was dead.”

Malos freezes. Fan flinches. Her hold remains.

“Why don’t you remember that, I wonder? Why is it that you don’t remember anything? All that you know, your friend there must have told you. But why doesn’t a Blade grow, change, evolve like humans get to, despite our unlimited lifespans? You and I get to live forever, again and again, but it took my becoming a Flesh Eater to be able to take advantage of it. Indol controls all the core crystals. Indol holds your life, and every Blade’s life, in its hands, for what reason?

“Why does Indol get to decide that we have no culture, no future outside of the moments we belong to someone? Why do they track every Driver, so they know where every Blade goes? We, Blades, are the world, and yet, one man exercises control over us all. Why do you think that is?”

There’s a moment where no one’s sure how to answer. Fan watches him with cold eyes, knuckles white on her crosier. Any second now, her hold will be gone. “What do you think happens when you die, Haze?”

Fan stands firm. Though her hold is flickering, though Jin has control enough to raise one arm and point at her, she stands firm. (Rex, conversely, flinches and nearly launches his Art except for Malos’s sharp look stopping him.) “Blades return to their cores when they die.”

The hand shakily pointing at her comes to his forehead, clutching at a core crystal that appears to be visibly throbbing, thrumming with the corruption that turns it red. “Not you, though. Didn’t you ever think it was strange that your clothes don’t fit to your core crystal? Every Blade holds their full core crystal seamlessly. Why is there a gap? Why don’t you?”

She doesn’t have an answer. The light around her flickers, and Fan bites her lip as she struggles to hold it.

“Where is the other half of your core crystal, Fan la Norne? What happened to you?”

In that precise moment, Fan releases, gasping, and Malos shouts for Rex before Jin can move. Something’s up—it must be, because Jin moves with such speed that if Rex had moved a second later, his sword would be through Fan’s chest.

It’s not the Art Malos had wanted Rex to prepare. In fact, it’s not one he’s pulled off before—Jin’s sword bounces off a shield not unlike an ether shield, moments before he would have pierced her. Jin staggers on his feet, ready to move again, but there’s Rex, unleashing the Art that Malos had wanted him to use to begin with.

Darkness wraps around Jin, holding him as he cries out in pain. The pain was unexpected, but not the hold—Jin’s hand is again clutching his core crystal as he staggers. Rex takes a single step forward, glaring. “I won’t let you hurt Fan, or anyone else, as long as I’m alive.”

Jin crumples, his sword hitting the ground.

“Now’s our chance!” Pandoria yells. Zeke and Tora move at once, Poppi rushing ahead, but no one gets very far. A blast of ether cuts them off, hitting Poppi directly and launching her backwards with a spin.

Obrona’s cackle fills the air as Tora rushes to Poppi’s side.

“Poppi! You okay?”

Poppi doesn’t respond.

~

Akhos is by Jin’s side in moments, helping him to his feet and slinging his arm over his shoulder.

Obrona swoops in, delicately collecting Jin’s mask. “Mythra’s real mad that you snuck off!” she chirps. “She sent us after you right away!”

“We’ve been sent to bring you back,” Akhos says, his voice low. “We’ll get you fixed up, alright?”

Obrona floats up and away as Rex swoops in to fight her. “Too late!” she calls over her shoulder.

“Shit! Zenobia, after her! She’s heading for the control center!”

“Already on it!”

Obrona returns a moment later, cackling all the while. “You’re too late! Let’s go, Akhos!”

“Well then, we should be going. Rehearsal’s over, children!” Akhos’s voice sings across the weapon’s back, and before anyone can stop him, all three are gone. The turret roars to life, and Zenobia gives up her chase quickly in favor of dealing with the bullets raining on them once again.

Ursula backs up Rex, Zenobia draws attention, and Malos moves. He’s nearing his limits, but he’s got one more good Eater left in him, and he leaps for it, letting the last of the turret disintegrate and fall away.

When the dust clears, there they are, catching their breath in the aftermath. Tora still cradles Poppi, whose arm is mangled, twitching with an overload of energy.

“How’s Poppi?” Nia asks as she comes to sit beside them.

“It no good. Arm of Poppi damaged beyond repair… meh… will need to replace…”

“Oh, Tora,” Ursula says. “I’m really sorry. If my power worked on Artificial Blades, I’d…”

“It alright. Tora want to be alone now.”

Malos nods at the horizon. “Seems like that’ll be difficult for a bit.”

The first beginnings of Titan ships rise up there, the Urayan army finally mobilized. There’s leagues of them—it seems they took their time gathering up all their forces, rather than a half-hearted counter attack. If only they hadn’t.

“Not just them, look!” Zenobia points behind them. There, the Ardainian army has risen itself, as well.

“What the hell are we supposed to do about that?” Zeke asks. “At this rate, they’ll actually go to war over this—“

Before any shots can be fired, before anyone can begin to come to a plan for how to stop this particular shitshow, Indol descends on them all, a savior in the hell, a light in the darkness, blinding.

Chapter Text

All is well. As well as well can be. Indol’s main city now crawls with soldiers, dotting the edges of every street and casting tense glares this way and that. Fan la Norne glances at each in turn, making sure to smile at every soldier she sees equally. She can’t tell whether any bother to smile back—with all the helmets, it’s impossible to interpret their responses, but she does receive a wave or two wave as she goes about her daily duties.

She’s happy that Praetor Amalthus extended the invitation to Rex and his friends to stay even longer after everything. They mill about the city now—just yesterday, she saw Rex salvaging off the port, and she’s caught several of them out in the city, shopping, talking with the locals, buying cookies off of Nazya.

The one person she hasn’t really seen since the Temperantia Incident has been Nia. Fan expected to notice her even more than the others—her bright yellow jumpsuit is beacon enough that if the Gormotti had been leaving her room, Fan’s sure she’d have noticed her. Not even Dromarch and Crossette have been about.

In other words, it’s time for a friendly check-in. Fan has plenty of duties to keep her busy during the day, but she takes time, first, to stop by her room in the Sanctum.

A knock on the door summons her, ears pinned firmly back with Dromarch at her side.

“Oh, Fan,” she says, ears flicking to a more natural position. “You need somethin’?”

Fan shakes her head, offering her signature graceful smile Nia’s way. “I wanted to check on you. I’ve seen just about everyone out and about except for you and Tora. I figured Tora’s busy repairing Poppi, but you…”

“Oh. Yeah, uh, I’m alright.” She rubs the back of her neck, avoiding eye contact. “Just… Place doesn’t feel very friendly, you know? All the anti-Blade protests and all. Just didn’t feel like openin’ myself up to that sort of scrutiny.”

Fan frowns. Indol is meant to be a place of love and light, and here Nia is, shutting herself away from it all. “Well… would you like to take a walk with me? If Dromarch and Crossette don’t mind, it could just be the two of us, so people don’t think you’re a Driver.”

“But, you…”

She shakes her head. “Everyone already knows who my Driver is, so there wouldn’t be any harm in coming with me, right?”

“Well…” Nia chews her lip in hesitation. “Would you two be alright with it?”

Crossette looks up from her book and nods. “Yeah, that’s fine!”

“If my Lady wishes…” Dromarch bows his head.

“Then… sure, Fan, I’ll go on a walk with you.”

~

Malos finds Ursula at Poldis Circle. Well, really, he finds Beary, with Ursula doing her damnedest to hide within his fur and remain unseen. Down in the plaza below, protesters throng, bearing large, inflammatory signs—No more Blades, no more war!. Ursula doesn’t seem to notice him standing there, watching the protesters, and when he finally speaks, she yelps.

“Hey” is all he says.

“Um… hey…”

The awkward silence blooms and withers between them. Malos can feel Ursula’s gaze on him, watching intently lest he make any sudden movements. He feels like he’s dealing with a frightened cat.

“Um. Malos?”

He glances her way, almost tempted to treat her like one. It’d help, he thinks, to limit his movements. “Yeah?”

Though she turns her face away from Beary to look at him, she seems to sink even further into the bear. “Why did you help me in Temperantia? You’re always so… so sure, when you do things. It must have been annoying to deal with me.”

He shrugs. She’ll have to live with the non-answer, except she doesn’t.

“Sorry if it’s a weird or annoying question. I just… it’s hard to watch you and Zenobia. You’re both so sure of yourselves. You didn’t even hesitate to just jump off of a cliff, just did it without a second thought. I guess… for me, I focus too much on everything that could go wrong. I’d like it if I could do things like you, too.”

He isn’t sure what to say. How do you tell someone like that how wrong they are? How do you tell a fragile, delicate child of a Blade to just suck it up and run headlong into her fears anyway? In the long quiet, he contemplates this.

“It’s cute,” he finally says, “that you think I’m not constantly worrying about how things are going to get screwed up. The thing is, you have to learn how to do the least bad thing. Yeah, jumping off a cliff and onto the back of a hulking Titan weapon is scary, and you can’t fall if you don’t jump, not going would have left you to be obliterated by the shelling, or attacked by errant soldiers or wildlife. Worse, you wouldn’t have been able to be there to support Rex and the others. You were able to heal him because you were there. Even Nia can’t get there as fast as someone standing right behind him.”

“But—but what if we’d missed? What if you’d grabbed me and we’d ran and we’d fallen?”

“At least you would have tried.”

“But what if—“

He sighs. He’s completely out of his element here. “You just have to do it. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“…right.” She frowns and leans even further into Beary. “…if I’m being honest, I don’t even know why you’re listening to me now. You don’t really seem… like you care about other people all that much.”

Malos looks out over the refugee camp, the tents, the swathes of Gormotti hungry, poorly-clothed, yelling for any solution to stop the wars that displace those like them. Any solution for the happy. He remembers Lora, then, and the near-mute child who stayed pressed into her side wherever she went.

“If that’s what you think,” he says, “then you haven’t noticed anything about me at all.”

~

“You know, Fan, when you said it’d be fine as long as Dromarch and Crossette stayed back, I didn’t think we’d be…” Nia does her best not to shrink away from it all. There’s little she can do to keep her ears from folding back flat to her head, but she keeps a firm front about it. Too bad most of these refugees are Gormotti. They’ll read her ears like it’s nothing.

Here, in the refugee camp’s heart, Nia feels the vitriol more than ever, though she does her best to understand. She follows Fan, who strides purposefully into the heart of it all, unbothered even by the anti-Blade protesters, who, for their part, seem not to mind Fan in particular.

“As part of my duties, I requested permission from the Praetor to spend time helping in the camp,” Fan explains. She’s slipped a bag off her shoulder, eyes scanning the camp for something in particular. She makes her way to a Gormotti man, who accepts the bag with a single nod and not a word. “I hope this helps. Is there anything the camp is lacking lately?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Health and happiness. The usual. Another sickness’s going around, it seems.”

Fan frowns. “I’ll do what I can within my own ability, and see about getting medicine sent your way.”

He nods. “You know where the sick keep.”

“Nia, do you mind…?” Fan asks, tilting her head.

“Oh. Uh, yeah, ‘sfine.”

“Great! Let’s see what we can do.”

Fan leads her between the tents, meandering towards the backmost wall of the plaza. Before they reach it, a group of children approach, grabbing for Fan with glee.

“Lady Fan!” one of them cheers. “Where’ve you been? We didn’t see you for a long while!”

Fan smiles down at her, resting a hand on the girl’s head. “Sorry about that. I had some business to take care of for the Praetor.”

“Who’s your new friend? She looks strong!”

Nia’s ears flick at the compliment. “You think so?”

“This is Nia. She’s a strong and kind friend of mine. She’s been worried about meeting people lately, so I thought I’d take her to meet the kindest souls in Indol.”

“Ohh. Nice to meet you, Miss! Are you from Gormott?”

Nia hesitates, but finally nods.

The girl smiles a toothy smile. “That’s great! Pa says that’s where we’re from, but I’ve never seen it. What’s it like? Is it really covered in green? Is it really all people like us there?”

Fan laughs. “Now, now. Let’s ask her one question at a time, yes? Let’s find somewhere to sit.”

When they’ve found a secluded enough corner to sit down and talk in, Fan frowns. “Now, hold on. I’ve counted it twice, now, and I’m sure there’s only five of you today. Who’s missing?”

One of the boys, a younger one, wrings his hands together. “Millie’s sick. She’s been coughing for days, now.”

“Oh, no! That’s awful. I’m so sorry I haven’t been here to help. Nia, do you mind if we visit her before we’re done today?”

“Of course not,” Nia says. “I’d be happy to take a look.”

“That’s great! Thank you, Nia.”

Nia smiles, and the pair of them settle in, bearing witness to an absolutely unholy inundation of questions—about Nia, and Gormott, and all the rest of Alrest that she’s seen. Oddly, Nia finds that she can’t help but answer them all with a smile.

“But, you guys went somewhere scary recently, right?” one of the children says.

Fan nods. “It’s… a long story. I’m afraid it’s a bit much for you kids.”

“Ah, we can handle it! Come on, Lady Fan! It’s got to do with why there’s all these soldiers around now, right?”

“Well…”

Nia smiles at her. “I think we can tell them a little. Lady Fan was really cool, you know. She fought with us.”

“Nia!”

Her grin only widens. “Ah, come on, Lady Fan, am I wrong? Y’see, there was this big weapon that started movin’, and Lady Fan came with us to stop it. She’s really powerful, you know!”

Fan sighs and smiles. “Alright, fine. But I get to tell the story, okay?”

“By all means, lead the way!”

Fan launches into the story. It’s sanitized, neglects to mention the grittier details, but it’s perfect for telling to a bunch of ten-or-so-year-olds. Nia interjects only to hype up Fan, add bits of detail that make all of it just that bit cooler.

When all is said and done, Fan sends them off and brushes the dirt away from her clothes. She offers a hand to Nia as she scans the rest of the camp. “We should go find Millie, if you’re still fine with coming to see her. I’d like it if you could take a look at her.”

“I don’t have Dromarch or Crossette with me, though,” Nia protests. “I mean, I’d be happy to look, but there’s not much I can do without my Blades, you know?”

“But you are a healer. Even without your Blades, you can do a lot. Anything these kids can get is important, you know.”

Nia considers it. She’s got the knowledge, even the ability, if she could get to Millie alone. But illness is not injury, and illness cannot be healed the same way. It’d be foolish and even cruel to promise anything, especially alone, when she has to hide what she can do.

“Even if you could look at her…”

Nia nods. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”

~

They trudge back as the sky begins to grow darker. Nia’s heart feels heavier than before she got out of the room, and Fan isn’t faring much better. Nia sighs, prompting Fan to speak.

“Thank you again for looking at Millie,” she says.

“Yeah, of course. There wasn’t much I could do for her, I’m afraid… she’s in a bad way.”

“Yeah… But, at least she got seen by someone! It’s rare that someone with healing knowledge is able to take a look at the sick in the camp. Often, it’s me looking after them, and while I am a healer, myself, I’m afraid I have very little experience in the way of sicknesses. I’m much better for the cuts and bruises than the coughs and hacks.”

Nia smiles weakly at her. “That’s the way it is for everyone, I think. Hard to heal sickness when we don’t even really understand it.”

She could probably do a lot for it, though, with her innate power. That thought nags at her more than anything.

“I’ve known the children in the refugee camp most of their lives,” Fan says. “Many of them were born in the camp. Millie, the girl you looked over? She’s one of them. She’s never known another life, nor her own parents. Many of these children barely know what a doctor is, and illness can destroy them more than anything. I wish I could take her to a proper doctor.”

Nia’s ears droop. “Yeah…”

“Oh! Not that I don’t trust and value your assistance, of course. But you yourself said that there wasn’t a lot you can help with in this situation. Ideally, Millie would be isolated until she’s better, and receiving care from a doctor prepared to aid her. Often… in places like this, it’s rare that the ill…”

“Well, you’ve got resources, don’t you?” Nia says quickly. She hopes Fan catches the underlying message—don’t finish that sentence. Don’t speak that into existence. “Why can’t you get her to a doctor?”

“I may be the Goddess of the Praetorium, but before that, I am the Praetor’s Blade,” she explains with a sad smile. “Praetor Amalthus is the one with the money and power. I may have some say in how things are run on an individual level, and I may occasionally be able to requisition supplies for the refugees, but the Praetor doesn’t like to help those who dedicate themselves to protesting our very way of life.”

“But isn’t that messed up? You spend all day devoting yourself to helping others and doing the Praetor’s work for him, and you can’t even get the money to save a dying girl?”

Fan freezes. “Dying?”

Well. The cat’s out of the bag. “Well, not really dying, so much as… deteriorating. She could pull through, with enough strength and as much help as she can get.”

“I… I see. Then, I’ll just have to work harder to requisition medicine for her! If it’s not too much to ask, I’d like it if you could help, too, whenever you can. Even if you’re not comfortable bringing Dromarch or Crossette, it would be a big help.”

Nia nods. They begin the ascent to the sanctum in peace, but Fan seems preoccupied. Finally, as they reach the second staircase, she asks it.

“…hey, Nia.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember the things Jin was saying to me, back in Temperantia? About my core crystal?”

Nia nods. It’s a strange thing to bring up now, but Nia supposes she, too, would be worrying over an assertion like that. “What about it?”

“I was just wondering if… I mean, do you really think that’s possible? Taking part of a Blade’s core crystal without their knowledge? Taking it at all?”

Nia considers it for a moment. Of course, there’s Rex, with his part of Malos’s core on his chest, but Malos obviously knew about it every step of the way, and chose as much. And besides, Aegises probably work on different rules than regular Blades. The only other example she can think of would be Zeke and Pandoria, but they know, too, even though Pandoria didn’t know at the moment it was happening. But then, that had been Amalthus who…

“I don’t know,” she admits. “But I think it’s possible. Rex has got Malos’s core crystal, after all, and Shellhead has Pandoria’s. But who would have taken yours, then?”

“I don’t know. But…”

Fan trails off, and Nia leaves the sentence hanging there a moment.

“I don’t… know for sure. But I know that it’s been done before."

"I can't say that I'm sure how to feel about that," Fan admits. "The idea that part of me could actually have been stolen..."

Nia isn't sure what to tell her now, and so she tells her nothing. There's nothing to say to that kind of thing.

~

Patroka strides into rooms as though she owns them, though it's not quite at the level of someone like Mythra or Jin. She just has a strong personality, the confidence to walk in and know exactly who she's meant to be in any given room. She strides into this room just the same, followed shortly by Mikhail.

"Pyra, you wanted to see everyone?" Akhos asks now that everyone's arrived. He's supporting Jin, though with much less effort than he had needed before, an arm behind him more as a formality than a necessity.

Pyra nods. "That's right. As usual, I need a report of the ongoing situation now that tensions have been adequately stoked between Uraya and Mor Ardain. Patroka, Mikhail, that's what you were doing, right? You went out to gather information on the change in climate."

Mikhail nods. "That's right. As expected, tensions are high in Indol now that Jin's done his work. Soldiers everywhere."

"Any minute now, someone could get into a fight," Patroka adds with a grin. "I'm sure that we could easily stoke those tensions with just a little extra effort."

"That's true," Akhos says. "It would be pathetically easy to pull the right strings to make a war take place. Word on the street, however, seems to be saying that something else may be taking place at their little series of peace talks. As far as I can tell, there's no reason for us to get involved at all, which is ideal, given our situation."

"Our situation?" Pyra asks, raising an eyebrow. "How do you mean?”

Akhos, too, had done his share of scouting, once he knew that Jin would be alright. That was enough to gather the information, enough to sneak peeks at who would be attending each summit, who was aiding whom, where alliances may fall.

The unfortunate truth was that Fan la Norne was still alive, and quite the busybody. The unfortunate truth was that they would have a hell of a time trying to get anything done within reasonable proximity to her. The unfortunate truth was, it wasn’t worth the risk. He told them as much.

“For one thing, we are only capable of doing what we can do without anyone noticing. Fan la Norne’s continued existence will be a thorn in our sides as long as she’s within range to respond.” He inclines his head to adjust his glasses before continuing. “In other words, leaving this to an outside agitator is preferable for us, since all should be taking place within the confines of Indol.”

In a flash of light, Mythra stands before them, tilting her head in scrutiny. “Are you really sure that will matter? She’s one Blade, and the possibility of something else happening at the summit is just rumors.”

“I assure you, we have evidence to the contrary. Obrona?”

Obrona casts out her map, the pinpoints filling the room. In lieu of Akhos moving to point to the particular spot on the map with Jin still supported on him, Obrona hovers next to Indol and points to one particular ball of light—large and dim, surrounded by those of normal people.

“What do you suppose we’re looking at here?” he asks.

Mythra’s frown is a permanent facial feature, and it deepens as she inspects the offending light. "Not sure. What are you thinking it is?"

"Well, I can't be positive without confirming with my own eyes, but..."

"But?"

"Looks to me like a very large Blade bot," Mikhail says.

"Precisely my thinking. In other words, our old friend may be hatching plans of his own in hopes of turning a profit."

The one fortunate truth was this: no matter how ill-advised it would be for Torna to get involved at this stage, they simply didn’t have to.

~

Mikhail is the one to walk Jin back to his ether chamber. He's spent days recovering, but has plenty more still to do—even Akhos and the ether chamber combined can't completely heal a core crystal such as his. Mythra trails behind them, watching with cold eyes as they go.

"How have you been feeling?" Mikhail asks.

Jin shakes his head. "The usual. I'll be better soon."

"You shouldn't strain yourself so much," he says. "You did good by what you did, but you wouldn't have been any good to anyone if Akhos and Obrona hadn't noticed you left."

Mythra pauses in her gait, arms crossed as she reaches for the right words. "...Look, I get it. I do, Jin."

Jin looks up at her with hazy eyes.

"It's my dream too. And I promised you that we'd make it happen. But..." She hesitates, chewing on her words for a long moment before letting out a frustrated growl. “Ugh, nevermind. Pyra’s taking over. I’m not the one who can talk.”

In a flash of light, Pyra stands before them, looking bewildered. “I, um… Mik, I can take him to the ether chamber. Could you…”

“Oh, yeah. If that’s what you want.” He passes Jin off to her, and they begin to walk as Mikhail departs the other direction.

“Sorry about all this,” she says finally. “I wasn’t expecting… No, nevermind. What Mythra wanted to say, and what I want to say, is this: you do good work. You do really good work. It’s rough feeling like you’re not doing enough, isn’t it?”

Jin grunts, nodding as they reach the door.

“I feel that, too. Especially being Mythra’s other self… When Nia left, I couldn’t help but think about the things I could have done to stop it. To keep a valuable ally on our side. I don’t want to lose any more of us, as selfish as that is. So I want to do everything available to me to stop it.”

For the average person, it is difficult, the process of lifting someone up onto a raised bed. Pyra does it with ease, hooking her arms around him for support that he doesn’t really want. When Jin is settled, she speaks again. “You are an incredibly value member of Torna. No one has ever doubted that. But you’re also sick and hurting, and it’s not going to get better through pushing your limits and fighting your body.”

“I know.”

“Please, Jin. Sit back, get the rest you need to recover. I and everyone else will support you for as long as you need. We’re going to get there, I promise.”

“…alright. I’ll rest.”

She smiles like the sunrise, and he lays his head back, eyes on the main fixture in the room.

Encased in his own ice, hovering forever, decay stopped, Lora looms above them, her eyes closed peacefully. “Your Driver really is beautiful,” Pyra says.

“Yeah. She is.”

“How… how are you feeling about seeing Haze again? You used to be comrades once, didn’t you?”

“I’m trying not to feel anything about it. Haze is gone. All that’s left is that Fan la Norne pretending to be her.”

“Right… Her power is a problem. If we can’t eliminate her, can we recruit her, do you think? It’d be a very useful power in dealing with Blades like Nia and Malos.”

He shakes his head. “It’d take a lot of work. I don’t know if we could convince her before we open the way to Elysium.”

“But we could convince her.”

For a long time, Jin doesn’t answer her. His eyes drift closed, though his ether chamber pod remains open. Pyra almost thinks he’s asleep, then, he speaks.

“…I don’t know. Haze is a strong Blade with a strong personality. She cares for people, humans, more than anything. It would take quite a lot of loss to drive her to see the truth of the world.”

Pyra tilts her head, smiling sweetly. “You were the same as her, once. So, bringing Haze back to you is attainable.”

Jin is quiet for a very long time.

“…I’d like to be left alone now.”

Pyra nods and closes the chamber for him. “Take your time recovering. Let us take care of the rest.”

On her way out the room, she stops and takes one last long look at the pillar of ice at the room’s center, and the woman named Lora resting eternally within.

~

The Indol-ordained Peace Summit, instated in response to the sudden spike in tension between Mor Ardain and Uraya, begins a cold, drizzly, dark morning, with all the biggest names possible in attendance. Queen Raqura, flanked on either side by her attendants, takes her seat directly opposing Emperor Niall and Special Inquisitor Mórag. Further down the table, acting chairman of the Argentum Trade Guild, Niranira, and Zeke, Prince of Tantal sit. At the head of the table, presiding over this summit, sits Praetor Amalthus.

“Let us begin this summit. Thank you to all of you for coming on such a short notice.”

“Pleasure,” says Queen Raqura. “I, for one, have plenty of questions about Mor Ardain’s negligent or malicious treatment of the situation. It seems obvious to me that this attack on Urayan troops was a deliberate act of warfare against the kingdom of Uraya, so I can’t say I understand the point of our being here.”

“Interesting. Thank you for your input, your Majesty. Emperor Niall, what say you?”

Niall takes a deep breath before he talks. “I cannot lie and say that Ardainian weapons were not discharged against Urayan troops. That much is obvious. Mor Ardain is, as a result, prepared to offer any recompense necessary.”

Queen Raqura wrinkles her nose in a way that screws up her face quite masterfully. “Why is it that you’re speaking as though this was not actually your fault?”

He smiles. “That would be because I never ordered any attack of the sort. We are currently in the process of undergoing an in-depth investigation to understand what, exactly, happened to cause this situation to begin with. I hesitate to speak on the facts of the matter with any definite words because we don’t know. The only verifiable information at my disposal is that Ardainian weapons were discharged, and I never ordered it.”

Raqura settles back into her chair, leveling a cautious look his way. “I can’t say that I believe you.”

“We will happily give you access to the full report once we understand the situation ourselves. What I can tell you right now is that that Titan weapon was under constant surveillance by a group of guards, and several of the guards who were stationed on the weapon at the time of the attack were found dead immediately following the attack.”

“Even then, I…” She sighs. “I will want a full report with evidence. I can’t cast aside the possibility that you're lying, or that those men were killed in order to cover for the truth of the matter.”

“Why would I order a weapon to discharge against Uraya and instigate war, and then kill the men involved? If I wanted war, I wouldn’t be speaking against allowing this situation to escalate into war. Either way, I intend to fully reimburse you for damages caused.”

“Reimburse—“

“I do have to wonder, Emperor Niall, what the purpose of an in-depth investigation is without questioning any of the myriad of witnesses present at the scene.”

“Witnesses?” Raqura says. “Who?”

Zeke raises a silent hand off the table, and Mórag joins him, a small smile on her lips. “When we heard the news, we immediately rushed to figure out and stop the situation,” Zeke says. “But not just me and Special Inquisitor Mórag.”

“Well, why was the Special Inquisitor so close at hand? The more information I learn, the more suspicious this becomes.”

Mórag nods. “I was visiting the Praetorium by chance. I have been accompanying the Driver of the Aegis in his travels, and his travels led him here.”

“Speaking of, in the interest of streamlining all this, we can go ahead and bring them in, yeah?”

Amalthus nods, and Zeke calls them in.

Amalthus stands and smiles as Malos enters the room, followed shortly by Fan la Norne. “My very own Blade, Fan la Norne, went with the group that responded to the news. She is here with Malos, the Aegis who led the response group.”

“The Aegis?”

Malos and Fan come to a stop at the far end of the table, neither taking the opportunity to sit. They’re quite the pair—Malos in all his imposing grumpiness, Fan in all her ethereal sweetness. Next to him at half his height, she looks all the smaller, and next to her, he looks all the bigger.

Raqura sits straight up, peering across the table at the pair of them. “But… who’s his Driver?”

Malos shrugs. “That’s hardly important to this conversation. You wanted witnesses to the attack on Judicium, yeah?”

“Um… yeah.”

“Then let’s get to that.”

~

Even a Titan such as Indol has shadows. High above the city, in the deep recesses below, there is a place for everyone, even the trio from Torna overlooking the world below. In their little shadow of Indol, they watch and plan.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just take them out right now? Jin practically gave all the world leaders to us in one hand.” Patroka places a hand on her hip, watching the soldiers below scurry about like ants.

Akhos shakes his head. “Stay your hand, Patroka.”

Mikhail nods. “Yeah. Best steer clear as long as Haze is involved. She’s just going to keep creating issues and issues until she’s gone or we’ve dealt with her. Besides, dealing with Amalthus will be a pain without a plan.”

“That’s what we’re here for, after all. Information is the best weapon, as I’ve begged you both to come to know.”

"Yeah, it sure is. My bardiche is also a weapon, so I don't really see your point." Patroka huffs.

"My point is that we have much still to do, and we’re here for a reason."

"But what about Amalthus? Couldn't we just kill him and get rid of them both?"

"Therein lies the problem." Akhos sits, scanning the landscape ahead of him. "Jin confirmed what Mikhail had already suspected—half of Haze's core crystal has curiously gone missing. And I'd be willing to bet that it's remained close to home. We know from Mikhail that so-called Blade Eaters can take on abilities of the Blade whose core crystal they’ve been implanted with.”

She huffs and takes a seat beside him. “So, what? You think that he can use her power?”

“We don’t know for certain. As of right now, we can’t even confirm with absolute certainty that he has her core crystal. But if he does, and he’s gained her ability, we have a mighty problem on our hands.”

Mikhail laughs. “I’d bet money on it being him, though. There’s a reason I’m here now, after all.”

"Either way, we must be careful. No rushing in, and best not to engage while in the domain of the enemy. The best thing we can do is stay away, and perhaps..." He trails off, eyes on the distant refugee camp. The biggest, most sinister shadow in Indol. "Well, the brightest lights cast the darkest shadows. I've got a plan."

~

"We arrived in Temperantia in response to the news of an Ardainian Titan weapon suddenly being discharged. Some feel it better to keep an eye on what I do, so I had been travelling with the Special Inquisitor recently. She seemed convinced that this was not the actions of her people, and something else was going on. I wondered who would benefit from inciting a war between Mor Ardain and Uraya, against anyone's will, and found my answer easily. When we arrived, my theory was proven to be correct—the group calling themselves Torna were directly involved in the attack. Jin is a powerful Flesh Eater, and to my understanding, is the leader of the group, next to Mythra, the other Aegis. I can suspect that part of their goals involve Mythra, but I have little information about the rest."

"It seems that Jin himself is also sick in a way," Fan la Norne adds. "We fought and nearly subdued him, but he was aided by another member of Torna and escaped. Still, something was wrong with his core crystal. I think that fact may have saved my life."

Malos nods. "Jin was already strong before. We fought together, once. But becoming a Flesh Eater may have given him more power than his body can handle. He moved dangerously fast, and probably would have been able to overwhelm most of us before we could react if he hadn't seemed to have an issue with his core crystal."

Raqura looks pensive. "You mean to say that Torna is headed by a Flesh Eater and the Aegis Mythra..."

"It's unfortunate, but it looks like I only managed to damage Mythra during our final battle in the Aegis war five hundred years ago. It hasn't been for nothing, based on my encounters with her since, but she is still active and mobile. She seems to have managed to create a sort of low-power form to revert to in order to conserve energy, but I suspect her ultimate goal is to recover her powers and return to attempting to destroy Alrest. In other words, inciting a second Aegis War."

Amalthus lets out a long sigh. "I hate to admit that this is, indirectly, all my fault."

"Your fault, Praetor?" Emperor Niall echoes.

He nods. "For you see, I am the one who awakened Mythra so long ago. It isn't that I've ever claimed to be anything else, but many appear to have forgotten it over the long years. It's moments such as these that remind me of just how much damage I have caused. It weighs on me now more heavily than ever before."

"So it's true, then?" Raqura says. "I'd heard rumors, but..."

He nods slowly. "If only I had the power to subdue her myself. But, given Malos's presence here, I doubt that even my death would aid in preventing Mythra from the sort of wanton destruction she aspires to."

Malos goes on to tell them the remaining details about the attack on Temperantia. What he does not tell them is his suspicions, the fact that Blades take strongly after their drivers, especially a new Blade with a strong-willed Driver. What he does not tell them is the existence of Minoth, hiding in Uraya, determined to keep as far away from his Driver as he can stand because of the hatred he saw brewing in his Driver's heart.

He stands back and lets Fan take over with her own testimony. He can't make things harder for his Driver, not now. Not when they won't easily be able to leave the lion's den.

~

"Are we seriously doing this?" Patroka says. Her tone is not one of disbelief, but excitement.

"I don't see any better way, not that I'm complaining." Akhos adjusts his glasses, awaiting her response.

She laughs, a full-body, wicked sort of laugh. "You are such a horrible person. I'm here for it."

Mikhail nods along. “If we’re really going to be pushing for Jin’s dreams, then we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“And you are okay with this, Mikhail?”

“Yeah. I might not be super close with her after everything, but it’s fine. Do what you need to to push her, and we’ll get there yet.”

“Well, with your approval, all that’s left to do is wait and watch. Mythra’s already expressed interest in recruiting her, too.”

And so the trio from Torna found a new set of shadows to wait in and watch from. There was plenty yet to happen, and plenty yet to do. It would take quite some waiting yet.

~

“Thank you again for your assistance in the matter of the summit,” Amalthus says. He stands, clasped, at the far end of the small office he has brought Malos to. Malos catches Fan watching him out of the corner of her eye—can she sense his guardedness? Can she tell just how much he hates being here?

“I have to ask,” he says finally, “but who are you living for? Why are you still alive, Amalthus?”

Amalthus turns, his smile strained, and doesn’t answer.

Chapter Text

Core crystals rise and dance in the light at the center of the audience chamber as Rex enters with his companions. Amalthus stands at their base as the source of their light, and as he lowers his arms, the crystals come to rest before him. Beside him, Fan waits, hands clasped. “Ah, thank you for coming on such short notice. How have you been faring since Temperantia?”

Rex hesitates. The light, still fading from the room, feels almost sinister to him. He can’t help but think of Mythra’s light. He has to force himself not to dwell on the feeling. “I’ve been good. What were you…”

“Ah! Apologies for that. I was cleansing a new batch of core crystals. It is a power I gained when I became an Aegis Driver.”

“So… you can cleanse them because you’re a Driver of an Aegis?” Rex says. “Doesn’t that mean I might be able to learn how to do that, too?”

Amalthus waves a hand, and in turn, a pair of monks comes to collect the cleansed cores. “Perhaps, someday, I may show you. It’s true that having someone else able to cleanse core crystals would be useful, in case something were to happen to me. I don’t know if you have that ability, though—we are Drivers of different Aegises, after all.”

“Oh. Right.”

“It’s done because cleansing core crystals increases success rates of awakenings, right?” Fan pipes up.

Amalthus nods, slow as he watches her. “That’s right.”

Rex can’t help but notice that Amalthus keeps watching Fan as they’re led to the back office.

He doesn’t like the feeling he’s getting.

~

The Praetor’s office is cramped, with more than ten people cramming inside, and still Amalthus finds the space to stand apart from their group. They’re only missing Tora and Poppi—whose repairs are nearly done—and Mórag and Brighid, who have spent all their time since Temperantia dealing with the aftermath. It helps little that the room is kept dim—a stark contrast to the brightly-lit, brightly-colored room just outside.

“I called you here because I have a request for you, and an offer that will assist in your travels.”

“Really?” Rex says. “That’s great!”

Amalthus nods slowly. “You attempted to reach the World Tree once already, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“What did you notice about the World Tree when you got close? Any of you are free to answer.”

Nia twists a hand in her hair as she answers. “Well, there wasn’t much we were able to see before that Artifice thing attacked us.”

“Artifice aside, there was a massive gap in the cloud sea surrounding the base of the World Tree,” Malos says. “I take it that that wasn’t there before?”

“You would be right to say so. The Great Void appeared at the Tree’s base about five hundred years ago, and Ophion’s presence there with it.”

“And together, that would make two problems stopping us from getting to the tree.”

“Ophion is an abandoned Artifice of Mythra’s, to my understanding, but she is not the one controlling him now. I imagine that after being damaged, she doesn’t quite have the power to command him as she did before. Regardless, there is an artifact that can be used to control him, but it is not in my possession.”

“Where is it, then?”

“That leads to my request. This artifact is known as the Omega Fetter, and without it, you could destroy Ophion to reach the World Tree, but I imagine it would go poorly, even for you, Aegis.”

Malos glares and says nothing.

“That is why I ask that you, Rex, and your friends travel to Tantal on my behalf as a special envoy. The Tantalese king knows of the Omega Fetter and its uses, and has possession of it at present. Normally, one cannot easily enter Tantal. The country is extremely isolationist, and the Titan itself very rarely comes close to the surface of the Cloud Sea.”

“Then… how are we meant to get there?”

Amalthus nods to Zeke, who takes a moment to flex as though it’s all his domain.

“That’s up to me!” Pandoria says before he can speak. “I’m the one who controls the Omega Fetter right now! I can just call up Genbu so you guys can go in!”

“Yes, thank you, Pandoria. Zeke and Pandoria will be your guides in this—both have been here, in Indol, for some time, but as I’m sure you know, Tantal is the kingdom from which Prince Zeke hails. He will be useful in finding your way through its bitter cold, should you accept.”

“I don’t know if we have much choice,” Rex admits. “But… if this Omega Fetter is being used for controlling the Tantalese Titan, we can’t just take it, can we? They’re kind of using it.”

Amalthus smiles, reaching for a particular scroll on his desk. “Give this letter to King Eulogimenous. It contains all the paperwork necessary for entry, but also details your situation. I have had dealings with Tantal in the past. I can assure you, they will offer their assistance readily once met with my explanation of the situation.”

Rex accepts the scroll with both hands, holding it awkwardly. “Alright. We’ll be your envoy. Thank you for all your help.”

“You can choose to leave whenever you wish—my doors at the Sanctum are always open, and you may continue using the rooms I have provided until you are ready to depart for Tantal.”

“That’s a great help, thank you!”

“Um.”

Fan’s voice cuts through something in the room, and she doesn’t seem to have realized she’s spoken until it’s too late for her to take the noise back. With wide eyes and a solid attempt at her usual serene smile, she goes on. “If I may, Praetor Amalthus, may I accompany the Aegis and his companions on this mission?”

Amalthus is surprised. “You are the Goddess of the Praetorium, Fan la Norne. What has possessed you to want to stray from this place?”

She shakes her head. “It isn’t that I want to leave Indol or the Praetorium. There is a lot of good I do here, and everyone is very kind to me. But… I want to help people and do even more good than I’m doing now. There’s little I can do here except be a face for the people. But many members of Torna are Blades, and if Rex and the others meet them again, I think they’ll want to have me there. I could finally be useful.”

Amalthus considers her with a side-eyeing look. “I will give your request some consideration. For now, plan on remaining in the Praetorium. ”

She takes a small step back, hiding her frown. “Yes, of course. Thank you, your Eminence.”

~

The guy’s room in the sanctum has been a mess for several days on end. Tora has exploded across the room, somehow converting his bed into a functioning workbench. Poppi has laid, inactive, atop the bed ever since Temperantia, her arm and parts of her shoulder joint laid out across the open space. Even her chest plate has been removed—like this, it’s jarring, realizing just how non-alive Poppi has been all along now that she’s not moving.

Tora, for his part, has been spending his nights on the floor next to the bed now occupied by Poppi. At least, Rex is pretty sure. He doesn’t seem to be sleeping much at all, honestly—Nopon don’t get the kinds of eyebags poorly-rested humans do, but Tora is sure trying for them. One or two nights, now, Rex has woken up to the sounds of tinkering in the darkness, of Tora feverishly working to repair Poppi. Even now, he hasn’t quit, eyes focused on what appears to be Poppi’s elbow as the group files in to report their next moves.

Crossette is the one to give Tora the lowdown. “We’ll be going to Tantal next!”

Tora doesn’t respond. In fact, he doesn’t even seem to hear her—his round eyes seem even larger as they focus on the task at hand.

“Um… Tora…? Did you hear me?”

No response. Malos hits him gently in the back of the head. “Hey. Do you have any idea where we’re going next or not?”

“Please not to be hitting head of Tora. When leaving for Tantal?”

“So you were listening. I’m almost impressed.”

Rex shares a look with the others, who offer him various shrugs in reply. Finally, he says, “We haven’t figured out exactly when, yet, but it should probably be pretty soon. We can’t leave until the Praetor decides whether or not Fan is coming with us, though.”

Tora nods along, though his Noponic little nose is still delving into work on Poppi.

Ursula speaks up, a deep-set frown on her lips. “Um… Tora… have you… eaten at all?”

“Tora hungers for nothing but completion of repairs of Poppi. Please to be speaking to Tora only when job finished.”

Another shared look, this one warier than the last. Not a good sign, not as far as anyone’s concerned. Malos lets out the sigh of a long-suffering man and turns to leave the room. “You’re not breaking yourself for this. I’ll bring you something to eat.”

The group goes their separate ways for the day, but Malos returns soon, placing down a plate of food next to Tora on the floor. Tora doesn’t respond, but a few hours later when he returns, the food is gone. Malos, grumpy as he is, is satisfied.

~

“I have to wonder why it is you’ve decided that you want to leave the Praetorium,” Amalthus says. “Did you not get your fill being sent to retrieve the Aegis from Mor Ardain?”

The room feels darker when it’s just Praetor Amalthus and Fan la Norne. She doesn’t waver in the pressure, instead standing firm and thinking carefully before she argues her stance. “It isn’t that I want to leave, Praetor Amalthus. I just want to be able to do more. Here, I’m powerless. But when I stood by everyone’s side and helped them fight in Temperantia, I felt like I was doing something that mattered.”

“But why now, when the refugee camps need you more than ever?” A subtle incline of his head gives no indication to his answer, but still she dislikes the direction he’s going.

“The refugee camps need someone. But that someone doesn’t have to be me. There are plenty of monks and caring people in Indol who would be able to lend a hand to the camps. But, as far as controlling Titans and Blades goes, if that power is needed, then I am the only one who can lend it. Rex and his friends are under constant threat, and I can help them.”

“It isn’t that I don’t see your logic. I have to admit, you’ve thought about this quite thoroughly. It makes me wonder how long you’ve been waiting for an opportunity to ask.”

Fan shakes her head. “I haven’t been considering it very long. But it struck me recently… there’s a girl in the refugee camps that’s sick. She might be dying. I can help her and help her and help her, but I’m not a doctor and even being a healer-type Blade, I can’t fix illness. All I can do is ease her discomfort. I don’t even… I don’t even have money of my own to take her to a doctor.”

“Oh, Fan. That is all the more reason why you need to stay here, in Indol. That girl is dying. You are not the only one who can come to the camps to see her, but you are the only one who does. You are the only one who cares.”

“Cares?” The color drains from her face. “I can’t be… She’s so kind, and sweet. Despite her situation, she’s always smiling. I can’t be the only one who…”

“Why is it your duty to attend to the refugee camps, again?”

“I… I requested that it be so,” she says. Her words have already begun to lose heart.

“And why did you request it?”

“Because I saw that so many ignored them, or turned up their noses at people in need, who we took in with the intent to give them kindness. I wanted to be kind to people who needed it more than ever.”

He places a cold hand on her shoulder, looking at her with a calm smile. “There is no one else who thought to give them that grace. It’s only you. You have a place here in the Praetorium. Indol needs its Goddess to remind all of us to be loving and kind. And you need to focus your worries on your world, not the outside world. None of those issues concern us here. Worry yourself only with that which may bring harm to Indol and its people, Fan la Norne. You were brought here for a reason.”

“I… I understand. Thank you, Praetor.” She stares at the floor and the two pairs of feet there and finds her words hidden among it all, feeling more like a petulant child than a well-regarded Blade. “I’ll excuse myself now. I have plenty of duties still to attend to.”

She bows her head, and Amalthus returns to his desk and his work, unbothered by her absence.

~

The group piles into one of the sanctum’s rooms, draping themselves in turn over beds, chairs, and windowsills to listen to Mórag’s request. The only sacred space is the Poppi bed, which Tora has now taken to throwing himself on in a fit of tears with the declaration that she’ll never be operational again. (Several have reassured him that the only thing stopping her from being fixed would be him giving up on fixing her.)

“If Tora’s quite done lamenting, I would like to get to my request.”

“Hit us,” Nia says, bouncing on one of the beds.

“Both Emperor Niall and Queen Raqura have agreed that they would much rather communicate in a discussion led on their parts to come to an agreement. As such, Uraya and Mor Ardain are having a more official summit separate of the one held by the Praetor. There have been rumors floating and concerns abound regarding the possibility of an assassination attempt at the summit.”

“What?”

“Obviously, if this were to take place, there would be no further chances of avoiding an all-out war. Acting chairman of Argentum Trade Guild Niranira reported his concerns, and added that he wishes for this to be taken care of under the table, as his primary concern is that former chairman Bana is the one behind it.”

“Makes sense that the chairman would want to take some heat off Argentum,” Rex says. “I mean, after everything that already happened with Bana and all.”

Mórag nods. “And because we wish for this to be taken care of out of the eye of the public, that unfortunately leaves me without the ability to handle it directly. As Special Inquisitor in the midst of all this tension, I cannot investigate to the fullest extent of my abilities. I have been receiving quite a lot of help from you recently, and I cannot help but feel like I’m taking advantage of you. Regrettably, Acting Chairman Niranira, Emperor Niall, and I have all agreed that you all are our best option for handling this situation. That is, if you are willing to aid me once more.”

“Of course we don’t mind that.” Malos leans, arms crossed, against the wall and levels a well-meaning glare her way. “We forced help on you last time in the first place.”

Zenobia snaps her attention his way, grin wide. “Oh? Even Malos is starting to get in on the helping-people train.”

“I’m not like that,” he protests. “I’m just saying, no one here cares if you ask us to help out. Just tell us where to find you, and get us the clearance we need to investigate.”

Mórag cracks a smile. “Thank you to all of you. The summit will be taking place aboard the Ardainian Titan ship at the far port. The ship itself is heavily guarded. I will take steps to inform the guards on duty to let you aboard whenever necessary. Now, I should also inform you that this summit will be taking place tomorrow night over dinner. You have until then to sniff out the method and ensure that nothing goes wrong.”

Malos scoffs. “Could have done with a bit more warning.”

“I… apologize. Niranira only approached us—“

“Don’t care. No time for that. We need to get to investigating now.”

“…right. Then… thank you. I’ll be taking my leave now. Please don’t let me down.”

~

Nighttime falls over the Indoline Praetorium like a sigh. Fan had gone looking for any of those traveling with the Aegis in their rooms earlier, but the only one she had managed to find was Tora, who had been entirely unresponsive. Even Nia had gone out somewhere, and she had had more duties to attend to in the meantime. She’d ended up not saying a word to anyone about Amalthus’s decision.

The truth is, she had been hoping for as much. She had plenty to do, but nothing that was on a strict schedule. She could have looked for someone while requisitioning supplies for the refugee camp, kept her eyes peeled while greeting pilgrims. At one point, she even thought she saw Ursula looking around, but couldn’t bring herself to approach.

Of course she wanted to obey Amalthus’s decision. Of course she did! He’s her Driver, after all, and she, his Blade!

But…

She greeted pilgrims to the sanctum with a warm smile, and it was nothing someone else could not have done. She asked if anyone had any donations they were willing to give in support of the refugees, and it was not a question she alone could have asked. She organized donated items from the previous day in a box, and it was nothing that her eyes alone could have accomplished. Any monk could have carried the box, and any monk could have found the man in charge in the camps and handed the donations over. When she saw one of the monks on her way, for once, she didn’t feel warmth in her greeting towards him—a small resentment brewed in her, and though still she greeted him with her usual smile, the reason for her resentment didn’t fade.

The monks stood, posted at the doorways, holding their weapons straight and watching for trouble. In fact, they stood at nearly every doorway, and could be found on nearly every corner. In fact, the Praetorium had a surplus of good, strong bodies with working eyes, legs, hands, and voices, including younger warrior monks in training who had far too much time on their hands.

In fact, she could not be the only one who could care for the refugees.

In fact, her presence made no difference at all.

The monks would have money to spare. They earned a living wage, funded by cash donations and bolstered by the fact that they often received discounted prices at the local stalls and when seeking care, and had a kind of power in conversation that Fan somehow lacked.

If anyone could do her work and smile at strangers and ask others to be kind, why is it that she was the only one who did it? Someone else could stand and greet people. Someone else could spread that kindness.

She sighs into the quiet night as she maneuvers through the camp towards the back wall where Millie lies. How could this be the only place for her? If she felt a calling to travel with the Aegis, why couldn’t that be the Architect calling her, when Praetor Amalthus himself had advised so many before her to follow those same calls?

It isn’t difficult to find Millie. She’s always been tiny, so tiny, but Fan finds a figure leaning over her tonight. If he doesn’t give her away, the hacking sure does. “I’m so sorry, girl,” the man whispers, hoarse. “Just let it all pass through.”

Fan comes to rest beside him. He’s an older man, with knobbly knees and a hunch to his back as he leans over Millie. Fan has spoken with him on more than one occasion, and he had a kindness to his heart that shone in his eyes then. He had been a fighter, and he fights for Millie even now. “How is she?”

He looks to her with a deep-set frown. “Maybe we should step away for a moment. Come with me.”

He leads her away, where he divulges in a whisper: “She’s in a really bad way. I wouldn’t give her until morning without help. And without supplies, there’s nothing I can do to help her.”

She inhales sharply, a fist clenched against her chest. “You don’t mean…”

He nods gravely. “I’m sorry. Millie’s going to—“

“Not if I can help it,” she grinds out. “I know someone.”

“That Driver you brought before? You think she can help? Healers are—“

“Believe me, I know what healers are capable of. I’m going to help her. Please wait with Millie. I’ll be back.”

~

Fan runs like a shot in the night, clamoring up stairs, darting around the rare body still out beneath the cover of night, and changing direction on a dime to make it to Nia’s room. When she arrives, her fists don’t relent against Nia’s door until it swings open and Crossette greets her, rubbing her eyes. “Fan…? Are you okay…?”

“Where’s Nia?” she says, gasping out each word. “Please. I need her help.”

“Oh, okay, yeah, let me just…”

Crosette disappears into the room for a moment. There is a minute of shuffling, and then there is Nia, standing there as a light in the darkness, the one solution to save Millie’s life. She’s hastily wrapped a blanket around herself, and it occurs to Fan now that perhaps Nia has taken the rare opportunity where she had a room to herself and the girls to sleep without a top.

“I’m sorry to wake you. Please, come with me. Bring Crossette, too.”

“What is it?”

“Please, Nia, there’s no time. Millie is…”

“Say no more. I’m there.”

The run back to the camps is easier, though Fan wonders at the start whether she has the stamina to make the sprint all the way back. Nia’s light blanket flutters behind her like a cape, keeping easy pace with the winded Fan as she goes. She’d tied the blanket around herself, with what seemed to have been Crossette’s help, so it fully covers her chest and knots in the back.

They slow only when they reach the entrance to the camp, where Fan sticks out a hand and indicates for both Nia and Crossette to move quietly. The refugees sleep in tents, and the last thing they need in their situation is interrupted sleep.

The man still sits hunched over Millie’s form, and Millie still hacks an awful, wheezing cough, convulsing with such force that Fan fears she’ll hit her head against the wall. She’s certainly hit it against the ground, maybe more than once, and that brings on even more fear. At the very least, the continued coughing is a good sign. If she’s still coughing, that means she’s still alive.

“You must be Lady Fan’s friend,” he grunts as Nia drops to sit on her knees beside him. “You here to take a look at the girl?”

Nia nods, looking back to Crossette. “Could use your help.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course!”

“Um, Nia, this is Albert. He used to be a doctor before the war. You… you said before that with better understanding, there would be more you can do for Millie, right?” Fan says. Her knuckles have grown a permanent white in their grip on her sleeves. “So if he could talk to you about what’s going on with her, you and Crossette might be able to…”

“Again, I can’t make any promises. But you brought me here, and if I’m going to lose sleep over this, then I’m going to make sure it was worth it.”

Crossette laughs softly as she comes to sit beside Nia. “She means that we’re going to do everything we can to help.”

A quiet sigh from Nia to match the relieved one from Fan. “Thank you, Nia, Crossette. I mean it.”

“So, Albert, was it? Tell me about what’s going on with Millie. Be as specific as possible.”

Albert glances at Fan, then back to Nia, and begins to speak.

~

It had been a long several hours. Albert had told Nia in detail the basics of what she needed to know, and while Fan had watched nearly all of it fly over Crossette’s head, Nia took the information in stride, nodding along with a permanently furrowed brow and attentive ears. When all was said, the pair had shooed away both Albert and Fan and wouldn’t work until they’d given them the privacy they needed. Nia claimed it was a need for absolute silence while she and Crossette worked, but Fan’s insistence that she’d not so much as breathe until they were done was met only with a cross look.

Crossette had come and gotten her some time later, a bright but sleepy smile on her face. By that point, Albert had gone on to bed, asking Fan to stay with her for the night, if she could. (“That kid was born to nothing. She’ll die with nothing, too, but she shouldn’t die alone. If you can’t, I’ll stay up with her. Just give me the word.”)

Millie isn’t coughing when Fan at last comes to check on her. Nia gives her a bleary-eyed smile. “She’s going to be alright,” she says, “as far as I can tell. She just needs some good rest. I can’t fight the sickness for her, but I did my best.”

“I really can’t thank you enough, Nia. If there’s anything at all you need from me, please just ask. I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”

Nia yawns, then, and shakes her head. “Nah, no need. Just keep me updated, yeah?”

“Of course. I’m going to stay with Millie tonight, but let me walk you back part of the way, at least.”

It’s there that Fan la Norne stands now, in the deepest darkness between the steps to the plaza. “Hey, Nia?” Fan asks.

“Yeah?”

“You met Minoth before, right? Amalthus’s other Blade?”

“Yeah,” Nia says with a nod. “What about him?”

“I was wondering if I could ask about him.”

She shrugs in response. “Can’t say I know all that much. I know that he once fought with Malos against Mythra.”

“Right!” Fan says, her eyes bright. “Malos told me that we fought alongside each other back then! Doesn’t that mean that, when we met, Minoth might recognize me? He could probably tell me more about my past life, right?”

“Well, yeah, probably. I mean, Malos recognized you, and Jin did, too. And the old man writes a lot now. I bet he’s even written about you.”

“I was also wondering, why haven’t we met? He’s the Praetor’s Blade, too, but I’ve been at his side for… untold years, now, and Praetor Amalthus has never mentioned Minoth before.”

Nia hesitates. It’s an awkward, long hesitation. The kind that answers questions no one bothered to ask. “Well… I don’t know, exactly. But have you really looked at Minoth’s weapon? The blade that Rex gave to the Praetor.”

Fan had. It had rested on Amalthus’s desk ever since, and Fan, in a moment of cleaning, had taken time to investigate it. She’d picked it up to dust, but been entranced by its structure, and moreso by the core crystal on it—blue tainted with magenta, swirling into the purity and turning it into something more beautiful.

“The core crystal was corrupted, right? It contained a swirl of red.”

“Right.”

“I’d heard tell of Flesh Eaters before, but the only one I’ve met is Jin. His core crystal wasn’t like that, though. Is that kind of corruption what happens to a Blade who spends a long time away from their Driver?”

Nia shakes her head. “That’s not it. As far as I know, Blades just start getting weak. Some can handle being away from their Drivers a long while, though. That all depends on the Blade. And Jin… his core crystal’s not normal. Something’s wrong with his. I don’t know if it has to do with a mistake in how he became a Flesh Eater, or his age, but it’s not meant to be that color.”

The silence hangs between them as Nia searches for the words. “I don’t know his circumstances. I don’t know why, or how. But Minoth has been a Flesh Eater for a long time. He’s corrupted, too. Calls himself a failed experiment. He isn’t nearly to the point Jin is at, but Malos and I took the time to help heal him last time we saw him. His body has begun aging like a regular human’s, though much slower.”

“I wonder if I’ll ever get the chance to talk to him. For the longest time, I’d assumed that I was the Praetor’s only Blade. He never mentioned the others, you know, and when you’re a Blade, you have no reason to believe that you’re not the only one your Driver has if you don’t see any others, you know?”

“Right.”

“But then, he’s a Flesh Eater… I wonder why… You don’t know, do you? Why Blades become Flesh Eaters?”

A thousand words wait at Nia’s lips. She doesn’t know how to answer; this is primarily because she knows exactly how to answer.

Fan isn’t looking for an answer. In fact, she’s staring up at the stars, wondering aloud to herself, when Nia gives the answer to her anyways.

“Tragedy.” She says the words firmly, easily, simply.

“What?”

“A Blade becomes a Flesh Eater because being a Blade is tragic, and by taking in and fusing with a human, they don’t have to forget anymore.” She’s got her own eyes on the sky as she speaks, clutching her blanket ever tighter around her shoulders. “When your Driver is dying, or someone else you care about so wholly and completely that you can’t or don’t want to imagine life without them, you do what it takes not to forget them. I guess… that’s why Jin became one. Why Minoth chose to become one, or if he even chose it, I couldn’t tell you. But every other Flesh Eater I’ve known has been one because they’re terrified of what they are. Of forgetting their love.”

“Forgetting their love…” Fan echoes. “You’ve met a few Flesh Eaters, then?”

“None that I’m willing to give you the name of. No offense, Lady Fan.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “None taken. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me. I enjoyed our chat. You and Crossette should go get some rest. I’ll wait here, with Millie, to make sure she makes it through the night.”

“Yeah. Goodnight, Fan.”

“Goodnight, Fan!”

Fan la Norne watches the women disappear around the corner, and then she turns to go think.

~

Fan sits, back against the cool wall behind her, legs straight out in front of her. They’re already beginning to fall asleep, but that’s alright. Millie is still, her head resting on Fan’s lap, hair fanning out across her legs. Fan strokes it with a gentle hand, head tilted back, still watching the stars. She’s packed in for a long night. Tomorrow will suffer, but it’s fine. (The rest of her lifetime will suffer if she doesn’t stay awake for Millie now.)

Millie’s head shifts on her lap. When Fan looks down, large brown eyes meet hers, ears flicking curiously in her direction. She’s pale from the illness, her smile small and weak. Millie has never looked smaller to Fan than in that moment. “Thank you, Lady Fan, for all you and your friend are doing for a street rat like me, even when so many of the adults here hate you.”

Fan nods, shushing her. “You’re going to pull through all of this. And you’re no street rat.”

“…Say.” She turns back to rest her cheek on Fan’s lap. “Mellica says that Blades can keep coming back to life forever, so long as they have a Driver and their core crystal’s in one piece, but they forget everything every time.”

“That’s… that’s right.” Her hand stills, resting on Millie’s head.

“Then, doesn’t that mean… one day, you’re going to forget all of us? Someday you’ll be a Lady Fan who doesn’t remember any of us down here in our camp?”

Oh. In an instant, Fan understands what Nia meant.

Tragedy. Someone you care about so much that you’ll do anything to keep remembering them. Someone you don’t want to imagine life without.

Fan la Norne is a Blade. She is no mother. And still, Millie is an orphan. She is no one’s child. Fan is the one here with her now, stroking her hair and soothing her to sleep even as the odd cough racks her body. This child will never have a mother that is not Fan, and in that moment, she knows.

Millie’s still turned away, but a single eye peeks up at Fan. She shakes her head with the best smile she can manage. “There’s never going to be a version of me that doesn’t remember you, Millie.”

“You can’t promise that, though, can you? If Blades could control it, no one would ever…”

“I promise,” she says firmly. “No matter what happens to me, I’m going to remember you.”

Chapter Text

“Okay, let’s compile our information.”

Crossette rests her elbows on the inn’s table, chin in hand. “We’ve got Tirkin about, dressed up like chefs and carrying super strong-smelling ingredients.”

Zenobia nods. “Not only that, but no one should be able to get in or out of the ship for the summit, except the rulers and their direct guards. A brute-force or sneak attack are both out of the question. We’re just about the only people with access otherwise.”

“And unless someone is super powerful like Malos, there’s no chance of them breaking through the ship or sinking it,” Ursula says.

“And we’re aware that, in the past, Bana has previously employed Tirkin to carry out dirty deeds for him, such as the staff for his factory in Mor Ardain,” says Dromarch. “In other words…”

“It’s gotta be poison, right? There’s no other options left, if no one can get in…”

Nia lets out a long yawn. “I don’t see any other way it could be done. And strong ingredients would cover up basically any other taste.”

“And we’ve got almost no time left. We should go investigate the kitchen immediately,” Malos says with an air of finality that has the entire group getting up. Even a half-asleep Nia and just-as-bad Crossette are dragging themselves out of their seats to get to the port.

“What’s gotten into you two?” Pandoria says, a hand on each girl’s back. “You’ve been dead on your feet all day.”

“Sorry,” Nia yawns. “I just—“ Another yawn. “—didn’t get much sleep last night, ‘sall.”

“Me neither,” Crossette agrees.

“Well, wake yourselves up. We’ll need our healing team for if this turns into an altercation.” Malos stares straight ahead, not even looking back as his chastising comes.

Nia and Crossette do their best. It’s all they can do.

~

Mórag waits for them at the entrance to the ship, hands clasped behind her back and Brighid ever-elegant at her side. “Anything to report?” she asks as they approach. “His Majesty is greeting Queen Raqura now.”

Rex gives her a firm look. “We’re pretty sure we know what’s going on, but we need to be sure. Can you tell us how to get to the kitchen?”

“The kitchen? Sure, I’ll escort you. We should move quick. I’ve already informed His Majesty of your assistance, so they will have to forgive the interruption.”

She leads them inside, through the hangar. Not long behind them, Emperor Niall and Queen Raqura walk together, and the moment they enter the hangar, Rex notices a massive box in the center of the room. “Hold on,” he says. “What’s… what’s in the box?”

Mórag glances that way, a frown on her lips. “That’s… a rather good question, actually. But, we have a goal here, don’t we?”

“Right. I just…” He trails off, jaw dropping as the box shakes. “I think we might’ve misjudged, actually.”

Another violent shake of the box, and he’s sure of it. The box falls apart after one final shake, and there it stands—a massive Artificial Blade, eerily familiar in its hair and maid outfit. From speakers hidden somewhere in her design, a familiar voice resounds. “Oh, friend misjudge horribly! Bana surprised anyone begin to suspect!”

At the very least, no one is surprised at the perpetrator. Chairman Bana, of course, piloting Rosa with a new power emanating from her.

“Bana go through many trouble to be here today, ever since Rex and others raid perfectly legitimate factory of Bana!”

Weapons are in hands in an instant. “Give it up, Bana! Haven’t you already had your name dragged through the mud enough?”

“Name of Bana not nearly muddy enough! That why Bana here!”

Raqura takes a purposeful step forward. “What are you hoping to achieve!”

“It simple to put. Money! Bana kill one or even both of you, and war take place. War means money, and money goes to my Trade Guild!”

Nia shakes her head. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but it’s not your trade guild. You’ve been removed from position as Chairman. You’d get none of the profits.”

“That load of nonsense! Trade guild belongs to Bana until Bana dies! And newly-upgraded Giga Rosa will help Bana claim all money there exist to claim!”

“Right… Your Majesties, stand back. We’ll handle this.”

Emperor Niall nods, taking a pointed step back. “I trust that you all will. Thank you again for your help.”

In one swift motion, the group has placed themselves between the royals and Giga Rosa. “As for you, Chairman Bana, you’ll have to get through us before you even think about laying a hand on them!” Rex says, holding out Malos’s sword in front of him.

In the exact moment Giga Rosa begins to move, Nia is already swooping in with Crossette’s bitball in hand. Giga Rosa is large, and when her fist puts a solid dent in the floor in an attempt to crush Nia, it becomes clear that she’s also much stronger than she had been. She moves slowly as a trade-off, and that lends itself to four Drivers and their Blades dancing around her.

“You stay still while Bana kill you!”

Zenobia laughs, zipping in front of Giga Rosa’s face with axe in hand. “No can do!”

She swings, hard, at just the moment that Nia drives her bitball into Giga Rosa’s leg. The effect is drawn out, almost comedic in the way Giga Rosa wobbles.

The thing about building a massive robot with an even more massive head is that it’s top-heavy. And, when attacking it just right, even a catgirl and a single Blade who can fly can send it crashing to the ground. Unfortunately, when this moment is not planned, it results in one key problem—Nia is still standing beneath the robot.

Rex processes this all in the same moment, and again, he reaches for an Art. He releases it in the same moment, and Nia is surrounded by the golden sheen of an ether shield. In the next moment, Giga Rosa topples, and Nia is trapped beneath a leg, pinning her by the shield.

Ursula watches, brow furrowed as she watches Nia’s shield fade. Someone’s got to help her…

She doesn’t have the power. Not on her own. But she finds her mouth moving, and then words leaving it. “Zenobia!” she shouts. “Launch the robot!”

Zenobia blinks her way, and then, in the next moment, moves. “On it!” She leverages her axe under Giga Rosa’s solid metal plating of a skirt, and hefts it upward.

Giga Rosa tumbles in the air, complete with Bana’s screaming over the speakers as Nia gets clear of the blast zone. Ursula is the first at her side, looking her over until she feels comfortable enough to give a satisfactory nod. “You’re alright, Nia?”

Nia nods. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Giga Rosa crashes to the ground, and in that moment, there’s Rex, rushing in with sword in hand, and Zeke, rushing in a little bit faster with sword in hand. Blades follow, narrowly avoiding stray bullets as Giga Rosa fires off a few rounds to keep her space. Bana must be frantic inside—a top-heavy robot is hardly the best candidate for returning to feet from laying on the floor, and he’s stuck trying to do exactly that.

He manages it, getting Giga Rosa to her feet just in time to fire off a literal fucking missile towards Emperor Niall, Queen Raqura, and their respective attendants (which, in Emperor Niall’s case, means Aegaeon and Mórag and Brighid). Mórag and Aegaeon are there, though, and between two Blades made to defend, the missiles explode off of two layers of ether shielding.

“Meh! You think that all Bana capable of, don’t you?”

“Hey, big guy, pay attention to the threats,” Malos says.

Rex drives his sword into Giga Rosa’s shoulder. It slices through—not like butter, but something between butter and wood, leaving Giga Rosa’s arm hanging off by comparatively thin cables.

“Meh meh! Rex pay big money for damaging Rosa—“

“Actually, I believe you owe me a hundred thousand,” Rex replies, a grin on his lips. “We’ll call it even, yeah?”

Zeke is there, not to be forgotten, driving his own sword towards Rosa’s center with all the force he can muster. Zeke and Pandoria’s sword strikes true. Nia, too, sweeps in, having at some point swapped Crossette’s weapon with Dromarch’s, gold affinity link blaring between them as she lands on Giga Rosa’s face and begins to swipe. The cockpit pops open, and out falls Bana, barely managing to recover to his feet. Nia backs up on instinct, regrouping with the others as Bana stares them down with hatred in his eyes.

“Why friends have to be so powerful? It not fair to Bana! But Bana have offer.”

“Save it. No one here wants to hear your pathetic attempts to get out of this situation.” Malos stands firm, managing to actually look terrifying where Bana has failed. Mórag escorts Queen Raqura and Emperor Niall closer, hands clasped behind her back with a stern look.

“There is no escape left for you now. The doors are all closed.” True to her word, the hangar door has been sealed. “You will be taken into custody under high treason. Until it is decided what your fate will be, you will remain in solitary confinement. Do not try to outrun us again.”

Bana takes a single step backward, hands waving frantically. “This… this not end!”

“Give it up. Your friends from Torna are not here to bail you out this time.”

It takes half a second. Bana, glaring, a cornered animal, spots from across the room an open door, and through it, his escape. A wing has reached for one of the many pockets hidden among his gaudy clothing and produced the distraction. “Bana not going anywhere!” he declares, and then he’s holding up a large button of dubious intent. “Not without fight! Bana never want to blow up good money, but good money exploding buy a convenient exit!”

And then, he’s bolting, and of everyone there, nearly all are frozen to the spot. Malos, battle-hardened, moves, tackling Rex to the ground as Giga Rosa begins beeping rapidly, a high-pitched death toll. Emperor Niall rushes forward, shouting for Aegaeon, and around the entire group, a veil of water expands.

Even Aegaeon, a gem of Mor Ardain’s crown, given to the Emperor to save his life, is not enough to save everyone. When Giga Rosa explodes, the blasting is deafening and blindingly bright, and no veil of water touches Emperor Niall.

Bana runs towards the open door as the dust clears. He’s really rather fast, but the Aegis party has gone silent. Only Queen Raqura, there by coincidence and necessity, is able to speak. “Emperor Niall, to save our lives, you…”

Niall looks back at her with a sooty smile. But it’s not him who comes forth with the dying words as he crumples, white clothes befitting the Emperor of Mor Ardain slowly staining with blood to match the singing of the blast. It’s Aegaeon who speaks, now, voice weak: “It has been an honor. I will do better next time.”

Mórag’s first breath comes in a scream as Aegaeon returns to his core, and then she’s at Niall’s side, blind to everything as she clutches his body.

“You can’t just—get up! Please!” she begs.

Nia stares, eyes wide.

(“Niall! Get up!”)

At what moment does a body become a corpse? When does the living become the dead? Is the moment the Blade loses the connection that keeps it moving around, keeps it from returning to the core the moment of death? Or is it later? If she moves now, if she breathes and moves Mórag aside from her cousin’s corpse and sets to work, can’t she save him?

(“I can’t take over for you, I won’t take over for you! You need to—you need to—“)

She didn’t move when Vandham died. She didn’t have power when her Driver went, so long ago now. All of those moments are worlds away.

(Mórag’s voice is weak, now, raw with tears and the realization that no amount of yelling will save him. “Please…”)

They won’t happen again.

“All of you, after Bana! Don’t let him get away!” she orders. “I’m going to see if there’s anything left for me to do.”

Rex is the first to nod and take off, and as Nia removes her gloves, the others follow, leaving only Nia, Mórag, Dromarch, and the body-turning-corpse of Emperor Niall Ardanach. Even Queen Raqura and her attendants, caught up in the moment of it all, run after. Nia turns to Dromarch.

“Watch the door. Don’t let anyone come back through until he’s up.”

Dromarch nods and follows.

Nia’s hands are on Mórag’s, prying them out of crumpling up Niall’s clothing. “Just sit back, Mórag. I’ve got this.”

Mórag’s eyes are wild with rage as they snap to meet Nia’s. “Don’t you—“

“Mórag,” she insists. “You want him to live, don’t you?”

Mórag goes quiet, sitting back and watching with red eyes.

When Nia reaches her hands out and begins to pull at the ether within her, her ears are the first to respond to her work. She'll have to work quickly, though moments like these are what her hood is for. Her ears begin to lengthen, the ether calling to her a new outfit, a new way of being that settles beneath her jumpsuit and strains at her sleeves. Her hair, too, responds to the call—changes she can't avoid as the ether courses through her fiercely and leaves her with twin ponytails that brush the floor and fall into the pool of blood she kneels in. The light surrounds her, but her only focus now is on Niall, on each cell within his body. First, the injury itself, the flesh that had been singed and melted away. She can smell it where she can't see it, and she works, water washing over them in the light as she holds out her hands.

Mórag watches her, squinting through the light in silence.

There's nothing she can do about the clothes. Those won't be savable, not even as she brings life back into the cells. The brain, too, needs to be refreshed, and she does so without question.

It barely takes ten minutes. Then, the light is settling, and there's movement below her. Mórag jolts as Niall lifts his head, eyes barely managing to open. Nia can't bring herself to look at or say anything to either of them—this is a moment for Mórag and Niall, the former holding the latter close, and anyway, she needs all her focus to restore her usual appearance before anyone comes back.

"My Lady, they're returning!" Dromarch's voice calls across the hangar, and just in time—her hair has receded to its usual bob, and she throws up her hood to cover her longer, more decorative ears as Dromarch rushes to her side.

When Mórag manages to pry herself from Niall, Nia helps him to his feet, careful to barely even touch him even as she provides the support necessary for him to stand.

"Careful, your Majesty. You'll need to head straight to bed, alright? You're going to need quite a bit of rest after all this."

The Aegis party, plus Queen Raqura and attendants, stands at the door that leads deeper into the ship, frozen as they see Niall sway. Mórag supports him fully, cheeks wet as she gathers herself.

"Take him wherever he can rest undisturbed," she says with a nod. "He probably won't wake up for at least a day after he gets to sleep. And take Aegaeon's core crystal with you, too, yeah?"

"I will never be able to repay you for this, Nia," Mórag says, voice cracked with tears.

"You have my deepest gratitude," Niall says. His voice is quiet, weak. "If there's ever anything you need..."

"All I need right now is for you to rest," she repeats firmly. "You've done a lot of healing in not a lot of time. Your stamina's shot."

He chuckles weakly. "Alright, then. Brighid, can I ask you to smooth things over here? It looks like I've been placed on bed rest."

"Of course, your Majesty," Brighid says. Mórag sweeps him away into the settling dust of the day.

“But… how did he survive?” Raqura marvels as the Emperor stumbles past her. “His Blade even returned to his core…”

Nia smiles. “Have you guys ever heard of basic first aid?”

“First aid? But…”

“I mean, even his scars are…”

She laughs at that. “I’m a healer for a reason. Come on, like I’d just let the Emperor walk around covered in burn scars after all he did to protect us.”

Her companions, at least, are understanding of the truth of the situation at hand. Several give their own nods, though not without the question behind their eyes. She supposes that they don’t know the extent of her abilities, or at least hadn’t.

She laughs a bit to herself. It’s going to get real annoying from here on out.

~

It's a day later when Nia stands in Niall's impromptu office aboard the battleship, Dromarch and Crossette on either side of her.

"I wanted to thank you again for everything you've done. You saved my life. There is little I can do in response to that except to continue thanking you from the bottom of my heart.”

She rubs the back of her neck, grinning. “Ah, you really don’t need to worry about that, your Majesty.”

“Mor Ardain as a whole thanks you. Had we not already extended a pardon to you for your initial assistance with handling Chairman Bana, please trust that I would be pardoning you on the spot. As it stands, there is little payment I can offer, except my thanks. If you desire further core crystals as a Driver, then…”

She shakes her head. “Really, your Majesty. There’s no need to worry about all that. I’m happy with Dromarch an’ Crossette. Really, I don’t need much more than that.”

Niall sighs a smile. “Alright. If you really insist on not accepting payment for what you and your friends have done…”

A thought occurs to her. “Well, actually, I can think of one thing. Is there any scrap left of Giga Rosa floating around the hangar?”

“Scrap? Well, I suppose they haven’t cleaned up yet… My men should be wrapping up their investigation today. Why?”

She considers her answer a moment, and then, she responds.

~

Raqura stands at the bow of her own ship, en route to Uraya. “I just can’t help but feel like… with all the Bana excitement, our concerns got completely brushed aside. And the child Emperor won’t be fully recovered from his injuries for quite some time…” She sighs. “It’s really unfortunate.”

~

Mórag finds that she doesn't want to leave Emperor Niall's side. She can't help it, she reasons—after all, he died and returned unharmed solely by the luck of Nia being present. Anyone would feel protective of family after watching that happen, even a cousin. (A close cousin, nonetheless.)

So she makes sure he gets his rest. She does what she can to assist with paperwork, but much of it requires his hand and his alone, so she can only sort it, prioritize it. When he's up after the second day, he calls her to the battleship’s makeshift throne room, where Aegaeon's core crystal sits egregiously on the table next to Niall's growing tower of paperwork.

"I want you to continue traveling with the Aegis" are the first words that leave his mouth when she reports in. Brighid is away, helping with the more direct management end of things—Architect bless her for all she does—which means that Mórag has to take this information all on her own, decide what to do with no conference.

"But, your Majesty, you—"

Emperor Niall holds up a hand. Even that movement is weak, and it brings a pang to her heart.

"Please, Mórag. It's important to me."

"But—"

She has no argument.

She has no argument at all. So he continues, unbothered. "Do you remember when we used to sneak out to play with the children in Gormott, over by the lake?"

She remembers. Of course she does. Niall would be overwhelmed with his own work, tutoring, and training, and she would inevitably set aside the small pangs of jealousy that she’d fostered to make sure that her young cousin was cared for. Even in the short time before he was born, she had known what it was like to have the weight of Mor Ardain on her shoulders. They had no Blades, then, to protect them, but the local Gormotti children wanted to play, too, and they knew well enough where it was safe to play. It had been so simple, then, so light—she wanted to see her cousin smile, let just a bit of that weight lift for a moment, and he would do it, splashing about in the water or even just staring up at the sky.

"All things considered, we are the biggest source of Gormott's problems. But those children didn't care about that. It was just us, playing, breathing, living. I'd like it if the whole world could be like that again. Like children, laughing and playing in the water and forgetting who the world expects them to be and become."

Despite herself, despite what he's asking her to do, she smiles softly.

"Do you think that the Aegis and his companions are capable of bringing that about?”

She can’t answer that. Not because she doesn’t have the answer—she does—but because she knows where this line of conversation leads.

“You’ve traveled with and aided them long enough that I think you already know the answer. Isn’t that right, Mórag?” He has a pleasant smile, hands folded behind his back as she searches for the words.

“…They do seem to be on track to creating a better Alrest,” she says finally. “They have the means and the drive. That much was obvious even before they aided in the most recent Bana investigation or the Temperantia incident. And, with the Aegis’s power…”

Niall nods. “Power exists to be used. That Aegis and that Driver are not running around mindlessly, it seems.”

Part of her wants to laugh. From time to time, they do seem mindless, wrapped up in whatever chance to do good that they find, drowning themselves in Mor Ardain’s problems not because they have no choice—they’ve had every chance to walk away—but because Mor Ardain has problems and problems hurt people. Helping only because they want to, when really, they have much more pressing matters to attend to.

“Power exists to be used,” Niall repeats, and presses something into her hand.

It feels suspiciously like a sleeping core crystal. And, true to form, it is—it takes little wondering to figure out whose.

“Your Majesty, I—“

“When he’s ready to be awakened again, I want you to take him.”

The crystal is dull, lifeless at the moment. She nearly drops it anyway out of instinct, for fear that she’ll awaken Aegaeon before he’s ready, before she’s even processed her cousin’s request.

“I may have the potential to be a Driver. I may have had the ability to awaken Aegaeon with little issue or backlash to myself. But it’s become clear to me that, had I the aptitude, I would not have needed a Flesh Eater to bring me back to life just a few short days ago. Aegaeon would be awake right now if I had that kind of aptitude. Really, you should have been the one to take the throne, not me, if things were fair and made sense.”

She shakes her head even as she brings Aegaeon’s crystal closer to her chest. “The heir to Mor Ardain has always been a son of the family. I have never begrudged you that honor, Your Majesty.”

It’s a lie, but not an unkind one. Of course there had been resentment. She had been groomed for a role that had then been taken from her. Nearly ten years of her life had been a waste. There had been a time that that had made her angry, but her anger knew how and when to be quiet. After that, there had been relief at having that weight removed from her shoulders, and not much longer after that, it had just been reality.

Resentment, relief, reality. It was easy now to pretend the first two had never happened, and all there had ever been was an acceptance of the situation. Whether Niall believed her or not, he didn’t choose to press the matter, and she went on.

“If anything, I am grateful for the opportunities I have been given to travel and better understand the whole of Alrest.”

“Then,” he says with a smile, “you have no reason to refuse what you’re already grateful for.”

She’s lost. She knows she has. “Then I am grateful to you, too, for the opportunity you’ve given me. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

She leaves, then. She has to, if she wants to find Malos and the others before they leave Indol.

~

She doesn’t have to go very far. She sees Poppi, first, swinging around her arm like it’s not brand new and a distinctly different color than the rest of her body. The others are gathered around her, celebrating her re-awakening, as Tora lays, exhausted, on the outskirts of their group.