“And, thus, I would have you go with Bolormaa to the remembarance services,” Papalymo finished - looking up from his desk. From the papers he’d been given. Minfilia stood on the other side, looking to the [rank here] who’d come to try and recruit the awkward Xaela. Minfilia had not had a chance to mourn - or even to realise who had died. Quietly, she nodded, gulping back questions. What would she hear? What would she listen to?

Papalymo sighed. “And after that, Minfilia, I would like to send you on a diplomacy mission - your skills with the Echo may be untested, but you’re the best person we have.”

Once they left the solar, Minfilia looked to her bag - and Fordola popped out, the mammet-sized Ifrit huffing. “You know it’s probably gonna be political puff pieces, right? Propaganda. They probably don’t even care about everybody who died.

Only their people.”

Minfilia sighed. “And you only care about the Garlean cost of life.

But… you know… I don’t know how Garleans witnessed Dalamud. Especially those not on the battlefield.”

A pause. Fordola blunk at her, before giving a swish of her tail. Oh. She had to do it, didn’t she? Tell her. “Well. As ya know, I wasn’t part of the VIIth. No, I’m part of the XIIth. I was still behind Baelsars’ Wall when it happened.

But like hells I could forget the fires. It was like the Shroud was on fire, trying to tear though to find some safety. It was fucked up, that’s for sure.

It— I’d never seen anything like Bahamut. If I was a religious woman, I would have said that Rhalgr Himself had torn up the skies, ready to finally claim us all. But then, it just… everything turned white, and Bahamut was gone, but everything was different and the forest was still screaming.”

As Fordola spoke, she didn’t seem to realise she was beginning to tear up, beginning to tremble. Memories flooded her, but she tried to speak in her own way.

Minfilia stroked her side, as she began to walk again - Bolormaa had just left the solar as well. “We’re going to Gridiana first! Because they’re meant to be the ones who are going first.”

Airship travel was quite relaxing, in all honesty - though Minfilia couldn’t help but keep quiet as they moved. Her mind, when she heard of airships, turned to Cid. Oh, she hoped he was okay, somewhere out there.

But the travel was uneventful, and now they had made their way to Mih Khetto’s Amphitheatre, crowded in there. Boloraav sat wiggling, tapping her tail against the wooden benches, while Minfilia sat still.

Out stepped Kan-e-Senna, the leader of the Twin Adder - and speaker to the Elementals. Her gaze was gentle, even if Minfilia knew that there was hardness within there. After all, the elementals were cruel beings.

Honestly, Minfilia could understand, in one way. They were as strong as Primal, and as frightening. If one ever disobeyed them, they would be plagued by darkness… or worse. They could not be fought off - though she wondered… what, exactly, were the elemental? 

The speech began, Minfilia focusing on it - as Kan-e-Senna remained as firm as always. “Our forebears were once strangers in the Twelveswood.

Fearful of the greenwrath, they hid themselves in the dark recesses of the earth. Yet they dreamed of basking in the dappled sunlight of the forest.

Through great effort, they proved their worth to the elementals, and were granted a place beneath the boughs. So it was that Gridania was born, some five centuries ago.

Working hand in hand, the Hyur and the Elezen settlers sowed the seeds of our civilization. And soon they were joined by folk of all races.”

All races, Minfilia thought, which are classified as man. If a friendly Ixal tried to enter, they would be rejected - by man and elemental both.

“So nourished by the waters of unity and blessed by the light of the Matron, Gridania flourished into the great nation it is today.”

Minfilia turned - she could hear two others talking. Twins, it seemed, but not identical. One of them - the darker-skinned one - seemed to be more kept then the wild-haired one. As the darker-skinned one talked, she swore he sounded like Louisoix, if only a little. He was pointing for the other one, to the standard behind the Seedseer. “Do you see the Gridanian standard? There, hanging behind the Elder Seedseer. The entwined serpents represent the unity between Hyur and Elezen. An elegant symbol, do you not agree?”

The unkept one gave a roll of their eyes, before looking back to said Elder Seedseer. “In accordance with the will of the elementals, we have embraced a life of peace. Alas, our neighbors have not always sought the same for themselves─nor for us.

Though we Gridanians have no love for war, we have still less for those who would threaten our way of life. Ever have we fought to protect the sanctity of the Twelveswood.”

Had they fought, Minfilia wondered, while Baelsars’ Wall was built? They had fought the Ala Mhigans, of course, but the Ala Mhigans had begun it first. The scars of war lingered in every city-state, however.

“When the Garlean Empire brought its war of conquest to Eorzea, we rallied under the noble standard of the Twin Adder, that we might push back the encroaching darkness.

And it was we who prepared the ground for the reformation of the Eorzean Alliance, that all the peoples of this realm might stand united against the common threat.”

—It was not them who did such, and Minfilia frowned. “Have they truly neglected to remember the role Urianger played? Planting the seeds of an idea in their mind…”

As she spoke, the two youths seemed to look to her - one curious, the other glaring. Bolormaa, though, was leaning forward in confusion.

“Five years ago, the Alliance met the armies of the Empire upon the fields of Carteneau. It would prove the bloodiest battle in recent memory. Countless Gridanian lives were lost.

As supreme commander of the Order of the Twin Adder, ever shall I bear the weight of our people’s sacrifice.”

Even as she spoke, Kan-e-Senna remained as dignified as always. Even as her words slipped out, she carried her own truth. “Alas, their loss was not the only tragedy to befall us that day, for soon came the Calamity. The scars borne by our forest are a constant reminder of its violence. Our lives have been irrevocably changed, each waking hour a struggle to survive.

Driven to desperation, some among us have strayed from the path of righteousness, resorting to banditry, poaching, and other unconscionable deeds.

To compound our woes, the Ixal have returned in force, emboldened by our suffering. They test our defenses nigh without cease, and prey upon the vulnerable.

So beleaguered from within and without, it is of little wonder that our unity now falters. Dark times are upon us.”

She would use this remembarance to rally her people, as well. Against the beast tribes. Of course. Kan-e-Senna lowered her head.

“On this day, five years ago, countless Eorzeans laid down their lives that we might behold another dawn. Please join with me in honoring their memory.”

Everybody grew quiet - except for the more pale girl, who now met Minfilias’ gaze - the two of them almost sharing the same thought. “And how do they propose to honor the memory of those you cannot remember, pray tell?”

Minfilia gave a soft nod. How few of them would recall if their families had perished there? Or if they walked like her, forgotten but not?

“The destruction wrought by the Calamity was indiscriminate─it dealt death to Eorzean and Garlean alike. Yet while we have labored to rebuild our homes─to rebuild our lives─the Empire has set about raising steel fortresses here in the Twelveswood.

Let none be mistaken─the Garleans remain the greatest threat to our survival. If we are to stand against them, we must remember what it is to be united.

Our many troubles blind us to the woes of our fellow man. Thence is harmony lost. Yet harmony is the founding principle of Gridania.”

Harmony between Hyur, Elezen… and Elemental. By the way she spoke, it truly did feel like the Elementals had weakened, they were sickly. And yet, that did not mean that those rejected by the Elementals would be given any way to fight to enter. A queer system, and one that Minfilia disliked.

Kan-e-Senna nodded to herself, seriously. “We are gathered here to honor the fallen. Let them be honored not only in word and thought, but through concerted action! I bid you join hands with me once more beneath the Twin Adder standard!

And together, let us heal the forest’s wounds, that our progeny might live in harmony beneath these ancient boughs. For serenity, purity, and sanctity!”

As she finally finished, and as people disperced, the darker-looking twin approached Minfilia and Bolormaa. “If you’ll permit me. Alphinaud - and my sister Alisaie, at your service.”

“Alphinaud— the grandchild of Louisoix?” Minfilia asked, trying not to raise her voice too much. His grandchild… hm. 

Alphinaud nodded, proudly. “The very same. I’m glad to know some people know about me.”

Bolormaa looked between them. “Do you know him, Minfilia?” Minfilia shook her head, and Alphinaud froze.

“I was a friend of Louisoixs’,” Minfilia explained. “He wrote a lot about his beloved grandchild, Alphinaud. I… did not know you had a twin. Perhaps he did not write of her.”

“Actually,” Alphinaud said, “she was one of those who was forgotten due to the Calamity - or so she has told me. We have come to Eorzea in pursuit of… enlightenment, in a way.”

He looked to the standard again, giving a little frown. “The Gridanians are unfortunate enough to have to contend with two beast tribes—”

“I know, Alphinaud,” Minfilia said.

“I don’t!” Bolormaa said. “Could you tell me more?”

Alphinaud looked to the Au Ra, and began to speak. As the two discussed the beast tribes, Minfilia looked to Alisaie. “I was forgotten as well,” Minfilia said softly. “I am the former leader of the Path of the Twelve - those who seeked to understand the Echo. Your grandfather was the reason I began this.”

Alisaie almost seemed to light up as Minfilia spoke. “His legacy,” she whispered, “was in good hands. And then Dalamud fell, and erased so much. And so much is forgotten.”

Sighing a little, Minfilia nodded. “I have rejoined the new organization… but I worry. You can hear how the beast tribes are spoken about. It seems that not only my memory was forgotten.” She would just need to work harder.

Giving a little nod back, Alisaie closed her eyes. “If anything worse had happened, I believe that they wouldn’t be able to put their fears of the beasts aside. Even if it was their only way.” Bitterness filled her tongue - as Alphinaud continued to speak with Bolormaa.

Minfilia nodded in agreement - before her Linkpearl went off. They had their airship to go to the next rememberance. She looked to the two - before bowing her head. “You’re coming to the other two, yes? We can continue our conversations on the airship.”

It had not been too long for an Ascian. Of course, days were like moments to an immortal - Lahabrea included. He’d grown comfortable in this body - but whispers had gotten to him. People looking for them. Those… Scions of the Seventh Dawn, yes? He could take a break from aiding the other side to poke into their business. Discourage them or use them for their deeds.

Even if he was feeling the weight on him. No, it wouldn’t pull him down. Days had gone by, with him wondering who he’d investigate.

Until he saw one of them. Thancred Waters. But to him, he saw somebody else - somebody long-gone. If he could get close, perhaps this would become even easier. And that was made easy by seeing how many bars Thancred went to.

This was one of those days, him entering a little after he saw Thancred enter. There was no sense seeming like he was stalking the fellow, even if he totally was. Thanalan - the name of this region - was far too warm right now. But Lahabrea didn’t care.

Lahabrea approached, quietly. Sitting next to the bard - oh, how the others’ eyes had dulled. But this long would do it to anybody. They had browned, and likely did not see–

“Do I know you?” Thancred said, looking over the other Hyur. A soldier, he assumed, or an adventurer. Under his rusted but firm helm, soft brown hair surrounded a soft face. Oh… he was likely in his early 20s. Or younger - perhaps an elder teen. He smelled of blood and injury.

But that was odd. He swore he’d seen this one before, but no name came to mind. Perhaps he was like Minfilia. Or perhaps not. Thancred focused a bit more, as he nursed a drink.

Lahabrea closed his eyes. “I think I would remember somebody like you,” he said - steeling his heart as he always did. A hand moving to his side-bag - no. There were too many people around. Perhaps later, perhaps when they… hm. Could he get him alone, he wondered. He had seen that this man tended to sleep with many women. Would he sleep with a man.

“And I think I’d remember somebody as flustered as you,” Thancred replied, hands around his drink. “I’ll shout you a drink.”

Lahabrea gave a shy smile. (It was so easy to fake it.) “Thank you. But won’t this stop you from remembering me later?”

That made Thancred chuckle a little. “I’m not a lightweight— ah, my name’s Thancred. And yours?”

“Ligart.”

It was easier to use a name that belonged to a body, after all. Especially a corpse, freshly dead. Lahabrea ordered his own drink, and smiled at Thancred. “I’m an adventurer - just taking a break. Had a nasty run in with some voidsent.”

Even now, he was planting seeds of curiousity into Thancreds’ head - and he could see it. Thancred continued to palm his drink. “Voidsent? This place isn’t often known for having weaknesses in the veil.”

Lahabrea nodded to himself. “Yes… but… there were some people trying to steal something, and then they summoned a Voidsent. They spoke of Paragon? It’s pretty confusing, if you ask me.”

Thancreds’ eyes narrowed more, looking so deeply into his drink. “It isn’t wise to talk about those men out here. What, with what name they decided to use. But…

how about we continue this in my inn room?”

That was just what Lahabrea wanted.

It was a few days later that Ul’dah was gathered, just as Gridiana had been before. Except, of course, in a different location. And Bolormaa, Minfilia, Alphinaud and Alisaie stood ready to listen.

And listen they would, as Raubahn entered - Nanamo riding him, as always. (Sometimes, Minfilia wished she could be carried around by a Highlander. It looked comfortable.)

“Hark you, souls of flame, drawn to the bosom of the desert, where the fire burns brightest and shall rage forevermore!”

Raubahns speech was always loud and bombastic, the roar of a bull. “Where since antiquity, under the sage and judicious rule of the Ul Dynasty, we have wrought sand into gold! Where by the Grace and Glory of Nald’thal have our brave sons and daughters flourished and prospered─I speak of Ul’dah!”

But Alphinaud gave a tilt of his head. “There, at the Flame General’s back flies the Grand Company’s standard. Note the sigil. The golden scales of order balance the jewel of prosperity with the flame of might.

And yet…”

“And yet,” Alisaie snarled, “they hold neither. Not after the Calamity. They carry lies - as you might hear from his speech.”

And Alisaie was right. “In Eorzea’s darkest hour, on the killing fields of Carteneau, none spent more in blood and gold than we.

Thus was the VIIth Imperial Legion laid low!”

Minfilia listened, and her own lips curved into a frown. “How soon the people forget. Almost as soon as they forget how many they’ve left to rot, as they cover themselves in gold.”

Minfilia, of course, talked of those who truly ruled Ul’dah. She was more then familiar with their deeds, and what they’d do. Rebellions and the losses that came with them. She could not stand to listen any more, and walked out - Bolormaa looking a little confused. Bolormaa wished to continue listening.

She did not expect Alisaie to follow her, gripping to Minfilia a little. Fordola huffed as well, looking between the two women. Alisaie gave a little sigh. “…Ul’dah is a sinners’ paradise, isn’t it.”

Minfilia gave a soft nod. “Yes– forgive me for asking, but you seemed to already know about it?”

Alisaie shook her head a little. “I read about it - about Eorzea. Sharlayan may be up their own ass, but they don’t lie too much in their books.”

The two began to move towards the airship docks. “I don’t wish to go to the Limsan rememberance, but I’m certain Bolormaa will wish to.” As they walked together, though, Minfilia began to speak. “While Ul’dah is a land where money speaks, that is not all there is to it. Even if one had the gil, they could not change the deep-rooted issues.”

Alisaie looked up a little, frowning. Before nodding. Minfilia continued, however. “They are the ones who outlawed most which they now call beast tribes, after all. If it was possible, they would likely have done what Garlemald had done - seen us with the Echo as little more then beasts in the skin of people.” Minfilia didn’t mean to grow so passionate, as her hands began to tremble. “If I had the power, I would change it. But I do not - and cannot stand against them. For one, the Waking Sands is in their territory. While I’ve only recently rejoined, it seems that Papalymo understands what I mean.

They put pressure on us to work for Ul’dah, when the Scions must work outside any government. Even outside Ala Mhigo, even if I would give my life to liberate my home.”

“…why?” Alisaie then asked, looking at her. “If what I’ve read is correct, liberation would only be the first step on a long and bloody path. I— I don’t know if it is viable, while Primal remain an issue. While people forget even five years ago.”

Her steps slowing on the airship dock, Minfilia turned to Alisaie, who remained frowning. “I wonder if people remember that it was not Garlemald who declared most races beasts - they began it, yes. But Ul’dah used it to their advantage. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that Ul’dahns would welcome the selfsame world that Garlemald seeks - if it did not mean their own deaths.”

Alisaie nodded in agreement, as they both waited for Alphinaud and Bolormaa to reunite with them…

Thancred had rented a small room - all he needed for an overnight stay. And Lahabrea knew it, as the two had stumbled into sitting on his hard bed. Lahabrea slightly leaned on the other, pretending to be drunk. “…so, you witnessed the Paragon,” Thancred said.

“Why do you call them that?” Lahabrea replied, honestly curious. “Is that their name? I didn’t think that those who’d summon Voidsent would be called Paragon.”

Thancred couldn’t help but chuckle. “Haven’t you heard of not insulting those more powerful then you? Like it or not, these Paragon are dangerous. So, we call them that in case it helps.” How much could Thancred tell this stranger? He was certain, now, that this man was marked for death. Not just because he witnessed an Ascian and lived. But because he remembered him now - he was one of those who’d been close to death near the Sil’dah ruins.

Odd. He thought there was no hope for this one. And there wouldn’t be for much longer. He needed information on what he witnessed. “Did you happen to see a mark on their face?”

Lahabrea nodded a little, playing his part. Gently rubbing his arm against the other. “Yes, I did… though I can’t quite describe it. Perhaps I should trace it on your face?”

Right. Thancred could tell the other was flirting with him. But he’d go along with it, moving to lay down. “Trace it, then.”

Lahabrea leaned over him - his armour still heavy on the other, pressing into him. Now that Thancred was laying there… he could see those eyes, those little wrinkles at the side of his mouth, the sligtht crookedness to his nose. All things he remembered. His fingers began to tremble, but he continued to trace his glyph onto the other. Not noticing he was tracing another, one he hadn’t seen in a long damn time.

As he finished, he hadn’t noticed he’d begun to cry. That a few soft tears had fallen on Thancred. But Thancred put a hand to the others’ cheek. “…I haven’t seen that one before,” he whispered, “but it’s okay. The whole thing’s a little traumatic.”

Lahabrea stilled. “…Thancred, was it?”

Thancred nodded.

Lahabrea then got out a small crystal, marked with a few star-like patterns - before placing it to Thancreds’ skin. Holding it there, gently, praying silently. It had been so long since he’d tried this.

But… nothing. Thancred simply looked at him confused. Lips curving into a small frown. Confusion. Lahabrea then looked to him, his lips curving into a deeper frown.

“…I shouldn’t have expected more from you. That was what he would do - and unlike him, I’m—

I must say, I respect your respect for the enemy.” As he spoke, his glyph appeared - Thancred trying to struggle away. But dark magic pinned his limbs. “To call us Paragon… it’s charming, really.”

He put the crystal away.

He got out a darkened necklace, a dark crystal on it. “Charm gets you nowhere, however. It didn’t give him back.

This was not my plan. Believe me, Thancred. But you’ll make a good body.”

Before Thancred could scream, he felt the necklace around his neck, his body swiftly not becoming his own.

Lahabrea sighed, as the armoured corpse fell limp. Retrieving the crystal, he paused… and adjusted the necklace, clipping it on. Not in a way to damage it. Perhaps more exposure will… perhaps it’ll awaken his dear friend, one of his dear loves.

His fellow Sundered.