Ascian plans were unknown to the group of adventurers - Alphinaud looked to how Minfilia and Alisaie were holding hands - was he jealous? Was he a little upset at how close his sister was to this stranger? But the two of them had both been forgotten by the Calamity, and thus, they had their reasons to be close.

However, he still was a little jealous, frowning, lips bitten as he followed them. Now it was time to listen to Merlwyb. As always, the Roegadyn was loud and booming - inspiring passion. The selfsame history lession, speaking of how the Grand Company had fought off Garlemald.

But, it was clear Minfilia was losing her temper. And after calling for silence, for rememberance, he could tell why. Oh, her passions were visible.

“But when I stand atop the Mizzenmast, and gaze out upon our battered and broken vessel, I see an undying spirit. Did we not build all this from the wreck of the Galadion all those centuries ago? Shall we not do so again!?

Yet there are those who would see this ship of ours sink beneath the waves of the restless Rhotano,” Merlwyp said, taking a deep breath in, “as the Sahagin creep ashore seeking blood for their accursed god.”

Minfilia shook her head. No - they simply needed more land, for they had lost it too.

“While the mines of O’Ghomoro spew forth kobolds who push ever south, despoiling our lands as they go.

These savage beast tribes will be the first waves to crash against our creaking hull.”

The kobold— Alphinaud had never seen his sister look so angry, her eyes almost seeming to gleam golden. “Perhaps they would not push south if they were not being encroached on.” Alisaie hissed, gripping Minfilias’ hand tightly. Quiet enough so none of the pirates would hear them, Alisaie looked up to Minfilia. “They’re monsters.”

Merlwyb continued, but the two ladies did not listen. Bolormaa did, however - and had a question, as the crowd disperced.

“Why did these happen? Why do they mourn?”

Minfilia turned - her anger gone, replaced by looking up at the large lady. “Those who died in the Calamity had a wonderful death. They’ll be back.”

Ah— a Dotharl custom. They believed in reincarnation, did they not? Minfilia would not be rude, but… “Even if they’re reborn, people mourn the lost memories. Even if they have the same soul, they might not be the same person. And… not many people here can tell which soul is where.”

Bolormaa nodded, satisfied. “Only Sadu sees souls, really. Sadu’s really nice.” For those who knew Sadu - those from the Steppe, or those who traveled - that might seem like a strange statement. But Bolormaa was a strange Au Ra, and she found Sadu agreeable. “Still. Even if the soul is different, the person is still similar. Like… I think I’ll always be friends with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, no matter how I’m born. But I understand.” As if to show that she understood, Bolormaas’ tail began to wave like a Miqo’tes.

The group returned to the airship landing, before pausing. Alphinaud cleared his throat. “It’s been nice meeting you, but our destinations now differ. May you ever walk in the light of the crystal,” he said - giving Alisaie a look. Alisaie let go of Minfilias’ hand…

…but before she followed her brother, she looked right at Minfilia. “Continue to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. I believe in you, Minfilia.”

They all parted. That is, until Minfilia heard Alisaie one last time.

“Do not trust Hydaelyn, Minfilia.”

But before she could ask what Alisaie meant— what Alisaie was implying— she was gone. As was Alphinaud. What—?

Bolormaa, of course, had been courted to join one of the Grand Companies - heading out soon after she returned. She had left alongside a dark Roegadyn ally, one who she claimed was another dear friend - hopefully, Minfilia would get a chance to meet her sometime. But Minfilia, meanwhile, stood firmly in front of Papalymo.

“Minfilia, are you familiar with the Sylph?” he asked, as he looked over the papers in front of him. “In recent moons, they’ve become more and more… agressive, in a way.”

Minfilia nodded to herself. “Before, I’ve met and worked with them. But their language was not easily understood.” It was a struggle, as she played her role, as she recalled. But the Warrior of Light and their Path Companion had helped so much… hm. It was strange, Minfilia thought, that she had not heard that system continuing. After all, it was important to work in pairs. Many empires had risen due to their pairings. And many had fallen due to pairs taking them down. Even Garlemald saw the strength of pairing people together - after all, Fordola had spoken of such.

One of her hands moved to pet Fordola. Perhaps they were a pair now? That would be rather interesting, wouldn’t it?

Papalymo nodded. “Well, then. You’ll not be surprised to hear I wish to send you to deliver a missive from Gridiana, to figure out what they’re planning. Gridiana has their hands full with the Ixal, and cannot endure a two-pronged battle.”

To be a good diplomat, you had to bury your true feelings. But before Minfilia could answer, Lyse burst in. “I wanna go too, Papalymo!”

Papalymo barely looked up. “You know why we keep you away from there, Lyse. After last time—”

“—Last time wasn’t my fault, though? And besides, Minfilia needs somebody who’s good with the forest!” Lyse retorted, moving right over to Minfilias’ side. Not that Minfilia knew what either of them were talking about - it was nice, as Lyse gripped her free hand.

Papalymo thought.

And he thought more, crossing his arms. “Only if you do not leave Minfilias’ side, Lyse. For any reason.” With his approval, Lyse beamed more - giving a half-salute. “Anyway. Minfilia, you are to recieve both the missive and gifts for the Sylph from the Twin Adders. You two— three are then to head into the East Shroud, to their colony. And no further, unless you absolutely need to.”

“Colony?” Minfilia asked.

“Oh, it’s the cutest little village!” Lyse said, before frowning. “Even if it really shouldn’t be that small. It’s overcrowded and the Sylph there tend to not bloom at all, due to the stress. You know, between the Garleans and those of them who’re purple and tempered.”

Minfilia shook her head. “Of course. But— if you don’t mind, I thought that only those taken by Ifrit were called tempered. I thought it depended on who did it—”

Fordola popped her head out, letting out a huff, and Minfilia shook her head again. “My apologies, Fordola. But still—”

“You have the right of it,” Papalymo said, “most of the time. We use the element of the Primal to name the term. For example, Leviathans’ are drowned, while Ramuhs’ are touched - short for levin-touched.”

Huffing, Lyse crossed her arms. “Does it matter if we know what we’re talking about? Same diff.”

Her tail lashing, Fordola nearly fell out of her bag. “Language has meanin’, ya know. Like… think about it. Doesn’t it piss ya off when people call Ala Mhigans nothin’ but warmongers?”

Lyse tensed, as Fordola continued. “But there’s people out there who love that title. Even some Ala Mhigans. But it’s better t’use the proper terms for things. People or not. It just fucks people up less!” Nodding slightly, Lyse tried to untense her arms and fists. “Also, I don’t see ya as a warmonger. My blood is Ala Mhigan.”

That made Lyse suddenly smile, softly. “Then— us three Ala Mhigans, headin’ though the Shroud. Won’t that be fun?”

Suddenly, Papalymo felt glad that he rarely left the office. Still, he looked between the three of them. “Remember. This is a mission - and failure could end with the reign of Ramuh.”

Of course, that was known by all three of them. They all left, to get prepared - and get a carriage hired to take them to the East Shroud.

The trip wouldn’t be too long, but Lyse still leaned a little as she watched Minfilia and Fordola. Fordola poked her head out the front window, watching the Chocobo run. She smelled a little of smoke, as she stretched out happily. “You know,” Fordola said, “that’s one thing I’ll give this place compared to places Garlemalds’ taken. The smell. You don’t smell cars, or new magitek, or… well, any of that.”

“Cars?” Minfilia asked, as she looked over to the other. Compared to Ydas’ caravan, this rental one was bare and plain. (Perhaps she would need to save up for her own.)

Fordola turned back, nodding. “Yeah, cars. They’re sort of like this, but without a Chocobo. I don’t know how they work, but rich bastards— well, people who’ve earned their rank in the Capital— they tend to drive around in ‘em. They’re super fast, as well. If one hit ya, well. It’s killed before.”

Lyse looked over. “So why don’t they bring them out here?”

“Because they’re fragile as shit, compared to war machines.”

Satisfied, Lyse laid back a bit more. Closing her eyes, letting out a content sigh. “Garlemald’s not just building war machines, then? From what I’ve heard about them, you’d swear that was all they did.”

Tottling back into the caravan, the wind-up Ifrit-sized creature now known as Fordola climbed onto the basic table. “Unlike you, Mhigan, I’m very familiar with Garlemald. Seen what they do for myself.”

Lyse looked down at her, without moving her head. “Oh yeah? And what do they do, hm? Other then fucking over Ala Mhigans, I mean.”

“If Ala Mhigans didn’t fight ‘em, they’d be a lot more well off,” Fordola retorted, “but I bet you wouldn’t understand. Garlemald gave me an education. They gave me power. And Doma seems pretty well-off, ya know?”

Lyse snarled. “Garlemald likely fed ya lies. And besides - what kind of life could you have? If anything, you’re not better then a slave!”

Again, Fordola hissed. “And what would you know about that, huh? Have you ever had t’fight for your life, because you didn’t have th’means to choose otherwise?” The tiny lizard was nearly breathing fire, the flames building in her mouth. “Or didn’t ya need to choose which side ya chose.”

Her own voice loud, Lyse shook her head - feeling something building in her throat. “You have no idea— sure, I didn’t choose which side I fought for—”

“Who chose, then!”

Minfilia listened to them both. She didn’t feel she had to step in, not yet, as Lyse looked right into Fordolas’ eyes, her voice growing deadly serious. “My elder sister. Yda. She knows more about Garlemald then you ever will.”

“—how.” Fordola did not believe Lyse. Really, it sounded like a big-ass lie.

“Well, for one, she got taken back to the capital six years ago,” Lyse said, suddenly looking away. “Though, uh. Trust me?”

Fordola did not. Still, she put a claw to her face. Where her deep purple tattooes remained - she was so thankful. “…Tell me, then. If your sister had chosen Garlemald, because she saw it as a better future, would you have chosen them? And don’t give me any bullshit over it being against your morals.”

Lyse went oddly quiet. Looking a little pained, as she considered it. “If I did that, then I probably wouldn’t have found the Scions. And I’d be a lot different.” It seemed that the entire mood in the caravan had changed, as Lyse wrung her hands. As she looked at herself, gripping her hands together. “But… I can’t say I wouldn’t be workin’ with Garlemald. Even if, y’know, that’d probably mean I’d be a different person.

—Still. We can’t change the past, can we?” Lyse finished, gulping a little. “Somebody important to you chose Garlemald, right?”

Fordola nodded, as she curled up on the table. “They chose Garlemald. And for that, I was nearly bloody stoned to death.”

“—wait, what?” Lyse said, snapping out of her mood. “That’s babaric— even for our enemies— how old were you!?”

“A child,” Fordola huffed, “young enough to have not seen any of the bloodshed.”

Lyse looked from Minfilia, to Fordola, mouth wide. “I— I can sort of see why you’d choose Garlemald, then. If Ala Mhigans tried to kill a child…”

“Doesn’t matter now.” Fordola stretched more, looking up at Lyse with a serious gaze. “Now I’m a conscript for you Scions. Or— whatever my role is. Garlemald would kill me.”

“Not true,” Lyse said, “I think that If they had a Primal who was loyal to them, Garlemald would instead use you to create new weapons. Probably hiding the source, though. So, not death. A lot of torture, though.”

“…I don’t know if you really know bullshit or you’re making up bullshit,” Fordola admitted. But it sounded right, and that’s what made Fordola a little concerned. Maybe this odd other Ala Mhigan was telling the truth.

Fordola then froze a little, feeling a hand on her back— oh. It was Minfilia, beginning to stroke her as she spoke to Lyse. “Lyse, please. Tone down the horror, please. If you speak that way to the Sylph, we’re liable to get turned into mulch. Or worse.”

Lyse shrugged. “Fine, fine. But I’m right.”

Minfilia was swift in Gridiana, for she didn’t wish to linger long. Fordola kept her head popped out of her bag - but Lyse couldn’t help but move over towards the markets. She had gil to spare, after all. And she felt a little guilty, honestly, for going off at the… Garlean lizard. Okay, so she might have been in the right, but she had a duty to do.

But meanwhile, Minfilia gave a firm salute to Vorsaile Heuloix. While her gaze did not waver, Minfilia took a firm step forward, towards the Elezen. “Good evening, Commander. I have been sent from the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, to aid with your current issues.”

The commander looked down at her - likely seeing her like some form of adventurer - and gave a grim nod. “Aye, your little bird sings true. No doubt you’ve heard that we’re investigating the sylphs - that curious beast tribe that calls the depths of the Twelveswood home. The sylphs are, for the most part, a peaceable bunch - much to the delight of the Elder Seedseer, who has no desire to see her people embroiled in yet another fruitless war.

The Twin Adder is of the same mind, and ‘tis precisely for this reason that the sylphs’ relation to the primal Ramuh has raised a flag of warning amongst our ranks.”

Minfilia tapped her fingers, as he continued. “Friendly as they may appear, beastmen will be beastmen.” Of course. Of course, Minfilia thought. That is just how people saw the Sylph - like any other beast. Like they saw the Ixal, or even the Amalj’aa. But she would not protest, even if her dislike was painted firmly on her face. Seemingly ignoring the expression, the Twin Adder Commander continued.

“Do we strike at Ramuh, or leave the sylphs to their own ways? That is the question, yet I find myself lacking ample knowledge to arrive at an answer.

Opinions abound within Gridania, but to listen only to one’s own is among the greatest mistakes a commander can make.

I would hear from the other side─the sylphs themselves─and seek an impartial party to serve as my liaison. That is where you Scions come in.”

Minfilia put a hand to herself. “Of course. Due to my abilities, I am able to speak with them clearly.”

Vorsaile shook his head, with a smile. “The sylphs of Little Solace remain untempered, and have held many a productive dialogue with our people. I would hear their candid thoughts on their tempered brethren.

That said, I urge you to exercise due caution. Sylphic tradition and etiquette bear little resemblance to our own. It would not do to have any cross-cultural faux pas get in the way of a productive parley. Pray, are you familiar with the Hawthorne Hut? I would have you meet with my fellow officer there, in order to–”

That’s when Lyse returned, bouncing a little, holding a box. “Oh, don’t worry! I can help her - but I guess we’ll wanna talk to others!” Vorsaile raised an eyebrow at Lyse, before Lyse raised her own hand. “Been a while, huh? Since… you know. The incident. I’ve pretty much healed up!”

“Physically or mentally?” Vorsaile asked, looking over the young woman. Lyse let out a chuckle, and Minfilia tilted her head. “In any case, I would have you meet with Amelain, just in case.”

And with that, the three ladies set out. They went to the ferry docks, getting into the boat. Minfilia had to ask, though. “Lyse…

…what happened?”

Lyse raised a hand. “Wait a second. Fordola, I have a gift for you and Minfilia. That sack… no offense, but it looks thrown together,” she said, as she offered out the box.

Gently, Minfilia opened it - and couldn’t help but smile. A small sling-style bag, the sort used for a smaller animal. It was in the royal Ala Mhigan colours - a deep purple with yellow trim. And had see though windows, so that Fordola could see out of it…

It’d look a little weird for a mammet, but Fordola climbed in. “…it’s soft.” Fordola said, quietly. And that was true - there were cushions sewn into the bottom. She looked over at Lyse, and chuckled. “Guess I should thank ya.”

Lyse stretched out. “Think nothing of it. Really, it’s more for Minfilia then you.”

Minfilia smiled to herself. Thank the Twelve that their argument got out their anger… and yet… “This won’t stop me from asking what happened here, Lyse.”

Lyse raised a hand. “Can it wait until afterwards? Don’t worry, the Sylph forgave me.

…no? Okay. Fiiine. A few years back, me and Papalymo were here trying to smuggle out some people, a Sylphic artifact sort of got given to me, it ended up changing me. But after a lot of therapy I’m back to normal.”

Minfilia couldn’t help but stare, blankly. Why was Lyse like this…?

—And then Minfilia felt the pain of an Echo coming on. Ripping into her soul, as Lyse reached out for her…!