The meeting with the Kobold had taken not only hours, but days. Minfilia Warde had been run ragged, but she had managed to negotiate terms without revealing her ability to stop Titan. But it was uneasy - she would need to convince Limsa Lominsa as well. She would need to convince Merlwyb. And before that could happen, she had to stop Titan. Quietly, she rested against Alisaie, in a tent set up by Camp Bronze Lake. But it wasn’t just them - but a Tonberry who had not yet been carried off. One of them cuddled up to Minfilia, looking up to her - with gentle eyes, and small pinkish ribbons on their head. This Tonberry had not spoken since being brought out, nor did they seem to want to be carried by the mostly-dragon Ishgardian who had soared off and returned, again and again.

But as Minfilia rested, and as Alisaie slipped into a half-sleep, Chlodebaimt landed by the tent. “That’s the last one, right?” he asked, voice a little gruff. “There’s a bit of an issue over in Mor Dhona, but the King of the Gigas is trying to talk it out.”

“What kind of issue?” Minfilia asked, perking up.

Chlodebaimt sighed. “The King of the Gigas believes that it’s better if the Tonberry are given fresh air. However, there are people nearby - and so, he’s also afraid they’ll be hurt.”

“It’s because they don’t have a person to negotiate, right?” Minfilia asked, moving to stand - her body feeling so tired. “I think I can handle coming to help before I fight Titan - Y’shtola and Bolormaa informed me they will not be able to arrive until tomorrow, at the very least.”

Alisaie lazily looked up from her sleepy state. “You’re overworking yourself.”

Minfilia knew. But, as she began to focus on teleporting, she also knew she promised she’d help the Tonberry. She noticed Fordola jumping out as well - Fordola sitting by Alisaie. Of course she was going to not come to more negotiations.

As Minfilia vanished, a few moments passed, and Chlodebaimt sighed. “Hand over that last Tonberry,” he said, kneeling down. Examining them with soft eyes, which barely looked Elezen anymore. “…Tonberries used to be people, didn’t they?”

Alisaie nodded. “They used to be Lalafell. Feeling a kinship, Ishgardian?”

Chlodebaimt couldn’t lie to himself. Even if he hated himself. He hated this, that every day he lost himself - and he could hear a slight hum, far away, within his mind. It was the Song, wasn’t it. The Dragonsong. “…It’s different,” he eventually mumbled, as the Tonberry wandered into his fluffy arms. His thick claws curled around them, and Chlodebaimt was about to take off. That is, until Alisaie spoke again.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Chlodebaimt took off. As soon as he was out of earshot, Fordola looked up at Alisaie. “You know something, don’t you?”

Chuckling to herself a little, Alisaie leaned back. “Yeah. I know the truth behind their war. But I don’t think they’d believe me.” Beginning to wrap up her winged arms, hiding her corruption, Alisaie smiled to herself. “Otherwise I would have told them all. No, they need to figure that out themselves. But…

…less people need to die this time. Anyway, Fordola?” Alisaie asked, standing up, getting out her weapon. A carefully preserved bow. “Wanna train?”

It still felt wrong, in Mor Dhona. Minfilia had an odd headache as she arrived at the Aetheryte, standing close to the few tents that made up the settlement. She placed a hand to her head - it almost felt like an Echo, but also did not. She could see things that weren’t there - more buildings, more people. But it vanished, in that moment. Right. She’d need to head towards the campsite again, and then go to see Belias—

—or, at least, she thought that was what she needed to do. But as she passed the wreckage of the Agrius, she realised that she need not move that far. The Sons of Saint Coinach had their settlement, but there were Gigas around there - Belias among them, standing in front of his people. A firey barrier seperated them, Belias snorting loud enough to hear from a distance. Ground turning to crystal, Minfilia only slipped a little as she rushed over.

“Belias! What’s going on?” she asked, before looking to the people. Among them, she could recognize Rammbroes instantly. He’d aged, sure, but she recalled him as one of the Circle of Knowing. Swiftly, she stood close to the flames. “My apologies for how late I am.

My name is Minfilia Warde, and I am one of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, tasked with aiding many tribes.” She was out of breath, and the smoke wasn’t helping. But Minfilia stood firm. Belias let out another snort, as the flames lowered slightly. “One of them is the gigas. Pray, tell me what the issue is.”

Both sides seemed to be waiting for the other to begin talking - thankfully, one side broke the silence - another Roegadyn, in a heavy robe. “We have been moving south towards the Crystal Tower, you see,” the Roegadyn - Wandering Breeze- said. “But whenever we get close, the gigas attack! And now, they’ve been coming closer and closer to our settlement!”

“Bah,” Belias snorted, looking down at them. “We have our reasons. Our current land is barely enough to sustain us. Your research disrupts important locations.”

Looking up at the massive gigas, Wandering Breeze tried to steel his resolve. “We know. You seek a new home upon the ground - and we seek knowledge under it.”

Minfilia listened. Before looking up to Belias. “Belias. May I ask what is so important about the Crystal Tower, to you and yours?”

Already, the group seemed amazed that this Gigas could talk. That it understood common. “The Crystal Tower is a holy symbol to them. A Lighthouse, similar to one from their myths.” A pause, as Belias sneered under his mask, bitterness radiating. “Yes. My people have myths and stories both.”

Taking a step forward, Belias snarled - and the Sons stepped backwards. Except for Rammbroes, who stood in front of his people. “They are simply not mineless brutes, to be slain like cattle.” With every word, Belias grew angrier and angrier. That is, until Minfilia raised her hand - and he stepped back again.

Minfilia quietly looked around. “I must admit, the extra people that have been taken in with the Gigas were my idea. They, too, are scholars - they are from Nymian times.” A deep breath, as she took a firm step towards Rammbroes. “Perhaps they could work with you? Even if they may not look like a Spoken race as we know them, they once were Lalafell. Or so I have been taught.”

Her heart ached as she talked, looking upwards. Feeling nerves building. “I understand this will not aid in the conflict with the gigas. For the Sons of Saint Coinath study Allag, do they not?” Her mind was racing. She had to come up with solutions, but—

Belias snorted, lowering his head, a symbolic gesture - his decisions were up to her. Rammbroes gave a little smile to the Midlander before him - a little surprised at how feisty she was. And yet, her heart was nearly worn on her sleeve. What would he say? What could he do? Could he trust her words? Minfilia then continued, eyes burning with passion. “Please. I am certain we can find a way to allow the gigas their worship, and your people their research. This is not a plea coming from the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.

If anything goes wrong, you can blame me.”

So earnest… Rammbroes looked from her, to Belias. “You’ve thought this out a lot, haven’t you? Perhaps there’s something we can do - if we can talk with the gigas.” Before Minfilia could get too excited, he frowned. “But don’t hold your breath. Some of their kind attack on sight.”

“Aye,” Belias said, voice booming, “because your kind attack them on sight. Or enslave them. Or do worse. We can both paint each others’ people with generalities.” And unlike these people, Belias had seen so many people. So much growing worse and worse. Minfilia put a hand to him, the flames gone - some gigas snarling and trembling.

Quietly, Minfilia closed her eyes. “A truce, then. A truce, but also, requests for mining or seeking relics must be either sent to Belias, or—”

—speak of the devil. The mostly-dragon soared over them, having arrived all the way from La Noscea. In his arms was a small green bundle of Tonberry. Landing behind Belias, Minfilia noted that Chlodebaimt hid his face now - burying it in his fluffy neck. His armour, as well, had long since been changed from Ishgardian - now a simple guard to protect his chest. The Tonberry in his arms looked up at the group, and let out a tiny squeak. “Or you may ask our friend here. That, at least, may stop the fighting… for now.”

Did she make sense? Minfilia suddenly felt a tiredness in her body, suddenly felt bile in her throat. And for the few seconds before they spoke, she was terrified of what everybody would say.

Rammbroes gave a firm nod. “As long as they keep their side of the agreement, I don’t see a reason not to try it out. Talking it out in the Sharlayan way, that is.” Minfilia felt relief, as Belias nodded and snorted approvingly. She barely noticed herself falling to her knees, as a few tears left her eyes. A large claw stroked her side, and Belias helped her as she leaned to one side.

Chlodebaimt looked between the groups, a little confused. Before giving a little smile, awkwardly. “Ah… this is the last one, Lord Belias. She’s a little timid.”

“Good,” Belias said quietly, not really looking at the knight. “These ones will also get to work with you - safely?”

Rammbroes nodded, a little slower. “As long as you’re not lying about them, either. We could use more researchers out here—”

“—they will need housing. The mountains are running out of room,” Belias then said. Minfilia then got an idea.

“Not many people go to the other side of the lake, do they? Because of the mountains. What if we began to set up houses there?”

Everybody looked to Minfilia, with a mix from bemusement to entertainment, to even excitement. It was one of the more harried researchers who spoke out now, a little look in their eyes. “I suppose that’d lessen the burden traveling from Revenant’s Toll and back… but houses don’t spring up in a day.”

“Then,” Minfilia said, “we use Chocobo carriages, until supplies can be procured. They’re often set up for adventurers to live in, now aren’t they?” Honestly, now, Minfilia was making it up as she went. But the idea was a sound one - and Rammbroes nodded, in thought.

He was tapping his foot, and then spoke quietly. “It could work. Our travel budget is a lot more then it should be - we could re-assign it to temporary housing for us and these green ones. And we could exchange some artifacts for more funding - we’ve been finding a lot of these thin slabs.” Rammbroes stated, unpocketing a few Allagan Tomestones of Philosophy. They glowed a deep blue, but really, even they couldn’t figure out what to do with them. For a moment, though, Minfilia felt that odd headache again. As if they shouldn’t— these things shouldn’t exist. Not anymore.

Still, she gave a soft nod. “That sounds agreeable. Now… pardon me, but I must be off. I am actually needed elsewhere… but please, pray do not fight as soon as I leave.” With that, Minfilia began to walk off - her tiredness visible. Slowly, the two groups began to disperse - to discuss how they will meet later, how they will both draft their points.

As they walked, though, Chlodebaimt clung to the Tonberry in his arms. Well, more like she clung to him. Belias finally looked down… and his footsteps slowed. His hands shuddered.

“…Did you get this ones name?” Belias asked, in a whisper. Chlodebaimt shook his head, and Belias swore internally. For he could feel a familiar presense. Why had so many familiar beings begun to gather?

Was this fate? If so, the fates were cruel. To gift one such as Penelo such a fate - for her to have fallen ill like this. Or, at least, for one of her future lives to have fallen this sickly. But as their eyes met - the Tonberry and the Gigas - he could see more.

She recognized him. Just as he recognized her. Her flipper reached up, before she flinched. And closed her eyes.

Quietly, Chlodebaimt looked up at Belias. “My lord…?”

Belias turned to return to his caverns. “Make sure she has a comfortable room. And keep me updated on if she talks. Please.

…please.”