Lahabrea and Igeyorhm were not the only Ascians in the Coerthas Central Highlands. But unlike them, Nabriales had chosen not to wear his robes. He had ever-so-slightly altered his form - Elezen ears covered by a warm hat. A fancy, warm hat. He felt naked without his mask on, as well, but it was easier to blend in if he pretended. For all anybody could tell, he was an Ishgardian machinist. Well, except for the fact he was far more Ivalician-looking then he wanted. No matter. Ivalice didn’t exist anymore.

The last fragments of it had burned away to nothing within a lifetime. All that remained was the tree he guarded. And Nabriales liked it that way.

Good. He could feel the presense of another - one he’d listened about, one who seemed perfect. It was time to play his part, as the snows faded. Ah - that would make it easier. Less struggle seeing the others’ face, those tiny expressions that meant the world.

Haurchefant Fortemps, as always, had been drawn to look over Ishgard. To where he wished to belong - but where he never could. It was a quiet vigil, but it was something he did when he wondered why. And with words of more heretics spreading, his heart bled. What had happened to his beautiful home, to cause so many to slip? Haurchefant sat, eyes unmoving. The cliffs below roared with aether, but he felt serene in this one moment.

Haurchefant did not expect company, nor did he expect it to be an outsider. His eyes narrowed as he heard footsteps though the fresh snow - but when he did not feel blade nor scale at his head, he looked back. Ah…

“I believe the cannons here are still broken,” Haurchefant commented, assuming this traveler was simply here to shore up defenses. “My apologies for not being at my post.”

“No, no,” Nabriales said, raising his hands with a little laugh. “I’m not here for repairs. Though, it is nice we’re away from others.” He moved to sit next to the knight, quietly. “I’ve heard of the recent changes.”

Haurchefant sighed, still scanning the other for a sign of what house he belonged to. Perhaps a minor one? Politics were politics, and he hated them. “It’s quite the struggle. Nobody is trusted - not even the most loyal.” He’d gotten such letters from beyond the Gates. Then again, none were allowed to leave without a good reason.

Nabriales let out a bitter laugh. “Did they ever trust their most loyal? I gave my life for Ishgard, and even with noble blood, I’ve been disowned.”

Oh? Haurchefant looked into the others’ eyes, and couldn’t see any lies. Nabriales continued, voice soft. But still prickly, in the way Haurchefant thought was from being former nobility. “They thought one of my scars looked too scaled. I was exiled. I thought you would listen, at the very least.

I’m no heretic, Haurchefant.” And was Nabriales lying? He wasn’t a heretic, himself. “I believe it’s the same with those of House Haillenarte. Why would they not plan their changes to happen out of the public eye?”

“Exactly!” Haurchefant said, his eyes shining a little, beginning to trust the other. “‘tis not their way to be this open! I believe that they are being framed.” Haurchefant, however, slumped slightly - his excitement fades. “But I cannot do enough. Of course I would say my dear friends aren’t heretic.”

Nabriales knew this was his chance. “I do not know if it would help, but… I have a charm I was gifted. Perhaps you could use it? I believe it was from a heretic - I have not the resources to look into it, alas, or where it may have come from.” Nabriales got out a small green charm, decorated with feathers. “And if not, it could be a pledge of allyship from me. I still wish to clear my name - it’s not right for them to want me for a lie.”

Haurchefant took it - examining it. “Hmm… this seems to be Vanu Vanu in origin, I would say? But I’ll take it.

…I think my break is over, my new friend,” Haurchefant said, standing. “My apologies, I didn’t catch your name?”

Nabriales stood, dusting himself off of snow and dust both. Looking to the mark of Menphina, sighed. What name would be appropriate…? “Balthier. You may call me Balthier.”

If the Warrior of Light came for Haurchefant, then they wouldn’t know it was him. Even if he had heard rumours of Belias stirring - he doubted that Belias would trust anybody again, his name was safe. “Oh, and Haurchefant?”

Haurchefant looked to him with a smile, as Nabriales smirked. “Do be safe, okay?” With a nod of agreement, Haurchefant turned away… not noticing Nabriales teleporting away. It was a pity, then, that Haurchefant had been fooled.

For as he got closer to the split in the road, closer to Witchdrop, a screech echoed though the still air. The Ixal - those who often left them alone, for they were more interested in the Black Shroud.

But it was time for them to bring forth their God. And, as Nabriales had taught them, they needed a sacrifice - one he would choose out, give them a signal though a charm said to belong to Garuda. Haurchefant drew his blade as the birdmen approached, scratching and screaming at him, overwhelming him.

None saw Haurchefant Fortemps fall. None heard him as he was silenced, pulled away, taken towards the Ixal homeland.

And Nabriales watched from the shadows, his heart beating fast. Four sacrifices. Four Primal. Would the Warrior of Light continue, or would they not? Either way, everything would work out. He could leave the rest for now, and return to his resting place.

Minfilia Warde was still stuck asleep, the trauma of sealing Titan pumping though her aether. Bolormaa had laid her by the aetheryte in Camp Bronze Lake, but looked down at Y’shtola - an awkward look on her face. “Can you transport her the rest of the way?” She had stayed too long, already - though Bolormaa wished she could be there for her fellow Warrior of Light. Fordola stood on Minfilias’ leg, glancing back at Minfilia every few moments. The last times hadn’t done this. Her tiny claws were leaving tiny burn marks, and yet nothing happened.

Y’shtola bit her lip, but then looked up to Bolormaa. “You had obligations. If worst comes to worst, we can ask the Esper,” she replied, tail flicking. She knew this moment would come - and her expression shifted to a soft smile. “I do not know what you do when you go to your Naadam, but I expect you to return when you are ready.”

With a wave goodbye, Bolormaa focused - and teleported away. Y’shtola was left with Fordola and Minfilia. With a confident stride, she walked over to the Chocobokeep. “I require a ride to Limsa Lominsa, alongside my companion. We must needs report to the Maelstrom.”

The Chocobokeep looked her over, and gave a firm nod. “One of my big birds should be enough.” With a slight twitch of his head, Y’shtola looked to the bird. Ah, one for Roegadyn and Hrothgar, she supposed. (If Hrothgar were common around here.) While she did not have the strength of Bolormaa, her and the Chocobokeep moved Minfilias’ unmoving body onto the bird. “Is she going to be okay? If you have time, might want to soak her longer.”

Y’shtola looked back to the waters, before looking back up at the Roegadyn. “I believe she’ll be better served returning to our home. If she does not rouse from her slumber, then…”

Then she’d need to send Minfilia back on a boat, alone. Or, again, try and figure out how to summon the Esper that Minfilia had etched on her back. How much had Minfilia sacrificed her body and soul for the good of them all? Y’shtola moved to brush some hair off of Minfilias’ face - and her fingers hesitated as she felt fluff where there shouldn’t be. On her ears.

Unlike Miqo’te, Hyur ears were meant to be fleshy. The bird had already began to move, so she had to keep one hand on the Chocobo - but her other could explore, as she felt Minfilia changing.

Fordola popped up out of Minfilias’ side bag, staring up. “Let me take a look,” she said. “You focus on gettin’ us back.” Y’shtola let out a sigh. Girlfriends, she assumed.

Still, Fordola could also crawl up and cling easier - hanging on to the back of Minfilias’ top. Moving her hair using her own head, Fordola could see it. Minfilias’ ears had become fur covered, and were at least as long as an Elezens. No, they were still growing? Fordola thought back, and then she let out a little grumble. “Oi. Remember how she got scales after helping me— uh, yeah, she did. D’ya think she’s…”

“Taking on traits from those who summoned Titan, yes.” Y’shtola tried to bury her guilt. When Minfilia woke, and once they were settled, and once their reports were done - she would make sure to call the Scions together to discuss their next move. To cure her. Or, at least, to not have her hurt more.

Was this what happened to the former Warrior of Light? Had they turned into a monster and vanished - she knew that Ifrit and Garuda had been summoned before - alongside an odd Moogle-esque Primal. Rumours of Titan and Leviathan being prepped for summoning had been false, thankfully. Even with Titan being stopped this easily, it had been a calamity of its’ own when the Company of Heroes had to lose so many to quell it.

Thankfully, Y’shtola didn’t need to guide the Chocobo. La Noscea was a large land - but the well-maintained paths made it easier and easier to get around. At least they were maintained as well.

“…Hey, Y’shtola?”

Y’shtola was interupted by Fordola, as Fordola looked behind them - they were passing though Eastern La Noscea. There was a Castrum that Fordola looked back towards. “That’s Castrum Occidens, I think. Why haven’t the Maelstrom stormed it?” It wasn’t a good position for the Empire. None of this was, really - but especially when they could be attacked from sea and land both.

Y’shtola twitched her tail. “I believe it’s because the Maelstrom is more concerned with the Kobold threat. As long as they remain ready to strike, they believe the Garleans won’t strike back.

…you were part of them. What would your plan be, in that situation?”

Fordola continued to groom Minfilia as she spoke, without thinking. “Well, I’d be waiting for more assistance from the sky. The position by the sea might not seem to be an advantage, but Emperor Solus is quite knowledgable of the seas- and likely approved of the location for a reason.” Fordola continued to think, tail flicking. “Lord van Darnus, meanwhile, would have wished to establish anywhere that could call to Dalamud.

…do you think Lord van Darnus was enthralled?”

“Likely, yes,” Y’shtola replied curtly. “We now know Dalamud held a Primal. Garlemald likely did not - but why else would he do what he did?”

It didn’t take any time for Fordola to reply. “Greed. Power. Or a desire to purge this land of not just beastmen, but all Eorzeans. Lord van Baelsar never respected him.” Fordola remembered, quietly, watching Dalamud fall herself. “I don’t either.”

“But you respect him enough to use his title?”

That made Fordola pause. Y’shtola had a point. …Well, actually, she didn’t. “Even if I don’t respect Lord van Darnus, I can respect his rank. It is the same with all Garleans. Like… it’s actually pretty fuckin’ rude when people don’t call me pyr Lupis?

Except, uh. I think I’m not accepted anymore.” Fordola hadn’t realised she was basically yelling into Minfilias’ ear, firey anger building. She’d worked so hard, she’d pushed forward so much, but now… now, what was she?

But then, a hand went to pet her, to quiet her. And it wasn’t Y’shtola.

Minfilia was beginning to wake, beginning to stretch - her legs gripping around the Chocobo, as Limsa Lominsa appeared in the background. She yawned, showing her now-pointed teeth. Small whiskers poked out of her face, as she looked to the two of them. Looked to Y’shtola.

Before slumping, tiredly. “…we’re to make our report anon, then? Where is Titan…?”

Y’shtola shook her head. “No. First, we need to get you cleaned up and caught up. I can afford an inn room.

Then, yes, we shall make our report.”