It was dusk - a few nights later - when Minfilia returned to Vesper Bay. Lutia had calmed quickly, and was easy to guide. The bird, in fact, was a lot tamer then other chocobo with the same reddish hue. Tying the Chocobo up in the stables, Minfilia was a little confused - Ydas’ birds weren’t there, nor were any of the others. Perhaps a mission had come up? But then there were the whispers. A few people looked at Minfilia, wondering if she was some form of undead. Especially if she moved towards the Waking Sands. Or had she caused what happened?

The smell also wasn’t something Minfilia couldn’t ignore. A deep sweetness filled the air, one that made Minfilias’ stomach turn - for she knew what it meant. Oh gods. Her body trembled. Bile filled her throat, and Minfilia looked at Fordola as if to ask if she smelled it too. Silently, Fordola nodded, and Minfilias’ movements sped up. She had to get inside. The door was stuck closed, wood propped against it from within, but a firm kick got it open. Minfilia Warde was not able to stop herself from stumbling forward, only stopping herself by holding onto the railings. The room looked oddly calm - no papers out of place. Gods… just what had happened here? Before Minfilia could move again, though, Fordola suddenly dug her claws into the others’ arm.

“Calm the fuck down!”

Minfilia stared at the other, and Fordola barked at her. “I get it. This is fucked up! But you can’t just— you know?!” Lose herself in the panic, Fordola wishes she could say. Minfilia nodded meekly, standing herself up a tiny bit more firmly. Right. Her knuckles had turned pale from gripping onto the railing, but they could make their way down. Together.

Her footsteps were light, cautious, down the stairs. Every moment, she tried to listen for activities - for people talking, for the scratch of chairs being pushed around, for anything.

Nothing. Her worst fears were realised as she opened the lower door, with blood stained into the wooden tiles below. It had already dried. Corpses had already been removed. Were they all— oh gods. They were all dead, weren’t they? Driven by pure fear, Minfilia moved towards the Solar.

The room seemed empty. But there was less blood. Hopefully, that meant that Papalymo escaped. Tupsimati stood above the desk still - whoever did this did not dare steal the weapon. Perhaps they did not know about it. As Minfilia paced, however, she noticed… white fur had been shed. But not as white as Y’shtolas’ hair, even if they seemed like Miqo’te fur. Y’shtola might not have returned by the time this— this thing happened. Minfilia had not seen any other Miqo’te with hair this pale. She picked up some - before she heard something from the other room. Quiet footsteps. No— it sounded more feral then mere footsteps. Cautiously, Minfilia put her hand on her dagger, and tiptoed in that direction. The door was open, broken off its hinge.

And in the shadows of the room was a man dressed in Garleans robes. She had been trying to hold herself back, but Minfilia saw the black and red - and the stains, she could smell the stains - and she could not help it. Minfilia leaped into action, closing the gap between them, tackling down the quite honestly terrified Garlean-robed Miqo’te. Garlemald did this. Garlemald robbed her of her people, didn’t it?! Of course it did! “Why did you do it!?” Minfilia shouted, not noticing tears dripping from her eyes, not noticing her hands growing too tight around her weapons.

Who had the wider eyes? It was impossible to tell. The Garlean conscript stared up at her, lips wavering, voice stolen by shock and fear both. Minfilia continued to shout, trying to mask her own anger at herself. (Why hadn’t she been there—!?) “You killed them, didn’t you?! You killed them all!

I— how dare you?” Perhaps she was more similar to Belias then she thought, as she held the knife to the terrified man. Her knife dug into his flesh, and he stared up at her.

It took a little time for him to find his voice, between Minfilias’ anger and his own shock. “—They’re not all dead,” he managed to choke out - but Minfilia did not move. So he continued. “Some of— some of them were taken.”

“How,” was all that Minfilia could ask, and the man gave her a little whimper. Staring right into her eyes.

“A— a masked mage gave us access. Livia sas Junius— and us soldiers. She decided it’d be lethal once w-we arrived—” the dagger moved closer to his flesh, and he felt his voice leaving him again. “—the Archons were spared for their crimes— for their crimes from five years ago.”

…ah. So it wasn’t any of the former Path who survived. That was worse somehow. Minfilia couldn’t help but let out a guttural scream. The now clearly a conscripted man flinched again, before looking her in the eyes. Trying to reach her, to speak to her as a person. “Please. I don’t want to die.”

Minfilia stayed her blade for a moment. “Do you think they wanted to die? Do you think they wanted to be killed by Garleans?”

“Of course not!” he replied, trying not to waver now. “I didn’t want to kill them! Why do you think I’m still here?”

Within that moment, Minfilia suddenly realised. Why would only one be left? It wasn’t like he was going to kill anybody else. As she shifted on top of him, she could feel the way his leg did not properly move, and she realised he had at least one broken limb. He was left here to die.

And then, she looked at him a little closer. She put her dagger to her side, and forced off his helmet, and she knew that face. She’d seen him before, if only in a vision.

“Prastha,” Minfilia stated - his eyes widening more as she said his name. An ally to the Scions. Quietly, she got off of him - before beginning to channel aether though her body. Oddly enough, some parts of her body began to slightly glimmer - mostly parts of her which mirrored the strange tattoos on Lightnings’ friends. She focused on his leg, first of all - stilling magics setting the bones, mending the pain, and curing any pain. Her expression did not calm, however, a slight drip of blood coming from her mouth.

Before Prastha could speak, she looked to his face. “How far did you go? How much has the Empire poisoned you?”

Prastha gave a little cough, staring at her, voice growing quiet. “…I’ve taken lives before. Innocent lives.” His brown eyes grew dull, as he looked away, to the side. “But my role was not as a soldier, not usually.

…My name is Prastha sas Aelius. I wasn’t born as Prastha, but— uh.” He looked to Minfilia, and the Ifrit in her bag. The tiny Ifrit who was saluting, without thought. “Why is— I mean, I’m not going to stop it, but—”

Minfilia sighed, taking a break from her healing to get Fordola out of her pocket. “She was once with the Empire, before she was used as a sacrifice for a Primal summoning. Her mind is intact, but her body…

…but you likely know that Primal are being summoned,” Minfilia said harshly. Fordola let out a little laugh to herself.

She did not lower her arms. “Fordola pyr Lupis, of the Ala Mhigan Lupi.” Even now, she was… well. She continued to eye him, for she had heard of him before. The double agent. Fuckin’ hell.

Prasthas’ ears pricked up, and he looked to her. “So that’s what happened. I… heard rumours that you’d died during your mission. That’s why Livia was—”

“—wait,” Minfilia said, standing. “We’re moving to the meeting room. If it hasn’t been destroyed, that is.” She wanted to see Prastha walk, honestly, to see if her healing had worked. But, also, it would be better if they sat equal.

Fordola had been hunting down somebody, likely related to Yda, from what Minfilia had figured out. Perhaps now she could learn the truth.

The meeting room was a lot different with only three of them. Fordola had settled on the table, between Prastha and Minfilia - illuminating the room. Prastha was against the wall - he couldn’t escape. Now that he was easier to look over, Minfilia noticed lots of little marks over his flesh. But what was more interesting was that he truly did look like some sort of mix of Hrothgar and Miqo’te - his face had a light fluff over it, as did his now-visible hands. He let out a deep, long sigh.

“I was unable to tell anybody about this. Even Gaius kept it secret,” Prastha began. All eyes were on him. “As you may know, I have worked with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn for a long time. Even before they took on that name, I was their ally.” And yet, he did not make himself known to the Path of the Twelve. And yet, he was a secret to Minfilia. She listened, though, as he wrung out his hands. “It was though them that I learned of the missing Garlean noble. You may even call her a noble.”

“…Yda, right?” Minfilia asked quietly, and Prastha nodded. “I couldn’t tell she was Garlean.”

Quietly, Prastha half-reached for his own hair. “She grew her hair out to hide her third eye. I once heard she’d begged for it removed, after she— after she was saved for the second time.”

“When she was declared dead?” Minfilia asked, looking to her hands. She remembered just how hard Lyse mourned. And then, Lyses choice… she’d need to talk to Lyse about that later. How did Yda react? “Pray, why is she so important? Garlemald has little use for family lines, or so I’ve heard. Unless—”

The realisation hit Minfilia like a sack of bricks, and she stared. Begging silently for Prastha to not confirm it, Prastha had to break the news gently.

“Yda Hext is an identity which she was given when she left Garlemald.

Her name was Yulia wir Galvus. Elder sister to Varis yae Galvus, and eldest grandchild of Solus zos Galvus.”

Everything went quiet. It seemed that Minfilia was trying to even reason though it, until a sharp voice cut though the dire mood. Fordola.

“What the FUCK. What the fucking fuck! I wasn’t even told— she’s the fuckin’ missin’ Galvus?! Th’one th’Emperor would pay a shit-ton of… anything to reclaim?!”

“The very same,” Prastha said calmly. “Though, before you ask - I do not know why. Perhaps they are sentimental?” It was just a guess, said with a shoulder shrug. Fordola began to pace, letting out quiet swears as she did.

Minfilia was no less shocked, but was a lot less angry in her words. “And thus, that is who Fordola was sent to capture. Her failure meant that they needed another plan… and eventually, they found where Yda worked.

And they… they also wished to arrest the Archons for their part in the near-end of Project Meteor. Am I correct?”

Prastha nodded. Minfilia let out a soft wail. “…I cannot make up for this— horrific accident, Minfilia.” Prastha spoke with such a soft voice, guilt building word by word. “I did not know they had the power of the Paragon at their side.

Please, let me help you. There’s still a chance we can save them.”

Minfilia half-glared at him, before letting her body slump. “…please. Find where they are being kept. I wish to— I wish to pay tribute to the fallen.” She knew it was her duty to save the Scions. And to save Yda, to ask her so many more questions. But… she had just been though so much. Things she now wondered if she even had to tell the Scions? Her eyes met his again. “I think I know where they would have been taken. ”

Fordola broke out of her cycle of swearing, to look up at Minfilia. She did not say anything, but there was a soft pride in her eyes. For once, Minfilia wasn’t letting the right thing dictate what she was going to do, and that was okay. Minfilia looked down at her, and offered a hand to stroke her face. Not just that, but so Fordola could kiss her hand a little.

Both of them needed it, as Prastha pressed his ears against his head. “Right. I’ll investigate. And… let you know if I hear anything?”

Minfilia nodded, firmly. “Now that they’ve slaughtered them, they won’t be listening in, will they?”

Even now, she directed her anger at Prastha, and he shuddered slightly. “I— they won’t be listening, no. And I don’t believe they’ll… the word of my death would be spread. I’m favoured by the Empire. I’ll just need to avoid Livia.”

“Make sure you do. We do not need to lose another ally, Prastha.”