Days passed with Minfilia in Whitebrim. Her and Marques toiled to help the people, even if they suspected the three of them weren’t what they said they were. Fordola helped in secret, while Alphinaud complained.

The group, however, had been sent to the cliffs now known as Snowcloak. It was at the recommendation of Inquisitor Guillaime - though, honestly, Minfilia thought it was just getting rid of them while more heretics were rooted out.

She had begun to suspect him. Still, the beast which was described - it seemed to even haunt the gaze of Lord Drillemont. A behemoth, but unlike others, it seemed to be made of ice and snow. It had been seen before, but only after the Calamity. Thus, it was a danger.

But what had the Inquisitor been doing close to there? From what little Minfilia had gathered, it was a dead end. In fact, right now, she could see nothing here. Perhaps the beast was right in front of her, and she’d not know it. But what point would somebody who was not trying to figure it out or dig though it have to come here?

“Hey,” Fordola said, her tail swishing. Out here, Fordola could move freely. The two of them liked it this way. “Look at this snow pile. It’s… moved.”

Minfilia approached, and tilted her head. It didn’t look natural, no. Fordola began to dig - before stopping. “There’s blood here.”

The two were distracted, digging, until— they found a half-eaten body, clutching blade in one hand, papers in the other. His blood was spilled - but his face was intact. The snow had kept it preserved. Minfilias’ lips trembled, as she realised what she was looking at.

“…He’s the heretic,” Minfilia said, and Fordola nodded in agreement. “We need to go back, we need to get people—”

“You’ll be doing none of that.”

Minfilia turned on her heels, and Inquisitor Guillaime was there. Dragons - of the Dravanian Horde - blocked the way out. They were vile beasts, to be sure, but Minfilia felt more afraid of the Elezen then any of them. Her Echo could reach out to Dravanian, perhaps. But people… people did not listen as much. Yet, Minfilia did not dare show fear.

Fordola did not either. But she did something almost as bad, in the moment - she rushed in front of Minfilia, smoke beginning to bellow from her snout. “You don’t scare me.”

The Inquisitor scoffed. “As I thought. You are no mere doll - you are a weapon.” While he did not move, the Dravanian around him began to bite the air, began to grow impatient.

“Why do you do this…?” Minfilia asked. “You’ve sentenced many innocent people to death—”

“—you are a fool, mired in conflicts you do not understand,” Guillaime replied, calmly. “Without our past, you would never understand why we fight. Ishgard is a source of corruption. I’m fighting for their fall - and none will stop me.” As he spoke, the Dravanians began to charge. Fordola jumped from dragonfly to dragonfly, biting and burning them as best she could. Minfilia punched at the larger ones - trying to talk to them. As Minfilia fought, however, she noticed something about her own punches. She swore she felt Ifrits’ flames below them, burning the beasts she tried to slay and still in one motion. It was a similar feeling to when she’d saved Francel.

How foolish. Every one she knocked down, even those she burned away, she swore another one or two appeared. Minfilia could only focus on her target - she could not hear the loud growl surrounding them, or the frenzied footsteps of Ishgardian knights that had been summoned. (It helped that Fordola had her own Linkpearl, and had called for Alphinaud.) No, Minfilia was in the moment.

Everything then seemed to stop for a moment. Nobody realised why, until ice suddenly shot out from the ground, impaling the half-transformed Guillaime. His body fell limp within the moment, the elixir that would have changed him fully for combat. A small gem fell from his robe. It shattered on newly formed ice.

Everybody froze. Minfilia was the first to move, looking around - and seeing it. The very beast that she had been told about. Out of the snow, a Behemoth rose, ice shimmering from under the layer of snow. Snow even covered its’ eyes - it must be an apex predator.

That was what Minfilia thought, at least, until the voice of the Behemoth boomed. It could speak - but perhaps it was the Echo? “A coward,” the beast said, looking up at the corpse. With every step forward, the entire frozen wall behind them shook and twitched. The ice which was summoned half-blocked the view of the knights and Lord Drillemont - they could see, however, the beast began to devour the corpse of the false Inquisitor. “It did not deserve to win.”

“You are…” Minfilia began, before the behemoth stopped her.

“I am Halone.”

That was when Minfilia heard shouts beginning from the others, the ones the Behemoth had blocked from coming over. Was that truly Halone? Was that their God? No, but they were not an Elezen, they did not carry weapons. Halone let out a deep guttural snort. “Believe if you want. Believe if you do not want.”

Minfilia was in awe, standing back a little. Fordola was also in a little awe, but approached a little. “Soo… you’re the second of the Twelve we’ve met?”

“The second. Who else has chosen to show themselves?”

“Rhalgr,” Fordola said, suddenly feeling cold and afraid. Halone turned from her meal, before going back to it.

Even as she ate, she talked. Was it telepathy? “Rhalgr clings to Man. Fitting of Her and Her people. She always…”

Minfilia had already begun to kneel, as Halone then twitched slightly in her direction. Even as the ice she’d made was being prodded at by the knights, trying to get a good glimpse at this being. While it was unbelievable, the voice which echoed was truly the voice of a God. “Rhalgr has come to stay with me. You called them a she…?”

“In the before times,” Halone said, her voice beginning to melt and soften, “she was a beautiful woman. I was as well.” Her voice began to grow harsh again, as cold as the snowfields. “But that time is over. There is no use living in the past.

You are safe. My duty is done.”

“Wait— why did you protect me?” Minfilia asked.

Halone grew quiet, chewing on bones in thought. “In those times, there was one like you. I respected her.

We murdered her, in pursuit of the impossible.” Halone was finished eating, and turned towards Snowcloak, and the impassible ice. “If Rhalgr trusts you, I do as well.

But do not call on me. I am tired - two opposing sides wish for my blessing.” The heretics and holy men both. “I will not fight their war. It is not mine,” she said, as she walked into the snow.

The ice vanished, and the knights rushed forward. But the Behemoth known as Halone had vanished, melted into the snow. There was no sign of their God, the one who had shown herself. But not to them, but an outsider.

Lord Drillemont shakily moved towards Minfilia. Even the fresh ice - the slipperiness - didn’t bother him. He knelt, picking up some of the fresh snow. It glimmered, it was pure. Nothing else was mixed into it, except for small shards of diamond dust which stuck in his armoured gloves. Even the most strict and serious man was moved to tears hearing the voice of God, it seemed.

It took him a moment to become composed once again, looking to Minfilia. “Halone has blessed you,” he said, no sign of disbelief in his voice.

Minfilia shook her head. “Please, do not see it like that.” But was it not the truth? Had Halone not just come and given her at least a sign? This was going to get awkward. Especially if— “Pray, do not let this information spread to the Holy See.” Lord Drillemont paused, as Minfilia nodded to herself. “I doubt they would believe it - and yet, if I was claiming to be chosen by Halone, they would brand me a heretic.” For she was no priest, she did not speak for the Gods. Gently, Minfilia smiled. “Besides. I… doubt that any who were not here would believe it.

It’s quite unbelievable. Even to me.” Even as she spoke, men were getting on their Chocobo again, and Minfilia did the same. Lutia let out a shrill cry.

“We can discuss this in Whitebrim,” Drillemont said, finally finding his courage again. “Come.”

Minfilia sat, finally able to relax. Fordola sat on her lap, now free to be out and free. She was nibbling on some frozen berries, warming them with her firey breath. Alphinaud was looking a little grumpy, as Drillemont sat across from them. The cold had gotten to them all, except for Minfilia.

“Your airship has been located, as you know.”

Minfilia nodded. “I never explained why we need it, did I? I did to Ceodore, but not to you.”

Drillemont raised an eyebrow. “It’s about the Primal. What else do we need to know?”

Leaning back, Minfilia spoke gently but firmly. “This Primal likely has the soul of the missing Haurchefant. I aim to save him, in a similar method to my ally here.” Minfilia gestured to Fordola, who gave a small grunt. “Will he get support if he is released back into Ishgardian care?”

For a moment, Minfilia swore she saw something in Drillemonts’ expression. Disbelief, perhaps, before he masked it. “I doubt anything official will be offered. The only change we are used to are men becoming dragon - and you know the punishment for such.”

Death. Destruction. Or fleeing, like Chlodebaimt. And yet, Minfilia did not flinch at the thought of such. “Then, unofficially…?”

“His father may take him in.” Drillemont gave a firm look to Minfilia. “Will he turn out like your… lizard?”

“The Primal in question, Garuda, is bipedal and quite Elezen-like,” Minfilia stated, as she pondered how she would change as she sealed Garuda. “He will be around this size, however. I hope to find a cure whenever I can take a break from fighting.”

Fordola looked up at Minfilia, a softness entering her gaze. She hadn’t mentioned that for a while. “Until then, I believe that he would not handle leaving his post well.”

“No Ishgardian wishes to leave their post,” Drillemont replied, calmly.

“If you are able to, could you draft a letter to his father?” Minfilia asked, as she then looked to Alphinaud and Marques. “We wish to go to where our airship is.”

Drillemont leaned back. “That might be an issue. It is in the Stone Vigil - a dragon stronghold. We have not been able to reclaim it…” Shame filled his voice, and Minfilia almost reached out. But that would be weird.

Calmly, Minfilia nodded to herself. “Then I will. I’ve allies I can ask to help.” In this case, her mind went to Belias. If they had to fight Dravanian like before, at least this time she would have him ready to be summoned. Though, her mind wandered. Perhaps the siren would be more apt?

…Perhaps she should have gone to visit Llyud again, to ask if she had any information on Garuda.

“I shall not be caught off guard like with the Inquisitor,” Minfilia confirmed. Drillemont took this as good enough, and stood from his chair to send orders.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Alphinaud perked up a little. “Finally! We can rid ourselves of… this, and get on with it. You’d almost think they respected the threat.”

Minfilia sighed. “We’ve made new allies today as well, Alphinaud. With the connection we’ve made with the High Houses, we will be able to gain more information, if there are future Primal threat in this area.”

“We could have done that after the aether was at risk,” Alphinaud said… before pausing. “Minfilia? How do we know Halone wasn’t a Primal? Did you not seal Rhalgr like one?”

A pause. Minfilias’ expression dulled. “…That was not Halones’ true body. If it was, it would not have vanished so easily. And tell me, Alphinaud - did you pick up any aetherial signatures which were wrong, other then in the general vicinity of Garuda?”

His ego wounded slightly, Alphinaud slumped. “No…”

They moved, quietly, so that they could discuss their next move. For Minfilia still had something she needed to tell somebody who trusted her. For the sake of Chlodebaimt.

The night was lit by only candles, as Minfilia sat with soldiers and knights. Conversation was on how she had heard Halone, had Halone told her more - of course they were curious about her experience. Minfilia bowed her head, however, and gave soft answers. She did not wish to bring a holy crusade on anybody - even if it could be useful, she thought.

“Actually… Halone did tell me one other thing,” Minfilia said. She knew it would hurt if they found out she lied, but how else would she convince them swiftly? Of course, she could feel dozens of eyes focused on her, staring though her very soul.

Would she be the same if Rhalgr had told her something? Perhaps. Fordola was chewing on her mudpuppy steak, and Minfilia sighed.

“She told me that she has seen heretics poisoning food. That many who turned may have been assassinated.”

Lord Drillemont raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”

Minfilia nodded, as she swallowed. “She did not give me details.” Chlodebaimt had only had theories. “And yet, food brought from the Holy See has been delivered… every few weeks, correct?” Drillemont nodded. Confirmed. “And after then, there are men who change. Holy men, or men who may be questioning their position. Or even men who may wish to change the future of Ishgard.

All reduced to targets.” As she spoke, Minfilia was beginning to realise what Chlodebaimt had also said. That it was not heretics. That it was the Holy See. But she could not dare say that, not to these faithful. “I would not ask for you to refuse this food, mind you.

But are there tests which can be run?”

Drillemont shook his head. “There are, but they take time. Dragon blood is similar to our blood—”

“—I could…” Marques began, before stumbling over his words. “Quickly. There are differences… if I could get some blood, I could… we could have a machine up and running. After we stop Garuda, that is.”

“You know it would need to go though testing,” Drillemont replied, but there was a little warmth in his voice. Marques gave a warm smile back. He knew this would help. “Very well. Until then, we will test if your… if Halone spoke true to you, Minfilia.”

The next morning, Minfilia and her crew would set out to salvage the Enterprise.

Would that Minfilia would know what an eventful day it would be.