Bolormaa Dotharl had a soft spot for Prastha. They did not know each other well, mind you. But they were both warriors, deep down, even if they denied their natures. They both thirsted for blood.

Wait, no. It was the other way around. They thirsted for no more senseless bloodshed, only fighting when it was wanted. There was a time and place for the good fight. As the large Au Ra descended the stone steps, into the Waking Sands, she froze. For a moment, she swore she saw two Prastha.

Bolormaa blinked a few times.

No, only one. Perhaps it was the stress. This was a quite stressful time. Days had passed, and Minfilia and Alisaie were both bedridden. Even if they both insisted they could move, they needed to rest. Or they wouldn’t burn brightly in combat. Bolormaa gently smiled, waving at Prastha. “How’s the Waking Sands? Still… a bloody battlefield?”

Prastha turned, flinching a little. “Not as much. I’ve cleaned it up the best I could.” His dulled eyes focused on the excitable Au Ra. “Um. One of your allies returned here.”

“Oh? Which one?” Bolormaa asked, before pausing. “Actually, I was hoping you’d know where our Scion friends are being held.”

Prastha bit his lip. His own tail - very fluffy - began to swish. “You aren’t planning on going alone, are you?” Dotharl, he swore. They were why the Far East was so dangerous… well, in the stilled world. It had taken a lot for him to adapt, to connect to Bolormaa. She was a gentle soul, but she was like them. If she ever was corrupted like those of his home - of the other timeline - she’d likely keep her mind. And that terrified him. Prastha did not admit where he came from to himself, often, either. He couldn’t let them know.

However, Bolormaa surprised him. Her eyes shined. “Of course not! I’m letting the others make a plan.” Prastha stared, a little surprised, before Bolormaa nodded a few times. “Mhm! While Minfilia is bed-ridden, as is Alisaie, we need to work smarter.” A beat. “I do have some ideas I wish to give them. And I want to rescue my friends and fellow Archon.”

—wait. “Fellow Archon—?” Prastha said, staring a little. Bolormaa tapped some of her dark black scales.

Barely visible was her tattoo. Bolormaa beamed. “I am not simply a master weaponsmith, Prastha.” She stretched, looking around for the friend he mentioned. “I have my degree in ancient restoration. My dissertation was on the use of ancient techniques to help fortify modern buildings, especially those of the Fourth Era and earlier.” Suitably distracted, Bolormaas’ tail began to wag. “The defense took several hours. I think it’s more because they are not used to Xaela, however. They might have read my name and thought of only bloodshed. It’s a little sad.”

“Or perhaps you’re known for traveling,” Prastha commented. “I don’t think they’d like the idea of either - somebody traveling and exposing their secrets, or somebody who’d use them for violence.” Gently, Prastha then realised what he was saying, and curled his tail around his leg. “Uh, sorry. I’m not trying to—”

“Actually,” Bolormaa said, “it’s fine. I’m used to it.” Oof. She had the smallest of frowns on her large frame.

Prastha decided to change the subject. “Anyway, the ally I mentioned - she’s been recovering. It’s a little hard, though, seeing as there’s not many windows.”

Bolormaa perked up. Prastha smiled. “Do you think you could take her out for a little sunlight?”

Bolormaa nodded. “I would love to speak with Lyse!” Her little sylphic friend.

Bolormaa had crawled up onto the roof, with Lyse fragile and gently in one of her arms. Letting her rest in her tail, Bolormaa sighed. Her autumn colours had begun to become all crunchy, sick and hurt. “Can I ask you what happened?” Bolormaa asked, looking at the half-asleep Ala Mhigan-turned-Sylph.

Lyse sighed, stretching out slightly. “I miss Yda.” It was so simple, but so heartfelt. “I miss Papalymo, as well. I wasn’t there when they were taken. But they’re gone, and I couldn’t help them.”

Minfilia and Lyse were so similar, Bolormaa thought, as she began to pluck dead leaves from Lyses’ body. Caring for her, under the sunlight. Lyse snuggled into her tail, closing her eyes. “They’re going to be saved, right?”

“Of course they are,” Bolormaa replied. “They will be saved, and they will be cared for.” Gently, Bolormaa began to rub her scales against the Sylph. Her own scales were half-shedding, coming off as well.

Lyse let out a little choked sob. “How can you be so certain? It’s Garlemald - they’ve wanted Yda for a long time.” Lyse then paused. And snuggled into the grooming. Bolormaa couldn’t help but purr a little. It was so rare she got to groom anybody.

Lyse then suddenly perked up, ears twitching. “The aether…” she mumbled, feeling the air suddenly grow a chill. Bolormaa noticed it as well, and gave a little chirp. Gently, Lyse curled into Bolormaa more, a little worried. “It feels like when I was reborn.”

It was not a feeling Lyse liked. She hated it, in fact. She’d become so different like this, weaker. If she’d still been Hyur, would she have been able to help Yda more? A few snowflakes fell.

And then Urianger fell from the sky, landing on the roof with them with a loud thud. Scrambling to check if he was okay, Bolormaa let out a worried sound - as did Lyse, as she felt the chill from him. No. She had to stay strong. She couldn’t help but notice blood pooling near his crotch, though. Lyse looked to Bolormaa. Bolormaa looked to Lyse - before picking Urianger up and jumped down so she could get him inside.

Once inside, Bolormaa brought him to a bed, and began to strip him. Just so she could find his injuries. She gasped when she saw the stump of a tail, still exposed. Lyse watched as Bolormaa bandaged him and used magic from her fingers to tend to his wounds. Not just the cut off tail, but the marks and bruises. She was tender.

Prastha could see that tenderness as well. Bolormaa explained, as she worked. “You see,” she said, “while I can fight, I need to be able to tend to myself. Right? I might be alone. But to channel it with just my body - it’s what my new friend taught me. He seemed like a master of all jobs. But he was looking for more.”

Bolormaa hoped to see her friend again. She turned back to Urianger, who began to wake - now derobed, only wearing a singlet and long boxers. His eyes snapped open, terrified, before he saw the group. Bolormaa sat happily, while Prastha stared with his off-brown eyes, and Lyse gave little wiggles of happiness. She could see into his ice cold skin and see who he was, but Urianger no longer cared.

“…my friends,” Urianger said quietly. “Pray, listen to me. I have escaped Garlean capture once again, at massive cost. I can tell you where they are. What they are planning.”

Minfilia and Alisaie were bedridden. They had converted a room in the Ironworks into a specialised infirmary for the two of them - made for the feathered Alisaie and Minfilia, who was still burning up at times. Both of their injuries were healing - but both of them were bedridden.

Minfilia hated it. But her and Alisaie had been talking a little. Today, Minfilia finally thought she could ask what had been on her mind ever since they fought Titan. “…Alisaie, are you awake?”

Alisaie let out a groan. She was, then. And she was still breathing, her breath slow due to the bullet though her. The Ironworks and the various healers they’d gotten in couldn’t remove the bullet, mind you, due to the white blood being dangerous. Or so Alisaie said.

“Why— why did you take Titan? Why did you not explain yourself…?”

Alisaie turned away. “I’d sound crazy. Nero always said it’s crazy and stupid, and I trust him.” Oh, Alisaie sounded so defeated. But she knew Minfilia wouldn’t stop asking. She was always like that, or so she’d been told. “You know how I ate those Tonberry?”

How could Minfilia forget? The fact that Alisaie could devour beasts whole… wait. “Did you eat Titan—?”

“No,” Alisaie replied harshly. Her whip-like hair curling around her. “That creature you saw Ultima Weapon… kill. I was feeding it to him.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, in case anybody was listening. Half-masked by her pained voice. “He was my Alphinaud.”

Silence filled the room. “I told you he got hit by the stilling and all that, right? Became a thrall?

I thought…” Alisaie couldn’t stop crying. She couldn’t stop herself from hissing and feeling the pain and feeling her own stilling progress if she dared show this. “I thought that I could fix him. It’s just a lack of aether, right? A lack of the right aether?”

Alisaie asked as if Minfilia knew. “I wanted him to come back. So I wouldn’t need to fucking lie about myself to this other Alphinaud, who acts like mine did in the past!” Even now, Alisaie tried to burn away passion. Tried to act like she wasn’t burning inside, like her emotions weren’t a horrific swirl of rage and anger and—

“…I would have allowed you to,” Minfilia said. “If you’d just told me that it wasn’t to abuse it to take control of nations, or to attack others, I would have allowed it.”

Alisaie froze in the middle of her screaming. Stared, wide-eyed. “…Why?”

Minfilia smiled softly. “If we could use Titan to save a life, perhaps by the time it could have been summoned again, the Kobold would no longer need them to rain revenge.”

Such an earnest response made Alisaie utterly stop. Stare. And began to cry again. “Why are you so good, Minfilia…? Not that it even matters now. He’s dead. He’s dead…”

Minfilia stood out of her bed. Her back began to ache again, pain shooting though her body. Minfilia collapsed onto Alisaie, for snuggles. They’d both lost somebody so important to them.

But then, Alisaie thought of something. Her eyes gleamed though her tears. “Minfilia. There— we would have been told if the primals were summoned again, right?” Minfilia nodded, not quite understanding where Alisaie was going. “And they’d want to summon them again, right? The Amalj’aa and Kobold and Ixal.

Maybe— maybe they can’t. Because they’re still in there.”

Minfilia dared not hold hope. And besides, what about the beast-esque Alphinaud? Alisaie didn’t stop, as she rambled. “And if they can survive that, then I can get my brother back and continue trying to fix him.”

“…what about the Alphinaud of this land?” Minfilia asked gently, and Alisaie gave a little smile.

“It’s— I still want to be close to him. I don’t know what really happened to his Alisaie, but it’s— nice to have two brothers. And I don’t want him to fuck up like he did before.”

…Minfilia dared not ask, as she continued to snuggle. Alisaie was so comfortable. That is, until the door slid open. Bolormaa was there, with suitable transport. “Minfilia, I— oh! Minfilia, Alisaie! I’m glad to see you two snuggling, but might you come with me? We are planning the rescue of the surviving Scions, and want your input.”

Minfilia tried to stand, and Bolormaa helped her - Alisaie following.

They soon arrived in the dingy broken meeting room - Minfilia seeing familiar faces. Cid leaned against the wall, holding his head slightly. His engineers, Biggs and Wedge, were sitting and already discussing something about Magitek, as Lyse danced around the surviving Y’shtola. Phae and K’pandolu were there as well, but what surprised Minfilia the most was seeing Urianger there, Alphinaud by his side. He stood stiffly, giving a little frown to both Alisaie and Minfilia.

“I can confirm our allies are being held close by, in Castrum Centri. I was there - I was only able to escape alone. And if that bringeth torture and pain to my fellow allies, I shall take that burden forevermore.”

Cid gave him a glare, before looking to the newcomers. “The plan, so far, is to disguise some of you as imperials. We should be able to blend in as a patrol returning from duty. While you’ve been recovering, Minfilia, the Miqo’te lasses stole some magitek armour.” Proudly, Cid beamed at Phae and K’pandolu. “And we even fixed it when it was broken. Well, Biggs and Wedge did.” Cid couldn’t admit that his engineering was struggling, that his mind was overcome with the thoughts of serving Alexander. Thankfully, Alexander also had a curiosity about engineering, but still.

Cid Garlond was slipping. Thankfully, he could get Biggs and Wedge to do a lot of the work. His eyes closed, so none of them could see his internal struggle. Minfilia listened, and then she spoke up. “Pardon me.”

The group turned to her. “If this Castrum is truly within Mor Dhona, may I suggest I ask Belias for aid?” She could feel a glare, and some worry.

Alphinaud stepped forward. “He nearly killed you last time you used him—”

“—I speak not of using him like that, but calling upon the Gigas,” Minfilia interrupted. “He trusts my judgement. While we mean to distract, what would be a better distraction then fighting some of the native savages?”

Minfilia used their words. “I shall go to him. I… must need tell him I forgive him.” Minfilia did forgive him for her injuries. And not because she felt she had to - no, it was due to the Ascians’ meddling.

Getting to the Kings’ chambers was still dangerous. Especially with her injuries. As soon as Minfilia got close enough, Chlodebaimt flew to the entrance, to her side. His head was bowed, he let out a soft whine. As he ushered her within, he told her everything. Belias had fallen into a deep sadness due to her pain, and not even Penono could get him out of it. He’d not explain why, either. So he’d been trying, and training with Snow.

It was like when Minfilia first arrived. The room was so very dark, Belias had not kept his room lit. His figure was only illuminated by the room outside. Minfilia gave Chlodebaimt a gentle stroke on the head, before she entered alone.

“Belias.”

Belias rose from his seat. The room began to slightly glow. “Minfilia…?” he asked gently, voice vibrating with fear. “You have… suffered. Due to my reckless desire for revenge.”

Minfilia took a step forward, trying not to flinch from her pain. Trying to hide it. But failing, as she saw Belias flinch himself. “Please, I know what you did.

But…

I understand. I forgive you, Belias.” Minfilia had crossed the gap between them. She put a hand to Belias’ mask. “I would have done the same, in your situation. Faced with one who’d brought such suffering— if I’d not been in such pain, I don’t know what I would have done to van Baelsar.”

Belias listened. Belias gave guttural pleased sounds at her touch. And Belias felt her forgiveness, and began to weep. However, he also noted her awkwardness. “…you did not simply come for such, did you. You speak of van Baelsar, of Garlemald.

What has happened?”

Fordolas’ aether was not around, Belias noted, and had put some of it together. However, Minfilia explained. She told him of Haurchefant, and then told him of the Ultima Weapon. Of how, now, her friends were nearby.

“I wish to aid, but I cannot fight. May you send some of your Gigas to act as a distraction?”

Belias closed his eyes, and let out a long sigh. “You know they will not discriminate in battle, correct? They are still learning between which are ally and enemy. Will it not cause panic?” They will die, Belias knows, but many would find it an honour. Minfilia understood their minds more then Belias thought. One claw wrapped around her.

Minfilia nodded quietly. “I can ask my allies to stay back, or to wear certain colours. They must need fight Imperials - those wearing red and black. I know bloodshed is not my way, but sometimes we must let our morals fray in order to aid those we truly care about.”

Her morals had not frayed. Belias snorted. “You are at war, my little Minfilia. The Empire is your enemy. But… the fact you still hesitate is good.” She is still herself. She has not been consumed by her hatred, her anger. Her hands still trembled.

“…three.” Minfilia looked up, hope in her eyes. “I shall send three Gigas. Warn your allies not to wear the colours of Garlemald. And even then, it shall be dangerous. Call me on your Linkpearl when you require them.”

Minfilia gave Belias a firm hug, his warmth radiating from him again, penetrating her flesh again. His kindness and love… Minfilia truly cherished Belias.