The plan was set, and Minfilia could only wait behind. Alisaie dare not go there, either, for she was a beast. And yet, Minfilia looked to Alisaie, as they sat in the open air of Mor Dhona. “How were they?” Minfilia asked, looking out towards the Castrum. Alisaie tilted her head. “The Garlemald of your home.”

Alisaie leaned back, letting her feathers air out. “They were… similar to this. But they began to grow more violent, after Ala Mhigo was liberated. Doma, too. They feared a war on both fronts, I think.” Even as she spoke, Alisaie had a softness to her voice she’d often hide. She was letting down her guard again. “But there were so many who were sick of the war.

Those who survived came to us. Like th’other Fordola. Others… others weren’t so lucky.” Garlean or Eorzean or Far Eastern, all fell to the Stilling. “I heard about a lot of good people. Those who had good points about Eorzea, too.”

Minfilia listened intensely, still praying for her people to be safe. She had not seen Bolormaa and her crew set out yet. She could relax a little, resting her back against the cooling rock. “Each nation has issues. But I don’t think anywhere doesn’t. Even… whatever Belias has.”

“Can you see it, Minfilia? What Belias is doing with you?” Alisaie asked, focused on her face.

Minfilia nodded. “I can. And I— realise why. He sees me as somebody else, Alisaie.” Minfilia put her hand to the charm he gave her. “He sees me as an Ivalician princess.” A life that might have belonged to her soul, but she could never imagine. She did not know the full story of Princess Ashe, but she was no noble. She worked, and worked more, for all she had.

Alisaie looked over Minfilia. “…It’s okay to take what he’s offering, you know.”

A pause. Alisaie smiled. “The Minfilia I knew would have made a good leader. She was a good leader. If she hadn’t… if she wasn’t…”

“Tell me, Alisaie. What happened to her?” Minfilia demanded, her knuckles turning white as she balled them up. “Pray tell me, so I do not make the same mistake.”

A deep breath in. Alisaie wasn’t there when it happened - she did not understand it all. She would rather ask another, but there was no time. And besides, she was the one here.

“Hydaelyn claimed her.

…Hydaelyn was lacking energy, and stole her away.” Alisaie snarled. “She chose it. To become a God. But the Gods then abandoned us. Minfilia abandoned us.” Anger bubbled up from the corrupted Alisaie, her golden tear-like markings glowed a little. “I hate it. I hate her.” But Alisaie still respected her. She still couldn’t handle what happened. “We abandoned Hydaelyn back. We fight to survive - we turned to the darkness, for it combatted the Stillness.”

Even now, Alisaie wanted to scream at everybody who dared speak about the light of Hydaelyn, but she kept it inside. Things could be different. She still would not stand for it, mind you. Alisaie continued to snarl under her breath. “The others still believed in the power of Gods. Prayed to a higher power.” Disgust filled her voice again. “They sacrifice people to it.”

“You speak of your Scions!?” Minfilia asked, shock vibrating though her body. They could grow to that state? Alisaie nodded.

“It’s why I look for a different solution. One without sacrificing… not just people, but entire shards. When Nero found a way to traverse the rift, we only took from long-dead worlds.” She did not bother explaining about Nero. There was a lot she was leaving out. Her voice dropped. “This shard was thought to be dead. But you’re alive.

…unlike the Kings, I think you’re worth living.”

“Who are these Kings?” Minfilia asked.

Alisaie bundled around herself. “Two Nunh. They take on new names each place they go - but when we lost leadership, they took that place. Miqo’te tribes usually don’t have two Nunh, but then again, Miqo’te tribes are usually just Miqo’te.

…Sorry. I can’t give you their names. They’re still some of the few I have left, even if I disagree with them,” Alisaie said quietly. “I can convince them that this place is worth life.”

Minfilia knew what that meant. She could not. But… “Do you truly think I could aid Belias with leading his people?”

“The nations of Eorzea do not listen to what they call beasts,” Alisaie pointed out. “And even if you’ve been changed, you’re still seen as a Hyur. Even if you do not rule, you could be a figurehead. And Belias will listen to your ideas, it seems. I mean, the Tonberries are happy there, right?” Minfilia thought they were, at least. From here, she could see they had begun to construct true homes. After all, they had taken over this place as well. Well, they worked with the Adventurers’ Guild.

Still. “I will not make my choice yet, Alisaie.” Minfilia said quietly. “I must need see to my duties to stop Ultima Weapon. If I die there, then I do not want to break Belias’ heart.”

He would already mourn. She did not want him to mourn more then he had to.

Ah. Bolormaa was on the move… alone? It seems that she had decided it would be easier to blend in if only one of them went at a time. A patrol, seeking refuge. As soon as she vanished into the tangle of metal and morbols, as soon as Minfilia knew it was time, she raised a hand to her fluffy ear.

“Belias. ‘tis time to send the Gigas. But before they arrive, I ask you one thing.”

Belias was silent, waiting for the question. “What are their names? I want to… if they happen to fall, I wish to remember their names.”

Belias let out a deep chuckle, her linkpearl vibrating. “If you carry each soldier with you, your heart will grow too heavy.” And yet, he told her. He told her their names, their meanings. Minfilia loved. She was so pure.

Bolormaa had slipped into imperial areas a little too easily for an Au Ra. Her kind were rare. People did not seem to comment about how her tail dragged behind her uniform, except one or two telling her to watch it, somebody might trip or rip it off. Honestly, it was sort of nice. Except these were people who wanted to destroy the Eorzean way of life. If Eorzea wished for this challenge of strength, they would have asked for it.

Might wasn’t all that mattered. Bolormaa knew that well. And as she walked, her Miqo’te companions following, her steps slowed as she watched the people. They were all people like her, weren’t they? Out of place. Still, she looked. Huh…

One of the imperials looked her in the eyes. “What are you staring at, lizard?” At that moment, Bolormaa was glad she was not a Bangaa.

“Oh, well. I was wondering if any of you come from Esthar.”

The Miqo’te paused to listen, as the imperial laughed. “Esthar was wiped off the map, lass! Just like Bozja!” Bolormaa would debate, but she didn’t have time. But she’d been there, with that new friend of hers. She was hoping to meet with more friends. Esthar was full of them!

She nodded. “No survivors are part of the XIVth, then?” she asked, and the imperial laughed even more.

“Stop wasting my time. Hey, listen. Go check the prisoners are ready for transport, would you? They’re pretty important, and somebody as big as you would sure frighten them.” Chirping, Bolormaa gave an imperial salute, and began to walk off.

She wasn’t frightening, was she? Though it was true, nobody was as big as her. That was part of what made Bolormaa, well, Bolormaa.

As she walked, however, she heard desperate calls coming from other imperials. Gigas were descending on the Castrum, they needed support. Anybody not on an important task had to come defend the land.

It was important to check on the prisoners. It was less-so to guard them, it seemed, as Bolormaa strode into the metallic holding room. There, kept tied up, were the captured ones. Scions. All people they’d want to do bad things to. Quietly, Bolormaa made sure the door shut, made sure nobody heard her. She raised a finger to her lips. Quiet. Silent.

Darting over, she began to untie them. Well, more like, she used her claws to cut the rope. It was thicker then Eorzea rope, but they still fell to her claws. First, of course, was Tataru. She looked close to fainting, but tried to keep her excited sounds to herself. Next was Papalymo, then Yda. All of this for the three of them. Yda looked exhausted. Her forehead had caked blood under her hair. Papalymo had paler skin, his clothes replaced with prisoner garb. The two partners gave each other a glance, and Tataru let out a whimper.

Bolormaas’ tail hit the ground once. They all stared at her. “We need to go. Follow me,” Bolormaa said, uncurling her tail. “Follow it.” It had scars from the last fights she had. She knew it might get chopped off. But it was the best signal she had. It had been used back then as well, tracing near-invisible marks in the Steppe.

The three followed. Yda picked up Tataru. Papalymo could keep up. They caught up with their Miqo’te friends, who had been waiting outside.

But they were caught. Bolormaa looked up, and saw one of their Magitek giants. Bolormaa grinned. “Pan. Phae,” she said, looking to K’pandolu and Phae, with a deadly-seeming grin. “Keep going. I will stop this.”

Her hands gleamed, as she grabbed her cane. Bolormaa knew they were not meant to make a scene, but she wanted to fight. This was her fight, and this was what she was made for. There was a sharp pain, and Bolormaa prepared to summon her strength.

But the Magitek Giant shifted. Bolormaa saw a woman in white armour, who gave a glare. She spoke, but Bolormaa did not listen. Perhaps she should have? For the woman in white armour charged for Yda, but Bolormaa blocked with her magic. They had to fight her, then…

No. More imperials appeared. The blood of giants filled the air. They could not win here. While Bolormaa did not fear death, she knew her others would. They were being backed away.

Another spoke - she thinks it was Y’shtola. When had Y’shtola gotten here? Her vision was going blurry, everything was becoming overwhelming. Y’shtola told them they needed to jump. Now.

Bolormaa jumped off the cliff. She felt her weight lessen. The tip of her tail had been cut off, as she fell onto the deck of an airship. Cid was there. The smell of blood did not fade as they left. Was it from her tail? No… no. She put a hand to her cloak, and blood covered her dark skin and scales both. Her own blood, from above her flat breasts. A little sign she’d fought well. Bolormaa grinned, as she looked to the now-saved Scions. They were looking overboard.

Oh. Gaius was down there. Bolormaa looked over, and saw him and the Weapon. The Weapon that had hurt them so badly. It was glowing— shooting. But Cid was good at dodging. He was far too good at it - Bolormaa wished she knew why, as the beam from Ultima barely clipped the airship. But there was something else concerning. On the Weapon, one person stood on it. That was dangerous! They could fall! That would not be a good death.

Plus, why would Thancred be there… in the black Ascian robes… oh. That explained why everybody was sounding panicked. Bolormaa gave a concerned glance down, as they soared away. One of theirs was taken, and that was… not good.

They got the Scions back into the Ironworks, so that they could rest. Yda barely moved, barely let out a sound, even as Lyse snuggled into her. That is, until Minfilia entered the room. (Minfilia quietly noted that Alphinaud was nowhere to be found.) She sat on one of the beds, back against the wall.

“…I’ve been told of what happened to Thancred,” she said quietly. “We must needs consider our next moves carefully.”

“Yes, we must,” Papalymo said - giving Minfilia a pointed look. “I believe our first move will be clearing the air about our so-called deaths.” Pah, Papalymo thought. Minfilia was almost speaking like she was leading them! Still… he wrung his hands, still being treated. “I still don’t understand how all that… distraction happened. Was that you, Minfilia?”

Quietly, Minfilia nodded. “I petitioned Belias. He sent three of his - Hylas, Delphos, and Myrto.” She would remember their names. She would remember their sacrifice. “I shall go and thank him as soon as I can.

Yet, I cannot leave yet.” Minfilia said, her voice shaking slightly. Could she ask now? No, now was the best time. “Not until I’ve spoken to Yda.

…if that is your true name.”

Yda looked over. Her eyes were glazed over, and yet - when Papalymo moved to talk, she stopped him. “Yulia wir Galvus. Granddaughter of the current Emperor, Solus zoz Galvus.

But Yda is my true name, you know.” A little smile. Minfilia knew that smile - she knew it far too well. Gently, Yda began to sit up, brushing her hair back to show her third eye - which had a few small scratches near it. Her eyes were still not focused, but perhaps that was because of. You know. The torture. She sat, hands in her lap.

Lyse wiggled into her hands, hugging them. “I was born after my older brother, Varis. So even if I wasn’t a girl, I wouldn’t be in line. But I was raised up as a spare, just in case.” Ydas’ voice sounded distant as she spoke. A slight Garlean accent poked in, as she went back to the time before. “I don’t know how much you guys know. But Garlemald is sort of a hell hole. It’s cold, and basically unlivable. Gramps told us stories about it. So we were raised, well… how much do you know about the founding of Garlemald?”

Minfilia thought back to what she knew. But it was… lacking, she had to admit to herself. “I believe Garleans, due to their lack of aetherial manipulation, were forced out of all other nations until they founded their own. Only the northern Miqo’te and Hrothgar would give them succor.”

“Not exactly,” Yda said, shaking her head. “They didn’t like us either. They had to live most of their life hiding, and hunting whatever creatures could live in that cold. That is, until Gramps discovered ceruleum!” Gramps… Solus. Yes, Minfilia knew this story well. But to hear it from a Garlean was different. “Some wished for revenge. Others wished simply to expand. And even others just wanted to live and have a warm bed at night.

Anyway, then Gramps also discovered the Burn.” A pause, and Yda gave a deep sigh inwards. “A place where Eikon summoning messed up the land. That’s when he declared that Eikon were the biggest threat, and those who could summon them should die instead of being able to.” Yda grew quiet. She gripped to Lyse, to the little Sylph in her arms. “I thought that was a good idea, as well.

I was deployed to help Gaius with conquering Ala Mhigo.” Even as she mentioned it, Yda shuddered - regret bubbling though her voice and position both. “But then, I was seperated from them. The fires— I was alone.”

A grin then crossed her face, as she turned to Papalymo. “And then Papalymo found me. He mistook me for an Ala Mhigan, since my hair was hiding my eye. And he helped me.”

Papalymo took over, voice softening as well. “I found out pretty quickly that she was Garlean, mind you, but she’d already begun helping Lyse.”

“I… I didn’t expect Eorzeans to be so kind. I thought they were monsters, you know?” Yda admitted, quietly, gripping to Lyse tighter. “I couldn’t kill them anymore. I couldn’t see them as just Eikon-summoning savages.

And, besides.” Yda gave a bitter laugh. “Garlemald labeled me traitor. You’ve seen what they’ve been trying to do with me.” Torture. Experimentation. Whatever they could. Yda bundled up a little. “I’m glad that Louisoix decided I was worth something.”

But now he’s gone. He was gone, and they had to pick up the pieces. Quietly, Minfilia put a hand to Yda, her lips curving into a smile. “…thank you. I might need to use this knowledge later. But I’m glad to know you.

…Garleans are not all evil, either. Nobody is.” Minfilia said, before wondering: did her kindness, her thoughts, even cover Ascians? Nabriales was twisted and cruel, true. And Thancred had been robbed from her. She had not been shown one who had a kind heart.

Perhaps there were no kind Ascian. And yet, she smiled at Yda, and Yda looked so relieved. That is, until Kurin the postmoogle floated into the room.

“Aaaaand, one letter for Papalymo! Okay, I’m off to deliver a letter to Alphinaud.” With a lazy wave, the Moogle floated away. Papalymo ripped the letter open, before his face went pale.

“I’m in no state to— Minfilia. I don’t want to put too much pressure on you, but I believe you may need to go speak to the Grand Company leaders of Eorzea!”

He handed the letter to Minfilia - and the first thing she noticed is that it was addressed to them in the header. Nanamo, Merlwyb, and Kan-E-Senna. The letters were uniform, from a printing press.

It was an ultimatium from Gaius. Give their lands to Eorzea, give up without conflict. Or Ultima Weapon would be unleashed at its’ full power.

Minfilia nodded stoically. For a moment, she looked like the Warrior of Light, the true Warrior of Light. “I shall try and convince them there is another way— no, I shall convince them.

Please, recover. I may need to ask more of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.”

Outside, just outside, Alphinaud gripped a letter. Kurin watched quietly as the letter crumpled. The official Sharlayan envelope fell to the crystalline ground. But he did not scream, nor did he cry. Instead, he looked to the mail-moogle. “This is not forged.”

Alphinaud was not accusing the Moogle. No, instead, he was trying to figure out how to react.

The letter, enclosed, held general pleasantries from his mother and father both, of course. A slight curiosity towards his interest in his family tree - but a confession.

One proven though a copied death certificate which now was far too crumpled to be used in any official situation. However, that was not needed either.

Alisaie Leveilleur. Dead, at age one. She had fallen ill on the boats as they returned home to Old Sharlayan. Alphinaud had barely survived, himself, but they could not see any side-effects as he grew up. He did not need to know how sickly he’d been, how his father and grandfather both had toiled endlessly to keep them both healthy. How his mother had struggled, believing it was her fault the illness hit them.

Alisaie was dead. And there was now some… some stranger trying to steal her identity. He could not confront her yet, not while he did not know what she was. But he would find a way to stop her. This, Alphinaud promised to himself.