The Rising Stones had begun to look like a proper base. People making themselves comfortable, warmth and love coming from them, Archon freely talking with Scion… Minfilia still felt out of place as she walked though swiftly. Even as some people waved, others smiled as she passed… Minfilias’ heart hurt. A scar that she’d thought healed, bleeding openly…

She managed to stumble into the Solar without showing her anger, facing Papalymo once more - Lyse by her side. But she stumbled onto quite the scene. Cordis leaning in the corner, and Papalymo looking exhausted. Yda was sitting in his lap, nearly squishing him. She had the cutest little smile on her lips - her eyes sparkling. (Her third eye still hidden, now by a circlet.) Minfilia was glad, at least, one of them did not seem to be taken by the situation.

Before Papalymo could speak, however, Cordis spoke. “Leviathan, of the seas.” Minfilia looked over to him. “The Primal of the Sahagin. Likely summoned out of desperation, not out of the desire to conquer.” There was a darkness in his voice that Minfilia could almost recognize. “The larger challenge will be getting it to shore. Unless you have gills, that is.”

That almost seemed to be an honest question. Minfilia shook her head, but gave Papalymo a chance to speak. “Yes, thank you. We called you in particular, Minfilia, for you aided the Kobold and Limsa Lominsa reach a non-violent resolution. While we still need to destroy Leviathan, I believe you may be able to do the same again.”

“And which Warriors will come with me?” Minfilia asked, her head bowing. Diplomacy. “Negotiations with Merlwyb are quite intense, as you may know. Last time, I had Alisaie, but…” She was still gone. Sick, taken by the cloaked Miqo’te.

“That’s what I wanted to get your opinion on,” Papalymo said. “Cordis insisted on coming on this trip, but you can have your pick of allies.”

It didn’t take long for Minfilia to decide. “I would like to travel with Arenvald - and, if possible, Lyse as well. Fordola will be with me, and…”

“Oh! You want an Ala Mhigan group!” Lyse cheered, suddenly perking up. “I wanna go! Can I, Yda?”

Yda had not been paying attention - she’d been trying to get comfortable on Papalymo. Her head whirred, and her smile grew. “You haven’t wanted to fight for a while, you know! I’d love you to go! But, um.” A gentle hand pet Lyses’ head. “Don’t get yourself changed, okay? I… you’re already working hard with your glamours, but I don’t want you to get more messed up.”

Messed up. Was that how Yda saw Minfilia, she wondered. A glance down. “I imagine it would not be good to delay our trip,” Minfilia said sharply. Burying these feelings. “I shall inform Lord Belias, and then we’ll take—”

“—oh, right.” Papalymo interrupted, quietly. “I have a gift for you— Yda, stop squirming— which will help. While your place with us is not the most explainable, you are one of us. And you travel more then others of us - thus, I have granted you your very own chocobo caravan.”

With everything going on, Minfilia hadn’t been thinking about such. But as Papalymo said it, her eyes sparkled slightly. “Thank you. Then I shall meet them where it’s parked - I hope Lutia is not too afraid of it.”

The caravan itself was nothing special - it could fit the group in, and it was clearly durable, but it seemed more made for just one or two people. Which, honestly, made sense. If Minfilia was going to travel, she’d usually be with just one or two other companions. Not this many. Lyse had dropped her glamour, returning to the Sylph body she had been gifted to save her life. Fordola rested as the Mammet-sized Ifrit she could become, in a bowl of fire crystal shards - stretching out as she eyed the others. Cordis rested quietly in the storage room - he insisted, because nighttimes were no good for him - and that left Minfilia and Arenvald up front. Watching Lutia pull the caravan - they had to get to Thanalan again, to get a boat.

“Remind me again?” Arenvald asked, tilting his head. Fluff from his collar shifted, from how he’d sealed the Primal of the Moogle. “We can’t use an airship because…”

“Because it would spook Lutia. She still has bad experiences - and she deserves not to be scared,” Minfilia replied quietly, looking to her red Chocobo. “Besides. I’ve heard her kind can drop meteors if they get too upset.”

“Right, right, kupo. The red ones are the spicy ones - they used to come around Gyr Abania sometimes, right?” Arenvald asked - but Minfilia knew that tone. He wanted to know, because they both hadn’t experienced it. The little tremble in his hands, the sorrow in his eyes.

Minfilia leaned back. (She did not know.) “I believe that this one - Lutia - came from across the sea. Some form of Dalmascan one. I…” A gulp. “She was rescued from a Garlean ship. I imagine her and her kin were to be used as weapons.” The ground below them seemed to grow quiet, even as Lutia continued to pull across the caravan path. “I imagine a lot of them will still be used as such - the Maelstrom took quite a few in. You know I cannot help but worry about such.

Arenvald?” Minfilia asked, now sounding quiet and uncertain. “Do you think that Chocobo have the capability to become Spoken?”

The sounds didn’t return to Minfilia, as she felt a lump building in her throat. She couldn’t explain it - but the idea that Chocobo could develop, that they could be like the tribes she helped—

“—the beaks,” Arenvald said, breaking though the silence. “So unless their beaks change, they wouldn’t be able to speak.”

“…Forgive me. I think I missed what you said?” Minfilia said in a whisper she didn’t know she had in her.

Arenvald blinked. Once, and then a few times - before putting his firm arms around her. “You worried about all of this? You’ve been doing pretty good so far, Minfilia. Better then a lot of us. You figured out this way to stop Primal. You managed to defeat Ultima Weapon, and bring some peace for a little.”

Arenvald smiled warmly. When he closed his eyes, his face looked more Moogle-like… Minfilia couldn’t help but smile a tiny bit back. “I simply wish not to be forcing Lutia into this. She was traumatised by Garlemald…”

“And you’re not?” Arenvald replied, before gently sighing. “They… I… they’ve caused problems for me, too. From birth,” Arenvald whispered, trembling slightly. “But it’s not just that, is it?”

Staring for a moment, Minfilia nodded quietly. Arenvald continued, neither of them paying attention to where Lutia ran. “I wasn’t part of the Path of the Twelve. I was too young when Dalamud fell, and was confused and lost. But it means I didn’t forget you - if I had, I’d be beating myself up.

A lot of them over there are.” Arenvald bit his lip. “I’ve had visions of them. It’s not been pleasant.”

“Not pleasant,” Minfilia replied, a darkness entering her voice. “Not pleasant is standing in front of those you respected as your mentors, and your own damned brother, and not being recognized. Tataru… she was one of my closest friends. But after these years, it still stings to think on the previous months.”

Why was she admitting this to Arenvald? Minfilia felt her anger bubbling more in his arms. Her tail began to swish more. A venom built on her words. “I know everybody remembers now. That the meddling done by a Primal beyond our power has been reversed. But simply having that happen doesn’t change that it happened!”

“Ow.”

Minfilia pulled back. Her claws were digging into Arenvalds’ arms, blood dripping down them. She trembled, but Arenvald looked her in the eyes, firmly. “Keep talking. Maybe you’re having troubles because you haven’t been.” He sounded so kind. Was it because he was Ala Mhigan? Because they shared blood, in a way?

Minfilia nodded, looking back out at the land they travelled. Not noticing that Fordola had stretched out, joining them. Perhaps he was right - that her sickness, her tiredness, was because she hid this. But there were… “There are few people I can lean on, Arenvald. Somehow, I’m surrounded by those with their own issues. Belias, who struggles with who I am, even if I am his emissary. The Archon, who still wish to stop this Primal threat. And those gods and immortals from a time before ours.

Compared to them, I’m… I’m not even a fighter, in the end.”

Arenvald closed his eyes, leaning a little. “You seem like a fighter to me,” he said. As she gave a little grunt, Arenvald smiled. “I mean, I fight with a sword, and you fight with talking to people, right?” Even as Arenvald talked, Minfilia felt a distaste in his voice. (Was it because she’s not a fighter? Was it because she was weak, fragile? Minfilia once again buried those feelings, at least. The boy was trying. Oh, how he was trying. They had both seen the horrors, and felt their minds change as they sealed Primals.)

Minfilia took a deep breath inwards. “You’re right. I… I managed to best Merlwyb in a battle of wits. That’s not a common thing, is it? She’s who gave me Lutia, of course. But if I’d not had the conviction of a fighter, then perhaps the Kobold would have summoned a stronger Titan. Perhaps Titan would have caused more injuries.

Perhaps I would have had to put more people in danger.” Minfilia felt herself calming a little, even if she hid so much. “And then, we sealed Titan - even if the creature was stolen by Alisaie.

Gods, I hope she’s okay.” No, no, Minfilia bundled into herself again, biting her lip - a tiny bit of blood dripping from it. “She’s sick. But she refused to slow down, Arenvald.”

“Like you, kupo?”

Silent between them. Minfilia found her voice again. “She was bleeding white,” Minfilia commented quietly. “I’ve been trying to rest, Arenvald. But the world keeps moving.

I don’t want to take this on alone.”

A gentle squeeze from Arenvald. “Then you don’t need to. We’re allies, remember? Friends. Even if we’re all a little odd. I… I’m here to support you. It’s what us Ala Mhigans need to do, together.”