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Far across the ocean, on an island in the western region of Ivalice, there lied a castle. A castle that had once been sacred of its own history that the world simply never knew, one Ivalice itself would not record upon the mysterious breeze flowing through across its walls. The castle encompassed the entirety of the island which was simply a giant rock sculpted by the eternal grace of the sea itself, millennial hands carving smoothly the jagged rocks with rushing hands of white, the long sunset bleeding forth from the sky of orange hue upon the yellow sandstone walls. The front hall stood empty, murmurs silenced by the breeze of tumultuous waves slithering across the six stone pillars that supported the main entrance, an old red carpet between and one great twin set of oaken red doors. The moment the breeze stopped, the doors burst open with a hefty kick as there stood a lone moogle, shadowed over by two larger forms behind him. Light came through as the green-armoured clan leader stood grinning confidently, gazing upon the empty stone hall shouting: "Anyone home, kupo?!" Berniere smiled cockily as he rushed forwards with sword out and ready, knowing already the answer to his question, orange pompom bobbing wildly on top of his head until he stopped when not a single soul called out to him. The wind did not even dare respond back to him, simply silent as his two companions walked through the door standing either side of the white glossy moogle. The white nu-mou of furrowed bushy eyebrows in a well-groomed cloak of red and blue layers, along with the blonde hume of tight-wound hair and striking blue mage outfit wrapped tight round her body with wide collar and buttoned down prim as the moogle shook his head disapprovingly, whilst clicking his tongue at the empty hall. "Tu-tu-tu-tu-tut...not very good manners in this place I must say." "Indeed," replied Margaret, "even death has no excuse for lack of grace." "Is this truly it?" asked Enoch. "It seems rather...isolated to be of any interest." "It is what I saw kupo," said Berniere. "It has to be, to mean something this place, and I must know what it is about, might even allude to something more terrible, or dangerous even-" "I understand Berniere, but do you not think that perhaps taking the advice of an artifact's pulse into one's mind is not...unknowledgeable of you?" "Hmhmhmhm..." He turned towards the well-dressed nu-mou with a grin on his face condescendingly. "If you wish to call me an idiot then do so, kupo. You don't have to be so wordy to spare my feelings besides, you DID come." "My apologies, I am just concerned." "Don't be! Enoch we have been friends for ten years, you should know by now to trust me." "It's not you I do not trust, it is this...vision you so call." "We all saw it," said Margaret haughtily, "I do not speak for either of you but I can most certainly say I am not insane and if you so share that mass delusion with me then by proxy you are not either." "That is true...well then, what are your orders?" The moogle turned back towards the other side of the hall seeing the other doors further into the castle, his sword swishing out with left hand tucked inside its basket-shaped hilt like the fine rapier it was. "Close formation, Margaret you cover the front, Enoch you keep an eye on our backs kupo. For now our goal is to find that room. Search every room you can find and if any people are still left out here...then we shall see if they are friend or foe." "Very well," said Enoch, "but I did notice the residue of airship engines at the lower dock areas indicating there had been some here." "Then we shall find whatever made them leave and hope that we can fight it. ONWARDS KUPO!"

And so Clan Herne rushed forwards with surprising gaiety in their steps, Margaret with purple rune-covered staff topped by rose-shaped pommel alongside Enoch with ornate crosier of copper-green that curled into a pointed wreath. Fleet of foot beneath their cloaks and armour as the moogle bashed through the second doorway finding an even larger hall that opened out towards the inner courtyard. The place had been long abandoned clearly from the lack of care to its gardens, four beautifully cultivated triangular shapes of green with dappled flowers of pink, purple, blue and orange in each quadrant. Now however with no one to tend to them, they were starting to wild and ungainly, clumsy-footed vegetation overgrowing out of place, conquering its fellow neighbours as vines and weeds started to choke the very life out of them in the slowest murderous desecration ever committed. All around the courtyard walls were different areas to access, by means of four towered sectors to the north, east, southeast and southwest of each other, a short distance by any means across the courtyard itself. The largest tower, presumably the main living quarters themselves for the former lord and master, was right in front of them towards the north overshadowing the edge of the island's cliff. They decided to circulate counterclockwise from the southwest which, judging by the faint smell of rancid food from within, was formerly the castle's kitchen. At first there was no sign of life, the large square room of kilns on three sides and four central tables fit into a square within the centre showing plenty of food had been left behind just wasting away. The smell was not unbearable, but the fact it symbolised the utter lifelessness of the castle was not lost on them. Knowing the servants' quarters were nearby, they scaled the staircase next to the kitchen to the smaller humble rooms of the former workers, only to find them completely bereft and wracked with ruin. Beds torn in half by the very seams of their frames, puddles of various liquids smeared across the unvarnished floor, dressers and cupboards filled with sheets and clothes ripped ruthlessly in chaos. But at the very centre of it all was its former inhabitants themselves, hollowed massacred people with the flesh still clinging on to their lifeless bones. At least, lifeless in theory when they slowly rose up with pale skinless cheeks stretching out from their jaws as they shrieked empty with sorrow. At least seven of them rose up, all humes that lurched forwards with daggers and wooden clubs. Clan Herne's three highest members braced themselves for a fight, the nu-mou Enoch chanting a hail of water to sweep through across the floor washing them back against the wall. The sudden gush of a thick tidal wave compressed into the room slamming them against the brick, was soon followed up by Margaret summoning a vicious thunderstorm to electrocute them. Whatever flesh remained scorched in an instant, burnt completely dry as Berniere rushed forwards upon this weakened group.

Ducking beneath one huge swing of a wooden bedpost in a corpse's hands, the moogle dodged down and to the left before a striking diagonal leap upwards towards severing the weakened spine. The zombie's head went rolling off its back before Lavant planted his feet on its bony chest before kicking off straight towards the next opponent, slamming his rapier-like sword into another's hollow skull socket. They cried out just as they did when they were alive, shrieking as he slapped his feet onto shoulders and stabbed right in the eyesocket before sawing through its neck. A crooked dagger swung out towards him as one zombie became much more daring than the others, Berniere fencing briefly with it as their swords scraped and striked off along the other's blade. All the foe could do was stab forwards and each time it did the moogle simply deflected it by an upwards strike horizontally, right before Margaret blasted it in the face with a pulsating fireball. The last four were wrought together within one violent maelstrom courtesy of Enoch's power of wind, whirling them into a desiccated pile of bones that staggered trying to withstand the brief storm. Two of them were struck down by a shattering blast of ice crushing them against the wall to rend whatever miserable etch of darkness had kept them sentient, whilst Berniere sliced apart the legs of another to tear through its bony knees. Fallen to the floor, it tried to swing down a heavy club but the moogle dodged right easily, before hopping onto the club and striking the spinal throat with his sword as if it were a golf club, knocking the skull hard enough to shatter it against the wall. With the fourth one too battered by the power of Aero to withstand before crumbling back to dust, they headed back downstairs towards another region of the castle, this time choosing to go directly towards the southeast tower. This contained the armour and the guards' sleeping quarters, a more troublesome task ahead of them for what foes may lie within. Weapons had been pilfered ramshackle from the supplies, cannons left rotting inside and up in storage along with their prized iron balls of weight, the several wooden racks now empty with not even the shape of their former prizes to complete them. But with an armoury came more armoured foes, as once again they saw the apparent revenant undead come to life upon their approach, well-guarded by firm steel only partially rusted in some places. These were also much more dangerous having proper swords of either 2 1/2 feet, or even longer ones stretchign out towards 4 feet. There also lied several former spear-wielders, rusted pikes brandished in the dying light as they screeched howls of torment towards Berniere's small group. "What horror must have befell them?!" asked Enoch pressingly. "More importantly," replied Berniere, "how many are there kupo?!" "Does it matter?" said Margaret. "The dead do not count their blessings and so neither should we! THUNDAGAAA!"

Striking first with a brutal storm of hate, the lightning scorched across their armour licking with violent electric tongues that fused to their very bones, screams of undead agony rent through the very tower. Enoch, seeing the horde of perhaps a dozen before him, tried to ease their pain and thin out the numbers by means of a powerful incantation of holy origin, murmuring to himself. Being a much more powerful form of magic, he would be left exposed before the enemy unless Berniere could stop them coming. The moogle rushed forth at the sight of his foe's first steps, his sword a paltry 2 feet compared to the bareskinned swordsman's 4-foot blade. Wielded in two hands of rotting greyish-red sinew, the sword came down hard as Berniere dodged right before stabbing right through one of its bony legs. He was thankful the undead could still feel like the living in some cases, watching the wincing pain as it staggered to keep itself upright swinging its longsword towards him. The knight ducked flat out on his back, the sword sweeping past his whiskers by perhaps a few inches before he hopped back on his feet and leapt upwards with a backwards somersault, as if about to do a roundhouse flying kick but with his sword rather than his feet. Whirling his blade in his hands he sliced straight into what remained of the foe's jugular, muscular corpsejuice trickling out in a small spurt of agony as he tore through the neck ligament before severing it off. With one head sliced off enough to fall backwards, the zombified guard fell just in time for Enoch to chant: "LAZARUS MULTITUDO!" An almighty overwhelming light beamed forth from his staff before channelling through his hand, pointing it straight towards one group of four undead vanguards who gasped howling at the holy presence. What normally was a spell to resurrect those from that of mortal fatigue, now became a weapon of light itself towards the unholy creatures. Their screams silenced out in one breath almost as if breathing their thanks for being freed of eternal torment, the four guards crumbling to dust upon their embrace with the almighty light of gods. Margaret kept crowd control with a constant stream of lightning beaming unto their heads, crippling their armour and electrifying their joints ruthlessly to the point that three of them practically exploded into a pile of bonedust. Whatever armour they once had would be rent asunder to the four corners of the room streaking hot white with electro-charged force as Berniere waited for one spear-wielding guard to lurch forwards for a vengeful attack. The moment the spiked tip thrust forth, he backed off and hopped straight on top of the wooden pole before rushing up along it fleet of foot, roaring as he carved right through the pikeman's neck, the smallest of faint pustule dripping down its bony sternum before collapsing just after the moogle leapt off from his shoulder. Spinning forwards with a spiralling thrust, he tore through the air like a corkscrew in a hurricane as he shattered through one guard's sword by pure force of velocity, breaking the soldier's weak blade and jamming his rapier right into the skull's jaw. The strength of his thrust alone snapped the spine backwards with a violent KRAKK, the guard stumbling with a gasping moan of lingering pain before Berniere saw another sword swing towards his side. Leaping above the slicing blade, he stomped his foot down upon the snapped-back skull severing it completely from the rest of its body before hopping to the next opponent. Screaming with power in his sword alone, he came down with blade pointed downwards as he split the rotted skull in half, crackling underfoot as bone shards flew on either side of him.

Lodging his rapierpoint in the top of the spine, he backflipped off with a mighty pull of his sword in the spine and watched the last guardian fall of the armoury. Sighing with a little relief, he turned towards his friends as Margaret finished up the job, the last remaining garrison given an almost insulting shot of Fira that roasted the top half of his body into ash. Towards the eastern tower, they soon found the library and chapel both of which connected nicely into each other by dualistic structure. The widened tower went left towards the library, or right towards the chapel facing towards where the sun had once risen. They decided to head towards the library first, more out of curiosity and its larger stature for possible enemies to hide in. What they saw was a rather conical-structured room where bookcases stood no wider than the space of three people apart from each other. The bookcases themselves curved rather oddly to fit in with the wall as one spiral staircase stood in the middle of the room. The moment they entered however, books suddenly went flying upon them with a vicious shriek of unearthly origin, harpies borne of paper flesh, words torn into black howling vortices in place of mouths as they swooped down upon them. Margaret shot out a blast of Fira more focused towards a smaller contingent of the devious tomes swarming onto them, wishing not to set the whole library ablaze whilst Berniere ducked and leaned violently fast. One book, two book, shrieking past like bats, paper as sharp as razor blades slicing across his cheek harshly as the third book that passed him felt his sword drive into its middlesection and cleave perfectly in half. Enoch was more vulnerable but he had a plan, striking up a spell the moment the page-turning monsters whooshed unto their heads. With a glimmering of green in his eye the nu-mou swept his staff before him creating an aura faintly upon his form shimmering before the demonic scripture. Soon as they striked him, he faded harshly from existence for but a brief second, ghostly pale images of him blurring into three at once as the magic took hold to help him evade the wild assault. As the harkening flock of texts screamed down upon them after circulating the top floor of the library, the nu-mou roared a blast of wind to send them spiralling off course, fluttering and tearing the very pages out in a bitter storm. Lore forgotten now briefly flung to the ages as Margaret followed with a burning blast, of Fira that incinerated the remaining books. The few that remained flapping shortly towards the ground were soon out of print, as Berniere wasted no time in rushing forth and scraping his sword through its very spine, ripping it in half as a ghostly essence left its possessive tome.

With the library now empty of offensive literature, they made their way back towards where two doors meet and headed straight for the chapel, hoping to find some faint trace of hope within its most hallowed sanctum. But no more would the light shine upon this chapel, a resplendent-looking place that somehow remained untouched by the many pews of polished wood, facing down an aisle six seats long to the pulpit. Three stained glass windows surrounding the central pulpit had darkened considerably by lack of care and abandonment, as well as the Rood of Iocus itself, the grand symbol of the Kildean faith resembling an X with an arrow pointing upwards, towards the heavens always. Enoch made a gesture of reverence in respect towards the six-pointed symbol in the central glass murmuring: "Even in a place as damned as this, the light of Kiltia doth shine with beatitude." "The gods do not fear," said Margaret sternly, "and so neither should we. Are you a faithul mog, Berniere?" "Me, kupo?" replied Berniere. "I have known my whole life by the light of Kiltia, of course I am!" "Hm...I never see you attend the church." "I make my vows elsewhere, that and the work I do to keep Ivalice safe enough surely makes up for it." "It is not a faith for the weekend. No faith is." "I never said I was not faithful, kupo." "Perhaps," said Enoch briefly, "some benediction will help us in this forsaken castle." They all agreed and bowed humbly before the grand Rood of Iocus, making their solemn promise to the gods and their deity above all. "By the light of Kiltia may we bring warmth to this land, to the land of Ivalice until we are awash with bliss. To forever love all that is good, to forever banish all that is evil, forever and ever, Far-" Their prayer had been silenced upon the shattering of glass. They looked up, and saw with startlement the symbol of Iocus had been broken apart violently before blinding them with light, streaking from the outside world briefly as something howled with vengeance through the chapel walls. Gasping with tension in their hearts, they saw something black swirl through the air like a darkened mist infernal rush through them like a wind, tearing deep across their very bones like a vile blizzard. None of them could prepare themselves for it, a screaming gale that wrought their very souls with malice and contempt shrieking as Berniere choked back a sob of pain bitterly down his throat. His hand spasmed against his blade struggling to fight back, tears ripped through from his very eyes as vision come briefly to him, faintly but surely. All of which deformed into a most deepening sorrow that rooted him to his knees, staggering as the monstrous visage left them, shrieking out towards the courtyard as Enoch asked frightfully: "What...what vile penumbrance was that?" "Cursed bastard," said Margaret, "snarling like a beast to defile this begotten place." "All the more reason to make haste, it fled towards the central building." "Let us go, kupo."

Berniere took a deep breath and strided towards the final castle area, the main quarters themselves where only the highest of nobility would tread. The moment they entered the main castle structure, they felt a sudden pressure of the atmosphere upon them. The finest of tapestries and upholstery all perfectly well-preserved, chaise longues in immaculate condition, cupboards and dressers and carpets without the slightest taint of rust or decomposure amongst them. The drawing room was the first place they saw, for guests to be entertained by. The glorious red rug covered the entire room protecting the newcomers from stone-cold floors, a central composite of flower-patterened sofas and armchairs with red roaring fire bringing warmth to the entire room. Portraits hung on the wall, except none of them had any faces that they could make out. The people wore elegant gowns and refined cloaks but their faces had been warped, painted into a twisting convulsive display that destroyed any identity. The light of the fire glinted upon the dressers and cupboards around the room, fine china tucked away. Yet none of them felt safe or at ease, the atmosphere far too uncertain and almost unreal to be of any consequence. They said not a word for fear of disturbing some presence as they made their way upwards. The dining room was next, a grand banquet hall with a single oblong table spanning thirty seats, thirteen on each side. Everything had been laid out, but no food had come as cutlery sat waiting, sparkling, not a speck of dust upon them nor the white tablecloth fluttering softly in the breeze, the three glass windows to one side offering a perfect view of the sea from slatted frames. The moment they walked past, they smelt a wondrous scent, of freshest foods from memories of their childhood. Yet they saw nothing on the table and despite Berniere being rather tempted to look for the source of the scent, he kept his stance firm and walked onwards. Not a single soul could be heard, not even their own footsteps. The bedrooms were now next, and whilst the perfect carpet and four-poster beds offered great warmth they too felt cold and uncertain. Despite the immaculate ornate mirrors above white grand dressers and soft plush velvet of royal blue on the bed, but this time they heard a woman humming to herself. It seemed to come from the mirror as they looked, and whilst they heard the sound of her, there was nothing but their own three faces staring back at them. The moogle was first to look away, but the moment he did the humming stopped. Then his friends saw something even more strange in the mirror.

The mirrored Berniere, who at first had walked away like the real one, now turned back to them sweetly smiling before a shattering crack came down over his right eye. Blood began to run down his cheek as the moogle himself turned to see his visage broken and bloodied softly. The blood slowly trickled down towards the mirrored moogle's lips, and the moment it reached the bottom of its frame, it began to bleed onto the dresser itself. They could see no liquid upon the polished glass itself yet somehow it trickled out underneath. The one in the mirror then simply began humming the same song the unknown woman had been doing so previously. The clan said nothing and turned away briskly hurrying up towards the stairs towards the final area, the throne room itself. A hall once fit for a king with red royal carpet and a resplendent gold seat of velour to survey his small kingdom with. Whatever thane had been in this place was somewhat wealthy enough to contain all of this, and yet there was nothing that they saw that could ever provide such wealth to this miserable place. The floating banners hung upon poles wedged into stone above them just simply flapped in the breeze from two windows on either side of the hall, the nu-mou asking: "What in the name of sanity has inflicted upon this place? This entire atmosphere of this one room alone is much different." "The madness of a king," murmured Margaret, "despondent with pity for a nation he never had in the first place." "I agree...what gave this castle wealth, I see no produce that they could give to the mainland, no crops, no livestock, no...how could a king even exist here, I have never even heard of this kingdom of...what name was it again?" "I do not know kupo," said Berniere, "I never even heard of a castle on an island like this. It was not recorded on any map yet somehow...I...felt it was here." "I did too. We were wrong to come here, and our pilot knew from his ship to speak ill about our voyage." "Don't say that, people might need help kupo." "And if they are already dead?" "It could not have been a prediction if there was not a reason to come here!" "Is that reason judicial to us?" said Margaret. "Or are we simply following the path of the dead?" "...I...I do not know, but-...wh-what?" The throne room had suddenly transformed before their very eyes, not a single flash of light or a sound to be made as the place now lied in ruins. The grand seat had its velour rotted through and gold tarnished, thrown to its side as the carpet laid in tatters and banners moth-eaten, as they now saw the skeletons of those who formerly served this palace. The dead were numerous, all of them hume just like that of those they had fought previously downstairs only these ones had no darkness in them. No blight surrounded them enough to come risen to attack, as Berniere saw something new.

A doorway now stood behind the overthrown royal seat, once protected by its throne as they saw a maiden stand inside of it. Watching them, soft grey hair and a whitish-blue dress before she raced up the stairwell, the clan rushing forwards to try and stop her. "W-WAIT, STOP COME BACK KUPO!" "WE ARE HERE TO HELP!" cried Enoch. "DO NOT BE ALARMED!" The stairway was small but winding upwards quite a bit, a good two minutes reaching up towards the height of the stately small castle as they found its last room. A windowless room with absolutely nothing inside of it. Except for one single planetarium reaching a height of twenty feet tall. A construct of seven golden rings each with a single planet hovering in fixed orbit around a central radiant jewel, the seven planets also represented each by an individual crystal of different colours. Words engraved in a language not of Ivalician script had transcribed the length of each orbital ring. All of the rings spun in different directions slowly as if by invisible hand. The seventh outer ring shifted to the right, whilst the sixth rotated downwards, the fifth to the left, the fourth upwards, third going right, and the last two smallest against the central "sun" went spinning in diagonal opposites. All three of them watched with fascination at the odd construction as Margaret asked sternly: "What...fool's display is this? This doesn't match anything in our astronomy charts." "Perhaps our island's king," murmured Enoch, "was more mad than we first thought he was." "Is this not accurate, kupo?" asked the moogle. "I do not recall how our skies look like from within a sphere." "There are twelve constellations, following the path of the sun and the moon, surely you remember this Berniere?" "Twelve...constellations-OH, right the Zodiacal Constellations kupo." "Correct, and each constellation dominates the sky of Ivalice for one single month. But this makes no sense, there are seven celestial objects on this astrolabe, I...do not know what this means." "And what of that girl?" said Margaret Mitford. "What godforsaken corner of this damned place did she run off to?!" "Look." Standing in front of the planetarium, watching the rings slowly brush past each other in orbit, was the girl in the white dress. They were almost certain she had not been standing there the whole time and only just came into existence but now they were not sure about their eyes' trustworthiness in this place. She appeared to be perhaps no more than 14 years old, but her voice spoke a much greater sense of age and dignity despite its plaintiveness. Almost too controlled for a girl her age. "You came." Her dress brushed softly beside an unknown breeze. "So too you are now pitied." "Who are you?" asked Berniere. "What happened to this place, kupo?" "This castle...does not exist." "What?" "A forgotten piece, of rampant chaos. Stars of a foreign land untouched by tears bloodstained. Yours...and mine." "Enough drivel," demanded Margaret, "what's so important about this place? What do you know about artifact?!" "It is a gift...a gift of destiny." "Then I say your gift is shoddy and underwhelming, when all I see is nothing but an abandoned old ruin full of undead misery! Now stop speaking in riddles and tell me what the point of all this is!" "Margaret please," said Enoch, "she is but a child, let her-" "I do not have time for this!" "Time," said the young girl, "is the only thing you have left. This castle has borrowed people...lives forgotten, unbeknownst yet taken from afar and reconstructed by our imaginings. A subject whim...to construct this device." "What?!" "This...marvellous device. Have you not seen anything so beautiful in your entire existence? A world...beyond other worlds where we shall rule two kingdoms. Yours...and mine." "I do not know what tripe you are on about but I am sick of this already, who are you?!" "I...am but the frozen half. The frozen half of Him who shall save you." "...what in Faram's name are you on about you pathetic little-" "LOOK OUT!"

Berniere dodged just in time towards Margaret and threw her down to her knees as the girl's grey hair violently shot up towards Mitford and flew piercing like a dozen spears into the wall behind them. The crackling stab of the maiden's hair untwisting revealed that it wasn't even hair at all, but rather it was actually made of solid ice. Pulsing, undulating like a thousand newborn serpents fresh and glistening with flexible forms as the voice of the maiden twisted in her throat. "You, are wrought with pain of future, my strange heroes...can you save me?" "Who are you?!" roared Berniere. "Where are the rest of this castle's people?!" "There...was but a shadow across my master's vision , briefly but He could not see for a moment...incon ceiveable...a great injustice, to not allow Him this pleasure of taking this castle's newest citizens, a great new paradise for those who could not last of this strange world...as we bring them to existence, burning across space itself, it is only Time...that we shall enslave. _" "What are you babbling about?! Are they dead?!" "_No...that thing who could not weep , took them from me...that very same key my master found across existence, for it should betray us...we do not have the same ambition but no matter...we are here now." "What thing?!" "The great sorrow...a strange existence, weeping from outside of existence, tears trickling throughout the universe and every star that it shall touch feels greater sorrow for all...and so shall be the day that destiny comes...when the planets align in my world, so He...shall save you. _" "Save me?!" "_From...your holocaust. _" The girl turned at last, her hair unending above as Clan Herne stepped back slightly with shock. The girl had no face, a hollowed abscess from her chin to her forehead, infinite darkness as she began to scream. It was a howl of great despair, a banshee's cry as from her maw there came a dark crooked spire twisting towards like a vile lance, straight across the room forcing Berniere to dodge one side underneath it. She did not even move as her hair violently stabbed downwards straight into the stone floor, the moogle strafing side to side between the dark hailstorm as Margaret blasted a wave of fire to burn whatever had formed from it. Blazing from her staff, she ripped through half of the icy tendrils that started to grow and throb emanating from their stone roots, creeping along the floor towards her turning ice-cold to the touch. Enoch was just out of range to not be of concern to them, taking the opportunity to strike the girl off-balance. "_AERO, PUELLA!" The gust of wind slammed into the girl, spiralling furiously fast but she resisted easily standing her ground, her bluish-white dress fluttering as she brought a hand up to her "face". In counterattack, she brought her other hand up towards the spiral gust and twisted it the other way round, striking thunderous purple light throughout it as it began to reverse towards Enoch. The nu-mou could not expect it and found himself assaulted by his own attack, slammed brutally into the wall by an unending force, screams lost to the four winds as he cried out: "A-AAAAAAARGH!" "ENOCH!" Berniere ran towards him as Margaret twirled her staff, deciding to cut her down to size with a little debuffing of the girl's clearly vehement power. From her purple staff, the black mage chanted an incantation that propelled itself towards the girl. Struck down by a violet aura, the girl shrieked and felt an odd sense of exhaustion briefly assail her, her resistance to magic reduced leaving her wide open to attack, as well as throwing her off-kilter to cease her attack on Enoch.

Once the nu-mou was down on the ground, he hobbled himself quickly out of the way before Margaret struck out with firey storms of Firaga, roaring with both hands wide open red hot towards the girl. The hairlike projectiles shattered their way through her spell, twisting and forking through the flames as they melted one after the other, puddles forming between both women. Soon the icy force managed to create a solid thick wall forcing Firaga against it, black magic burning ceaselessly against but with no way of getting through. The strength of it was so thick it permeated an intense cold that brought shivering white breaths upon all their lips. Margaret kept her stance, pushing harder against as the flames burned brighter, screaming before she saw something break through. The ice wall had split just briefly enough as the hollow girl's face shot out a screaming sharpness. A literal sharpness in the form of a sword made of pure tenebral essence that tore into the mage's leg, her fire deflecting it just enough to not hit dead center. Margaret gasped out as the black blade ripped into her leg, forcing her down on one knee before she cried: "YOU...DARE STRIKE _ ME!? WORTHLESS CHILD! " With staff up high she brought sheer lightning down upon the girl in the form of Thundaga, striking through her very nerves and shattering the inside of her seemingly-delicate body. The puddles of water that lead towards the maiden worked perfectly as conductor, hot screams of agony riveted through as the high-tier thunder broke force upon her, electrocuting enough to blacken her feet, and scorch her frail fingers. It was enough to force the icy swarm of grey hair back enough for the black mage to hobble back, and spread a hi-potion down her leg to recover the tearing wound waiting for the next attack. But Enoch had her covered since he had been given enough time to summon his own power upon seeing a possible weakness. A spell that could not be reflected back against him that he spent the entirety of Margaret's assault in forming. "GIGA, EFFERUNT! _PUELLAAAA!" From his copper-green crosier there came a shining flare of light, radiating wider and wider until it consumed his entire vision, swallowing the nu-mou inside its almighty essence. A shimmering sound, a whistling that signalled great destruction piercing the very ears came to all four of them as the nu-mou sage brought forth his most powerful spell. An all-consuming Giga Flare that coated half the room with hot smouldering eruption, burning across the planetarium model as well as the girl inside of it.

An almost nuclear force of power that shook the very foundations of the castle, Enoch was the only one that stood without falter as his clan members staggered against the sheer strength of his sagacious skill. The fire itself screamed with a rising cloud of pure flame, howling to consume all inside it as whatever remnants of the girl's hair of darkness that remained, would be bitterly short and twisted with agony as the girl cried from within the storm of fire. And yet she stood, simply in the midst of it burnt through to her very core. Her dress somehow remained unburnt, scorched and blackened but not completely desiccated by the fire consuming half the room and neither was the planetarium model unharmed behind her. But they saw her hands had been rotted through, a skeletal visage along with her feet as her ice hair regrew and it was only then that they realised it was not growing from her head, but from inside of her mouth itself. Cold mist breaths gasping from her throat turned to solid ice slithering back along her cheeks. As the maiden seemed to breathe more evil ice from inside her throat, she wrought forth from her skinless hands a great potent energy of burning hot electricity, shrieking along the floor like vipers wildly attacking all three intruders. The moogle dodged best he could, but even with his speed he could not get close nor evade all of the striking violet lightning that pierced and rattled throughout his armour. Crying out as he struggled to resist, his blade magnetised in his hands and sent burning pains through his fingers as Margaret simply fired back with another Firaga blast. Enoch however decided to play healer for the time being waiting in case one of his allies fell as he took the time to heal himself up, drinking a hi-potion to soothe whatever wounds permeated his body. He also drank up an ether in the mix to rejuvenate his magic senses as he tried another attack, chanting: "VENENUM, PUELLA!" Firing a deadly toxic spell towards the maiden, he swung his staff out shooting her with a hot poisonous Bio invocation that seeped into her body, screeching with acid burns that ate into her very bones. Now her hands were withering, rotting to dust as did her feet which she struggled to stand on. Her head was already an abscessed wound and not getting any better as she covered it with disappearing fingers, howling despair as her snakelike hair pushed themselves onto the ground forcing her body upwards. A throne of ice almost.

Levitating in front of the planetarium model, what remained of her body now began dripping beneath her dress, desiccating into fragments of bone and skin and yet still not succumbed to death. The maiden now shrieked as she striked hard with one giant claw of solid white, glinting ice scraping along the walls as all three clan members ducked before Margaret fired back her Firaga. But she was starting to tire out, her magic power hitting low as Berniere tossed her an ether, a small green bottle that she grabbed before gulping back gladly. "KEEP HER DISTRACTED," roared Berniere, "I HAVE AN IDEA KUPO!" The black mage did not respond but understood, twirling her staff to form another firey blaze tearing across the hailstorm that descended upon her. Icy chunks came bitterly down upon her face, scraping on her skin and ripping across the flesh, a thousand daggers the size of her fingernails as she repelled most of them with a burning wall, roaring indifference towards her enemy. "THIS LADY IS NOT FOR TURNING TO THE LIKES OF YOU FOR _ SURRENDER! " In the midst of the firefight between flames and frozen water, the moogle ran dodge-hopping the brutal maelstrom as he slid hard upon his rear, scraping beneath the burning ice as he skidded with puddles underneath his feet. It was all he needed to reach Enoch who had been isolated upon one side of the room, taking him by the hand and rushing towards the ice-cold maiden. But she saw them ready to approach, and from the puddles before them made violent shards of glacial water stopping them in their tracks. But Margaret was on the case, sweeping her cast of fire across the battlefield and melting any obstacles whilst focusing upon the girl mostly with full force. It was enough to deem her a threat that the maiden wrought a most violent spell, striking lightning that somehow became colder than the devil's heart all across the planetarium. Screeching from her absent face, the lightning turned blue and everything it touched would turn to sudden ice, trapped in solid crystal by the violent compulsion of white-hot sparks and frigid temperature. Margaret however had nothing to fear for the lightning storm laid rampant upon the room as she kept in her place, using her own Thundaga spell to reflect back or at the very least redirect the electrical monsoon away from her. The cold lightning followed her own hot lightning, causing sparks of brightness to shriek and pop their ears deafening, an explosive force that gave plenty enough distraction before Berniere was right underneath the lone maiden. "_MARGARET, HERE!" "BURN YOU WORTHLESS HARLOT!" The black mage blasted a Fira spell straight towards the icy tendrils closest to Berniere, sending the girl off-balance from her levitated self as suddenly they shattered through. At the same time the moogle slammed his sword into the melting-hot water to carve through, striking while the iron was hot literally to tear through every cold glistening root she had to support herself before falling to the floor screaming. Both nu-mou and moogle charged their weapons with latent green power, trembling in their voices as they combined forces, an innate power through sheer will and training. "_UUUULLLLLLLTI MAAAAAAAAAAAA! _"

Side by side they swung their weapons hard as sword and staff shattered across the skull of the lost maiden, a tremendous energy running through their wrists as her head combusted with psychotic strength. Shimmering green from their weapons left trails in the air as her entire body followed suit, the power of Ultima itself focused into such a singular point it destructively corrupted her entire body. What remained under her dress caused everything to crumple, crackling with the sound of old ruins falling to worthless dust. She barely had a chance to scream her lament as Enoch and Berniere gasped exhaustively, feeling the Ultima's essence surge through them as it receded finally. Panting hard they bent over with smiles on their faces, smirking awkwardly as they felt their arms stop trembling, before the moogle sheathed his blade, with Margaret walking over towards them strutting like an impatient lawyer. "HHhhhh...HHHHHhhh...that...th-that was...hhhhoh, kupo." "Indeed," said Enoch breathless, "hhhhh...I...hhhhh...h-haven't used that...since...the Sercia mission." "At this...rate you'll...hhhhave a heart attack, old fool." "HHHAH! Says the...one who...can't sit still for once." "Are you two finished?" said the hume despondently. "You're acting like two sodomites at school trying to sneak behind doors." "Why you say that?" said the moogle jokingly. "Anyone you know?" "DON'T be absurd." "Hhhahahahaha, you're such a wet nurse kupo. Hooooo...hokay, we're done here." "Done? I think not, we did not come all this way just to fight some worthless toy made of an aquamancer's foolish whimsy." "Aquamancer or not," replied Enoch, "perhaps the artifact was calling us to stop this creature, before it could ever escape." "Possibly." The black mage crossed her arms tapping her foot, looking over towards the flat dress where bone shards now laid within. She investigated it softly, wondering what it was as she grinded some smaller pieces between her fingers. The fact it crumbled so easily made her realise something was off. "...strange." "Hmm?" "These bones are far more ancient than one expected...they crumble too easily." "So did the necrotic downstairs," said the nu-mou. "Yes...that's the problem. Normally when necromancy is at work the bones would be far more recent, they would not simply crumple to ash unless very ancient. You said this castle had been abandoned only recently?" "As far as we know yes, we saw the people in our vision and there was airship engine residue on the docking outpost." "Hmmmm...then why are there bones so ancient that they simply break to dust upon touching?" "Perhaps those are their ancestors, kupo?" asked Berniere. Ancestry. A male's voice whispered throughout the room as they looked around nervously. An existence defiled by one's name never shifting. "WHO'S THERE?!" Berniere unsheathed his blade fiercely. "COME OUT KUPO! SHOW YOURSELF!" I have always been here. "WHERE?!" When the stars align...and Time too shall be my subject.

They slowly turned towards where the voice had emanated, looking up towards the giant frame of the planetary chart constantly shifting to itself. Yet now they saw it began to shift its rings differently, creaking one back the opposite way occasionally as if changing out of orbit. Yet everytime it did, the voice seemed to whisper with murmuring quietness that pierced through to the very brain maddeningly. You are heroes...are you not? "...yes," said Berniere uncertain, "and who may I be...speaking to, kupo?" A saviour...unwrought by a dark master's whim. A traveller, a vagrant, a king amongst stars and Time who shall one day bend to my will...if not in one dimension then in another. "Are you...no...surely not, are you...Occuria?" I am a god by any other name. Call me what you will. "Please," asked Enoch, "we are most deeply confused by this turn of events so, we would appreciate a straight answer. Are you Occuria?" No. "Ah..." But I am a god by any other name, besides that. "Are you here for a reason?" said Margaret stroppily. "Or are you some street magician toying with fabrics?" I walk amongst the stars and Time...you have seen my message. "Yes, your pitiful vision that led us to here and whatever godforsaken place this is now tell me, once and for all, why we are HERE!" You desire knowledge that badly? Come...let me tell you what you desire so badly. Margaret walked forwards haughtily as she stood before the astrolabe, waiting for something to come forth as the rings gently clicked in front of her. Scraping with a sound vibrating only she could hear, she heard the voice whisper three things inside her ear. Her face suddenly turned white as a hand clasped to her lips, stepping back as she began to shake violently with her other hand wrapped round her waist, before falling onto her knees. "M-Margaret?!" She could not speak for in that moment a great horror had taken over her mind, feebly grasping her staff as she wept harshlyt. Tearful sounds in the back of her throat before shrieking with howling sorrow, her cheeks turned red with hot tears streaking from her eyes bitterly. They could not even speak to her, words failing her as she cupped her face with shaking hands before Berniere turned towards the voice's origin. "What have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE KUPO!?" There is knowledge that mortals should not possess, if they are so inclined to believe so. Do you desire that knowledge too? "NO! I WILL NOT POISON MYSELF WITH YOUR LIES WHATEVER THEY MIGHT BE!" They are only lies when disproven...if fate has not happened, they cannot become anything but premonition. "SHUT UP! You...are not of this world whatever you might be, you will NOT sway me." Not even if I told you one simple word? "...hmph. One word?" The moogle simply sheathed his blade whilst Enoch tried to tend to Margaret, her hands clasping her ears as if trying to shut out the words she could still hear. "How can you possibly affect me by one word alone?" The mortal mind oft-proven to be as infinitely fragile as one might expect. "I am not fragile, I am Berniere Lavant, knight of Clan Herne kupo. For what purpose do you exist?" All I wish...is to help those who are lost and afraid of their destiny. "And what destiny do you call that, kupo?" The end of eventuality...the frail vagrance of your own time on this earth for what reasons there may come...I am simply here to save this world from its future. "Our future? How can you predict the future?" Time...is my servant. Or at least one day it shall be. Ten-thousand years I have commanded across other existences, and I have seen that this world...will one day suffer the most grave of cataclysms. "...how do I know you are not lying, kupo? For all I know you could be some cruel wizard's trick." When I am disproven, then you call it a lie....are you not afraid of premonition? "No, I am not. I create my own future, you may have beguiled my colleague's mind but you will not take me so easily. I am prepared for whatever sorcery you command, kupo." Then I will make you a deal...I will allow you to walk freely from this place and create your own future...if you can withstand that one word uttered by my lips of steel and prove you are so strengthed with diligence. "...very well." Berniere stood waiting with arms open as if beckoning a fight to him. "I have no sins in my heart, no lost or loved ones you can use against me, I do not fear you. Do your worst upon me, demon." So it shall be. Come close to me, Berniere Lavant...and I shall tell you a word of infinite possibility. He walked forwards as the spherical orbits slowly aligned themselves to whisper this one word to Berniere. As he stood waiting for what it would be, he felt the shimmering vibrations of another existence speak out to him, a transcendent pulse from ages past like the trembling of earthquakes of a distant memory of the universe. Whatever one word it had given, would forever change his life.

---

The day after Operation: Redwall, Clan Farthing and Clan Koridai had come to a meeting of sorts upon new revelations of their former mission. Fochs had slowly retold all he had learnt from their now-deceased enemy along with his madness and apparent goal, which took a long time for his people to comprehend amidst tears of rage and sorrow. The former army of Dire Rats had mostly departed in a rather fraught dismayed confusion, most of them having been travellers or merchants that had been lured towards the abbey and brainwashed by Scarface's former hold of power. But some had decided to stay and commence reparations for their past behaviour. It had taken some time to convince the two clans that there was no longer any malice but it took no more than a few looks of their blank sordid expressions, along with the fact they truly had no recollection of the past eight months, to know they were not at fault. Spending the next two nights amongst Clan Farthing's hospitality, they slowly recuperated and slowly integrated amongst them with deep forlorn apologies, despite some bitterness still within from those like Baldwin who simply kept by Fayne's resting side. The raptor sat by the smouldering campfire along with Fochs one early morn just as the dawn chorus started to come forth. Rain had come pouring in through the night as the sounds of birds chirped beautifully along with the constant rain, like static frought with the sweetest melody as the world began on its waking day with wettened droplets sleeking down upon their heads. The Farthing clan leader gently asked: "Can't sleep?" "Somewhat," said FG. "Body hurts like hell after that fight, I'm not good with lightning spells." "Still? Didn't you get checked over by the medics?" "Yeah but this is more magical, took a lot of hits from that darkness storm or whatever Scarface did to me." "Hm...thank you, again for helping us." The raptor smiled and shrugged at the clan leader, his head clearly matted by water trickling down from the trees. "Hey, it's fine I came here to do a mission and we succeeded thankfully. I'm sorry about all the...things that happened." "I know...I mean..." Fochs pressed his back against the great beech tree behind him relishing the cool bark against him, sheltering him from the rain. "It's a lot to take in...your own name not even part of you, your own worst enemy turning into...not the person you thought he was." "Yep...seems total bullshit frankly...why did they need Dahlia? And what the hell was that...thing that attacked Fayne in the prison?" "I don't know...whatever ritual had been planned we thankfully stopped...perhaps it's best we do not know whatever came from it." "Mmmm..." James cautiously clawed at the ground dull with little else to say sighing. A strange tiredness had come over him that sleep could not fix. "How's your friends?" asked Fochs. "Doing fine...Dahlia's shaken up but she's doing all she can to help Fayne who...frankly that foot's never gonna be the same again." "I'm...sorry." "Not your fault man...you got way worse issues to deal with, I can't believe all those people got brainwashed." "Well it's not going to get any better. I mean, where do we go from here? We have no name, no history, nothing...much as some of us wanted this it feels like a horrible wish gone wrong and the abbey is just...a former shade of itself that maybe some of us can't go back to, not after all that's happened." "Well...that means nothing's gonna tie you down anymore right? If you don't wanna go back to the abbey for all the painful memories you don't have, maybe go elsewhere?" "But where CAN we go? What place of sanctuary can we live?" "Could always try Lea Monde?" The Farthing Wood leader simply struggled and sighed before palming his face, both hands pressing thick against his red-furred hide as he felt exhaustion of his own swept over him. "I don't even belong in this place...none of us do." "You think I'm any better?" replied FG. "Trust me, I've been in lots of places where I don't fit, but sometimes you make it work." "Like being from another world?" "...wow, you really believed that?" "Was that a joke? I thought you were serious when you mentioned it last." "I was, maybe my clan doesn't believe me but I got no reason to lie to you." "Hm...frankly I feel the most gullible idiot in the whole wide world now...not even fit to be a leader." "What are you saying?!"

James turned towards him fully looking him straight in the eye with crossed legs. "You've got all the world to travel now Fochs, you guys can go anywhere you want and find a new sanctuary anytime. If you can't really go back to that abbey, what's stopping you from making your own world, your own little place, right here even! Don't have to call it Farthing Wood or whatever, make your own damn name!" "Heh...I dunno, I kind of like that name, much as I know it's from a children's tale." "Well fine, that's up to you, you're the leader Fochs." "I suppose...never really felt like I was leader of this group...now I know why." "I'm not exactly a natural born leader but you get the hang of it." "Heh...true...so, I take it you'll be wanting that artifact?" "Mmhmm." The raptor leaned back with arms crossed firmly. "And I promise that I will make sure it's kept out of hands' reach." "In Lea Monde?" "Yep, there's a lady out there who knows how to handle these things, she can lock it safely away." "Good. When your clan's ready to leave I'll hand you the book, but I advise you to head on south to Balfonheim Port. The Archadians won't really like the look of that book." "Hahahaha god no, you think I'm taking THAT book through the checkpoint, fuck no I had enough problems going through the first time. We'll take a ship at Balfonheim then, that's no problem." "I hope you do. You should get some sleep, or at least try to." "Don't you need some sleep too?" Fochs chuckled and shook his head knowing that he was right. "Then it seems we're at an impasse." "I'll go sleep when you do...we're leaders aren't we?" "We are...though we don't really work like them." "Pfft, whatever, we're the only leaders they have and that's what they stuck with so they got no choice." "Hmhmhaha...you can say that again." The two simply stared at the stars fading away in the morning light, creeping from the horizon as dawn slowly broke new unto the world. James felt ready to leave and soon his clan felt like leaving too as they were given thanks of gratitude, plenty of food and restocked medicine with Clan Farthing's supplies. The raptor was given the enchanted book with artifact inside safely preserved as they rode out on their chocobos towards the south direction of Balfonheim. They soon made their goodbyes as James shook Fochs' hand. "Thanks again for all your help," replied the forest clan leader. "You gonna be alright?" asked FG nervously. "We'll be fine...we can rebuild, we've done it the past eight months what's a few more going to hurt? And because you helped us, we'll help you, so if you need us for anything, you come find us with this. If you play this in our forest, we will always come to you." The Wolf-clad leader gave James a small whistle shaped peculiarly out of bark and reeds, the mark of holly leaves wrapped round it elegantly into a fine carving twisting along its length. He placed it in his satchel as the clans bid farewell, hitching up on their chocobos before they made tracks with Fayne struggling to get on as Baldwin lifted him up, his right foot wrapped tightly with gauze and renewed splints. "Thank you, and goodbye!" "Goodbye!" "Good hunting!" "Don't be a ssssstranger nooooow." "Moind the cracks in the road! AAAAHEHEHEHEHEHEH!" "Fare thee well!" "Thank you." With Clan Koridai finally leaving the forest region they stepped out onto the Cerobi Steppe, a wide gorgeous plain of uncultivated grass upon rising banks formed from solid cliffs. Already they could smell the sea air as the long distant horizon showed forth as two shades of blue, the clouds scuttling across so serenely as James said forcefully cheering: "Well I guess it's time for our next stop then! Just beyond those cliffs we've got Balfonheim waiting for us. Now who wants to go on an airship?!" "Could you be any more false, kupo?" said Navarro drolly. "Geez...sorry, thought after the rough time we had we might wanna liven things up a little." "I prefer not," said Fayne shortly. "Sooner we reach an infirmary the better." "Yeah can we hurry thisszh up pleasszhe?" said Baldwin darkly. "I'd rather not have to carry my brother'sszh corpsszhe the whole way." "D-DON'T SAY THAT!" screeched Dahlia. "That's a HORRIBLE thing to say!" "...yer right. I'm sszhorry." "Do not chide him Dahlia," said the bishop humbly, "he may care for me greatly and I admit our fraternal manner may appear to be quite...uncaring, but he would never want that on me." "After what you and I have been through," replied the nu-mou, "I should hope he doesn't chance fate with such words even in jest." "Okay okay," said FG, "it's alright, I know things have been hectic the last couple of days, but what matters is we're all still alive and even made some new friends to count on next time we're around here, alright?" They nodded humbly seeing good reason to end the argument before James added: "Fuck that Weezul though." "Agreed," said the clan all with agreement.

Balfonheim brought many memories of the sea back to James upon arriving at the port, all from many different worlds he had been to now rolled up in one. The ships of the sea creaking upon the waves reminded him of the Kremling gang, whilst the ships of the sky wrought memories of the galaxy and Citadel beyond. Yet what he was reminded of most, the very atmosphere, shining seas and crying oaths of rough-shodden workers stomping back and forth, was of Rogueport deeply. The grand vista of the town down below them as the streets sloped downwards to their right, gave them every bit of what they would expect within this far-off port of thieves and sailors. The sight of the sea shining far beyond in front of them, with the wind salty upon their face greatly lifted their spirits as they entered along with their chocobos, who in turn also loved smelling new things with great excitement, entering along Sea Breeze Lane as they stepped out from the winding canyon-like bluffs of Cerobi Steppe. The architecture reminded him of Rabanastre, but of less desert tones naturally, more sculpted of marble perhaps or something of a light greyish tone as if trying to blend in with the cliff faces of Cerobi Steppe behind them. But all through his walk south towards the docks he found himself wrapped in scents of the sea, fishes and salty seamen ranging from lithe oily humes to hulking bangaas rippling with scaled muscle. He could not help but find himself eager to start recording some of the sights on his omni-tool, having forgotten about it briefly in the past week. "This is not a tourist stop, kupo." He turned towards Navarro on his left furrowing her brow at him with Dahlia just out of focus, all three of whom were now walking beside their mounts leading them by the reins. "I know that," replied James, "I've just never been here before, I wanna record some memories." "And reminisce about our friend's wounded state?" "Not like that, come on we're about to take an airship, isn't that exciting!?" "I've had quite enough...excitement." James turned once more behind him upon Fayne's reply to him, sitting on his chocobo Asch of long red hair distinguished from the rest of his yellow body. "All I need right now...is a bed." "I know man, we'll get you someplace. How you feeling?" "My foot...practically gone from me for how I no longer feel it." "Aw don't worry we'll get it fixed come on a foot's not so bad. I mean compared to a leg or, yanno an arm, besides you can get a sweet peg leg, all the ladies'll love you." "Sszho what?" Baldwin said this leaning alongside Fayne on his own chocobo, the short-haired Luke also of red hair. "Doesszhn't change the fact they crippled my brother, basszhtardsszh I hope they rot in fucking-" "Baldwin." Fayne gently clasped his brother's fists which shook with resurgence of anger, sighing with grated voice as Fayne squeezed his grip tighter on his wrist. "I sszhould have broke that guard'sszh neck for what he did to you, fucking Archadian basszhtard if it hadn't been for him I-" "Baldwin, Baldwin calm down. Had you losszht your head back then, you could not have fought asszh well asszh you could have to protect me from that monsszhter in the abbey. Remember your training, a vengeful fisszht-" "Isszh nothing without a mind of clarity," said the monk finishing, "I know, don't have to tell me that." "I know." "They took your fuckin' foot bro...they do NOT, no one ever hurtsszh you again, I will KILL anyone who doesszh." "I KNOW, but you took their livesszh and not only that but you and all our friendsszh came and resszhcued me and Dahlia, be thankful that I only losszht a foot and not my life." "I-i am! But-" "Stop it." Dahlia said this last, walking alongside Navarro sullen with her head down. "Hasn't he gone through enough?" "Um...wh-what do you mean?" "Maybe you should stop thinking of how YOU feel and start thinking about your brother for once." "I have done NOTHING but care for my brother fer the lasszht fifty yearsszh!" "I thought your brother was almost sixty." "Sszho?!" "That's ten years unaccounted for, idiot." "OH I'M SSZHORRY, do YOU remember everything before you were ten yearsszh old, idiot?!" "W-well, somewhat-" "Jusszht becausszhe I can't remember anything before I turned sszheventeen doesszhn't mean nothing sszho-" "BALDWIN!" The bishop squeezed his wrist and made a pained wince from his foot throbbing to try and pull him away from arguing. "P-pleasszhe...don't fight, sszhe has sszhuffered too I do not want usszh to come to blowsszh, either of you." "Fine. But NOBODY tellsszh me that I do not care about you, ever." "And what of you Dahlia?" asked Navarro. "Are you alright? You have not spoken much since-" "I'm fine," said the nu-mou softly. "Fayne...suffered much worse." "That isszh not true," said Fayne. "You were a victim much like me, your pain I do not think any lesszh worthy, I may have been wounded in body...but I fear for your mind and sszhoul." "But...let's just find you a hospital, please." "Thank you." "I see you're not avoiding words so much," noted FG. "I am too tired to be eloquent...after the border crossszhing and that damned abbey right now I deeply desszhire a warm bed and sszhomething to help me sszhleep. I am only glad that my brother...and my friendsszh had come to aid me. Thank you, all of you." Baldwin reached out to patpat his brother on the shoulder gladly replying: "Anyone talk sszhit about you, I'll break 'em by Faram." "Hahahaha, like you did that gruesszhome rat?" "Totally! My fisszhtsszh are forever in your handsszh." "...I...but...pfffthehehehehahahaa!" For some reason Fayne found this funny as the pain throbbed less in that moment, the clan all smiling at each other except Navarro like always. Walking through the streets, which were surprisingly narrow for a port town by James' standards, they mixed between bangaa, seeq, the odd viera as well as multiple humes and moogles. Of special note were the fact he had seen more moogles in this place than anywhere else across Ivalice, as he wondered why throughout the cramped streets entering the Gallerina Marketplace.

The markets were but one single stretch of road chock-filled with carpets and tarpaulins to shade the vendors from the sun, selling everything from fruits to vegetables to fine shiny trinkets. The slow-winding road made them walk cautiously, not wanting to bump into anyone as they were forced along single-file to allow other workers to pass through, stacked full with crates and barrels between their strapping arms. The clan had to keep their chocobos close at hand in order to stop them from stealing anything, which naturally half of them failed to do. Lightning was far too well-trained, almost like a soldier to try and take anything striding forth like a knightly steed. Rinoa was fascinated with shinies as was Cadbury as the two gladly tried to pilfer small interesting trinkets from the various stalls with angry vendors demanding they be taken back, or else have to pay. They realised eventually they had to let their mounts have at least one shiny thing and so bought one each. Dahlia bought her mount a gorgeous little anklet said to raise one's spirit, whilst James bought Cadbury a black choker studded with spikes. He did also note there were such things as turtleshell chokers which greatly unnerved him as he quickly rode off away with his chocobo following, but not before taking a few extra things whilst he had the money for souvenirs. In particular he bought a tourmaline ring, an argyle armlet, and also a pack of playing cards with monster portraits and odd Ivalician numbers on each side of the portrait. Fayne and Baldwin managed to keep their mounts secure, but Luke was especially hungry so Baldwin decided to pay for some greens to give to him, sharing some with Asch. Eventually they found their way to the town centre, halfway up and halfway down the coastal cliffs as Navarro decided to come up with a plan. "The hospital is that way, kupo. James, perhaps it would be prudent for you to go look for an airship to guide us back to Rabanastre?" "Sounds good to me," said FG. "Alright what's the price limit?" "Woah woah woah," said Baldwin, "you trusszhting him to buy usszh a passzhage?! Did you not sszhee how much gil he sszhpent back there on sszhouvenirsszh?!" "That's why Navarro is the treasurer and not me. But seriously I know our mission and I do what I want with my share of the profit like you do. I don't think those condoms back at the checkpoint were part of our profits right?" "H-hey! Don't turn thisszh on me, leasszht I wear protecsszhion!" "Shut up," said Navarro, "James, you once told me you were on a ship in a previous life, kupo." "Yep," said FG. "Maybe six months or so on a galleon." "Then you'll know better than us on how to find a good ship. Here is my limit, this has twenty-five-thousand gil." She handed him a substantial sack of money carefully pocketed out as the raptor locked it safe inside his satchel. "Find us a ship with that money, remember to mention we are of five people and five chocobos, kupo." "Alright, no prob." "Good, we will be staying in port for a few days to help Fayne recover so let us know at the hospital if you find us a vessel. Good luck."

The four walked off as James with Cadbury walked down towards the docks, but not before Baldwin stopped short of everyone else and turned back towards FG awkwardly. He gently thumbed his hands trying to think on how to best begin with head slightly downwards. "I uh...didn't get the chansszhe before but...thank you for sszhaving my brother with me. I know you got problemsszh but-" "Baldwin." He looked up towards James' defiant look. "Firstly, I don't have problems, except with your opinion on me. Secondly, I'm clan leader, I don't leave my people behind." "Your...people?" "You know what I mean. Look, I know you and I have differences that we're never gonna agree on, but that doesn't mean I'm going to leave you or your brother behind out for dead, I'm not like that. When I said I was your leader I meant that, so whilst you're in my clan, I'll protect you best I can." "...th-thanksszh. Heh...that rhymed, yanno Fayne wasszh right, yer not sszho bad for um...um-" "Afflicted?" "...you sszhaid it not me, but really, if my brother trusszhtsszh you, then I trusszht you, that'sszh all I can sszhay. I better catch up, good luck out there bosszh, leasszht it'll be over sszhoon right, after we get back to Lea Monde?!" "Right...just for the record, I don't care about you saying the word 'molly', because that sounds kinda dumb to me so I'm not offended by that, I just really don't wanna hear the S-word or you saying about...stuff, alright?" "Oh...really? That'sszh...um...can I asszhk why?" "I just have bad memories with that word. I don't care if you call me a molly though, you kinda call everybody a molly anyway." "Ehhh." He shrugged somewhat timidly not making much of an effort. "Sszhure, whatever you sszhay...bosszh." With a shake of his head he watched Baldwin trot off, sighing with dissidence before making tracks down towards the docks. The streets finally widened out once they reached Saccio Lane which curled straight along the beach which was mainly barred for civilians. Both regular ships sat upon the shore and airships hovered gently at rest along the higher points where rocky steps past the beachline went upwards again. For the most part Cadbury behaved himself, despite close quarters to other people making him nervous as James pulled close on his reins. "Be cool." "Kweh?!" "What? You nervous? Never been up in the sky before, you're a bird for fuck's sake." "KWEH!" "Heh, sorry...wait why am I saying...never mind. You like your choker?" "Kweeeehhhh." James pointed at the new accessory as Cadbury preened himself gladly, looking cocky like the devil himself as he showed his neck off smugly. "Yeah yeah, see how smug you look once we get on a ship. Oh hey, scuse me, sir!" And so began the first of many failed conversations where James tried to haggle a good price for an airship passage through. But after six different crew members of various vessels told him no that 25,000 was far too low a price for them, as they tried to barter him up to 30,000 or even 40, he found himself starting to realise just how terrible he was with money. Heading up further along the shore, he walked straight upon the higher vista in front of the airship docks which was a circular white-chalk plateau, admiring the way the ships simply floated by magic.

One thing James found to be incredibly strange and anachronistic was the fact the old sailing ships were of a well-refined wood and extremely traditional, whilst the airships had a more sleek metallic design reminiscent of the Citadel's starships. Despite looking a lot bulkier and perhaps a lot slower by technology standards, they were strangely beautiful like large ungainly exotic birds simply roosting upon the docks. The metallic texture he could not tell what it was but there was a translucent quality about them, in various shades of red, blue, amber, emerald or even just greyish-white like marble. Even though they were only large enough to take 300 or more people, the fact they had the same hovering grace as the starships of the Citadel made him smile quite fondly. No matter where he went people always dreamed of sailing amongst the stars, the eternal dream of all species that looked up and wondered what laid long beyond their vision. The vista's plateau was large enough to organise a football game on, circumferenced by a small array of shops and bars that he decided to use his own money on as he stepped into one. Cadbury was hitched to a post outside next to a water trough where he drank from gladly, the only chocobo outside it which meant he took up all the space for himself eagerly as he slurped up every bit he could. The raptor stretched his arms slightly as he got out of the heat, slumping down at the bar which was a modest rectangular room of solid oak, five tables to his right half-full and the bar to his left. The bartender was a seeq, huge and slovenly-looking pig with scaled skin wearing nothing except pants underneath as James tried not to cringe. "Barkeep...I need something light, you got any cider?" "Sure do," said the seeq grunting, "wut's yer poison?" "Heh...what's the local favourite?" "Locals prefer Cerobi Cider, kinda earthy but got a sweetness to it." "I'll have that then." Tasting the first sip after paying for what appeared to be earth-coloured water, he drank down the surprisingly sweet but starchy drink, as if he were drinking a puree'd apple with alcohol but someone forgot to take the dirt off it. It was still a good taste, and he relished it on a hot day just to ease back as customers came and went, all of whom were sailors definitely. Halfway through his first drink however, he felt someone shout at him from behind. "KROOOOOW!" "...huh?" "KROW SSZZHHA' YOU!?" He turned round to see two bangaas, one of whom was green looking way too jovial and the other brown behind him with disapproving stare. The raptor replied with: "Um...I think you made a mistake." "YEAH!? Awwwwwww come on don' tell me you don' recognisszzhhhe me isszzhh yer buddy!" "Oka," said the brown bangaa, "it'sszh not him." "Whaaaa, yessszhhh it iiiissszzzzhhh...awwww...nooo you ssszzzhhhmell differen'-" "Come on buddy, you had enough." He escorted his friend out looking rather bashful before shoving him off back towards the dock, smiling awkwardly back at the raptor. "Hey um, sszhorry fer that." "Heh, s'alright." "He thought you were an ol' crewmate of hisszh." "That must be one ugly crewmate." "Hahaha, good, yeah um...uhhh what'sszh yer name?" "James, James Campbell." "Ahh...Tufa, Tufa Bolam." "Nice to meet you...say, um you wouldn't happen to-" "TUUUUFAAAA!" A voice cried out from the vista as the brown bangaa facepalmed. "WHAT!?" "I LOSSZZHHT THE HAAAAAT!" "WHAAAAT!? AWWW YOU CAN'T BE SSZHERIOUSSZH!" "M'SSSZZHHOOOOORRRYYYYY!" "Auuugh you-...I have to go." "What's wrong?" asked FG. "My dipsszhit friend losszht the captain'sszh hat, we were sszhupposszhed to take it to the tailor'sszh but now-aaagh...um, lisszhten, I'm sszhorry to asszhk but, if you find a black hat with a white sszhkull an' crosszhbonesszh on it, can you take it to dock number five, the Broken Petal?" "Sure no problem." "Thank you. WAIT UP OKA!" The bangaa dodged out of the pub looking rather worried as the raptor simply went back to his drinking, chuckling at such foolishness before he finished up his glass. He felt it was a bit too heavy to have another pint so he left whilst his mind was still capable before he noticed something odd about Cadbury. The chocobo was staring down at FG with a new accessory upon his head, a hat reminiscent of a pirate captain that matched his black coat. "...Cadbury." "Kweh?" "Why do you have a hat all of a sudden? Did you take it from someone?" "KWEH! Weh, reh!" "Okay okay, sorry, just you were a bit grabby back at the market so uh...hey...can I look?" The steed bowed his head looking a little insulted but allowing FG to take it off as he looked at the design. It was certainly a black hat, fitting for a captain with gold-tapered outline along the rim but something threw him off about its design. A white skull and crossbones, reptilian skull even clearly shown upon its curved front. It did not even have the typical tri-corner but rather just the front and back curved to resemble a taco. It looked somewhat familiar to him, disturbingly so as he struggled to think. "Is...what sort of hat is this, this doesn't look like a...bangaa skull, more like...what DOES this look like? Well this must be it, dumb shit must have dropped it outside the bar and not noticed you picking it up, let's go take this back." "Kweeeeh!"

Eager to get moving once more, Cadbury fluffed his wings and headed on towards the docks sitting on the other side of the vista. Dock number five showed a rather oddly small ship, a brigantine which to James was rather unusual not because it was entirely made of metal, but for the fact it looked very like a sailing ship. With two masts having their sails rather oddly placed, covering only the upper half rather than the entire mast's length, there also lied a back sail upon the rudder as well as three small triangular sails at the front of it. None of the other airships had sails on them, seemingly powered by engines within steel hulls. The sails themselves had an off-colour to them, not exactly pinkish but enough of a colouration to them to appear such around the fringes again obviously mimicking that of flower petals of a white rose blossom. The ship was a fine length of about 120 feet long, the size of a 13-story house laid flat upon the ground, the grand carving of its name in Ivalician scrawled upon the back in gilded gold and petal-like indentations. The ship itself was of amber and blood colours, pale yet fragrant as if trying to emulate the colour of rose petals whilst avoiding the obvious notion of pink. It appeared to be very light, and rather compact compared to most other vessels on the dock. The ship itself however more resembled the shape of a flattened wider variant of the old-fashioned sailing vessel, apart from the four giant jagged rings underneath the ship itself with large, two at the front and two at the back on top of each other. James saw the two bangaas standing upon the gangplank from the ship who then noticed him in turn as he waved back at them with hat in hand, the two nudging each other whilst whispering surreptitiously. "HEEEEY! I FOUND IT!" "AHHH THANK YE!" shouted the brown Tufa. "COME ON UP!" He bade Cadbury to wait at the dock as the raptor walked up the gangplank, a short distance of slatted wood that slided out from the ship itself. The ship was in fine shape, the front bow of the ship jutting far and away on his right, with the stern to his left showing both captain's cabin door and a steering wheel planted above it on a console on an elevated part of the ship. He readily handed back the hat as both bangaas refused politely with hand raised to him. "Oh no," said Tufa, "we don' wanna take the credit." "Huh?" "We think," added Oka, "that the captain hisszhelf would like to thank ye persszhonally." "Wait, captain?" "O CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN!" Almost as if he had summoned them, forty crewmembers had just appeared from every corner of the ship in various occupations. Sixteen bangaas, nu-mous and humes sweeping the deck with mops, nine hume cooks all of which were in white, six moogle gunners with smoked faces, a bearded hume holding a map, a nu-mou with a telescope and lastly seven bangaa riggers from high above. Much to James' horror and surprise, most of them began playing drums and stringed instruments from their work clothes whereas others spoke one line individually, as if about to burst into song. "The greatest captain you ever saw-" "-upon the high waves, he skims through the clouds!" "He dances through forever the breeze-" "-the broken petal!" "THAT'S WHAT THEY CALL MEEEEEEEE!" A shadow upon the crow's nest sung this with pride, whilst the rest joined in song. "OUR SAAAAVIOUR OF THE SEAAAAAA, SHINING ACROSS THE BREEZE, HOLD MEEEE TO THE REINS AS WE FLY FOOOREVER THROUGHOUT THE SKY!" "THE HERO OF THE KARMESAN RIFT, THE LEGENDARY, THE MASTER OF ALL, THE BROKEN PETAL DANCES WITH BLOOD, AND JOY IN HIS HEART, FOR EV-ER-Y SOUUUUUUUUUUUL!" The shadow sung once more with tenor. "Did you ever think that, I would have ever returned? Now I am but the last crewmember of, Gangplank Galleoooon!" The song suddenly picked up into a wild jig, the crew turning rampant with frenzy as drums beat harder and fiddles played faster. The shadow swept behind the ship's sails before sliding down the rigging halfway expertly. James watched with awe, the reptilian blur he now saw to be of brown skin as it grabbed a free swinging rope just in front of him hanging loose from the rig. As the song just ended, the lithe long shadow came fully formed out from the dark shadows of the longmast and somersaulted in midair, landing perfectly in front of James as every crew member sweeped perfectly with hands out towards him. Rose petals burst suddenly before his vision from the crew's hands as there now stood before him, with a swish and a flourish of both hands raised for applause, a brown scaled crocodilian beast with green buttoned cloak swishing softly in the breeze. Before James could even realise who it was, the captain offered one single glimmering hook hand whilst beaming a wide grin across his snout. "I'll be taking my hat back...little Rex." His eyes grew wide open as his mouth gasped silent, his old former shipmate and the last kremling that he ever saw now standing right in front of him. Kruz had come back to him.