Lightning shook out a small handful of nuts from her rations bag and knocked them back. Standing beside her, Firion gave his bag a woeful glance.

"They won't last the trip back," he said.

Lightning swallowed the mouthful and pocketed the rest. "We've worked on less before. Come on – that's Salamand just over the hill."

With a sigh, Firion ate his handful and followed behind her. "Maybe I'll finally find a use for this sleep spell."

It took almost two days to get to Salamand, and when they first set eyes on the snow-strewn town, it looked like a white blanket had settled over the streets and shops. Given the time of year, she shouldn't have expected anything different, though it still looked strange after all the time she spent down south.

Throwing her hood over her head, Lightning pushed forward. Sleep was scarce over the last couple of days, but she'd had enough time to restore her spells and most of her mana. She could only hope the hunger wouldn't lead to blackouts this time – three days without anything but meager rations didn't make for good sleep or stamina.

"If our source is wrong," Lightning whispered to Firion as a couple of young maidens walked by, drawing his attention, "then I'm blaming this on you."

Firion snapped back to attention and shook his head. "It's not wrong. That mage has been our ally since before the war."

"Loyalty is cheap."

"Not in our circles. Those who swear to the Queen tend to stay sworn."

Lightning resisted the urge to rub her temples. "Let's check the tavern. I need a drink and we're bound to find rumors in there."

Firion followed her into the Fluting Chocobo, a small inn in the center of town. It looked remarkably intact and even inviting, with a couple of tables to the sides and one long bar in the center. The air smelled heavily of smoke, thanks to the fireplace burning away in the far corner. The occupants hugged that part of the room, though there was only a handful of them – the low-lying sun made it a little early for most to hit the tavern, though that wouldn't stop the veterans from getting their daily shot of gysahl wine. The fumes emitted from the alcohol left a faint taste of seed in her mouth.

At Lightning and Firion's entrance, most inside turned away and hid their faces, huddling further inside their coats. The barkeep visibly deflated at the sight as well, though he had a little more class to keep working as normal.

Lightning took a seat at the bar, though Firion remained standing, hands hovering at the handle of his sword.

"Something happen here, barkeep?" Lightning asked, gesturing to the antisocial patrons.

The man silently worked his mouth for a moment before placing a mug in front of her. "Depends. You Hilda's dogs?"

"Not dogs," Firion said. "Just concerned neighbors."

"So say they all," huffed the barkeep and he pulled out a bottle of white alcohol that Lightning didn't recognize. "You two wanting a drink?"

Lightning gestured. "Something low-drawn for me."

"No thanks," Firion said.

The barkeep shook his head, shelving the bottle and placing a mug under a large keg. "Don't talk to me about the nature of this town," he said, voice hushed. "I can't answer questions like that. But I'll send you to someone that can. Just don't let anyone think I'm involved, right?"

Lightning exchanged a look with Firion, whose face shadowed at the barkeep's words. "Of course not." She accepted the mug of Phoenixale and took a swig. It warmed her chest and she felt the trickle of it down toward her stomach. Some energy returned with the drink.

"There's another traveler like yourselves," the man said, "only unaffiliated. Far as I know, she's completely disconnected from the power struggle between your queen and the local leaders."

"She?" Lightning repeated.

The barkeep scoffed. "What? Girl can't get involved in the war, around here? It's only allowed in Altair?"

Firion, thankfully, kept his mouth shut, and gave Lightning the time she needed to respond carefully. "It's not something I expected around these parts," she said. "Got a name?"

The barkeep glanced about them and leaned in. "No name, but she's staying in this very tavern. Upstairs, room on the far end to the left. No mention of me, remember."

"Right." Lightning finished the drink in a few large gulps and slapped her coins on the table. "Thanks, 'keep."

The other residents shuffled as Lightning stood and she gestured for Firion to come closer. "Staying in at this time of day," she whispered. "That's a little suspicious."

"Could be tired." He looked about them. "We don't know when she got in."

"Then how would she know anything?"

They climbed the stairs into a narrow hallway with rough doors lining aged walls. The colors matched the room downstairs, with cheap oranges staining the wood and fading near the floor.

Lightning knocked on the door at the end and handled the hilt of her sword. Best to be on guard when entering someone else's turf.

The door opened to reveal a dark-haired, tanned, and well-rounded woman in a small yellow dress, barely an adult going by her features. Her eyes widened at the sight of them and she glanced inside her room as a boy's voice chimed, "Who is it?"

"I don't know," said the girl. She turned to them again. "Who is it?"

"Claire," said Lightning, "and Frioniel from Altair. We were told you might know about what's happened around here in the last few days."

"Ah," came the boy's voice again, taking on a singsong tone. A gangly yet well-fed, fair-haired kid came their way, wearing roughened traveling clothes. He smiled and said, "But what could we possibly know? We're just two weary travelers, trying to catch a break." He drew up short when he saw Lightning. "Oh, you're a g-…" He blinked. "Good looking one!"

They both spoke different accents, both foreign and distinct. The girl's voice pitched on the consonants and the man pronounced his Rs oddly. Lightning narrowed her eyes. "No traveler looks as clean and full as you. Where are you two from?"

"That's a bit of a long story," said the girl with an apologetic smile. Lightning could swear she smelled summer rain on the two despite the winter. "I can tell you about the local politics, though. How about, um, we take a seat outside?"

"I don't think that would be wise," Firion said. "It seems that ears around this place have teeth."

The girl looked between them and the room and sighed before letting them in.

The room was a modest one, as was common in backwater towns such as this. Only two beds, each barely big enough for one person, sat in a line on one side of the room while a wash basin took one of the other corners. Strange equipment was scattered about the place, including metal poles and shining string that crisscrossed about like some midwife's invasion trap.

"That was easy," said the blond guy, falling back onto one of the small beds. With four of them in the room, there wasn't much else to sit. "We were just looking for some local heroes to deal with this place!"

Lightning narrowed her eyes and squeezed into a corner to lean against the wall. "What?"

"There's been some home invasions," said the girl, sinking into the other bed. "And some murders. Innocents found dead with floating crystal fragments about their bodies."

"This started when?" Firion asked.

"I thought it might have been after the takeover." The girl shook her head. "But apparently the power struggle's been going on for much longer than a few days. Could have been the Fafses family, could have been their previous competitor."

"The who?" Lightning asked.

"The new gang in charge," said the boy. "Not much gets past them it seems – all these victims did was cross their path somehow and they got their lives taken for it."

"Wait," Firion said, "there hasn't been any invasion within the last few days?"

"Invasion, no," said the girl. "Takeover, yes. I suspect the fractured states have been too busy keeping power in their hometowns to worry about extending their reach to other regions."

"They've got bigger fish to fry," Lightning muttered, casting Firion a glance that she hoped spelled out, I told you so. "Wonderful."

"I'm Jack, by the way." The boy gestured. "And this is Selphie. What did you say your names were?"

"Claire," Lightning said. "And Frioniel."

The boy raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Interesting."

"What is?"

He waved a hand. "I just know someone with a similar name. Anyway, the murders are pretty weird. There's a chance they're being framed on the resident gang family, but it seems like a bit much work for such a small town."

"Salamand is a nice place," Selphie said, "but there isn't much here for them to steal. Unless they love ice, I guess."

"I certainly do," Jack said. "If I lived here, I'd have iced tea for the rest of my life!"

"Tea," Lightning repeated.

"I've never heard of ice with tea," Firion said.

"Who does that?" Selphie asked, giving him a disgusted look. "Cold tea?"

Jack looked between them. "What? You like scalding your tongue?"

"You don't scald your tongue," Selphie said, "you drink it slowly!"

"Tea," Lightning repeated. How could they talk so lightly about this?

Firion's lips pulled into a lopsided smile. "Not everyone hates it," he told her.

"I know." She folded her arms, looking between Jack and Selphie. "Can we move on? Where did these murders occur?"

"Everywhere," Selphie said. "There's been seven in total, with one being found by the lake and most others scattered across the town. Magic seems involved with each of them, though."

"Evidenced by the markings," Lightning said.

"Yup," said Jack. Lightning could swear she glimpsed an orange-ish glow to his skin. "Though it doesn't explain the soul fragments. What do you want to know this for, anyway? Goodwill like we hoped?"

"Yes," said Firion. "That's our whole job."

"If you want to contact the family," said Selphie, "that would great! We're a little behind schedule, so we should be going."

Lightning scowled. "Why can't you two deal with this?"

"Busy." Jack waved a hand.

Selphie wrote something on a small paper. "Try to get him at night – that's when he's easiest to reach."

"We need to talk to the family in charge, anyway," Firion said.

"Great!" Selphie slapped the paper into Lightning's hand and pushed her toward the door. "Thanks for stopping by!"

Lightning paused just outside and traded a look with Firion when the door shut. He looked as confused as her. "That was something, wasn't it, Light?"

And for a moment, the scene about her changed. Firion's image shifted to look like that of a child, wearing orange and green clothing and fidgeting with his fingers across his stomach.

Lightning wrenched herself back to the moment and snapped, "I told you to stop calling me that."

"Right." They made for the exit. "Wonder how far we can trust them."

"I'd say not far." Lightning thought of all the strange equipment they had in their room. "I don't know if they even belong in this world."

Firion chuckled. "Maybe not. But we haven't found any evidence to point to another land lying across the sea, so that would be kind of difficult."

"Maybe."

Outside, the low sun sunk far enough that the light faded almost completely from the horizon.

"We'll need to camp here for the night," Firion said with a glance to the tavern. "Should we worry about that after or before we investigate this guy?"

"After." Lightning moved on toward the location drawn crudely on Selphie's paper. "We need to stay focused."

The town hall here, which was barely more than a commoner's house, stood close to the edge of town with a dozen body guards ambling about in tough leather jerkins. Lightning could tell from the inconsistent cut of their clothes that they hadn't come by those through the day market, though the falling darkness made it difficult to make out many details.

"They're not going to respond well to officials," Firion said with a frown.

"Because we're not official," Lightning said. "Not to them. They care more about those with money and brute force. Come on – we're losing the light."

"Hey!" shouted one of the guards at their approach. "What are you doing here?"

"We're here to talk to your leader," Lightning said, stalking forward while Firion hung back a ways. "Are you going to stop us?"

"Of course, we are!" The guard's friends gathered about him. "Ain't nobody talk to the bosses without a personal invitation!"

"Great," Lightning said, pulling out a small paper holding the runes of a channeling spell. "Not gonna go quietly, then." She shuddered at the paper in her hands and her stomach rumbled.

The guards all pulled their makeshift weapons of spears and hatchets – not a single, respectable sword or axe among them – and Lightning ate the channel spell.

Paper dissolved in her mouth and left an aftertaste akin to cold wood.

Firion leaped in close to her and tossed throwing knives that embedded themselves in the knees of half of the guards.

Those guys dropped, and Lightning threw up a wall of ice to block herself and Firion off from the rest of them. Hilda preferred as few casualties as possible.

They strolled inside as the guards shouted and tried to scale the ice. Lightning ignored them, though Firion remained tense, with his buckler out and fingers balled into fists.

Only a handful more goons met them inside, and Firion easily dispatched them with blows to the stomach and feet. Nothing that they couldn't recover from in the next week or so, though Lightning didn't think they should be so lucky.

Her stomach growled again and Firion cast her a sympathetic look. She shot a glare back. The fatigue would return in a moment and they had to keep moving while she could walk.

With the guards unconscious, they made their way inside. Laughter floated their way, laced with boisterous barks. Seductive giggles mixed with low whispers that Lightning couldn't understand.

They followed the sound to a small, dank room of people playing cards at a rough and worn table. And found two women and three men in nightwear. They chewed on faeseed and joked among themselves like they had no cares to give.

Lightning cleared her throat to catch their attention and placed a hand on her hip. "Hey. You in charge around here?"

They all swore and sprung to their feet, save for the guy in the middle of the table, who looked up at them with intrigue. "Depends who's asking."

"What did you do to the others?" demanded one of the men.

"They'll be fine," Firion said. "I would worry more about yourself, honestly."

"You've been killing people around here," Lightning said. "Why?"

The leader popped another seed in his mouth. "Who says it was me?"

"I do."

The guy leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. "You're wrong, miss."

"Am I?"

"Yeah, it was someone else." The man tilted his head back. "Ulis!"

A faint grunt sounded from outside in response and the man sighed. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't incapacitate all my people."

"What do you expect us to do?" Firion asked. "Let them kill us instead?"

"I expect you to respect another man's property. Most don't go barging in someone's home and accusing them of murder."

"Most people don't have reason to be accused," Lightning said, fighting the bile in her throat that rose at speaking with this man.

"Oh, I see how it is." The guy stood and cracked his knuckles. "I suppose I'm supposed to take that as a compliment."

Lightning made a show of weighing the idea before pulling out her sword. "Only if you revel in bloodshed."

"I already said it wasn't me." The guy stood and fell into a sloppy fighting stance. She suspected no one around here had ever even heard of formal training, and she could use that to her advantage. "Pretty sure it was that blue-dressed newcomer, actually. Something wrong with that chick."

"Uh huh." Lightning yanked her sword free of its sheath and channeled more ice into the ground, startling the men clear of her vicinity. "I don't believe you."

Firion jumped in with a throw of his buckler and stabbed one guy in the foot. Lightning blasted her barrier of ice, sending small splinters flying out each direction.

The men reacted with surprising agility. One of them overthrew the table, creating a shield against the blast of ice while another pulled their coat over themselves. The leader lunged through the storm of splinters and tackled Firion while one of the others took the opening to attack Lightning.

She used her sword to block the man and he retaliated with a blast of wind that yanked Lightning's feet out from under her.

They knew magic – they had to be the murderers.

Lightning scrambled to get back to her feet, but another body jumped her from behind and knocked her to the ground.

"Just like royalty," muttered the other thug as he pulled a knife, "to interfere so needlessly."

Lightning growled and rolled, flipping her assailant onto his back. She shot to her feet and kicked him into the ground.

The one with the knife took that as a sign to bear down on her, but Lightning was faster.

She slipped out of their reach just in time for knife-guy to slash the air where she would have been. The other guy rushed her, throwing a punch that connected with her face.

The telling crack in her nose sent a wave of blinding pain through her skull, so Lightning dropped another barrier before she paused to blink spots out of her eyes.

The moment lasted for only a second as the same guy that cast the wind spell chomped another piece of paper that dissolved into red light and he blasted the area with a fire spell that shattered the ice and sent a wave of heat up Lightning's back.

Lightning burst forward as the fire died down, the remainder of it singing her clothes. She cut through with a cry, piercing one guy through the heart and kicking the other away.

Beside her, Firion hunched forward as he fought the leader, the former's limbs smeared with blood and eyes frantic.

Lightning yanked a cure spell from her pack and consumed it before sending a bolt of healing energy through her system. The pain of the burns evaporated.

The living goon jumped her again, but Lightning kneed him in the crotch and sent him tumbling to the ground in a moaning heap. "Best not push your luck," she told him.

Lightning looked to see Firion drag the leader, bruised and bloody, to his feet.

"We need answers," Lightning repeated, joining them. "And we're not afraid to extract them."

The leader didn't look her way – he kept his eyes riveted on Firion, who showed little emotion at the pitiful figure he gripped with one hand. Instead, a bloodlust showed in the wild motion of his eyes.

"You'd be idiots to force us out," hissed the leader. "You want stability? You'll get it through not provoking further upset among us lowly folk."

"Not provoking you?" Firion repeated and slammed the guy against the wall. "What is it you think you're doing here?"

The leader spat blood in Firion's face. "Our methods may be beneath you all, but at least we're providing order where there is none."

"You're sowing chaos." Firion leaned in. "These people aren't sheep to be herded! They need new, safe lives after all they've been through with Mateus!"

"Well, now." The leader forced himself to stand straight despite the visible pain it caused him. "If you're so insistent, perhaps you should speak with the big guy."

"Who?" Lightning asked, stepping closer. "Are you saying you report to someone?"

The guy's lips curled in disdain at the sight of her. "Not report. Ain't nobody above us. No, he's more of a supplier. One of those that offers one thing for another, you know."

Firion slammed him again. "Stop dancing around the answer!"

Lightning blinked. She should have gotten used to his temperamental nature in battle, but the quick changes still left her feeling like she worked with a completely different person than the one that spoke with her outside.

The leader now trembled under Firion's grip. "Oi! Don't kill me!"

Firion ripped a spell from his bag and consumed it. "Give us a name and I'll heal your broken bones."

"Leon." The guy swallowed hard. "Leon of Fynn. … He's gonna kill me, ain't he?"

"Leon?" Lightning repeated. "Maria's brother?"

Firion threw the man to the ground and kicked out his leg before using the cure on himself. "Yeah. Aria wouldn't like this."

"You mean Maria?"

Firion looked her way and blinked, the fierce hunger in his eyes fading. "Maria. Yeah."

"We shouldn't believe him off-hand." Lightning gestured for Firion to follow her outside. "Forcing answers like that has gotten us turned around more than once."

"Then we'll let Hilda know he was under stress. But that's the first real lead we've found in months."

Lightning sighed. The ice they left outside remained pointed and strong in the cold temperatures here. Unless someone took the time to break it down later, they would have a small hallway outside the building for a while.

"Before we go," she said, angling toward the tavern again, "I'm gonna get a drink."