Draco: Okay, Wikia is getting a lot of BS so I'm going to say this right now at risk of spoilers, this will end up following the false ending. I had no intention of trying to tie this to the canon ending, that's just not gonna work.

I tried to call this one "Daggers and Darknesses", but I still hold that 'darknesses' doesn't look like a word somebody as elaborate as Xehanort should be using.

Bravely Default and all related properties © Square Enix

Harena Region: Daggers and Darkness

Til was up the next morning before Olivia was. Taking note of the early hour, he decided it best to let her sleep; he was, however, soaked in sweat. The walls of buildings in Ancheim were built thin, but without a breeze to chill the city, the heat was intense. Why do they even have blankets at the inn? The question rose in Til's mind as he wiped his brow on one, having cast it aside overnight. After a moment, he reached for his waterskin, thinking a drink would help.

He had four on him, and three were empty; the last was full of his Norende blended fruit juice, which he knew was suited to relieve exhaustion, not heat.

A sigh emerged from him as he picked up the skins. "I think... there was a well just past the palace," he murmured to himself, preparing himself to go. Remembering the unkind looks he had received the previous day, he contemplated using Heinkel's asterisk; but then he remembered the mass of steel armour that had adorned the Sky Knights' captain, and decided he'd stick with Barras' stone - though he kept Edea's katana on him regardless.

On his way through town, he found multiple people who looked exhausted and/or parched. When he tried to approach them, however, they only motioned for him to leave them alone - and this concerned him. The well wasn't all too impressive-looking, and was standing next to a simple structure that seemed to clatter with clockwork. Warily, Til made his way inside, finding it to be a rather simple structure - a walkway leading to a desk, with a series of gears turning slowly below. "Hello?" he asked. "Is anyone here?"

"I am sorry, but I must be going!" The thickly-accented voice seemed to be coming from a back room. "Please, pass my message along and ensure zat you are not followed. You will be paid if and when you return successfully." A door that Til had not noticed until now was pulled open, and a figure stepped out - a fairly short, particularly rotund figure in dark, formal clothing. Perched on his head was a tall top hat, danging around his neck was what looked like a pocketwatch, and he had a small stick in hand; it looked to be a walking staff, except he held it like a weapon.

Everything about him screamed "money". Til figured he needed something to defend his wealth.

Upon taking sight of the child, the man perked up. "Ahh, good day!" he called, stepping behind his desk as Til approached it. "I believe zis is our first meeting, yes?" Bowing politely, he introduced himself; "Erutus Profiteur, chairman of ze Khamer & Profiteur Merchantry, at your service."

"Profiteer?" Til asked incredulously.

"Profiteur," the man replied.

"Prof..." Til shook his head. "Can I just call you the chairman?"

'The chairman' laughed at that. "You are not ze first to mispronounce eizer name. Call us 'K&P' if you need use ze name in ze future. Now, what is it you are needing today? We are ze only purveyor of water licensed by ze king himself, and we take pride in our product. No effort is spared in providing ze cleanest, freshest water possible. Ze results are clear..." Another laugh, and this time Til chuckled alongside.

"Water puns," he observed. "So, that is your well outside? he asked, beckoning towards the door. "I saw it was close to the building, and I wasn't sure if there was some kind of... formality I had to go through before I got water from it."

"Oh, you needn't worry," Profiteur insisted. "You are quite ze early riser, no? You must have come in ze middle of ze changing of shifts. We usually have a man on guard at ze well, but with two shifts - one at night, one during ze day. I imagine ze day shift will have arrived by now."

Til nodded. "Alright. Thank you, Mr. Chairman."

The chairman bowed kindly. "Have a refreshing day!" he bid the young Norende boy; Til only chuckled again.

Lightly, he stepped outside, reaching for his waterskins. There was in fact a man there; a suspicious man, with a sharp scimitar at his side and his face obscured by a cowl. When he saw Til stepping towards the well, he reached for his blade. "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting water," Til insisted. "I just spoke with the chairman."

The man huffed. "I take it you've got your coin on you?" he asked.

That caught Til off-guard. "Coin!?" he demanded. "For water?"

An irritable sigh emerged from the man as he leaned his head back. "Oh, for the love of- You're not from around here, are you? Withdrawls from this well are strictly prohibited without authorization from the Khamer & Profiteur Merchantry."

"What do you mean 'withdrawls'?" Til protested, realizing that it was thirst, not tire, that had plagued the people he had passed. "There are people going thirsty!"

"There are peasants going thirsty!" the man countered. "Do you have your coin or not?"

Til growled lightly; but the heat was starting to catch up to him now that he had been moving, and he was in no condition to argue. "Do you provide a container, or do I?"

"If you're just getting a drink and going, we've got cups," the man elaborated, "but if you've got a waterskin you want to fill, you can bring it."

"Alright," Til mused, drawing out his skin. "How much to fill this?"

The man held out his hand for it; when Til handed it to him, he seemed to weigh it in his hand for a moment, judging the thickness of the build. "Shouldn't take more than two pumps, I reckon," he mused. "That'll be five thousand pg."

Til wanted to vomit upon hearing that. "Five thous- Two pumps? That's streetside robbery!"

"That's the price, kid!" the man snapped. "If you want a free drink so badly, you can go join the other rabble at the oasis west of the city!"

"Fine, I will!" Til snapped back. "Crook."

"Brat."

Without thinking to alert Olivia, Til took off out of Ancheim.

+x+x+x+

He left at an opportune time. Like the watch for the merchantry's well, the monsters were gratefully absent as Til made his way to the oasis. He was relieved to not find anyone there; his mood was hardly appreciable to those who would question a kid on his own.

His feet met the edge of the water's rise, and were greeted by a pleasant cool - the body of water was too great to be heated in the same fashion as the water. Til made his way around the oasis' edge until he found a point that dropped off steep enough that he could sink a skin in; once he had found it, he reached down and cupped his hand, drawing out water and raising it to his mouth.

"Good, it's fresh," he sighed, relieved to let the water calm his throat.

"Hey, kid!"

Til's expression darkened as he turned. A suspicious figure was approaching him - dark grey garments with a hood and no sleeves, a knife clipped on the back of his belt. Slowly, the Norende boy rose to his feet, glaring at the newcomer until he stopped a few paces away. He looked about the same age as Tiz, with his features drawn tight from constant scowling.

"Can I help you?" Til asked.

"What are you doing here, kid?" the scowler asked.

Til raised his waterskin. "I'm getting water," he replied. "Is it so weird to see a kid getting water?"

A moment's quiet, their glares locked.

The newcomer shrugged, turning towards the water's edge. "Nah," he insisted, "not all too strange. I'm takin' care of a couple kids about your age. Just didn't expect you to be on your own."

"A friend of mine is in Ancheim," he insisted, "but we're running low on water. She was busy, so I came out here."

"Woman stuff?"

Til shook his head. "No, she... one of her friends died recently, and the king was confronting her about it. I woke up early, but I figured I'd let her sleep in."

"Sleeping ain't busy, kid," the hooded boy insisted. Glancing at Til again, he asked, "You're not from around Harena, are ya?"

"What gave it away?" Til mused, kneeling down again and sinking his skin into the water, letting the chill liquid surround his hand.

"Your clothes," the older boy replied. "Everyone in Ancheim is wrapped in a dozen layers."

Til neglected to mention his asterisk. "Layers?" he asked. "Wouldn't that just make things hotter?"

"It's that, or get fired up, kid," was the response. "Naked skin is just gonna burn. A lot of layers of bright white clothes help stop the sun - even if they end up making you sweat. Moreso in the weather we've had recently. Without the wind, everything's a dozen times hotter." He reached for his neck. "I've got daggers in my throat just talking about it."

"Just take a drink," Til replied. "Or... is it you're sick?"

"Excuse me?"

Now Til got to his feet. "I had a brother, Tiz. You look about his age. He got really sick once, but we didn't realize it until it got really bad. He said it was like knives in his throat, like he was thirsty, but a drink didn't help. I mean, it helped a little bit, but only for a couple seconds."

The boy in the hood glanced down at the water. "How long did it take before it got really bad?"

"A week, I think?" Til murmured. "Maybe two... no, just a week."

A laugh that sounded almost relieved. "Nah, I ain't sick," the older boy insisted. "I've been feeling like this most of my life. It happens the longer you live in the desert."

Til shrugged, hooking his waterskin on his belt; after a moment's pause, he grabbed the skin full of his Norende blend. "Here, try some of this," he insisted, holding it out.

The older boy glanced at it. "What's that?"

"Fruit juice," Til replied. "Shepherds in Norende always keep one handy. It's more for when you're tired out than when you're hot. Tiz had some after the sickness got bad, and he said it really helped with the throat-knives thing." As the older boy accepted it, he added, "You know what, take it with you. You said there are other kids you're taking care of, right? Let them have some, they'll love you for it."

The boy looked surprised at that. "Are you serious?"

"I know how to make more," he insisted. "The fruits grow in Caldisla, though, so even if I told you it wouldn't be much use."

He reached for another waterskin and lowered it to the water. The older boy glanced at the skin in his hands; then he set it down next to Til. "I'm good," he insisted. "Something that sweet is just gonna make me want more."

Til shrugged, hooking it back on his belt. "So what are you doing around here?" he asked. "You don't have a waterskin of your own?"

"That's not it," the boy insisted. "I stick around here a lot."

"Doing what?"

"I'm waiting for someone."

"Someone... as in, someone specific, or just anyone who shows up?"

A pause; "Ah... I was told... there was a group who wanted to poison the oasis. I kinda just do laps around here, waiting for anyone who looks suspicious."

"Poison...?" Now Til got to his feet, his skin half-full. "Who would put poison in it? I mean, how is that useful for anyone? They wouldn't get anything out of it."

"Kid, let me tell you something," the older boy insisted.

"Til."

"Excuse me?!"

"My name is Til."

A chuckle. "My bad," the older boy replied. "I thought you were calling me something." His faint smile fell. "Til, listen here. Poison isn't anything you use when you want to get something. You use it when you want to stop someone else from getting something. They got a special place in hell for the kind of people who use poison. Their hearts are black, like a dying fireplace."

Til glanced at him. "You're not one of those people," he observed. "You're guarding the oasis - you're like... the exact opposite."

The older boy looked uncomfortable. "...Actually, I'm not doin' it myself," he admitted. "I got hired to do it. I'm employed by the Khamer & Profiteur Merchantry."

Til hooked his waterskin on his belt. "Merchantry... So, you work for the fat guy with the pocketwatch on his neck?"

"And the dorky hat on his head," the boy chuckled. Holding a hand over his head; "Like, yea tall."

"With a brim like this," Til observed, forming a ring with his fingers and setting it on his head; the circle could sit flat on his head.

"Talks like zis," the older boy added, briefly mimicking the chairman's accent.

"And making lame water puns," Til finished.

"That's him."

Til's hand flew into his pocket, drawing out Heinkel's asterisk, and he slammed his hand into the gold portion. The light encompassed him, as it had with Olivia, and the moment the world was blinded he switched it to his empty hand and drew Edea's katana.

As soon as the light faded, he set the stone into a pouch hooked at his waist, and raised the katana threateningly.

The boy in the hood narrowed his eyes. "I get the feeling you didn't come out here for water first," he mused. His left hand found his knife, drawing it in such a way that it spiralled in the air before him before he gripped it in his right hand and took a fighting stance, hopping back until he was ten paces away.

"Five. Thousand. Pg," Til snapped. "That's how much it costs to fill a waterskin in Ancheim, out of a K&P well. You know how much it costs to fill a skin in Norende? In Caldisla? It doesn't cost anything! Water, food, and air - the three things necessary to live a human life, and that profiteer-!"

"Profiteur," the hooded boy corrected.

"Profiteer!" Til shouted. "Is bleeding people dry for what is most needed in such a merciless land! He's not a merchant! He's a crook!"

Now the Norende boy grabbed the katana in both hands. "And you're working for him. Which means you didn't get paid to guard it just 'cause it needed guarding. The merchantry wants something out of this oasis, doesn't it?"

The hooded boy shook his head. "You've been through too much for your age, kid," he insisted. "And now you think everyone else a fool. You poisoned that drink you offered me, didn't you?!"

"You're the one who said poison is for blackhearts!" Til protested.

"I went at it a roundabout way!" the knife wielder snapped. "I didn't feel right calling a kid like you a no-good bastard!"

"I didn't poison the drink," Til insisted. "I don't even know where to get poison, or how to make it. What are you doing, guarding this oasis?"

The hooded boy sighed, turning away.

The moment his foot hit the ground, he stepped to the side and leapt into the air, his body moving so fast it seemed to blur before he shot forward.

"Screw you, kid!"

Til raised the katana to guard himself, not seeing the spark of magic between him and the hooded boy until it had become a burst of flame.

The knife-fighter screeched, tumbling to the floor and veering into the water. He fell to his knees in the water, and Til glanced around until he caught sight of a familiar figure in black robes, with a buckler and casting rod in hand

"Olivia!"

"Til, what are you doing here?" the vestal shouted, stepping towards him.

"We were out of water," Til insisted. "The well costs 5000."

The hooded boy growled, pulling himself to his feet. "What's this, then?" he mused. "You must be the girl he was talking about." Looking Olivia up and down; "Yeah... you look like someone Old Man Tick-Tock would want to use."

Olivia braced her buckler before her. "Excuse me?"

"Not like that," the boy insisted. Then, to Til; "Let me make this clear, kid. You ain't cut out for this kinda stuff. Dealing with thieves. With Khamer and Profiteur. You're in over your head. I don't know how you got here from Caldisla, but I will say you damn well better head back if you know what's good for you."

"I have business in Harena," Til snapped.

"Then go about your business," the hooded boy replied. "And don't get in the way of mine."

Here he turned on his heel, taking off westerly.

"Wait!" Til shouted, stepping forward.

Olivia grabbed his arm. "Til, don't!" she insisted. "We can't get involved in this."

Til groaned, sliding the katana into its sheath before reaching into the pouch with the asterisks. He found Barras' for too long and switched into it. "Something about that guy really gets on my nerves."

"He must have his reasons," she insisted. "We must leave him be."

+x+x+x+

Olivia led Til and Airy to the Temple of Wind.

She was not anticipating the hellious darkness inside.

Passing through the temple entrance, she nearly collided with the air, there was such stagnancy to it. The crystal temple ought have been filled with air that moved gently, comparable to a flowing stream; this air was so still and stale that she would think it rotting. Horrified, she fell to her knees, prompting Til to rush up to her side in a panic. "Olivia?" he pleaded, setting a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"This..." Olivia drew in a shaky breath. "This... is not... right..."

"Who's there?"

The voice caused Olivia to raise her gaze. Her eyes had yet to adjust to the darkness of the temple, but she made out the familiar shape of crystal acolytes, clad in habits. In their hands were tall staves tipped with candles, all of which were burned nearly to their bases. Til's hand went for Edea's katana, but Olivia's hand caught his wrist before he could draw it. Her gaze was on the floor, but slowly, she raised her gaze to the acolytes.

"I am Olivia Oblige," she murmured. "Vestal of Water."

The acolytes exchanged panicked glances; then they stepped towards her, helping her to her feet. "What has happened to you?" one of them asked. "And... where is Lady Agnès?"

"Dead."

The words were forced out of her mouth with much less difficult than with her conversation with the king. The acolytes all pulled away, but Olivia maintained her ground. "The duchy of Eternia sent a legion flying a bloody rose to attack me, the day after we became vestals in full. I have been on the run nearly since I left this temple. When Agnès came to Florem to visit me, the crystal was consumed in darkness. She wandered to the Crystalist refuge while she was not of her right mind, and so did not notice her pursuers - one of whom made to slay us both, though she took the blow for herself."

Her eyes were beginning to make out the temple, and she could see breakage and ruin abound. "The Wind Crystal, too, has gone dark. Has it not?"

The acolytes nodded collectively, quiet and fearful.

"I thought as much," she murmured. "The windless desert, the still air here... " Glancing down at herself, she asked of the women around her; "My vestal garb was ruined in Florem. Where is hers?"

"The dark beat us to it," one of the acolytes replied, fearful. "It put ruin to this temple, and we were fortunate to have escaped. The dining hall, the room of scriptures, the reliquary... all of it has been torn apart. The vestal garb stored there is in tatters."

A sound emerged from Olivia, something between a gasp and a scoff at her own inability to do anything. "Then... the temple will remain dark..."

Til coughed lightly to gather their attention. "What is this... vestal garb... needed for?" he asked.

"It is the conduit that allows a vestal's prayers to reach the crystal in full," Olivia explained. "With the crystals dark, a prayer without the proper vestments will never pierce the shadows that hide its light."

"And both yours and Agnès' are wrecked..." Til tapped the katana's handle. "What if you got a new one?"

One of the acolytes snickered lightly at his assumption, only to be silenced with glares from her peers.

"The sacred vestments are not so easily replaced," another woman explained. "Not everyone can weave vestal garb."

"Is there anyone who can do it?" Til asked.

Silence befell the gathering.

Olivia was the one who broke it, raising her head with a gasp. "Yes," she exclaimed. "There is!"

Til blinked. "Wow," he murmured. "Really? I wasn't sure that would work."

"The old sage of Yulyana Woods," she murmured. "He's been tending to Crystalist ceremonies for ages upon ages, providing the tools necessary to complete them. If there is anyone capable, it will be him." Her smile fell. "I met him only once, as a child with the mother vestal of this temple. I remember he was aged then, I'm not certain..."

The boy cut her off. "Don't even go there yet," he insisted. "The old shepherds in Norende had beards so long Tiz didn't know how they were alive when all they did was sit in the inn's tavern drinking." He snapped his fingers. "Yulyana Woods... is that the forest I saw past the desert?"

Olivia turned to him. "Did you?" she asked. "I didn't notice."

"Flying that airship is so complicated I'm kind of surprised you noticed when we almost crashed," Til admitted. "I saw a lake, it looked big enough that we can put the ship in there. If it's not, we can always drop the anchor in the water near the shore and climb down."

The water vestal paled at that.

Til shrugged. "Let's hope we don't have to," he admitted. Turning to the acolytes; "Can you guys take care of this place until we get back?" he asked.

"Of course," one of the women assured him. "We will see to it that crystal does not grow any darker."

"Alright," Til mused. "Let's go."

He started out the door.

The acolytes exchanged worried glances. "A child so young," one murmured, "giving such orders..."

"A dead village, and he was left the only one to care for it," Olivia explained. "He is taking a role for which he is not ready. I hope only nothing happens to break his spirit before he finds a light to carry him through it."

At that, she chased after him, leaving the acolytes to return to the temple.

Draco: Kaze, this is getting long. I'm gonna cut it here. I feel strangely obligated to use kaze for Crystalist cursing for as long as this thing lingers in Ancheim.