All right. So, last time, we got to go to where the guys are in terms of happenings. Their time at the Inverness house will definitely be in a few prompts, hence why I didn't exactly show anything. We'll have plenty of material to work with there, don't worry.

Meanwhile, I think it's time we went on with the story, right? Let's go across two different missions!

Informant

Marche was a little annoyed. He had just gotten out of the Sprohm jail, where he was kept alone and the guards did who knew what to his clan. After that, he had a tough time attempting to get the clan unshaken out of whatever had happened to them. Nikolai and the people he had taken with him were of course safe, so Marche was relieved about that. And so, when he took a job and brought his clan along, he had expected things to go a little smoother.

Looking now at the group of six that his clan was in the middle of an engagement with, the human boy realized just how wrong that assertion was.

He now looked to Sesily, one of the new vieras in the clan as she stepped forward, readying a rapier as she pulled her soft turquoise veil to her face. As her hands darted in elegance and she cast a spell, he looked over to the group of six. They were not supposed to be there.

"Hey, it's that kid!"

"The palace still wants him, right?"

"They'll go to any costs. Now, let's nab him and his friends!"

Just before the fight... Who was he kidding? That's what he speculated they would have said about him before they found him. Speculation did no good then, but still, they did not just wander onto the stretch of desert they were in. They sort of just came up to Marche and his band of six and shouted a few things. Marche had only had a small amount of confusion, but what was even more confusing was that they knew he was here in the first place.

And the boy realized that this was unnerving to him.

With a sound of wind depositing a heavy contingent of dust, Sesily cast the spell, hitting the bangaa fighter and causing him to become stuck in time. Noticing this, the boy nodded and drew his blade. A moogle on the other side moved a little it and attempted to toss a dagger at the elementalist, but she dodged that pretty easily.

It was then his turn, and with his blade he rushed towards the stopped bangaa. With one swing, it went down, and he felt a rush as he earned yet another judge point.

And then, as he watched everybody else's turns unfold before him, he decided that someone had to have told him about it. But who was the big question, of course.

He would have to figure that out. In the meantime, he was stuck in a battle that his clan was winning, and so he brought his head back in the game as a moogle thief quickly came up to him, looking ready to steal some money in the middle of combat.

After the fight, Sesily was standing by Marche as they investigated the desert area around them. Juris, Nusratt, Smyth, and Ocon were all there as well, watching the human boy look around the area. Marche insisted upon looking around the area after the engagement, but for some reason he was just looking around uncertainly.

"I'm telling you, those assholes had to have known we were comin'," reiterated Nusratt for the tenth time. "What, you think some group of big fuckin' hotshots are gonna give us shit just because we're fuckin' here?"

"Language, Nusratt!" exclaimed Sesily. "We get your point. But still, I think we should let him search."

"There's nothin' to fuckin' search here!" retorted the moogle angrily.

"Nusratt does have a point," said Juris in defense of the moogle that was perched on his shoulder. "They did specifically call Marche out. And they did act as if they were expecting us, so I have reason to side with him."

"Thank you, Juris," replied Nusratt, his frown lessening a little bit. "It's good to know that at least one of you dumb shits is on my side."

Smyth simply shrugged. "Persssonally, I don't really care," he said. "But I'm not sssure they jussst attacked usss. They're like sssome of the weaker guysss back in the ring. They try to ssscare you..."

The viera simply shrugged. "If nothing else, do it for his peace of mind," she insisted.

By this point, Marche had wandered quite a ways from his group. In many ways, though, the entire group could see the frown on his face from where he stood, shaking his head with his hands clenched into fists. Whatever the implications of this were, it weighed heavily on his mind, and it showed in how he moved, his steps deliberate but a little less certain than they usually were. The other clan members glanced at each other, and then back to the human as he trudged a little further from the group.

Nusratt was clearly not amused. "Peace of mind my ass," he said venomously. "I just wanna get the fuck out of this goddamn place. It's too fuckin' hot!"

"Now that isss a sssentiment I can agree with," replied Ocon as he wiped some sweat off of his forehead. "But I can wait for a few more minutesss. He doesss look perturbed."

Smyth cast a glance at Nusratt before speaking. "I don't know," he said. "I would think that he'd jussst let usss run around and do whatever while he thinksss about it... But I don't get why he'sss doing all thisss..."

"Well, we don't want to get ambushed again, do we?" asked Sesily, shaking her head.

This effectively shut everybody up. Miraculously, this included Nusratt for a reason that nobody could really put their finger on.

"I... When you put it like that..."

"Why the fuck didn't ya just say it like that?" asked Nusratt, interrupting Juris' statement. "Woulda saved us a hell of a lot of bitching."

Sesily shrugged as Marche approached. "You tell me."

The boy turned to his clan and nodded, his lips curved downard as he looked at his friends.

"The next time I go somewhere where there's a find, I'm bringing you guys with me," he said, crossing his arms in front of him. "We're stopping by Cadoan before we go back to Cyril. I need to talk to Ezel, see if he can figure out some of who might have ratted me out..."

The human boy simply walked off in the direction of the town of Cadoan. His clan stayed behind, shrugging as they slowly followed.

"I get the ssslightessst sssussspicion that won't be nesssesssary," said Ocon breifly, claws clasped together.

And that was all that was said as the group moved on through the desert back to civilization.

Ezel was no help, unfortunately. Being one of the big antilaw ears in Ivalice did not always have its advantages.

And so, when another job was posted at the inn, Marche took it anxiously, bringing the same group as before with him. Nusratt was now on top of Juris' head as the clan moved about in yet another desert, this time to investigate a series of pickpocketing incidents. Nusratt had gone to no end to voice his displeasure, but once Juris had gotten him settled down the trip to the desert went rather quietly. Smyth was vigilant, keeping an eye out for any other people that might be there and with one hand constantly on his blade.

Finally, the group stopped, and they all looked ahead of them. There was a lone figure standing in the sands, looking around solemnly. He stood rather proudly, reddish hair beaming in the sunlight as his figure was seen. The group was about to call out to the figure when they all suddenly noticed that Marche seemed a little taken aback by this figure. He glanced at the group briefly.

"Doned...?" he muttered to himself, scarcely audible to the figure from a distance but audible to the rest of his clan.

At this, the small group gave him confused glances.

"Doned?" asked Sesily softly. "Who's that?"

"My brother..."

And as if on cue, the figure turned around, revealing a rather youthful face to Marche and the other five people he had brought with him to the desert. Upon seeing this, Marche's stance seemed to become so much more confident. They could almost feel the smile the human was giving to the figure from a distance.

"Doned!" cried out an obviously overjoyed Marche. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

The figure looked at Marche.

Instead of taking a step towards the blonde, however, he stepped back. This action seemed to puzzle the entire clan, but they had no time to dwell on it before the one known as Doned ran in the other direction for a few paces. There, he went to some rocks that were some distance away. He seemed to whisper into them, as if there were people hiding behind them waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Immediately, they all assumed the worst, for the last ambush came out of a spot that was easy to hide behind. It was such that when a group of bangaas stepped out of the rocks, they all knew they were in trouble.

"Oh, motherfucker!"

Nusratt's reaction summed up their feelings so well nobody really felt like yelling at him about the language. The only one who was not mirroring this sentiment was Marche, who was profoundly confused by what he had just witnessed.

"W... what...?" he asked slowly, not believing what he had just seen happen.

Smyth was the first to draw his weapon. "We'll think about that later!" he said. "For now, we've gotta take care of them!"

And as much as Marche hated to admit it, he knew the former gladiator was right. And so, the boy reluctantly drew his blade as the bangaas called an engagement in the Gotor desert.

"I told you that thisss could only end badly..."

"It'sss bad enough hisss own brother might be involved in what isss happening..."

"I've seen people screw me over. But that shit about maybe gettin' screwed by your own brother? Shit, man... I don't know what the fuck I can say to that."

Sesily shook her head. "It's so... unfortunate."

The clan was walking away from the engagement. They had won, and before the judge had disappeared Marche had attempted to ask the bangaas what Doned was doing there. They would not talk, however, and so the blonde was walking with his head facing down looking at the sands beneath his feet. The entire group seemed to know what was wrong with Marche, and they made no attempt to hide it.

Here, though, it was getting a bit much. "It sucks," he muttered simply. "Here I was looking for him all this time... and to think he might be trying to work against me here..."

Juris shrugged. "There is a chance you can convince him otherwise," replied Juris. "See that perhaps things are better the way his old life was."

"That's true, I guess..." said Marche. "But there's a problem with that... Doned couldn't walk back where I'm from."

This was effective enough at stopping the clan where they were, all of them coming to a direct halt. All eyes went to the human boy nervously.

"Wait, what does that mean?" asked Sesily, scratching her head. "If he can't walk there, why can't he walk here?"

"It is complicated," replied the nu mou softly as he gripped his mace lightly. "Just know that Marche's history is... complex..."

The viera decided it was best not to question that, and after a look from Ocon that convinced her not to inquire any further, she complied. Nusratt was not content with this, however, and he made his displeasure clear.

"I don't give a fuck whether he can walk or not," he said. "I'm guessing it means that bad shit's gonna go down, right?"

"Nusratt! Language!" reprimanded Sesily.

The moogle shot a glance at Sesily. "Hey, bitch, what about, 'shut the fuck up'?" he asked. "You know I'm right."

Ocon glared at the two. "Both of you, ssstop thisss!" he said. "Nusssratt hasss a point!"

"If he couldn't walk anywaysss, then he probably would have pulled sssomething like thisss," added Smyth.

It was then Ocon's turn to be angry at someone. "Sssmyth!" proclaimed the priest.

"You know it'sss true," pointed out the gladiator.

The priest gestured to Marche. "Not in front of him!" he stated.

"Why not?" asked Smyth. "He knowsss it already. Just sssayin' what'sss going on isssn't gonna hurt him."

"Fucker's got a point," added Nusratt. "I know that if I couldn't fuckin' walk, I'd kill myself just to use my fuckin' legs again."

"Language!" shouted Sesily.

And from there, the four clan members began shouting at each other angrily, all of them picking sides in a debate that seemingly meandered throughout the next few minutes. It was a shouting match that had Juris groan in disapproval. Marche stood distantly from it all, the bickering between the four going on for quite some time and getting louder ever so slowly.

It was so loud that eventually, Juris had enough. Raising his mace, a water bubble suddenly covered everyone that was arguing, surprising the entire group as they were suspended in the liquid for a brief period of time. After a few seconds, Juris lowered his mace, the water dissipating and causing everyone to fall to the ground.

"Oh, great..." hissed Smyth. "Thanksss for--"

"Will you quiet down?" roared Juris, intimidating the gladiator into shutting his mouth. "This is not worth quarelling over! Now you will all stop yelling at each other or so help me whatever gods you believe in I will drown you all with magic! Is this understood?"

All eyes turned to each other nervously. Nusratt shrugged.

"I don't fuckin' get it," he said. "All I'm sayin' is that Marche should've seen this shit coming."

"Nusratt!" shouted Sesily, finally unable to muster up the courage to reprimand him on his swearing.

Marche shook his head, sitting down on the desert sand. "No, he's right," he said. It was at the glisten running down his cheek that shushed everybody up. "I... I should've figured he'd pull something like that. He always wanted to walk. He was always too sick to do it. He would have given anything to walk. And he'd do anything to hang on to the ability to do just that..."

The boy sniffled softly, another tear beginning to fall past. "But Doned..." he said simply. "He was the one person I felt I could trust in the world..." He shook his head, making no attempt to dry his tears as he hugged his knees to his body. "We had a really close bond. We were more than just brothers. We were best friends. We looked to each other for comfort. We cared about each other so much... We were so close..."

He wiped a tear from his cheek. "Why?" he asked softly. "Why would he...?"

The boy was unable to finish his sentence. Softly, he choked on his words, and the leader of Clan Nutsy was reduced to tears. He barely dared to cover his face, just bringing a hand to his chin as the tears slowly came out of his eyes.

This sight left the group dumbfounded for a few seconds. They knew that their leader wasn't perfect, but they would not have expected him to break down into tears at all. Pity was the first emotion in their minds, even Nusratt. But they were powerless to do anything about it.

Smyth was the first one to act. He knelt by the leader, setting a calloused hand on the Marche's shoulder. The boy looked up, his eyes shining in sadess as he looked to the black-scaled bangaa. Slowly, the gladiator nodded, draping his arm across the boy's shoulders. The human used this to turn to the bangaa and cry into his shoulder. Ocon seemed to nod in approval as he saw this, and the boy slowly cried. Nusratt had the good sense to shut up as slowly, the group knelt down next to Marche. With solemn looks on their faces, they all allowed Marche to vent his frustrated tears on the former gladiator's shoulders. And nothing more was said as the boy cried, feeling the comforting air around him.