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Note: English is not my native language, and I lack beta/proofreader, therefore expect mistakes and wonky grammar.

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3

She stepped onto the metal flooring of the airship dock. It hasn't been that long since her last visit – several days at best, but things kept happening at a pace that made her feel like it had been a long while.

So few people and not a familiar face in sight. Good. Better than good.

With a small sigh, she made her way across town, aimless, distracted, heels clicking against the highly decorated streets and her eyes drinking in all the beauty of the masonry and the painted murals adorning the façade of small townhouses. That's what Terncliff looked like to her. A beautifully intricate lace, a strange masterwork in its simplicity – one which also happened to be burnt all across the edges, but never reaching the breathtaking middle.

She made her way across cobbled streets towards the grassy centre of the Square. It was quiet, only the slight whisper of a breeze playing through the hazel tree adding ambience to the moment. In the end, she had settled herself under one of such trees, not bothering with the bench and instead choosing to climb right next to it, to lean against the rough bark. To the side, a large, lush plant blooming with blousy pink flowers tumbled, giving off a pleasant scent and obscuring her from sight. The trees helped to disperse the heat into a comforting warmth against her skin.

A quietness seeped around her for the first time in days. She revelled in its peace, closing her eyes, resting her head back, and allowing sleepiness to drag away any remaining heavy thoughts. Its tranquillity almost lulled her closer as her body ached with ever-mounting exhaustion. That was why she was here, was it not?

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The calm. The quiet. A small town far away from everything. Not entirely free of its troubles, but it was the least amount of trouble amidst everything going on.

At times, that was enough.

"It's you. Father didn't mention you were coming," a voice asked, dragging her back from her introspection and her sole focus on the notebook in her lap. It was Allie, and with no Severa or Valdeaulin in sight. If they let her roam around, then she was not considered a prisoner of war. Or was at the very least trusted enough not stir trouble.

The warrior shook her head. "I sent no notes."

"He said you were injured in the... last fight." When she killed her brother, yes. Although more surprising it was to her that Gaius noticed to begin with. Some Legati were, admittedly, marginally more capable than others.

"Wounds heal."

Another stretch of silence, with a bit of scribbling coming from her lap.

"I've been meaning to ask-..." Allie started again, trying to avoid the discomfort of feeling unwanted, "well, I've been meaning to ask a few things but... What is your name?" The other raen just looked at the younger girl, a bit disbelieving. Allie started to fidget under the stare. "I mean, I heard something but I was never sure if it was you they were talking about."

"Kebhut."

"That doesn't sound eastern."

"No. It doesn't."

Silence seemed to stretch on. Again. It could be a bit frustrating even for someone trained in the military. But the last time she was here, Kebhut did stand on the side and let others do most of the talking.

"Mind if I sit here?" She asked timidly.

Kebhut moved her tail out of the way, making room for the girl. Allie took her seat next to her and shyly leaned over to look at what had preoccupied the Warrior so. A small 'oh' escaped her lips as she gazes into a spread of intricate sketches. Line after line of details – of buildings and streets, locals and Ironworks engineers and even... a stray moogle stuck under a suspiciously all-too-heavy pile of rubble. Some sketches were just patterns – of the tiles covering the streets of the city, other came from the buildings themselves.

As the day went on shadows moved across town, the soft breeze came from the ocean carrying the scent of salt, and the cheerful chirrups of bird song or high-pitched calls from the gulls made the scene more perfectly idyllic. Allie spent it sitting next to the Warrior of Light, watching as page after page was filled in silence.

Dribbles of dusky sunlight washed the lush forest surrounding the town and many trees in the town itself, and warmth hummed in the air. Finally, Kebhut tore a page from her notebook and handed it over to the younger raen. Allie shook, barely able to hold it in her hands, but the warrior gave a small nod before returning attention to her work.

Or she would have, had there not been a familiar set of footsteps, a pair really, and at his approach, she cocked her head a bit, still not looking up. The younger raen's name was called.

"It's time you head back," Valdeaulin gestured for Allie to follow him.

"Thank you," she whispered climbing to her feet, violet eyes bright with moisture and paper still being held close. She headed past Gaius with a small greeting and after Valdeaulin with a gentle wave back.

Gaius' glance bounced around the scene. "A surprise to see you here. Any particular reason?"

"Making rounds," Kebhut spoke after a moment. The impulse to tell him off vies with the slow, somnolent indifference brought on by familiar patterns – a practiced track she walked before.

"Is that also in your job description?"

"Yes."A blunt answer as he ever was going to get. "What of Castrum Collinum?"

"Nothing yet." He stated through thinned lips, as though guesswork left a bitter taste on his tongue. "We do not have the manpower. It would be foolhardy to attack now."

"A slaughter, yes. Understandable you'd want to avoid it."

There was a moment of punctuated silence which fell between them, until it was interrupted by Severa slinking closer, informing her that, since the inn was full, the warrior can take up residence in one of the vacant apartment buildings. They're all furnished, but after both the deadly epidemic a decade ago and Garlean treatment of the locals, it was still people that the town lacked.

With the key and a 'thank you' exchanged, the two former enemies were left alone once more.

"This was a resort then," the raen remarked suddenly standing up from her perch under the tree. Her tail swished behind her, removing clinging dirt.

"You must mean before the occupation." He shrugged and followed her where she walked over to the protruding terrace. "If it was, it stopped having much of traffic in the years before we came."

"It is located far too high above the water to benefit from its proximity to the sea. The town has no other economical or strategic value aside from the hollowed-out cliff."

"You noticed."

She looked down at her drawings, a vertical cut of the town and the cliff below, with steep tunnels and underground dwellings – a window into something akin to a miniature anthill.

"Even Garleans would be hard-pressed to dig into solid rock unless there was already a cave system to ease the process." After all, after Terncliff came under Garlean control following the invasion of Werlyt, and the airship supply depot was built directly into the rock-face. Turning her back against the ocean, she leaned against the balustrade, the setting sun dying the entire view in honey gold dyes. "If not smuggler tunnels than catacombs..."

From the corner of her eye, she could see Gaius raise a brow. Whether impressed or confused, she had no idea, and she didn't exactly have any interest to guess.

"I still fail to see why this interests you so much." He said it as a statement rather than a question.

She shrugged, not offering a further explanation, and folded the notebook. His eyes followed its disappearance into the small bag hanging from her waist. He only caught a brief glance of the pages. She in turn saw him take notice and cocked an eyebrow in question.

"Nothing. Merely surprised you have other affinities besides hitting the bottle," he replied with a shake of his head before moving to stand next to her.

"Still concerned it impaired my reflexes? My judgment?" Kebhut did a good job of shrugging off the comment. "Don't be. I have 'too much aether' for the alcohol to affect me the way it should. Besides..." she added after a moment's thought, "the night is still young."

"While I am glad to hear that an entire crate is not a requirement to loosen your lips, I wonder if, at this rate, I'll be forced into in a position of confiscating all the alcohol in town." His eyes track sideways before travelling over her lack of armour. Whatever conclusion he came to, he caught her gaze and held it, a challenge there – the slip-up was clearly deliberate.

Her lips pressed into a grim line. "Kindly keep your concerns, and your bullets, out of my personal life."

While there was no denying the effectiveness of Eorzian healing skills, Gaius already had some doubts that she had gone to anyone (if she even needed help) with the intention of dealing with the hangover. This only confirmed his suspicions...

"So, your fellow Scions do not know..." Something flashed across his face – a glimmer of deliberation if she was to guess – but, at length, he chuckled quietly, a knowing little smirk creasing the corners of his eyes. "Clever girl like you should know better than to dismiss a help offered."

Her expression hardened. "You may be old enough to be my father, but I am not one of your orphans, Gaius van Baelsar." His name was a growl between sharp teeth. "Do not make a mistake and treat me as one."

"I merely mean that it is a hard thing to find in a place filled with murder and death. I speak from experience." He leaves it barbless – a warning, but not quite a threat yet, nor a deterrent. Yet, the sudden certainty that he'll retaliate later when she's got her guard down, pricked her spine with clammy unease.

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