They fished Sayo out last. Or rather someone, most likely Sister Imai, finally noticed Sayo hadn't resurfaced. Acolyte Udagawa's chant reverberated through the waters, calling its dead to her aid. How the girl retained her vigor after such a defeat Sayo would never know. The dregs of the dead rose one last time to spit out Sayo as a morsel too lukewarm to swallow. She laid motionless, breathing in mud. She was discovering bones she hadn't been aware of in their wreckage thereof, her pride especially.

Hina wouldn't have suffered this. Tumbling off a cliff, or whatever euphemism Sister Imai might name a complete and effortless annihilation. She could see it: Hina dancing, laughing, taunting, until finally bored, she took her sword to the monster. Is that all? she would say, and because it was Hina, she would be sincerely disappointed. And Sayo would be there, coughing water and blood, crawling by her nails to a higher ground, in her vision as in life.

Familiar noises kept her tethered to reality, just barely. She travelled with noisome people. One very noisy person in particular. "Hey, hey, Sayo, still with us? Rinko, Ako, help me turn her around and take her armor off."

"No," Sayo gurgled, more water than word, and taking that as encouragement, the two mages flipped her around and fumbled with her armor pieces.

"Is she all right?" Udagawa, chipper as if nothing had happened. Before anyone could reply, she said, "Huh, something's missing."

The sounds of footsteps retreating. "M-Magistra," Sayo said hoarsely. Somehow Magistra Shirokane understood, and followed the other mage. That left Sayo alone with Imai, who was quiet for once. Though she had always been quiet when her healing magic was needed more than her tongue.

Sayo faded in and out of consciousness. It was the magic, she knew. Duty kept her tethered. Her oath. One person was missing. "Where's… Minato…" Sayo said, a little unnecessarily — Imai wouldn't have started on the others while Minato still needed her.

"Yukina's fine, she just went to have a look. There's something she wanted to check."

Imai's voice came from a place far away, somewhere beyond the green dreamless sleep. It would be so easy to let herself drown, to forget about everything for a while. The pain, the old anger resurrected by her most recent failure, her oaths…

"Oi, Sayo, you're not sleeping on me, are you?"

She started, but Imai held her down easily. "I haven't said sorry, have I? You took that hit for me."

Her tone was casual, but when Sayo peered up Imai couldn't quite meet her eyes. I swore an oath and Better me than you were on the tip of her tongue. In the end she gestured to the largest source of pain, somewhere below her neck and said, "We're even."

"Ahaha… about that… There's not much I can do for your leg right now."

Sayo raised herself, painstakingly propped on her elbows, and lifted her head, ignoring Imai's soft protests. The right leg was fine, but the left was a bloody mess. A sliver of white bone protruded over the torn flesh.

"It looks worse than it is!" Imai quickly said. "The monster took a chunk of it, but I've got it stabilized. It's just going to take some time to fully heal it. And, uh, you probably shouldn't move too much. Don't worry, Yukina can't have gone very far, she should be back soon. And then we'll move you to somewhere with a proper bed."

It took all Sayo's self-control not to comment on Imai's skills. The healers back at the capital, the other Sisters of Imai's Order, all of them would never dare to laugh off this level of incompetence. She angrily had a look: the river, the not-insurmountable valley they were in, and somewhere nearer the sky, the monster that had denied the merry little band their progress. Not much to look at, but a better vista than the remnants of her leg.

With difficulty and mostly fatigue, Sayo said, "You seem familiar with the area." But on the other hand, she wouldn't be having this unnecessary chatter with any other healer. In the first place, other healers didn't have a soporific side effect to their work.

"Nothing gets past you, does it," Imai said ruefully. "But it's close enough. We got lost here once, Yukina and I. I don't even remember what we were chasing! Yukina's father had to go out of his way to find us. Uh, don't tell her I told you that."

"I'm not in the habit of gossiping," Sayo said. And in any case, one had to be blind to not see that Minato's father was verboten. She'd embarked on this quest in order to avenge her father; for what offense and on whom wasn't Sayo's business. The vagueness suited Sayo well. Minato's drive to destroy their common enemy was all that mattered. As far as Sayo was concerned, Minato's past only became her business when it impeded the party under her care.

As predicted, Minato returned not a few moments later, looking no worse for the wear. She even retained her hat, disheveled with the weight of water, and her lute, all strings miraculously unbroken.

Minato gave Sayo a once over, then apparently satisfied she was not dead, said to Imai, "You were right."

Imai clasped her hands together. "Then we can — "

"No."

"But Sayo needs — "

Sayo, who could speak for herself, interjected, "Nothing, I am in want of nothing. We're wasting enough time as it is." Slowly, and ignoring Imai's admonishment, she stood, careful to favor her left side as much as she tried to not show it. Imai did a better job than Sayo had expected. Though still frail, her leg had regained some form of its former shape.

Her hand unconsciously drifted to the sword by her side — and rested on empty air where the hilt should be. At the same time, Udagawa yelled, "Aha, found it!" Sayo whirled around just in time to see a wretched, formless mass bursting out of the water, belching something that blistered in the sun. As Sayo squinted, her sword fell from the sky only a hair's breadth away from severing her fingers. Her shield landed with a dull thump next to it.

Sayo gingerly grabbed the hilt and gave it a few swings to shake off the rest of the water and undead filth. As unruffled as she could pretend to, she said, "Therefore, we should proceed immediately."

Imai held up her hands. "Hold on, don't take this wrong. As happy as I am to see you all healthy and gung-ho, I don't think we're ready to face that monster again so soon."

As it was the truth, Sayo ignored its sting. "Then what do you suggest?"

"Well… I was going to suggest we find some place to rest, strategize… you know?"

"We can do that here," Minato said.

Udagawa and Shirokane had rejoined them, the former waving excitedly. "Oh, Rinrin can help! Rinrin, do that thing you showed me yesterday."

"B-but…"

Minato said kindly, "If it would help us we'd be so obliged."

"Um… please stand back… just in case…"

Shirokane closed her eyes. Her lips moved wordlessly, then her fingers started weaving invisible threads —

Fire roared in the space they had vacated, a towering beast of tusks and fangs. And now that she wasn't fighting for her dear life and four others, she noticed the feathers. Sayo thought she would have remembered such gaudy things. But then Shirokane's attention to details was wholly hers, and no one else's. She replicated the monster down to the fear it inspired.

"Yeah, what do you think, Yukina?" Imai said after a while.

"It still looks tough," Udagawa groused, "I can't find its weakness at all."

Suddenly, it roared. Sayo's hand flew to her sword instinctively, but the monster simply vanished. "S-sorry," Shirokane whispered.

Minato shook her head. Frowning at the sky, she said, "It might be true that… we're too weak right now… but that is precisely why we must not turn back. If we let it gather strength, it might move on to attack a settlement."

Imai sighed. She looked tired. "I know that. I just thought that if it's strength we're lacking, or spells, or okay, just one song… Yukina, do you remember? That dirge your father sang once."

"I remember," Minato said tersely. The group was hanging onto her next words, which didn't seem to be forthcoming.

Imai tried again. "That's why I've been talking to you about going home. It's not a retreat. But we'd be… regrouping. Gathering our strength. More yours than mine, but because it's you, Yukina, it'll make all the difference, I'm sure."

"I… I can't go back yet. I'm not worthy of it, Lisa," Minato said, so soft as to be inaudible.

Udagawa had been quiet, but now she finally burst out. "I don't really understand what you're talking about, but I just know you're the most talented, coolest, bestest bard I've ever met, and you can sing anything you want!"

It seemed to have the opposite of its intended impact on Minato. She was only slightly mollified when Shirokane said, "I-I think so, as well… I don't understand prosodic magic well, but… I can feel your passion… I think that's the most important part."

Sayo hoped Minato wasn't expecting her to say something. Until meeting Minato in the dingy pub in Haneoka's outer wings, she'd always found bards to be jesters at best, and swindlers at worst. And she was out of her depths with magic. So she looked at Imai and asked, "What does the song do?"

"It puts monsters to sleep. Any monsters, even one of the size and power of that FESpawn."

Sayo nodded. "Then it could be useful." Thinking quickly, she added, "If I may amend, it would be a boon to have in our arsenal beyond our current predicament."

"Look, Yukina, even Sayo agrees with me. That's like a sign from the gods, right there," Imai said, her lips quirked impishly. She was more solemn when she turned to Minato. "Isn't it worth at least a try?"

It took a little more lengthy silence, but finally Minato nodded. And they were moving again. Sayo limped at the back. Imai tried to hover, but a stern glare and frosty silence, and she took the hint.

Exiting the valley, they came across a plain. A very green plains. Sheep milled about, watched over by sleepy boys. As Imai had said, it did not take long to reach the village.

Sayo lumbered at the back of the group. She sometimes covered their retreat this way, but more than that, this way she escaped Imai's hawk eyes. Sayo would not become a liability.

She also got to watch Minato's progressively tensing shoulders. Sayo normally wouldn't bear it, but she was willing to make allowances for grief. She had seen too many respectable people behave erratically in bereavement not to.

Then Minato suddenly stopped before the flock of sheep. Alert, Sayo's hand flew to her sword. But there was nothing but the sheep, and a man casually reclining on a tree. Minato was frozen, wouldn't even answer when Udagawa asked her what was wrong. Then finally the man looked up, and smiled.

"If I'm not dreaming, that's my Yukina, come home at last," he said. He had a lilting voice to go with his charming smile. Sayo caught herself thinking he was fair to look at, for a shepherd, and shoved the thought far away.

Minato dipped her head awkwardly. "Father. I am… home. For now."

Udagawa made a noise, but Imai quickly took over explaining their purpose. The man who was Minato's father, who was apparently alive all this time, nodded. "That's all right. Would you mind introducing me to your friends? After you help me with the sheep."

Minato's father started first, and his daughter soon joined in the pastoral melody. It made Sayo think of home, of Hina, and their childhood days, when she must have been — there were unfortunately no other words for it — happy. When Hina was less a source of aggravation, and the spark in her eyes caused Sayo's heart to swell as well.

Watching father and daughter herd the sheep, Udagawa frantically whispered to Imai. "But, wait, Lisa, I thought Yukina's father was dead!"

"Ahaha, how do I say this… there's dead, and then there's dead…"