Opening his eyes, he saw ribbons of light surrounding him. His pain seemed to lessen, and he recognised the effects of a cure materia being used. Forcing himself up, he turned to see who was using it, and with a jolt of surprise recognised the smudged and dirty face as Caaliey's. She was dressed in plain travelling clothes, nothing at all like the dress she had worn the night before. Her shoulder-length auburn hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, and around her waist was a belt of daggers, all looking like they had seen good use.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were going off to be schooled on how to be a lady, or something of the sort."

She made a face at the comment, one that showed what she thought of that idea.

"My grandparents have all these grand hopes for me. I don't. All I want to be is a travelling mercenary, or at least something where I can travel the world with Qwark, here," she replied as she scratched her chocobo's neck.  "They don't like it too much when I ride off for days on her, but they can't do much about that. Which is why they were so happy about sending me off to Midgar so I could, in their words, 'Get those silly dreams out of your head and settle down like a real lady should.'"

Tyren raised his eyebrow.

"Well, not to worry, you certainly don't look like one right now. And believe me, being a mercenary isn't all it's cracked up to be. Trust me. It's a rather boring life."

She stuck her tongue out at him before continuing.

"I like it better this way. I left a note for them before I ran away, telling them that I wasn't going to become a young lady of any sort, and not to worry, that I would be just fine wherever I was going. But what you were doing, heading out for the swamp alone, and in the middle of the night? And what were those weird words you were mumbling? You're lucky I saw you and followed."

Tyren shrugged, not wanting to talk, or even think about the strange force that controlled his body at times.

"Must've been sleepwalking. Anyway, I gotta head back across the swamp now to go to Midgar, and I'll need your chocobo for that."

It was clear she didn't buy his explanation, but she wisely dropped the subject.

"I'm not going to Midgar. I thought I'd already explained that. Besides, you're in no condition to get there, on foot or on chocobo. I know a place just through the mountains, where I have some friends who'll look after us for awhile. From there you can go to Junon and hitch a ride on an airship back to Midgar."

"No. I gotta go there now."

He struggled upright, and steadied himself, panting, against a wooden pole.

"Uh, Tyren, I wouldn't do that. Look at what it is."

Focusing his mind enough to examine his surroundings, he jumped back when he saw a Zolom impaled on the huge stake.

"You… you didn't do this, did you?"

"No, I wish. It's been here for a while. It appeared after the black-caped man came through. I definitely wouldn't want to get on his bad side."

Tyren pushed aside the shiver of fear that the description of the man sent through him, and abruptly turned his back to the gruesome sight.

"I'm leaving for Midgar now, and I'm borrowing your chocobo to get there. So I recommend you come too."

His breathing was laboured as he strapped on both his pack and his sword, and with great difficulty, walked over to the chocobo.

"Well, if you're going to be that way about it…" Caaliey sighed.

The hilt of the dagger hit his head with much more force than he ever thought one could, and he blacked out again.