Chapter 2

"I can be cracked, I can be made. I can be told, I can be played."

Rammbroes and Cid were very meticulous about the aforementioned preparations. For three days they studied charts, graphs, and stacks of ancient tomes from dusk till dawn. During those days, Filexi spent most of her time wandering about Mor Dhona. Occasionally she'd go hunting for wildlife, per requests by citizens of Revenant's Toll. Sometimes she would stop by the tents to see what their group, dubbed 'NOAH' apparently, were up to. They were always excited to share their knowledge but most of it went over her head. Often, the Warrior of Light found herself alone. When all the beasts were slain or no one needed saving, she could be found sitting somewhere quiet, sipping tea and looking at weapon blueprints.

On the evening of the third day, Filexi sat outside her tent, tunic sleeves rolled up as she disassembled and reassembled a musketoon. Parts of the weapon rested in organized groups all about her cross-legged form, black and blue hair pulled into a messy bun to keep it out of her face. This process was a kind of calming mechanism; dismantling the weapon to only rebuild it one piece at a time. It was the same routine, time and time again. Dependable. Stephanivien would be proud of how quickly she could perform this task now, including the different attachments he'd sent. It was entirely possible she could even rebuild by touch alone. With this thought, Filexi slowly let her bluish-green eyes close and reached for where she always kept the butt of the rifle.

"Is blindly constructing one's weapon often part machinist training?" G'raha's voice floated from behind her. It dripped with the same teasing tone as it had when he'd hidden from her in the Shroud.

Filexi kept her eyes closed, face serene. While her tail whipped back in annoyance, over the grey duster she'd laid behind her. Nevertheless, she reached for the stock, the metal that would begin to connect the butt of the rifle to the trigger, sliding it into the proper position without a peek. "It is crucial to know one's weapon in order to wield it to its full potential," was all she said. Her ungloved hands moved across the pieces to grab the next part, metal and wood familiar to the touch.

Behind her, the male Miqo'te's mismatched eyes sparkled with admiration, even if his vocal inflections didn't show it. The bits of metal, wood, and powder were beyond his comprehension. And yet, she deftly attached each piece, one by one, until a firearm came together. All without even opening her eyes. Yet another notch in the Warrior of Light's belt. He'd heard of the incredible things this woman accomplished. So many questions rose to his lips. Where had Filexi trained? What was it like fighting a primal? How could one, like himself, become as skilled as she? Could he go on such amazing adventures? These questions and more danced upon the tip of his tongue. But the desire to seem cool, the need to be suave in front of her, smashed them all to pieces.

"It's a rather large weapon. How does one, such as yourself, keep your aim steady?" G'raha asked. As he recalled from his observations gathering the aethersands, the Warrior of Light was roughly the same height as himself, mayhaps a smidge taller. He put himself in her place, imagining aiming the rifle and only seeing missed targets. Was the gun lighter than he imagined? What about kickback? It seemed much more difficult than the bow he preferred to wield.

Despite the inquiry's genuine origins, it was the wrong question to ask. Filexi's grip tightened around the bottom of the musketoon. All he heard was a 'click' and G'raha found himself staring down the barrel of a weapon wielded by one of the strongest individuals on Eorzea. The scowl that had been on her face morphed into a confident smile.

"Would you like to find out?" She asked, hard gaze studying him up and down. She noticed he was wearing his armor, red, white, and black leather crisp and clean. Why not rough it up a bit? Make him actually use that fancy garb from his school. "Let us have a friendly, little duel. I am feeling a bit stiff after all the academia recently."

A duel with the Warrior of Light?! The idea was compelling and terrifying. G'raha held his hands up, palms out as he studied the weapon and its wielder. "A ranged duel? As we are both practiced in the ranged physical arts," he clarified, not exactly agreeing to the idea yet. Immediate acceptance would make him seem too eager. While outright refusal would cast the shadow of cowardice.

"Of course," she replied, lips curving into a smirk. "I would be interested to know how one, such as yourself, can keep the aim of your bow steady."

G'raha raised a brow, opening his mouth to respond with his own quip, but another voice interjected.

"S-surely this is all in jest, ma'am," Wedge squeaked from the nearby tent. The Lalafell and his Roegadyn companion had watched the scene unfold from behind the canvas entry. The two clearly felt like they needed to save the Tia from what they believed to be a one-sided fight.

Filexi held the gun steady, leaving it pointed at G'raha as the silence stretched. With a languid shrug, she moved the firearm, resting the barrel on the shoulder of her monochrome tunic. "I can be cracked, I can be made. I can be told, I can be played. A riddle for a riddle…and yes, I suppose. All in jest," the machinist sighed, aggressive smirk softening as she attached the rifle to a magnetic holster still strapped to her back. She bent down to begin folding the tarp upon which all the weapon parts had been. Right. For a moment, she'd almost forgotten who she was. Teasing a new ally and casual duels were not something the Warrior of Light should be focused on with their big excursion. Everyone needed to be at full strength and focused.

"What would we use to keep track of successful hits?"

His question caused her head to snap up. Filexi turned to look up at the red-haired Miqo'te, hands stopping mid-fold. G'raha's mismatched eyes connected with hers before looking away quickly. He rubbed the back of his head, tail swishing as he said "I mean, I do not believe we can just shoot each other."

From the nearby tent, Wedge and Biggs watched with wide eyes as Filexi stared at G'raha. She stared long, too long, frozen in disbelief that he was considering accepting a fight against her. The almost awkward silence was broken when she laughed. It was a short chuckle, but genuine all the same.

"Excellent question. Precisely why I have specialized bullets made of paint," Filexi grinned like a child as she dropped the half-folded tarp and walked speedily toward her travel bag. After digging around, she returned to G'raha, holding what looked like multicolored beads in her gloved palm. "They may sting a bit upon contact, but they are just the thing to help you practice your aim during a duel. And not kill your partner of course." She laughed again, a humble excitement to the sound.

G'raha reached to take one of the beads from her hand, before pausing. "May I?" he asked, respectfully. After a single nod from her, G'raha took one between his fingers, holding it up for closer inspection. "Interesting and useful," he mused, a smile of his own spreading, as he rotated the sphere in thumb and forefinger.

Beyond his focus on the paintball, he could see Filexi's ears twitching with excitement. Such a juxtaposition in her personality from earlier, he thought. She'd been so aloof with a temper like an inferno. But now she was practically jumping with joy over ballistic balls of paint. Well, had he acted any different when they'd told him he could come in this expedition? She was just a person, wasn't she? A magnificent, powerful individual, but one who had hobbies, dislikes, and a background, like any of them.

Filexi nodded eagerly at G'raha's statement, not noticing him staring at her beyond the projectile. "It was an idea Joye had to help us practice on live targets," she explained as if he would know to whom she was referring. Looking past G'raha, the machinist raised a brow towards the tent where two specific engineers were pretending to be busy. "I'm sure some people would be more than happy to help attach some to your arrows for our friendly duel."

Biggs and Wedge jumped, before slowly shuffling out of the tent. "The trick," Biggs said, trying to act as if they'd always been a part of the conversation, "Will be securing them without making them burst."

"Or rendering their bursting capabilities completely null," Wedge added, doubling down on the topic. Perhaps the practice fight would make the two Miqo'te forget they had been gracelessly eavesdropped upon.

Filexi grinned broadly at G'raha as the engineers took some of the paintballs from her hand. He mirrored her excited smile. Mayhaps, she had been too quick to judge the Baldesion student. She was still annoyed he had toyed with her while gathering the aethersands but, he didn't shy away from her as others did.

Being the Warrior of Light had its perks, of that there was no doubt. Chasing monsters, finding lost answers, and defeating villains was incredibly fulfilling. More often than not, those tasks were completed alone, precisely because it was too dangerous for anyone else. The reputation that followed her was one of a hero, but heroes could be easily revered and feared. Nevertheless, here was someone who seemed to know of her exploits yet he did not shy away from a contest of strength. What that could mean beyond this moment, only time would tell.

With these thoughts circling, she focused back on G'raha and said, "I will gather some more from my pack. Why don't you help these two." She passed the remaining paintballs into his hands.

G'raha blinked, coming out of some reverie of his own. "Very well," he nodded. "After all, the sooner we finish preparing these, the sooner you can get to cleaning your clothes."

With furrowed brows, a look of utter befuddlement crossed Filexi's face. She quickly looked down at herself, inspecting the belted tunic, dark leggings, and black armored boots. Her tail swished about, puffed with anxiety as she spun about trying to look at every angle. True, it had been a moment since she'd polished her gear. But, It wasn't all that dirty, was it?

G'raha's ears flattened against his head as he flushed. It had not been his intention to offend her current attire. "Because it will be covered in paint, of course! After I beat you!" He awkwardly clarified. With that, he hastily moved to the nearby tent, turning his flustered attention to helping Wedge and Biggs.

Blinking rapidly, Filexi watched G'raha's back before he disappeared inside. As she turned to gather more paintballs, she covered her mouth to hold back a burst of laughter. His confidence was refreshing. His willingness to try something new, even if he did not understand it completely, was commendable. It would be fun to train with someone who believed their skills on par with the Warrior of Light, even though she knew how it would end.

As Wedge, Biggs, and G'raha worked to attach the paintballs to some arrows, a series of stifled giggles wafted their way, all from the direction of a black Miqo'te rifling through her bag.