Soft, singing voices floated through the darkness. They were muffled, but familiar. Melia turned her face toward them, hoping that she might find light. Yet the nothingness persisted. She craned her neck for a better view. Or, at least, she tried to. But her muscles didn't respond. The thought should have terrified her and yet, all she could feel was a heavy peace. As if she was more asleep than awake.

The voices wrapped around her, urging her to stay down. Stay dreaming. They were her friends; they had her best interests in mind. She could almost see them. Aizel and Garan harmonizing as they lounged nearby. Hogard making himself a cup of tea. And Damil kneeling at her side, dressing her wounds. Wounds?

She flinched away from the phantom touch. The illusion broke and she spiraled back down into the void. But she couldn't escape the voices. They trailed after her, growing louder, morphing into something foreign. Sweet tones gave way to gruff speech. The words eluded her. A different language, perhaps. She wanted to lift her head, pry open her leaden eyelids. Once again, her body refused to obey.

She was falling now, though – surrounded by nothing but dark and stillness – she wasn't sure why she felt that way. Before she could process what was happening, she landed on her feet. The void lifted. Or, maybe she'd fallen through the bottom. Her view panned upward. A ceiling shrouded in the shadow of a natural night. She glanced around at her surroundings. It was a small room, furnished only by a writing desk, an ether lamp, and a transporter.

And, somehow, she knew that she'd been there before.

When at last she moved, she was a marionette, being piloted by some unseen force. It pulled her toward the desk, made her sit. A pen and paper appeared in front of her. The ether lamp flickered and went out, plunging her into almost complete darkness. She tried to read the messy scrawl of words on the document by the icy light of the transporter. But it wasn't enough.

The invisible force jerked her out of the chair and hurled her toward the transporter. She fell to her knees, stared into her warped reflection. But… No. It couldn't have been her. The reflection was too childlike.

She had no time to rationalize it. In an instant, the transporter died and the void claimed her once more. Hands pressed into the metal, beating against its cold surface. As if she thought that she could beat the life back into it. But the machine was truly dead, snatching away her only escape route.

Let me out… Let me out!

Melia jolted awake, her pleas ringing in her ears. When she fully regained consciousness, a face dominated her view. It was gentle, concerned, but utterly unfamiliar to her. The deep blue eyes drew her in. She couldn't tear herself away. Still dazed from her vision, her heart constricted in panic. Her muscles stiffened.

With no small effort, she calmed herself enough to realize that this creature that held her in its arms was not a monster. Nor was it a High Entia. It had similar features to her mother, though. So perhaps… Her eyes flew wide open. A male Homs.

She struck him across the face.

"Get your hands off me!" Certainly, that was her voice, yet it sounded strange to her ears. Almost as if she was listening to an echo, rather than the real thing.

The male Homs backed away from her, rubbing his cheek. For the first time, she saw that he wasn't alone. There were three others of his kind – two males and a female. She focused on the woman, forced herself to recognize the similarities between this Homs and her late mother. The task was easier than she'd expected. Her mother had possessed dark eyes, like this woman. Loving brown eyes that haunted her dreams on the nights she most needed maternal guidance.

She was content to simply stare at this Homs female, but then she heard Hogard's voice behind her. Your Highness, don't focus all your energy on one enemy else the others will surprise you.

A familiar sentiment, she noted. One she'd been reminded of frequently as her quests become more dangerous.

So, she tore her gaze away, studied the other two. The first seemed more mountain than man with a towering spine and bulging muscles. Instinctively, unease pooled in her stomach. And she had never seen hair so much like fire before. It was more than a little unsettling, especially as he crept closer to her, reached out a hand. His voice boomed in her ears and she was momentarily dazed by its violence.

Then her attention shifted to the final man. He observed her in silence, surely noting that she was appraising him as well. This one appeared to be… gentler, wiser than the redhead. She appreciated those traits. They reminded her of her people. As the earlier adrenaline faded, she rose to her feet. She'd have to study this one more at a later date.

"Forgive me," she said, not sure if the tide of conversation had turned. But her behavior had been appalling and her training wouldn't let it pass without an apology. They received it as well as she'd anticipated – suspicious but accepting enough.

They exchanged introductions. The male she'd slapped was named Shulk, the mountain was Reyn, and the woman called herself Sharla. And the other male gave her a small, reassuring smile as he said his name. Dunban. She nearly frowned at the familiarity of it, but caught herself just in time. Her curiosity was piqued and, internally, she resolved to determine where she'd heard it before.

No time to think on it then, however, for the group launched into a description of their quest. Perhaps she had asked them to do so. She didn't remember.

"The Bionis Head?" she asked and they nodded confirmation. "Then I think I shall repay my debt to you by acting as your guide."

She knew the only path to the Head would take the foreigners through Eryth Sea – too close to her home for her liking. If she traveled with them, she could prevent them from bringing harm upon the capital and assess their trustworthiness.

Gesturing to the well-worn path, she said, "This will lead us to Frontier Village, home of the Nopon. From there, we shall be able to reach Eryth Sea."

Melia walked several feet ahead of the group. She tried not to look back at them too much for she was reluctant to offend them any further. Of course, she had pretended not to hear Sharla's comment about being 'high and mighty' and told herself she'd imagined the sarcasm in Dunban's voice as he addressed her as 'ladyship'. It was the least she could do. After all, they'd helped her in her time of need. And her first instinct had been to assault one of them…

As they walked, she kept her head up and her shoulders back – like a proper lady would – even though all she wished to do was curl up somewhere safe and mourn. The reality of her situation had crashed down on her once she realized the Homs posed no immediate threat. Her guards were dead. It was all her fault. The weight of that responsibility bore down upon her delicate frame, threatening to crush her into a despairing oblivion. Yet she struggled onwards, adamant in her judgement that such sorrow could not defeat her.

"You alright, Melia?"

She spun around and came face to face with Shulk. The Homs flinched, held up his arms as though to ward off a monster's attack.

"Please don't hit me again," he said, smiling for a reason that was unclear to her. "I just wanted to see how you're holding up. It looks like something's troubling you…"

"I'm fine," she replied. "Thank you."

She suspected that he wasn't satisfied with her answer, yet he didn't pry. He simply walked beside her for the remainder of their journey in amiable silence. And, despite her distrust of Homs men, she found that she was grateful for his presence. It was somewhat… comforting. It felt like he did not judge her as harshly as his friends did. Perhaps he meant to give her chance, thinking friendship could develop between them. She briefly wondered why her heart raced at the thought. How curious…

In the early afternoon, they arrived at the immense tree that contained the Frontier Village. Its thick branches stuck out in all directions and leafy, mossy tangles hung from them like the heavy curtains found in Alcamoth's royal bedrooms. The thought nearly made her shoulders slouch. She missed home, yet she feared how she would be received upon her return. The High Entia would despise her for the consequences of her shortcomings. Especially the men's families. How could she face them?

Her footsteps faltered, bringing her to a halt in the middle of the path. Reyn bumped into her but she scarcely noticed. Just that morning, she'd been standing there with Garan and Damil. She half expected to turn and they'd— She wrenched her eyes away.

She continued walking before her companions could question her. They strode up the path and encountered a gathering of Nopon. They shouted out their questions, their surprise at seeing 'Hom Hom' in this part of the Bionis. Melia might have laughed if she was not so encumbered by the dreadful events of the morning. But she was – bombarded by intrusive thoughts, using all her energy to keep herself from just breaking down.

She pushed to the front of the group, announced that she would very much like to meet the chief at his earliest convenience. Though her request was polite, her tone left no room for argument. The excitement dampened. Until the Nopon recognized her as the princess of the High Entia, of course. They practically stumbled over themselves to alert Chief Dunga once they realized. Not that she was complaining. It would be a blessing if she could part ways with the Homs quickly. And then what?

"Melia, my dear," Chief Dunga said as he approached her, his arms spread wide in welcome. A band of attendants trailed after him. He cast them a wary glance. "My heart is filled with joy at this reunion. But let us talk elsewhere. It's too open here."

"Yes, of course," she said, following him into the heart of Frontier Village.

They stopped just in front of the Sacred Fountain. For a moment, he left her waiting. Just long enough for her companions to gather around her. She clenched her teeth. The urge to check over her shoulder struck her like the butt of a spear, stealing her breath. How could she be certain that no harm would befall her while her back was turned? Out of principle alone, she kept her focus on the Nopon chief. She could trust him. He would tell her if… And yet, her heart hammered away.

He took another moment to study her. Then, seemingly satisfied, he nodded to himself. "You look well."

I suppose it's only natural for me to appear better than I feel… Melia thought, forcing a smile. "As do you, Chief Dunga. Thank you for being so kind as to have an audience with me." She gestured back to the Homs. Her hand trembled. "My companions seek passage through the Eryth Sea. It was my promise to them. I would be humbled if you should allow me to honor it."

"There is no problem with your request," he said. "But what of you?"

"I…" She had sounded so confident when she began, but she allowed herself to trail off. There was no answer to his question. Not exactly. Although she knew what she had to do, she wasn't sure if she could. If she'd failed with four seasoned warriors at her side, she stood no chance on her own.

But she had to try. No matter the cost. Hogard would've advised her to regroup in the capital. Put together another team, acquire better supplies. And Damil… He would've begged her to just run. She could almost hear his voice: Princess, let it be. Please.

"I had failed to think that far ahead," she continued. She feigned an embarrassed laugh, hiding her mouth behind her hand. Then her expression hardened. "Although, I believe there is something here that still requires my attention."

Without giving him the courteous farewell that he deserved, she whirled around and stalked off to the balcony on that floor. She needed time alone, time to deliberate her options. And right then seemed to be the only time she would get to herself before she was forced to decide. Her body pressed against the Nopon-made railing as she leaned into the breeze. It carried with it the scent of torch smoke and tree sap. A miniscule smile played at her lips. If only it could always be this way. On her own, enjoying scents and sounds of Makna Forest.

But somewhere in those dense trees, there hid a beast as frightening as the worst night-terrors. A beast that her father had tasked her with exterminating. It disturbed the peace of this place that she had fallen in love with over the years. And worse than that, it had murdered her men. The destruction would certainly continue if no one intervened. How many more people were to be felled by its fangs? How many more orphans and widows would be created due to her hesitation?

She couldn't go home until the Telethia was dead. She just couldn't.

The sound of footsteps reached her ears and she spun to face the intruder, hand flying to her staff. But it was only Shulk. She allowed her arm to drop back to her side. He smiled disarmingly as he approached.

"You don't have to go off on your own." He halted his advance a safe distance away. "You're welcome to stay with us. We'd love to have you."

Love. Such a strong word. It caused a strange ripple of emotion to pass through her. Could he have meant it? For a second, she almost accepted his invitation. But she found herself shaking her head.

"I cannot join you," she said, tilting her chin up, projecting her best princess voice. Perhaps that would do the trick. At the very least, it would help him remember that he found her haughty, annoying, insufferable. And if he still didn't rethink his offer… "There is unfinished business here."

"The Telethia."

Her eyes widened. Any warmth that she may have felt for him fled in the wake of suspicion. "How did you know about that?"

Over the next few minutes, Shulk explained what had happened after the group stumbled upon her in the forest. Every piece she had missed while in her state of unconsciousness. The ether crystals that revived her, the battle with the Telethia's offspring. As the story wore on, she thought about what it all meant, wondered if their meeting truly was an act of fate.

The other three entered into the conversation then. Each one hoping to convince her to accept their aid. And though she was flattered at their apparent concern, her own apprehension prevented her from agreeing immediately. Four men were already dead due to her incompetence. Good men. There would be no more casualties – that was her solemn vow. Indeed, that was a significant reason for her reluctance, yet it wasn't the only one. A small part of herself fretted over what her father would think when he learned that her quest had been completed by them.

Would he scorn her?

In the end, it was Chief Dunga who persuaded her to accept the Homs' assistance. He had a way of speaking, plain and outright. A voice that could only hold the truth in its unique tones.

Melia hovered behind the group as they went from shop to shop, purchasing rations and new equipment. She had no money of her own to spend; Aizel usually handled such things. He took to numbers like Wind Nebulae took to the breeze. It had surprised her when she'd learned, but she wasn't one to make comments. And she suspected that Hogard had been too relieved that he didn't have to do the math to say anything. The thought nearly made her laugh.

But then she remembered. They were gone. She would never hear Aizel rattle off calculations again. Never hear Hogard's teasing. Or Garan's perfect singing. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. She forced her attention back to the group of Homs before the loss could overwhelm her once more.

By then, her companions had finished their preparations. They bunched together, talking. She was too far away to hear what they were saying. Hopefully it was about the Telethia and not her. She resisted the urge to edge closer. Eavesdropping was a rude – albeit useful – hobby. They already thought poorly of her; she didn't need to make it worse…

Dunban broke away from his friends and joined her. "We're set to head out when you are." His words were slow, careful.

She tried not to read into his tone. Even so, she couldn't help but feel nervous. Why was he being so cautious with her? What was he hiding?

"I'm ready," she said, voice level, betraying none of her internal panic.

"You didn't buy anything." He didn't phrase it as a question. His eyes examined her reaction but, to her credit, she was sure she didn't give him one. Not even a flicker.

"Why were you watching me so closely?"

When he chuckled, she realized she should've put more of an edge to her question. He wouldn't have reacted so… flippantly if she had. Perhaps he mistook her reply as banter rather than a genuine request for information. She opened her mouth to correct him but stopped. He'd laughed. At something she said. No one had ever thought she was funny before. From her perspective, humor didn't matter much but few people shared that opinion. So maybe, just this once, it was okay to let it go.

"I meant nothing by it," he said. "Just want to be sure you're prepared."

She pursed her lips. The heat of embarrassment rose to her face and she angled her head so he wouldn't see. She could look after herself. She didn't need him doubting her capabilities. Especially not if they were to fight side by side. When she spoke, her voice was sharp. "I already said—"

"Right. Of course."

If he'd meant to match her attitude, he managed it perfectly. Her jaw nearly dropped. How dare he speak to her that way? And to interrupt her? She turned back to him, ready to reprimand him. But he was gone. Standing with his friends once more.

A bitterness flooded her mouth. She crossed her arms over her chest, glared at his back. Then the expression faded. What if he hadn't been insinuating that she was useless? Her initial reaction had been to defend herself from the perceived insult. But maybe… Maybe he'd been genuinely worried for her. Chagrin replaced the bitterness that had taken hold. This is why people didn't like her. The thought was a slap across the face.

Before she could recover, Shulk waved her over. She obeyed wordlessly and squeezed between him and Sharla. Distantly, she heard him discussing their next course of action. How to track down the Telethia. But she couldn't understand most of what he was saying. Her mind was whirring with doubts. Dunban hated her. They all did. The only reason they included her now was because they needed her. And once her usefulness ran out…

They didn't seem to notice that she wasn't listening. Or they didn't care. Her posture wilted as she followed them towards the entrance to Makna Forest.

The group had only reached the Sacred Altar when Chief Dunga stopped them. He insisted that they take the village's Heropon with them on their quest. Until that point, Melia hadn't been aware that Nopon could fall from the sky. Yet here this one was, dropping in on them from above, bouncing on their heads until they hit him away to the next person. He hopped to his feet once he landed and, as all the onlooking Nopon threw mushrooms at him, he introduced himself as Riki.

Soon after, the situation calmed down enough for them to leave the village. They traced their way along the winding paths of Makna Forest, seeking a large ether deposit. Such a place was the ideal location for the Telethia to heal its wounds. The injuries Melia had inflicted. Riki led the way; he knew the forest better than anyone. Which he reminded them of on many occasions during their short journey.

"Riki know forest like back of hand!" Riki boasted. "Debtors never find Riki here. One time—"

"Oi, furball," Reyn said as he trudged along behind the Heropon, "you've told us that story six times now. Give it a rest, will ya?"

"Reyn is liar," the Nopon said, bouncing down the trail backwards so he could make a disapproving face at the red-haired warrior. Then he turned around. "Riki have many, many stories with debtors. Riki's littlepon eat lots. Never leave monies for Riki. Maybe Reyn give Riki monies. Then Riki happy!"

He huffed a bit in response before mumbling, "I ain't giving you anything, freeloading…" The rest of his gripe was lost as his voice lowered.

"Quit your whining, Reyn," Sharla said, lightly punching his arm. He seemed to pout at her, as if he thought such an expression could obtain her favor. Instead, it awarded him another punch – this one harder than the last.

"Sharla!" he protested.

"She's right, Reyn," Dunban said from the back of the group. Melia couldn't keep herself from looking at him, curious. "We mustn't distract ourselves when we are so close to a dangerous foe."

His words almost made the Homs Entia girl smile triumphantly. Upon their first meeting, he'd been mysterious, something foreign, unknown. But she closed in on him as he made such a remark. The reasonable type, wise and mentor-like. Without a doubt, he prevented the group from pulling itself apart. It was consistent with her assessment in the village, that he was concerned for her wellbeing. And yet, Shulk was the one to make important decisions. So, who was the true leader?

As they neared the ether deposit, however, that question became a foggy memory as dread usurped its place in her mind. She could almost feel the Telethia closing in, its heavy wings throwing powerful gales against her body until she couldn't stand. Her eyes darted skyward. She searched intently but found nothing. No beast poised to descend on her. Not at that moment, anyway.

"Melia, are you alright?" Dunban asked as he appeared at her side.

She assumed he would be reluctant to approach her after she'd snapped at him. Perhaps it was his way of smoothing things over. Still, she was tempted to give him the cold shoulder.

"Yes," she said, nodding as if to convince herself that she was speaking the truth. "I am simply… eager for this fight to begin."

"I imagine you would be."

His words were not meant to sound malicious or in any way unkind – and, indeed, his voice was gentle when he spoke them – but Melia's heart dropped into her stomach. Her body reacted as if the man had threatened her. Heart racing, instinct fighting to take over. Attack him or run. Her head pounded, her thoughts screaming out warnings like a siren.

She swallowed hard and forced herself back into control. Dunban wasn't an enemy. He had no idea of her shortcomings, couldn't use them against her. The comment was innocent. She repeated these things to herself until she believed them. And after an eternity, she felt her heart rate slow.

"I'm certain that I'm not the only one," she said at last. Her voice remained level, no trace of residual panic seeping in.

Dunban merely smiled then moved to the front of the group, leaving Melia to stare after him, mystified. Perhaps she would need more time to figure him out. But, for the time being, she knew she couldn't distract herself with such trivial pursuits. There was a battle looming. And, this time, she would win. Or die trying.