The next morning conquered the Indoline island in company with a cloudburst. Large drops splashed against the apartment's windows, but they had no time to chase each other down the glass before the wind sent another torrent forward.
Shulk had given up on tinkering with the Monado REX+ about an hour before the dimness of the storm had replaced the dimness of the night. He had planned to apply what he had learned about the Indoline lighthouse technology and improve his ether fields. But the relay had weighed too heavy in his hands, and the soft clicks of rewired circuits had failed to drown out the silence of Dunban's door mechanism.
Dunban kept word and accompanied Shulk and Nene on their way to the sanctum's inner yard where Thanorlis had said to meet them. The katana hung poised at his side. Not once did he meet Shulk's eyes.
The crowd of children from the day before shunned the yard, which left Thanorlis as the single lonely figure in sight. As much as the rain-lashed lawns made for a miserable backdrop, he beamed as he saw Shulk and party approaching. Shulk observed his gestures, the gleam in his eyes, and the words he purposefully avoided during their meaningless chatter – and he hated himself for it. Nothing in Thanorlis' behaviour gave cause for suspicions. But the seed of doubt Dunban had sown had born fruit, and Shulk second-guessed, turning over every response Thanorlis gave twice in his head.
To no effect. Thanorlis behaved himself as the open and understanding Praetor from yesterday. Or maybe Shulk still closed his eyes to the alternative.
By now, he no longer cared. He almost yearned for the encounter with the Fogbeast.
Less than a minute after Shulk stepped out of the colonnade, his shirt stuck to his shoulders and dripped with water. Nene complained about the wasted effort she had put into grooming her fur and turned the path down the alleys and stairways into a game where she would hop from one roof overhang to the next. By the end, she was as drenched as the rest.
Although the path took turns and rounded chapels here and there, it did follow a steady decline. The farther they went, the fewer pedestrians roamed the streets, until even the insides of the limestone buildings showed no more signs of life.
Thanorlis slowed his steps. "This is the area the Fogbeast has claimed as its own," he said. "I'm afraid, I must confess that I have no fighting experience to speak of. For what comes next, I will be of little use to you. If one of you would be kind enough to take the lead…"
Shulk followed the invitation and unclipped the Monado from his back. As soon as his palm hugged the hilt, a blue glow spread across the weapon. Amidst the rain-tormented housing district, the Monado shed a comforting light.
Dunban and Nene followed Shulk's example and raised their weapons. Without the need to communicate, they fanned out; Dunban and Nene covered Shulk's flanks, and together they crept forward. Rain hammered against the limestone tiles, entire rivers rushed down the stairs, and yet the silience in Shulk's right ear was deafening. He tossed his head to the side more than once, convinced the sound of Dunban's boots had vanished down a different alleyway. But he always trod half a step behind Shulk, eyes set on the target.
Right. Shulk needed to remember his training.
With each step, the splat of their feet rang through the street. Too loud. Fogbeasts had shown no particular sound sensitivity in the past. But the constant splashing, splatter, and pitter-patter in his good ear made it more difficult for Shulk to tell whether the enemy waited nearby.
The air stiffened. It was close; the presence, this unnatural feeling as if all oxygen stole away at once. The Monado burned under Shulk's fingertips.
He pushed forward. A few more steps, another corner, and the pressure on his lungs intensified a hundredfold.
Wafts of black fog clouded the plaza ahead. The battlefield couldn't have provided worse conditions; high buildings all around, no cover to speak off, uneven steps. And everywhere the fog. It clawed at the nearby door entrances, slithering and snaking, desperate to consume. The stench of decay spread across the plaza. And in the epicentre of the dark infection cowered the Fogbeast. Its shape lost itself in the myriad of shadows; Shulk couldn't make out what creature the fog had possessed this time. He steadied himself for the attack.
The Fogbeast howled, and the shadows shot forward. Shulk darted sideways, vaulted a second fog arm; predictable enough. But the attack punctured their formation. Dunban and Nene retreated to opposite ends of the battlefield, coverless.
Shulk's heel struck a limestone step. Withdrawing would do him no good, he needed to get close enough to summon the ether field, close enough for the fog to plaster his nose.
The shapeless shadows reached out with uncounted hands, Thanorlis stumbled for the upwards stairs, and Shulk charged. He severed a wavering finger, then another one, dismembered the Fogbeast like an uncomplacent machine.
The shadowy limbs re-emerged a heartbeat later. The perverted ether hammered against Shulk's chest. A brief opening; he raised the Monado to create the ether field.
Then the Fogbeast stood up. Its head turned to face Shulk, and an unnatural wail escaped from the depths of the creature.
But it wasn't a creature. The shape matched that of an Indoline – or a Homs. The fog had mutilated arms and legs, and all defining features of the face had long since disappeared. But the resemblance was undeniable.
Shulk forgot to breathe. His hands trembled. Frozen in place he stared at the being in the shape of a Homs.
Theories erupted in his head, and all of them screamed at him at once. Had the Fogbeasts learned to mimic people, had they evolved into these perversions in an environment with reduced ether? Was it all a cruel trick from a god after all? Or was this the Fogbeast's true appearance?
Shulk stared, and the darkness stared back. The Fogbeast tilted its head as if curious about Shulk's intentions.
Then it let out another rage-filled howl, and the sound, so Homs-like and yet distorted past the point of saving, reverberated through Shulk, immobilised him, frightened him to the core, dragged all his regrets to the forefront in mockery of his failures.
He couldn't move.
"Look out!" Dunban shouted.
A fog arm knocked Shulk over. His head crashed onto the plaza tiles; his ears were ringing. But the howls of the Fogbeast persisted. They roared louder and louder through the insides of his skull, unrelenting, merciless.
Shulk climbed to his knees, swaying, barely held upright by the Monado. The Fogbeast advanced to the upwards stairs, to the thousands of defenceless Indoline. The ether field in the lighthouse wouldn't deter it, not when there was so much life in the city to feast on.
While Dunban fended off the dark creature's tentacles, Nene tried in vain to shield Thanorlis from the onslaught. One burst of fog after the other punctured the steps next to her, splinters sailed, and the smell of scorched fur joined the Fogbeast's acid stench. If Nene bore the barrage of attacks for much longer, her club would shatter, and she with it.
She would die like Teelan.
Like Fiora.
"Shulk!" Dunban cut through the wafts of fog, but they reformed a second later. "You have to create the ether field. Now!"
But the Monado weighed a hundred tons in Shulk's hand. The blade, forged out of pure blue energy, trembled. What if the Fogbeast was a Homs? Why else should it take this form?
He hadn't seen it. Once again blind, he had stumbled forward to meet the black, unfeeling face of the future.
Nene squealed. The fog shattered her defence, knocked both her and Thanorlis from their feet. Agony distorted her face; she swayed. The fog arms reached out, clawed for the warmth of life, for the lively beating of a heart itself didn't possess. Thanorlis gaped at the shadows, unable to defend himself. Soon the arms would wrap around him and tear him apart to satiate the Fogbeast's hunger.
The creature howled.
Nene jumped and blocked the attack meant for Thanorlis. Even though she staggered more than she stood, even though she was wounded, and even though she hardly knew him, she stood her ground and defended Thanorlis with her life.
"Get away from there, Nene!" Dunban fought to reach her, but arm after arm after arm, the Fogbeast blocked his path. Soon he would run out of space to evade. "It will kill you!"
Nene didn't budge. Her eyes burned with conviction as blow after blow hammered against her club. And for once, Shulk knew what her expression said.
That is heropon way.
Shulk dug his nails into the Monado's hilt, begged for a vision, anything that could help him win. Nothing. Only the rainsoaked battlefield flickered before his eyes.
Dunban managed three steps in Nene's direction. Then the counterattack hit him. One fog arm pressed him against a wall, another knocked the katana out of his hand. It lodged into the ground, out of reach.
Still no vision. The weapon built to mimick the original Monado, the sword with the power to glimpse the future, lay in Shulk's hand, and yet he was powerless to use it, even as his hand cramped around the metal. And another fog arm snaked forward to end Dunban.
Shulk stared, and the darkness stared back. The Fogbeast tilted its head, a movement so awfully Homs-like.
Then Shulk losened his grip, and suddenly he saw clear.
The Monado awoke in his hand as if from a deep slumber. Its ether circuits droned, the exhaust pipes spat blue light, and the energy flowing through Shulk knew no equal, streamed into his core and back out until he himself became a circuit for the ether currents.
The Fogbeast recoiled.
But Shulk no longer hesitated. He let go of the Monado.
"Dunban!"
Dunban's head jerked just in time, he reached out and caught the Monado. And as soon as his fingers touched the weapon, its ether output multiplied tenfold. Shulk felt its pulse in his veins, the indescribable connection between him and Dunban through the Monado, as though they had learned to breathe and turn as two gears in sync.
Mabye a thought from Shulk pushed him, or maybe Dunban acted on instinct. With a spin of the Monado, he released the ether, and it spread across the plaza as a purifying fire. Blue light purged the darkness. The fog at the edges dissipated until the black creature alone remained. The rain, which until now had vaporised before it touched the Fogbeast, splashed against its head.
Nene staggered and fought for breath as the fog arms recoiled. Once more the enemy tried to lunge for her.
But Dunban reached her first. A thought, a tugging of ether, and the Monado birthed a shield of pure light. The Fogbeast crashed against the barrier in vain. Under howls it retreated, and the fog curled around its form, full of hunger, full of rage.
Shulk caughed Dunban's eyes. They nodded.
"Never thought I'd see the day where I would use one of these again," Dunban said and raised the Monado. "Let's try this one more time, shall we?"
Nene, although bruised and breathless, steeled the grip around her club. Shulk soaked in a lungful of ether. And as one, the party of three attacked.
The Fogbeast stood no chance. It doubled its efforts, it clawed and it sent out shockwaves of fog to halt their advance, but it stood alone against three opponents. Shulk sumersaulted a relentless arm, Dunban slashed through another, and the Monado passed between them, faster and faster, until they stopped calling and already stretched out a hand before the other tensed to throw the sword. Where Dunban struck high, Shulk aimed low for a combination the Fogbeast had no hopes to counter. When one of them threatened to stumble under the blows of too many fog arms, Nene distracted the creature.
The Monado swirled and slashed, a blue light dancing through the dark. Shulk guided his weapon with a certainty he hadn't felt in years, followed the beat of Dunban's fighting style until past and future ceased to exist and he became one with the moment.
Their training over the past weeks helped Shulk to harmonise with each of Dunban's moves, but what he felt reached so far deeper than that. Dizzying and nostalgic at the same time. A true Monado burned deep within, at the cusp of his fingertips.
The Fogbeast withered. Nene swung at it, Shulk hacked through the fog arms, and suddenly, the creature's weak point stood wide open. Only a handful of steps separated Dunban from the enemy.
Shulk hesitated for one hartbeat, the Monado heavy in his hand. He should hate the Fogbeast, this amalgamation of rage, this perversion of life, the manifestation of what should not exist. One of its kind had killed Teelan, another held responsibility for Fiora's death. Shulk had every reason to hate them all. But when he looked at the creature as it cowered in fear of the final blow, he merely regretted. The featureless head, so awefully Homs-like, met his gaze.
With his next breath, he let go of the Monado, and Dunban caught it midair. Face to face he stood with the creature, and the ether pulsated all the more brightly. He paused, or maybe Shulk's hesitation convinced him to offer the creature one last chance to yield. The raindrops evaporated as they came near the Monado's blade. Fine steam curled skywards.
The Fogbeast roared and lunged for Nene, angry at the world beyond reason, poisoned by its hunger beyond saving.
Then it melted. The Monado had cut straight through its body.
A drawn-out moan escaped the Fogbeast as it crumbled. The fog dissipated, and in the silence after the enemy's last breath, the rain pattered all the louder against the limestone tiles. The Monado snapped shut, the dizzying feeling from before retreated, and Dunban handed the weapon back to Shulk.
It was over.
"Nene thinks Nene will go to sleep now. Everything so very cold…"
Shulk whirled around. His vision shrunk to a tunnel.
No, no, no, NO!
Nene slumped. One of her wings hung limply, and her breath came in short, uneven bursts.
"NENE!" Dunban shoved past Shulk, eyes wide, almost manic in his attempt to reach Nene's side. He picked her up and cradled her in his arms.
"It okay, Mister Dundun. Nene just need some shuteye. Broken wing not big enough deal to bring Nene five feet under." She cuddled to his shoulder.
Shulk choked on his relief.
"You idiot!" Dunban looked caught somewhere between laughing and crying. "I told you, you should get away from there!"
"Dadapon Riki and Kino would give Nene big scolding if let friends get hurt. And everything work out like master plan, not so? Mister Dundun and Mister Shulk have to teach Nene super-amazing combo attack. Nene still here to complain about broken wing thanks to Mister Dundun. Hero-hom save the day!"
Dunban threw Shulk a look, heavy with soundless thankfulness. "So it seems."
And although Shulk struggled to discern every piece of Dunban's expression, he was optimistic that they had overcome their fight from yesterday, just as they had overcome the Fogbeast. They had taken one step on this path, at least.
Nene wriggled in Dunban's arms. "Mister Than-Than alright too?"
"Thanks to you," Thanorlis said. A thunderstorm seemed to have blown through his robes, and he wobbled towards them with rickety steps. "I don't even know where to begin to thank you."
"Do you have a healer or a doctor where we can take her?" Shulk asked.
"Yes." Thanorlis looked back and forth between Nene and the place where the Fogbeast had hovered a moment before. Only with trouble did he regain his senses. "Yes, of course, follow me."
Thanorlis took the lead and Dunban followed with Nene in his arms. Shulk threw a look over his shoulder, but the Fogbeast had disappeared without a trace. As if it had never belonged to this world.
This world stole the ether from Melia's hands with every acid breath she took. She slipped and almost bit into her tongue. The elemental orbs swirling around her staff radiated a weak glow. The tiny light sources had little hopes of persevering against the darkness wafting all across the beach near Colony 9, and yet they drained Melia to the point where her legs could barely support another step on the slippery sand.
Shulk had drawn the right conclusions from his research. The ether she could use and reshape was fading.
The Fogbeast roared, and Reyn cursed as his gunlance passed through one of its arms without leaving as little as a dent in the creature's defence. Kino aimed at its opposite flank, but his ether bullet disappeared in the fog before it reached the possessed Armu at its centre. And still more parts of the battlefield succumbed to the Fogbeast's merciless claws.
In a moment of weakness, Melia would have traded even her empress title for the warm glow of an ether field under their feet. But such was wishful thinking. The residents of Colony 9 in their huddled houses only a stone's throw away depended on her. She merely needed to do more.
The few specks of ether Melia could amass burned in her veins, and she released the energy all at once. Light swallowed the Fogbeast, and the shadows retreated for one precious moment. The salty scent of an ocean breeze replaced the soot of poisoned fog.
Reyn ceased the opportunity and swiped the Armu from its feet before Kino dispelled the remaining fog with an ether attack of his own. Sunlight at last winked behind a fine-weather cloud to bathe the beach in friendlier hues.
When Melia took in a shaky breath, she could swear the people of Colony 9 behind her did so as well. They had won another battle and had bought their families and friends another handful of undisturbed days. Was this alone not worth any sacrifice?
"I hate these things," Reyn said and tapped the Armu with his weapon. It did not stir. "Where's the stupid Monado when you need it?"
Melia leaned against her staff for support, but her hands threatened to slide down the metal. The beach still spun before her eyes. "I should not have involved you," she said between raspy breaths. "My apologies."
Then her knees gave in, and her face would have sunk into the sand if Reyn hadn't grabbed her arm in time.
"You're one to talk," he said. "This was, what, the third Fogbeast in two months? Do I even want to know how you defeated the other two all by yourself?"
Melia forced a deep breath, with no more than an aftertaste of fog, into her lungs and straightened. Although she could not deny how much she needed to cling to Reyn's arm to perform the action. The Fogbeast that had killed Teelan had indeed been no outlier or simple relic of that time from twelve years ago. One of its brethren had appeared between the abandoned stone husks of Gran Dell, twice as relentless and eager to destroy. Tyrea had fumed when she had found out that Melia had engaged the Fogbeast alone, but even then the ether had bent more willingly under Melia's command. Attacks that had required little effort then, stole every bit of energy she had to give now.
She was so tired.
"Perhaps it would have been better had I continue with that strategy," she said. "Then you would not have been wounded."
Reyn rolled his arm back in effort to hide the torn skin where the Fogbeast had thrown him against the nearby cliff. "That little scratch won't kill me," he said. "This is why I married a doctor. I'm gonna swing by the surgery on my way home, so you can stop giving me that look like I'm the one being unreasonable here. Although I don't wanna leave the girls in Riki's care for too long. He's only gonna ruin them."
Kino hopped towards them. His steps lacked a little of their energetic bounce, but he had survived the Fogbeast attack unharmed, and for this Melia could only be thankful.
"Not to worry, heropon Kino here to save the day."
He raised his wooden ether rifle and shot a burst of colourful specks into the air, which soon drifted downward to envelope the three of them. Warmth spread from where the healing ether met Melia's arms, and a little part of the energy she had deployed returned to her to allow for even breaths. The sand under her boots no longer seemed intent on swallowing her whole.
"Neat trick," Reyn said. "You could stick around as a fighting partner more often. If the great heropon isn't too busy paying off his debts after polishing off a year's worth of the Colony's supply of sweet wasabi, that is."
Kino said nothing. Instead, he regarded Reyn's shield-gunlance with an intensity to suggest he saw through the metal to look at something else, the weapon's wooden twin far further out of reach.
Reyn nudged Kino with his boot. "What are you gawking at, furball?"
"Plan to sneak into sweet wasabi storage was Nene's," Kino said dug a furrow through the sand with a restless wing.
Melia knelt down and stroked his neck fur. The terrible loneliness that defied words threatened to spread from Kino to her, forcing her to consider the what-ifs, and she needed all her might to focus on the bustle of people as they returned to the shopping district of Colony 9. She needed to do more for them. After all, no one could predict when the next Fogbeast might strike.
"Yeah, it seems our team's experiencing a serious mass desertion. Dunban really started a trend there." Reyn glared at the remains of the Armu. "And with the worst possible timing too. Any more of these fog-things, and I'm gonna lose it. Haven't we earned ourselves some peace and quiet by now?"
"Nothing could be further from my mind than to force you into another battle against your will," Melia said.
Reyn shook his head. "Nah, forget it, I can use the exercise. It's just that I thought we were done with the Fogbeasts."
"Yes. We all did."
"When it rain, it pour purple Nebula," Kino said.
"You can say that again." Reyn let his eyes drift down the length of the beach. In the far distance gaped a hole in the cliffside, a new entrance into the ether mines of Colony 9. "The last accident happened less than a week ago, and now we get an angry Fogbeast on top. No wonder I hardly have a chance to drag Sharla out of the surgery for more than an evening at a time."
Melia followed Reyn's gaze. "What happened?"
"An accident with one of drilling machines they use to mine ether these days. If they're not careful, they will turn the entire cliff into one of those holey cheeses from Gran Dell. Well, this time, the plan blew up in their faces. Literally. When the machine exploded, it shredded five workers on the spot. You can imagine Sharla's reaction when the sixth one died on her operating table. The whole thing happened just a short walk further down the beach. And now we got the Fogbeast as dessert."
Melia increased the grip around her staff. What Shulk had predicted was happening already, and so much sooner than she had feared. This world, how limited was the time it granted them truly?
Despite the weakness of her legs, Melia forced herself to stand. "Did the machine with the malfunction rely on ether to carry out its duty?"
Reyn frowned. "Sure, I think they all do. Why?"
"I cannot say for certain. But could you perhaps avoid spending unnecessary lengths of time nearby ether-based machinery for a while? And please tell Sharla and the children to be careful as well."
"Okay… whatever you say. Should I be concerned?"
"No, I… I'm sure it is nothing. I will find a way to circumvent it, should there indeed be a problem. Thank you for your aid against the Fogbeast."
Melia turned to head back to the jetty where Junks' metal gleam waited for her. The next crisis meeting in Alcamoth was scheduled three hours from now, but perhaps she could find a moment to reexamine Shulk's research notes during the flight home. Even if she had little hope of making sense of the technical details. She would have to do more reading. Do more, do more, do…
"It's more like I called you down from Alcamoth to lend the Colony a hand, but whatever." Reyn crossed his arms. "I know you're stressed out, but you're taking all of this way too close to heart. Try to breathe once in a while. We're all here for you and each other, you hear?"
"Kino here for Miss Melly too!"
"There you have it. And if it's about Shulk and the others, I'm sure they're fine. We're the ones with the Fogbeasts breathing down our necks. The cost will be all clear for them."
"Yes," Melia said, "I'm sure you are right."
But as she made her way to Junks, her march half broken by too many slips, she could not help but doubt. In this world, perhaps it was too much to ask for anyone to be fine for long.
Although the Indoline doctor confirmed that Nene's broken wing would heal without complications, Dunban stayed at her bedside. No amount of persuasion and threats from the hospital staff convinced him to leave her out of his sight.
After a short exchange with the doctor, Shulk left the two of them. Without a goal in mind, he wandered through the long hall of the medical bay, past countless sterile beds where patients slept or tossed or curled themselves into balls under the white sheets. One commonality united them all: malnutrition. Under the weight of their emaciated bodies, many of the Indoline could not even raise their eyes as Shulk walked past. Nutritive fluids dripped from transparent bags into many a cannula attached to the patients' arms. But this measure only delayed the inevitable. The need for the nutritive fluids would soon outmatch the reserves, if it did not already.
As Dunban had said: the Indoline were starving.
They had lived in this world long before the fall of Bionis, long before Shulk had made his wish. But now they stood at the brink of complete ruin. Maybe they would outlive the Bionis' Shoulder by a year or two. Maybe famine would ravage them before the ocean swallowed the rest of their island. And Shulk couldn't help but wonder if he held responsibility for their bleak future.
After all, the flow of ether, like a fragile machine, could be disrupted in its workings so easily. The teleportation of Colony 9 and other parts of Bionis from the old world into the new one had upset the balance. Irreparably. And who was to say this unbalance had no connection to the rift from which the Fogbeasts drew their power, and who could know for certain whether the sea level hadn't risen because of a sudden increase in ether?
As the moans and the whimpering and the dripping of nutritive fluids rained down on Shulk, he hated what he had created. More with each breath of sterile, short-lived air.
And if Alvis had materialised beside him, and if he had whispered, "Do you wish to change it? The future?" – Shulk would have smashed everything, this whole forsaken world to pieces, with his own hands if necessary.
But the Monado replica remained cold on his back, and the moment of wishful thinking passed.
Thanorlis stood at the bed of an Indoline child. By the looks, the boy was the same age as Aaron, and his small fingers clutched Thanorlis' hand. Pleas and reassurances passed between them. No matter how hollow Thanorlis' words might sound, they smoothed the lines starvation had carved into the boy's face. He could have been Thanorlis own son or a nameless child from the crowd whose path he might never again cross. Little did it matter.
Shulk approached the pair.
"Ah, Shulk, I hoped I could speak to you," Thanorlis said. He gently opened the boy's grip around his hand. "Would you excuse us for a moment? A nurse will shortly be with you. Until then, try to sleep. Maybe you will revisit the dream you told me about. Will you do that for me?"
The boy nodded and rolled onto his stomach to better bear the hunger. His eyes closed, and maybe he would truly find relief in sleep.
"May we walk for a bit?" Thanorlis asked. He gestured Shulk to follow him, and together they meandered along the rows of hospital beds.
"I owe you my thanks," Thanorlis continued. "You and your friend Nene in particular. Not only did you defeat the Fogbeast, you also saved my life. The Indoline Praetorium is indebted to you."
Looking at the countless ailing patients, Shulk doubted anyone could feel indebted to him. Not when he might have played a part in summoning their undoing. "Did all the Fogbeasts you encounter take the form of a person?" he asked.
"Certainly, all of them resembled the one you fought. Is that surprising to you?"
"I don't know anymore."
"Well, either way, you defeated the creature. If I had not been occupied fearing for my life, I would have found the way you and Dunban wield this sword quite impressive. With such a technique, I'm sure you are able to defend your people against all threats." Thanorlis' eyes travelled across the row of patients that seemed to stretch to infinity. "I envy you."
Shulk followed his gaze. "Your people are starving, aren't they?"
A sad smile twisted Thanorlis' lip. "I suppose any attempt to hide the truth is rather pointless. Since the consequences of the famine stare us in the face so clearly. Yes, it is true, we do not possess the means to feed our starving children. Not anymore. A few years ago, this capital stood at the top of a mountain, and lush green hills sloped to the sea. The ocean has since swallowed the crop land. And although we have tried, plants would not grow on the chalk rock on which we built this city. Few Indoline knew how to fish, and anyway the sparse barrels they bring home are not enough to feed all the hungry mouths you see here. The Indoline Praetorium stands at the brink of ruin. But I reckon you know this already?"
"Dunban figured most of it out."
"And although you knew I was withholding information, you fought for us. Why?"
Shulk met Thanorlis' gaze. "You needed help. It was the right thing to do."
"You astound me yet again. Do all Homs share your kindness?"
"You can't assign a character trait to all individuals of a culture, or even a village. They are all different. Just like every machine is different. Sometimes a screw is made from a different alloy, or a tube was sanded differently. I have met kind Homs and traitorous Homs. It's the same for Indoline, isn't it?"
"Indeed it is," Thanorlis said. But the joy quickly faded from his face. "In this case, I should rather count myself among the traitorous kind…"
He reached into the depths of his robes and pulled out a small metal cylinder. As if the item could burn him, he dropped it into Shulk's open palm. The light from the blue-tainted windows flitted across the polished surface.
Shulk recognised the cylinder but feigned ignorance. "What is this?"
"The data crystal you brought with you. I had it removed from your ship. I believe you can guess my reasoning."
"You need the coordinates to find the Bionis' Shoulder. A new home for your people."
"Precisely. But I didn't intend to share this land in the clouds with your people. I wanted to take it by force, even at the risk of sending untrained Indoline against an army of ether wielders. As I told you, I would have done everything to ensure that my people will have a future. You may have noticed the difficult terrain on which you fought the Fogbeast. I arranged it this way. In truth, I fully expected you three to die at the hands of the Fogbeast, and with these coordinates and your ship as a base model, I would have set the invasion into motion."
Shulk tossed the data cylinder in his hand. Then he looked up at Thanorlis. "Why are you telling me this? If you had carried out the plan, I would have been unable to stop you."
"I can't." Thanorlis ran his hand along the foot end of a patient bed before his fingers clawed around the strut as if in search for support. "How could I continue now? It turns out, I do not have the strength to do whatever necessary for the benefit of my people. If I am the chosen leader of the Indoline Praetorium in these dark times, fate made a poor choice. I cannot do what is necessary. That is why I want you to take the cylinder back. Don't worry, I made no copies."
"What made you change your mind?"
"Isn't it obvious? You. Nene. What all three of you did to help us. I owe you my life. And even if I have not been thus far, I want to repay you by being honest with you now. Please take the coordinates back. For as long as Nene recovers, we will serve you to the best of our abilities."
"I can't accept that," Shulk said. "You barely have enough yourself."
"It is the least I can do. In truth, I too have an interest in the continuation of your journey. If it is not too bold a request to make, and if you find other inhabitable islands on your way, please share the coordinates with us. It is more than we deserve, certainly, after we deceived you. But I implore you nonetheless."
Shulk regarded the cylinder, this small metal object that held the map homewards. For him, it meant the return to a place he had run away from to chase after ghosts and answers. For Thanorlis, the data crystal contained the key to his people's future, a future he had thought lost, all but drowned in the rising currents of the ocean.
Shulk extended his hand, and in his open palm, the cylinder gleamed. "I invited you to Colony 9," he said. "The offer still stands."
Thanorlis shook his head. "How can you say this? I intended to betray you. I did go as far as to steal from you, and your friend was hurt because of me. Then why…"
"Nene jumped in to protect you because she believed it was the right thing to do. She would have done the same for anyone. That's the kind of person she is, and seeing her stick to those ideals gives me strength too."
"Still, I am unworthy of your trust." Thanorlis reached out for the crystal but stopped his hand halfway through. "Don't you worry that I will invade your home after all?"
"No. You told me about your plan and that you gave up on it. That's enough for me to trust you."
Thanorlis shook his head with a smile. "You really are something else."
"But for the sake of fairness, I have to warn you. The Bionis' Shoulder isn't the paradise you envisioned. It's falling apart. I don't know how much of it will remain when you arrive there. And I can't promise that you will find the help for your people you need. But I know people there who will welcome you."
Reyn would invent new curses and complain the entire time, but in the end, he would open his house to those in need. The thought brought a smile to Shulk's lips. Sharla would complain too, about the Indoline's poor health condition, and urge Reyn to use the biggest pot to cook stew. And Melia… Melia would worry for these people like she worried for the High Entia. And maybe, she could offer them a glimmer of hope too.
"These people," Thanorlis said, "are they your friends as well?"
Shulk paused for half a heartbeat. "My… family."
"I understand. Then I need to be all the more thankful to you." Thanorlis closed Shulk's hand around the data crystal. "Hold onto the coordinates for me for a while. You can give them to me when you continue your journey. If you want to continue, that is."
Shulk threw a look at where Nene snuggled amidst a mountain of pillows at the far end of the hall. With an angry flap of her unbroken wing, she complained about Dunban's clumsy attempts to untangle her pigtails. He grumbled something about the difficulties of unwanted one-handedness, but he couldn't hide his smile. Their world too was running out of time. With Fogbeasts and the disappearance of ether, with a rising ocean and a collapsing sky, how many of these moments did they still have? They deserved a better world. They all did.
"I have to continue," Shulk said. "But I still don't know where to start looking for the place in the mural…"
"I may be of help there," Thanorlis said. "We agreed on a trade yesterday, didn't we? The conditions might have changed, but the least I can do in exchange for your coordinates is give you a direction in your search for answers."
A warm shudder befell Shulk. Almost like a taste of the real, hopeful future. "You know where that place is?"
"The seer didn't leave behind coordinates. But we have preserved information about the seas you have to cross to reach the place in the mural. I will make sure you gain access to the records in the sanctum."
"That's… I don't know how to thank you."
Thanorlis shook his head. "The small atonement of a foolish politician. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to thank Nene as well."
"Good luck. You will need it if you want to get past Dunban."
Thanorlis laughed. "I can hardly blame him for his animosity. But putting myself in range of his sword is the least I owe Nene." He turned to leave. "Farewell, Shulk. I hope you will find your answers. If we ever meet again, let me know how it feels like to be chosen."
With these words, Thanorlis picked up pace and marched towards Nene's bed. Dunban's death glares only slowed his steps a little. Otherwise he carried his title as Praetor with a more relaxed ease than ever, and the aura of reassurance he oozed, this aura so reminiscent of Dunban, captured the hearts of the patients he passed, so that for a moment they forgot the ailing of their body.
How strange to think that this man struggled with doubts too.
Shulk fidgeted with the data crystal. It contained the path home, carefully recorded in a table of the Havre's speed, course corrections, and energy consumption.
But it wasn't time to go home yet.
03/08/22: What a bizarre feeling to edit this while being able to play Xenoblade Chronicles 3. And even more bizarre is the fact that a cutscene in the second chapter included "worlds apart" as part of a character's voice line. I couldn't believe my ears. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It underwent a rather serious rewrite, and I like to think those changes are for the better rather than just making it longer. You'll be the judge on that.