Charles kept a close eye on Bayan the whole time they were at the market that day. Bayan turned out to be a careful, expert salesman, taking each item in turn to the merchant most likely to buy it. He showed no sign of illness. But Charles studied him, anyway, sometimes closing his eyes to sense his companion's life energy.
The aether in Gridania was rich and varied, full of unexpected eddies and strange flavors. Charles traveled there whenever the aether of Bentbranch had grown too stale for his taste. Bayan's aether stood out the way most Auri did, like a flame of vitality. Laced into it was a flavor of shadow, like tea leaves left to steep too long. Charles puzzled over this as they prowled the noisy, busy market. He had sensed that darkness when Bayan had fought the Ixel, but not in the fight with the lindwyrm. That shadow seemed linked to whatever he had purged off Bayan. He hesitated to think the word voidsent, but it felt like a demon from the netherworld. Calling it a parasite was accurate enough not to raise undue alarm. Was Bayan drawing strength from the void in battle? That was dangerous stuff.
By that afternoon, Bayan had sold the extra supplies and made a tidy pile of gil. He kept back the best food for their own use.
"After all," Bayan said as he and Charles left the market on the cart, "we will have need of food supplies in the Sylphlands."
"Yes, I've heard the stories," Charles said. "It's a bewildering forest of dangerous beasts, and the sylphs, themselves, are unfriendly to strangers. What needs slaying?"
"A particular oversized funguar," said Bayan. "The bounty says nothing else, but it was posted two months ago. Nobody wants this job."
"I wonder why," Charles muttered.
As they walked into the common room of the Carline Canopy Inn, one of the Miqo'te girls from the previous night dashed up to them. She ignored Charles and went straight to Bayan, grabbing his hand. "There you are! We were hoping you'd come back! Come over here! See, we're helping you out!"
Bayan tried to extract his hand from her grasp, but she held on. She tugged him toward where the other cat girls were gathered around a notice board on the far wall. "Help," said Bayan to Charles, before he was mercilessly dragged across the room. He was instantly enveloped in giggling girls, all pointing to the notice board.
Charles trailed behind, trying not to laugh. Bayan stood among the girls like a huge dark tree among a field of waving grass blades. A tree that didn't want to be there. Charles peered over their heads, then hurriedly turned away so they wouldn't see him guffaw.
The girls had spent the day drawing up a beautiful advertisement on a huge piece of parchment. "Au Ra Xaela warrior seeking his fated Bride! Must be Auri, of Raen descent. Are you looking for your strong, dark, handsome husband to be? Look no further than Bayan Avagnar! Slayer of lindwyrms, wielder of greatsword, Bayan makes a romantic catch for the adventurous woman. Contact Stacey, Lucille, or Becky to arrange a meeting."
"Oh gods, why?" Bayan exclaimed, his voice carrying through the whole common room.
The entire room seemed filled with people who had been waiting for this very moment. It erupted into a roar of laughter. People pounded tables and fell about, clinging to each other.
Bayan freed himself from the crowd and fled up the stairs to the safety of his room. The crowd laughed even louder.
Charles unobtrusively slipped into a corner table, where a woman sat with a cup of tea. She was watching the drama with a smile, but not laughing.
"Mind if I sit here?" Charles asked under cover of the noise.
She gestured to a free chair. "Be my guest, sir."
He sat with his back to the room. "They'll be after me, next. I'd leave, but I really want some supper."
"Me, too," said the woman. She was a pretty young woman in a peasants' tunic with a red shawl over her head. But her green cat-eyes gave her away as a Miqo'te. The shawl must conceal her ears. She went on, "Tonight's special is smoked venison, and that's my favorite. Do you think your poor Auri friend will be able to eat?"
"Not with this crowd," said Charles, peering around for a serving girl. There were none in sight, meaning the kitchen hadn't started serving dinner yet. "I'll take him a plate. Why would those girls do that?"
"I think they're sincerely trying to help," the woman said. "It's just that the rest of the inn thought it was a great joke." She extended a hand across the table. "I am Zana Elakha."
Charles shook her hand. "Charles Whitmore. I take it you're a Keeper of the Moon tribe?"
Zana shrugged. "My family settled in the Black Shroud and only hold loosely to the old customs. We breed chocobos and train them to fight."
"Oh, I know your family," said Charles. "I've always wanted to take my chocobo through their training school, but I've been too busy with my White Mage duties."
"It does take time to train your bird," said Zana. "Oh no, here comes the crowd. Look busy."
Charles whipped out his healer's rod and pretended to be fixing a loose fitting around the gem on the end.
The Miqo'te girls who had tormented Bayan had spotted the healer. They gathered around the table, giggling. "Hey, Charles," one of them said. "You let us know if Bayan finds a girl, all right? He's handsome, in a scaly sort of way."
Another girl leaned over him, her hair swinging in his face. "What about you, healer? Have you found a girl yet?" They all looked expectantly at Zana.
"Well, I–I–" Charles stammered.
"Yes, actually," said Zana, meeting their gazes coolly. "I've asked him on a date this very evening. Keeper of the moon thing, you know. We females take the lead in these matters."
"But he's not Miqo'te," one of the other catgirls protested. "We're Moon, too, and Hyur barely understand our customs. Shouldn't he ask you?"
Charles gave her a cornered look.
"I asked him and he acquiesced," said Zana smoothly. "Nothing to worry about. Now, go bother someone else. The poor man will be too nervous to eat at this rate."
The girls glared at one another in some kind of Miqo'te dominance display. Then the other girls walked off, taking a table across the room.
"Thanks," Charles said with a huge sigh of relief. He set his rod carefully beside his chair. "You weren't … actually serious. About dating. Right?"
"I could be," said Zana.
He looked up to find her gazing at him inscrutably, like a cat watching something it found strange and fascinating.
Charles gulped. "I wasn't … I mean …"
"Spit it out," she said, unblinking.
He exhaled and tried to figure out what to say without coming across as incredibly offensive. "I … didn't think the Moon tribe kept men around. So there's really no point in dating with a long-term relationship in mind."
"Oh? You're looking for long-term?" said Zana. "That's interesting." She kept staring at him.
"I'm a Hyur," he said. "We mate for life." He tried to soften this statement with a shrug.
Zana slowly smiled, her pupils dilating, giving her a softer, friendly look, and less like a hunting cat. "Not all Hyur. But you're a family man, I can see already. My family would not approve of me marrying a Hyur and living with him, you know. We tend to live with our mothers and sisters."
"I know," said Charles. The desire to escape from this table and conversation was growing stronger and stronger. He was afraid if he sat here much longer, he would somehow agree to marry this cat girl, and he wasn't ready.
"I'm in the market for a mate, myself," said Zana thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her chin. "I've always envied women who lived with their husbands. Seems to me the romance keeps on shining, instead of flashing and burning out, like a falling star. It's something to think about." She smiled. "Will you promise to not marry someone else, say, for a month? I need time to think this over."
"Uh, uh, sure," said Charles. "I didn't … I mean … did I propose marriage somewhere along the line?"
"You said you weren't interested in dating for anything but a long-term relationship," said Zana. "That's going to eliminate a lot of girls from your dating pool. Most of them are only out to have a good time and drop the guy afterward. I'd like to work with you and find out if I like you enough to keep you."
"Work with me?" Charles said. "Work how?"
Zana reached into her knapsack beside her chair, pulled out a heavy book, and set it on the table. It was a grimoire, a spell book used by Arcanists. Charles stared at it.
"I've been studying," said Zana. "Arcanists practice their art via cold, hard logic. I've found that logic also applies to other areas, as well. Such as relationships. I want a mate. You want a mate. Let's get to know one another, and decide if we could build a life together."
Charles gazed at her and her book, and thought about it. Arcanists were known not only for their devastating spell casting, but for their abilities to summon creatures out of the aether to fight for them. It might be a good idea to take more firepower into the Sylphlands, considering how dangerous it was. But part of him balked at dragging a woman into such danger, even if she did train battle chocobos for a living. Especially a woman who was interested in him.
"We're working bounties at present," he said at last. "Our next target is an overgrown funguar in the Sylphlands. It's way over in the East Shroud, and it's dangerous."
"I've been there," said Zana. "My aunt raises bees outside the Hawthorne Hut. I may even know the funguar you're hunting. Speak to your warrior friend and tell him that I offer my help. I could even train your birds along the way."
Charles found his objections to bringing her along dying in the face of her logic. Did he want a woman who could out-reason him? Well, it didn't matter. Bayan would say no, and that would be the end of it.
A serving girl came around with a notebook and pen, taking orders. Charles ordered a venison platter for himself and for Bayan. Zana ordered the same thing. As they waited for the food to arrive, Zana produced a parchment and paper and began sketching. Charles watched, fascinated, as his own portrait began to take shape under her expert hand.
"You're very good," he remarked.
"Thank you," she said, smiling. She had a dimple in her left cheek. "You have an interesting face, Charles Whitmore. I wanted to capture it to show my sisters."
"Won't they disapprove of you running off with a Hyur?" he asked.
"I'm not running off," said Zana, still drawing and glancing up at him now and then. "I know our destination and when we will return. It's what happens afterward that I am unclear about."
"Like marriage," said Charles, pushing his hair back nervously. It fell back into his eyes at once.
"Yes, maybe," Zana said. "Not immediately, of course. It depends on if your warrior friend stays in the Twelveswood, or if he moved on. I assume you will move with him, since he's hired you to do so."
"Probably," said Charles.
At this point, their dinner arrived, carried by two serving girls on two vast trays. Charles and Zana attacked their food, with Bayan's waiting nearby under a napkin. Charles was amazed to see the petite cat girl put away nearly as much food as he did.
As they finished their meal, Zana rose to her feet. "I must return home, now. I'll meet you here in the morning."
"All right," said Charles, and watched her depart, her tail peeking out from under the edge of her dress. What had he gotten himself into?
He stacked the dirty dishes in the middle of the table, then carried Bayan's tray upstairs to his room. Their rooms were next door to each other, so it was easy to find.
Bayan answered Charles's knock, first opening the door a crack to see who it was. When he saw his friend with the food, he relaxed and opened the door wide. "You have saved me again, Charles."
Charles carried the platter into the little room and set it on a small table beside the bed. The bed was piled with Bayan's armor and an open knapsack, and the greatsword stood in a corner.
"Don't thank me, yet," said Charles.
Bayan sat on the bed to eat. "Mmm, venison. Did the Miqo'te accost you, as well? Or have you taken a job ill-suited to our skills?"
"A Miqo'te Arcanist is accompanying us to fight the funguar," said Charles.
Bayan stopped chewing. His glowing blue eyes narrowed. "What did they do to you?"
Charles briefly explained meeting Zana, who fended off the other cat girls, then offered her services in combat and chocobo training. He omitted the part about dating with a long-term relationship in mind. He didn't want Bayan to potentially tease him about it. Just because Bayan didn't seem like the teasing sort didn't mean that Charles should hand him ammunition.
Bayan went on with his meal in silence, gazing into space, thinking about this. Charles leaned against the wall and folded his arms, hoping he looked relaxed and casual.
After a while, the Au Ra said, "I believe I met this woman on the road. She held my chocobo for me as I killed the lindwyrm. She seemed … strangely capable." His bright eyes studied Charles for a moment, as if he was thinking of saying more, then he busied himself cutting up a piece of venison steak.
"That was Zana?" said Charles. "Somehow, I'm not surprised. She's not afraid of murder birds."
"I would be interested to see what advice she gives me for Yin," Bayan said. "He is a good fighter, but he is not the most tractable chocobo. Did she tell you how much she wishes to be paid?"
"No," said Charles. "I had the idea she had offered for free."
"Nobody fights monsters for free," said Bayan, scowling. "If you neglected to ask her, I'll bring it up tomorrow. I refuse to ask anyone to accompany me without paying them properly."
"Yes, I suppose it's easier than having friends," said Charles.
It was a flippant remark, but Bayan recoiled as if Charles had struck him.
"What?" said Charles.
Bayan stared at his plate for a moment. Then he looked up at Charles. "Damn you," he said, very softly. "I've never had friends. My clan was absorbed into another clan before my nameday. I never fit in. I left to travel to Eorzea, and even here, I am treated as an outsider. I have hired many healers and fellow fighters, and called none of them friend. You are one more hired healer. I'll thank you to remember that."
"You called me your friend earlier," said Charles softly.
Bayan ate another bite and chewed slowly. "I did," he said, running a finger along the edge of the platter. "Perhaps it was a moment of weakness." He fixed his wild eyes on the Hyur, the blue blazing against the black. "I'll not demand friendship of anyone. Nor can I offer what I've never experienced."
"I have lots of friends," said Charles. "For my part, I consider you one of them. Kind of a strange, intense friend, but still a friend."
Bayan nodded a little, frowning, as if he couldn't understand this. He finished his meal in silence. Then he said abruptly, "Is that why you brought me supper?"
"Beg pardon?" said Charles, whose mind had wandered off into thoughts of travel the next day, and whether he would get seasick on the lake crossing to the East Shroud.
Bayan pointed to his empty platter. "You brought food to my room as a sign of your friendship, is that it? Do friends perform rites such as this?"
Charles shook his head. "It's not a rite, horn head. I brought you supper so you wouldn't have to face those girls again. You know, because I care."
Bayan stared. "You care … because I employed you?"
"I care because they humiliated you," said Charles. "I wouldn't wish that on anybody. Just because I'm working for you as a healer doesn't mean I can't care about you as a person."
Bayan rubbed the scales on the bridge of his nose, a gesture of bewilderment. "But why should you care about someone outside your own clan? I'm not Hyur."
Charles rolled his eyes. "Will you stop trying to quantify it? Ask Zana to explain friendship tomorrow. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed."
He left for his own room, shaking his head. Bayan may be a towering Auri warrior, but emotionally, he was a stunted child who had never known love. No wonder he was desperate to find a wife. But once he found her, would he have any idea how to love her?
As Charles undressed and climbed into bed, he resolved to teach Bayan all about friendship and how it worked. Somehow.