Koharu opened her eyes. She sat up from the chair where she had been lying, its wooden slats cool against her hot skin. The room was shady and cool, but a beam of burning desert sunlight cast a golden bar across the floor. Even that much sun warmed the room by two degrees.
"What did you see?" said the old woman. She sat on a mat on the floor across the room, an ancient Lalafel wrapped in layers of cloth. No matter how hot the summer, the old woman was always cold.
"I saw the man again, Mother," Koharu said, shivering a little. "The Xaela in black armor with the sword of darkness. He slew a giant funguar in one stroke of his sword." She distractedly tucked a strand of golden hair behind one of her white horns.
"This vision means the same as the last," said the old woman, Lilira. From her layers of wrappings, she produced a battered set of cards. She placed three face-up on the stone floor and squinted at them. "Change. Fear. Death." She drew out the last word, making it into a long hiss.
Koharu hugged herself and gazed at the old woman. The headache accompanying the vision was already fading. But the vision, itself, remained as clear in her mind as if it were a painting on the wall. The fearsome Xaela, crowned with black horns and marked with black scales, had slain an ancient funguar. Before that, she had seen him cleave the head from a lindwyrm. Before that, he had slaughtered a tribe of Ixel. On and on it went, the terrifying warrior felling larger and larger prey. Now he was coming for her.
"But who is he?" she whispered, one hand fluttering at her throat, where the delicate white scales made lacy patterns against her fair skin. "Why does he want me? I'm no threat to him!"
"These images intrude upon your normal visions," said Lilira. "The gods whisper to you of fate." She said in a sharper voice, "We shall take in precious little coin if your inner eye remains fixed upon this warrior."
Koharu bowed her head in shame. Lilira was a fortune teller by trade. When she had taken in an orphaned Au Ra child, she had quickly learned that the child had visions, seeming to step inside the mind of anyone she came into contact with. This made for a booming trade in fortune telling. Lilira became adept at taking whatever Koharu saw and framing it as a message from the gods. So the old woman and the girl had lived quite well for nearly two decades.
Then the visions of the dark warrior began, sometimes intruding on other visions arising from customers. The accuracy of Lilira's predictions began to fail. Customers grew fewer. Now Lilira began encouraging the visions, using her own divination to try to discover the identity of this man, and why Koharu kept seeing him.
Lilira shuffled three more cards onto the floor. "A funguar, you said?"
"Yes," said Koharu miserably. In the privacy of her mind, she gazed upon the warrior's face, at the wild determination in his eyes, at a lock of hair that tumbled over his forehead in every battle, at the patterns of scales along his jaw and across the bridge of his nose. Azim's beard, he was handsome. But in every vision, he was seeking her, she was certain.
"He has moved to the Sylphlands," said Lilira, studying her cards. "I cannot tell for certain when he will move toward Thanalan."
"What do we do?" Koharu whispered.
Lilira looked up at her, her eyes like pale blue gemstones in her round face. "We will carry on with our lives, Koharu. Do not let these visions trouble you. He is thousands of malms away, far on the other side of Eorzea. He cannot find you."
Koharu didn't mention the ferocity with which he sought her. She felt it in every vision. She rose from her chair and sighed.
"Well then," said Lilira, slowly rising to her feet with the help of a cane. "Let us see about supper, and I will try to fetch in customers."
Lilira went to stand outside their tiny stone house, where she called out to passersby in her old, cracked voice. Koharu went in the kitchen and inspected their food supplies. Low, as always, when her visions refused to work upon the people before her. Dissatisfied customers paid no gil. She collected enough odds and ends to make soup and began cooking, throwing everything into a pot over the fire. She sighed at the lack of herbs and tried to make up for it with salt, instead.
Voices in the passage. Lilira had caught a customer and was showing them into the reading room. She tapped her cane twice on the floor, which was Koharu's signal to slip behind the curtain.
The reading room was a small room draped in black cloth, with a table with a crystal ball in the center. The customer sat on a bench in the dimness. Lilira sat facing them and pretended to read the crystal ball. In reality, Koharu slipped into the room, behind a black curtain, and peered at the face of their guest. This usually triggered a vision, which she whispered to Lilira through a short speaking tube. Lilira listened to the tube through the curtain, then made a great show of telling the guest their fortune.
Please, great Azim and Nhaama, Koharu prayed silently, let my vision be clear, and not tainted with a vision of the dark warrior. She slipped behind the curtain and sat down. She peered through a tiny hole at their guest. Then she barely stifled a gasp.
Sitting in the reading room was a Roegadyn in rich clothing, seeming to fill the room in his fine linen and leather garments. This was Chief Foreman Fyrgeiss, one of the Syndicate of Ul'Dah, and one of the six most powerful people in the region. He smiled patronizingly at Lilira. "If you can give me guidance, I would be most grateful. And generous. Unfortunately, I can give you no details of my business. I'm sure you understand."
"Yes, my lord," Lilira wheedled. "The inner eye sees all. You have no need to confide your secrets to me."
In other words, Koharu had better not mess this up.
Koharu fixed her gaze on Fyrgeiss, studying his broad face, the shrewd eyes, lined from years of desert sun. All she knew about him was that he owned all the mines in Thanalan-
The vision came as a stabbing pain in her forehead. She flinched and pressed a hand to her head, leaning back on the pillow on the hidden bench. Some visions caused her to faint, and she could not afford to fall on the floor of the reading room.
The vision flooded into her mind, bright and vivid. A mine in the desert, surrounded by mounds of red rock. The reptilian beast tribe, the Amaljaa, paced about with drawn swords. Some hauled away raw crystal in mine carts. Dead workers littered the rubble. Then came the dark warrior, the sun gleaming on his armor, swinging his sword and slaying the Amaljaa. One Amaljaa fought him sword to sword, and for a time, she feared her dark warrior might fall. Then he prevailed and the Amaljaa's head rolled from its shoulders.
Still in the midst of the headache, she whispered her vision into the speaking pipe. Then she listened as Lilira pretended to go into a trance.
"All is dark … a vision appears in the darkness … red stone … crumbled rock … a mine? Yes, I see a mine in southern Thanalan. So many bodies, oh dear, so much death. The Amaljaa! They have struck down the workers and taken the mine."
Koharu peered through the curtain. Fyrgeiss's mouth was open, gaping at Lilira in astonishment. Koharu smiled, but only for a second. Now she knew what would bring the dark warrior to Thanalan. Lilira went on, "I see a great swordsman … he is an Au Ra of the Xaela tribe. He wields a greatsword, and he slays monsters for a living. He … he is slaying the Amaljaa without effort. Could this be another Warrior of Light? His strength is impossible."
"Who?" blurted Fyrgeiss. "Who is this warrior? I must hire him at once!"
"I know not, my lord," Lilira purred. "I know only that he recently slew a lindwyrm and a funguar near Gridania."
"Right," said Fyrgeiss. "I can find him. Your visions are astounding, my lady." He rose to his feet and bowed. Then he placed an impressive amount of gil on the tabletop. "I thank you for your assistance, honorable purveyor of visions. I will send other customers to you-when I do not come, myself!"
Koharu rested on the bench as Lilira bowed and simpered, feeding Fyrgeiss the usual story that she was only the instrument of the gods, and she wished him the best.
Then Lilira came back inside and counted the coins on the table in silence.
Koharu sat still, the pain behind her eyes still throbbing. After a while, she said, "Mother … the dark warrior comes."
"I know," said Lilira through the curtain. "It is the hand of the gods. I dared not alter your vision, not for so rich a man. He must needs hire the dark warrior. But you … you must stay out of sight, understand?"
"Yes, Mother," Koharu sighed. Fear beat within her breast. Step by step, the dark warrior was making his way toward her, and she could not escape him. Handsome, powerful, and ruthless, he would strike her down as he had struck every other obstacle in his path.
But why? It was the cry of her heart all evening, as they ate their soup, washed dishes, and went to bed. Lilira fell asleep and snored on the bed beside Koharu's, but Koharu lay gazing into the darkness. Why did the warrior come to kill her? She had never seen him strike down another Au Ra in any vision. Only monsters and beast tribe members. But always he sought her. In the vision where he fought the Amaljaa, she had felt his attention like a tight string between them, drawing tighter the closer he came. He would find her. And then what? The sword? It was too easy to imagine that huge sword swinging at her neck.
But it was also easy to daydream that perhaps he wasn't coming to murder her. Maybe he would sweep her off her feet, instead. She would reach up and tuck in that single unruly tuft of hair that curled over his forehead, then he would kiss her.
But it was a huge gamble, wasn't it? Lilira's divination cards showed that the warrior's coming meant death, not love. Over and over, the cards had predicted it.
Koharu sighed and rolled to face the wall. If only there was some way she could be sure. Her visions had always been a burden, but now they were a nightmare. She closed her eyes and hoped that no further visions came to her in the night.
Charles was seriously ill the next morning.
Bayan waited for the healer in the inn common room. When he didn't appear at breakfast, Bayan went upstairs to check on him.
Charles's door wasn't locked. Bayan opened it and called, "Charles? Are you all right?"
"No," came the reply. "Come in, then."
Bayan walked in and found Charles still in bed. He had stripped to the waist, and was soaked in sweat. His hair clung to his forehead in damp strands. "The spores," he said hoarsely, gazing up at Bayan. "I forgot to use the Purge spell on myself. Now I don't have the strength."
Bayan touched his forehead and found it burning hot. "You're very ill. What can I do?"
"Go to the Conjurer's Guild and ask for a healer," Charles whispered. "Tell them it was funguar spores. They'll know what to do."
An unsettled sort of day followed. Bayan traveled all over Gridania, first to secure the services of a healer, then to procure various medical supplies. As it turned out, Charles Whitmore was well-known and much liked among his fellow conjurers. News that he had been poisoned set them to work immediately.
No sooner had Bayan returned with the medicine than he ran into Zana. She was much upset by the news about Charles and demanded to see him. Bayan took her to his room, where the other healer was at work. Zana squeezed in and offered her services. When Bayan left, Zana was holding Charles's hand, and he was smiling up at her.
Bayan retreated to a corner of the inn's common room to brood. It was midmorning by this time, and the common room was empty. Bayan sat at a table, leaned his chair against the wall, and folded his arms. The healer had told him that Charles might take two weeks to a month to recover. Additionally, Zana seemed to truly care about him, and Charles was eating it up. Bayan had planned to set out for the lands beyond the Twelveswood, but now he was faced with a choice. He could remain here while Charles recovered … or he could dismiss him from his service and look for another healer. Zana could not accompany them beyond the wood, and it seemed unkind to drag Charles away from a potential mate.
But that meant searching for a healer whose aether operated at a high frequency, whatever that meant. Zana had said that it was rare. There had been plenty of healers at the Conjurer's Guild, so it wasn't out of the question that he might find someone with compatible magic.
But the more he thought about it, the more glum he became. The logical choice was to dismiss Charles and move on. The gods only knew how many healers he had dropped already. But arrayed against logic was his sense of loyalty, and yes, the fact that he cared about the Hyur. If not for Bayan dragging him into danger, Charles wouldn't be sick. It would be cold, indeed, to abandon him, when Charles had breathed toxic spores while keeping Bayan alive.
Bayan sighed. That was the crux of the matter. It would be dishonorable to abandon his friend. His friend! By Azim's scales, he had a friend, and he wasn't even sure how it happened. He would not abandon his one friend. Such a thing was too rare and precious to throw away. There was probably more work to do around the Twelveswood, anyway. He could live quite comfortably on those last two bounties for some time.
Bayan went out to the stables to check on Yin and Goldie. Both chocobos were restless and tired of their stalls. Bayan took Yin out into the exercise yard and ran him in circles for a while. Once the bird was tired, he returned him to his stall, then took out Goldie. She was much more docile than Yin, and even nibbled Bayan's shoulder in a friendly way. She was so much smaller than Yin that Bayan was afraid his weight might harm her, so he jogged beside her, leading her by the halter rope. Goldie trotted with him happily enough.
By the time he finished working with the birds, it was past noon. Bayan returned to the inn to find Zana and the other healer talking in the common room. They looked up as he entered.
"There you are," said Zana, beckoning him over. She was back to her dress with a shawl over her head, hiding her ears and tail. Bayan wondered why she did it.
"How is Charles?" Bayan asked.
The other healer was an Elezen, with the noble bearing and pointed ears of his race. He was nearly as tall as Bayan. "Hello, sir," said the healer with a bow. "I understand that you are Charles's warrior colleague?"
"And his friend," said Bayan, proud to use the word.
The healer nodded. "I have purged the spores from his system, but they had left behind many toxins as a byproduct. He is sleeping now, but he needs rest. It will be several days before he is ready for travel. If you are in a hurry, I suggest hiring another healer instead and leaving him in the guild's care. He will be well looked after. Charles Whitmore has many friends here."
"I will stay," said Bayan. "I am responsible for his illness, and I cannot abandon him. I will pay for his room and treatment."
The Elezen gazed at the Au Ra for a moment, studying the horns and scales that made Bayan so imposing. After a moment, he slowly nodded. "A warrior with honor. I like that. Very well, I will keep you apprised of his condition. I understand that you were also exposed to the spores. Charles insisted that I examine you, as well."
"Charles is practically on his death bed, and he worries about me?" Bayan said. There went that friendship thing again. "Very well, examine me. But Charles performed several purges and I have had no ill effects since."
Bayan sat in a chair and let the Elezen cast a few spells on him to analyze his health. His magic felt like ice, and Bayan shivered as each spell touched him. Zana sat nearby with the magic ring in her hand, peering through it at the examination. Every time Bayan shuddered, she made a note in her grimoire.
At last, the Elezen pronounced him healthy. "Charles is a conscientious healer," he said, shaking his head. "But he forgets to care for himself. If you intend to work with him long term, you will have to see to it that he rests and heals."
"Now that I am aware of this flaw, I will watch him," said Bayan.
The Elezen departed a few minutes later, promising to return that evening. Bayan sat in silence for several minutes, aware of Zana scribbling in her book.
"Well?" he asked her. "I saw you watching."
"That healer's magic was a much lower frequency than yours," said Zana, looking like a cat on the trail of a mouse. "You flinched at every spell. Do you realize how useful this is?"
"No," said Bayan. "Being allergic to all friendly spells is not useful in the slightest."
"But that means you also sense unfriendly spells," Zana said, pointing at him with her quill pen. "You were planning to visit Ul'Dah, correct? Home of the Black Mage Guild. They excel at placing tiny spells of influence on people to encourage them to do what they want. But that will never work on you because you will feel it. In fact, there are very few spells you can't detect."
Bayan had never thought of this. He pondered it for a moment. "You're saying that my disadvantage could also be an advantage."
"Yes," said Zana, her green eyes shining with excitement. "I'm eager to see what happens when you face a foe who uses magic."
"I have," said Bayan. "On my way through Coerthas, I met a small dragon that used ice magic against me. I would have died had not a passing knight saved me. I have no defenses against magic."
Well, he hadn't at the time. The abyss offered its own defenses against magic, should Bayan call on them. But he didn't bring it up.
"Hmm." Zana chewed her quill and paged through her book. "I'll think about this. Meanwhile, lunch."
Bayan shared soup and sandwiches with Zana. Then he took a bowl upstairs to Charles.
Charles appeared to be sleeping, but he roused when Bayan set the bowl on the bedside table.
"Oh, hello," Charles yawned. He had dressed in his nightshirt again, and wasn't as sweaty as before. But the room had a sour, sick smell.
"Can you eat?" Bayan asked.
Charles sat up experimentally. "Maybe," he said, and coughed heavily. It was a wet, tearing sort of cough. He wiped his mouth on a napkin, leaving the same sort of black smear that Bayan had also spat out after being purged. Bayan steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. "Easy."
"I'm all right," Charles said breathlessly. "I already feel worlds better. They say I have to stay in bed for a few days. Will you be leaving?" He looked up at Bayan anxiously.
"No," Bayan assured him. "It's my fault you are sick, and I'll not abandon you. You're my friend." He said the word with emphasis.
Charles grinned, and his eyes watered a little. "Coming from you, that means a lot." He lifted the bowl of soup, set it in his lap, and sipped the broth. "I'll recover as quickly as I can. I didn't plan on being laid up like this, and I'll run out of money before I'm well."
"I'm paying your bills," said Bayan. "It's the least I can do."
Charles didn't say anything, but his eyes watered some more. He worked on his soup. Bayan sat in a nearby chair and told him what Zana had said about his magic sensitivity.
"That fascinating," Charles said, cheerful once more. "That means I have it, too. I don't often have magic cast on me, so it's not something I had noticed."
"Zana says that it will be useful in detecting black magic," Bayan said. "Which reminds me. I had planned to move on to Thanalan once you are recovered. But … I needed to ask if you approved."
"Sure," said Charles, giving him a confused look. "Why would I mind? My only request is that we cross the desert lands and wind up in La Noscea, because I really want to see the sea again."
Bayan was taken aback. "Oh. I had not … I thought you would not want to leave your lady friend."
"Zana? Right, she can't leave the Twelveswood." Charles face fell. He stirred his soup moodily for a moment. Then he looked up again, brightening. "The major cities have Aetheryte crystals, right? All we have to do is attune our magic to them, and we can travel between them on the aether flow. I've heard it's nearly instantaneous. There's a crystal right here in Gridania."
"But I thought only people with oceans of magic could use them," said Bayan doubtfully. "You could, perhaps, but not me."
"You never know until you try to attune," said Charles. "The mages on duty will teach us how. That way, once we reach Ul'Dah, I can travel back here and visit Zana whenever I want."
Bayan studied the happy expression on Charles's face, even through the fever-bright gleam in his eyes. "You like her so much?"
"She's my friend," said Charles. "She knows magical theory like you wouldn't believe. I promised to bring her samples of aether crystals from wherever we go."
That hadn't been what Bayan had asked, but he didn't press the subject. Instead, he leaned back and crossed his ankles. "Where else would you like to go?"
Bayan had already traveled down the west coast of Eorzea, visiting Limsa Lominsa first, then Ul'Dah inland, in the desert, and then northeast, to the Twelveswood and Gridania. Now he would circle back westward, hitting the outlying towns who might need a sword for hire to deal with bandits or monsters. But he didn't know the country, and it would be more fun to travel with a sightseeing companion.
"We need a map," said Charles, setting his empty soup bowl aside. "I'll show you the places I've heard about, but never seen. I grew up in La Noscea, but my magic tended toward conjury, so I moved up here to attend school. If we make it all the way to the coast, I'll introduce you to my family. My mother will scream at the sight of us, and then cook you a tremendous dinner."
This sounded good to Bayan. He went out and bought a map from a cartographer, then he and Charles spent the afternoon planning their route. Altogether, it was an agreeable way to pass the time.
Over the next several days, Charles alternated between sleeping and restlessly roaming the inn. He spent hours looking up places in the public atlas downstairs in the airship station. Bayan exercised chocobos, kept in training with his sword at the Serpent Guard training ground, and never thought about the abyss. Zana was in and out, sometimes to talk magic theory, other times to discuss chocobo training. She gave Bayan several tips about how to teach Yin not to pick fights with other chocobos, and Bayan was grateful.
A week had passed, and Bayan and Charles were talking of attuning to the Aetheryte crystal the following day. They were having a late supper in the common room, mostly to avoid the squad of Miqo'te girls, when a well-dressed Lalafel approached their table.
Bayan warily watched the tiny man. Lalafel only came to his knees, short, chubby, childlike people. But their cute looks concealed sharp, sometimes ruthless minds. The Lalafel he had met in Ul'Dah had been some of the coldest, most frightening people he had ever met, and he had worked with dark knights. The one advancing toward them wore the kind of rich tunic and jingling necklaces and bracelets that were fashionable in Ul'Dah.
Charles looked up and noticed their visitor. "Hello! Can we help you?"
"Perhaps," said the Lalafel, his eyes sweeping Charles, then Bayan. "Do I stand in the presence of Bayan Avagnar, slayer of funguar and lindwyrms?"
"And many other things, besides," said Bayan. He rose to his feet and bowed. "Would you join us? We were finishing up our supper."
"Don't mind if I do," said the stranger, climbing into a free chair. He claimed their wine bottle, still half-full, and poured himself a glass. "I am Tololi, personal manservant of Chief Foreman Fyrgeiss, of the Ul'Dah Syndicate."
"What brings you all the way to Gridania?" Charles asked in surprise.
"Business, good sir," said Tololi. "My master recently lost a valuable crystal mine to the Amaljaa, the beast tribe of Thanalan. They have slain everyone we sent to deal with them, including private guards, sellswords, and adventurers. However, my master recently heard of a professional monster slayer with an excellent track record, and sent me to hire him. Would you be he?"
Bayan nodded. "I am."
Tololi turned to Charles. "Would I be correct in assuming that you are his dedicated healer?"
"That's me," said Charles with a grin.
"Excellent," said Tololi. "This is better than we hoped. My master wishes to hire you both. Had you lacked a healer, I was supposed to find you one. Any other support you need, he will provide. He wants his mine back and the Amaljaa slain or driven off. What is your price, please?"
"One thousand gil per day," said Bayan coolly. "Such a job may take several days. And a bonus ten thousand upon securing the mine."
Tololi didn't even blink. "That is acceptable. And you, sir?"
Charles gaped. "Uh, well, he pays me, and, uh-"
"A thousand a day for him, too," said Bayan. "He and I shall split the final bonus."
"Agreed," said Tololi.
Bayan immediately regretted not asking even more.
"Every day the mine does not operate is hundreds of thousands of gil lost," Tololi went on. "My airship stands ready at the port beneath our feet. How soon might we depart?"
Bayan and Charles exchanged glances. "Midmorning tomorrow," said Bayan. "We need time to settle our affairs here. We had planned to set out for Thanalan within the next few days, so your summons comes at a good time."
"My master will be exceedingly glad," said Tololi. "I thank you for your hospitality. I will await your presence at the airship landing at ten o'clock tomorrow." He drained his wine glass, hopped out of his chair, and walked away toward the inn stairs.
Once the Lalafel was gone, Charles turned to Bayan. "Ten thousand gil, on top of a daily charge? And he didn't even blink!"
"He is Syndicate," said Bayan quietly. "They rule Ul'Dah like kings, all six of them. I wonder if we should hire help to deal with the Amaljaa? They are fierce warriors, not as delicate as the Ixel."
"We'll scope the area and decide," said Charles. "We pull this off, we'll be rich!"
"It's the pulling it off that concerns me," Bayan muttered, picking up the wine bottle and looking sadly at what remained. He poured it into his own glass and finished it off. "If these Amaljaa have already dispatched whole bands of soldiers and mercenaries, what chance do we have, as a mage and a warrior? My sword is sharp, but even I can be overwhelmed. And I could not bear to see you cut down, my friend."
"I'm not fond of the idea, myself," Charles said. "Could we hire help in Ul'Dah?"
"It depends on where this mine is located," said Bayan. "They are typically far from towns, located in mountain ranges and other rocky areas rich in ore. We shall simply have to see."
"Right." Charles rose to his feet. "Tomorrow, we attune to the Aetheryte, have breakfast, and load everything on the airship. Can we bring your cart?"
"I'll sell it and buy another in Thanalan," Bayan replied. "It's too heavy for an airship."
"Great." Charles clapped him on the shoulder. "We're moving up in the world, now!"
Bayan wasn't so sure. Long after Charles had gone to bed, Bayan sat at the table with an empty wine glass, turning it around and around in his fingers as he turned the situation around in his mind. A member of the Syndicate had sent his servant across the continent to hire a single warrior. A job such as reclaiming a mine required an army, not a single warrior and his healer. Was this a setup? Some kind of political move against a rival? Bayan couldn't tell. Nothing about the situation made sense. Maybe more information would come to light on the morrow.
He went to bed and worried long into the night.