Larsa still ached from the encounter a week later. Most every part of him felt some discomfort at moving and he had stitches in so many places that bathing had become a sort of artform comprised of washing without somehow disturbing his bandages and healing injuries.

In the quiet of his sitting room, Larsa faced down the man responsible and wished he had a familiar face to provide him backup. He missed Basch for his typical assurance and wisdom in these situations, but at the same time, the thought of seeing him again left a twisting knot of dread in his stomach.

Baralai – an odd name, and not one Larsa had ever heard of in his travels – wore tattered traveling clothes he hadn't seen in any of the corners of Ivalice he visited. His dark skin – crisscrossed with small scars – and white hair bespoke a foreign lineage and Larsa correctly deduced from that and his strange attire that he wasn't one of this world.

"I'm sorry," said Baralai with a lilting accent. "What happened to the boy was my fault."

Larsa was tempted to agree with him, yet despite his natural inclinations, he couldn't bring himself to say it. "It was out of our hands," he said, repeating the same thing he'd been telling himself over and over this past week. "It appears the gods are playing a game in which we were not intended to be players."

Baralai leaned forward and linked his hands together while his expression showed the weariness and experience that came with long life. Thanks to that, Larsa found it difficult to place his age. "We may be mortal, but I'm not satisfied with the idea of sitting by while these gods interfere with the lives of my friends."

Larsa rested his staff by the chair and straightened. He was emperor, and he was autocrat. It was his responsibility to take charge. "You wish to find answers."

"Yes."

"I know a man that might know the method you need. I will bring him and his friend here to speak with you. But what do you plan to do once you obtain the ability to travel across space? Would you follow this god across the universe? Across time?"

"And if possible, I'll kill it."

"So long as you know that Archadia is on your side."

"We'll need all the help we can get after all the people this thing has taken."

"How many?"

"… Dozens, at least. Not all of them make it far, though it leaves a mark on every world he visits."

Larsa looked to Baralai's ruined clothing and scarred skin. "They all suffer such?"

"Yes." Baralai looked away. "I wish he'd taken me sooner."

"It's unfair for your mind to be not your own."

"It's not the first time an angry spirit has taken me – I should have been stronger this time. I could have resisted him."

"I think you'll find the influence of gods to be stronger than that of man. I worry there may not be much strength left in us to fight that of the divine." Larsa thought of Vayne's twisted body. "I used to tell myself that the gods required consent to take root in the hearts of man, but the more I find myself exposed to such things, the more I find that power stronger than any man and unheeding of our willpower."

Baralai said nothing to that, expression distant.

Larsa leaned back. "I'll send you to Al-Cid and offer my friends as companions. I suspect they would be glad to accompany you."

"I don't need company. I still have his power, if not his madness."

"Maybe not, but it would be beneficial all the same." Larsa gave him a hard look. "It isn't good for us to be alone – I've seen too many loved ones driven mad by loneliness."

Baralai nodded without looking any more optimistic. "I suppose I'll end up staying on this world a little longer and count myself lucky to return at all to Spira. I shouldn't try before I've removed the last trace of him."

Larsa felt a stab of sympathy then. He couldn't imagine being cast off from Ivalice without chance of return. "What's it like?"

"Spira? Full of water, I think. Color, too. Even the villages erected on the edge of the shores hang tapestries and banners from their windows and I never appreciated the hues for their vibrancy until I left. Our buildings weren't so large, though."

"I should think not. I've yet to see anything so big as this palace."

Baralai smiled at that. "There are larger structures. We simply have yet to find them under the ruin and rubble."

"I'll impatiently await your report, then, as it is yet unlikely I'll ever leave Archades."

With a deep breath that moved his whole frame, Baralai said, "Don't resign yourself to it. That's what I thought myself before being ripped so unceremoniously from my home."

A knock at the door and Larsa looked to the clock. It was late for guests. "Yes?"

Basch entered, back in his armor, and gave a formal bow. "Your Imperial Majesty."

Larsa forced himself to swallow and breathe. His instincts reminded him what happened last time Basch entered his room. "Judge Magister Gabranth."

"If you would allow it, I wish to return to my duties."

Larsa didn't miss the hesitant look Baralai gave them both.

"O-of course." Larsa planted a hand on his desk to steady the tremors. "Please. I wouldn't want you to feel so constrained in your rest."

Basch nodded and took slow steps his way. Larsa didn't take his eyes off the man, watched every move and motion. Studied the hand that gripped the hilt of his sword like it was a masterwork art piece. One that could slice straight through him in a second.

Basch stopped beside him without looking his way. Larsa noticed at least a meter in difference between where he usually stood and where he was now – the man gave Larsa extra distance.

Baralai cleared his throat and stood. "I've taken too much of your time. I'll message you if I need anything."

"Yes," Larsa managed before Baralai disappeared behind the door.

An awkward moment passed and Larsa kept his eyes on that door. "It won't be much longer before I retire for the night."

"I understand."

Larsa looked to the clock. He had papers to sign and proposals to review and messages to pen. But his fingers shook like he was out in the Paramina Rift without anything to protect himself.

Without looking, he slowly extended one hand to reach for Basch's. Larsa swallowed and didn't look to see if he noticed – just found that gauntlet and gripped it close. His heart hammered in his chest, but the need for strength overcame him.

Basch didn't pull away. Just took a step closer and returned his hold.

And they stayed like that until it came time to retire.