The sun is high overhead when our chocobos tire and we're forced to leave them behind in the plains. I stretch my arms over my head, nearly stumbling into Balthier's side when I yawn. He raises an eyebrow; I ignore him, straightening like nothing happened. Vaan rushes ahead of us, folding his hands together behind his head.

"I guess this one was a success!" he says, flashing a grin.

"Wow, I'm impressed, Vaan," Penelo teases, smiling and clasping her hands behind her back.

"I got a good feeling!" the blonde laughs, shrugging. They continue bickering, including Larsa, as we meander towards the looming, dense jungle ahead of us. Ashe and Basch talk quietly behind us, but I still manage to pick up on the conversation.

"An alliance between Dalmasca and the Empire?"

"Reason tells me 'tis the only course. We must void a wasting war with the Empire at all costs. Yet I fear I could not bear the shame. Had I but the strength—"

"A shame perhaps for me and you. But for Dalmasca it is hope!" Basch insists.

"And you can just accept this, can you?"

"After Vayne's ruse I had abandoned hope for honor, yet never did I forget my knightly vows. If I could protect but one person from war's horror, then I would bear any shame. I would bear it proudly."

"I really do hate to eavesdrop," I mutter, slowing to walk on the other side of the princess. Something in her words reminds me of how I used to be, searching only for the riches that would benefit myself in the "good" I did for others. "But Basch is right. Shame is an awfully hard burden to bear, I know. But as you strive to be Queen, you should know already that shame is the least of your problems when so many lives are at stake. Your ruling should not be for your honor, but for what's best for your people." Ashe shakes her head, brows furrowed.

"My people hate the Empire. They will not accept this."

"There is hope," Basch shakes his head, staring at the three youngsters playfully arguing ahead of us. "Hope for a future where we can join hands as brothers."

"And I suppose it starts with those brats," I sigh, cocking my head to the side. Ashe's frown deepens and she turns to face me.

"Your words… I found them incredibly well said as if you've recited them. Where did you come across such a principle as a mere pirate?" I fight my heartbeat as it quickens, my face slowly draining of all color. Quickly, I shrug and hurry my pace to pass her by.

"I thought them up just now, like anyone speaks. Didn't think of me as the pensive type, now did you?"

I force a laugh, distancing myself from them and keeping myself parallelled with Fran's steps. The air grows heavy and laden with moisture, the light of the afternoon fading with the thick canopy stretching over our heads gradually. I have a terrible feeling about this place. It doesn't take long for the jungle to swallow us entirely, roaring with the chirps of crickets and squawks of colorful birds. Balthier's gun cracks loud and clear as he shoots down a squiggling malboro that leaps from the shadows.

"It's so dark," Penelo whispers, huddling close to Basch's side.

"Stick close to the path and all will be well," he reassures her, sword drawn.

A growl rumbles from further down the stone path. I jerk my spear free, raising it defensively as the snarls come closer, surrounding us but obscured by the darkness. My back winds up practically pressed to Balthier's as we stand in a circle, breaths held as we wait. Fran's ears twitch; I stare hard into the foliage. There's a rustle and then all goes silent.

A feline's shriek drowns out Fran's warning and Balthier's gun nearly deafens me as he shoots the panther that lunged at him with lightning reflexes. The kickback knocks him into me and sends me stumbling forward. I block a pair of snarling jaws with my spear as I roll to the ground, wrestling with the velvety black wildcat.

Rotten breath chokes me as I struggle, crying out when razor-sharp talons pierce my bare shoulder and tear my flesh as they dig in, torturously slow. Vaan slashes at the panther's side and kicks it to the hillside, the cat tumbling off the edge of the stone path. Lowering a hand, he pulls me to my feet and runs to help Penelo and Larsa. Taking a deep breath, I try to ignore the searing pain burning in my arm when I move and the hot, steady flow of blood staining my white shirt. My head spins as I stagger toward my next opponent.

Unaware of my surroundings, I nearly topple Fran over as she steps back to fire an arrow. She misfires and the arrow nearly finds Basch's temple. I open my mouth to apologize when I'm dragged backward suddenly, my cry of surprise matching Ashe's when she, too, is pounced on.

I grit my teeth, trying to use the shaft of my spear to block deadly sharp teeth meant for tearing flesh. It slips from my grasp, clattering to the ground a few feet away. My hands reach up instinctively to push the panther off as it pounces, my heart pounding in my chest at Penelo's scream. My voice tries to join her when my own strength isn't enough, but nothing comes but a rasping gurgle when the wildcat's jaws clamp down on my throat.

"Shera!"

Hardly able to breathe past the blood flooding my throat, I try pushing again. And then the panther is gone, torn away from me and miraculously not taking my whole neck with it. I choke and gasp for air, coughing red splatters onto the rough stones as I turn over and push myself up on my elbows and knees. My spear drops to the ground beside my head and I see the bleary traces of a face to my right. My armored hand clutches my dripping throat, my body trembling. A wave of warmth washes over me and a flurry of green sparks dances over my skin.

I'm bathed once more in light before I can breathe again, healing magick stitching me together from the inside out. My vision clears and I see Larsa and Balthier peering down at me, the former of the two dropping to the puddle of blood and throwing his arms around me. My wounds are narrow slits across my neck now, still bleeding. There's only so much a healing spell can do, I suppose. Surprised, I rest a hand on the base of the boy's back. I forgot that underneath that smooth composure is a little boy. I glance up at Balthier, who offers me a potion with a raised eyebrow.

"That was quite the performance, now wasn't it?"

"I wish it could have gone better," I reply, my voice rough. Wincing, I uncap the blue crystal bottle and down the thin, medicinal substance. I glance toward Fran as Larsa peels himself away from my blood-soaked shirt. "Really sorry about that." She shakes her head.

"You should only apologize to yourself. I was not harmed." The princess…

"Where's Ashe?" I demand, trying to turn only to wince. Still sore.

"She's been rescued by her knight in mismatched armor," Balthier replies, cocking his head to the side. "Now what's all this 'Shera' business?"

"The lengthier version of her name," Larsa replies simply, his shaking hands clasping together to hide their trembling. "I apologize for allowing my manners to slip, Shae. I was only worried."

"It's not all that bad," I reply, offering a weak smile and dragging myself to my feet. I stare down at my spear; the pole is half coated in blood as if the attacker skewered the panther- all the way through. "Who used that?"

"Balthier," Vaan replies, hurrying over. "I wanted to help, but Ashe got taken down at the same time and I was closer to her—"

"It's fine," I laugh, ruffling his hair and stooping down to pick my blood-soaked weapon up off the ground. Frowning, I look down at my shirt. "This may need a good wash soon, though."

"Is everyone alright?" Ashe pushes past Fran, a shallow line still marking her forehead. She eyes me before nodding firmly. "I apologize; I had not realized how narrow these paths were."

"And I should have adapted," I reply simply, sliding my spear into its slot on my back. Her expression lightens and she shakes her head.

"You have done so dutifully with each ship we come across. Your aptitude for mechanics has become irreplaceable. That much I can thank you for." Sheepishly, I shrug once more, waiting for the others to pass before falling in line with Balthier, staring at the ground. Finally, I break the silence, keeping my voice low.

"So, why save the failed sky pirate, Leading Man?" I ask, giving him a sidelong glance from the corner of my eye. He keeps his forest green eyes dead set on Basch's back. "Seems awfully heroic, 'heart-of-gold' to me, hm?"

"It would be a shame to see such an intriguing character in this story fall so soon," he replies, diverting his eyes to look at me, that light, smug smile overtaking his face. "And now, to know your true name—it intrigues me even further."

"Still trying to figure it out?" I tease, grinning and knocking into his shoulder.

"I admit, you have far more levels than I originally perceived."

"Then I'd count it a success that you got this far. Don't expect to dig any deeper; I've just broken your shovel."

"And I suppose that you've forgotten that you owe me a crumb of your story each time I save you?"

"You've rescued me twice," I huff, crossing my arms a little tighter. "But I suppose… What did you want to know? You asked my age the first time."

"I remember," he replies, looking around at the thick jungle enveloping us. "I don't have a question now, but you've not been set free just yet. I'll think of something."

"Sounds good to me," I grin, adjusting the tie at the end of my braid. Maybe…

Maybe Balthier isn't so bad after all.

The blue panel of light ripples and glows, eliciting a gasp from Vaan when it zaps at his tentative touch. The dim light casts a cerulean tint across our faces, reflecting from eight pairs of eyes.

"What is it?" Vaan asks, his voice full of curiosity.

"The jungle denies us our passage," Fran says, staring long and hard at the patterns traced across the illuminated gateway into the eastern portion of the jungle.

"What have we done?" Ashe asks her, her face pulled into an anxious frown. Fran backs away, turning on her heels to walk away.

"We? No...I."

"What's that mean?" Vaan demands as she strides away. "How're we supposed to get through that?"

Fran paces by, joining Balthier's side. I trail behind, ears attentive.

"Making an appearance?" Balthier asks.

"Hey, I'm talkin' over here!" Vaan cries, waving an arm over his head as if that might stop the viera once her mind's set on something.

"I am," Fran replies, nodding and keeping up the pace. I turn to face everyone else, waving for them to follow.

"Come along, Chatterbox. She's not waiting for you to solve the riddle."

"I thought you'd left for good."

Balthier's words catch my ear and I make sure to stay close so I don't miss a word. I may be an eavesdropper, but I don't think they'll mind too much if I don't plan on telling anyone. Right? Then again, information is worth far more than physical riches these days.

"Our choices are few," the viera replies, shaking her head. Vaan calls their names, waving to catch their attention as they continue. "This is as much for you as it is me." Balthier stops.

"Oh?"

Fran pauses, turning back and simply not caring that I'm watching them converse. Her eyes scan over the young man, seeing straight through his "grown-up" demeanor. Her nose twitches. "You are ill at ease." Her voice lowers, her eyes flickering to me for half a second. "The nethicite troubles you?" Balthier's composure collapses for half a second and Fran's lips curl into the slightest of all smiles. "You've let your eyes betray your heart." Balthier takes a deep breath, nodding once.

"Right."

I come closer with Vaan as Fran begins to trace a finger across the next gateway she stops at. A colorful beam follows her every move, her eyes locked on it in deep concentration. Balthier stares straight ahead, seeming lost in thought. That, or simply blocking everything else out.

"What are you doing?" Vaan asks, pushing me to the side to see Fran. She pulls her hand away and blows on her palm, a green spark flying from her skin to the barrier.

"Soon you will learn," she replies, glancing down at the thief. A path suddenly bursts into place, laden with grass and dull pink flowers. With a flash of white light, it becomes solid, a walkway to some secret place Fran sees fit for her to visit. Rather, for her to return.

"Whoa," Vaan breathes. I nod, though my mind is elsewhere. The nethicite… Why does it bother him so much?

I'd heard mentions of nethicite here and there from Dern, little jokes or comments that would've offended any Archadian working for a House. But Balthier… he acts so bizarre around the substance that even Basch inquired about it this morning. How did I not notice sooner? Balthier is no noble hume who's simply afraid of what the nethicite could do to the people of Ivalice. There's something else there. Something happened. Curious how he spends his time trying to piece me together while I haven't a single clue where to start on his puzzle.

"We go to seek aid of the viera who dwell ahead," Fran explains, her dark eyes skimming over the path.

"I bet they'll be glad to see you after so long," Penelo offers, smiling. Fran's face falls.

"I am unwelcome. An unsought guest in their wood."

Slowly, we make our way down the path, one by one so we don't bump each other off the soft edge of the grass. The walk is hardly long at all, leading around a patch of densely packed jungle trees. A tunnel of white and gold stone towers ahead, looming high overhead until we travel through. The light of the sun finally breaks through the foliage overhead, pouring down over a twisted system of paths gathered around a massive, gnarled tree trunk coated with moss and shelved mushrooms. Fran slows, stopping at the exit of the cave and lifting her head to the sunlight.

"In the village ahead you will find her: Mjrn. Bring her to me." She rests a hand on her hip, nodding toward Vaan. "She will know why you call her."

"You're not coming with us?" Vaan asks, frowning.

"She said she was unwelcome, didn't she?" Balthier counters, raising an eyebrow and wandering toward the village. "Not that humes are appreciated, but we'll be tolerated."

"You know that way?" I hurry to catch up to his side, studying the rising, twisting, towering tree in the center of the village.

"I've been in Eruyt once," Balthier replies, lifting his chin and taking a deep breath. "The place never changes, it seems."

"When was the last time?"

"You'll see."

The viera inhabiting the secret village stand tall as we enter, ears twitching and eyes following our every move. Their silvery white hair practically glows in the dim shadows beneath the broad branches of the tree. The ground is uneven underneath my feet, worn from hundreds of years of use by the viera people who have dwelled here practically since the beginning of time. As long as they remain hidden and neutral, they remain free from conflict in the limbs of their tree and its spirit. Something of the sort was taught to me in Archades.

The path spirals up and around the tree. Larsa, Penelo, and Vaan whisper back and forth behind us, Basch and Ashe hanging behind to absorb every detail. Viera scowl, frown, scoff as we pass by, some muttering amongst themselves and others warning us that we should leave for the sake of some "She."

At the very top of the ascent, we find pairs of viera parting and a towering, rounded stone building standing beneath a thick layer of deep green leaves. The viera that once parted now surround us, blocking passage to the abode that must be Mjrn's. Nervous, Penelo huddles at Vaan's side, Ashe and Basch coming forward as the tension builds. I find myself melting behind the rest of my companions, overwhelmed with the irritation of the viera around us. Vaan clears his throat.

"Hey, Mjrn lives her, doesn't she? We're here to see her." We're met with nothing but harsh stares from the crimson eyes of the viera. One's ear twitches and she steps aside to reveal a new viera.

"You will leave at once," she says firmly, though her eyes are gentler than those of the rest. Her accent is far thicker than Fran's, though the latter's may have faded from being away for so long. She brushes her long white hair from her face before continuing. "It is not allowed for humes to walk these grounds."

"We'll go as soon as we've seen Mjrn," Vaan replies stubbornly, stepping forward. The viera surrounding us go uneasy, one by the wall even pulling her bow free and tugging gently on the tightly wound string.

"If you can find her," the newest viera snaps, crossing her arms tightly. Vaan shakes his head.

"We're not leaving until you let us see her." The viera merely turns her head away, brows furrowed. Huffing, Vaan turns around, scowling at her. "Fine then. We'll look for her ourselves." Suddenly the viera's face lightens up and I turn to face the source of the sound of rhythmic footsteps. Fran stops beside me, her expression guarded as she speaks to us.

"I've heard the voice of the Wood. She says Mjrn is not in the village." She looks up at the difficult viera ahead of us sharply. "Jote. Where has she gone?" Steadily, Fran brushes past us to step up to the viera to whom she speaks.

"Why do you ask?" Jote's voice is laced with sharp bitterness. "The Wood tells us where she has gone. Or… can you not hear Her?" Fran remains silent and Jote fights a smirk. "You cannot. Your ears are dull from hearing their harsh speech, I think." Jote paces closer to Fran, her steps slow and taunting as she struts past. "Viera who have left the Wood are viera no longer." She pauses by the edge of the platform upholding the building. "Mjrn, too, has left Her embrace." Balthier steps up.

"And you forsake them in turn?"

"It is the will of the village," she replies simply, turning to face him. Her face still holds disdain for any of the hume kind. "Viera must live always with the Wood. So is the Green Word, so is our law." Her voice increases in volume as she speaks, her words tight and sharp.

"We'll let you worry about keeping your laws," Vaan scoffs, joining Fran's side. "Just do us a favor and stay out of our way. We'll find her ourselves." Jote hangs her head, a pale green mist rising from beneath her heeled shoes. Her hands raise out to her sides and she takes a deep breath, frowning.

"Our sister has left the Wood and gone west. She wanders among men who hide themselves in clothes of iron armor. Thus to me has the Wood spoken." With that, she turns and starts toward the doors of the stone hut, stopping only when Fran speaks.

"The viera may begin as part of the Wood, but the Wood is not the only end we may choose."

"The same words I heard fifty years ago," Jote mutters. Fifty years… Fran's been around for a longer time than I originally thought, then. She disappears for good this time, closing herself behind heavy copper doors.

Sighing, Fran turns on her heels and leads the way down the path. I look around once more before following the others, reading the disappointment in the viera's steps. Balthier makes sure to walk at her side the entire way out, staring hard at the scowls of the irate viera. At the exit, Balthier turns and genuinely smiles at the angered thief trailing behind him.

"Not bad, Vaan. Didn't think we'd get any information out of that one." Winking at the boy, he faces toward the wooded walls surrounding the viera village. "So then, what was she saying about men in a warren?"

"The Henne Magicite Mines—maybe that's what she meant," Larsa offers, glancing up at me.
"They lie in Bancour, south of the Ozmone Plain. I know Shae's visited there before to retrieve nethicite." I nod, avoiding Balthier's stare, which quickly sharpened at the mere mention of the stuff.

"The whole region is a colony of the Archadian Empire. The iron armor she spoke of would be the soldiers."

"Is that a problem?" Balthier asks Larsa, turning and nodding toward the exit. "Let's move."

As he takes a few hurried steps forward with Fran hot on his heels, they're stopped by Vaan's voice.

"Fran!"

"Yes?" The viera turns back to face him, an ear twitching as she prepares to listen. Balthier looks all too impatient, staring hard at the boy with an arched eyebrow.

"I was wondering—what Jote said, you know?" Vaan steps forward, scratching at the back of his neck sheepishly. "About how you said the same thing fifty years ago?"

"Your point?" Fran asks, eyes narrowing. I cringe at the words flowing from the boy's mouth, kicking myself for not stopping him.

"Uh… How old were you again?"

Fran's face falls and the forest falls dead silent. Balthier's eyebrow shoots to his hairline, his face stricken with awkward horror at the thief's innocent inquiry. I shudder as the viera turns and walks away coldly without a word. Groaning, Balthier throws his arms out to the side before huffing and following his newly irritated partner.

"Nice, Vaan."

The others follow, shaking their heads or simply ignoring Vaan. I sigh, struggling to keep my secondhand embarrassment at bay as I pass by. Larsa scoffs.

"Surprisingly rude," he mutters as he strides by the uncomfortable boy.

"Try to grow up, please," Penelo admonishes, brushing past.

"Just… Mind your manners," I add in a low voice, rushing past to get to the front of the line and away from the pensive princess and her skulking knight. A laugh bubbles up from my stomach and I let it loose quietly as I run past Fran and Balthier, swinging around a lamp and throwing myself toward the top of the stairs we climbed down to find the viera path.

"Aren't you just bubbling with energy," Balthier mutters, glancing up at me as I bounce around on my toes.

"I'm feeling awake now," I laugh, stretching my arms overhead.

"Funny when you look like the dead."

"I'm quite the clown," I retort, turning to face the others joining us slowly. "Now, to find those mines."