Even the moonlight feels like its kissing my skin, raining down light that isn't produced by a magic flame. I take a deep breath and reach out a hand to stroke mine and Vaan's chocobo's face. My fingers disappear underneath layers of golden down. I can feel Larsa standing at my side, eyeing the bloodstains trailing down my shirt.
"Are you going to wash up?" he asks.
"Eventually," I shrug. "I don't mind showing what I've survived, though," I add, giving him a gentle, teasing smile. "Think it'll scare those Imperial soldiers away?"
"They might just believe they're seeing a ghost," he nods, smiling. He turns to Ashe. "Will we be making camp here?"
"It's all we can afford," she admits, glancing over at Balthier and Fran. "I'd rather not return to the garif people tonight."
"Understandably so," I nod, pulling myself away from the chocobo and turning to face Ashe and Basch. "Are we holding up well?"
"As well as I can be," Basch replies with a nod. "And you? You took a beating."
"A little sore," I shrug, wandering toward the towering stone walls creating a sort of valley between the jungles and the plains. "But, all things considered, I'm doing pretty damn good."
"I'm glad," Larsa nods, earning a gentle smile from Ashe.
Conversation fades and I curl up against the side of the stone, my back facing everyone else. Sighing, I close my eyes and let the weight of my exhaustion cover me like a blanket. Slowly, ever so slowly, I drift off to sleep, drawn back from the edge only by the feeling of someone pressing their back to mine. A sleepy smile draws across my face and I push closer the slightest bit to absorb their warmth. Goodnight, Larsa.
In the morning, I'm the last to rise. Quickly, Ashe has us prepare and hop onto our chocobos. I wrap my arms around Vaan once more, nearly on the edge of sleep as we take off with my cheek rested on the back of his shoulder. The chocobo sways gently with every step, only picking up speed when Larsa points out the best way to the Henne Mines. I fight to stay awake as we ride some more, startled as we leap over a long gap and I gasp, clinging even tighter in surprise. They laugh at me; I roll my eyes. Finally, I slide off the back of the chocobo when it stops. Vaan starts to speak when Penelo cuts him off.
"W-what is that?"
I turn to see a pile of bloodied, mangled bodies stacked outside the mouth of the cave. Shuddering at the heavy scent of blood, I step closer, Larsa at my side. I kneel in front of one of the bodies, my fingers tracing over bent and torn armor.
"Researchers from the Draklor Laboratory," Larsa muses. "What were they doing here?"
"Research," Balthier replies dryly.
Without anything else to add, I straighten and head for the mouth of the cave, drawing my spear. After yesterday's fiasco, I can't fall behind again. I can't be a liability. The first bat that dives at me is dead with one sharp stab from my weapon. We travel deeper into the mine, the walls swapping between brick designs and dirt constantly. Tracks trail along the ground, ready for minecarts to return overflowing with nethicite.
Basch takes a good slash across the front from an angered cluster of seekers, Vaan constantly pressing buttons that open and close gates for our path. The mines are a labyrinth, winding with tunnels and locked doors and a variety of flan. The harder I try to stay alert, the more exhausted I feel. I meant for the skies and quick travel, not chocobo rides and day-long walks.
"It's so dark in here," Vaan complains, frowning at his blood-stained dagger.
"If you would like to add to the mine's budget for electricity, I would not mind," Larsa replies smoothly, a coy smile lifting across his lips. Penelo laughs, shaking her head.
"He can't! He's been broke since Shae stole his gil."
"I stole it fair and square," I shrug, patting the pouch underneath the orange sash draped across the side of my leg. "He can pout all he wants, but he's got to steal it back."
"I've tried," Vaan groans, rolling his eyes when Penelo ruffles his hair gently.
"It's alright, Vaan. We all know you have a lot of work to do before your pirating skills are any good."
"Hey!" They bolt off ahead of us, shoving and laughing. I huff.
"Glad to see we recharged the entertainment equipment."
"Are you really?" Balthier asks, raising an eyebrow. "I suppose you're part of their ranks."
"I'd consider myself half a level above," I reply with a nonchalant shrug. "I've at least owned a ship."
"Yes, it was most impressive," Larsa nods, though his eyes are scanning the walls. I grin anyway, my chest flooding with pride.
"She was. My partner did a fantastic job recreating my visions."
"He was a most impressive worker," Larsa agrees. He pauses. "I worry we may encounter a difficult challenge here."
"Why's that?" I frown.
"I feel it too," Fran speaks up, lifting her face to the gentle draft drifting over our heads. "We have yet to face a true figth in these mines." Her face falls, brows pinching together the slightest bit. "There is something odd about the Mist here."
"If Fran says so, then I'll believe it," Balthier sighs. "How close is the danger?" Fran's frown deepens.
"I am uncertain."
"That's reassuring," I huff, kicking at a loose stone on the ground. "Larsa, these mines look fairly empty to me."
"Why do you think they go so deep?" my brother counters, raising one dark eyebrow. "I thought Dern might have taught you that." My teeth instantly clamp down on the inside of my cheek, my heart aching with anger and pain. Balthier's steps falter for half a second, hardly noticeable. Luckily, I notice.
"We near it," Fran says, covering whatever it was that Balthier meant to say next.
"Look—the magicite," Larsa points out, motioning to the walls that grow denser with an underlying blue light. "These mines much resemble the ones at Lhusu." His pale eyes dawn with realization. "Of course. Draklor must be searching for new sources of ore. Should the Resistance forces move, the rich veins of magicite in Bhujerba will be forever beyond their grasp."
There's a groan and Larsa immediately runs toward a guard laying on the floor. Fran gasps, clutching a hand to her chest.
"Is it her? What is this Mist?"
Larsa and Vaan stop as a short-haired viera stumbles into the open, seemingly lost in a daze. She murmurs to herself aloud as she unsteadily walks across the stony ground. If it wasn't so creepy, I'd say she was seriously drunk.
"The scent of humes. The scent of power," she chants.
"What's wrong with her?" Ashe asks, stepping up to Fran's side. Mjrn's head snaps around to face us, her eyes wide with rage and her clawed finger pointing toward us as her voice takes on four different tones.
"Stay away!" she shrieks. "Power-starved hume!"
She turns on her heels and sprints away, wavering from side to side as if she's being dragged by a rope. I shudder; that's by far the most unnerving sight I've witnessed on this trip. Fran looks just as stunned as the rest of us. Balthier shakes his head, clutching his gun.
"Shall we go after her, then?"
"We must follow her," Fran mutters, shaking her head. "Mjrn..."
We hurry down the hallway even though every nerve in my body screams for me to turn back because it's not safe. Something is off. We enter the next area quickly, a round room leading off into another hallway. Mjrn skitters away once more, her disturbing flops and flails leaving me horribly uncomfortable.
My heart leaps into my throat when a monster the size of the room itself catches my eye. How I didn't notice it, I have not the slightest clue. The giant creature, shaped and scaled like an ancient dinosaur, turns to face us, a loose ring hanging around its head like a lopsided halo. It roars its protest and stomps its feet on the floor, challenging us. And who are we to deny a fight?
Vaan dives right in, slashing at the monster's ankles and cutting through its thick hide. I stick to the corners of the room, watching it snap at the thief and Basch, who stay fairly close. Fran steps back and sets her arrow aflame, firing it into the face of the beast. Shrieking, the massive creature claws at her; she bounds out of the way, diving closer to avoid the pointed ends of its talons.
Taking advantage of the distraction, I dive in with my spear, driving its tip into the monster's flesh and using my momentum to pull myself up onto the beast's back. Clinging to the rough, worn scales running down its gray back, I pull my weapon free and clamber across its neck and onto its head. It shakes as if I'm merely a flea; I hang on tight.
When it stops, I take a deep breath and leap into the air, twisting around to jam my lance clean into its black eyeball. Practically screaming, the beast shakes me off violently. I fall to the ground with my spear clutched tightly in hand, rolling to my feet. I stumble uneasily when the monster stomps beside me. A fluttering green light hits my chest and spreads across my body. A spell sent from Larsa, no doubt.
Basch manages to slide underneath the creature and slice its vulnerable belly open. Blood pours down onto the ground, covering the knight's arm in a bath of crimson. As he makes his escape, the monster shrieks and stomps, rearing its head and snapping at random. It nearly beheads Vaan as it lashes out, its underside continuously spilling. I gag both at the sight and the smell; Ashe dives in at her opening and slits its wide throat. With a strained, gargled groan, the beast paws its last at Penelo and collapses onto its side.
We hardly have time to celebrate, hearing uneven steps behind us. Fran gasps, Mjrn stumbling toward us with a glowing blue stone in her hand. The nethicite clatters to the floor and rolls toward us, only to burst after coming to a stop. Fran rushes forward, stopped when a hovering shadow emerges from behind Mjrn's exhausted body. I grip my spear, watching as Balthier steps forward behind his partner. The shadow dissipates; Mjrn collapses to the floor, limp.
"That thing inside her. What was it?" Vaan asks, staring at the fallen viera. Fran doesn't answer, stooping down to lift the other viera up into her arms. Mjrn's eyes flutter up and she stares up at Fran.
"Is it you?" she asks, her voice light. Fran nods and Mjrn smiles, her head falling back against Fran's arm. Fran looks up at us after a moment, standing and taking Mjrn up in her arms.
"Let us find a place for her to rest."
~5 years before~
"What's for dinner?" I ask, tossing my heavy bag onto the dusty ground outside our tent. Dern shrugs, tossing a look over his bare shoulder.
"Check the dinner cart." He goes back to scraping at a stone with a small knife, carving a precise design into its smooth, cerulean surface. "I never know these things."
"Well, aren't you in a mood," I tease, crossing my arms. A woman walks by with her young daughter, balancing a water jug on her slim shoulder. Just as everyone that visits here, she gives us the slightest look of disapproval. Even the council hint that it's a bit... unnecessary for me and Dern to share a tent. Most, if not all, take it the wrong way. No, Dern is nothing more than my savior and friend.
"I'm concentrating," he huffs. Suddenly, he hisses, the stone clattering the ground abruptly. I sigh, crouching beside him to see a thin trail of blood trickling down his thumb. Fighting a smile, I look up at him through my lashes.
"Doesn't look like it."
"You distracted me," he grumbles, elbowing me away. Laughing, I stand, placing my hands on my hips.
"Aw, don't be like that. Why don't we grab us some dinner and watch that sunset of yours?"
Half an hour later, we sit on the edge of the cliffside that upholds the temple, its pilgrims, and its refugees. Tomorrow, Dern and I hunt for the evening meal. Tonight, we have the same vegetable stew served to everyone else that wanted dinner today. Some people prefer picking from the garden over leaving and hunting game—I don't blame them. It's dangerous out there. Dern's nearly died several times. I'm lucky I'm quick. I don't know what I would do if...
"You're thinking too much again," Dern points out, setting his empty wooden bowl to the side and leaning back on his palms, letting his bare chest absorb the fading sunlight. I tear my eyes away from mesmerizing ripples under his skin and raise an eyebrow.
"Not too much. Just musing."
"About...?"
"Hunting, food, gardens," I shrug. He chuckles, turning his gaze toward the clouds.
"What a variety of topics," he breathes. His eyes flutter shut before pulling open even brighter than before. "Someday, I'll make enough money to get a ship... I'll be a sky pirate, no matter what those councilors say about righteousness."
"I've yet to see you prove your prowess," I tease, nudging his side. He merely raises an eyebrow, tossing a fruit at me that seems to have come from nowhere. "Where did you...?"
"Madesi left his stand earlier," he shrugs, biting into the ripe, yellow flesh of the fruit. I laugh, shaking my head. That poor bangaa. I tear at the juicy treat, reveling in the taste. The taste of a dessert I can't afford. I swore I would save all my gil to help Dern.
"I'll take you, too, if you want." I almost choke.
"You would?"
"Don't act surprised," he laughs, drawing a knee upward and lying flat on his back, hands clasped behind his head. I set my bowl aside and turn to face him, cross-legged. My hair absorbs the heat of the sun, warming my head and shoulders. "You're small, Shae. Quick. Fantastic at calculations. No random girl should know how to solve such abstract things so easily." I swallow my fear, staring at the horizon.
"I hear my mother was a fast thinker," I murmur, trying my most common excuse.
"Aye, she was."
"What?" My heart leaps into my throat. He opens an eye, a sympathetic smile crossing his lips.
"At least, I've heard that too, from all the Archadians criticizing your father for his failure to be faithful."
"Dern," is all I manage to squeak out. He looks far too relaxed. Heard from the Archadians? I knew he must be from there, but this... I never inquired about Dern's past or his family and he never did the same. It was a mutual respect we held that let us pretend what was behind us could never surface again if we hid.
"Calm down," he smiles, propping himself up on one elbow. He reaches forward, taking one of my hands in his, an unfamiliar touch. "I understand why you never said anything. However, I think it may be time to reveal that I knew who you were the instant I saw you in the snow last year."
"Dern..."
"Hush, Sweetheart. Let me talk. You, my dear, are Shera Castean Solidor, daughter to Emperor Gramis Gana Solidor. And I, though you may not know the name well, am Adamar sien Bunansa, second son to Doctor Cid."
"Bunansa?" I frown, blinking at the man thought knew better. "Cidolfus?"
"My father," he nods, though there's a shift in his demeanor at the mention of the name. "My younger brother and I decided to leave Archades after a... falling out with him. He lost himself in his search for power; he was Cidolfus no longer."
"Your brother," I mutter, leaning closer. His eyes flicker up to mine. "What happened to him?"
"We chose to part ways after we were free. Though, there was strong distrust and bitterness between us after so many disagreements. I have not seen him since and most certainly hope to never see him again."
"I see." I huff, playing with his fingers absentmindedly. "Adamar... It sounds familiar."
"I was a Judge," he sighs. "Both of us were." I restrain my reaction and nod. Gods...
"I never said anything because I wanted to disappear, Dern," I explain in a low voice, meeting his eyes earnestly. He nods, squeezing my hand.
"Trust me; I know. We can put this behind us now, though. There's no more hiding for me." Smiling, I turn to the dimming sky. Clouds splashed with pinks and golds and violets scatter across the sky, creating a splatter painting of pure nonsensical, gorgeous color.
"Dern..."
"Fates above," he breathes, sitting up. "Beautiful." I look over to meet his lighthearted gaze, laughing and throwing my arms around him, holding him tightly. So cheesy.
"Do me a favor," I murmur, turning to watch the colors fade into dusk.
"Anything."
"Take me with you when you go."
"I will."
"Promise me," I demand. I pull away to hold up my pinky. He chuckles, linking his finger with mine and forcing me to meet his honest, earnest gaze.
"I promise."