"I can see why the crystals chose you. I can feel the light within you...strong, yet gentle…" – Aria

Luneth stared up at the sky whilst lying on his back and watching the seagulls reel and cry in an endless circle. What did seagulls even do? They made Luneth think of the ocean, but he didn't know why. Maybe they popped into existence simply for shipwrecked people like him to watch, given there wasn't much else to see aside from Max's barely-conscious body and Goro's constant sulking.

"Do they have seagulls where you come from?" Luneth asked.

"No," Goro said. "Now stop talking. I'm trying to think."

"But there's nothing to think about! How doesn't it drive you crazy?"

"I've had practice. Now shut up."

"Guys," Max rasped. "This isn't-"

"You too, future kid!"

Max quieted. Luneth humphed and crossed his arms. His legs rested over the edge of the remains of the Nautilus—Cid would have his hide for destroying the ship—and his head rested over his leather pack. From here he could the sky stretch on for ages. He could see the endless ocean and how it stretched on for ages. He could see…

Well. That was pretty much it.

Max coughed, and Luneth thought about how frail the human body was. If he didn't have the power of the Crystals, or if another one went down, he could be just like Max or Goro, where all he needed was a well-placed bullet, a magic spell, or a sword taken to his heart, and it was goodbye to this existence as he knew it. Odin, that was a scary thought.

"Goro!" Luneth said.

"What!"

"Are we there, yet?"

Goro growled. "You're the one that's from there, Tuesday! Why are you asking me?"

"You're the one sitting up straight!"

"Because you're too lazy!"

"I'm too hungry! My stomach feels like it's going to collapse!"

"Well, that's too bad, because I don't have a clue when we're going to reach land. If we're going to reach land And besides! You were the one who ate up all our reserves!"

"That's because I need the magic!"

"Yeah, that helped!"

Luneth groaned and rolled onto his stomach. He hadn't been this starved since they traveled the desert last year. If Arc were here, he would probably have gotten some mini-ed rations out of his bag. One day, Luneth would remember to start trying that spell with his own stuff, but it made things so hard to find sometimes, and that was just troublesome. He tried casting a spell, but the mana felt dry in his veins. It was like trying to jog without having water the whole day.

He pushed aside the issue of mana. He'd tapped into… something back in Queens. A kind of power that didn't require fuel. Luneth reached inside again, sensing at that same energy that strengthened his limbs despite the malnourishment, that gave him a well to draw back on despite his mana being depleted.

He stared down at the water running beneath the ship, throat dry. One of the first things they'd learned in traveling the ocean was that no matter how thirsty one got, one should never drink the water they sailed in. Maybe if he could purify it…

Luneth needed a container to hold the water. He dug into his bag and fished out a potion that he promptly drank. It revitalized his systems and brought life to his veins and a sense of strength to his fingers.

The now-empty flask served as a perfect container, holding about a pint of ocean water. As he pulled from the the non-Crystal source, his desire to drink the water quickly dissipated. The need dissipated.

How could he remove the salt? Luneth narrowed his eyes, staring at the bottle. He could cleanse it of other impurities, but it still wouldn't do its job if it caused more thirst than it quenched. He and his friends had learned how to collect it with the right equipment, but it was the kind of equipment that couldn't be carried around in a traveling pack. He would have to pull the clean stuff some other way.

Usually, in this scenario, they would have assumed they would be working without magic. If one worked with salt water, that meant that it had gotten to the point where they couldn't just Geomancer their way through. Luneth held his hand steady above the flask. He didn't need to change jobs, since this power didn't come from there.

With a sort of nudge, the water between his fingers changed. Turned lighter and more translucent. He imagined drinking it and it just sort of… cleaned itself.

Luneth hesitated, swishing the water in his flask. It cleared, untinted by blue or green or foggy white. It looked better than the polished dishes in Saronia's royal chambers. He'd taken a couple of those once, fascinated by the pristine shine that Alus' servants had given them, though he'd never told anyone. But this… he'd just found out a way to clean water to the point that it put all the best goblets in the world to shame.

He took a small sip, just to be safe. It tasted… almost a little sweet. Like springwater. He could make springwater!

"Hey!" he said, scrambling over to Max's side. "I got water!"

"You what?" Goro grunted.

Luneth put the flask to Max's lips, coaxing a small sip's worth down his throat. "It's clean! Look!"

"How-?"

Max choked, eyes fluttering open a crack, and Luneth lifted his head up couple of inches to ease it in a little better. "It just needed a little magic!"

Goro scrunched up his nose. "It doesn't look like much."

"Of course, it doesn't. But we don't need much to survive, anyway. Okay, now it's your turn."

Goro started, scrambling back a bit. "I ain't drinking that!"

"I swear it's safe."

Goro looked between Luneth and the flask. "You sure?"

"Yes, now drink up. I need to make more. How far are we from the shore?"

Goro shot him a glare. "I said I don't know. You're the only one who could possible know that."

"Wasn't talking to you." Luneth tuned in, listening for the Crystals as he prepared another flask of water. They at least should have had an idea. They always did.

But they remained quiet. Not silent, just too quiet for him to hear.

"Hello?" he tried.

Still quiet. He tried focusing in, and that made a few words discernible, including "distance," "incapable," "dangerous…"

A sudden pain flared in Luneth's head and he cried out, almost dropping the flask.

Goro climbed over. "What was that?"

Luneth shook his head, filling the vial again. "Headache," he muttered.

"Not a bite?" Goro glanced suspiciously at the water, fingering his hammer. "I could try to take it out, if it was a fish."

"No," Luneth said. Crystals knew, Luneth could have done that himself. "It's fine."

Goro grunted and returned to his spot on the other side of the raft.

Luneth frowned at the vial as he swished it clean again. Was that pain from the Crystals?

He… couldn't tell.

Saronia had to be at least as big as Queens, Toan thought as he stared down the mass of buildings and life that fit into the rocky hillside like a snug blanket. The people here dressed differently from any others Toan had seen, with more ropes and belts and vests, and carts rolled by, showing they were still a few years behind the rest of Blue Terra, where automobiles were becoming everyday occurrences in Queens.

The air smelled like sea salt and fish and felt warm. As Toan weaved through the crowds, sweat beaded on his forehead and he wiped at his face.

"Halt," a guard said, appearing suddenly. From head to toe, he bore full-body plate that clicked as he stepped closer and he carried a sword at his side. Xiao bristled at the approach, but Toan simply gave him a blank look. "State your name, traveler," said the guard.

Wonderful. Not five minutes into a foreign city and already the authorities had him in their sights. "Toan. Why?"

The guard shook his head and gestured with a gauntleted hand. "Move along."

Toan quirked an eyebrow as he continued on his way. "That was kind of weird," he said to Xiao, who hissed back as they walked away. "Do they do that often?"

She twitched her ears and cocked her head to one side. Her version of a shrug.

People whispered all around him, pointing and gesturing. Perhaps he stood out amidst all the drab pastels?

Toan and Xiao passed houses ranging in size from hovel to two-story mansions. Most people appeared middle-class at best, with many passing in dirtied faces and ragged robes. Toan reached instinctively for his pouch as some urchins rushed past and laughed. They barely glanced his way as they chased each other down the streets. Banners waved a short distance away with many differently-colored streamers and handkerchiefs fluttering about on the wind.

Toan cast Xiao a look. "Parade?"

She darted off through the mass of people and Toan ran to keep up. It was hard to get through the dense crowd, but after some pushing and prodding, he finally saw the precession that made its way down the street. There was no music, strangely enough, but soldiers marched in formation, followed by a large palanquin.

"Come on," Toan said as Xiao peeked out from underfoot. "I don't think this will help us." He turned to leave again.

"Excuse me?" A young woman stopped him, "Pardon, but are you Master Arc?"

Toan froze. "What?"

"Oh, I guess not. Er, sorry, I just-"

"Wait, no-!" Toan tried to call her back but she disappeared into the crowd. Xiao cocked her head.

"Master Arc?" an older man asked, feeble hands grabbing Toan's. "The Council's been wanting your advice. We've been trying to contact you for months!"

"I'm not-"

"The Warrior Arc?" someone else asked.

"The sage?"

"A Warrior of Light?"

"He's here?"

Whispers spread like wildfire and before Toan knew it, half the city was on him, many crying for help. "My son!" a young mother called. "Please! You can heal him, can't you?"

"I-" Toan struggled to keep away as hands grabbed for his. "Who are all you people?"

He was trapped. Xiao's back arched and she hissed furiously, swatting her claws at the boots of those that got too close.

"What is this!" a man's voice bellowed. One of the guards. "What's going on here?"

"It's the Sage!"

"He's come to help us!"

"Please!"

"Back!" the guards shouted. "Back, I say! Everyone, remove yourselves! This man doesn't carry the Warrior's Seal! We'll have none of this during the King's March!"

Within minutes, more forces rushed in, breaking up the throng. Large hands grabbed Toan and yanked him away. Reacting by instinct, Toan reached for his sword, but the man who took him—one of the plated guards—held out his own blade as a warning and shook his head.

"What's going on?" a young, patient voice asked. "What warrants such noise?"

"Your Majesty!" a collection of voices cried. The soldiers all snapped to attention.

The crowd parted, forming a clean pathway to Toan and allowing him a clear sight of the newcomer. A young, fair-haired boy stood on the steps to his palanquin.

"Who are you?" the kid asked. He was dressed in elaborate, embroidered robes and coat, with a golden crown on his head that glinted in the sun.

"Just a traveler," Toan said, "from Norune Village on the other continent. Toan is my name and I was hoping to find someone here."

The kid looked at the two guards that flanked him on either side. "It's not him," he said simply. "What's all the commotion about?"

"He could be an imposter, sire. Look at how he's already got the city riled up."

"If you'll allow me," Toan said, "I actually came in search of Arc myself."

The kid raised an eyebrow. "Did you? To what end?"

"My brother's been missing for many years now and I think that this sage that everyone's talking about might be him."

The child-king step forward, a squadron of guards trailing behind him and shooing away civilians that got too close. He moved close enough for Toan to make out the purplish brown of his eyes. His skin was tanned and his hair a pale blond. And he couldn't be older than twelve.

"You certainly bear a likeness," the child said, still staring. Despite his physical appearance, he acted more like Toan would expect of someone several years older. "Come. Let's speak further at the castle."

The crowd whispered as the king motioned for Toan to join him in the moving box. Toan cast Xiao a glance before doing as asked. They raised no objection to Xiao following him into the palanquin.

It was late evening when Refia arrived at Starlight Temple, as per the advice of the Crystals. Stars twinkled in the sky above and the moon cast soft shadows over the temple's platforms. A huge, glowing crystal floated over the center and emitted a faint blue glow into the night. The buildings built around that Crystal with the way they all faced inward and the bridges between their platforms circled around the center.

Refia breathed out against the chill prickling at her skin. Wind gusted in from over the mountain, whipping at her dress and making her teeth chatter. She pulled her clothes in tighter but it made no difference.

The Crystals said, The old woman standing above you.

Refia followed their directions. The residents of this place—small rabbit people, it looked like—barely glanced her way. Her warrant for arrest either hadn't reached this far or the people didn't recognize her. Perhaps there wasn't much to recognize after she'd switched out her old clothes.

Refia made her way to the top of the ramps where the woman stood hunched over, staff in hand, and clothed in large robes. She turned to face Refia with a knowing smile.

"Ah," she said. "Dear me. A Warrior of the Crystals of the Light."

"Pardon?" Refia asked, stopping at the top, trying to smooth her clothes.

"This Crystal told me you were coming. I almost didn't believe him."

"… It told you."

"You're familiar with the feeling, aren't you?"

"I do. But I thought it was just us."

The woman pointed at the crystal, wind making her robes flap and billow. "They don't just choose Warriors, my dear. They also need guardians and sages."

"My Crystals told me that you would help me."

"Of course, of course." The woman waved her staff and yelled over the edge of their platform, "Rufio! Get me that book, won't you?"

"Yes, Crest!"

"No, you buffoon! It's 'Sage!' I'm not one of the rabble, here!"

"Yes, Crest!" One of the little rabbit people came hurrying up the ramp, a large tome in hand. "Here!"

"Now," the woman said, "I'm Sage Crest, caretaker around these parts. And you're little Refia, it seems. The Crystal told me all about how you and your friends saved the world from being sent off into the void all those years ago. We owe our lives to you, my dear."

"Oh." Refia fidgeted. "Um, you're welcome. We did our best."

"Right you are! Anyway, this book, see…" Crest opened it, frail pages crackling in her weathered hands. "What was it you wanted to know again?"

"The moons. What happened to the moons?"

"The moons?" Crest repeated, eyes wrinkling as she slammed the tome shut. "My dear! No one remembers that! The other moon disappeared when a certain other pair of travelers stopped it from crashing into the planet! If that's all you've come for, I'm afraid that this was all a waste of time!"

Refia flushed. "W-what?"

"It's quite silly, actually. By doing so, they caused other travelers to leap through time and try to fix it."

"Well, what about the Crystals? Why do I only feel the three?"

"Oh, yes, you left before it happened, didn't you?" Crest opened the tome again and flipped towards the end.

Refia swallowed – a sickly feeling clouded her stomach at the way Crest hesitated over one page.

"Without the four Warriors of Light," Crest said, clouded eyes skimming the book's pages, "not all the Crystals could be restored. With Luneth gone, the Wind Crystal remained silent. Years have passed and most have given up hope that either it or its hero will ever return."

"Luneth?"

"He disappeared, dear," the woman said, solemn. "Something happened, something quite terrible, in the Cave of Tides and he vanished into thin air Your friends, they didn't do so well after that, I'm afraid. Why, the First Sage, his heart shattered without his friend. But there's nothing we can do there, Refia. It sounds like whatever occurred was beyond anyone's control."

No such thing, Refia firmly told herself. "What else does the book say?"

"Not much. It does say, in the words of the First Sage, that the hero Luneth was possessed by some demon that also took his friend, and when he disappeared, the friend recovered right quick. Hence the belief that there was nothing to be done. Took it with him, it appears. A heroic sacrifice for the good of the world."

"Unless I can kill the creature," Refia said. "Unless I can get rid of it before it takes him."

"True. I'm sorry I couldn't bear happier news, child. Is there anything else you wish to know, that might help you in the past?"

Refia hesitated in thought. "Yes, actually. What can you tell me about Ruby the Genie?"

Crest froze. "The King's mother-in-law?"

"… Yes?"

"Well." The book closed again. The woman's expression hardened and her voice grew tight. "She killed a lot of people in her time. Not that the people now know, but back, way back when, she was all but a weapon. She's a genie, see. Holds a lot of power that you can see even now in little Princess Monica. Never know what she's after, either."

Seda may not want to hear from me, but if you get the chance, try mentioning my name.

"Why, dear? How did you hear about her?"

Refia snapped back to the present. "It's nothing. Just wondered about some stories I heard."

"You're exhausted, I see. Come, let me get you something to eat and drink. Anything especial you're craving? I can't make any promises, given how much food had changed in the past few hundred years, but I'll see what I can do."

Refia let the woman move her along, protests dying on her tongue. She felt numb, and her mind foggy. Crystal dead. Luneth… gone. And she didn't know how to get back to the past.

The evening was bright and warm. Monica wiped at her brow, suffering in the humidity. The stifling air of the forest seemed to follow them even into open spaces.

She trudged ahead of Ingus and Arc, both of whom—despite their insistence on going fast and far—lagged far behind, and Monica slowed to stay at pace with them.

Wind gusted through the trees and along the beaten path those in Matataki dubbed a "highway." Leaves and brush crunched under Monica's feet, cast about by the wind, and the sun glared orange on the horizon.

The road was quiet and still, save for the distant thumping of hooves and other kinds of feet. Some sounded heavier and closer than others. Monica fingered one of her monster badges at the reminder.

The sun sank further into the horizon as they walked until stars appeared in the darkening sky. The forest quieted further aside from feet trotting about.

She paused again to let the other two catch up. Ingus was faster than Arc, but even he struggled. At this rate, they would have to stop and rest before reaching the edge of the forest.

You could just get rid of them, came a thought in the same voice as from Queens. They're dead weight to you, of course.

Fire lit in her hands and she blasted the area with magic before she thought better. Aggravation rattled her mind and surged in her veins like the voice that refused to be ignored.

A knife thudded into the ground less a yard in ahead and she jumped. Then grabbed her sword.

That's why it was so empty, she realized, mentally kicking herself. Fairies wandered these roads after sunset. It was almost laughably stupid of her to summon them with bright magic.

As if to prove her right, a scruffy wolverine jumped out of the shadows, shortly followed by a tiny fairy. A pixie of some kind? Monica didn't recognize it.

Arc jogged up to her, a staff materializing in his hands. "Looks like a Tuesday," he said, breathing heavily. "I read about those in Norune."

No problem, she thought to himself as Ingus came up on her right. Even in their current state, those would be easy kills for-

A hulking and purple, hound-like creature almost as big as the trees themselves lumbered out after them, throwing aside both fairies with a quick swipe of its horns. Those horns by themselves were bigger than Monica.

"Behemoth," Ingus said flatly. "That's just unfortunate."

"I assume we fight?" Arc asked. "Losing a hungry beast like that is notoriously difficult. But with the fever, if I'm not careful, I could light the whole forest—"

"Shut up and move!" Ingus said, charging. Arc yelped, and the air around him lit up with a faintly purple glow.

Monica turned to the behemoth, which slowly stepped forward, growling. Its fur was patchy with blood.

Use me.

That voice again! Not now!

Monica fired at the behemoth with her bracelet and the air chilled. Fog rose around her, and she darted a look to Arc, whose previous clothes had somehow disappeared and been replaced with black robes over white- and blue-striped pants. A large, pointy hat rested on his head and he muttered something under his breath, face pointed toward the ground.

Monica startled when he snapped his attention forward again. The sky split with a flash, and a deafening boom sounded through the forest as a streak of lightning connected with a nearby tree. It cracked.

Ingus froze in the middle of charging the beast, watching the tree tilt, then fall. Monica moved toward Ingus as the beast howled in surprise and rage. The tree slammed into another, then fell to the ground with a loud thud, separating the beast from Ingus.

"Sorry!" Arc called.

Two, three more trees split with the impact, one of them also falling. Monica cast Arc a wary look.

The sun and its light were completely gone now, and it was a struggle to see through the dark. Another wolverine appeared, howling madly. Monica grabbed Arc and started running. There were probably at least a few other fairies and creatures that heard the noise.

"Go!" she called to Ingus, who was trying to dislodge a branch from his boot. "They're going to wake up the whole forest!"

Monica yanked Ingus free of the branch and all three of them ran.

The behemoth was trying to climb over the new pile of tree trunks. Monica cursed. If it was the behemoth by itself, they would probably have been able to handle it okay, but the addition of that wolverine and the rising clamor of other forest critters complicated things.

Arc yelped at the approach of a wolverine and snapped up a barrier of ice that circled the three of them, forcing them to stop in their tracks.

A pack of the beasts appeared and slammed against the ice and Monica spun around. There were about a dozen of them, maybe less. And there was that behemoth, whenever it finally caught up. They were surrounded.

"What now?" Monica asked as the shield cracked. Apparently it wasn't meant to protect against so many claws at once.

"I've got this," Arc said. He pulled more ice from the chilled air and arranged a circle of spikes around him.

The barrier shattered just before the spikes shot off, one of them taking a wolverine in the chest, another in the head. About half of the creatures fell to the blast, stabbed through with icicles. The rest panicked, some darting off into the dark. A couple remained, eyes wide with fear.

Something slammed into Monica from behind.

She hit the ground, pain blossoming in her knees and back. Fangs snapped as two–no, three wolf-like beasts bore down on her. Monica tried kicking back, but it did no good. Hot blood seeped over her skin and soaked into her clothes.

Arc screamed in a language that Monica couldn't understand, and fire exploded around her. She let out a shout and held up an arm to protect herself, but the flames barely touched her.

She breathed hard for a moment. The smell of burnt fur and flesh stung her nose and she lowered her arm to see smoke wafting from blackened sticks and singed grass.

With a pained groan, Monica hauled herself into a sitting position, teeth grit and one eye starting to swell. Whimpers sounded around her as the life edged out of the wolverines. None of them moved, now. Not beyond some thrashing and twitching, at least.

Arc breathed heavily nearby, hands on his knees. Ingus stood stiffly, jaw tight and skin pale.

Monica stood as Arc yanked an icicle from the air and started sucking on it. Everything had grown quiet and still—

A roar shattered the air.

Monica whipped around. She couldn't see anything in the dark, but she knew where that sound came from. The behemoth.

The three looked between each other. "Still think we can take it?" Monica asked.

Ingus said, "We may as well take out this last beast after frightening off the rest."

Monica groaned, fumbling with her sword. Could she even still fight?

The voice from before whispered in her head, I'm always here.

Arc promptly dropped his icicle and rushed over. His face was flushed, likely from fever. He was pushing himself too hard, given his injuries, but rest would have to wait.

Arc's clothes changed again as he moved, this time to white and pink robes.

… With a cat-eared hood?

Monica opted not to question it as Arc's hands lit with a blue glow. He paused once he entered arm's reach and hovered the palm of his hands over her injuries. Monica could smell the blood on him as he approached and hear the phlegm in his lungs as he breathed. The spell he held in his hands rushed through her system and soothed her pain. Flesh sealed up again and blood dryed against her skin. "Wow," she said. "That's amazing. Where'd you get a power like that?"

"Crystals," Arc said quickly. "I thought we told you."

"All we could do was make houses."

"You what?"

"Oi!" Ingus called. "You would leave me alone?"

Arc joined Ingus, glow dissipating from his hands. "I should have you know, my mana's really low..."

Ingus looked at him in disbelief. "Already?"

"I'm sorry! I'm still recovering, and that was a lot of magic just now!"

"Fine. Monica! On my right!"

Monica nodded and followed. And stopped short when a faint glimmer on Ingus' neck caught her eye. Monica grabbed him by the arm. How did she not notice before?

The roar came again, closer this time, and Monica instinctively lifted her sword.

"Arc," Ingus said. "Can you at least use a dagger?"

"Uh…"

"You've been changing jobs again, haven't you?"

Arc nodded sheepishly.

"Use your staff or some arctic winds, then."

Arc nodded. Monica tensed as the beast appeared in the shadows of the forest, fangs exposed in a snarl.

Monica and Max fought much bigger and more powerful creatures before, but she still couldn't help feeling a intimidated. Normally, Max would use the ridepod to deal with things this big. The behemoth's eyes were wild with rage, and its paws pounded the earth with the strength of one of Max's hammers. Times a thousand.

"What's it doing here?" Arc asked. "Behemoths don't tend to wander the forest…"

No one had time to answer as the behemoth closed in and Monica and Ingus leaped into action.

Monica took one of the big horns and leveraged that to get herself on the thing's head. It was tall enough that so long as she held her grip, she could stay a safe distance from the thing's fangs.

Ingus looked to be having a harder time, as he was forced to twist around its enormous claws.

She steadied her stance as the beast let out a howl of frustration. It swiped at her, but Monica could see this thing's moves from a mile away. Those large claws didn't move quickly.

"In the eye!" Ingus shouted. "Stab it through!"

"Here!" Arc said, throwing a blast of ice that exploded around the behemoth's haunches.

Monica wobbled dangerously on the beast's snout, cursing. "A little warning next time!"

The beast lurched, stumbling. She let go of her grip and slid down the snout, using her momentum to bury her blade in its eye all the way up to the hilt.

The behemoth growled softly and collapsed.

"What was that?" Monica asked, pulling out her sword and searching for a way to navigate across the monster's snout. "It was better than most bombs I've worked with!"

"Arctic winds," Arc said, hefting what looked like a block of ice in his hand. "Always want to keep them on hand."

Ingus nimbly scaled the beast's face, joining Monica. The behemoth gave a weak moan, and Monica grimaced, whispering quietly in its language, soothing it as it bled out.

Ingus narrowed his eyes at her, but Monica pretended not to notice. A lot of people didn't understand such things. Even Max thought the time she spent among the fae was strange.

It was a quick death, at least. Slower than she'd intended, but not drawn out.

Silence fell. Monica breathed in, then out. The air felt cold on her skin, a slight breeze chilling her blood-soaked clothing. Ingus kneeled beside her, looking concerned. "You're hurt," he said.

Monica snorted. "Just a scratch. That healing spell of Arc's got most of it. I'm sure it looks worse than it-" She cut off when she caught again that glimpse of a glittering, teardrop pendant hanging out from under his collar. She tentatively reached out, causing Ingus to raise an inquisitive eyebrow. She took the jewel in one gloved hand and rubbed the grime off to reveal a glimmering surface.

Monica wordlessly removed her charm from her pocket and let it rest in her hands. Ingus' brow furrowed as he looked between the two.

Arc trudged over, casting glances over his shoulder. "Shouldn't we be going now?"

Monica nodded and pocketed her jewel again. Ingus covered his with a fist.

"There were only so many," Monica said as they started walking again. "How did you get that?"

There was a moment of silence. "I assumed my parents had given it to me."

"May I?"

Ingus hesitated, then unlatched the band from his neck. Monica took it and held it together with hers. There were some imperfections in Ingus' stone that weren't in hers, some dark splotches and artifacts inside the gemstone. The shape wasn't as full or skillful as hers, more elongated than it should be. A common mistake made by the jewelsmiths, if Monica remembered correctly. "You knew your parents well?"

He shook his head. "None of us chosen by the Crystals had living parents. We were found alone on a crashing ship and given to adoptive homes before the Crystals brought us together."

"Clearly this wasn't meant for someone of royal blood. But all the same, there's no way you should have it. My father was the one to introduce the knowledge of mining the deposits down south. He also introduced this special design to mark all who belonged to his household. And I've found evidence to show that my kingdom doesn't exist here or now."

Monica handed him the jewel back. He quickly latched it back on. "You should believe them, when they say you're from the future. It's the only thing that makes sense."

Arc glanced between the two, staff vanishing from his hands. "Ingus-"

"It was found on me after the crash," Ingus said. "Cid didn't tell me anything else."

"What Ruby said-"

"Appears to be true."

"Wait," Monica said. "Ruby? Ruby? You didn't tell me you knew her, too! I've been wondering where she went after we met her!"

"She's gone," Ingus said. "She left with Refia."

"But!" Monica looked frantically between them. "That settles it! You did come from my father's time! You knew him!"

"In a time that no longer exists," he reminded her. "I may have seen his face as a child, but that memory has long since faded from my recollection. And she said it was from the past."

"That can't be right. Who took you from your time?"

"If I may," Arc said, fidgeting with his bag. "I have a journal that talks about this exact thing. I think we owe you a bit of catching up." He pulled out a stack of papers.

Ingus gave him a confused look, "What happened to the journal?"

Arc gave a nervous laugh. "I, uh, it slipped from my hands. It was old, so…"