As the afternoon wore into evening, Erenville ruminated on what he'd divulged mere bells ago. They'd not pressed him on it further, but he couldn't get the thoughts out of his head. He'd never truly felt himself in groups — especially ones so diverse and filled of such recent acquaintances — but he'd willingly shared so much of himself. Perhaps the scents and sounds of a near-forgotten home had brought sentiment back into his life. It had brought other things.
In his time across the salt, he'd forgotten many things. The feel of the air. The food at the markets. Even turns of phrase oft uttered from his lips in Tural. They'd all come back to him in a flood once he'd come back to shore. And with those memories brought back that dream of the city of gold. A legend he'd spent countless days researching in the Studium, then abruptly stopped as his duties as gleaner picked up. Contented to settle himself down once again, delve into solitude as he found a new place to be comfortable.
But now he'd returned. Another thing he'd thought he'd never do. Not out of a disinterest, but simply because he'd been gone for so long. And never did he think his return would be with others. Certainly not Eorzea's Warrior of Light, nor three Sharlayan prodigies. But here he sat, chewing away at some food he'd packed as he watched a fire burn in Urqopacha. Below, in a fog-shrouded ravine, Wuk Lamat — another part of his past he never expected to see again — hunted down an alpaca. It gave him a sudden craving for mezcal. But it would be wasted pel.
As the sun fell far below the horizon, he started to wonder if they ought to check on her, but he knew it would disqualify her. And she would never let them hear the end of it anyhow. He wondered to himself if she truly did want to be the next Dawnservant. Would it be so bad if she did? He shook his head, of course it wouldn't be terrible. Not near as bad as if Bakool Ja Ja or Zoraal Ja, the former more than the latter. Though he couldn't say he was keen on his plans of conquest.
At the same time, he knew she wasn't ready either. She knew too little about her own people, having spent all of her life in Tuliyollal. She couldn't even bear to be around an alpaca — one of the most important creatures to the Turali — let alone understand the struggles of the people who tended them. She likely didn't understand the struggles of most of her people.
But her heart kept shining through. She did try to understand. In each place they went, she tried to learn about them and their strife. Perhaps her father had meant for her to learn. For all of the Promises to learn, since they surely all needed to. And of them, she seemed to be the one understanding the lessons best. It felt like something he'd be put through. A lesson from his mentor to enlighten him in some way or another. And he would follow their wisdom without question.
"Should we go check on her?" Alisaie asked.
"Perhaps? I would have expected her to be back by now," Mablu said, glancing towards the ravine. He frowned. They could put a little more faith in her.
"No. This is her task and she needs to see it through." Mablu let worry crease her face, but the Warrior of Light nodded in agreement.
"You remind me of Tobli. You have a stern way of caring…but you do care."
"I'd hate to see her come all this way, just to fail at the hands of an alpaca."
"I think 'hooves' would be more appropriate," Alphinaud chimed in with a smile. "But I agree with Erenville. Let's give her more time. I'm certain she'll succeed."
The setting sun tinted the sky in pinks and lilacs. A beautiful landscape painted by the Twelve themselves — if one put their faith in them. Once, not long ago, he would have said the sky looked the same no matter where in the world he traveled. Yet, somehow he felt himself unable to say it this time. Though he knew it looked the same, it felt different. Seeing it again in the mountains of Urqopacha. Breathing in the crisp air of the mountains of a place he had called home.
Perhaps nostalgia had taken him over. The same reason he'd so willingly dredged up his past and aired it to people who were relative acquaintances. Trusted — and trustworthy — acquaintances, but acquaintances nonetheless. Oh, how his mentor would have loved to see him now. Maybe even laughed.
"So, how do you and Wuk Lamat know each other?" Mablu asked. Their eyes all turned towards him. Had it only been Lunaire, mayhaps he would have considered sharing. But he let a coy smile soften the corners of his lips.
"I daresay I've recounted enough of my past today. I'd like to leave the rest of my mysteries for another day." Krile looked the most disappointed, but he would not waver under her quavering frown. "I think I'll take a quick rest, while we wait."
He got to his feet and paced over to the tent. None of them had used it yet, despite his and Lunaire's efforts to set it up, so he decided to make use of it. He unrolled his sleeping mat and laid down, but kept himself turned away from the fire. From the prying eyes who may catch the worry creasing his brow. He had no doubt she would return. But in what state?
Even though she'd managed to saddle the wild alpaca on the ranch with ease, he doubted a proper valley alpaca would be the same. An enemy or creature lurking about in the fog below would be no match for her. Her combat prowess would be considered enviable by most, and only appeared lacking in any form due to Lunaire's presence — who could put even the most formidable Mamool Ja mercenaries to shame. In that respect, he had no concern.
But she had to be more delicate in handling the alpacas, all while still having a sense of nervousness in their presence. And she would not give up until she succeeded. Even if it meant running herself ragged. If he could've gone down there to scold her when she became weary, and suggest in no uncertain terms that she would be better taking a break if she wanted to make progress. Not that she would listen to him, she never did. He shifted on his sleeping mat in order to keep himself from loudly huffing. Even in his thoughts, she managed to vex him. Twelve forbid if he actually could have gone down there to see it with his own eyes.
But he would be proud when she returned. Golden alpaca or not, he would be proud. He already was. Erelong, she would ascend the ravine, tugging the rambunctious-creature-made-docile behind her using a saddle she'd worked diligently to trade for with the Pelupelu. The Wuk Lamat he once knew would have never been capable of such a feat. She'd grown much over a matter of a few days. Could he say the same of himself? Had he grown? He liked to think he had. After all of his travels, he felt he'd become a different man from the one who'd first left Tural. But had he become a man to be proud of? Had he grown into the sort of man his mentor believed could find the city of gold? He wondered.
Author's note: I have a lot of assumptions with Wuk Lamat and Erenville's relationship that I'm sure will end up being confirmed wrong, but I get a strong older brother vibe off of him. Just how exasperated he seems by her at times, but how proud he is of her as well. I also feel that her father slipped a little hint as well, but I could have misinterpreted it as well. He seems to know all of the siblings a little more than he lets on, in my opinion.