The early morning hours on Mor Ardain brought no reprieve from the oppressive heat blanketing the Titan. Even as the sun was only just beginning to peak above the horizon, the temperature was already well above what any sane person would call comfortable.
It was, unfortunately, a side effect of the Titan's advanced age. As it grew older, the Titan was drawing in more and more ether in a vain attempt to offset the physical frailty that came with age. With so much energy within its body, some of that was naturally lost through thermodynamic principles as heat, which was then radiated away from the body.
For a smaller Titan, this would have been tolerable. Even the Titans that propelled the massive Ardainian battleships were small enough that simple convective forces were more than able to disperse the heat they generated as they entered their terminal phase.
The same could not be said for a Continental Titan, however. For them, their sheer size made it all but impossible to dissipate the heat faster than they could generate it. Instead, the surface temperature of their bodies would continue to rise, slowly killing off any plant and animal life clinging to their skin until once vibrant, temperate lands were reduced to a blasted, volcanic hellscape.
Mor Ardain hadn't quite reached that point yet, but it was not far off. Agriculture had been practically impossible on the Titan for over a century, and even now, all but the hardiest foliage had long since given way to arid badlands. Given another thirty years at most, even the humans who made their home here would have no choice but to abandon the Titan.
It was with this knowledge, ingrained into her mind so deeply that it was always floating around in the back of her head, that Morag knew the chill running down her spine had nothing to do with the weather.
No, the cause was something much different—the entire reason that she and Brighid were making their way out of the confines of the city at such an early hour, traversing a precarious metal catwalk bolted to the side of the Titan's shoulder.
The Special Inquisitor swept her gaze across the nearby cliff as she walked, checking for any sign of danger. The coast was probably clear, but the nature of the event that had drawn them was naturally causing her a degree of paranoia.
It only took a few minutes for them to reach their destination; a small, plain-looking building sat on the very edge of the cliff. From a distance, it appeared to be a small shack, lacking windows, but with a pair of doors facing outward instead, each crowned with a sign indicating that they were intended for use by a specific sex.
For the entrance to a world-famous hot spring, she had been expecting something a little more… impressive.
As had Brighid, based on the scoff that the fire Blade gave at the sight. Morag didn't let the idle thought slow her pace, though; she had more important matters to attend to than critiquing the aesthetics of a changing room.
Outside of the building, a pair of guards were on watch. Rather than the normal soldiers she was accustomed to dealing with, these were members of the Alba Cavanich city watch. Their equipment, although military surplus, was different than what the modern army used. It was at least a generation older, with the black jerkin replaced by a pale blue one. The helmet lacked a crown spike, and the faceplate did not possess a respirator, having been reduced to just a pair of goggles to keep the sand out of their eyes while on duty.
Despite their apparent vigil, she and Brighid were allowed past with little more than a respectful salute, something that rankled the woman. Even if her uniform and Blade were distinct, the guards should have stopped her in order to verify her identity. After all, there were ways to disguise someone as another person, and a crime scene important enough to summon her without providing details was certainly worth trying to sneak into.
Not that she had the time to lecture the guard at the moment. She would have to suffice with passing her displeasure on to the senior watch officer at the scene once she had been briefed on the situation.
Without a word, she strode through the women's changing room before emerging out the other side, on the patio built around the hot springs.
There were a dozen pools of varying sizes within, some enclosed by fencing to provide privacy, while others were fully visible the moment she left the building. All of them were empty, though, the entire place being a crime scene.
Around one of the open springs, a group of guards were gathered. Some of them were carefully inspecting the area of evidence, while others were holding a hushed conversation nearby.
Interestingly, the guards were not the old ones present. Mixed in with the blue-coated figures was a second group wearing the darker jerkins of the military proper. Even from here, she could see that their uniforms bore the rank insignia of recent recruits, an observation that was supported by the presence of a soldier wearing training corps equipment speaking with the watch captain.
There must be quite the interesting story behind that one.
Pushing that aside, Morag strode up to the captains, her hands folded behind her back. The guards, noticing the movement, took a healthy step back as she approached. It was impossible to see their eyes beneath the lenses of their goggles, but she assumed from their body language that their eyebrows were likely set quite high on their heads at the moment.
Noticing the behavior of their subordinates, the leaders turned to look at her. The watch captain was looking nervous, but the training instructor appeared relieved by her presence.
"Special Inquisitor." The latter greeted curtly, straightening to attention. "Thank you for coming so quickly."
"You can thank the guards posted at the entrance to the changing rooms." She replied, shooting a neutral look at the watch captain. "It would appear that they felt the situation was so time-sensitive that they neglected to verify my identity."
Her target had the good sense to wince at her thinly-veiled rebuke. "I see." He replied. "I will have to remind them of proper protocol going forward."
"See to it that you do." Morag dismissed. Turning her attention back to the training instructor, she asked, "What exactly is the situation here? The request I received stated that it was too sensitive for details."
The soldier inclined his head. "A murder, ma'am." He stated. "High ranking, too."
"Who?" Brighid spoke up, taking a step forward. "I cannot imagine a reason that this matter would require Lady Morag's attention, even if it were to be a nobleman or a senator."
"Funny you should mention senators." The man smiled weakly, gesturing for them to follow him. "Because our preliminary identification suggests our victim to be one."
Morag frowned, following after the man. "I assume you have a name, then?" She pressed.
"Yes." The instructor replied. "We believe the victim to be Senator Saundra Arascain." His lips thinned upon saying that, until he added, "I must stress that we haven't confirmed it yet, of course, but..."
"How unfortunate." Brighid muttered, her tone inflected with uncertainty. Morag couldn't help but fully agree with the sentiment. Senator Arascain—both of them, as her husband held a senatorial seat as well—were prominent members of the doves. The Misses in particular was a key ally of Emperor Niall in the Senate, helping promote his policies to push back against further escalation with Uraya.
If she was truly the victim, then Morag could fully understand why she had been called here. The senator had many political enemies, and if she had been murdered, then there was a strong possibility that it had been a political assassination.
The instructor waved to one of his trainees, who was policing the body. The soldier shot a nervous look toward Morag and Brighid, clearly unused to being in the presence of such high-ranking individuals, before giving a shaky nod. Hesitantly, the young woman pulled the sheet away from the victim's face.
"Damn." Morag muttered, kneeling down to get a closer look. There was no mistaking who it was. The middle-aged woman's face was bloated from floating in the water for so long, but even then, she was identifiable as the senator.
She immediately began inspecting the body for signs of a cause of death, pulling the sheet further down as she did. The senator was nude, which implied that she had been in the hot spring prior to her time of death. There weren't any immediate signs of injuries, but with the way she had been laid out on the ground, Morag was unable to inspect her back.
While she was doing this, she listened as Brighid questioned the instructor further. "Do you have an estimated time of death?" The fire Blade inquired.
"No earlier than 11:00 pm, Lady Brighid." The soldier replied. "That was the last time any of the staff checked on the springs before finding the body this morning."
Brighid mused at the information. "Is it normal to allow customers access to the springs that late?"
"According to the staff, no." The instructor stated, pointing over to a bench near the changing rooms. Sat upon it was a panicked-looking young Ardainian woman, wearing a uniform printed with the resort's logo. "Apparently, the hot springs are closed after 10:30 pm, but the senator had a special arrangement with the owner to allow her access after hours."
"I see." She replied, looking over at the woman. "And when was the body found?"
The instructor looked back at the staff member. "5:00 am, when our witness here came to clean the springs in preparation for opening hours." He informed her. "The first guards arrived within ten minutes of that, and my training cadre was called in to assist with securing the scene shortly after."
Morag continued to listen in as her inspection continued. While there may be no sign of injury, she doubted that there was no sign of foul play.
Gently, she pulled one of the corpse's hands away from where they had been placed, inspecting the woman's nails. If she had been assaulted, it didn't seem likely that she wouldn't have attempted to fight back. And if that was the case, then…
There it was. As she inspected the nails, it was immediately obvious that something was wrong. The senator had clearly kept her nails in meticulous condition, keeping them smoothly cut and intricately painted. Both the length and patterns were fairly common among noble and senatorial class women, so finding them came as no surprise.
Yet several of them had been visibly damaged. The nails of her index, middle, and ring fingers all bore visible wear, with the middle one being snapped off entirely.
In particular, the index nail seemed to have scratched against something tough. Just a quick feel showed that the very edge had been worn rough by clawing against something, and the handful of dark fibers still caught in some of the cracks told her what.
She placed the hand back down, pulling the sheet back over the victim before getting to her feet. "Is there any sign of her cause of death?" Morag inquired, turning to look at the instructor.
"Not as far as I am aware." He responded regretfully. "According to the woman who found her, she was floating face-down in the water. Lacking any other sign of injury, we are currently assuming that she drowned, at least until the autopsy results come in."
Morag nodded. "I see. Please have the body transported as soon as can be arranged." She instructed. "Do impress upon your men the importance of maintaining silence regarding this matter."
"Yes, ma'am." The soldier saluted.
As she stepped back, he turned to one of the trainees standing off to the side, a lanky man with a deactivated Megalance strapped to his back and a common male Blade standing behind him. "Trainee Jac, run back to HQ and arrange for transport for the body."
The young man stood straight. "Y-yes sir!" He replied, his helmet doing nothing to disguise his thick Gormotti accent.
Satisfied that her orders were being followed, Morag made her way over to the watch captain. He was issuing instructions to some of his subordinates but was keeping enough of an eye on her to react the moment she approached.
"Can I help you with something, your Grace?" He asked neutrally, giving her his full attention.
"Perhaps." She said, shooting a glance over at Brighid. The fire Blade had not remained behind her, instead turning her attention to the cliff the springs were butted up against. "I was merely curious if you had any additional insight into this matter."
He sighed, shaking his head. "I can't rightly claim I do." He admitted, his posture faltering slightly. "Things have been getting pretty bad the last few years. Crime syndicates taking root in the slums, unrest from the declining condition of the Titan, vigilantes prowling in the night…" He frowned at the last one in particular. "But something like this? The brazen murder of a senator? I don't know what to think."
Mulling over the question for a moment, he continued. "…I'll admit, I know some of her stances were pretty controversial in some circles, but I never thought it would come to something like this."
"I assume that uncertainty is the reason that you requested the presence of the training cadre?" She pressed. While it wasn't necessarily unusual for the military to become involved in law enforcement affairs such as this, especially in the capital, bringing in fresh trainees was. Doubly so considering that the trainer hadn't taken charge of the scene from the watch captain.
"Yes, your Grace." He confirmed. "Once we began suspecting that the senator was the victim, I knew that we were underequipped to handle the situation." He paused for a moment. "I put in the request for military assistance, but because I couldn't verify the identity of the victim, they were unable to spare any troops."
The watch captain glanced over at the training instructor. "Fortunately, Sergeant Hamish owed me a favor. He figured that assisting in securing the scene would help… acclimate some of his trainees to the reality of their line of work."
Which Morag didn't necessarily disagree with. There were a number of things that it was difficult to acclimate fresh soldiers to, and death was one of them. This was not the way she would have gone about it in the instructor's case, but so long as he had gotten the move approved by his superior officer, it wasn't a violation.
"Very well." She stated. "And you were certain that it was a murder, not an accident?" What she had seen while investigating the body provided sufficient circumstantial evidence for her to lean in that direction, but she was curious what had led them to the same conclusion.
"Not certain, no." He admitted, glancing over toward the covered body. "However, I saw you inspect the body. Would I be correct to assume that you saw the state of the victim's hands?"
"I did." She confirmed. "And I agree with the conclusion. However, you and I both know that it is not sufficient evidence."
He inclined his head. "While that may be the case, the circumstantial evidence was strong enough that I felt it would be unwise to not seek assistance from higher up."
No doubt, when he had said 'higher up', he had been thinking more along the lines of an officer from the local garrison, not her. Fortunately, she had been inspecting the garrison headquarters when the request came in.
Morag closed her eyes. "I commend your decision-making skills, in that case." She said. "Considering the identity of the victim, this is likely to become a complicated matter very shortly."
Before she could say anything else, she heard Brighid call out from behind her. "Lady Morag!" The Blade addressed her, "I believe I have ascertained the culprit's means of entering the premises."
She turned around, looking over at Brighid. The blue-flamed Blade was standing several feet from the cliff face, staring up at the ledge above with obvious intent.
From here, Morag couldn't see anything amiss, but she wasn't foolish enough to assume that meant there was nothing. Brighid possessed vastly keener eyesight than she did; if her Blade said something was there, then it probably was.
"What do you see?" Morag asked, walking up to Brighid.
"Scuff marks, Lady Morag." She replied. "Somebody either ascended or descended this cliff. Most likely within the last few hours."
Curious. Given the estimated timeline, it should have been fairly easy to enter the hot springs from the front. While the resort may have been closed at the time, the path from the entrance—part of the Jakolo Inn complex, a moderately expensive venue catering to tourists—was long enough that there were multiple easier access points a motivated attacker could have used that were easier to traverse than the cliff.
Glancing over her shoulder, she addressed the watch captain. "Are any of your men capable of scaling that cliff in a timely manner?" She asked.
Before he could answer, Hamish, the training instructor, spoke up. "I can, ma'am." He replied. "I have access to the footpath up the mountain—I would be more than willing to lead an investigation team to the location."
"Please do so." Morag replied with a nod. "Will you require assistance returning your trainees to the garrison?"
He shook his head. "That shouldn't be necessary, ma'am." The man replied. "I will order them to return with the retrieval team."
"Very well." She stated. Turning to look back at Brighid, she added, "Would you be adverse to remaining behind to aid in the investigation?"
The fire Blade inclined her head. "Of course not, Lady Morag." She replied. "Are you returning to the garrison, then?"
Morag shook her head. "No. I will be headed to the palace. Somebody needs to inform Senator Arascain-" She glanced over at the body before correcting herself, "The surviving Senator Arascain of his wife's death."
"Are you certain?" The watch captain stepped forward. "If it pleases her Grace, my men can handle that."
She offered him a wry smile. "That will not be necessary." Morag replied. "I am accustomed to giving such news."
Behind her, Brighid let out a sad sigh. "What an unhappy thing to become accustomed to…"
The Special Inquisitor didn't voice a disagreement. Instead, she offered Brighid a curt nod. "I will take my leave." She announced, beginning to walk toward the exit. "Should you find anything, please do not hesitate to inform me."
Her words were met by varied sounds of agreement, but nobody had anything else to request of her. As such, she walked back into the women's side of the changing room, exiting back onto the metal catwalk only a moment later.
As she wandered back to the city, blanketed in the silence of Brighid's temporary absence, she pondered the implications of the senator's death.
No matter how she looked at it, the fallout was going to be immense. Assuming this had been a political assassination—and Morag had a strong suspicion that it was—it meant that somebody was preparing to make a move. The most likely candidates were the hawks in the Senate, who were the victim's most obvious political opponents.
However, they were not the only ones. Brionac was rapidly becoming a concern, having grown rapidly over the past two years. While their rhetoric was certainly aggressive enough that she wouldn't put such an act past them, Morag wasn't convinced they were willing to commit such a brazen act against the Crown. Not unless they felt that they could weather the obvious retribution it would incur.
...Regardless of whether or not they were behind it, she would need to submit another request to the Emperor to allow her to dismantle them. As laudable as it was that Niall wanted to defuse the situation diplomatically, they had already made it more than clear that the only resolution they would accept was his abdication, or, more preferably, his death, and that the throne be given to one of their distant cousins.
He may be willing to ignore such outrageous demands, but she was not.
It was also possible that neither of those groups was responsible. Mor Ardain did not want for enemies, and in addition to Brionac there was no shortage of separatist groups within the empire that would jump at the chance to murder a senator, regardless of who it was.
There were too many potential culprits, and with how volatile the situation could become, she couldn't afford to jump to conclusions, least she miss something vital.
Morag was drawn from her musing by the sound of footsteps thundering down the catwalk, just around the corner from where she was. The Special Inquisitor paused, clasping her hands behind her back even as they itched to reach for the Whipswords at her waist.
A soldier raced around the corner a moment later, a messenger's satchel hanging from his shoulder. She couldn't tell for certain through the lenses of his gas mask, but he seemed to catch sight of her almost immediately. He slowed to a stop, offering the woman a curt salute.
"Special Inquisitor Morag!" He reported. "A message for you!"
Morag couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. It was rather early for her to be receiving a message, especially one important enough to dispatch a courier, rather than waiting for her to return to the garrison or the palace. "Pass it along." She ordered.
The soldier reached into his satchel, quickly pulling out a message cylinder. Her eyebrows rose even further at the sight—that was a low-clearance container, neither sealed nor possessing a lock. That shouldn't be the sort of thing that would mandate informing her immediately.
Well, unless…
All of a sudden, she was fairly certain that she knew what the contents contained. Taking the cylinder from him, she quickly opened the container and pulled the message out.
It was short, the mere handful of lines only taking her a moment to read. Her brow furrowed at the information within, especially the date that was posted on the header.
She briefly turned her eyes toward the soldier, who was still standing at attention. "Thank you." She stated. "You are dismissed."
"Yes ma'am." He replied, before hurrying back down the catwalk.
As he left, she glanced back at the message, restraining the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose as she felt a headache begin to form. When she had told the Aegis to inform her if he planned to visit Mor Ardain, she had sort of expected him to send word in advance, not the day after he landed.
"So, what's the plan for today?" Rex asked, glancing at the rest of the group spread out around the table.
It was a little later in the morning than most of them were accustomed to waking up. Perhaps it was a result of fatigue from the battle with the Lexos, or they were just glad to have an actual bed after several days at sea, but despite getting to sleep at a normal hour, the sun had already risen well into the sky once the party filed into the dining area.
Perun and Percival, being good hosts, had provided a full breakfast for the party. It wasn't anything particularly fancy—Mor Ardain was known for many things, but culinary excellence was not one of them—but it was a major step up over the rations they had been relying on during the trip.
"Ooh! Tora want check out market!" The nopon waved a wing in the air excitedly. "New weapon for Poppi coming along nicely, but still need parts!"
Sitting beside him, Poppi gave her creator a skeptical look. "Masterpon, shouldn't focus on replenish supplies before splurge on parts?" She asked.
"I'm sure we can manage both." Azurda assured her. "The only supplies we expended on the sea voyage were rations, after all. Those are hardly expensive to replace."
"They will probably be a little more expensive than you expect." Percival corrected, calmly sipping a cup of tea. "Mor Ardain no longer possesses the capacity for domestic agriculture, so all foodstuffs must be imported from other Titans, particularly Gormott."
Azurda let out an annoyed sigh. "I suppose that is to be expected." He acknowledged. "It was much the same in Goldmouth as well."
"Probably not as bad here, though." Rex pointed out. "At least Mor Ardain doesn't have nopon merchants jacking up the prices."
"Oh, they have made the attempt in the past." Percival stated. "Unscrupulous middlemen have a habit of attempting to wring as much profit from such trades as is feasible." A wicked grin crept across his face as he continued. "Fortunately, they always end up being… shown the error of their ways, shall we say?"
Rex replied with a weak smile. Considering the abilities of the man's wife, he had a reasonable idea of exactly what Percival meant.
"It was my intention to begin teaching you the ether shroud technique." Perun cut in. Her eyes drifted over to Nia briefly before shooting back to Rex. "Of course, if you have more pressing business to attend to first, then I would be more than willing to defer the lesson-"
"No, no!" Rex interrupted, waving his hands frantically. "If you're willing to start now, then the sooner the better!"
She smirked at him but nodded. "I figured that would be your answer." The woman said. Once again, her eyes drifted knowingly over to Nia.
The Gormotti girl obviously caught the message that she was trying to send. "Do… you mind if I, ah, sit in on the lesson?" She asked, stumbling slightly over the explanation. "I'm, ah, curious about the kind of ether manipulation that goes into it."
Perun adopted a beatific smile as she looked at the girl. "Why, of course!" She replied, her cheery tone doing little to hide her amusement at Nia's attempt to hide her nature from the singular member of their party who was unaware. "So long as you're not disruptive, I don't mind observers."
Her invitation was probably a mistake, though, as upon hearing it, Tora leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin contemplatively. "…Would friend mind if Tora watch too?" He asked, looking between the assembled group.
In the corner of his eye, Rex could see how Nia went rigid at his request. "…Um, about that, Tora…" He began, trying to figure out a way to defuse the situation gently. "N-not that I have an issue with it, but why are you interested?"
Tora crossed his wings, puffing out his chest. "That silly question! Of course Tora want see if sneaky-shroud offer any upgrade ideas for Poppi!" He declared. "Just think! If can hide Blades from tracky-track, why not hide from other things? Like hide charging of ether attack from Blade senses? That how most Blades know when block with barrier, after all! Imagine if make it so enemies not react as fast to big boomy Blade Arts!"
Rex paused, blinking in surprise, as he considered what Tora was suggesting. That… actually would be super useful. How many times had he almost knocked a Driver out of the battle with a Blade Art, only for their Blade to deflect it at the last moment? If there was a way to prevent the Blade from detecting the Art ahead of time, that would dramatically reduce their reaction time…
Shooting a side glance at Nia, he reminded himself that the decision wasn't entirely his. Were Tora aware of her nature, then he'd be willing to let the nopon stay without a second thought, but as it was…
Mercifully, before the nopon's request could bloom into a greater quandary in Rex's mind, Poppi stepped in. "Masterpon," she began, "is not good time to start search for clues?"
"Clues?" He asked, turning his head to look at his Blade. "What Poppi-?" Before he could finish the sentence, his eyes widened in realization.
"Tora…" Nia groaned, covering her face with a hand. "Don't tell me you forgot the entire reason we came here, right?"
He stared at the Gormotti girl, aghast at the implication. "T-Tora not do that!" He stammered. "Just… try not think about too hard until reach Alba Cavanich!" Tora closed his eyes, his shoulders falling as he let out a sigh. "After all, not think learn anything until then. If think about too hard before then, Tora go crazy."
The nopon fell into silence, staring downcast into his breakfast after that. "Tora…" Rex muttered, thinking back over his behavior over the last two weeks.
In retrospect, Rex should have seen this sooner. When Perun had first mentioned the artificial Blade sightings back on Tadbir, Tora had been downcast for a day or so, but had quickly jumped back into high spirits. With how cheery he had seemed, it had been easy for Rex to assume that the nopon was just taking it on the chin.
But… he hadn't been, had he? For as long as they had known him, Tora had been fairly dedicated to both his engineering and Driver training. Yes, he had some rather… off-color interests that he indulged in at times, but neither Rex nor Nia had ever doubted Tora's dedication.
However, during the last week at Tadbir as well as on the trip to Mor Ardain, the nopon had thrown himself into both like never before. Rex hadn't really noticed at the time, seeing as everyone else had increased their training regimens in the aftermath as well, but in retrospect, the degree to which Tora had done it should have set off some alarms.
After all, even he and Nia had taken breaks from training, yet he couldn't remember any point during the trip where Tora hadn't either been practicing with his shield or furiously working away at his new weapon for Poppi. He hadn't even paused during meals, constantly revising his blueprints between bites.
With it highlighted, that dedication now looked as if he had been trying to distract himself from thinking about his father.
The heavy silence that had begun to fill the room was suddenly broken by Percival taking a deep sip from his mug. The sound, obviously emphasized on purpose, was loud enough to draw everyone's attention.
"If it is clues about your quarry that you seek, then I would be more than happy to assist you." He stated calmly.
Tora gazed up at the man, his eyes shimmering. "R-really-truly?!" He asked almost hesitantly.
"Of course." The dark-haired man replied, placing his cup down. "While it is true that the majority of the heists involving the suspected artificial Blade have occurred in the vicinity of the capital, other settlements have not been untouched." He explained.
"As a matter of fact, there have been three occasions where businesses in Chilsain have been targeted, all of them in the last month." He gave his wife a playful grin. "I myself attempted to intercede on several of the attempts, but found myself somewhat lacking in manpower to handle the task on my lonesome."
Perun swatted him on the arm in response. "Enough of that." She replied dryly. "You know my mission was important."
Shaking his head fondly, he returned his gaze to Tora. "I was actually able to recover some potential evidence from the most recent heist, but up until now I have lacked the means to properly interpret it. Perhaps you would be able to afford some additional insight regarding it?"
The nopon shot up out of his chair, so fast that he nearly knocked his plate off the table. "Of course!" He declared, clenching a wing-fist. "If clue mechanical in nature, than nothing Tora not able to study!"
"Good." Percival nodded, slowly getting out of his chair as well. "I was hoping you would say that."
He shot a glance over at Perun. "I suppose that means that I will be taking my leave now." He said, leaning over the table.
She stood up just enough to give him a quick peck on the lips. "Have fun, dear." She replied.
Leaning back to a standing position, Percival gestured toward the door. "I would advise we head out." He stated. "It's a bit of a walk to where I concealed it."
As they filed out of the room, headed for the staircase, Perun's gaze lingered on her husband for a moment, a dreamy expression on her face. It was only briefly visible before she schooled herself, turning her attention to Rex and Nia. "Now then," she said, eyeing their empty plates, "if you wouldn't mind helping me clean up, then we can begin shortly."
"How much further friend say is?" Tora huffed, his tiny legs struggling to keep up with the vastly taller Percival.
It was always frustrating just how inconsiderate humans could be about that! Nopon were not large creatures, with even fully-grown specimens rarely being larger than a third the height of the average human male, and their proportions tended towards comparatively short limbs.
Compared to humans, nopon only took teensy-tiny steps. Even under normal circumstances, that meant that for every one step a human like Rex or Nia took, Tora needed to take three.
With someone like Percival, whose stride length was longer than Tora was tall? It was closer to seven.
That wasn't exactly conducive to long-distance endurance, even before the disguised vigilante's brisk pace was taken into account. As it was, Tora was practically having to run in order to keep up with him!
If they kept this up much longer, he'd need to open an affinity link with Poppi in order to keep up!
Mercifully, Percival had a positive answer for him. "It's just ahead." The vigilante assured him, leading the nopon through a dense maze of dilapidated buildings.
Apparently, these buildings had been damaged when part of the butte the city was built upon had collapsed a few years back and had been condemned as a result. The local administration had never gotten around to removing them, however, making the place an ideal hiding spot for items that were too incriminating for Percival and Perun to keep in their home.
It was hardly an unfamiliar setup for Tora. His own home had been built into a condemned building, using its unregulated nature to disguise his presence from the masked nopon that had murdered his grampypon. No doubt the biggest issue that Percival faced was ensuring that the drifters and vagrants that such places naturally attracted left their stuff alone.
Turning a final corner, Percival led him over to a particularly rickety-looking shack. Even compared to the buildings surrounding it, the structure had obviously not been treated kindly by the passage of time. The sheet metal walls were warped, enough that the roof was tilted almost diagonally. The door was still attached, but only by a single, barely-extant hinge, and would very obviously not close.
Yet without so much as a pause, Percival strode inside. He didn't bother to wait for Tora to follow as he kneeled down, flicking something that couldn't be seen from Tora's angle, and lifted part of the floor plate away.
"Here we are." The man said, reaching into the cavity exposed by the missing plate. "Fortunately, it was small enough to fit in here."
With a slight grunt of exertion, he pulled an object out of the cavity. He moved too fast for Tora to properly assess what it was, but he did catch that it was made of metal.
Of course, a moment later, Percival set it down on the ground, and it immediately became clear what it was.
"So, anything you recognize?" The vigilante inquired.
The object was a mess of pipes, junctions, gauges, and valves, all connected to each other in what appeared to be a haphazard manner. The pipes, which made up the bulk of the material, were all thin, narrow-gauge stock—the sort used to pipe gases rather than liquids.
He could even see labels on some of them that designated what gases they were supposed to carry. Some were fairly typical—oxygen, nitrogen, and hydrogen—but there were also several far more complex chemicals listed as well.
"This industrial gas interchange." He said, pointing at a large junction in the center. All of the pipes on one side were connected to it at odd angles, but on the other, twice the number deviated in tight, orderly rows. "Meant to split flow of gases into separate directions for use in machine." He looked up at Percival, curious. "Where did friend find?"
"In the hands of the suspect." He replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he assessed the device. "I interrupted them in the process of stealing equipment from one of the naval equipment factories on the other side of town a week ago."
Well, that would explain the condition that it was in. The ends of the pipes were sheared off, as if the entire assembly had been torn out of whatever position it had originally been installed in. From the sound of it, that might actually be the case.
"Unfortunately, they were able to evade retribution for their crimes." He glowered. "But I was able to prevent them from making off with this."
Glancing down at the nopon, a thoughtful look crossed his face. "I don't suppose you know what they could be doing with equipment like this?"
Tora considered it for a moment. "That… hard to say." He admitted. "Equipment used for various industrial processes, from make basic consumer goods to make big-bangy guns. Tora not able to make guess about what unless know what else stolen."
Percival didn't seem pleased by that, but he gave Tora a polite nod. "I see." He said, still mulling over the information.
Just because he couldn't figure out exactly what they were trying to make, that didn't mean he couldn't assert other possibilities, though. "What can say, however, is that whatever burglarpon want part for, is making many-many of."
"You're certain of that?" The vigilante inquired, his attention suddenly back on Tora.
"Very." He assured the man. "This part meant to split gas in multiple directions. Imply that need send precise amounts to many place. Like chemical tanks in parallel, or assembly line."
His eyes drifted back over the pipes again, focusing on one of the chemical tags in particular. "This here? Tora use gas before. Needed for anneal ether furnace of Poppi. When did for single use, was able to improvise method of application, and reuse for many gases. That not case for mass-production, though. All parts need be separate because used many-many times all at once."
"Interesting." Percival stated. "That would explain why they have been raiding industrial sites; they are trying to acquire parts for whatever assembly line they are creating."
"Or steal replacement." Tora suggested. "Part like this need replacing often, when gases corrode pipe and junction. Friend say thief hit sites on regular schedule? That what Tora think most likely reason."
Percival inclined his head. "I see. Thank you for your insight." He said, placing the assembly back in the concealed cavity. "That may help us narrow down their potential targets."
The nopon tapped a wing-digit against his chin thoughtfully. "May be able to help more, though." He pondered, glancing over at Poppi. The artificial Blade had been following dutifully behind them, making sure not to interrupt Tora when he was actually being serious. "If friend show Tora sites of burglary, maybe can figure out nature of what thief want build?"
Nia's brow quivered fitfully as she attempted to focus on the flow of her ether.
It was… much harder than she would have expected. Having been born as a Blade, it seemed logical to think that ether manipulation like this was a breeze. Doubly so given that, as a Flesh Eater, she had more control over her internal ether flows than a normal one would.
Despite it being a critical part of their anatomy—akin to the role that blood served in a human—a normal Blade, like she had once been, could not circulate their internal ether on their own. Instead, it was necessary to transmit any ether they drew in across the affinity link with their Driver and back in order to 'pump' it.
Under normal circumstances, that wasn't an issue; even the passive link that always existed between a Driver and their Blade had more than sufficient throughput to handle day-to-day ether needs. It was only when in combat, when ether was being used for reinforcement, attacks, and regeneration, that a full-power affinity link was necessary to handle the quantity of ether.
It was, of course, possible for a Blade to use ether without cycling it first, but there were rather harsh drawbacks to doing so. Bypassing the normal circulatory pathways to use drawn in ether directly almost invariably disrupted what circulation was ongoing, causing their internal ether flows to begin to stagnate. Which could get… nasty if not given the chance to recuperate.
As a Flesh Eater, on the other hand, Nia was able to circulate her own ether. She didn't fully understand the specifics of it—nobody did, so far as she could tell from the many records she and her father had dug through—but she had always chocked it up as being an inherent perk of having a flesh and blood body.
Whatever the reason, the ability to circulate her own ether gave her vastly more control over how it flowed. With a decade of (admittedly intermittent) experience manipulating it, there was no reason that this lesson should be so difficult!
And yet, here she was.
On paper, it sounded so basic! There wasn't any complex shaping or hefty power requirements; just 'grasp hold of the ether your body is passively emitting'. That was it—the entirety of their current task.
But as she attempted to manipulate those passive ether emissions, she couldn't get them to so much as respond to her. Whenever she attempted to control it, the ether slipped through her proverbial grasp like water in a sieve.
Growling, she withdrew for a moment, trying to figure out what she was doing wrong. There were a few things that immediately jumped out at her after a few attempts.
Firstly, she couldn't use her normal methods of ether manipulation. The skills she had picked up as a Driver were less than useless here, since she wasn't relying on ether being fed to her by Dromarch. Worse, she couldn't fall back on her experience as a Blade, either. One of the very first things that Perun had made clear was that, without any exception, they could not draw the ether back into their bodies with their Core Crystals.
Which led to the second issue: she could barely even feel the ether she was trying to manipulate! Her Driver form had always been less sensitive to ether than her Blade one, and at the moment, that difference between the two was proving to be the deciding factor of her lack of success.
Number three, of course, was that the incense that the vigilante had lit—'to help them focus', as the older woman had claimed—was extremely distracting. Her nose had been practically itching for the last half hour from it.
It was made all the worse by the fact that the windows had been closed in order to give them additional privacy. Meaning that, rather than diffusing with the wind, the smoke was lingering in the room with them.
A small flicker of ether disturbance, so faint that she could barely perceive it, emanated from where Rex was. The sensation caused her to scowl in annoyance. Predictably, where she was struggling, the Blade Eater had damn near gotten it right on the first try.
His remarkable success had practically blindsided Perun, who had clearly not been expecting much progress from either of them today. She had been so shocked that it had taken the disguised vigilante almost a full ten seconds to recognize that she needed to assign him something else to do.
So now, while she was struggling to even grasp the basics, he had already moved ahead to refining his control.
What was it with that boy and immediately picking up on difficult tricks? She could still remember how easily he had picked up the basics of using certain Blade abilities, be they Blade Arts—which he had figured out within the first five minutes of being a Blade Eater—or barriers, which only needed like fifteen minutes of tutelage from Dromarch and proper motivation before he was throwing them up left and right.
It would have been easy to blame it on his Core Crystal; just another magical Aegis power, yet it wasn't limited to Blade abilities. Vandham had been just as impressed by Rex's ability to pick up physical techniques as she had been his ether ones. According to the mercenary, it was just talent.
Well, bully for him. She could sure use a lick of that right about now.
Sighing, Nia dismissed that line of thought almost as soon as it came. Being jealous wasn't going to help her. Only hard work would.
Or, at least, she was hoping it would. After the better part of an hour proverbially beating her head against the wall, she was finding little more success than she had the first time around.
And apparently it showed. After a few more minutes of silently wishing death upon whoever had decided that bestowing certain Blades with ether tracking abilities was a good idea, Perun spoke up.
"I believe that will be sufficient for now." She said, her tone polite even as she stared at Nia with a slightly confused expression.
No doubt wondering why she was doing so poorly. It wasn't like Nia could even fault her for thinking that. After all, who would expect the former Blade to lose out to a former human when it came to ether manipulation?
Rex, ignorant of her thoughts, began to stand up. "Already?" He asked, looking at the woman. "But it was going so well…"
Perun merely smiled at him, her expression noticeably strained. "It is… best not to do this all at once." She cautioned. "We'll pick this up again tomorrow. For now, focus on manipulating your passive ether emissions. The better you are at it, the easier the next step will be."
In other words, she was just going to fall further behind, wasn't she?
Nia began slowly rising to her feet, a dark cloud of frustration hanging over her. As she began to move, however, the older woman snapped her attention back in Nia's direction.
"Oh, Nia," she began, "would you mind staying behind for a moment? I had a few questions for you."
The Gormotti girl let out a resigned sigh, slumping back into her seat. And here it comes.
"Huh?" Rex looked between the two, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Is this anything I can help with?"
Perun shook her head. "It isn't." She replied. "In fact, would it be a hardship if I were to ask you to go elsewhere for a little while?" The woman added, touching a hand to her concealed Core Crystal. "I'm afraid this is a rather personal issue."
Rex looked at the woman a little uncertainly, but didn't immediately decline. His eyes slowly shifted over toward Nia, as if asking for her opinion.
Needless to say, she nodded. The last thing she wanted was an audience to her being reamed out for her incapability.
"…Okay." He reluctantly agreed. "Do you want me to take Gramps and Dromarch too?"
"Definitely the old man." Nia responded. "But Dromarch should be fine. At this hour, the big lug's probably sprawled out on the bed, catching a nap."
The two women waited in an awkward silence as Rex quickly left the room, ducking into the guest room to grab Azurda so he could make the requested exit. While they were waiting, Nia stared at the floor, fully aware of Perun's attention resting on her.
It only took a minute or so for Rex to leave, but by that point, the silence between the two had become incredibly awkward. Even as the rattle of the door downstairs announced that the boy had vacated the premises, Perun didn't speak, her eyes fixed on the Gormotti girl.
After close to a full minute after he had left, the elder Flesh Eater finally deigned to speak. "Nia…" She began, almost hesitantly, as if she wasn't quite sure how to approach the topic. "Is everything alright?"
Nia blinked, surprised by how the other woman had decided to open the conversation. "Am I… what?" She asked, furrowing her brow. "I don't…?"
"You seemed to be struggling with the lesson." Perun explained. "I… that level of ether manipulation shouldn't be difficult for a Flesh Eater, especially one of your caliber." Her lips thinned as she considered her words. "I know that you're capable of doing this—you demonstrated more than sufficient control over the ether in your surroundings when you healed Ciaran."
She paused for a moment, her eyes drifting down to where Nia's Core Crystal was concealed. "You weren't… injured… in the lab, were you?" The woman asked.
"Of course not!" Nia scoffed, brushing the concern aside. "There aren't a lot of injuries that I couldn't heal if I needed to!" Not that she would prefer to be put in such a situation, of course, but should push come to shove, as long as her Core Crystal was intact, there wasn't much that could…!
Her line of thought came to an abrupt halt as she realized exactly what the other woman was implying. Slowly, her eyes drifted down to the metal band over her chest, subtly protecting her secret. "O-oh… um… You mean?" She gestured toward her Core Crystal. "N-no, it's fine. No damage there."
Perun nodded idly, a considerate look on her face. "In that case, is there something on your mind? Maybe some sort of distraction?"
"Well…" Nia began, "…Not exactly. The incense were definitely making it hard to focus-"
"Oh, I'm sorry!" The older woman interrupted. "I didn't realize those were an issue! I would have removed them had you said something!"
Nia gave her a weak smile. "Well, they were hardly the only issue." The girl admitted. "Really, it was more that I…" She paused, thinking of how she wanted to word it. "… I'm just not as sensitive to ether like this."
She had been hoping the wording, while a little indirect, was still clear enough to get the point across. Even alone with another Flesh Eater, she wasn't entirely comfortable speaking so… frankly about the topic. Yet, from the way that Perun's head tilted slightly, it was clear that the intention hadn't translated as she had hoped.
"'Like this?'" The other woman inquired. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid that I don't quite understand what you mean."
"Well, you know… as a Driver." Nia explained. "My human form. When I'm like this, I'm not as sensitive to ether as I am when I'm…" She trailed off, hoping that the older woman wouldn't make her spell it out.
But if anything, the explanation only seemed to deepen her confusion. "I'm afraid I still don't understand." Perun said. "Is it a Driver-specific issue, then? I don't see how having a human body would affect your ether sensitivity—you demonstrated more than ample control before."
The Gormotti girl let out a frustrated sigh. "Yeah, but I was in my Blade form then." She grumbled. Why couldn't the woman have taken the hint? "When I'm in my human form, my ether sensitivity is suppressed." Looking up at the other woman, she pressed a bit further. "Do you… have some way to get around that? It doesn't seem like you have the same problem."
Perun stared at her, a frown forming on her face as she considered the new information. "Nia…" She began slowly. "What do you mean by 'Blade form'?"
…What?
Nia stared at her, mouth open, as she processed the last exchange. How… how could she not know?! The ability to shift between her forms—both her original Blade body and the Gormotti one she had gained upon becoming a Flesh Eater—was one of her most basic abilities!
Hell, the woman had definately demonstrated the ability to assume her Blade form before, too! The glowing hair and ether lines weren't exactly human traits, after all!
"I… what?" She managed to get out. "You… but…" Did the other woman just use different terminology than she did? That was always possible—it wasn't like the books she had used in the past actually described much of that sort of stuff; rather, they had focused more on the process of becoming a Flesh Eater, as well as the obvious perks.
Maybe she should explain a little more thoroughly. "Y-yeah. It's, you know… when you switch to your original form? The Blade one?"
Perun's frown didn't lessen. "That… still doesn't make sense to me." The woman admitted.
"But I've seen you do it before!" Nia exclaimed. "Whenever you're acting as Tokiha, you're in your Blade form!"
"That…" The woman said slowly, comprehension seeming to slowly settle in as the proverbial gears in her head spun. "When I disguise myself as Tokiha, it isn't some form of transformation." She explained. "All I'm doing is summoning my original outfit."
Even as she spoke, the woman paused, an amused look on her face. "Well, I suppose there are some that would disagree." She corrected with a slight laugh. "It does make quite the flash."
"What about your hair, though? It glows when you're acting as Tokiha!" Nia rebutted. "That sure as hell isn't part of your outfit!"
The other woman stared at her. "Of course it isn't." She replied. "I don't see what that has to do with anything. Yes, I apply aspects of my original appearance when I disguise myself, but…" Perun trailed off, her eyes widening as she seemed to realize something.
"I… think I might be starting to get what you are trying to say." She said, a considerate look on her face.
Finally. Nia hadn't expected this to be such a difficult topic to convey! She attempted to speak up, but before she had so much as opened her mouth, Perun beat her to the punch.
"Nia, I believe you may hold some… misconceptions about how the Flesh Eater process functions." Perun began, carefully broaching the topic.
"What." The Gormotti girl replied flatly. That… was not the response she had been expecting.
There were… several things she wanted to say in response: an indignant retort about how she could possibly be ignorant of how her own body worked after a decade of having it, or perhaps a challenging one accusing the woman of being the one with misconceptions.
But all of those died in her throat as Perun opted to demonstrate exactly what she meant. Without so much as a skipped beat, she flipped her hair over one shoulder.
Just in time for Nia to clearly see the ends begin to glow.
There were none of the usual signs that accompanied Nia's transformation. No light, no concentration, no pulse of ether. In fact, the woman was giving Nia a remarkably neutral expression as she demonstrated.
"You know, I had been wondering why you summoned your Blade outfit back in the sewers." She stated, gently brushing the ends of her hair through her fingers. "I had thought that you were just using it as a mnemonic."
She looked a little lost in thought. "But… I'm starting to guess that you never did much in the way of experimentation with what your body could do, did you?"
"I-I…" Nia was struggling to reconcile what she was seeing with what her experience told her about how Flesh Eaters functioned, but she found herself drawing a blank. Everything she thought she knew said that this shouldn't be possible.
Her human and Blade traits were supposed to be separate! Meshing them like this—and the woman was definitely meshing them. Even discounting how her clothes hadn't shifted to her Blade outfit, Perun's ether lines were still concealed—that wasn't supposed to be a thing!
Just to emphasize her point further, the vigilante held out her hand. There was a flash of ether as a hexagonal weapon core materialized between her fingers, only to suddenly erupt into a familiar Megalance.
Yet her appearance still had not changed. Were it not for her glowing hair, the woman could easily be mistaken for a bog-standard human.
"Our bodies… our human bodies… They aren't just some addition we picked up. These are—quite literally—us now." She stated, giving Nia a soft look. "For a Flesh Eater like myself, it can be hard to tell at times, but for one such as you…" She left the sentence hanging for a moment. "...Well, I would have thought that would have been more obvious."
Nia resisted the urge to scoff as she reigned in her reaction. "W-well, of course!" She replied. "I get the part about our bodies being fully physical. It's kind of hard to forget how much of a pain it made the first few weeks." Even though she had known ahead of time that it would happen, the amount of food she had needed in the wake of her transformation—needing materials in order to create her new body—had been annoying to deal with.
"But… that doesn't change the fact that we can still return to our original appearances." She argued, toying with a lock of hair bound up in her curtain-tails. Even as she spoke, though, the words rang somewhat hollow. As much as she wanted to argue otherwise, her Blade form didn't retain all of her original features. Even fully released, she still bore her former Driver's silver hair and yellow eyes, rather than the coloration she had awoken from her Core Crystal with.
"Appearances, yes." Perun agreed. "But the change is only aesthetic." With a flash, her weapon burst into a cloud of ether. "Ultimately, your Core Crystal is the source of your abilities. Weapon summoning, ether manipulation, affinity links… So long as you possess your core, there is nothing you can do with your original appearance that you cannot do as you appear right now."
The Gormotti girl stared at her hands, her brow furrowed as she considered the older woman's words. Was… was Perun really right? Could she actually use her original abilities like this?
Part of her wanted to reject the notion. After all, she had been a Flesh Eater for almost a decade! If she could use her original abilities in her human form, wouldn't she have already figured it out by now, even if only by accident?
Yet, at the same time, she couldn't. Despite her firm belief that her forms were separate, there were a few instances where she had… pushed the boundaries of what she believed her human form to be capable of.
In particular, her holdout trick of using her own ether to speed up the charging of Arts when using Dromarch's weapons. It wasn't something she did frequently—the last time had been during her fight with Malos, when her Blade was too far away for more than the most basic of active affinity links—so she didn't think about it very often, but wasn't that something that a normal Driver shouldn't be capable of doing?
Her face must have revealed at least a certain amount of her internal conflict, because Perun continued to speak.
"To answer your earlier question, I do not have any issues with my ability to perceive ether when I am out of my Blade outfit." She said. "And based on what you have said, I believe this… misunderstanding may be the source of yours."
Slowly, the older woman got to her feet. "I believe it would be worthwhile for you to… if not experiment, then at least take some time to think." She stated, giving the Gormotti girl a soft smile.
Nia looked away, clenching a fist against her chest. "I… do you really think this works the same way for me?" She asked, still considering the possibilities. "I mean, I don't know the method that you used to, well…" The girl trailed off, pondering the exact phrasing. "...But, if we were… created in a different way, wouldn't that mean we don't function exactly the same either?"
Perun slowly shook her head. "From my experience, that isn't the case." The woman rebutted. "I have met several Flesh Eaters before, and all of them were capable of this, despite most having used a different method than myself or Percival." She closed her eyes. "So far as I can tell, the only difference between the various methods to create one of us is the quality of the outcome, not the abilities or how they function."
"I-I see…" The girl replied, sliding back into her thoughts. She… supposed that made sense. Based on what she had learned from the books she and her father had used to research the process, Judicium had experimented with a number of techniques to create Flesh Eaters, but they had never made mention of substantial differences between them. If all of the processes were triggering the same reaction, then she supposed that there wouldn't be any reason to expect…
Her thoughts came crashing to a halt as she processed the rest of what Perun had said. Her head shot up suddenly, eyes wide, as she stared at the older woman. "W-wait a moment!" She said. "Percival is…?!"
The older woman blinked in surprise. "Did I not tell you?" Perun asked, tilting her head to the side. "I could have sworn that-"
"No, you didn't!" Nia growled. "I wasn't even sure he was Vasara until he started casually mentioning it!"
Perun let out a soft, amused laugh at the girl's reaction. "How silly of me!" She said. "I suppose that I just assumed it was obvious."
Yeah, so obvious that Nia had spent the last day agonizing over what she could talk about in front of the man. She didn't say that, of course, instead merely crossing her arms and looking away with a grumbled sound of complaint.
"I will be sure to be more clear about such things in the future." Perun consoled, a smile still on her face, as she started extinguishing the incense on the table.
Nia didn't say anything else, instead glancing out the window, deep in thought. Idly, she brushed her fingers over her concealed Core Crystal as she considered what the older Flesh Eater had told her.
Had she… really been thinking about her forms wrong all of this time? Could she really have been using her own powers without assuming her original appearance?
Closing her eyes, she let out a long, frustrated sigh. She… would need to take Perun's advice to heart. Test around with things. See if she could see if what the woman was saying was true for herself.
But in order to do that, she was going to need to sort through her thoughts.
The Gormotti girl's eyes drifted toward the room she and her Blade were sharing. Maybe she should start by talking this over with Dromarch. The tiger Blade always seemed to know the best way to get her to settle her thoughts.
Author's Notes
One of the interesting things about Nia's physical appearance in Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is how it seems to be a blend of her Driver and Blade forms from 2. She has the longer, vulpine ears of her Blade form and can use her full powers, yet lacks the longer hair, ether lines, and outfit.
Presumably, this is something that she picked up after the end of the game, when she was finally comfortable enough to start experimenting with what she could do with her body. Here, however, she is being taught that lesson much earlier. There is still more to it as well, but that will be for later.
There won't be a chapter next week due to IRL issues. Hopefully that shouldn't prevent a chapter coming the week after, though. We'll just call it an anniversary week off.
