The next six weeks passed in a blur of training. Summer came on and the Twelveswood grew warm and muggy, with plenty of biting gnats to torment the recruits. Arden worked alongside a team of other adventurers, first against training dummies, then trainers, with swords and staves. He enrolled as a conjurer, but was still expected to use a weapon in self-defense. He trained with weapons and with magic, conjuring earth to trap or impale. Other times he was called upon to empower or heal his teammates during a training fight. The rest of the time he was training with Swift, learning how to signal a chocobo to attack a target.
At first the bird hesitated to attack things on command, which the trainer said was common. But after Arden took his bird aside and explained things, Swift was happy to peck and kick a target dummy. From there they moved to dealing with threats around the Twelveswood, from poisonous shriekshooms to overgrown trents to reanimated skeletons emerging from a cursed mine. Arden's team was sent into the mine to dispatch the skeletons and the sorcerer raising them, emerging victorious but battered and weary. They were sent to the old gladiator arenas of Halatali to clean out lurking monsters. They dealt with cultist rituals and fought the Ixel beast tribe.
With every fight, and every monster slain, and every journey he made with the other recruits, the more Arden's walls hardened into place. He laughed and joked easily with his team, but if anyone asked him a personal question, he fell silent and shifted to an aggressive stance that silenced further interrogation.
When he finished training and returned to Minfilia's house, Yda and Papalymo sensed it at once.
"What happened to you, Arthur?" Yda asked him as they sat at the table after supper. "You used to be such a nice person and now you just smolder like a thundercloud."
"I don't know, Ida," said Arden with exaggerated politeness. "Six weeks with the Yellow Serpents has taught me some hard lessons."
"It's Yda!" she exclaimed. "I know you know my proper name."
"And you know mine," said Arden sweetly.
Yda and Arden stared at each other. Papalymo abruptly left the table for a drink of water, but Arden could see his shoulders shaking with laughter.
"Fine," Yda said at last, slumping in her chair and folding her arms. "You win, Arden."
"Thank you," he said, stretching out his long legs under the table. "I've finished my training and now I'm officially a private third class of the Twin Adder Grand Company. What's happened with the Scions lately?"
Papalymo returned to the table with his drink. "We had to investigate a disturbance in the East Shroud. The Sylph beast tribe was missing their elder, who was lured away by a man in black. We sent Arenvald to rescue him, and he was mostly unharmed. We feared that the Sylphs might summon their primal, Ramuh, but so far things seem quiet. They do have a number of tempered, however. It's a situation to watch."
"The Ascian again," Arden muttered. "Any word about the situation in Ul'dah?"
"Business as usual," said Papalymo. "However, Minfilia did ask that you travel by aetheryte to see her at the Waking Sands. There's a situation in Limsa Lominsa she's concerned about."
"I haven't been there yet," Arden muttered, scratching behind a horn. He would rather walk barefoot through the desert than take an aetheryte.
"But first!" Yda broke in, "Gridania is having their memorial celebration of the Battle of Carteneau tomorrow, and we've all been invited to attend."
"I could stand to attend a celebration," Arden said with a smile. "I hope there's food."
"They always roast a whole boar!" Yda exclaimed. "You can smell it all over Gridania! It'll do you good to unwind a bit, Arden."
He smiled and rose to his feet. "I'd better take a bath before bed, then. I need a good, long soak to celebrate getting out of training."
Sitting in the tub up to his chin, a little later, Arden made a mental list of everything he needed to catch up on. He hadn't had a chance to get anywhere with carpentry. He'd had a lot of combat conjury training, but he had neglected his healer studies. He was eager to get back to those. The thought of returning home with all he'd learned was a shining goal in his mind.
After his bath, he went to sleep in the too-small bed, thankful to be here, in the quiet house, and not sleeping in the cramped, noisy barracks with the other adventurers.
The amphitheater in the middle of Gridania was decorated with leafy garlands and summer flowers when Arden arrived the next morning with Yda and Papalymo. There were booths with games set up along the road, which was blocked off from regular traffic. Vendor stalls sold snacks and drinks, and children ran everywhere under the watchful eyes of their parents. The aforementioned roast boar was being turned on a spit over a bonfire, where a team of cooks seasoned and basted it regularly.
Arden threw himself into the fun. He played the games, which were the shooting and throwing sort, and won himself several prizes. He hung around the game booths, and whenever a child failed to win anything and seemed ready to cry, he knelt and gave them one of his. Some children took one look at his horns and scales, snatched the prize and ran away, but others stood and talked to him, serious as adults.
"You must be good at these games," said a small Hyur girl with her hair in braids. Arden had expected her to run from him, but she had accepted a wooden doll in a pink dress he had won earlier.
"Oh, I lost as many games as I won," he replied.
"Did you?" the girl said, sizing him up. "I thought adults never lost anything."
"They make the games harder than you'd expect," Arden said. "I never won the prizes I wanted. They have a nice-looking pair of boots up there, and what do I win? A doll. I'm sure you'll give her a better home than I would."
The girl hugged the doll. "Oh, I'll watch over her all right. Well, bye!" She ran off to show her mother the doll, who had been warily watching this exchange from a distance. Arden rose to his feet, grinning.
As he turned to enter the amphitheater, where people were beginning to gather, he saw two people he recognized. A twin Elezen boy and girl, dressed alike in blue jackets and white pants, loitered by the gate, watching him openly. Arden had ridden the carriage into Gridania with them, but they had been asleep and he had never spoken to them. They both had hair so fair it was almost white, and they each wore it tied back in a neat braid. The only way he could tell them apart was because one wore a blue ribbon and one wore a red.
As Arden met their gaze, the boy beckoned to him. Arden approached with his swagger and grin firmly in place. Inside, he uneasily wondered who they were. Their style of dress didn't match that of Gridania around them. Perhaps they were from Ishgard?
"Hello," said the boy, who was probably at least sixteen, since his voice had already changed. "I don't believe we've met, even though I've heard of you. I am Alphinaud Leveilleur and this is my sister Alisaie. We are associates of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn."
"As am I," said Arden. "Arden Ardakim at your service."
"And us at yours," Alisaie finished. "I didn't expect to see an Auri warrior giving gifts to children."
Arden hid his embarrassment with an arrogant toss of the head. "What was I going to do with all that junk?"
"Indeed," said Alphinaud, who had not stopped staring at Arden. "Come sit with us."
The boy's imperious manner amused and annoyed Arden in equal measure, but he was curious about them, so he took a bench with them near the back. "I've been to the Waking Sands several times, but I didn't see you there."
"We spent the spring in Limsa Lominsa," said Alisaie. "Alphinaud just had to investigate the kobolds there and then rattle cages among the Admiralty."
"The kobolds prepare to summon Titan once again," said Alphinaud, with the air of someone continuing an argument. "And yet the Admiral sits on her hands and does nothing!"
"The Admiral is busy keeping the Garlean navy at bay," said Alisaie dryly. She turned to Arden. "The fourteenth legion has been stationed here in Eorzea with orders to capture our lands and enslave us to the Empire. Gaius van Baelsar looks to win himself a pretty prize after gobbling up Ala Mhigo. And nobody seems to care!"
"Oh, they care," Alphinaud said bitterly. "It's just that they're so busy squabbling over trade routes and refugee problems that they forget that Garlemald is the greater threat." He looked up at Arden. "The beast tribes see the Garleans invading their lands and summon their primals in fear for their lives. And who can blame them?"
"Then tell me, young master," said Arden. "Why did the Amalj'aa summon Ifrit? I saw no Garlean warmachina in Thanalan."
Alphinaud shook his fair head. "The Amalj'aa are a warlike culture and they took the offensive. Refugees crowd their territory and the greedy Syndicate dig mines on Amalj'aa lands. They seek to end the threat with a preemptive strike. Fortunately we have warriors like you who strike down the primals–warriors of light."
This conversation stirred a thrumming anxiety in Arden's chest. To conceal it, he scowled. "I don't plan to make a habit of being sacrificed to primals, boy."
"Not that I blame you," said Alphinaud, "but seeking them out to destroy them is not the same as being forced into their presence."
An announcer strode into the amphitheater's stage and welcomed everyone to come in and sit down. The twins fell quiet for a moment, and Arden watched the crowd filling the seats. Alphinaud's words ate at him. Was the boy going to ask him to fight another primal? Surely not. Arden had no desire to fight another false god. He hadn't wanted to fight Ifrit, either. He pondered ways of gracefully refusing and then disappearing into the crowd.
As the crowd settled into their seats, the Elder Seedseer entered the stage. She was another of the padjal-hyurs, but unlike the child E-Sumi-Yan, Kan-E-Senna was a mature woman in an elaborate white robe. Arden wondered how old she truly was, and if padjals truly aged no more quicker than the trees. Her horns were longer than those of the other padjals, and her golden hair was woven artfully around them.
"She carries the legendary staff Claustrum," Alisaie whispered to Arden. "It means key, for it can dispel wards laid by the elementals."
"Good to know," Arden grunted.
"My friends and neighbors," Kan-E-Senna said, her clear voice resonating throughout the amphitheater. "Thank you for coming to this year's memorial celebration. This marks the fifth year since the Calamity, which scholars now believe to be the Seventh Umbral Calamity. Upon this day, as the united armies of the three Grand Companies engaged the forces of Garlemald upon the killing fields of Carteneau, the moon Dalmud descended upon us. It broke apart and the great dragon Bahamut emerged to lay our world waste. In our desperation we called upon the Twelve. In the resulting struggle, our world was changed, the landscape blasted with corrupted aether. You still see the formations across the world even now. But Bahamut was defeated and sealed away. The Twelve withdrew into their blessed realm. Carteneau became a blasted valley of ruins and death, and the ruins of Dalmud lie scattered across Eorzea. Since then, we have struggled to rebuild ourselves and our countries. But today, I come to you with good tidings. Gridania's economy is improving, as well as that of our fellow sister-states. As we rebuild our homes and pick up the scattered threads of our lives, we bring healing to Eorzea itself. We have come through a dark shadow, my friends, but with the power of the Light, we emerge into a new dawn. We have passed from an Umbral era into the verge of an Astral era of peace and abundance. But it will take much hard work to get there. Will all of you walk this path with me?"
The crowd cheered. Beneath the tumult, Alphinaud crossed his arms and frowned. "There will be no future prosperity if Gridania ignores the threat on their very doorsteps. Baelsar's Wall stands not fifty malms from this spot, and what have they done about it? Nothing! We must resume the alliance between the Grand Companies."
"Good luck with that," Alisaie whispered.
As Kan-E-Senna spoke, Arden had flashes of visions, each accompanied by a stabbing headache. He glimpsed the armies arrayed upon a broad plain as their commanders watched from the hills above. He saw the moon descending and the writhing form of the dragon. He saw bold warriors and wizards facing the aetheric blast until their very forms were wiped away. He fought to the surface of these visions, but each time another one dragged him down, triggered by Kan-E-Senna's voice. Oddly enough, the presence of the twins made it worse. Every time one of them spoke, he glimpsed the face of an old man, staff upraised, grimacing in the blast as it scoured him from existence.
Arden lasted until Kan-E-Senna left the stage. Then he rose and hurried from the amphitheater, holding his aching head, staggering, trying not to fall down. He blindly groped his way to a bench under an arbor and huddled on it, gripping his head in an attempt to keep the visions from cracking his skull.
"Are you well, Arden?" came Alphinaud's voice at his elbow.
"Hangover," Arden grunted.
Alphinaud said something disapproving about imbibing too freely, but the ringing in Arden's ears drowned him out. He lay down on the bench and closed his eyes.
When Arden awoke, it was full dark, and lanterns were lit outside the arbor. Voices and music told him that the festival was still in full swing. Nobody had bothered him all day in his stupor on the bench. Perhaps Alphinaud had told people that he was sleeping off his drink.
Humiliated, Arden sat up and tried his feet. His throat was dry with thirst, and his head swam so badly that he dared not stand for several minutes. The visions had thankfully stopped, but they left the inside of his head sore, as if he'd been beaten from the inside with a hammer. The Echo was too big for his body and soul, somehow. It came upon him with overwhelming force and left him exhausted.
He sat still for some time, until his burning thirst drove him to his unsteady feet. Then he made his way home by the light of the city's festive lanterns, his head still pounding. He reached Minfila's house and let himself in, relieved to find it empty. He poured himself glass after glass of water, then rummaged in the kitchen for something to eat.
As he built himself a couple of vast sandwiches, he heard the front door open, and Minfilia's voice called, "Arden?"
"In here," he replied.
Minfilia hurried in, dressed in a blue festival dress, her blond hair pulled back in even more elaborate braids than usual. She walked straight up to him and gazed into his face. "Alphinaud said you had drank too much and collapsed, but I've never seen you drink. Are you all right?"
"I …" Arden struggled to keep his walls up, but his head ached so badly still, and Minfilia had always been kind to him. He trusted her not to hurt him any further. He exhaled and hung his head. "The Echo was brutal at the festival. I kept seeing flashes of the battle. Carteneau, I guess."
Her brows furrowed in instant sympathy. "And you told Alphinaud you'd been drinking. Oh, Arden." She hurried to a cupboard, took down several jars, and began measuring their contents into a bowl.
"Well, I didn't know him," Arden said, continuing to cut meat and cheese and piling it between slices of bread. "His superior attitude grated on me, and I had no desire to share that particular weakness."
"I don't blame you," said Minfilia, pouring hot water from the kettle into the bowl and stirring the contents. "Alphinaud and Alisaie are wonderful people, but they are young and proud."
Arden carried his plate to the table and started on his sandwiches, which dripped with mustard and pickled cabbage. The taste was heaven and he was able to push the headache away for a while.
"Did you have any visions of Hydaelyn?" Minfilia asked.
"No," said Arden, once his mouth was clear enough to talk. "Only flashes of battle. And an old man–an Elezen–dissolving in light."
Minfilia froze and pressed the back of one hand to her mouth. She stood that way for a moment, eyes closed. Arden kept eating and wished he had said nothing. Of course the old man would be someone she knew.
"Louisoix," Minfilia said in a choked voice. "Oh, why did you leave us in such a way?" She turned to Arden, mopping her eyes on her sleeve. "That man was the founder of the Circle of Knowing, which we've now renamed the Scions of the Seventh Dawn … since we are the survivors of the Seventh Umbral Calamity. His staff was all we found of him."
The staff framed on the wall in the office of the Waking Sands. Arden nodded in sudden understanding. He gazed at his sandwich without touching it, grappling with the grief that rose in him, flooding from that wound inside of him that hadn't seemed to heal. "I'm sorry, my lady," he murmured. "I should have kept that vision to myself."
"You didn't know," Minfilia said, composing herself and clearing her throat. She poured the contents of the bowl into a mug and set it before him. "After you finish your supper, drink this. It will ease the headache. I keep the ingredients here for my own Echo aftermath."
Arden gave her an apologetic smile and went on eating. Minfilia made herself another sandwich, although much smaller than his, and sat across from him. They ate their supper without speaking, each of them lost in thought. Arden considered the vision and wondered why the Echo had been so intent on showing him those particular memories, probably Ken-E-Senna's. Perhaps because he was now part of the great tide of history, having cast in his lot with the Scions and their goal of saving Eorzea.
"They're his grandchildren," said Minfilia suddenly, breaking the silence. "Alphinaud and Alisaie. It's a burden to follow in his footsteps, especially for Alphinaud."
"Every time they spoke, I saw a vision of Louisoix," said Arden. "That must be why." He finished his first sandwich and started on the second. Halfway through, he paused. "Alphinaud spoke of troubles with the kobolds near Limsa Lominsa. Will I be expected to fight another primal? Just because I can't be tempered?"
Minfilia took her time about answering, but from the way her expressive eyes met his and then flinched away guiltily, he knew he was right.
"Arenvald has the Echo," said Minfilia, "but his only combat experience is in the arena. Whereas you…"
"Killed Ifrit with conjury," Arden finished.
"Yes." Minfilia sighed. "I know it was a desperate fight for survival. But you've gone on and completed your training under the Twin Adder. Arenvald is only now starting to consider applying to the Immortal Flames. He's eager to prove himself, but…" She trailed off, letting her thought hang in the air, unfinished.
Arden chewed with resignation. "So you resolve to send the healer."
"You're not just a healer," Minfilia said hastily. "You're quite good with a blade, yourself. But conjuring stone will do no good against Titan, whose element is stone. If only we knew more about how he was defeated last time."
"Last time?" Arden asked.
"Yes, last time he was summoned, he was defeated by warriors from the Company of Heroes," said Minfilia. "But they disbanded after so many of them died in the Calamity. I'll have to find out if any of them still live, and if they'd be willing to talk to you."
"Did they have the Echo?" Arden asked. "They're not tempered, surely."
"I believe most of them did," said Minfilia. "However, I doubt any of them would want to join us. But I'll ask around." She smiled, as if remembering something. She reached into a dress pocket and extracted an envelope, which she slid across the table to him. "A gift from your healer friends in Ul'dah as a congratulations on finishing your training."
Arden picked up the envelope, thinking of all the women pooling their pay to buy him a gift. His heart swelling with gratefulness, he opened the envelope and pulled out its contents.
A shiny golden ticket slid into his hand, along with a flyer and a set of coins he had never seen before.
"Oh," said Minfilia, turning her head to peer at the items. "They sent you a guest package to the Gold Saucer. That's a ticket, a flyer about the Saucer, and enough gold points to play a few games."
"What is a Gold Saucer?" Arden asked, unfolding the flyer. It showed a huge building in the desert like a dancing cactus, bejeweled in lights and ringed with airship landings.
"It's the Manderville Gold Saucer," said Minfilia. "A whole town of amusements and games. They hold the major chocobo races there, as well as the top Triple Triad tournaments. There are many, many other games there. They use a currency called Manderville Gold Points. You purchase prizes with it, so it technically costs you no gil, except to purchase your initial gold points."
Arden gazed at the flyer in silence, unsure what he thought of this. His main thought was of the games he had played that day at the festival, and curiosity on what that might be like on a much grander scale. He also felt the weariness of the last six weeks in his bones, as well as the stain of Ifrit before that. Maybe a day or two at a pleasure city might not be so bad.
"Have you been there?" he asked.
Minfila smiled. "Oh … once or twice."
"Do you recommend it?"
She met his eyes. "It's a good place to forget your troubles, and I think it would do you good."
Arden pushed his empty plate aside and sipped the herbal tea she had brewed for him. It was vaguely bitter and tasted like dry hay.
"I think I might fly out tomorrow," he said. "Take a few days before I'm asked to do any more hard things. I'm on leave from the Adders for a week."
"Go ahead and go," said Minfilia. "I'll ask the Scions and see who might go with you. Thancred knows the ins and outs of the Saucer better than anyone, but he's on an assignment right now. Maybe Arenvald would like to go."
"I'll take any company you'd like to send," said Arden, closing his eyes as his headache began to fade. "I think I'm headed to bed after this."
"All right," said Minfilia, rising to her feet. "I'll see you in the morning, then. Good night."
Arden gazed at the flyer for a while after she left, trying to decide if he was curious, confused, baffled, or simply too tired to feel very much. Probably the latter. He'd have to send his Ul'dah healer friends a thank you note in the morning.
A vacation sounded better and better all the time.