#ast things

Minfilia frowned slightly, tilting her head. “I thought the ‘twelve’ was an important number for Eorzeans, isn’t it? So shouldn’t they have twelve cards in their combat decks?” 

“I asked that too,” Hel admitted, looping one of the stitches around the leather she was fixing. “Nive said that her deck is printed upright, reversed, and on it’s side, corresponding to Solar, Lunar, and Celestial seals. Combat wise, they all do the same thing, with the Ewer making magic come easier, or the Bole bolstering defense, but with minute differences. To perform a basic divination, an Astrologian needs one of each seal.” 

“Multiples of three, then?” Minfilia asked, squinting at the cards that lay on the table. “Because three goes into twelve four times, and then out of a deck of eighteen cards…” 

“Admittedly it’s a lot more math than I’m comfortable with,” Hel shrugged. “Astromancy toes the line between art and science, with a lot of math involved. Urianger’s good, but Nive is better.” 

Minfilia looked up at that, her crystal-sapphire eyes widening, and Hel had to fight to keep the instinctual shudder out of her shoulders. From a distance, they were almost like dunesfolk eyes, but this close it was clear that they were otherworldly and unnatural. 

“But Nive uses arc--arcanima? Was that it? I thought she only did damage with the pets that follow her around, like those carbuncles.” She asked, more confused than before. 

“Nive has a bloodline heritage,” a new voice said, coming closer to them. Hel and Minfilia looked up to see Shining set her pack and bow down, and then give a groan as she sat on the couch next to them. 

“A… bloodline heritage?” Minfilia asked, frowning in confusion. “Do you mean that she’s descended from a line of Astrologians?” 

Shining smiled at her, giving a nod. “Aye. Nive’s mother, and her mother’s mother, they were all Astrologians, and had a history. Nive’s deck was actually her mother’s, which is why it’s a little more worn than Urianger’s.” 

“If you have a family that tends to specialize in a certain branch of magic over the course of generations, then eventually even the ‘weakest’ members of that family can have a lot of innate power,” Helisent explained. “Granted, that tends to mean that they can become overspecialized, and have a hard time learning any other branches, but the talent is there. Nive could predict the future when we were eight, and just seem to know things by looking at the stars.”

“But she … doesn’t use it. I didn’t even realize she could use cards like Urianger until he asked her for help with a divination.” Minfilia said, swinging her head left and right to look at both women. 

“Mmhm,” Shining nodded. “She was never formally trained, and had to figure out a lot of stuff on her own, or by asking Sharlayan Astrologians. She knew the basics, and had an innate talent, but she had already settled on Arcanima as her primary tool by the time she really learned.” 

“That isn’t to say she’s not capable, though,” Hel murmured, looking over at the two Astrologians pouring over the card that was just placed. Nive’s tail twitched, then twitched the other direction. “She’s just as good a healer as I am, and she’s very quick with her cards, she thinks fast. But ultimately, her talents lie in defeating the enemies we encounter, while mine are better suited to heal.” 

Shining gave a shrug, and reached for the table, grabbing one of the muffins the pixies had produced for them all. Hel wouldn’t touch it, but Shining had apparently made friends with many of the fae in the years that she had been on the First. She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully, watching the divination as well, and then looked back at Minfilia. “If you want another example, my songs are a gift of my bloodline heritage. And if you squint, your powers as the Oracle could be considered something similar.” 

Minfilia tilted her head, kicking her feet slightly. “Really? I thought I had heard multiple voices singing with you before…” 

Shining nodded, finishing off her muffin. It was made hyur sized, and didn’t last more than a couple bites. “Mmhm. My ancestors all sing through me, and when I pass on into the Lifestream, my own voice will join to the chorus. But ultimately I’m more like Nive -- I don’t really use my talents, or I push them to work for something else. Out of the three of us, I’m the most magically powerful, but I don’t cast straight spells often.” 

“And by a large margin, too,” Hel said, poking another hole through the leather, and sewing some more pieces together. “Circumstances of her conception, and all that.” 

“We’re not talking about my parents having crazy wild drunk sex,” Shining deadpanned. 

Minfilia squawked, a blush rising to her cheeks, and she covered her mouth. The motion was so like Minfilia that Helisent had to look away, knowing that she couldn’t afford to see her friend in the child’s face. It wasn’t fair. To … anyone, really. 

“Yes, please, let’s not talk about that,” Hel rolled her eyes, and held up the harness she was almost done with. “Minfilia, could you stand? I want to make sure I got your measurements right.” 

Minfilia blinked in surprise, and gently set down the cartridge, going to stand. “You … made something for me?” 

“Mmhm. Lift up your arms?” Hel let the harness hover over Minfilia’s shoulders, and nodded. “Alright, almost done. Thancred said you had lost most of your gear after the Eulmorans captured you, and the Mean only had time to make you the daggers and some basics.” 

Minfilia’s face fell, and she opened her mouth to apologize, when Shining gently put a finger to her lips. 

“Helisent didn’t do this out of any sort of admonishment. She saw that you needed gear, and made it for you. You don’t need to apologize for getting captured. We’ve all been in bad situations before.” Shining smiled gently, and squeezed her shoulder. 

“A-alright,” Minfilia said, clearly unsure of what to say. She twisted her fingers together, and then nodded, deciding to simply sit down again. “Thank you.” 

“Eh, I wouldn’t say it’s as good as the stuff in the Mean,” Helisent shrugged, and ruffled Minfilia’s hair. “But Shining was able to barter for some glider skins, and I thought you could use some more protection than just the dress and shorts.” 

“My thanks, Helisent,” Urianger called across the room, looking up briefly from the divination. “Words ill convey the feverish worry that overcame me upon seeing Minfilia without her proper vestments.” 

“I’m not that great, but I can at least make some decent protective gear,” Hel shrugged, and stuck her tongue out between her teeth as she finangled with a more tricky stitch. “Really, though, it’s kind of--” 

Nive’s sudden gasp cut her off, and instantly Shining, Helisent, and Minfilia were all crowded around the table, looking at the haphazard mess of cards. Urianger’s attention was stolen back to the cards as well, and his lips pulled down into a frown. 

“Forgive me, but I do not see…” He started, tracing his finger along the lines. A reverse Bole, a reverse Spire, and Nive had just laid down a reverse Ewer. The Ewer laid at the top of the triangle, pointing the whole trifecta upwards. 

“... That’s bad, right?” Shining asked, her brows furrowing together. 

Nive inhaled, and stepped back from the table slightly, going to rub her temples. “It depends, but … generally, yeah. It’s bad. Reverse cards, all with ‘dark’ aspected elements, with them coming out on top of the rest of the divination…” 

“What’re we in for?” Helisent asked, looking down at the cards. Urianger’s set was beautiful and new, but the art was made by someone who didn’t understand what he had been asking for, and could only replicate it as best as they were able. Nive’s set was worn and old, but each card was tangibly hers, with a sort of history and weight to them that seemed to demand attention. 

“If I had to hazard a guess,” Nive started, her tail waving just slightly, “we’re being followed by an Ascian. And not just any Ascian, but a red mask. I’d … probably go so far as to say someone on par with Lahabrea, or Elidibus.” 

“Lahabrea was a chump, though,” Hel protested. 

“A chump that only died after he was battered and broken by us, and then slain by a primal fueled by two of Nidhogg’s eyes and a millennia of prayer,” Nive reminded her darkly. “And that was after we had forcibly expelled him from Thancred, and sent him fleeing back to the Rift. We seriously wounded him at the Praetorium, and he must have been still recovering from that.” 

“I love hearing about your wacky adventures when I wasn’t there,” Shining muttered. “So what, another Ascian is coming for us? It’ll die like the rest.” 

“... You didn’t have to fight Elidibus,” Hel muttered, hugging herself as she tried not to recall the memory. 

“Whatever is coming for us, we need to be ready,” Nive said firmly. “Take extra precautions, check people’s shadows to make sure they have one. We’re trying to prevent a Calamity, and that’s the Ascian’s number one goal. Of course we’re going to find one skulking about.”