#context is irrelevant

One of the jewellers, a dark-skinned woman in her early thirties, gives an unimpressed stare when they approach her stand. "Well, well. I thought you would show up sooner or later."

"Were we expected? Do you often check up on your competition here, Helvi?" Arya asks with a giggle.

"You could say that, girl," the jeweller cuts in before Helvi can answer the question; her accent is familiar, albeit quite uncommon in Limsa Lominsa. "My name is Enid and I believe you met my son Elstan last night. He claimed you unleashed a swarm of angry wespes at his silly crybaby of a friend."

"I bet he did." Helvi stares back at her. Running into one doting mother while fleeing from another - of course it was bound to happen. "He struck me as a lad who had a lot to say about everything."

"Ha! My boy is indeed talkative and his imagination runs wild when not restrained. But he should be smart enough to recognize your gear. I thought I taught him well of the history of my homeland."

"Homeland? Are you... Gyr Abanian, madam?" Arya asks timidly.

"I was... once. Which is why I know what you're trying to do there - and I wonder what for. Are you playing pretend without knowing the true meaning of your game?"

"We're not playing any game!" Arya raises her voice with indignation, all timidness instantly gone. "You should have seen Helvi fight off all those wespes, while X'rhun was working hard to heal H'nethi and me! With real red magic!"

"So you say. Elstan did mention a Miqo'te man - the leader? Another red mage wanna-be?"

"Not a wanna-be, but a true Crimson Duelist who's been teaching us all he knows!"

"The Crimson Duelists were freedom fighters. How can a sheltered princess like you relate to that?" Enid's voice drips with bitterness and something else - regret? Spite? "That's an experience which can only be gained, not taught. What does he expect from the likes of you?"

"And what do you know about my experience? Or Helvi's?" It is plain to see Arya is intent on having the last word in this argument. "If our mentor deems us worthy of his teachings, it's all that matters!"

"She's right, you know," Helvi's voice sounds calm in contrast, but no less firm. "We may not share a history, but is that supposed to stop him from sharing his experience? Would you rather see the tradition die?"

"I'd rather see it live on where it belongs, that's all. Among those who truly understand it."

That's the point, lady: most of them are long dead. That's what she should say. That's what she is going to say. And yet, she clenches the hilt of her rapier and spews out something else entirely. "If you're so fond of your homeland, then why are you here, instead of going back and fighting for it?" And there it is. This time there's no armour-clad figure to stick around and say these lines for her. As she finishes speaking, she closes her eyes to isolate herself from Enid's shocked stare.

So much red behind the eyelids.

"I... Hmph." The jeweller's voice seems to come from afar. "You've changed, Herlfryd. Now that you're some sort of adventurer, you think everything is that easy and simple, don't you?"

The Warrior of Light opens her eyes and looks around, at the streets of the city she used to call home. "No," she says quietly before she walks away. "On the contrary."

The mood for shopping is all gone and there's no point of staying at the market. As they are leaving, Arya takes her friend's arm with a worried expression; Helvi notices it and gently pats her hand.

"Mistress Enid spoke as if she was quite familiar with you. Do you know her?"

"Gods damn me if I remember." Helvi shakes her head with a mirthless chuckle. How many more Lominsans who knew her in the past have the same opinion about her as that woman does? Hells, what if they used to be good friends? What if she was right and they play red mages like ignorant children?...

No.

"Before you ask," Helvi says after a long, heavy sigh, "I, too, lost my memories several years ago and some of them still haven't come back."

"You-?!" Arya's eyes widen in shock. "How did it happen? Were you drugged, like me?"

"No, I..." A long pause; should she tell this girl who relies on her so much that she shut off and rejected her past? "It might've had something to do with magic. You see, I had no magic abilities; they only appeared after the memory loss and-"

"I wouldn't have thought we had this much in common... Is that why you're being so caring? Because you can relate?"

"I'm helping you, because I can relate. I'm caring, because you're adorable." Helvi corrects her with a smirk. "And you've got quite a spirit, after all, talking back at her like that. Shall I tell X'rhun what a devoted defender he's got?"

"Please, there's no need for that!... Unless I tell him I wasn't the only one?"

"No, thanks. I didn't say those things for the applause."

"Neither did I. Now that I know what a kind and honourable man he is, I couldn't bear to hear someone judge him without even meeting him in person." Arya lets out a sigh that turns into a chuckle. "I know he thinks I'm afraid of him, but I'm honestly not - it's just that at our first meeting, he seemed so intense and... intimidating."

"You can say that again," Helvi replies with a smile, recalling her own first impression of her mentor, which has remained unchanged. Truly, there is intensity in everything he does - and passion, the kind of passion she herself once had - and, ironically, his icy blue eyes could burn one to ashes as easily as warm one's heart. Perhaps that was what made her follow him in the first place - not the magic, not even the hat?

Follow even if uninvited, damn it.

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