#ffxivwrite2019

“Fate takes a deposit against one’s life. You get the deposit back afterward, or apply it to the next one.” - Katryn Vaunter, “Personal Logs.” The all consuming glow faded. The ground met Bandia’s feet. But the hand pressing on the small of her back remained. As the Aetheryte plaza in Ul’Dah came into full focus she instinctively turned to the right looking for this errand boy of Tatania brought her too, only he wasn’t there. “Madam Sulistian.” her escort said curtly to her left, startling Bandia enough that she jumped in fright. Recovering her indignity cast a baleful glare at the middleman. “Will you please. I have had quite enough of this.” She spat at the man. “Have you now? My heart bleeds. I weep for your inconvenience, and could you demonstrate more tact in speaking aloud than you do your mode of dress. Let us away from here and it’s many eyes and ears.” The man gripped Bandia’s arm with enough force to brook no resistance from Bandia. He lead her out of the Aetheryte plaza and towards the city gate beyond.

As they neared the gate their progress was halted by a caravan from the merchants' district departing under escort. The escort consisted of a pair of riders at the front and others interspersed between wagons, all making open show of the arms the bore. Many of these riders wore patches of a white tree on a black field. Volunteers and militia from the Scions of Numenor. Others displayed the more stylized winged sword and tree icon of the Thursby Company. The courier became agitated as the riders and wagons kept him from the Chocobo porter beyond. Bandia took no pleasure at the sight either. Her rivals had gained greatly as caravans escorted such as this and for her part she could not manage to secure contracts for escorting or the goods being transported. It was maybe the chief reason she had consented to working with the Umberbreakers. “Twinkinrykers.” Bandia muttered. To her surprise the courier nodded and his expression hardened at her saying the name. “Best not forget that either.” The caravan having passed, he continued with Bandia to the porter. “Where are you absconding with me to now?” She asked bitterly. “Noplace thankfully. I am returning to my duties. You however are to return to your business and make ready to assemble the next shipment of Linkpearl sets. I will return with to exchange the companies pearls for our own in a week. Good day miss Sulistian.” With that the courier turned for the porter from whom he rented a Chocobo and he rode away. Bandia considered if she had made a mistake in becoming part of these peoples plotting. But spying the lingering end of the caravan her resentment of her rivals in business was stoked again and she cast those reservations aside and returned to her quarters.

*******

Thirty miles north of Kugane and by design the caravans from the port split into several sections and rode toward different destinations. Each retained a mounted escort. Pitched attempts to extort the caravans, much less overt attacks, had almost ceased over the past year thanks to the efforts of contract escorts. The largest of the groups from the convoy to Kugane was escorted by the Sons of Numenor. The guards were newer, less seasoned and most felt their purpose had largely been filled when attacks by people had ceased. As such the normal routine of scouts and guards riding on ridgelines had fallen out of practice. Drunken Garleans were the most dangerous thing seen in months and easy to see coming. Sober raiders keeping discipline went unobserved. Such was the case again tonight. A pair of riders concealed themselfs, making careful notes of the composition of the escorts. They would break-off once the convoy reached the village ahead and report to their commander in Kugane. *******

Following dinner, Aubreen forsook the Bokaisen Onsen for the more exclusive, traditional Crystal Spring. A considerable walk beyond Bokaisen, it was still segregated by gender. Private suites afforded couples and the working men and women space for rendezvous. The springs themselves were cultured stone and built decades prior by a retiring warlord. The men and women’s springs each had views of the port miles below. The distance ensured the cliente were not the average sailors and relationships of situational convenience.

For the uninitiated an Onsen could be a condensed and unnerving experience. There were kindred experiences in other regions, and anyone serving in uniform learned to lose modest quickly enough. But the tradition steeped details and freedom from distractions could focus people on their insecurities. This began with bathing in a traditional open room with the female patrons. Katryn was far from a prude by any measure, but she never failed to feel more self conscious as she and Aubreen disrobed and placed their cloths in the small baskets which would sit in the dressing space outside the bathing room.

Women were similarly unclad and using the flow of hot water spigots to bathe before and after entering the hot springs themselves sitting on the small stools around the edge of the room. Aubreen and Katryn occupied two of these and as was common enough between them, washed each others hair. The Crystal Sky provided the customary towels to its patrons. The towels were little more than washcloths in size. Not large enough to fully wrap around a waist much less also cover one’s upper body. Each patron had their own traditions of using these towels according to their sense of modesty. Those senses ranged from preserving some modest with wrapping some of one’s body, to folding the town and placing it on ones head to keep it from falling in the water.

Aubreen and Katryn shared the practice of walking their towels in-hand, rolled. They took their time and selected a quite corner of the least occupied springs in the women’s half. Half or more of the women bathing moments ago had proceeded to couples suites. Only a few women had taken to the other spring pools. Aubreen observed Katryn looking around as they sunk into the water. “Were all of those women leaving? I did not think there were many suites here?” Katryn asked. “Guild women mostly, a few women of independent standing.” Aubreen explained. Katryn looked surprised. “Working women you mean, they have a guild?” she asked. Aubreen nodded. “I do not use the term but yes and there is a guild. They have considerable influence in the merchant and hospitality trade here.” Katryn pondered and shook her head. “I’ve never considered such work in the sense of being business, I couldn’t see myself doing that.” She said. “Of course not.” Aubreen said. “Because you have had a path laid before you since you were born. Mind your thoughts though. When you unjustly judge another's station in life, fate has a habit of booking a ticket to the same place.” she finished. Katryn nodded, her eyes focused on her lover as she spoke. But Aubreen’s eyes were affixed on something on the dark horizon. A great shape was dimly backlit by the crescent moon’s light. The airship was a massive, nonsensical mass in the shadows. “There is our mystery contact from yesterday.” Aubreen said. Katryn rose some in the water and looked out. “He’s not alone” She added. Aubreen stood and walked to the end of the spring pool. Like all of her blood, her sight was manyfold better than Katryn’s. “Gunships. The Garlean variety we have been seeing. Also, four smaller vessels, walker skifts.” Aubreen reported. Katryn could not see the could not see the smaller vessels and so sat back into the water her own eyes fixing on Aubreen as she turned and walked back to her. Intimate activities were expressly not allowed in onsens but she allowed herself the privilege of observation for the moment. Aubreen smirked and sat near her.” “Log and report it tomorrow. Where were we?” She said.

“You are saying we are fated to be what we are?” Katryn asked. Aubreen shook her head. “Sometimes, yes. I think we choose to live. In doing so we make a covenant with the great mystery and its sovereign.” Aubreen said. “So some have purpose but not all?” Katryn asked. Aubreen shrugged. “Some find their purpose, or make it. Others have it thrust upon them. Be it by happenstance or design.”

“So we live more than once?” Katryn asked.

“We can, but do we? That again is a choice. In my races’ tradition it is possible but not obligatory. “ She looked at Katryn inquisitively, wondering what was pressing on her mind to be on about this now. “Your own race does too. Many faces, many names but always them.” Aubreen said.

“By that do you mean Benjimir?” Katryn asked Aubreen.

“It does.” She said.

“Does he know?” Katryn followed-up. “Not that he has demonstrated but I believe he has begun to suspect. He had despaired for years before Haydaelyn. No sense he would have a chance to contribute a chapter to the long Thursby story. That sat ill with him. But Dalamud. And over these past six years he senses his purpose for this life.” Aubreen said.

*******

Xyncalla approached Wayng Chun’Chunyt.at the ally near her rickshaw. “The tacky woman was taken. Ul’Dah if I had to guess but that is not my department.” She said. In his even and almost expressionless tone Wang nodded and commented. “Too many elements to reconcile. We need a primer to be able to read these tea leafs.” “I was able to learn the entire Onsen was secured for this evening.” Xyncalla reported. “Umberbreaker?” Wayng asked. “Scheer.” She told Wayng. He nodded. “Very well. It would suggest he commands the beast, it is putting into port as we speak.” He paused. “Return to the Onsen. Find favorable means to know whom is there tonight and what business is conducted. I am off to present my card to the Commodore. We may not have chance to meet again for a time.” Wayng ordered. Xyncalla nodded. “At once. Light’s path Wayng.” She said. “See with the Crystal’s eyes my friend.” Wayng said, bowing his head slightly.

******* The rented Chocobo trailed the caravan from Ul’Dah until it reached the first village beyond. Leaving it with the porter he withdrew his own mount from the village stables he resumed following the caravan studying it and the escorts protecting it until satisfied. He turned back for the village and by it’s Aetheryte plaza jaunted to Umberbreaker compound many miles away.

*******

Wayng sat quietly in the lobby space of the Onsen. As Aubreen and Katryn emerged from the change rooms he stood up and approached the women. With a slight bow he presented a small card with his name to Aubreen. “Well met mister Chu’chunyt. Captain Vaunter of the SNS Andustar.” she said to Wayng. Katryn clicked her boot heels with a smile and bowed. “Your servant captain.” Wayng said. “The beast has returned mister Chu’chunyt.” Aubreen said. “Yes commodore. My observer has made me aware of a gathering of officers and a member of the Umberbreaker clan in Kugane this night.” He reported. “Miss Duskarie?” she asked Wayng. And paused in thought and continued. “I would ask you to have her join us in Tondera Hall, but first may I ask you to have her see what more she can learn of this meeting?” “It has already been so ordered Commodore.” Wayng answered.

“Excellent. We sail for Ul’Dah at dawn, report to me aboard Andustar. We will await you there.” Aubreen said.

*******

Tatania Umberbreaker favored making her briefs with a certain amount of professional decorum and subty. An onsen bought-out for his officers were neither professional nor proper. If she knew he would not overstep his boundaries given her family name, Fleet Legatus Lucium Scheer was a creature who insisted on the full measure of entitlement his rank afforded him. Her orders were to return the Umberbreaker compound which had the function of ensuring she would not linger. However she did not have time to maneuver around this. Knowing this Scheer had ensured the customary separation of genders in the onsens did not apply as he held court

in the main spring pool with his officers. Tatania strood from the bathing room to the steps of the spring pool without any sign of self consciousness. Scheer and the commanders of the escorts accompanying the airship Ascendancy were already soaking in the pool awaiting her arrival.

The officers managed to suppress crass comments and cat calls but their lingering eyes conveyed their sentiments. “We are graced with your presence Lady Umberbreaker.” Scheer said with a smile. “Can your men breathe under water or do you stand periodically so they may kiss your arse Lucium?” Tatania said and walked into the spring pool to and sunk into the water to mid-chest depth, leaving her towel at the ledge. Tatania ignored the officers entirely and locked eyes with Scheer. She fenced with Scheer, arching her back or rising in the water daring him to shift his focus. Above them in an ornamental balcony feature, concealed by shadow and the night, Xyncalla looked listened intently the next two hours as Tatania and Scheer traded crass barbs between discussing dispatches and orders for the Ascendancy. She found it excellent theater.

*******

Some forty miles outside of Kugane the largest of the caravans escorted by the Scions of Numenor reached its destination. A small village, hit hard by the actions of the off duty Garlean troops from the consulate guard in Kugane. Merchants had only begun to restock their wares, trusting in the Scions to protect their orders. The eldars saw to the distribution of food stuffs sent gratis by the Thursby Company. The escorts remained mounted, circulating up and down the wagons. This had the effect of keeping off-duty Garlean troopers from nearing the caravan save for two whom newly arrived were sauntering toward a wagon when the hands of their sargent gripped their shoulders. A stern look and shake of his head sent them back to the pub entrance where several others chastised them as they approach, making off-handed gestures to the Chocobos and their riders.

*******

“Wayng is not a veteran of uniformed service and has not led a naval battle before. However his analytical prowess is extraordinary. “ Aubreen said to Katryn as she drew a large finely crafted wooden box from her sea chest. “He is to be commissioned then?” Katryn asked carrying the courier envelope to the chart table. “Yes,” she replied, taking the envelope and placing it atop of the box. “He has several bright prospects that could serve us well at need and Benjimir is adamant that we improve our intelligence stance.” A knock on the stateroom door concluded their discussion. Answering the knocks Katryn opened the door and welcomed Wayng Chun’nyte into the quarters.

“Good day captain,” said as he stepped in. Bowing his head he greeted Aubreen. “Commodore T’Subaki. Reporting as ordered.”

“Enter, welcome aboard the Andustar. Tea?” Aubreen offered as Wayng joined her at the chart table.

“Please. “ He answered.

Katryn stepped to the serving table near the main chart table. “Sugar?” she asked

“Yes, one lump please.”

Handing Wayng his tea Katryn joined them at the chart table.

“Xyncalla has resumed observations in Kugane, she will report as she learns more about the Garlean.” “Very well. It is well you are able to join us for this crossing to Ul’Dah there is work to be done.”

“Orders?” Wayng asked. Aubreen gestured to the box and courier envelope.

“Take these dispatches and report to Admiral Thursby at Tondera Hall. For yourself, take these. This is my personal set of wargaming pieces and such.” Wayng seemed surprised. He took a moment to open the hinged lid to the box and viewed the contents. Placing his open hand over his chest he bowed his head. “You honor me with this.” Wayng said. “You may thank me by making good use of them. From among your dispatches you will have returned to you scenarios which I want you to begin to work through. Report your results to the admiral, he will review them and complete your training as we have discussed.”

“By your command.”

Katryn flared her brow but chooses to discount the comment. “Anything further commodore?” Wayng asked. “Not at this time, we will speak further during the crossing.” Aubreen replied.

“I will take my leave of you then ma’am.” He said and bowed his head to Katryn. “Excellent tea.”

“Good journey Wayng.”

“Safe journey commodore. Good night.” Wayng bowed slightly and carried the box and dispatches to his quarters.

Katryn replaced the tea cups for the cabin steward to take from the serving cart.

“You will not be training him further?” She asked Aubreen. “Not directly, I am aligned with Benjimir in that we need to build our own domestic source of skilled war and strategic planners. Wayng is part of that plan.” Aubreen replied.

Aubreen sensed the uncertainty in Katryn, another rising star within the chain of command might cause that. “Peace my dear. As we spoke of today. Yours is a different path and true to only you. Let us make ours for tonight to bed.” Aubreen kissed Katryn and led her to their quarters.

*******

Aubreen’s personal journal would later reflect that she fell into a deep sleep that night. In the early watches aboard Andustar her mind was filled with a dream. As her vision began she found herself walking down a green slope below a great hall of white stone. The grass was cool on her feet and moist with morning dew. The hall seemed to stretch beyond the horizon to the north and south.

The slope led her through trees and down into a morning haze until the great hall seemed to loom above her as if set on a cloud. Finally she came through the mists to the edge of a narrow stream. Beyond and high above the fog on the opposite bank was a hall of very great size but entirely different form. On the opposing bank a shadow grew in the fog. Slowly it emerged from the vail. The form was of a woman, dark long hair, limp in posture and head seemingly looking about. The face was yet undefined in Aubreen’s vision and if she thought she felt she recognized it, clearly it knew her. As form came free of the fog it’s shoulder stiffened and head rose at once. A hand rose, palm extended. It began to wave as the vision ended.

Aubreen rose in bed. Choosing not to disturb Katryn beside her, she drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. A gentle, contented smile formed on her lips, but also a slight tear in her eye. The dreams were visions of peace and beauty. However with the beauty came sadness. It meant her gift of foresight had returned.

******* https://archiveofourown.org/works/24865591

The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor - “Pressure Bands.”

FFXIV Write Prompt #3, “Scale.”

“Osimira’s unchallenged purview was in matters of technocraft, engineering, Dossimir theory. I hold her in the highest respect as I would like to think is mutual. She recognized not all answers came by equation or through electromagnetic bonds. So she turned to me in compiling a base of information from historic records and journals. It was a successful project, but we began to discover more than we were looking for. It was not long before our research gave rise to the keeping of dream logs. Not all answers were to be found in history either.” - Tinifalas Thursby, “Stranger in a Strange Land.”

Bondermir arrived to find Wang, Vilnius, as Osimira, and Vaunter already assembled about the room. A chart table, rounds of drink and the plates of at least one meal already atop of it. Osimira and Wang were pondering numbers and such on a chalkboard. Vilnius and Maxwell were at the far end of the table gamefully discussing a small chart between them over cups of wine. For his part Benjimir was enraptured by his book. The title read “Thermobaric Physics in Application.” in inlaid gold pressed letters. “A bit of light reading?” Bondermir asked as he drew a chair up near his brother at the table. Benjimir lowered his book and adjusted his glasses on his nose. “Light” he spoke with emphasis, “is almost precisely the problem, ironically.” he said, pulling the bookmark between the pages and closing the book as he dropped the book between them.

Picking the book up and look over the title and thumbing through the chapter Benjimir had been reading. “There are alternatives to this. Simpler.” Bondermir said. “Again, no. Simpler to employ, more complex in the repercussions.” Benjimir said. Another round in a lingering difference of opinion began. “A lot has been….and will be sacrificed to make the moment possible. If this phase does not succeed it may all prove for nought. And for a matter of principle.” Bondermir replied but Benjimir was having none of it in this iteration of the debate.

“Sacrificed for these principles. Not because of them.” Benjimir said firmly and with a glare leveled into Bondermir’s eyes which made it clear the issue was closed. Bondermir nodded low and held his open palms up in supplication. Then he leaned back and gestured to the book and table charts. “And how goes it with this?” He asked. “It does not scale.” Benjimir said, shrugging and glancing with his eyes and a nod to Osimira and Wang who were gamefully drawing and counter-drawing on the chalkboard. On a smaller scale, yes, but the volume of space at the objective, not so much.” Bondermir nodded. “Fuel problem?” He asked. “Volume and chemistry actually.” Benjimir answered. “Ceruleum is well suited for the task. But how to transport the volume needed and the mix that will sustain the detonation.”

“The detonation won’t support itself even with Ceruleum?” Bondermir asked. “Within certain pressure bands, yes, but as the explosion expands it fills the space, the physics change, the ignition point to trigger the ceruleum changes. On a smaller scale different mixes can actually detonate as that happens and sustain the explosion. But then pressure builds, the physics change again, and so forth. Bonding the Corillium infused gas with third elements, mixed in fourth or fifth elements, that is nothing that has been done before.” Benjimir elaborated to the extent of his understanding of the matter. “Wang and Osimira are working the problem now. Until the delivery method is determined the rest is moot.” Benjimir said as he reached for another cup of tea. “What are we calling this phase, should it be included in the final plan?” Bondermir asked. Benjimir took a long sip and replied.

“Almighty.”

The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor -

"The Weakest Link, The Harkening Walls."

FFXIV Write 2021, Prompt #2, “Aberrant”

"If in the absence of any plausible alternative explanation, the most evident solution will prove the correct one.”

- Dossimir’s Posit of Likelihood

The meeting had ended with a palpable tension which was unusual unto itself. Mounting losses and strategies inexplicably frustrated, had all created a sense of urgency within the Free Companies. Outwardly the leadership remained professional and confidant. Never the less there was an edge to Benjimir’s implicit ultimatum to Bondermir. “Fix this.” he had said to Bondermir. A tinge of anger was unmistakable. Perhaps not with Bondermir but maybe a helplessness Benjimir himself felt toward being unable to guide the companies into having the upperhand. Osimira’s forte was the technocraft and engineering challenges encountered. In her annex within the Tondera Hall workshop, she had become the purveyor of crazy solutions to impossible challenges. Determining the cause of breaches in operational security was new however. A technical failure, in design or construction was simple. This was qualitative however, not quantitative. A breach was a material fact in her mind. Not a matter of people, trust, and so forth. Therefore she resolved to review all within her domain for an unforeseen oversight or error. As Osimira settled into her room of workbenches and chalkboards she set her mind to what works she had engaged with since arriving in Eorzea. She quickly focused on projects which involved any effort involving parties outside of the Free Companies. For the moment she refused to consider a breach to be likely from within the Thursby or Scions companies. Tapping notes and dossiers she remained ensconced in the workshop for several days. Soon she was reminded of a report from the Fleet arm, summing repeated aberrant performance of the Linkpearls connecting water and air borne ships of the company fleet. “Surely not.” Osimira thought. The very principles of their functions and creation would make breaching their transmissions virtually impossible. Additionally, the links, or comstones as they were often called within the company were crafted within it’s staff. “But not wholly so.” Osimira realized. “Not any longer.” Her thought process continued. The components were increasingly sourced from a vendor in Ul’Dah. The cabinets holding the base stations, tone pushers, and relay boxes came from other local crafters. Local Lalafels assembled the final devices, a Hyur owned the contract to produce them, and beyond that little was known of external points of contact. “Not an antiseptic process.” She considered. The technical and theoretical manner in which the links could have been compromised was not clear, but that was not important. Under the current circumstance the risk that it could be done was enough to require validating it hadn’t or couldn’t be.

The report logged ships, including the late Andustar under Captain Vaunter’s command, dates, and the aberrant performance observed. Most of the details were summed as audio quality issues, cross-chat across links, latent “interference” which in theory couldn’t occur. Similar issues and worse had been logged about the White Fleet upwell years prior as the Red Moon progressed through its destruction. Shards embedded in the hulls of several ships, and others since acquired lead Osimira to spend considerable time reaching the shards, culminating in a unnerving demonstration to Benjimir as others nearly a year prior.

For the next week Osimira arrayed examples of Linkpearls from across the fleet in her workshop. On several chalkboards she began mapping possible correlations between comms traffic and subsequent encounters with Garlean gunships. Breaking down by those incidents with plausible connections by those vessels with Linkpearls produced in Eorzea, the charts began to craft an increasingly clear picture. Feeling she had the root of the breeches, she summoned Benjimir and Bondermir to brief them.

“How it is possible is a theory at this point. Except it is unlikely to be within the means of the set makers. There must be another that is enabling the sets to share what is said on the links.” Osimira said to Benjimir and Bondermir. “Yet.” She added thoughtfully, her next mystery being set before her, officially or not. “That his is occurring is more important than how for now.” Benjimir said, eyes fixed on the chart sketched out on the board before him by Osimira. Lines connected boxes, laying out the chain of communications and long curved lines from an incident back to box above a list of company vessels using the Linkpearl sets built on contract in Eorzea. “We can recall the sets, stretch our remaining comstones in their place……” Bondermir began to say but Benjimir was already shaking his head. “No.” Benjimir said, turning to his brother and Osimira. “Leave the sets in place, continue to order more. But do issue our own gear directly to the commanders. Our enemy has taken its time reeling us in like fish, we will let me continue to play with his rod while we change what is on the hook.” Bondermir looked grim. “The Linkpearls? Alright, that connects the results with the breach. But how they were compromised remains an open question.” he said. Benjimir nodded. “Aye, I leave that to you to “fix.” he responded. “Miegs, my compliments and thanks. Continue your work into how this was done. Bondi, set a meeting with Commodore Chu’nyt, Capatains Vaunter, Funderwhite, Hedges and Maxwell.” Benjimir said and took his leave of Osimira. Osimira returned to her work on the Linkpearl sets. Finishing her notes as she listened to signals traffic from the Linkpearl sets on a small speaker, her writing was interrupted as she became aware of traffic. The signals were from an old Linkpearl set brought to Eorzea with them more than six years ago, it had been logged due to incident reports from near to Dalumnd’s fall. She flipped her page of notes over and began to note the cypher traffic. A few moments later in the now guarded “Tondera Watch” room the duty watch deciphered the notes. On read the results Osimira thanked the officers and walked back to her workshop.

She paused briefly outside of her workshop. “That should not be possible.” She thought. “Yet.”

FFXIV Write 2021 entry, prompt #1 “Foster.”

The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor “Fetch and Carry.”

“Boredom is the birthmother of frivolity. Given enough time a sufficiently unengaged people will give rise to the same trinkets and distractions and the craft which makes them possible.”

-Ossmira Miegs, “Technospectives.”

Ches sifted her way through the dirt with a soft brush from her kit until reaching solidly packed soil, hardened for a millenia or longer. She replaced the brush to her leather dig kit and withdrew a small rock hammer. The head was new to the handle, made of pure Mythril from the east. It was a gift of sorts from a close associate who was bound to a pack of private mariner soldiers for hire. There was as story, even a song about the broken hammer heads his kindred. They were foster children to a venerated woman named Mother Maxwell. Not unlike herself.

The hammer made short work of the condensed dirt and after further work she came upon her quarry. Drawing it from a pocket of soil, which had produced a form fitting pocket that protected it for until she found it, she packed her kit and wrapped the strange object in an oil rag and deposited it in her long leather duster. Satisfied her work was done, she adjusted the rim of her leather fedora, turned and spied a ring of men in the hall between her and the exit. “Chocopoo.” she muttered.

Baxter Twinkinryker IV, “The Quad,” as his kindred Lalafel dubbed him, favored a tweed jacket with leather elbow pads and a rust hued fedora favored by his compatriots. His broom like mustache was not common but seemed to complete the quasi academic look he favored.

He awaited Ches’ returned quietly outside the archway to the ruins. The fat chocobo he rented from the keeper in Ul’Dah cooed and pecked upward at the bait at the end stick riders would use to direct it along, hoping for a random bite.

At last the rapid footfalls from within the entrance faded as Ches came in a tremendous rush out of it. As she passed him and began to mount the Chocobo he asked, “Was it there? Did you get it there?”

Somewhere in the Great Gubal Library, Wren was screaming.

The dragon had holed herself up in the library the moment she got word of Thancred’s mysterious “illness”. Her frustration, anger, and pure panic kept rising as she learned of Urianger, Y'shtola, and the twins falling to this “illness”.

K’ome had tried to explain what happened during each ‘attack’, but even then it didn’t help much.

In all her long life, Wren had never heard of anything like this happening, and as far as she could tell, no one else has. But she had barely scratched the surface of the library, so she still had some hope.

Then Tataru contacted her, telling her K’ome was gone.

Not like the others, who slept, but physically no longer on the star.

The only thing keeping Wren from full on panic mode was the comment Tataru had said before the call ended. “She’s gone to find the others. She’ll bring them back. I believe her.”

The candle had just been lit.

The body laid out on the table. 

The sound of keening could be heard around the room and throughout the house.

K'ome stood next to the body, numb shock, he looked like he was asleep, smiling peacefully. She wanted to reach out and nudge him awake. Tease him playing this awful trick on her. It wasn't funny.

The candle was half the size it had been.

Wax puddling around the stand.

The keening had quieted but there were still sobs if one paid attention.

K'ome put a hand on his cheek, as if trying to give him some of her warmth. "This isn't funny, Haurchefant," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Wake up. We have much to do still..."

The candle was little more than wet wax and the wick.

The flame the only movement in the room.

Everyone already gone to bed.

"Yda...are you sure this will work?" Papalymo asked, looking at his partner, then at the obvious 'trap' the girl had set up in front of them.

"Relax! The poachers will never notice! All we have to do is wait for them to find the bait, follow it here, then once they get under the box, we'll put the stick out and trap them underneath!"

"...Did K'ome give you this idea?"

"Yes, why?"

Papalymo sighed as he could hear snickering from a tree behind them, "K'ome, that's not funny."

K'ome came out from behind the tree, grinning as her tail flicked playfully behind her, "I couldn't help myself. Yda asked for a good trap idea and I gave her one."

"One that works on creatures, not poachers!"

"Guys! Guys! I caught something!" Yda explained, yanking the rope tied to the stick that propped the box up.

"What? Really?" both the Lalafel and Miqo'te asked, rushing over to Yda.

"Yep! Want to see if we caught a poacher?"

"Yda, for the last time..."

Yda laughed, "Papalymo, I know K'ome's trap was supposed to be a joke. But it got us what we need anyways." She got down, tilted the box just enough to stick her arm under it, and pulled out a squirrel, "It caught us some dinner tonight!"

"I think we'll need more than one..." K'ome said, looking at the small creature.

"That's why we'll set it up again and wait!"