...

Really.

I cannot say this is a particular boost to my confidence. While I was capable of tracking them here, I've never navigated these forests without that goal in mind. Thus, I cannot be expected to handle that portion of our navigation to our goal in an unfamiliar land.

Given that fact, why is it that we are lost? Exactly what is the excuse for this?

It's the Edren men's fault. I'm certain of it. This dense, humid forest is so far out of their experience that they have managed to get themselves turned around.

Of course, I am well-supplied with food. A single one of my riceballs a day is sufficient to keep me going without worry of fatigue. With that being said, waste of supplies due to being lost out in the wilderness is hardly a wonderful start to the task we have been assigned.

---With that being said...

The slavering, howling beasts. I am no hunter, but I understand the principles of living things all the same. And while the current task is elsewhere, Cid is directly related to my overarching goal.

I reach into the pouch a my hip, my eyes scanning over the beastly creatures. Their distorted forms evoke a painful image, twisted beasts who are no monsters having been warped into them.

I take a deep breath.

The heart is a difficult target on the larger of them. My physical power isn't sufficient to punch through the muscle and bone in the way, particularly for the bears, with enough speed to avoid counterattack. The wolves and other creatures are somewhat easier, but still perhaps not the ideal target.

The throat. The eyes. Soft, undefended locations even on these distorted beasts. Those are my goals.

The sharp, black form of a kunai emerges from my pouch, and with it---

"I would request that you shield your eyes, for a moment."

I raise the kunai and press its tip to the string.

"Burn."

Fire flows from my veins, deep within me. The Fire Materia is useful for direct offense, but it also reduces the amount of equipment that I must carry.

The heat radiates through the steel kunai, setting it alight and catching the bomb aflame.

I raise it up over my head and take aim. Away from Sagramore-san, as of course the Edren man has chosen to rush in, in order to give him time to react.

As it leaves my hand, I shield my eyes as well, tucking my ears against my head.

Crack---

A flash of light. A burst of sound.

For even a moment, these will serve as needles directly thrust into the senses of the beasts before us.

My pack hits the ground. I need to shed the weight to move faster. In the same moment, my blade swiftly leaves its sheath on the back of my hips.

I'll target the most dangerous of the beasts nearest to the initial blast. While they're stunned, I'll eliminate them. Cut them out like the sad disease that they are.

I throw myself forward, pressing my palm to the kashira and sending a surge of fire up the blade's edge as I swiftly approach the nearest of the blighted bears. They are without a doubt the greatest threat out of the various beasts, and right now they are immobilized, if only briefly.

That is all the time that I require.

It is rearing back, throat out of reach, roaring as its eyes and ears are for the moment disabled and in pain.

I push off the ground, arm rising in an arc.

There is a hiss as fur and flesh and blight meets burning steel, the brief resistance that swiftly gives way, and an arc of spraying, afflicted blood.

I hit the ground and keep moving. The more swiftly I move, the more difficult of a target I am, so I simply won't stop if I can help it.

A blighted wolf is in my way, snapping jaws closing shut just ahead of me. I answer it just as swiftly, thrusting the tip of my sword through its neck and then turning, dragging crimson and fire with me as I look for the next of the bears. They'll recover soon, but---

I can delay that a moment longer.

I take aim as my free hand reaches into my pouch again, drawing another kunai. Its eyes are starting to open, so I simply won't allow that.

A swift throw, carefully aimed and accounting for positioning.

One of those barely-opened eyes is pierced, the beast letting out a bellow as it's sent reeling.

I use its body as a platform, pushing of the ground, onto its side, and thrusting the blazing edge of my sword into its neck.

As it falls, I'm already leaving it.

Beasts are beasts, of course, but they are like humans in many respects.

Even blighted, they will still die from a cut throat.

---

The trip to Brightlam was proving to be almost as much of a hostile one as Osprey- Galahad had not anticipated there being truly so many blightbeasts out here in Drana Asaneu. It made their strict position on neutrality that much more baffling, really. Perhaps the Grovemasters weren't as capable of rule as he'd thought, though Galahad decided not to voice that line of thinking aloud, lest he encourage the others to insist on going forward on eliminating them. They'd been avoiding the major roads, using smaller backroads or just trekking through the rainforests themselves, trees so tall, that Galahad would've been hard pressed to reach the canopy with his leaps. Possible certainly, but not without the risk of cracking his skull or getting caught on a hidden tree branch- though he was sure that would entertain some of the folks in his midst. A smaller group might've been able to avoid detection on more well traveled paths, but their group was hardly small at this point, they couldn't just follow along the main roads, any passing patrol would easily detect their movements, so cutting their own path was required.

The fact that they had run into Cid, again, in the midst of all of this was nothing short of miraculous- especially when they'd been pondering whether or not they were lost just some hours before. But here he was, as was Ramuh, yet another Eidolon, though thankfully considerably less hostile towards them at least. Bolts of lightning cracked from the sky, making Galahad's own look like mere sparks in comparison, though comparing an Eidolon to materia wasn't even a comparison really. Luckily, the Eidolon's wrath was not directed towards them, rather the great sages, both of them, were in the middle of being beset by blightbeasts.

And so, the Kirins were once again called upon into action.

"Scatter them!" Galahad called out, leaping into the air, a relatively shorter hop than he was used to as he capitalized on beasts Rudolf had knocked back with gravity. Armored boots sent a lifted blightwolf crashing back into the ground as Galahad pushed off of it and landed onto the back of a great bear, a magnificent beast had it not been blighted. Raising his halberd up, Galahad reversed it in his grip as electricity crackled down the haft and into the blade before driving it down into the back of the bear's neck, wrenching the weapon upwards to take the beast's head off in a single stroke. At this point, this was more of the same for them- just a bit more beasts than usual was all. Or a lot more, but more blightbeasts didn't make dealing with them particularly different.

From his relative vantage from the top of the bear, Galahad brought his halberd down and around him in broad, sweeping strokes, expertly twisting the haft of his weapon around his torso as his heavy blade made short work of any beast it made contact with. One of the wolf shaped beasts leaped at him to tackle him off the bear corpse, its jaws latching onto the Wyrmfang only for Galahad to spin and flourish and throw the beast off.

"Why is it, Cid," Galahad called over the din of fighting, "That whenever we come across you, at least someone is fighting for their life?" Admittedly, Galahad was half joking, but he was, by that turn of phrase, half serious. "Blightbeasts hate you, the Grovemasters apparently aren't fond of you either- maybe Drana Asnaeu isn't the place to be?"

To be fair, that same statement also applied to them at the moment, and Galahad wasn't expecting a response either. His eyes scanned upwards as he saw Ramuh gather lightning to call down another bolt towards a pack of blightbeasts. Leaping into the air, Galahad swung his weapon as he felt, rather than saw the bolt of lightning crack past him, an arcing trail catching the glinting blade of his halberd as the rest of the bolt crashed down on a pack of beasts. The dragoon grimaced and grunted as he felt residual electricity dissipate across the blue scales of his armor- thank Etro his first dragon kill was a lightning dragon.

Galahad landed in the midst of the pack of blightbeasts scattered by the bolt, his own weapon crackling blue. The Wyrmfang's blade and spearpoint had gathered enough electricity that it looked like he was practically wielding a blade made of it. It wouldn't last forever, but his next swing would deliver Ramuh's bolt directly into the next beast he struck. Leaping back into the air, Galahad brought his weapon back, his eyes quickly scanning the clearing, seeking out a suitable target to deliver Ramuh's 'blessing' to.

---

"Oh, what a bother," Esben muttered as the party dove into the fray with the beasts. Not just for the same reason he always wanted to complain when running into them—his focus as a duelist was already plenty obvious to the rest—but for the overall interruption of it. Between running through various options in his head that they'd have once they reached Brightlam and trying to mentally map out just where they'd managed to find themselves, he needed all the concentration he could muster.

Which, in the face of another Eidolon, ravenous beasts, and Cid's reappearance, was not nearly enough. At least the latter would help make some of his planning easier. "Eos, Selene, you can come out." The pair of fairies peeked out from the edges of his cloak, that he still wore despite the humidity and heat just to keep the rest of his clothes from getting torn to shreds in the forest, before flying out around him.

He was almost certain he could hear Eos breathe out a long, slow "Wow..."

As they took in the sight, he fell back towards the rear of the group where he could more easily overlook the course of the battle. "Keep an eye out in case they hit anybody," he ordered Eos, snapping her out of her momentary reverie staring up at Ramuh. "We don't need any casualties, nor do I want to deal with any of them being plagued by the Blight themselves. Selene, speed them up if you would."

"On it!" The purple-glowing fairy sped away in a heartbeat, casting her light over the gathered Kirins just as she had when they fought with Isolde and her knights. Not that Esben imagined any of them really needed the help with Blight beasts...but it should make the tiresome part go by faster.

---

At the sight of Cid and blightbeasts, Éliane didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She was truly getting sick of the old man, no matter how helpful he had tried to be. Everywhere he went it seemed trouble was following him. Éliane was fine with that to an extent—it was a good excuse for the thrill of combat and to keep herself and the rest of the team on their toes and their blades honed… but not when it came bringing leviathans, titans, and enemies that required literal armies and heavy weapons to even contest.

In that way, seeing Cid being beset by blightbeasts was actually a breath of fresh air. Cid hassled brought some petty schadenfreude, and she could shoot and stab malignant fauna all day. The only worry was the giant sage, but he only seemed hostile towards the monsters for now.

“Esben, isn’t this fun?” She commented with some mirth, chuckling as she watched Cid shake off one of the creatures before she surged forward.

Unsheathing her gunblade, she sprung into action, but she held herself back slightly, allowing the newest member of the party to overtake her. Éliane wanted to know what Chisato was capable of.

Shooting into the densest part of the pack, she whistled as the small ninja blew up some of the beasts. “I like your style, kid!” Cackling, and not to be outdone, she lobbed one of her own explosives towards another group of the monsters, watching with satisfaction as it exploded among the group, scattering them further.

If it happened to be close enough to Cid that it singed his clothes a little bit, it was purely accidental, not intentional at all.

Izayoi was a blur across the battlefield, her blade scything through Blightbeasts. Razor wind and battojutsu strikes littered the field before she grit her teeth, stopping in place as she was forced to raise her blade to block a massive canid Blightbeast's fangs. An errant bolt of light magic from Cid eliminated the great beast she was straining against, the samurai giving the sage a brief nod of thanks before diving back into the fray.

Soon enough, the efforts of the Kirins cleared the field of Blightbeasts, leaving sage and Eidolon in the middle of the sacred grove. At its center was a single stone, a lightning bolt engraved on the rock.

"My thanks." Cid exhaled, looking less winded from battle and more simply stressed in general. "Full glad am I to see you still live-"

"Isolde deceived us out of the belief you are some sort of heretic." Blightbeast blood was scarcely flicked off of Izayoi's blade as its owner stared Cid down, out of patience. "Explain."

"Ah." Cid winced. "Her observations are true. Her conclusion is not. My life is extended far beyond its natural limit, yes. This, however, does not make me an imposter or a demon. The grace of the Mother sustains me." A rueful smile. "Why else do you believe that I cannot leave holy ground? Honestly, I expected better of that child."

Izayoi simply nodded at this, accepting the explanation. Above everyone, however, Ramuh chose this moment to speak.

"The Dominant speaks truly."

The Eidolon of Thunder's voice rumbled.

"No unholy mischief is involved with extending his life past its limit. Only Etro's blessing."

His gaze swept over the Kirins for several moments before turning back to Cid.

"I should like to test their worth."

"Do try not to overdo it." Cid sighed, walking off to the edge of the clearing where he proceeded to sit. "Warriors, fear not. Ramuh will not kill you. And I will heal your ills once the battle ends. Who knows? Impress him enough, and he may just reward you." A significant glance was sent Esben's way.

"Indeed."

Ramuh remained where he was in the air as lightning crashed into the clearing. When the flash cleared, a different figure could be seen on the ground: a mighty, draconic being clad in steel roared, two stories tall, lightning crackling across its figure.

"You face mine attendant: Adrammelech, the Wroth."

At Adrammelech's cry, Thundagas began to litter the field, bolts of judgment crashing down without rhyme or reason.

"Show us whether you have the strength to save this land, Warriors of Light!"

Okay, beasties defeated, and she'd done it with a minimum of magic usage on her end – you never knew when there might be some extra threat, and blighted or not… an animal was still an animal. It was the sort of thing that she had grown up being taught to deal with, even if using a sword for it still had some flashes of novelty.

…

"Oh, c-come on!" She hadn't even said anything and still they were fighting another giant reptilian monstrosity! And this one was throwing out lightning everywhere. Of all the… she liked using it sometimes because it was hard to dodge, but that was exactly what made this such a pain. Especially when everyone had bits of metal on them, which wasn't going to help. Fine, fine…

How nice of Leviathan to give her so much immediate hands-on practice with protecting against lightning. Oh, she had been focused on making it as strong and focused as possible, there, but the manipulation and casting was just a different application of the same thing. Concentrate, concentrate, and… ah, there it was, the faint light settling into her skin with an odd, slick feeling. Was it like that for everyone? Maybe she should ask one day. "Th-That should help. Still, try not to g-g-get hit…"

The hand of misfortune struck heavy and with relish, Miina's well-intentioned but all too faint warnings dashed to pieces by the hammer of high heaven about Rudolf's ears, the errant Thundaga as loud as any cannon that had ever drawn a rose's hue onto Eliane's cheeks. His ears rang, and the stench of ozone and smoke filled his lungs— but her protection had overlayed onto his form just in the nick of time and no sooner. Taking the cloven-hooved titan's heralding fulmination right to the damn dome had hurt for certain, but proven survivable— his fingers flexed when asked, and his breathing hadn't gone erratic even with Selene's Swiftness embossing his movement.

Good, all good. That said, though, the undirected strikes of lightning were hard to predict even with that haste applied— and he couldn't get around the sense that it wasn't quite so effective as it had once been. He'd been grappling with that inkling feeling all through the moments were the Kirins had torn through the blightbeasts like scythes through wheat, but it didn't stand to reason that the purple fairy's boon had somehow been weakened, so much as—

Another thread of lightning crashed against his back, the third in nowhere near as many seconds. It obliterated the idle thought before it could really complete, leaving again the strange impression that maybe he wasn't taking to outsourced haste quite so well as he used to. That being the case, it had proven again that he couldn't quite rely on dodging, given that these were the incidental threads of contact. A long blade of steel upon his back, and a yawning chasm where he had once held at least meager fortune— between them, lightning seemed to quite readily strike twice, and then some. His mind raced... and found itself taking a very different tack than the suggestion he'd been too momentarily deafened to hear.

I have an idea. You might not like it.¹

There was the disembodied sensation of a nonplussed blink. Evidently, somebody in this equation wasn't used to being on the receiving end of that sentiment.

Huh?

"I've got the front," he called, swallowing a lump of fear in his throat even as his hands rose to grip the pommel of the tall, smoking greatsword at his back. He stepped forward, a deep puff of air loosing as he exhaled, trying to purge that sensation of clammy palms and pale complexion from his body. They were just all the lightning, he told himself, that was the only reason his hair was going wild, and the hammering heart was just the haste at work. Sword drawn, the young man set off at the head of the group, breaking into a charge. The alternative, he dimly realized, was probably completely locking up. It had been this way for so long he had almost forgotten how to recognize it— that the ideas he verbalized were probably more for his benefit than any one of theirs. "I'll do what I can to draw the lion's share of the heat onto me! You guys encircle him, attack from the flanks! We faced down Leviathan— just one attendant's in reach if we play this right!"

His guard was high, an exaggerated Vom Tag. Lightning liked three things most of any: high places, metal, and Ithar's blacklisted. While Adrammelech's direct attacks wouldn't be rerouted, even pulling the errant, incidental sparks away from his comrades would give them a lot more breathing room atop the Barthunder² that coated them all.

Hold on, what happened to smartly approaching your problems? Your first thought is turning yourself into a lightning rod. Even with the Nulshock, you're playing a dangerous game to maximize the hits you take. You saw what happened to your blonde friend last time lightning was allowed a free point of entry.

This is smart, Rudolf countered, letting his will flood the six-foot empty vessel above even as another bolt careened into it, running down the length of steel before crackling at the edges of the arcane barrier around him. They were right, of course— each shot still felt like getting brained with a sledgehammer, to put it mildly, to the point where it felt a shame that his armament might not retain the charge afterward. Even if the Eidolon's mighty servant almost certainly held immunity to the element it commanded. But all the same, Etro had afforded him at least one rare blessing at birth: a really hard head. We're buying openings! Listen, just worry about keeping the fire burning and whatever you can do to shield my heart and my brain!³

I can't guarantee anything, but you dying means me dying. I'll try and figure something out. This is what Arton, and that materia you chucked him, are for.

Not happening! You've seen the state he's in same as me— and with him out of the fight, I'm the next most robust person we've got. I don't like it either, you know that damn well!

With the fae boon still upon him, it was a simple matter to close the distance between him and his quarry— now came the hard part. He whipped the blade around into an uncharacteristically weighty slash to Adrammelech's right leg, attacking the joint of the knee with the physical force he could pull out of the empowerment— and letting the high-spiraling tornado of blackflame in its wake ravage the titan's torso as it climbed. He would need to get close to contribute meaningfully to the battle anyway, and with him not being terribly confident that his speed was completely up to snuff compared to before and them down their usual bulwark... pivots needed making.

There was a great crash as steel met steel, and he craned his neck to lock eyes with the thunder elemental. He hid the nerves behind a grimace, he hid his grimace behind a growl— Izayoi's master had been bad enough already to stare down. The ram of thunder was easily three times as tall. Basically the size of a house, and actively crackling with the power it held that made your every hair stand on end, made your instincts scream at you to run away and not draw this thing's attention.

And Rudolf had to make himself the most pressing target on the board, so his teammates could swarm him and take him down, or at least prove they stood a fighting chance against him. He summoned the image of his brother from within the recesses of his mind. The broad back he always chased. That man was so like those brief glimpses of Arton he'd seen before the Blight infection had truly metastasized; even if faced with a primordial like Ramuh himself, or Leviathan before, he wouldn't falter. He would meet this challenge, even if the very storms their Midgar blood knew to above all else respect were the hurdle he had to overcome.

Of that, the young swordsman was sure.

"You're in our way, goat!"⁴ he roared, bringing the length of the greatsword back across his field of view a moment later, another line of ink⁵ drawn upon the arc he cut through the air, a spray of onyx flame spreading towards Adrammelech's head, his eyes, high above. Hopefully, the smell of ozone and singed flesh would mask the scent of deceit— the constant hammering of Dhinas's smiting judgement all around him cloaking the same of his pulse. "We've got places to be!"

Those opening moments were precious for setting the tone of a fight. Even with seven of them versus one of the wrathful thunder spirit, he prayed that he had at least extended the first stanza by enough for everyone to reposition well enough to bring their full ability down onto their foe— while they were still warm from the fight with the Blightbeasts, maintaining tempo was crucial. that was the lone upside to having this test dropped into their lap with neither warning nor processing time, to the point where he wasn't even sure if he'd had a moment to internalize any of what Cid and Ramuh had revealed of the former's particular, strange existence. He didn't know what he thought of that, or how he weighed it against the Grovemasters issue, or how it played into his running tally of everything that had happened in this forsaken jungle. He'd not had the time to think.

And that was likely what pushed him here, to trying to buy Izayoi, Galahad, Esben some time to come up with an actual strategy beyond this opening. If he had known this was what he'd be facing, had time to sit with it, would he have made the same choices? Would he have swam, or sank?

Wasn't that what it always was? Sink or swim, with no time to see what was coming until it arrived? They hadn't expected Leviathan to turn out this way, either. Nor their ride here, nor their expedition into the desert. It was always this. Think fast, nimrods! The scariest shit you've ever seen is right on top of you!

If you stop to realize that, you're already dead. That's the lesson.

So the test then was... were they ready to keep having to ask "how high" when the world they wanted to save told them to jump? No matter when, no matter where?

For his part, Rudolf hated every second of it. He wanted a damned break, he felt like he'd proven all this twice over.

...And that probably meant he was in for the long haul.

---

---

• _{1. Huh?}
• _{2. Nulshock. In civilized tongues with real, respectable understandings of magic, it's called Nulshock, not Barthunder. I thought this vessel of mine was the educated one.}
• _{3. At this point, my mind is racing as quick as it can to try and turn my aether currents around to put some passable buffer between those two (in fairness, most immediately vital) organs and whatever electric rolloff makes it past the ward his mage has so kindly bestowed onto him, likely knowing the type of nincompoop she was tagging along with beneath his facade of pursuing most effective tactic available. It's obvious to me that this 'all or nothing' approach is the idea he's latching onto as a response for the need to act immediately— a plan that he can put into action before he terror spirals. One of these days he'll realize that this is what he's been doing the whole time, but that's a discussion for moments where I'm not about to learn if I can use the expression of my presence to reroute the path lightning takes as it tries to ground itself. This is a bit more complicated than simply digging a channel through the side of a riverbank, Rudolf.}
• _{4. Obviously the genuine article is more draconic, but those ancient scribes and artists that most of the continent's religious iconography stemmed from probably had a hard time getting their heads around depicting that— and went with a ram's head because they felt some connection to the astrological Capricorn was poignant, or because that was the closest thing they could think of that they had seen that had horns. You'd be appalled to learn how much of your understanding of history and myth is just heavily mangled guesses made by sheltered idiots.}
• <sub>5. I burn more luck, he gets more flame, the lightning and the lizard man get more inclination to strike him twice, thrice, and so on, instead of his pals. Everyone wins! This is some ruthless calculus at play, even if it works. I'd be over the moon with it, of course, if my continued existence weren't tied to the idea that this team can outpace the punishment we're inviting onto ourselves. The principle of taking a clear cause-and-effect chain that's dumpstering you from most reasonable outlooks and bending it over your knee until you pull some kind of advantage from it is what I'm all about. These systems are made to be tamed. It's fun viewing when somebody clues into that.
  
  I just don't appreciate having my essence tied to the margins being played. It's little wonder I keep being compelled to chime in.</sub>

---

The beasts were wrapped up in short order- an expected outcome, honestly. Especially with an Eidolon in the mix, it was really only a matter of time before the beasts were routed from this apparently holy place. The holy land of Ramuh was apparently rather simple, a grove with a clearing, with naught adorning it but a single stone in the center. Ascetic, perhaps. Izayoi was quick to grill Cid about what had happened and his true nature, his answers to which were... sensible enough, if somewhat annoying.

"I think it would've been quite a bit more convenient for us if you had told the Grovemasters about your extended lifespan- maybe a few decades earlier. Galahad remarked, but left well enough alone. Further discussion with Cid about what to do going forward might've have been the next logical step, but they were interrupted by the Eidolon of lightning, Ramuh himself. He vouched for Cid's truthfulness, which Galahad in particular didn't really question, what Galahad didn't- though perhaps should have expected was Ramuh's desire to test their mettle and worthiness.

"I don't suppose we have a say in this." Galahad remarked, even as the steelclad dragon arrived with a crash of lightning and thunder. "I suppose not."

Galahad rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, even as thundagas began to strike the battlefield at random. Well, at least this one looked like a dragon. That was something he was much more comfortable fighting. He glanced at his hands as he felt Miina's spell sink into them, he supposed the feeling he felt was 'insulated'. His dragoon armor was already faintly lightning resistant- but with Miina's spell as well, he felt fairly well protected from electricity. Rudolf rushed past them, engaging the foe from the front, leaving the flanks open for the rest of them.

They were as protected as they could be from electricity, and had a warrior holding the front for them. Now it was on the rest of the party to start dealing some damage. "Now! Hit it from the flanks!" he shouted. "Look for breaks in the armor- aim for vitals, neck, or limbs to cripple it!"

With a short sprint as a lead up, Galahad leaped into the air, his halberd flashing in the daylight as he spun it in his hand. Fighting dragons was literally what he was trained to do. He carried such a front heavy halberd for exactly foes like this. As he twisted in the air, Galahad found his first target- the joint where the wing met the back- and dove for it. His halberd flashed as he brought it down with as much strength as he could muster. Even if he couldn't sever the wing, if he could injure it enough, the creature would be effectively grounded.

---

"Esben, isn't this fun?"

She didn't wait or even look back to see the icy stare that was all the reply Esben had to give. Luckily, they solved the issue of the beasts without him really having to take part at all beyond directing Selene and Eos around—only for another test to come their way. Cid's glance went ignored as Adrammelech landed in the center of the clearing, roaring challenge at the Kirins. He jumped back, avoiding a bolt of lightning that blasted into the earth where he'd just been standing. Eos fluttered back near him, though Selene continued to hover around the entire group, flitting back and forth to avoid the electricity crashing around.

"Everybody fall ba—"

Rudolf charged forwards. No chance to even try and come up with a plan before having to account for the others taking matters into their own hands. One of these days they would all have to try and outline it all before the fights began, rather than trusting on each other to just instantly adapt to everything. Galahad followed suit, issuing his own command. All well and good for a dragoon, basic guidance but still correct.

Not exactly what they should all do today.

"Éliane, Chisato, each of you pick a side and harry it," he commanded. "Don't let it rip Rudolf to shreds—interrupt it while he keeps its attention, and help him keep it off of Galahad. Izayoi, help Galahad or Rudolf as the need arises. Miina, we're holding back for now, keep the spell up as long as you can. Eos, stick to Rudolf until I say otherwise—don't let him cook himself."

The green fairy sped off as he backpedaled, sword loose in one hand with his buckler raised between himself and the Eidolon's servant. It wouldn't provide much against any lightning, but should it try to swipe at him with its claws it could easily prove the difference between life and death.

Irritable as it made him, mapping out the forest in his head would have to wait; first he'd have to hope the others would at least be willing to listen to what he said, rather than crashing about like wolf puppies on their first hunt.

---

Truthfully, is this necessary?

The scent of the air burning and the ringing echo in my ears, the tingling flowing across my skin from the narrow miss of the lightning strike---

I'd only just managed to dodge.

Is it truly necessary to give us such a test?

Really?

I press my lips together as my feet hit the ground, adjusting my grip on my katana as my eyes fix on the next opponent. Large. Armored. It looks like steel.

It'll be difficult to strike anything vital with such a big target. My supplies---

I can't get that right now, and it would be far too difficult to set it up in time to take a shot.

---The Edren men are taking initiative at least. I suppose I can't complain about that.

I suck in a deep breath. My best chance at doing any sort of harm, even minor, is to aim for any of the gaps in the armor, or if I can pinpoint them the eyes. Blinding the enemy and injuring them at the same time would be one of the best ways to open them up for further damage, but they're hardly an easy target.

---Mathiassen-san has the right idea. I'd been coming to a similar conclusion myself already.

We'll approach from multiple angles, keep his focus from centering on any one of us, and wear him down so that greater damage can be done to end this unnecessary fight all the more swiftly.

I lean forward, my free hand reaching into my bag---

And the green world blurs as I move. My kunai may or may not slip through the gaps, but the mere possibility of them doing so would at least draw some attention.

With a flick of my wrist I release one, then two, then three, their black points piercing the air as they hurtle towards the draconic monster.

The fourth, however---

Sagramore is too close for me to use one of the bombs, but that doesn't mean I can't do something like this.

Heat flows from my fingers and over the edge of the black blade. Build it. Build it. Build it. Build it. Until the edge is white hot, until the air is sizzling, until that heat has become compressed into a miniaturized firestorm within my kunai.

---And release.

It hurtles towards the armored monster's flank, promising to release a concentrated burst of flame on impact! Even if it doesn't do much damage, the impact can't just be ignored!

---

This level of magic theory, the stuff that dealt with how life and succor was sustained by the world itself was beyond Éliane. She trusted the others to verify Cid’s words, not entirely trusting the Eidolon of Thunder, but seeing that her companions were satisfied with his explanation, she was.

She still thought that Cid was a right bastard by error of omission though and would hold a grudge for a while.
The others might have not been too enthusiastic, but after the mess that was Leviathan, Éliane could get into a true –lower stakes—trial against Ramuh’s attendant.

With a flash and a jump her weapon glinted dramatically as she quickly dodged the opening bolts of lightning, giving Miina an unseen wry smile that quickly turned eager as she fired back. Her gunblade barked throatily as she drifted towards the flanks of the creature, her battlefield experience already guiding her before the others’ words.

Éliane’s gunblade clacked as she reloaded, slamming a fresh barrage in to add to the others’ volleys to keep Rudolf in the fight.

“Charging in was my move,” she commented idly.

"This reward of Ramuh's had best be worth it!" Izayoi snarled as she leapt between Thundagas, any residual sparks harmlessly dissipating across the NulShock that Miina had so helpfully given the group. "Why would a trial be necessary when we are Cid's only choice?!" She groused, making sure to yell loudly enough above the din of battle that Ramuh could hear her.

Nevertheless, she followed Esben's command, moving to support Rudolf. Izayoi had to admit it: Esben was her superior in battlefield tactics. While she had a head for grand strategy and troop movements, most of her own movements in the field had been to maneuver herself into as large of a concentration of enemies as possible before slaughtering them, leaving the remainder of the front to her subordinates. So she'd didn't mind listening to the Skaelan, considering he'd proven competent at matters thus far.

As Adrammelech roared in frustration watching the gnat before him not fall even as it roasted him, Galahad's halberd crashed down into his wing joint before Chisato's heat blade slammed into its side. One shot from Eliane's barrage caught the Wroth straight in the eye, causing the lesser Eidolon to howl and writhe even as it conjured up another Thundaga to bring down around himself with Rudolf in the epicenter, hoping to catch several of the Kirins with him.

Just then, Izayoi leapt up into the air, catching the falling thunderbolt on her blade and redirecting it downwards into a falling slash right back towards the levin's original caster.

"Raijingeki!" She bellowed, dropping down and carving a gash straight through Adrammelech's metallic chest, leaving a clear opening to exploit. Ramuh's attendant howled further, but seemed to finally focus his rage, reaching up to grab Galahad off of his shoulder and hurl him straight into Izayoi, the halberd ripping out of the Eidolon's wing in the process. As both of them tumbled back, Adrammelech disappeared in a flash of lightning, reappearing directly above Miina with a baleful glare in his eyes. Unable to sustain flight thanks to the wound Galahad dealt, the summoned spirit proceeded to drop down from the air directly towards Miina, aiming to pin the Mystrel beneath its clawed feet.

Even as the beast hurtled down from the sky, he raised both index fingers, one aimed for Selene, the other for Eos. Individual bolts of lightning shot out from the tips of his claws, clearly trying to take the fairies out of the fight before they could cause yet more annoyances for himself.

As the battle raged on, Ramuh observed from the skies, stroking his beard in contemplation.

And with everyone else throwing attacks at Adrammelech, of course it went for her. How dare she be bold enough to stop everyone from getting electrocuted! Didn't it know how annoying it was to heal internal burns? Miina did; practising trying to control lightning always had its downsides.

She'd still need to go heal Rudolf anyway, because he'd just… thrown himself into it. Maybe she shouldn't heal him too much so he might actually sit out a fight and stop going after more aggravated injuries? Not the time, Miina.

Maybe she could've dodged. Maybe. Part of her screamed to dodge towards the thing-that-was-not-a-goat, but what was "towards" when it was bearing down on you? Instead, she did the only sensible thing as a panicked response and resorted to her favourite element, perfect for staving off tropical midday heat: ice. Specifically, enough ice to huddle down beneath a nice, Esben-sized spike of chilly, pointy nastiness. It was neat what you could do in a hurry when you didn't care about it moving, or lasting, or really anything beyond having a big old block of whatever element on hand for a little bit.

…

She really hoped it wouldn't crash right through and smash her. Or just hammer away while she was stuck, it was really not comfortable being almost-encased.

A familiar sensation washed over him from somewhere behind, that of waking up to a warm breeze in the midst of a summer's dawn— his accumulating ails sliding away as they came, taking things somewhere that felt more or less sustainable. He caught the minty green glow casting itself softly onto his drawn steel before he whipped up another surge of profaned fire—

"Shit—"¹

He'd barely begun to brace himself for the impact of the Wroth's true power hammering down onto him. Even in the barest instants of it all, this Thundaga was clearly a level far removed from the errant fulmination that had been drawn his way by chance and conceit. He had readied himself to put that hasty, instinctual bet of his to the test—

And then, as though a bolt from the blue herself, Izayoi had appeared high above, catching the falling hammer on her blade and adding its strength to her own, rending straight through the steel that cloaked Adrammelech's essence. To draw and counter the storm itself... He had only just written that idea off as foolhardy, bordering on impossible, if he tried it. He'd found about four reasons in as many seconds why... yet there it was. The sight of his doubts being so simply, almost pointedly shattered would surely stick with him for the rest of his days.

Adrammelech roared in fury, snapping the entrenched young man out of his awe as he tried to take advantage of the sudden gap that had been torn into his armor, his greatsword whipping around at speed to cast another projected wave of fire forth even as the spirit cast both dragoon and samurai into one another and sent the pair flying— and then with a clap of thunder, disappearing altogether.

"Izayoi, Gala—"

No time. Your sustain is in danger. He's above, and looking at your healing!²

It was a damned good thing Selene's speed was still upon them all. To his credit, Rudolf snapped to, immediately pivoting and reacquiring the two story thunderhead into his vision once more. Not an instant too soon, either— the last moments of Adrammelech's gaze sweeping over where he and his attaché stood were all he got to herald the lifted fingertip and thin arrow of lightning that burst forth, trajectory terminating a few feet past his left shoulder. Just enough to react with first impulse, and no more.

Story of his life.³

"EOS, HIT THE DECK!" he roared, wrenching himself to the side and reaching out, trying to add at least one more layer of defensive insulation to the tiny green firefly than just a warning— interception by way of sword, arm, or body was a damned sight better than one of their two healers going down in a fight like this—

As for the other...

For the moment, she had gotten a layer of frosty stalagmite between herself and the falling spirit, but he needed to recapture full attention as soon as he could. The distance wasn't all that far— maybe if he could cut it off—

The bolt struck him in the shoulder, and his jaw clamped shut, teeth gritting at he let the wards eat most of the burn and instead cast a souring curtain of fire a few feet above the razor tip of the icy punji spike— depending on timing, he could either obscure it just before the moment of impact and buy Miina a second of broken visuals to get out of dodge, or follow up the collision with a heavy, lingering cowl of the stuff while Adrammelech was still occupied with the six feet of ice that he'd suddenly dropped into.

---

---

• _{1. It was only ever psyching himself up to go out there. The thing about putting on a brave face is that, at some point, it always comes back off. But this is the path we chose.}
• _{2. All things being equal, even he has to admit that it's a damned good thing that I, in moments like these, can now communicate much more effectively than just pointing danger sense in a barely-specific direction and letting his body figure things out from there. Being eyes in the back of somebody's head is a lot easier when you're allowed to get the interpretation of the stimuli part done instead of waiting for them to hopefully guess right at your meaning.}
• _{3. Prior to voicing any complaints, please refer again to 1. That means you.}

---

Their combined strikes quickly wore away at Adrammelech; with odds of one against seven, that was an entirely foregone conclusion. A destroyed joint in a wing, a blinded eye, and still they chipped away at the rest. Izayoi turning the lesser eidolon's own attack back against him was an unexpected turn, but with the deep, blackened gash rent straight through Adrammelech's armour revealing softer flesh beneath, Esben wasn't going to complain about the surprise. He just had to come up with the best way for them to exploit it—

He blinked as Adrammelech did. Without a thought he dashed forward, his blade whipping out of its scabbard to intercept the bolt of lightning that was flying for Selene, his muscles convulsing for a moment as the energy blasted through him and into the ground. He slid to a stop, confident that both of his fairies had escaped retribution for the moment—indeed, Eos was already working to try and keep Rudolf from getting literally cooked by the electricity that had been coursing through his body repeatedly—and looked to the flames that were now interposed between Miina, her spike, and the falling spirit.

If that would occupy it...

"Galahad, get behind his head and yank it back! I don't care if you grab his horns or bridle him with your halberd, just get it done!" he shouted. Forcing head and shoulders back would only serve to open him up further. "Izayoi, you and I are wrestling one arm, Rudolf has the other! Chisato, Éliane, as soon as we've got him open concentrate fire on that hole in his chest!"

If he was a bit closer, he would've tried to run and get Miina out from under the spike and the black flame before the draconic being crashed into it, but running to save Selene put him just out of reach. Ideally she could capitalize on it to get out on her own; if not, she'd be in the perfect position to fire off into Adrammelech's chest herself, so he wasn't too worried about how she'd factor into this next attack. Assuming she wasn't entirely crushed, although given what Cid had told them about not getting killed and their hurts being healed after, that didn't seem too great a worry.

Instead, he rushed for the hand that he and Izayoi were the closest to, reaching out to pin it with his sword and force the spirit's arm back to forcibly expose the gash in his chest.

---

"Of course the flying metal dragon can also teleport." Galahad grumbled as he picked himself up off the ground. He had just enough time to steady himself as Esben sprinted by- barking commands. They made logical sense- the Adrammelech's armor was tough- but the explosive power of Elaine and Chisato's attacks had a chance of breaking through, if only they had an opening. So, an opening would be provided. Now that its wing was crippled, the dragon was stuck on the ground- so next was to cripple its mobility, arms and neck.

In a few short strides, and Galahad's calculations were complete. Ground cracked and sundered beneath his feet as he pushed himself off the earth and back into the air, leaping at 60 degree angle instead of straight up. He careened towards the Adrammelech like one of Eliane's bullets- if it was slower, and larger- the sharp angles of his armor cutting through the air as he jumped just past the Adrammelech's head. He spun midair, swinging his halberd with both hands as if he were trying to fell a tree with a woodaxe. This would probably end up hurting him more than the dragon- but that was not the main point of this swing. The axe head purposely flew past the Adrammelech's open maw, the steel of his haft catching in its jaw as Galahad climbed onto its head and pulled back on his halberd like a bit.

Using the Adrammelech's head like a surface, Galahad grit his teeth and pulled back with all his might, trying to rear the dragon's head all the way back, throwing his weight into it- for all it would do against such a large creature. He didn't need to snap its neck, just keep it back long enough for the others to land a strike. Thankfully his armor and Miina's protections combined would deaden at least some retaliatory lightning, should it be directed his way.

---

“Really could be worse!” was Éliane’s simple quip to both Izayoi and Galahad. Of course she still disagreed with the circumstance—and the metal dragon being able to teleport was indeed a high degree of bullshit. At least it was the kind of bullshit that the pink-haired woman to roll with.

The others in the party that were faster than her were already moving into position to intercept the creature before it could bring its full might to bear against a very hapless Miina. Between Rudolf, Esben and the faeries, they were managing Adrammelech… and lining it up for Éliane to exploit the opening they had created for her.

She had been skirting closer to the action up until now, but as she finished pounding it in the chest with one last round, with a dash hop, and a jump, she closed in, lobbing a pair of explosives at the large gash in its chest. “Watch out. Bombs away!” she announced, already underway in getting somewhere safer. Éliane was getting somewhat better at announcing her explosive tendencies.

It worked.

Not cleanly, but our efforts haven't been in vain. The monster's armor has cracked. A gap has been opened. Not a perfect gap, but a gap nonetheless through which we can strike.

It is that which I center on immediately. The shouted order from Mathiassen-san is only a confirmation of the course of action I must take.

From here, it won't be easy to reach it with my blade. Certainly, it may not be impossible, but to rely on such a chance would be foolish. And my kunai simply won't do enough damage to secure victory as swiftly as possible.

Therefore, there is truthfully only one option left.

I skid backwards across the ground as I put distance between myself and our foe, my left hand reaching into the pouch on my hip. I have the space now, and a clear target.

All I have to do is aim and throw.

The black shape of the explosive is exposed to the air for only a moment, magical energy surging, directed by my materia to set the wick ablaze.

I step back and raise my arm back. My heart stills.

I can't miss this shot, after all.

I hurl the bomb towards my target, and---

Izayoi gasped for breath as an armored dragoon was hurled at her, barely managing to catch Galahad before the impact sent both of them tumbling. She rose with a grumble, barely managing to nod in return to Esben before surging forward to follow his plan. No time or breath available to waste on a verbal confirmation.

As Esben moved to pin one of Adrammelech's arms down, Izayoi joined him as was bid, though taking it a step further. Taking inspiration from Galahad, she leapt up, landing on the Capricorn's forearm before jumping again, landing on the lesser Eidolon's shoulder and plunging her blade into it. Howling in rage and pain as he crashed straight into Miina's ice block while having his arms and head restrained, Adrammelech was easy meat for the assault that followed.

A collection of bombs from two sources hurled into the gash left in Adrammelech's chest, and his howls were amplified as they detonated, the combined explosion knocking away everyone who had been grappling onto him. When the dust cleared, the Eidolon was an utter mess: chest ruined, limbs punctured, and an icicle still sticking out of its gut. Adrammelech strugged to rise, only to falter as Ramuh's voice rang out across the clearing once more.

"That will do. I have seen enough. Warriors of Light, victory is yours. Revel in it."

Ramuh descended from his skyward perch, one hand stroking his beard as the other continued to clutch his staff. Adrammelech bowed to his lord, his defeated form dissipating into the aether from whence it had came.

"And to the victor, the spoils."

A nod towards Esben.

"The mark of your contract, if you would, young man."

It would take a moment to realize Ramuh meant the same journal that held Selene and Eos's contract. Once it was produced, Ramuh raised his staff. A bolt of lightning descended upon an open page, leaving a small mark bearing the same symbol of levin that was etched upon the stone in the clearing.

"So that you may call upon me when your need is great. Be warned that the aether required to maintain mine summoning is no small matter. Use your best judgment when mine or any other Eidolon's aid will be necessary. I believe Leviathan may have more than words for you when next you should meet."

The sage spirit said, a twinkle in his eye.

"Well fought! Well fought, indeed!" Cid chose this moment to step forward, leaning upon his staff. "You have more than earned Ramuh's aid, though I would echo his warning regarding his summonings. Regardless, the hour grows late, and this clearing will be safe enough once Ramuh and I finish repairing the wards around this sacred site. Is there anything you would require of me aught you retire for the night?"

"Directions to Brightlam would be of use." Izayoi stated, sighing. "We have been blundering through the wood for some days now."

Cid blinked, his surprise evident.

"Brightlam? You're but two hours west of the city." He pointed towards what was presumably west, and certainly not the direction the Kirins had been planning on continuing in before this encounter had begun. To this, Izayoi could only groan in exasperation, palming her face.

---

“Alright, first things first:”

It was all but immediately after Adrammelech’s stricken form had faded away on motes of dispersed aether that Rudolf made his approach, barely allowing his hands enough time to slick the hair out out of his eyes once the arm he’d dutifully wrenched downward onto was no more.

“Izayoi, what the hell was that just now?”

His voice was rough. Eos and her healing winds dutifully swirled about him, and it seemed the tiny interplay between Cid and Izayoi had been as much reprieve as he was willing to take. In his head, the hotter the iron he struck the better— and there were few so molten as the image she had burned into his mind, in that fraction of a second.

If he had seen it, it could be done. If it could be done, there was a way to do it. Braindead simple as truisms went, granted, but unfathomable boons when reordering perspective and limits.

“You caught lightning. Right out of the sky.”

His sword had planted into the soft loam beneath the stormscarred grasses, offering an ample crutch to lean a little weight into while he stilled his breath.

For her part, Izayoi barely had time to catch her breath before the boy was verbally upon her. She blinked as Rudolf approached, tilting her head.

"Yes, and…?" Her tone indicated genuine surprise that Rudolf was confused. Considering just how long her master had spent drilling the technique into her head, often literally, she had figured it was far more vital of an arte than the boy was making it out to be.

"...Can you not?"

There was a beat, as his expression flattened. Opening his mouth, the deadpan timbre that trudged out of him proved the pages matched the cover.

“…No, obviously I can’t.”

She wasn’t bluffing, either, he realized— not that it was at all in her nature to be a churlish gadfly to begin with, but he still couldn’t help but feel extra stung by the idea that she sincerely thought he was strange for not knowing how to make light of Dhinas himself.

A slow exhale out the nose escaped, black mirth coiling somewhere in the back of his head where he couldn’t quite tell it to shut up.

“Materia is one thing, but to turn a bolt from the blue like that I thought impossible outside myth. Until two minutes ago.” he explained slowly, trying desperately to ignore the looming sensation of some punchline at his expense his imagination continued to forge. “I admit there are gaps in my training, big ones, but—“

His fingertips flew to his temple, rubbing for a moment before jerking back down. As piecemeal as his training in Sagramore Village evidently was, he’d apparently picked up the way they talked with their hands when they were starting to get just a tiny bit worked up. Fat lot of good that did. Clearly, they were about to revisit the tail end of that talk they’d been having the night Izayoi had busied herself in the Hien Faction compound’s kitchenettes. Even agile raptors always came home to roost.

“Alright, if you thought I could, you definitely leapt in like you couldn’t leave me to it. I owe you one, obviously, but is it really that common? Who else do you know that could even react in time, let alone pull off that… Raijingeki, I think it was?”

"Not common per se, but the technique is not unknown among skilled swordsmen, regardless of school. Most who know would simply channel the levinbolt while on the ground and let it dissipate into the earth. I was taught to expand upon that. If Lord Hien has kept up on his training, I believe he ought to be capable of doing so as well."

She very carefully did not say anything about the attack’s name. As much as Izayoi enjoyed screaming oaths for all the world to hear, that was a convention of her own making. Her master had never named a single technique he’d imparted upon her, and she’d simply…made them up as a much younger woman. In hindsight, some were perhaps too grandiose, but better to let everyone believe that was simply the way of things.

Izayoi studied Rudolf, considering for a moment. Actually, what was there to think about? Best he be taught, lest a stray bolt eliminate him from the field some day.

"Would you like to learn?" The question might as well not even have been one, for all the silent pressure Izayoi was exuding. Clearly, saying “no” wasn’t an option. At least, not one that would end well for Rudolf.

It was a lucky thing that he had already come to the same conclusion in the waning moments of their battle with the Capricorn— even bolstered by being of one mind with her, Rudolf had to internally note that this was likely as close as he’d ever gotten to feeling the pressure of standing across from the Ranbu with steel drawn.

In a way, not shrinking back from it was one of those small victories of progress that you only noticed after the fact. Changing your heart was a matter of inches and days.

“You won’t always be here to pull me out from under the hammer,” he affirmed, before glancing across the field to the rest of the Kirins, still dusting themselves off from the scuffle. Despite Chisato’s timely arrival to help buoy their ranks a bit… they were still running far thinner than in Osprey. “And I’m going to be putting myself in its path a lot more going forward. We’ve run low on people that can tie up space and attention, so I had better make sure I’ve got better plans for threats like those than ‘eat it and pray’.”

We never did find out quite how your redirection idea with me would turn out. Turning to the death-seeker for tips to live, then, sure— I hope you know what you’re doing.

He didn’t rise to it.

“Please do. Knowing it would be invaluable.”

And as well…

“I’d be kicking myself for not learning, anyway. The spectacle was really something from the ground.” he admitted sheepishly.

Izayoi resisted the urge to smirk at the last bit. Trust a young man’s urge for theatricality to override all else.

"Very well, then. Give me a moment, and we can begin."

___

Ten minutes later, Izayoi and Rudolf stood to the side of the clearing, the former having temporarily borrowed Galahad’s lightning materia for this task.

"We will begin with the basic technique: catching a bolt upon your blade and dispersing it into the ground. For many ‘talented swordsmen’, the technique ends here. I will be expecting more from you." She slotted the lightning materia into one of her kote, flexing the gauntlet briefly before nodding to herself.

“Naturally.”

He had known her barely an hour before witnessing how harsh a taskmaster she could be, after all.

"The technique itself is simple to conceive. And more difficult to execute in the heat of the moment. Channel aether through your blade, and ensure it flows from hilt to tip. Strictly in that direction, lest you wish to redirect levin back down into your hands." She waited patiently for Rudolf to familiarize himself with the concept before continuing on.

That was to say, the moment Rudolf could prove himself adept at regulating an aetheric flow in his blade, she began blasting him with low-powered Thunder spells in intervals.

"Raise your blade, boy!" Izayoi cried out after the first bolt, giving him only a moment’s breather before the second. "Catch the bolt upon your sword, and drive the flow of aether into the ground! Better yet, at me!"

To paint it in broad strokes, the act of channeling aether was already well-known to Rudolf, even before he had contracted off his ties to Ithar and most everything the Mothercrystal held. Any warrior worth their salt in Edren at least knew how to imbue one object with the spark of will and animus—

“!!”

That being the very same Izayoi now used to throw him right into the deep end of the theory: Materia. Fundamentally, it was the same act. The difference lied in the depth of intent; if he were to liken catalyzing materia to turning a key, then channeling aether like this was closer to clay upon a potter’s wheel. You had to actively guide it where you wanted it to go.

Determine the flow, as she said. It was highly dependent on your ability to visualize.

Gritting his teeth, he lifted his accursed blade, filling the voided steel as the lightning crashed in—

Ah yes! a certain someone crowed from inside him. I love “safe” and “effective” training! Hey, you know what you’re doing, right? This psychopath isn’t going to give you another option,

And for a key moment, his current was disjointed, the prevailing image of “catching” the bolt alive in his instincts and filling the gaps where his focus on pushing aether up had wavered.

He found his jaw locked as the bolts hit him, coaxing an even tighter squeeze on his hilt as the thunder burned the edges of his skin over.

“Drew it in by mistake,” he breathed, when motor control calmed down. “Like absorbing impact.”

A click of the tongue, noting and trying to rectify the mental failure. Whether she waited for him or not, he readied himself again in short order with a curt nod.

In hindsight, perhaps going straight to electrocuting Rudolf after they’d just fought an Eidolon specializing in the element was an ill-conceived idea. Perhaps it would have been more prudent to wait until they’d recovered from battle wounds. But Izayoi knew no other way. Rudolf had more of a breather from mortal combat to training than she’d been given.

So she allowed him the absolute privilege of five seconds in between casts of relatively weak Thunder spells.

"Be glad I am bothering to use only weakened incantations!" Izayoi barked after the next cast. "My own instruction afforded me no such luxury!"

“I can— tell!” he shot back, letting aether surge into the dead steel anew. This time he was a hair too slow, and realized another mistake: waiting on it, tensing, bracing. Tightness in the body and tightness in the mind, his two longtime nemeses in any facet of the battlefield arts, were dulling his reaction. And perhaps more importantly, the flow of aether had to force its way through all that. When Izayoi did it, she had leapt forth to meet it. “Guess that means we all got a lesson in Osprey!”

Hey. While you’re making small talk, let’s compartmentalize this before your nerves get angry again. I’ll pull some weight. Just focus on the catch and pitch.

Before Rudolf could raise a mental protest, he felt a channel in his soul open without his command, along the same leylines that had been burned in by blackflame seemingly dozens of times now.

Izayoi’s kote flashed again. Another breath, and a bolt would be thudding into him. Less, in actuality, but when he truly needed to time his focus, instead of coiling like a spring—

He kept his eyes open, and exhaled as the flash became a golden gleam of thunder. Catch and pitch.

He moved. A steady font of aether flowed forth out of him, filling the sword as he brought it— and himself—into the lightning’s path. He had his terminology all wrong. He had to meet the bolt, not receive it.

There was a crash, and his eyes widened. In his hands, he could feel even the weakened spell thrumming along the trail his aether had blazed, a line of lightning as tall as he in his grasp, and—

Congrats. We got a little bolt, you did it. It’s gotta go somewhere. Before she fires another. She’s going to. the voice urged. His feet were returning to the earth; planting it where all lightning yearned to go would be a simple matter, quickly executed and intuitive as it got. It was easy to believe that many swordsmen who managed the initial feat stopped there—

But he had expectations to meet.

He swung downwards in her direction, in as unvarnished a strike as was ever thrown, and attempted to coax his aether further out than the tip of the gold-painted blade.

The strike was met by Izayoi’s own blade, a thin smile on its wielders face as she seemed impressed, despite herself.

"Two tries. Most impressive." Izayoi allowed, before the hand that wasn’t holding her sword flexed, the next bolt that came down electrocuting both of them.

When the dust cleared, Izayoi stayed standing, albeit with a slight twitch from residual electricity.

"Again. We’ll settle for being able to redirect a fully powered Thunder while delivering a competent strike, if possible. It isn’t as if I can coax a Thundara or Thundaga out of this materia, regardless."

The training continued in this vein for some time, Izayoi gradually increasing the power behind her Thunder casts until she was reasonably confident that Rudolf was growing proficient enough with redirecting them that he wouldn’t miss too many and result in serious injury.

This, of course, was slow going— progress came incrementally, with great expense, and every inch fought for, even with the second voice in his head greasing the gears. Rudolf’s heart hardly leapt at the praise, given such asterisks had been attached, but was left in a bind as Izayoi kept slowly ratcheting up the intensity. He wanted to properly wrest more control of the process back into his hands, now that they had widened the margins and he was getting used to the rhythm of it all, but his passenger wasn’t keen to budge on the matter.

And rightly so. A growing collection of mistakes, near misses, and immediate lessons was burned onto him as the hours dragged on, regardless of the directionality being more or less positive— the system they had developed was one that worked, and minimizing the accumulated damage fell to them when this was how he was trained. Even cast against someone like his father, Izayoi as an instructor was brutal in the simplicity of her method— he could all but see the silhouette of that beast that had trained her upon it.

It was clear that a single eve wasn’t going to be all it took to truly get it down, especially knowing they were still in the relatively weak realm of Thunder, and not higher magic. At some point, he thought to ask about these things. He had stopped counting the passing minutes for a good while by now, only really aware that the light had sunk low.

“Your master,” he grunted, catching a moment between casts and ignoring the stinging of the burns on his skin, how wild and frayed his hair had surely become. “You said he didn’t downgrade the incantations— was everything he taught like that? Throw you right into the fire?”

He had asked for this, so he wasn’t voicing a complaint— hard as it was, this was how she knew how to teach what he needed to learn. Rather, Rudolf found himself more just… curious. Looking for perspective. Better to sate that than dwell on his lingering dissatisfaction. Offloading crucial steps only got harder to ignore as he grew more and more taxed. Wasn’t so easy to argue against it at this point, but this only doubled the unearned feeling poisoning each success.

Another Thunder came crashing down on Rudolf.

"If you’ve breath to speak, you’ve breath left enough to raise your sword." Izayoi said flatly, echoing the very words her aforementioned master once told her. Gods, that had to have been…twenty years ago, now.

...Really, I’m in your head and I still have no clue what you were expecting besides that.

Nonetheless, when the dust cleared this time, Izayoi could be seen popping the Thunder materia out of her kote, handing it off to a passing-by Goug who proceeded to run it back to Galahad. Clearly, training was over for the day.

"...He was a man who lived only for the sword and his hunts. If it had naught to do with either, he had no interest. He forged the girl that was to be a killer on a whim, so I’m told. Naught but idle chance after he slaughtered a group of bandits unfortunate enough to be in his way one moonless night after they’d ambushed a merchant’s caravan."

With a grimace, Rudolf pulled the sword free from the earth as he coughed out his share of the dust cloud. Point made. Only now could he finally go slack… after a moment or two more of eyeing her, even after she had handed the materia away.

“Well, the first half sounds familiar enough.” he mused, “I can certainly say I’ve known my share of people that profess to love no more in the world than either of those.”

A whole village’s worth of them called as much their reasons for being. Had he not caught the glimpse of blonde when the reborn warrior’s helm had been split, Rudolf may have even floated the idea that this master of hers had once hailed from Sagramore. It’d have made for a pretty amusingly ironic reversal.

“But this goes beyond even them. Hell, I considered Istvan an uncompromising brute of a teacher, but he’s…much more meticulous.”

A long look at the greatsword, which had also borne witness to both in action, just as he did. Even moreso, as it had been given no reprieve from bearing the Thunder caught upon its blade.

“...A whim, on idle chance.” He raised a disbelieving eyebrow at the notion. Men of that cloth would tire of fostering the next generation without some more skin in the game. They’d get bored. “How long did this flight of fancy have a hold of him? Building any depth of skill like this takes whole seasons, let alone what could carry you to the heights you achieved.”

"I believe his decision was cemented when I did not plea with him to cease or relax his standards." Izayoi shrugged as she sat cross-legged on the grass, pulling a waterskin out and taking a quick swig before tossing it to Rudolf.

Hearing more to this coming, Rudolf accepted the waterskin with a grateful nod and silently took a drink of his own, letting her talk as she would.

"He motivated my younger self at first by promising I would have the strength to never again become victimized as my family and I were against the bandits that slew them. It was effective." A wry, bitter smirk crossed her face.

"And he was correct. I only lost as I had before when I abandoned his teachings. Cast my strength and my blade away." The mystrel reached for her sword, cracking an inch of steel out of the sheath to examine her reflection.

As she stared into the face she saw in the steel, Rudolf in turn found himself examining her reaction. He’d caught himself doing the same thing many times by now. He wondered how similarly they may have beheld those reflections cast, for all the differences between them. Bitterness. Regret. There was a lot that was familiar.

"Bafflingly enough, such a master of the katana wasn’t even Osprean. The man was eight feet tall, pale as snow, and blonde. My only reasonable assumption after fifteen years is that he was Skaelan. Possibly a renegade SEED, but Esben recalls no such master of the katana with his appearance."

“Hm.” he grunted after a moment’s thought and digestion, wiping his lips as he handed the pouch back over. “Well, it’s said in the village that every person has a swordsmanship that agrees with them and a sword that will find their arm. If we go with the Skaelan Mercenary angle, perhaps he picked it up while just moving from job to job, or as a trophy from an unlucky swordsman he met on the way.” he ventured, shrugging his shoulders as he went about the conjecture for conjecture’s sake.

He drew his knife from his hip, watching his own reflection appear and disappear in the moment between idle flips from blade, to hilt, to blade again. Working his dexterity after all the shocking, making sure everything was in order, keeping his hands busy while he mused— idiosyncratic, sure, but it felt fine. “Maybe he simply started making it up as he went along after getting ahold of a katana, just utilizing basic fundamental principles and a lot of battle experience to fill in the gaps. I hardly compare, of course, but that’s more or less what I’ve been getting up to when I’ve got to fight…. So far, at any rate.”

The blade caught. He looked tired, as always, in the steel. Liven up, Rudolf— You’re the greenhorn here.This much is what you’re supposed to handle.

He glanced back up, even as he laid his greatsword onto the ground before him, to inspect for damage he was certain he wouldn’t find. The baffling thing never cut, but it certainly hadn’t ever seemed too much worse for wear when he brought it out, either— even against the strikes of the Eidolons themselves.

“And you had your reasons for laying down the warrior’s life, I suppose.” he stated more than inquired. It’d feel presumptuous for someone like him to tell someone like her that she ‘shouldn’t blame herself’ or the like— that regrets weren’t worth having when she’d left herself unable to protect the people she loved most in all the world. ‘Well-meaning’ only ever counted for so much, when you confronted that pit through the middle of the soul. “More than a whim. At the very least, it seems to return to you quickly.”

"There is little need to calm me down, boy." Izayoi sighed tiredly, no real heat in her voice. "Go. Take your rest. We will resume this training the next time we have an opportunity."

You may just not speak her language at all.

“What, being a sappy nineteen year old isn’t enough?”

A wry chuckle, a colorless smirk. He’d hardly meant it as such, but… what else could you do?

Dusting himself off, he nonetheless turned, beginning to amble away to the other side of camp, where Eliane had parked herself for the many maintenances her arsenal demanded. He held one hand up, waving as he went off towards anything but the rest she rightly urged.

“...Nah. Wouldn’t dream of it. Thank you for the lessons, Izayoi.”