Chapter I

It had been roughly eighteen hours since Zephyr had disembarked from her seabound voyage, from her homeland to wherever she was now. A village, perhaps? It appeared as such, though like most she encountered, there was no sign of life. The Silhouettes– ghastly shades appearing as monsters, not unlike those that plagued mankind in ages before and since– saw fit to make most smaller cities close down. The ones that still stood, at least.

It had been an unknown many more hours since Zephyr had last slept, as well. She wasn’t even fully aware of where she was, or how she got there. This was typical for the woman, cloaked in a deep, navy blue hooded robe, closed completely and her hood raised over her head. In many of her cycles, seeking allies to defeat her eternal enemy, the scene before her was one she had seen countless times before. A village, abandoned or appearing as such, residents long since perished or fled to larger bastions, or at least hiding within the remnants, and Silhouettes left to run amok.

They posed little to no threat compared to Zephyr’s magic, though she hadn’t seen fit to take up arms at this time. The first unfamiliarity to Zephyr in this new part of the world; there were no Silhouettes in sight, at least as far as she could tell. There were, however, signs of combat, fairly fresh, and this trail of dust and ash was the one the wanderer would begin to follow.

Straight ahead lay the edge of a forest, beyond a bare stretch dotted with stumps that spoke to a nascent logging industry. The woods were unusually quiet. The logged field was dry and blazed in the sun, and the forest creatures had fled for the shade. Only wood-boring beetles remained to feast on the sawdust. They, too, were quiet today, perched motionless on the stumps as if watching for something.

The lonely howl of a wolf echoed from within the forest, breaking the silence. It was out of place in the middle of the day, unusual for there to be only one, unanswered. The entire forest seemed to twitch, as every creature and insect great and small flinched at once.

A shot rang out, a sharp period at the end of the wolf’s lament. 

More howls rose in protest of this challenge to their dominance of the soundscape, answered by three and then two shots in quick succession. A chorus of chaotic barks and yelps erupted from the forest, moving swiftly back toward the village. 

A woman on a chestnut horse burst from the woods, hunched low reloading a revolver that caught the sun just as she cleared the treeline. In her wake came a pack of black streaks, midnight spectres in the shape of wolves. Silhouettes.

The horse’s rider whirled around in the saddle, letting the momentum from her motion slam the cylinder of her revolver back into place. A white lance of light followed her bullet out of the muzzle, striking the closest Silhouette in the head. It gave out a strangled whimper and fell, rolling over and over in the dust and forcing its companions to swerve around it. Five shots followed, and five wolves fell, the woman’s aim immaculate in spite of her steed’s meandering path through the stumps.

One wolf remained, with her gun empty. It cared not for the deaths of its pack. It ran up alongside the horse, making a determined lunge for the rider’s leg.

The whip coiled on her belt was already in the rider’s hand. A white trail followed the path of her whip as well, leaving a luminous half-moon in the air as she cracked it against the back of the wolf’s neck. It fell under the horse, taking two strikes from its hooves before rolling away.

The horse circled around and drew up a few gallops away, and the rider dismounted. Though being trampled under a horse would have been fatal for any natural wolf, the Silhouette rose to its feet, troubled only by the glowing wound left by the whip. 

The woman approached slowly at first, gradually accelerating to a run as the Silhouette recovered. It opened its maw to snarl at her just as the whip cracked across its face again, followed by a quick upward swing to its throat. Without another sound, it dropped to the ground, and lay still. 

Zephyr watched the scene unfold before her. It was not entirely unusual to her; many times before had the mage wandered into one town or the next, watching someone capable of taking on a pack of Silhouettes. Some were met with showers of praise, others were given scant acknowledgement, and yet still some were feared outright. It was commonplace for Zephyr.

What was different this time, however, were several discrepancies that caught her eye. Weapons were entirely up to the warrior’s personal preference, ranging from legendary tools uncovered from one ruin or the next, down to the most common of swords. A whip and gun, however, were rarely seen on their own, let alone wielded in tandem. A new style of fighting was not something that could shock the wanderer, however.

But what caught Zephyr’s eye more than anything else, the one thing that brought Zephyr from her stupor, her almost trance-like traveling, was the element in play.

Zephyr had seen the common elements in all her travels. Fire, Water, Earth, Ice, Lightning, and Wind. But never in all her years had she seen, nor in the journals and letters handed down from mother to firstborn daughter, anyone wielding the power of Light. And it was this development, this discrepancy in the cycle that dictated her life that caused her to act now.

“Who… just who are you?”

The horse rider didn’t answer immediately, pausing to brush herself off and holster her revolver and whip. She wore a blue, buttoned shirt under a brown jacket, both with sleeves rolled up past her elbows. She patted her jacket pocket to check her remaining ammunition. Satisfied, she pushed her wide-brimmed hat off her head, shaking out dusty blonde hair. She looked at Zephyr with large cornflower eyes, the rest of her features a little small in comparison, giving her a searching face like a pair of binoculars. 

“Well, hello there, stranger. Sunny Goodnight, at your service,” she chirped, with a pantomime of doffing her hat.

The mage lowered her hood, long, black hair billowing out behind her cloak as two deep, almost wine-colored eyes stared back, almost in disbelief. She then shook her head, with a sigh, and responded. “I suppose I misspoke. To whom do you answer? Whose call?” Pausing for a moment, and finally composing herself, she clarified. “Which Esper is lending you the strength to fight?”

Her routine was slowly returning to her. She’d asked this question countless times in the past, though the answer was usually one of six. The asking was automatic to Zephyr, usually, but being awake and aware to ask it now felt almost alien to her.

Sunny blinked in surprise. “You ain’t from around here, are you? Not from Fortenburg, neither, by the look of you.” She shrugged, giving a good-natured smile. “Well, I ain’t in service to nobody. If there’s any call me and Tess here answer… justice, I guess? Or the wild? Or the road? Take your pick.” 

The wanderer tilted her head. Did this ‘Sunny’ really not hear the voice that granted her her power? It was impossible, Zephyr thought. “…The power to truly vanquish a Silhouette comes from the strength given to us by the Espers. You truly don’t know whose is yours, Miss Goodnight?”

The words caught a bit in Zephyr’s throat. She’d heard some odd names before, but this one stuck out in her mind. 

“Vanquish a…?” Sunny paused, struggling with the unusual word, but soon her eyes brightened with comprehension. “Oh! To kill the sillos. You mean this.”

She reached for a small pouch at her hip. Sunny only opened it partially, hands closed protectively around it as if afraid Zephyr might try to snatch it, but inside lay a small white crystal, glowing faintly with an otherworldly light.

“Is that what this doodad is called? An Esper?” 

Blinking a bit, but otherwise making no movements towards the crystal, her eyes focused on it. Her eyes widened a bit as she sensed the light emanating from both Sunny and her Esper. That Sunny wielded the Light, while a bit ironic, narrowed down what Zephyr had studied from her grandmother’s tomes. And while the facts before her now were undeniable, it was still hard to believe, given what little Zephyr knew of world events.

As if confirming what she saw, a familiar voice echoed through her mind, speaking but one name.

A L E X A N D E R

Zephyr shook her head, as if once again shaking herself loose from a trance. “…More or less. I see I have much to explain.” She paused, realizing that she had not introduced herself yet; a break in the routine, something she was clinging to on both ends. The familiar kept her grounded, the uncharted path kept her aware.

“My name is Zephyr.” She pulled out a small, deep purple crystal of her own, held on a silver chain. “This, these crystals we carry, we call them ‘Magicite’. Through them, we channel the power of the Espers that have chosen us.” 

Sunny whistled in amazement. By now, her horse had come up behind her, and pushed her snout under Sunny’s arm. In a clearly familiar motion, Sunny draped her arm on the horse’s head like an armrest. “I sure am glad someone like you finally came along. The only other fella I’ve seen what could put paid to a sillo was that slommack from Fortenburg. And she ain’t about to talk it over with me.”

As the pair spoke, a smattering of people emerged from the village nearby. They chattered among themselves, some of the men whooping for joy at the defeat of the Silhouettes. An older man, the mayor probably, began making his way to where Sunny and Zephyr were standing, flanked by all the men, women, and children who were interested.

“These things just ain’t natural. Hear how the animals start up again now that they’re gone?” Sure enough, with the Silhouettes dead, the birds in the forest had returned to singing, the wood beetles resumed their rasping drone, and even Sunny’s horse gave a nicker. “Just one more plague the Fortenbrans have brought to us.” 

Zephyr raised her hood as villagers began to breathe life into the ghost town. This was something of a habit for the wanderer, as she didn’t like to draw too much attention to herself. At the same time, it had begun to sink in just where she was, where she had ended up. A continent, plagued by eternal conflict. A pendulum swaying at the whims of the powers that be. Beyond that, however, she knew very little, and thought best not to dig herself in the hole of warring nations.

“Ask me anything”, she said, somewhat subdued, in her usual, stoic, almost automatic responding voice, “and I will plainly answer. All that I can, at least.” Her routine was now at the forefront, her mind repeating lines from a century’s old script, played out an innumerable amount of times over the years. 

“Well, it looks like we, or at least I, have a little welcoming party arriving,” Sunny said, replacing her hat on her head as the villagers drew near. “You look tired, partner. How about we have our jaw over some grub, huh?” She walked past Zephyr to have the village at her back, arms spread wide. “I might not know where you came from, but welcome to Landsoul. ‘Where love will find you home.’”

When the mayor’s posse arrived, Sunny greeted them cheerfully. They knew her by reputation, it seemed, asking if she was ‘Sunny Goodnight’ by name. What followed was a hero’s welcome, with effusive gratitude from the mayor, excited questions from the townsfolk, and kneeling promises made to play with the children later. Sunny navigated her reception with a practiced ease, making polite requests for what she needed and little else. A chance to buy powder, an inn room for a night, and, finally, a seat at the saloon for a decent meal. 

Much to her relief, Zephyr went largely unnoticed as she followed behind Sunny, only responding to her request with a slight shrug of her shoulders. Despite her voyage, she wasn’t really hungry, yet she seemed to know better than to argue right now. This, too, wasn’t uncommon of a sight upon driving Silhouettes from a village, after all. Thoughts crept in the back of her mind, wondering if the comfort of the routine would come with the same outcome, but she shook them off for now.

At the saloon, she would take her seat beside Sunny, only ordering a glass of water with a single piece of ice. Her hood was still raised, and she waited patiently for either the barrage of questions about her, the knowledge she had about the world around them, or for the meal Sunny would inevitably order for herself. 

 After an order of eggs and “overland trout,” Sunny turned her attention back to Zephyr. 

“Of course I reckoned this crystal was what let me kill the Silhouettes. I never used to be able to— neither me nor anyone else— but ever since I picked up this crystal, that light has followed my bullets and it just… works. Never used to. I’m glad I have the chance to beat these things outta our land. Did you find yours in a falling star, too?”  

Zephyr shook her head and took a sip from her glass before answering. “My Magicite has been handed down through the firstborn woman in my family for generations. I am surprised that the Esper within has not made contact with you.” Another sip, and she continued. “But yes, it is that crystal and the Esper’s power that makes defeating a Silhouette possible. No ordinary weapon or magic can damage them. Some call us ‘Callers’, others ‘Conjurers’. It depends on who you ask, I suppose. But in being chosen by the Espers, we are duty bound to eliminate Silhouettes wherever we can.” 

Sunny traced the edge of her glass with her finger, head lowered to where the brim of her hat covered her eyes. “I never thought this were something so big. I just picked this thing up ‘cause I thought it’d be valuable.” She laid a hand on the pouch at her hip wherein the magicite rested. “But I’ve been rooting out the sillos wherever I can find them. I’ve been trying to keep the peace around here a long time before this, against bandits and beasts, so it just seemed natural-like to do. The… ‘espers’ should be fine with what I’m doing, then, right?” 

“I cannot say.” She closed her eyes as she stared at her nearly empty water glass. “Your Esper has a voice I’ve not heard before. Mostly, the individual leaves a will in which the Caller can follow. A strong enough warrior can ignore their Esper’s will, but it’s always there, like an echo. But you’ve never heard your Esper’s voice before. So I cannot say.”

“If I had to venture a guess, however, with what little I know… I would say that your deeds and his will are more or less aligned.” 

“His? It’s a man? It must be magic, right? There ain’t a whole lot of that around here, less’n you count the Fortenbran wizards. I remember our town shaman could use a bit of healing magic. This don’t seem much like that, though.” Sunny looked up, realizing something mid-thought. “Hey, those Fortenbran mages can’t deal with the sillos either. They have to call this one lady every time. Has she got a crystal like this?” 

Zephyr closed her eyes, tilting her head a bit and holding her chin in her hands. “She must, if she can vanquish a Silhouette. For your other inquiries, I will answer them later on, in more private surroundings. I’m afraid, in your situation, things may be more… delicate than usual, if my Esper’s voice is accurate, at least.”

She opened her eyes again, gazing calmly yet firmly against her new companion across the table. “You may need to be ready to move at a moment’s notice, I can say that much with confidence. Are you accustomed to traveling, Sunny?” 

Sunny gave a good-natured scoff. “Traveling? It’s all I do. Livin’ out on the wild range… even back when I were a cowhand, it was the same. I reckon I’m one of the best travelers in Landsoul. Me and Tess.” Sunny pointed with her thumb to where her horse was hitched up outside.

After a brief pause, Sunny changed her tone, narrowing her eyes. “But… what do you mean, partner? Of course I appreciate Fortenburg would want this thing if they knew I had it. I reckon sooner or later they’ll hear about me hunting the sillos and put one and one together. But it don’t sound like you’re talking about that.”

“I cannot say for certain”, Zephyr said, her voice much lower now, “but I do know that carrying around that particular Magicite, far from its usual home, will have very far reaching consequences. You should be ready for anything and everything.”

She raised her hood over her head once more and stood up, her voice returning to normal. “But for now, I think we should retire for the evening. We’ll need our rest, I’m sure.” 

“Oh?” Sunny tilted her hat down over her face, showing a sly grin. “Are you coming with me, Miss Zephyr? ‘Tain’t likely. I mostly ride around Landsoul showing the owlhoots what’s right and wrong. Silhouettes are a newish thing for me. I can’t imagine someone not from Landsoul wanting to spend all their time doing that.” 

“Of course I’m accompanying you.” Her tone was matter-of-factly, speaking as if her idea was set in stone. “I will need to. It is what my Esper is telling me.”

* * *

The two would have left the tavern, and in a blur, made their way to the nearest Inn, getting two separate rooms between them (given graciously to Miss Sunny Goodnight, local hero and scourge of the Sillos!). Zephyr would set her small traveler’s bag down on her bed, then immediately she would make her way into Sunny’s room before the door could close, as agreed en route to the inn.

Zephyr would sit herself down at the small table nearest the window, staring idly at the moonlight peering in as she lit a candle using a spark of flame from her hands. After a moment, she would turn to face Sunny, her expression stoic as she slipped into another common script of hers. “Sunny Goodnight. I suspect I know the answer, but what do you know about Espers, if anything? Besides what we discussed before. And secondly… does the name Alexander ring any bells?” 

“Alexander? That’s written here on the crystal.” Sunny drew the magicite from her pouch, holding it up in the light and squinting. An inscription was carved on one surface of the crystal. It was quite long for the available space, and the carvers had etched small to fit everything. One word, ALEXANDER, was written large at the foot of the inscription.  “There’s something else written here too, but it’s too tiny. I meant sometime to get a magnifying glass and have a look, but..” 

Sunny cleared her throat. “Anyhow, no, I ain’t ever heard of an ‘esper’ until you showed up. That supposed to be some kinda magician? This supposed to belong to that Alexander fellow? I’ll tell you again, I got this thing out of a fallen star. I didn’t steal it.” 

Zephyr merely shook her head. “Espers are not people. They are mythical beings akin to deities that reside in a world near enough our own. Once upon a time, there existed a specific subset of magi called ‘Summoners’, people who, through intense training and communion, could manifest these primal gods in our world to fight at their side. Or so the legends go, anyway. The art has long since been lost to us.”

“But these Espers, benevolent as they may be, or perhaps in a sense of self preservation, have crafted an alternative to let their unique powers be used in our world. It is in Magicite, the crystals you and I bear, giving us the power needed to fight off the Silhouettes. You see, only an Esper’s magic can truly vanquish the scourge.”

As she spoke, Zephyr placed her small crystal on the table beside her. It bore no unique markings or showed any other signs than that of an ordinary amethyst. “In our cases, we bond through Magicite with the Espers. They lend us their power, so long as we host their will. It is nowhere near as efficient as a Summoner would be able to be, in eliminating this unique threat, but it is enough to prevent the world from falling into everlasting darkness.”

“It is odd to me, because in all my years, in all my mother’s years, or her mother before her, we have never encountered a single soul that bore the strength of an Esper beyond the core elements. Light is… rather a new development to me. But my grandmother knew much of the others, despite not meeting a Conjurer or Caller who bonded with them. And Alexander… on two fronts does this concern me.”

“Like mine, your Esper stands on an echelon above others. He was known to deliver judgment when Light’s last bastion stood to fail, and deliver hope to those who worshiped him. That he does not commune with you gives me pause, yet I have no reason to doubt the things you say to me.”

“But more pressing a matter, I fear. I’ve heard little on my seabound voyage to this land about a kingdom that worships the lost Esper Alexander, and more importantly, its enemies. If you truly are the one Alexander has chosen, then I cannot speak to your safety. I fear the tides of war will soon come crashing down upon you.”

Zephyr waited a moment before continuing. “And I aim to assist you, Sunny, because it is what my Esper, the King of Espers, Bahamut, has whispered to me. It is… something of a calling of mine. I am accustomed to aiding newborn Callers in their power, and leading them to their destiny.” 

For a moment after, Sunny sat in silence, eyes wide. A little too late, she raised her hands, taking a step back. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. This came from some kind of god? What kind of nonsense are you selling me?” Sunny shook her head. “If all that’s true, maybe I ought’a give this thing back. I ain’t ever heard it speak like you’re talking about. Does that mean I’m gonna get struck down by some angry god for keeping it?

“But… I need this thing. Ain’t nobody around here who will keep an eye on the sill… Silhouettes if I’m not around. That woman from Fortenburg couldn’t cover all of Landsoul even if she wanted to. And she don’t want to. I expect this village would be a bloodbath right now if I— or you— hadn’t shown up.” Sunny trailed off into silence, her eyes on the crystal in her lap. 

Zephyr closed her eyes. This kind of scene was commonplace; a girl attached to one village or another, perhaps her own, suddenly tasked by the call of a higher being for a greater purpose. It was nothing she hadn’t seen before, though any warmth Zephyr had in delivering the news had faded ages ago.

“I’m afraid this village is the least of your worries anymore, Sunny. And I’m afraid that the Silhouettes are the least of their worries, as well. If you worshiped a god, and one day, got news that your god was residing in your enemy’s land, what would you think? Now, let’s say you had a military force that could enforce your will to retrieve– or worse, eliminate– said god, before your enemy could misuse its divine power? If you want to spare these fine people, consider what I’ve said from a much grander scale.”

Zephyr had, of course, needed to deviate a bit from her own usual routine. After all, Bahamut had not commanded her to gather Conjurers, as he traditionally did. His whispers this time around were simply to wander and wait, and let fate take its course. In so doing, Zephyr was on her own for the first time in her life, and admittedly, didn’t really know what she was doing.

She did, however, know that Alexander was an important Esper, even beyond the power assumed in his wielding. Alexander was, from what she could gather on that cramped ship, a somewhat important socio-political tool, one driving the faith-based society of a nation at war, or at least, so she had overheard. Finding a Caller using Alexander’s power here would play into both the merchant sailors’ murmurs, as well as Bahamut’s whispers.

Zephyr needed to get Sunny out of here, and fast. That was all she knew right now, in this moment. 

“Well, I can’t just leave!” Sunny started out of her chair. “I ain’t got nowhere else to go. I’ve always been in Landsoul. Look, look.” 

Sunny strode to the window, throwing open the shutters. In the darkness, only the shadows of the neighboring buildings could be seen, with cat’s-eye slits of light in their closed windows. The prairies beyond were a sea of black, with a thick fur of tree branches visible against the sky. 

The night wasn’t as dark for Sunny. There was a good moon out. She and Tess had rode through darker. The constant din of the crickets was a soothing reminder when sleeping out on the prairie that the prairie, too, was sleeping. In just a handful of hours, the sun would brighten the eastern sky in reds and purples and the scent of the dew would fill the air. It was comfortable. It was routine.

“I wouldn’t have anywhere else to go. And what would I do when I get there? No, no, Landsoul’s where I need to be.” 

Zephyr had, once again, heard this all before. Girls resisting the call for greater purpose. And Sunny wasn’t wrong. Typically, it didn’t take long for either another Conjurer or more Silhouettes to move in to fill the vacuum. But Bahamut typically did not take no for an answer, and neither did Zephyr.

Still, this situation was not entirely like those that filled her cycles in the past, and even her Esper’s whispers were more subdued and quiet than usual. “We don’t need to leave right this second. But I estimate that by sunrise, you will see the truth of my words with your own eyes. We cannot take on an entire nation’s military by ourselves.” 

“I ain’t trying to drive out the entire Fortenbran occupation! Much as we all want them out, I ain’t that crazy,” Sunny retorted. She took a deep breath, pushing her bangs up on her head. “Look. I don’t know what kinda burrow milk you’re trying to sell me, but leaving Landsoul ain’t an option for me. You can run along and good luck with whatever you’re trying to do out there that you want me for. If it’s just killing sillos, I’d rather do it right here. I got no reason to go to some foreign land to do it there. Are we understood?” 

“If you’re not looking to drive them out, then staying here is counter-productive. But my words aren’t enough to convince you. I acknowledge and respect that. But I fear that by the time you see with your own eyes the truth of what I’m saying, it may be too late to escape. And to go down fighting the impossible is… well, it’s not what Alexander had in mind when he chose you, I’m certain.”

“If it’s answers you want, then my path is the one that makes the most sense to follow. If it were just hunting the Silhouettes as they emerge, I would have you stay here. But is that all you want? Or would you like a path that might see the scourge eliminated entirely? …I’m not promising as such, of course. I don’t have the answer. But you won’t find it here. All you’ll find here is occupation and war. If that is your desired goal, then…” 

Sunny stood quietly for a moment, placing her hat back on her head. “Getting rid of all Silhouettes in the world? Come on, partner. It’s all I can do to keep it under control in Landsoul. That’s too much for one or two people to do.”

She sat down on her bed, waving her hand at Zephyr. “Go on, you ought’a go to bed too. I can tell just from the look of you that you ain’t slept for way too long. If you’ve been going at the sillos that hard, then you should know what I mean when I tell you to keep it realistic.”

“That’s not–”, she started, in a rare display of emotion, uncharacteristic for the hooded mage, but she caught herself, shaking her head. “…I will retire for the night. Come morning, we will see which of our paths is the right one. Goodnight, Sunny”, she said, calmly and politely before turning to leave the room, making for her own. 

Sunny sat motionless for a moment, just long enough to make sure Zephyr was gone, then flopped back on the bed with a sigh. Regardless of what the hooded woman said, leaving Landsoul was out of the question for Sunny. She had never left before, and certainly didn’t intend to now. She was still convinced that somewhere in the countryside were her parents, still waiting to reunite after they were separated when Fortenburg sacked their hometown years ago. She wouldn’t be leaving before finding some trace of them.

Besides, she barely even knew the surrounding territories, let alone had any place to go in them. Of course she knew of Fortenburg— was forced to know, really— and knew the snow-capped peaks to the north belonged to Fimbulventr. She had gone briefly into the mountains once before to flee a Fortenbran platoon captained by their magicite bearer. She had yet to see that woman again since she had found a magicite of her own. Perhaps things would go differently next time.

She hadn’t expected to encounter another person with a crystal like hers, yet at the same time it made sense to her as soon as it happened. She knew one day Fortenburg would come for the crystal, as well. Their Silhouette problem was far worse than Landsoul’s. 

Sunny closed her eyes. Just like the night she acquired the magicite, she felt that her life couldn’t continue like this for much longer. She had been wrong then, though, and maybe another sign would come to prove her wrong this time as well.

* * *

The presence of people outside awoke Sunny before they made much noise. Sleeping out on the prairie every night gave one that sense. It was the same alien feeling she’d had one night as a child when a mountain bear had lurched down main street, a hulking mass of knotted fur and hot, ancient breath, an unwelcome beast that made even the sleeping childrens’ hair stand on end.

Silently, Sunny sat up, retrieving her hat. She had left the shutters open, and the sky was grey in pre-dawn. Hers was the corner room on the upper story. She crept to the side window, peeking out through the narrow space gap between the hinge and the shutter. Fortenbran soldiers stood beside their chocobos in the light of the blazing torches they held. Sunny’s eyes narrowed, but she kept looking. They alone wouldn’t explain this unnatural feeling.

Atop a black-armored chocobo, the beast came into view. An ashen-haired woman wearing a mask like a dragon’s skull. She raised her mask, and Sunny retreated from the window at the first sign of the woman looking up.

The heavy thump of the woman’s sword on the ground confirmed she had dismounted. Her weapon was a crude shard of metal, featureless and oddly shaped, like it wasn’t meant to be a sword in its own right but a bayonet on a titan’s rifle. Sunny’s pulse quickened, and she knew that she hadn’t been seen, but the Fortenbran magicite bearer had detected something from that window. 

Another soldier misplaced a foot and stumbled into a ditch beside the inn, breaking the silence with a hail of sliding gravel. Sunny peeked out. The Fortenbran Caller was beside the offending soldier in an instant. Her hand shot out from her cloak, silently clenching around his throat. With her skull mask perched on her forehead, Sunny couldn’t see her face, only her teeth, bared and gritted in rage. 

Another knight dared to approach her, giving a meek report in a valiant effort to spare his comrade. Her head jerked toward him, and he flinched. Yet she relented, shoving the gagging soldier away. She motioned with her chin to the front door.

The sound of the latch rattling was quiet in the inn. Then came the pounding on the door.

It wasn’t long before a similar, quiet knock came upon Sunny’s room door. “It’s me”, Zephyr said, as quiet as she could manage while still making sure that it was clearly her voice coming through. “We need to plan, and fast. May I come in?”

She stood outside the door, patiently waiting, yet fully aware that they were virtually surrounded. She had not yet seen the woman leading the invasion, but something in her being knew, deep down, that this opponent was not unlike herself and Sunny. Bahamut had not said anything, but she could tell that his will was restless. They needed to move. Now. 

Without a sound, Sunny came away from the window. She turned the doorknob slowly, opening the door barely wide enough to squeeze through to not risk the hinge squeaking. Without a word, she walked back to the window, pointedly walking around a spot on the floor she knew creaked. She stood beside the crack in the shutter where the Fortenbran Caller was visible, arms folded. She nodded to Zephyr to look. 

Zephyr silently made her way to the spot on the other side of the window from Sunny, gazing down at the Caller and her squadron. She spoke nearly silently, enough for Sunny to hear, but not enough to draw any attention from outside. “It is as I thought and feared. The tides of war crash upon the shore. I did not expect one of our own, however.”

She turned her head towards Sunny, her expression calm, yet resolute. “We need to escape. This is a fight we cannot win.” 

“I know that. See, it’s that woman from Fortenburg I talked about. Must be here about those sillos from yesterday.” 

Downstairs, the innkeeper was speaking with the soldier pounding on the door, a lopsided conversation where the soldier practically shouted his demands to be let in and the innkeeper’s responses were barely audible. 

Sunny shook her head. “You ought to get out of here first. Or just stay in your room. It’s me they’re after and you know it.” 

“If I’d had any inkling towards leaving on my own, this conversation would not be taking place right now.” Her words were as cold as her expression as she gazed back outside. “But I have escaped more dire encounters before. Today is no different.”

“But make no mistake. This is more than just about controlling turf or hunting Silhouettes. The reverence towards your Esper, I fear, is what is driving these people now. We need to go, and now.” 

Sunny sighed and shook her head in resignation. “Take it from someone who plays the hero a lot, you should be careful not to do it too much where it’ll get you in trouble.”

As if in response, the inn’s front door downstairs banged open.

“Well, they can chase us out, then,” Sunny grumbled. “Tess is around back still. I ain’t leaving without her. I’m gonna grab her and go. You’re not in trouble here, but you will be if they think you’re with me. Just think it through.” 

Outside, the Caller woman had left their line of sight from the alleyway to walk in the front. Sunny laid her hand on the windowsill, ready to jump out. 

“My place is here, until otherwise, it is elsewhere. I am not one for interrogations.” Her hand was on the other side of the windowsill, eying a Chocobo that had wandered around, just beneath. “…The world has not given up on me yet, it seems.” 

“I’m sure Tess can take your weight if that horse-bird lets you down.” As soon as she finished speaking, Sunny vaulted over the windowsill. She paused to hang off the outside, to reduce the height of her fall. She landed with a practiced roll, clearly not the first such escape she had made. She scooped up her hat and turned toward the back of the building where Tess was hitched up. 

Zephyr watched the maneuver before slowly sliding out of the window herself, lowering herself gradually before landing uneasily by the wall. After dusting her robes off, she approached the Chocobo, which eyed her warily. She held a hand out to try and calm it down, though it didn’t budge. “…Contingency plan it is, as usual.” 

She reached into her pocket, producing a small handful of vegetation, then set it down on the ground. “Never leave home without Greens of some kind. Be grateful, these aren’t your gil-for-a-dozen Gysahl variety”, she muttered. 

She was shaken from her stupor as the Chocobo let out a sharp, happy “Kweh!”, before beginning to peck at the food Zephyr laid at its feet. 

Sunny visibly jumped at the chocobo’s cry, pulling her gun halfway out of its holster. “Keep that thing quiet!” she hissed. 

A loud thump around the corner was all the warning they got. The dull tip of the Fortenbran Caller’s blade came around the corner first, followed by the snout of her dragon skull mask. “I thought I smelled a rat,” she said, so quiet it was barely audible to the pair she addressed. She let her sword hit the ground, sending a noticeable vibration through the earth.

Sunny’s revolver was in her hand already. “With that thing on your face, all you can smell is yourself.”

The Caller gave a “huh” that might have been a laugh. “Was it comedy night at the saloon? I don’t care. I’m here for that treasure you’ve filched.” 

Zephyr closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to listen for a voice that would not come. She then stepped forward, holding out her hand as a metallic object began to extend, forming a large, silver ring. “Go on without me”, she said, under her breath to Sunny. “I can buy us enough time to cover our escape.”

She then spoke up so the masked Caller could hear her properly. “Were you a thief in a past life yourself, Miss? I’m afraid my friend and I have no intentions of returning to you a power to which you were not chosen. To disrupt Their natural order… is unforgivable.” 

The Caller scoffed, casting a glance behind her, inviting an imaginary group behind her to share in a joke. The red jewels inset in her mask’s eyes glinted. “Look at you, stranger. You must not know where you are. This is the world of man. This is the nation of Fortenburg. Everything that falls within these borders is the property of the king by right. Including that magicite she has. And yours. They’re just tools for us to use.”

She lifted her mask. The rubies were not part of the mask, instead embedded in her eye sockets, bulging out to fit their position in the mask. She pushed on them to pop them back behind her eyelids. All around her eyes the skin was reddened and scarred.

Sunny recoiled. This was her first time seeing her face. “What kind of freak are you, Kasimira?”

“‘Your Majesty’ is the correct address, hick. Now kneel, or give your blood for Fortenburg.” 

Energy began to swirl around the edges of her ring. “You would give up your humanity for power… there is no saving you.” She stood between Sunny and the ruby-eyed woman as her ring began to glow. “You fancy yourself a queen, yet see yourself standing above the gods. I pity you, I do.”

With a sigh, she continued. “Is it a common trait for Conjurers in this region to be deaf to the voices of those who lend them power?” 

“Kasimira” pulled the mask back down over her face, the rubies pushing back out into the eye holes. A pair of lasers shot out, gyrating rapidly as they traced a sigil upon the ground beneath Sunny and Zephyr’s feet.

“Watch out, dodge it!” Sunny shouted, already backpedaling away. Behind their adversary, the rest of the Fortenbran soldiers fell into line, some at Kasimira’s back and some running around the side, on their way around the building to try to cut them off. 

Zephyr jumped back, just outside of the range of the sigil as a wide beam of light burst forth from her ring, aimed directly at the woman in front of her. No more words could be said now, the only thing was the encounter, and if they were lucky, the impending escape. 

Beam and Kasimira both disappeared behind the explosion of the sigil on the ground. Sunny fired a couple errant shots through the blaze, turning and running for the back of the building.

Tess was there under the awning. Unlike the other horses that cowered and fretted, Tess was stamping and bucking with eagerness to go. Sunny vaulted onto the saddle, blasting through Tess’s lead with a gunshot. Tess needed no more prompting, and turned to gallop away. 

Zephyr fired off a couple small blasts of fire from her hand as a small stampede of chocobos ran past her. The mage grabbed onto the saddle of the last to pass, and much to her surprise, it was the very same she had just fed, and it let her on its back with ease. She guided it to run around the other side of the building, in the same direction she had seen Sunny run towards, and before long, caught sight of the woman on horseback, making strides in catching up.

The other Caller was nowhere to be seen, and she could not sense her power any longer. For now, at least. 

Their destination lay ahead of them: the forest from which the Silhouettes had emerged the day before. Sunny and Tess weaved tightly through the trees, taking routes and maneuvers that spoke to their long experience with the Landsoul wild. Though a horse was slightly slower than a chocobo, their mastery of the terrain more than compensated for that.

“Still there?” Sunny called back after several tense minutes of forging through the woods. “That woman can fly, so we had better stick to the trees for now. And for who knows how much longer, since they brought the whole darn army!” 

Zephyr’s newly ‘acquired’ steed made little time in catching up. “I’m here. Are you in one piece?”, she called back. “I’m not sure we’re being followed, but I also do not know how this military power operates. Where are we going, do you know?”

The mage was well acquainted with the terrain of a forest; her cycles in the past led her to many a wooded locale. The trees were as a second home; assuming, of course, she had a first home at all. 

“All depends on how far they want to chase us,” Sunny said, eyes fixed ahead. “Worst case, we gotta go in them there mountains to the north. That’s Fimbulventr, and they won’t want to march an army up into there. Even if it’s emptier than a banker’s heart.” 

Sunny and Tess slowed their pace as they drew up beside a large clearing dotted with mossy boulders. They corrected their course to stay in the forest, though it was clear the forest would soon end. Up ahead, the peaks of red rock could be seen between the treetops as the forest of trees gave way to a forest of rock at the foot of the mountains. Towering spires rose above the landscape in the dozens, a single large ridge in the distance like the fin of a great fish separating Landsoul from the mountains beyond. The sun was rising now, and soon the rocks would bake red in the morning light.

“Plenty of places to lose them ‘round here. They don’t know this place like I do. Won’t be my first time running into these mountains either, afraid to say.” 

“Fimbulventr… You mean to tell me we’ve actually crossed into another nation entirely?” The voice in Zephyr’s head echoed the name, as if confirming to her what she already suspected. “Then that is our destination. From there, we can regroup. And I’ve more than my share of questions, in return.”

Her chocobo kept stride with Sunny’s horse as the duo rode into the sunrise.