First off: Dead dove, do not eat. This fic will have accidental incest with Faris/Lenna, then full on relationship once they deal with the realization that they're related. This fic will also mention uncomfortable subjects that come with a life of crime. Don't like? Don't read. Use the back button.

Yes yes, I know, many people do a game novelization at some point. However, this is a thoroughly self-indulgent and personal version, as it features my forever otp and is reliant on the following: my own translations of the game, books, and cards, with nods to Legend of the Crystals, DFFOO, WoFF, and other secondary sources. As I am most familiar with the Japanese original, my memory is going to slip a lot on the official English localizations-and no matter, really; the GBA localization adds jokes where there were none, and the PSX localization was just unfortunate all around. Also, this fic is informed by personal experience with being a butch/nonbinary lesbian, existing as part of many worlds and belonging to none (being not trans or cis enough/not disabled enough/not brown or white enough/etc), and my own relationship to my girlfriend being illegal not so long ago.

This is for my girlfriend and future wife, who knew me 20+ years before when I was obsessing over this game and still thought I was worth loving. Who put up with me inflicting an earlier version of this fic on her 20 years back and gets to put up with the non-heteronormative version being inflicted on her now. Love you, dear. We belong together.

Final note: I was going to release this when I had a cover and more chapters and illustrations ready, and maybe some incidental music, but due to real life being terrible, I'm releasing it now. Illustrations will be added to the AO3 version later.


Faris, captain of the Maelstrom and tamer of the legendary demon dragon of the Great Inland Seas, glared at the slate and the precious few sheets of paper underneath it that mocked her with their blank faces. It was not that she had never written a ransom note before, but sending one to a king was far different from sending one to a minor merchant. A minor merchant didn't have the full force of an entire country's military at his beck and call.

With a grunt of disgust at herself, she took the slab of chalk and tried again.

Vicinity of Tule, Tycoon
2/21/815

Your Royal Majesty;

I have your daughter. Should you wish to see her again, whole and unmolested, you will surrender 500,000 gil to my representative in Tule, along with a signed document declaring your intent to waive passage fee requirements for all smallships using the Torna Canal.

Yours,
Faris Scherwiz

Everything about it was terrible, right down to the way her uppercase F always looked like a tilted S with a line through it. She took a rag to wipe clean her slate for a listing of her problems to get her thoughts in order. At least she hadn't wasted good paper and ink on her attempts.

The first problem: Three idiots tried to hijack her flagship. In her own hideout, at that. She trussed them up and threw them in the quartermaster's cabin, which doubled as a holding cell.

The second problem: One of those idiots was the princess of Tycoon. Were it not for her status and the likelihood that at least one of those other idiots might be her personal guard, Faris might have considered inviting her to the comfort of her cabin. She was a lovely young woman and Faris didn't trust men with lovely young women.

The third problem, and one that has been a thorn in her side ever since the king's retaliation for her attack on his navy a couple of years ago: With the Torna Canal that linked the Inland Seas locked up to anyone without passage papers, tides low on account of winter and the heavenly spheres being further away at this time of month, and with landslide rubble blocking the narrow passage from Tule to Karnak, her ship was trapped in the Western Inland Sea. Pickings got slimmer with each day, and with her crew and colony of misfits dependent on her, she needed some other source of income.

Two of the three idiots she could probably throw overboard. Or drop off in one of the smaller port towns, if she was feeling generous. With her ranks already full and their futures uncertain, she didn't need the extra mouths to feed.

And so she came to the princess. Pretty little thing. Bold, too, to step up to a pirate captain, apologize for trying to steal her ship, and announce herself royalty in the hopes that it might sway Faris towards agreeing to just deliver her to her destination. While Faris appreciated people willing to stand up to her, she wasn't quite sure whether naivete was a driving factor in the princess' request. Princess Lenna claimed that her father had gone to the Wind Shrine to check up on the Crystal. Faris supposed that that was incentive enough, if the princess thought her father might be in danger. She wouldn't know, she'd never had a family.

Princess Lenna had eyes like Faris', if differently shaped and more vibrant than Faris' grey-green. Not so unusual; green eyes were fairly common in the highlands of Carwen and Tycoon. Unusual was the fact that the princess showed her pendant as proof of her claim to the throne of Tycoon. It was the spitting image of Faris' own. Just in much better shape. A silver dragon curled around a green stone etched with something or other. Probably an emerald.

Now, Faris didn't remember much about her early childhood. A storm, the pain of hitting her head, nearly drowning, and the slide of scales against her flailing hands were her earliest memories. What she did know was what she was told: that she was found in wreckage with her pendant, and that it was just glass and cheap white metal. Faris never had any reason to doubt her guardian on that front. The glass gem was too clear to be a real one; if it was real, it would have inclusions and require diamond-tipped tools to etch. No one gave a child real jewelry to wear. Her guardian told her that it meant nothing, and why should she have doubted him?

Likely her pendant was made as practice before the jeweler made the princess'. Or it was a copy made to mimic some short-lived fashion in the royal court. It was the only thing that made any sense.

Ransoming the princess would take care of her immediate needs. A quick flush of funds to supplement her usual income until another unwary merchant ship wandered into her territory. And, really, something must be done about the stranglehold on passage through the Torna Canal. Something must be done about Tycoon's monopoly of the Wind Crystal, too, and the subsequent control of its powers.

However, there was a danger in that the king may choose to mount a rescue mission instead. Or retaliate. Or do any number of things that resulted in Faris' efforts blowing up in her face.

Faris' thoughts turned to an alternative. Alexander Highwind Tycoon was renown as the Pacifist King. He might have retaliated to her attack on his navy, but she did strike first. After all, she was the youngest pirate captain in history and had to prove herself somehow. He might be amenable to at least listening to her if she won over the princess. A grateful king would surely be more generous than an angry one. She might just get away with asking for more.

She wiped the chalk from her slate and started with a new list. Demands or requests, it made no difference at this point. Faris would take the princess to the Wind Shrine.

?

Had Faris not spent the past few years carefully grooming crew loyalty and making judicious use of the fear some people had for her beloved sea dragon, she likely would have been voted out of her position and someone new might have taken over the Maelstrom. After all, it was the crew who decided what they did. She was just there to lead.

Her crew took her grabbing of the reins of power to hurry them along with grace. Aside from some prodding, of course. They were smart and her quartermaster knew how to argue her case to them. She might end up paying for her presumption later, but for now Syldra hauled her ship to the Wind Shrine at a pace that would put the sleekest racing vessels to shame.

The continued lack of wind concerned her, and not the least because the kingdom of Tycoon controlled the Wind Crystal. Manipulating the trade winds had been the key to Tycoon's wealth; they'd never let the wind stop for so long. The wind died the other day and had yet to pick up again. And while Syldra was faster than any ship and had nearly unlimited reserves of energy, she was reluctant to rely so much on him.

I can handle it, he said on the second evening out from her hideout. Worry permeated through their bond. Faris wanted to reach out to him, stroke his scales soothingly, but his attention was on the northern horizon.

Faris strode past her guests, the princess and her entourage, on the way to the bow. Syldra's hunger gnawed at her stomach, a sure sign that it was time to stop for the night. The skeleton crew she took with her for this venture scrambled forth at her gesture to unhook her dragon's harness from the towing lines. He waited patiently and craned his head around for her to scratch at his scales.

So she did. Her nails found the soft skin between the scales with the ease of long practice. "You've been around a while." An understatement. He remembered a time when the world's shorelines were different. Faris wondered sometimes how old he was, but he stopped measuring time long ago. "Experienced anything like this before?"

Dead winds? Not here, not like this, not for this long. Syldra's enormous green eyes closed in pleasure at her scratching. I'll hunt and come back.

"Go eat to your heart's content. Rest if need be. We'll still be here."

Syldra paused, his gaze falling on the princess. She's capable of hearing me.

I think there are still some sky dragons in Tycoon. Her family might have one. Faris switched her responses to thoughts; she'd rather not have the pretty princess realize she was being talked about.

Pets too dependent on humans. Syldra snorted and pulled away to dip below the surface of the sea. His dorsal fin appeared again at some distance before he swam out of eyesight.

Faris leaned over the bow's railing to get a look at the damage to the hull of her ship accidentally inflicted by Syldra's tail. A little more battery. Another thing that needed money to be fixed.

"He's magnificent," Princess Lenna said from behind her, her tone wistful. Faris turned to see her gazing after Syldra with something akin to longing.

"Surely yer da' can get you a dragon." It was peculiar, seeing a young lady so enamored by her sea dragon. Usually they screamed in fear, not delight. Syldra had been legendary even before he bonded with Faris, and his reputation as a wild and hostile demon dragon had been passed down generations. Nice, though, to be around a woman who didn't fear her soul's brother. And Syldra seemed to like her well enough.

Lenna's gaze turned to her and her face fell. "My father's sky dragon is the only one left in the world. I will probably inherit him. He just…won't talk to me. I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

"Doubt it's anything you've done, love. Dragons choose who they want to talk to on their own." Faris offered her hand to the princess, and not just in sympathy; she'd noticed the lady had yet to gain her sea legs. It wouldn't do for Lenna to lose her balance on her ship.

The other reason for it was, simply, to signal to her crew to stay away from the princess. Faris trusted them about as well as could be expected, considering that some of them were hardened criminals she'd broken out of prison a few years back. They'd proven themselves time and again, but she still didn't trust them not to be disgusting towards a refined lady who had likely never been around such ruffians.

The hand that slipped into hers wasn't the soft, delicate hand of a noble lady. It was fine-boned, of course—much like hers, in fact—but she recognized the calluses of a swordsman. Or woman. Despite her usual iron grip on her features, delight insisted on tugging at the corners of her lips. Faris has taken enough trophies from noble ladies to know that playing with a sword was not what one of Lenna's refinement did.

"Took up the sword, eh?"

The corners of the princess' lips twitched as she fought the urge to grin. "Once or twice, perhaps."

"Sword hand like that? That's not 'once or twice.'" Faris, feeling particularly bold, settled the hand on the inside of her elbow. Lenna made no move to dissuade her.

Rather, the delightful lady leaned close, almost conspiratorially. It seemed to be her secret, and one she didn't mind telling a pirate like her. "I've been teaching myself how to use the sword by watching the royal guard train since I was twelve."

Well. Faris had expected a spoiled little princess who might have complained about her circumstances. Not…whatever Lenna was, instead. She was turning out to be a lot more interesting than Faris had hoped for. "And no one discouraged you?"

"My father understands that the necessity of my training supersedes my status." The princess' lips pressed thin in her worry, compelling Faris to pat the hand reassuringly.

Don't, you bloody idiot, Faris rebuked herself before her fancies turned somewhere inappropriate. Royalty's trouble.

You can always kidnap her for a night and be done by morning. Syldra's voice teased her. He wasn't far enough away for their connection to fade. Seems like she wouldn't mind.

I'll bet her father would. Or at least one of her companions. Faris decidedly did not look at the pretty princess as she guided her down the forecastle steps and back to the vagrant and old geezer. Shame, and the princess was just her type.

Perhaps not unexpectedly, the companions glared suspiciously at her. Probably for being so friendly with their princess. The vagrant was given the unfortunate name of Butz, which Faris supposed sounded perfectly fine in his native tongue of…she thought it might be one of the far northern languages. His words have those sharply defined consonants and staccato pace of those lands northeast of Tule, and he pronounced his name "Bahtts". Reeked of chocobos. He styled himself a wanderer, but all that meant to Faris was that he had nowhere to call home. Not that Faris was in a place to judge.

It was the amnesiac old man who approached her. Looked about her guardian's age of sixty-something, before good ol' Cap'n Merrick had the temerity to die on her. The black and gold of his clothes were nothing like the colors of any of the three kingdoms, but he held himself like an old and experienced soldier.

"What are your intentions towards Princess Lenna?" he demanded, like he was the princess' bloody keeper.

"Galuf, please," Lenna began once she slipped her hand off Faris' elbow. She stood a little straighter. "I can take care of myself."

Faris had a half-dozen answers to the demand, but her chest ached under her bindings and she had no desire to get involved in whatever nonsense the princess' companions wanted of her. "Daresay you oughtta listen to her. I've work to do."

With that, Faris strode past them to her cabin so she could breathe, at least a little, before binding herself up again to resume her role during supper. Wouldn't do to reveal herself.

?

There were solutions to the problem of her body, of course. Merrick Reid was Mairi long before Faris was born. Probably before her long-dead parents were born, for all Faris knew. He'd had his breasts chopped off, the skin stitched up, and was healed by a white mage. Faris grew up with Merrick's warnings that women weren't welcome on pirate ships and knew that she had to play a man if she was to survive on the ship.

The difference between her and Merrick was that she never identified as a man. Not the way he did. Oh, he'd tried to influence her, telling her that she needed to play a convincing boy to protect herself and that she needed to be able to believe it herself, but she hung on to the fact that she was still a girl because she didn't have much else that was hers. Faris had no family, no nation, and never did. Even her name wasn't originally hers—she had a speech impediment as a child and the name she used now had been crafted from whatever she managed to slur or lisp out when she was hauled from the wreckage of a ship at five years of age.

So she bound her breasts under short vests she had to make herself, hid her waist under layers of cloth to even out her silhouette, wore sleeveless greatcoats over her layered clothes even in high summer to keep prying eyes from getting a good look at her rear end, and spoke as roughly as any wharf rat. The role of the pirate captain was one steeped in theatrics, and she'd been pretending to be male for fifteen years. She's a bloody expert at it now.

Nowadays the crew accepted that she preferred spending her time alone in her cabin once her work was done. She talked to her officers after supper if she had to, but usually they left her alone.

It was not a good time to play hermit, not when all her plans went askew. Once the princess and her entourage were fed, the quartermaster joined her in her cabin for planning.

Faris' role was to plan raids and command their battles, and take charge when decisiveness was needed. The quartermaster took care of the crew, portioned out their winnings, meted out justice, and took her to task if she overstepped. Normally there was no need—she lived on pirate ships since she was five years old and knew all the rules, and certainly knew how dependent her position was on her crew's goodwill—but sooner or later the crew was going to wonder about her plans for them.

The spare stool creaked as the quartermaster sat up from poring over the ledgers that laid open on her desk. His normally dense Tulish/Carwenian bastard of a sailor's accent was subdued, as it usually was when he addressed matters of business. "Don't look proper. Without that ship we meant to attack yesterday, we've naught to take to Tule to pay off our lads. They'll not mind for now, but—"

"Wind's dead, Ben. It's been dead for days. We're the only ones able to sail right now." Faris didn't need to look at the ledgers to know how bad their prospects were. Without wind, they had no prey. Without prey, they would have to take the act to land. All the things that made her an effective pirate captain were tied to her bond with a sea dragon capable of summoning storms and generating inescapable whirlpools. She was powerless on land.

There were forty full-time crewmen on the Maelstrom; only a dozen of which were currently on the ship with her. Sixty more spread between two lesser ships moored at the hideout. Fifty-something vagrants and families of the crew in her hideout with nowhere else to go. A hundred thieves, a variable number of street urchins, and thirty ladies of negotiable virtue in Tule. Another hundred people of varying occupations she bribed to keep her little kingdom running free of official meddling. Merrick always did say she had too much ambition.

"'S'why the crew wants to know yer scheme with the pretty bird." Ben watched her speculatively, like he had another question on his mind and wasn't sure about asking it. "Reckoned she's yer type, but…"

But he wasn't sure if she was being rational about this. Which was fair; she did fantastically stupid shit for pretty girls as a teenager, some of which got her into prison. "Ransom if we find her da' and he's not amenable to some talk. Bartering if he's 'preciative of us taking such good care of her. Either way, I plan on us getting something out of this."

"Aye, 'spected as much. Well, boss, I'll need to assure the crew afore I sends 'em all to sleep." Ben stood and closed his ledgers. He paused while tucking them under his arm to glance back at her. His expression softened for a moment, reminding her uncomfortably of the nature of his affection for her. "Careful with 'em. Swells're more trouble than worth. Y'know that better'n any."

Faris distracted herself with a sip of wine before answering. She had been sixteen when she fell in with the queen of Karnak and let herself be manipulated into their arrangement. Play the queen's consort long enough to discourage her court from further demands of marriage, or stay in prison. It hadn't been much of a choice, and it certainly wasn't her fault it ended the way it did. "Entirely different situation. Shove off."

So he did, leaving her to the cabin that was home for as long as she can remember. There was a bunk; she had the top bunk taken off when she gained her captaincy, because Merrick was gone by then and there wasn't need of it anymore. Her sea chest and the narrow box she thought of generously as a wardrobe took up more space than she liked. The oil lamp swayed with the ship, hung as it was from the overhead timbers. Her desk was a hopeless mess without her guardian about to rap her knuckles for procrastination. The cabin always seemed to feel a bit too empty since Merrick died, especially when Syldra was also out of range.

Part of the time she spent doodling poorly-drawn sea dragons and fish on her slate as she tried not to think about the pretty princess. Even if the princess was so inclined, there's no future there. Part of the time she wasted by drinking a little more wine and flipping through her records aimlessly. Eventually, with sleep nowhere to be found, the silence got to be unbearable enough to chase her out.

The night watchmen nodded in acknowledgement to her as she passed them. One, a young Jacolean lad still green enough in his employment to fall over himself in his attempts to please her, glanced pointedly at the forecastle deck.

The princess shouldn't be out like this, not without her escort. Certainly not in a filmy dress that did little to hide her legs. In the pale light of the white moon and their twin world, she looked positively sublime. Faris had half a mind to invite the princess to her cabin for some wine and a game at flats, which was a terrible idea all around.

Faris moved softly up the steps to the forecastle, keeping close to the railing where she knew the boards wouldn't creak. She hadn't intended on sneaking up on the princess, but she also didn't want to wake the men who slept under the forecastle.

"Highness?" Her voice, though softened to keep from carrying belowdeck, still should have been enough to get the princess' attention. Faris had drawn close enough to touch her, but it felt…intrusive, somehow, to do so. Still, her fingers ghosted across the pale shoulder and—

And the princess whirled on her, one hand gripping Faris' upper arm and the other pressing something narrow and sharp into the padding that straightened out her waist. Were she born a man, with the hip-to-waist ratio to match, it likely would have drawn blood.

Faris had to bite back a surprised guffaw at the princess' boldness as she stepped back from what she had thought was just a decorative knife. Best not let the princess figure her out. Not yet.

The princess pulled away almost as quickly, surprise and confusion flitting across her face before she settled on being contrite. "Faris! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you approach."

"Lost in the clouds, eh?"

"Worried." The princess slipped her knife back into the jeweled sheath dangling off her hip and turned back to watch the horizon.

Faris joined her at the railing, making sure she wasn't too close. Wouldn't want another encounter with the knife, after all. "I'm sure your da' is fine."

"It's not just him I'm worried about." Lenna paused to glance at her face, like she was trying to figure something out. "Have you noticed that the clouds haven't moved since the wind stopped?"

It wasn't something Faris wanted to think about. She had enough to concern herself with. "Aye. Syldra's worried, too. And when a dragon his age worries, I worry."

"Is he very old?" Lenna seemed to perk up as she changed the subject. The worry shed itself from her shoulders, taking the tightness in them with it. Faris was tempted to smile at how bald the girl's fascination with her dragon was.

"Reckon he might be a few hundred years old, maybe older. Says he remembers when the shorelines were different. Talk to him sometime."

"May I?" Lenna's eyes practically lit up. Were things not so dire, Faris might have invited her to stay a while longer just to talk with Syldra.

I'd like that. Syldra's tone was a mixture of curiosity and fondness; surprising, given that he'd only met the princess briefly. She's like you.

No, she's not. Faris couldn't imagine anyone more different. What common ground would a princess possibly have with a foundling and lifelong criminal?

But it's late, and the princess still shouldn't be roaming on her own on a bloody pirate ship. Given that the princess was prone to a confounding amount of naive willfulness, Faris suspected that she wouldn't obey the suggestion to go back to the quartermaster's cabin. Still, she could try.

"Syldra would be delighted. But it's late, lass, and as much as I trust my crew with my life, I don't trust 'em with yours. Fancy a drink to settle your nerves?"

A bold proposition, but the princess smiled kindly at her. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm afraid my tastes in that kind of company runs towards my own kind."

The laugh that threatened to burst out of her had to be battened down with everything she had. Almost a shame that Faris pulled off the crossdressing so well. "Guess we have common ground there. Well, if you ever decide to let me test your steel, or even wish to play a game at flats, feel free to ask. But I, at least, need to be up before dawn. Syldra will keep you company."

Faris stepped away from the railing to shrug off her greatcoat. It was colder out here than from where they set out, and it wouldn't do for the princess to catch pneumonia on her ship. She bundled it and handed it to the princess. "This isn't your castle, love. Gets a lot colder at night. Take care of it for me and give it back in the morning."

The princess accepted her felted wool greatcoat gratefully. "Goodnight. Thank you."

With a bow that might have been presumptuous, Faris left the princess' side to unbind herself and head to bed. At least the greater troubles were forgotten about. For the moment.

?

There were ways in which Lenna Charlotte was supposed to do things. Rules of behavior, carefully devised methods of approaching problems, recommendations for any situation she might find herself in, and so on. The part of her life that belonged to the kingdom was carefully scheduled, regimented, and sanitized for her delicate sensibilities.

Lenna fancied herself at least slightly more down-to-earth than the average aristocrat, and often eschewed those rules when necessary. Her father was common-born, from a minor dragonrider family, and was taken from his family as a child to serve as the king's successor and future husband to the king's sickly daughter. He was bonded to the last sky dragon in the world, and the previous king thought it prudent to keep her father and his dragon as a symbol that at least Tycoon's historic links to dragons would continue. He had never forgotten his roots and taught her how to survive without the comforts of her rank.

When Lenna left the castle to chase after her father, she hadn't been completely unprepared. Even if she did leave with barely more than a few hurried words to one of the ministers. She took her knife and all the training that went with it. Most of her personal jewels she left behind, but still she brought some along in case she needed to barter or bribe anyone on the way to the Wind Shrine. Her clothes might be a bit revealing, but she had the freedom of movement she needed if she had to defend herself.

All the training in the world hadn't prepared her for a meteorite strike, the buckling of the earth under her feet, or either of these things leading up to her losing her balance and being knocked out long enough for goblins to try to make off with her. And she was grateful to Butz for saving her from the little beasts, truly, but she was sure that she would have been able to escape on her own if she had been conscious at the time.

Her father taught her to let others make their assumptions and use it to her advantage, so she smiled graciously as Galuf offered to escort her from the meteorite crash site to the Wind Shrine. She said nothing of her position as the princess when Butz joined her and Galuf along the way; she had no idea how such a revelation would be taken.

Exposing her position to the pirate captain upon their capture—and honestly, they did try to steal his ship—was a calculated risk. After all, with the wind so unnaturally still, he was somehow the only one sailing. Lenna sought to appeal to a pirate's greed, and he did not disappoint.

The rumors and reports said that Captain Scherwiz could call down storms and control the seas. Lenna remembered well that he had assembled a fleet of six other pirate captains and struck out at her father's navy as an example. He had since focused his attacks on the wealthiest merchants, making himself a persistent thorn in her father's side as a result. Everything she heard or read had led her to believe that he was a horrid scoundrel interested only in money. She expected just about all the things one assumes about a pirate, really.

Faris surprised her. Once he decided to let her and her party go, he was every bit the gentleman to her. Just for her, he softened his strident tones and extended every courtesy. It really should have been off-putting, as she had never been interested in men romantically, but none of his attentions felt like they were coming from a man. It was confusing.

More confusing was the way the tingling left by his touch lingered like a pleasant memory long after he left her with his coat and went back to his cabin. Lenna rubbed at her shoulder and tried to ignore it. Honestly, she had more pressing matters to concern herself with.

Bonding with your kind is also important. The mental voice that wasn't hers resounded in her head with the timbre and echoes of ages. It tasted of saltwater, smelled of ozone, felt like sleek scales that stayed warm even at the coldest depths of the ocean.

Lenna gasped; her eyes darted around for the sea dragon the voice had to belong to. Obligingly, his massive head slipped almost soundlessly out of the water to fix one great green eye on her. His scales gleamed silver in the moonlight, and—

"Did Faris actually name you Silver Dragon?"

The skin around the eye crinkled in what must be a dragon's smile, and Syldra gave something of a rhythmic susurrus that might have passed as a laugh. No more ridiculous than the names humans give their offspring.

"Perhaps."

Lenna truly tried to comport herself the way a princess should, but she couldn't help feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the feelings his existence dredged up. His kind hadn't been seen for generations before he surfaced years ago to terrorize the Western Inland Sea; they had been slaughtered hundreds of years ago for parts. The captain seemed to have the same sort of relationship to this dragon that Lenna's father had to his own dragon, something she desperately wanted and feared she would never have. Syldra might very well be the last of his kind, just as her father's Notos was the last of the sky dragons.

Not the last of my kind, Syldra said with a hint of amusement coloring the tone of his voice. Just the only one who wanted more than hunting and mating in life.

Tension she didn't know she had seemed to shed off her shoulders. Other sea dragons! Perhaps there were still other sky dragons in the world, too. "Oh! Please pardon my presumption. How many remain?"

The nictitating membranes swept over his enormous eyes as he considered the question. Hard to say. My kind does not need companionship the way sky dragons do. We only come together to mate and exchange information about your kind. At the last great convergence there were many heads.

The mental image he provided was one she couldn't hope to describe adequately. Perhaps a hundred adult sea dragons and a few juveniles swam in lazy circles in the open ocean, enshrouded by glowing energy fields that would have been invisible to human eyes. The spots along their backs blinked with unearthly red light in patterns that were almost certainly some kind of communication. Their energy fields pulsed in a similar manner. They sang ethereal notes that reverberated in the sea.

There was talk of the western pod's good fortune in the survival of almost the entire nest of newborns; spots flickered and energy fields pulsed in congratulations. There was talk of the humans' whaling ventures, and Syldra laughed and said he'd capsized a few of the whaling ships in his territory in the Western Inland Sea. Some of the younger sea dragons approved of this, some of the elders didn't. An elder blinded by parasites scolded Syldra with angrily-pulsing glow spots for his impetuousness, citing the massacres of hundreds of years ago as reason to stay away from humans. Another mental image flitted almost too quickly for Lenna to grasp, that of a skinny human youth limned in starlight and thought of with such great love that she could barely breathe, and Syldra resisted the urge to retort that his human would never think to harm the sea dragons.

The experience ended abruptly as Syldra's head tilted towards the stern of the ship, disorienting her. Lenna had to grip the rail and blink away the lingering sensations a few times before she could ground herself.

Faris says you should go to bed, Syldra relayed, with a distinct sense of exhaustion Lenna suspected was leaching from his partner. We will be at the Wind Shrine in the morning and you should be rested.

"May I ask a few things before you go?" Lenna started, her words threatening to run into each other in the rushed attempt to stop him from swimming away. Who knew when she would again be able to talk to him alone like this?

The skin around Syldra's eye crinkled again and she was sure he read her mind. I can't speak for the sky dragon you want to talk to. They'd been so domesticated since their horns started growing wrong that I'm not sure they had minds by the time they died out. He may also simply be stubborn and holding a grudge.

A little bit of the hope that Lenna had been clinging to faded at his words, and she couldn't quite keep the disappointment from her voice. Once, when she was a child and acting as selfishly as any child, she had made a mistake and tried to hurt her father's dragon. Would it always haunt her? "Oh…"

Syldra craned his head over to nudge the side of her head with his nose in reassurance. The sensory pores and smooth skin between his scales were more prominent this close up. Lenna reached up to scratch at a ribbon of skin in that way she saw Faris do before. Apologize again next time. He may simply be acting out of habit.

"And the girl? I think? Who is she?" The image hadn't been clear; it was a teenager with long, water-logged hair. The features that hadn't been lit by starlight were dark and fuzzy with that aura humans couldn't see.

The great sea dragon gave her one last rub before pulling away. Some secrets aren't mine to share. Goodnight.

Then he walled off his mind and slipped away below the surface of the water, leaving Lenna feeling a little bereft. Well, she supposed she had no more excuses to avoid going to bed.

Once she'd offered apologies to her companions, she laid herself out in the cot that passed as the quartermaster's bed and used the captain's greatcoat as a blanket. At some point while she was drifting off to sleep, faint words washed onto the edge of her consciousness. She's mine. Don't hurt her.

?

I made a mistake, Syldra whispered as his partner changed positions in bed for what felt like the twentieth time that night. A memory of you slipped while I was talking to her.

The memory he shared with her was of Faris from five years ago, hours after she'd dived into the whirlpool that threatened to destroy her ship and crew and nearly drowned in the process. She had just been the quartermaster for all of a few months by then, and Ben's uncle was elected captain after Merrick died. She had been so sure that the whirlpool was going to kill her, but she'd heard a voice in it and had to follow and do something, anything about it.

She found Syldra generating the whirlpool and he screamed at her with all the hurt of unaddressed injustice. Faris screamed back to save her crew. Of course they fell in love and bonded once they burned themselves out, they had the same spirit.

Faris sighed and tried to settle more comfortably on her side. What wouldn't she give for a puff of opium to ease her restlessness right then. "Did she catch on?"

Don't think so.

"Doesn't matter now." An old, poorly-healed crack in her collarbone reminded her of its presence, making her wince and roll over to the other side. Getting a good night's sleep wasn't usually this hard. "We'll deal with whatever happens when it comes up."

Syldra's love washed over her like a balm, easing her mind from her worries and dulling the pains of a lifetime of piracy. Go to sleep.

Sleep came but seconds afterwards.

?

Morning activities on the ship were as follows: Lenna returned the greatcoat, the three guests had a breakfast of hardtack and tea to soften it, and Syldra's harness was hooked up to the ship shortly afterwards. The captain relayed the day's plans to the quartermaster. The quartermaster assigned cleaning and polishing chores as Syldra hauled the ship northwards in a near-breakneck pace. Butz was given a slab of sandstone the quartermaster called a holystone and was sent to help a couple of crewmen with polishing the weather deck, a task he took on without complaint. Galuf was assigned to help repair nets, and his claims of amnesia were useless in getting him out of the chore. Though Lenna was given no assignments, she insisted on helping out and was sent to the lower deck to straighten out the doctor's medicine cabinets.

Lenna thought that she managed very well with straightening out the cabinets and sweeping the lower deck by the time she was called up to join the landing party. Still, she welcomed the breath of fresh air as she climbed up to the weather deck.

Her good mood plummeted when she looked towards land and noticed that the small pier that served the Wind Shrine was smashed by something unnatural. All that remained were the piles. What could have done such damage?

"All aboard that's going ashore," Butz said brightly as she walked up to the little rowboat he was helping one of the crewmen prepare for lowering by the davits set up on the starboard side of the ship. He didn't seem as distant as he was when they met, but still she had the sense that he was just going along with her until they found her father and would be back on his aimless journey a moment afterwards.

Still, she was grateful for his company. Lenna was more grateful that he seemed to expect nothing of her. He showed none of the interest in her that her potential suitors had, nor did he seem to want reward for his aid. Even Galuf had a vested interest in going with Lenna to the Wind Shrine, and he hit his head a little too hard when the meteorite struck.

"Out, gramps," Faris snapped as Galuf started stepping into the boat. "That boat's for the princess."

A corner of Galuf's lips twitched under his moustache, but he couldn't quite keep the amusement from his eyes. "Please. I'm a frail old man."

Faris' eyebrow arched at that. He crossed his arms and glowered. "Not with that build of yours. I'd bet my last gil you're a military man. Out. You'll take the second boat with Klauser and be glad of it."

Galuf harrumphed, but climbed out of the boat anyway. Lenna wondered why she never noticed how strong he was; but then, she never did pay that much attention to men.

"And who rows her to shore, son? You?"

"Captain's privilege." Faris' voice was dry, as if it was a foregone conclusion. He turned and something changed in him that made some dormant thing inside Lenna sit up and take notice. Faris offered her his hand and she could feel heat rising to her face. "Princess?"

In the midmorning light, with stray hair tossed fetchingly by the dragon-generated breeze framing his gracile features and a slight smile that seemed to be just for her, this rough-spoken pirate captain looked positively striking.

Maybe Lenna wasn't completely insensate to attractive men, after all. She took the hand and let herself be helped into the small rowboat, glad that at least no one could see her cheeks go pink from the attention while her back was turned. She settled into one of the two seats in the tiny craft and waited.

As the crewmen turned the davits' cranks and the rowboat lowered, their captain joined her with a fluid, low-centered grace she'd never seen in a man before. Lenna wasn't sure why, but it eased the concern over her understanding of herself that started up ever since she started paying attention to the man. If she was going to start noticing a man now, years after she came to terms with the fact that her adolescent fantasies were only ever filled with women, at least he seemed safe enough.

The captain sat across from her with that stance men so often take, with elbows on his wide-spread knees as he waited for the boat to hit the water.

"You're been very kind," Lenna began, perhaps more awkwardly than she had intended. "You didn't have to be. Thank you."

Faris looked up at her with a thin smile. His sailor's accent was thicker than usual, perhaps intentionally so. "Reckon you've troubles enough. 'Sides, I've words for yer da' and can use yer help."

At least Lenna had practice in keeping her disappointment hidden. Her hands tightened together in her lap. "Whatever you wish, within reason."

"As if I'm ever unreasonable." His thin smile widened into an easy grin.

Lenna couldn't help but smile back as she relaxed and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "You introduced a sea dragon as your brother."

"Point taken."

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but the boat hit the water. He shrugged off whatever it was and turned to unhook the line closest to him. "Think you can get yours?"

Unduly pleased by the request to be helpful, Lenna turned to follow his example. The line was just slack enough that she didn't need to pull too hard to unhook the line from the ring screwed into the structural reinforcement beam she didn't know the name of. If nothing else, this venture exposed the gaps in her education.

As she settled back in her seat, Faris grabbed the mismatched oars before she could even consider reaching for them and slipped them into the round fittings at each side of the boat.

"I can row," Lenna started. She still wanted to be useful, somehow, rather than just let the captain do all the work.

Rather than answer her immediately, Faris braced his boots on the ribs of the boat and tilted the oars in preparation for launch. "You'll navigate, love." Then he winked at her, like they were old friends and not complete strangers just a few days ago. "'Fraid I've a prettier sight afore me than aft an' may end up goin' off course."

Fighting down the blush was a lot harder when he looked at her like that. It was nice, though, to be flirted with and not have that sick feeling at the pit of her stomach the way she usually did when men flirted with her. She murmured her thanks, and in the silence afterwards he angled the oars into the water and started rowing.

Faris was thin. Too thin, in a way that suggested a lifetime of limited access to food. He had strength enough that it didn't seem to matter; the fluidity of his rowing seemed testament enough to that. He kept himself so closely shaved that she never noticed a stubble. Most importantly, though, was that there was something familiar about him. Somehow. Lenna couldn't put a finger on it, but she wondered if it was part of the unusual attraction she had towards him.

"Got a suitor lined up?" he asked at last. They were halfway to shore, to the best of Lenna's estimation. His tone seemed conversational, but his expression revealed probably more interest than he might have wanted showing.

Lenna tried not to chuckle at the complications that might open up. "Oh, no. Father says I'm to marry whom I want, when I want, so long as I'm happy with my choice. With…everything else, it hasn't been a priority."

The reality was that her choices were limited. The number of women who sought out other women for love and companionship were too few, and the gulf between social statuses was likely to be too great to be fair to any woman she chose as her wife. If she chose to sacrifice her happiness so that the court could have a blood heir by her that they would recognize as legitimate, she would be limited to her male cousins. Given that her grandfather fought a war for the right to avoid incest and marry a commoner, it felt a bit disrespectful to wed a nobleman she was almost certain to be related to.

She had spoken of all of this to her father, and he supported her choices either way. He helped her plan out her future without judgment of her desire for other women, had even offered alternatives she hadn't considered. Aside from that one mistake long ago, she could do no wrong in her father's eyes. Her heart ached with worry for him.

Something of her worry must have been plain to Faris, for he pulled harder on the oars and the boat went a little faster. "We'll get you to yer da', love. Ne'er you doubt."

The answering smile was wan, but it seemed like enough for Faris to smile back and focus on his rowing.

They reached the shore in a comfortable silence punctuated only occasionally by course corrections. Faris stepped out of the rowboat and waved away her insistence that she could help, too, as he dragged the little boat just far enough onto the beach for Lenna to step out without getting her shoes wet. She slipped her hand onto Faris' elbow as they waited for the others to figure out how to get to shore.

"They know 'bout yer sword handlin'?" Faris asked in something just above a whisper.

Distracted by the stillness of the air around the Wind Shrine, it took Lenna a moment to register what was asked. "It hasn't come up yet."

Faris chuckled suddenly. It was nice; he didn't do it often enough. "Shame yer a princess. Yer just my type."

She didn't stop herself from a chuckle of her own. The captain seemed to have this effect on her far too often. "Shame you're not a woman."

The answering burst of laughter was louder and lasted longer than she thought it would. As if Lenna touched on something she hadn't expected. Before she could ask about it, Butz and Galuf drew near enough for Faris to stop himself.

They hiked for what felt like hours along the cobblestone road to the Wind Shrine. Lenna kept an eye out for anything unusual, but the only thing that felt off was the lack of wind and the unnatural stillness of a place that had never been without. The leaves of the trees no longer rustled, the birds and jaculi kept quiet in their branches, the wind didn't whistle through the open spaces of its shrine.

All seemed well at the Wind Shrine otherwise, at first. The chocobos belonging to the scholars who spent their time caring for the shrine scratched nervously at the ground and looked up cautiously as Lenna and her party approached. Even they seemed to know that something was terribly wrong. Butz looked like he wanted to stop to reassure them, but Galuf marched straight up the shrine's steps and showed no interest in petting the birds.

The air inside the shrine was much more oppressive, and Lenna could hear things skittering in the shadows. Were she not so concerned for her father, she might have drawn closer to Faris. Then she heard human voices, low and urgent, and peeled away from her entourage with her heart hammering in her chest to follow the voices to a closed-off room.

Past the door, a handful of scholars, the shrinemaidens, and one of her father's ministers turned and brandished an assortment of items that might be generously considered weapons. The closest scholar lowered his heavy book in recognition.

"Princess Lenna!" Eustathios, of the Ministry of Interior, exclaimed. He pushed his way past the scholars to bow to her.

Worry turned to full alarm as she realized that her father was not among them. "What's wrong?"

"The wind stopped suddenly," Eustathios' words almost ran together in his distress. Then he paused for a moment to breathe. "Monsters entered the shrine!"

Dread spiked like ice through Lenna's veins and turned her stomach to lead. She had to ball up her fists in her skirts to keep from wringing her hands. "And what of Father?!"

The minister couldn't quite look her in the eye as he responded. "King Tycoon went up to the top floor, but he hasn't returned."

"Surely something must have gone wrong!" the scholar who had intended to hit her over the head with his book interjected. He looked almost excited by what was probably the most activity he'd seen in years.

So sick with fear for her father was Lenna that she might have fainted. Faris was at her side in a moment, his presence a welcome pillar of support.

"That Crystal's on the top floor." He took her hand in the effort to reassure her. "Let's go."

Lenna didn't have much opportunity to respond. They swept out of the room to make their way up the stairs, Butz and Faris cutting a path through the monsters along the way with sword and dagger. Galuf, being unarmed and still fully capable of using his fists, stayed close to Lenna. As much as she didn't want to appear helpless, she was grateful that no one expected her to join the fray.

By the time they defeated a monstrous bird that seemed determined to make a nest of the third floor, Faris' breathing became pained and shallow. Despite their concern, he snapped at anyone who suggested he sit and rest. Lenna stepped in with her knife a few times, when it was apparent that the captain was having problems breathing, and she was almost thankful that the dark, disgusting ichor of monsters drying on her skin distracted from her distress over her father. She and Butz opened the door to the Crystal room at the top floor, and—

Light streaming in from the high windows and filigreed stonework glinted across clear shards strewn across the tiled floor. Up above the mossy altar, where the Wind Crystal should be hovering, there was nothing. The world ground to a halt as Lenna realized exactly what happened.

In the beginning, there was the Void, the memory of her nursemaid's voice drew to the fore of her mind with its lesson on how their world came to be. Then four spirits filled the Void and the Crystals were born. From them was made the world.

"The Crystal," Lenna started, her voice soft with horror at what they were looking at.

Butz stared down at the shards, just as horrified. "It shattered."

Faris and Galuf said nothing as they joined them in the Crystal's chamber. What could be said? The incarnation of one of the primordial spirits that formed their world laid in shards before them.

They stood together in silent uncertainty for a long moment that felt like eternity. Lenna entertained the silly notion that maybe gluing the shards back together might help, but there were too many small fragments and too much glittering dust. How would she be able to glue dust back together?

"What the—" Butz started. Lenna blinked up at him, and glanced back at the shards when she noticed him staring at them.

The fragments flashed at first, then emitted a steady light. A light that almost burned as it filled the chamber came in from the west and seemed to fill the captain. His breathing no longer sounded pained.

Courage, the Spirit of Fire, something resounded in her head. Whatever it was, it spoke to all of them.

A second light, cool and healing, washed in from the southeast. Lenna's breath caught as it filled her, flooding her with an awareness of herself that she never had before. Devotion, the Spirit of Water.

A third, from the southwest, evoked the scent of sun-warmed soil when it enveloped Galuf. He blinked as if he was on the verge of remembering something. Hope, the Spirit of Earth.

Finally, from where the Wind Crystal should have been, a seed of light appeared, flashed, and buried itself into Butz's chest. By the time he thought to scratch at it, the voice spoke one last time. Inquiry, the Spirit of Wind.

Lenna paid no attention to their reactions; she was numbed by too much stress inflicted too quickly. All she could process was that the Crystals had just chosen their Light Warriors, as they had a few other times in the past. Each time they chose their warriors, it was to prevent catastrophe. Lenna was just nineteen years old. How could she be ready for this?

Her father's voice calling her name roused her from her daze. He appeared like a phantasm as he hovered over the altar, looking almost sickly with lack of sleep. Behind her, Faris made some strangled sound at the sight and stepped up to Lenna's side for a better look.

"Listen well," her father began. His voice sounded so strained and tired that she wanted to reach out to embrace him and carry him home if she had to. "Bearers of the four spirits. You have been chosen as the Four Warriors."

"Father!" She wanted to ask a dozen things, but one seldom thought well when destiny ends up slapping one with a quest. "What do you mean?"

"The Wind Crystal shattered. The other three Crystals may shatter as well. You must protect them. An evil spirit is about to be revived, one who will return everything to darkness."

Then he urged them again to protect the Crystals and passed out. Some dark, malignant aura enshrouded him, drawing him away from her. In her desperation, Lenna clambered up onto the altar, over the machinery that controlled the Crystal and the vines and moss that hid its cables. Her hands shot out and—

And he was gone. Lenna was aware, vaguely, of Faris somewhere behind her urging her to come back. What shook her out of the numbness of the sudden blow of her father disappearing right in front of her was the glitter of a handful of Crystal shards as they moved to surround the small party. Of the shards and dust strewn about, only six offered themselves to the newly minted Light Warriors.

Legend said that the spirits of previous Light Warriors imprinted on the Crystal that chose them. She could feel the gentleness of a nameless white mage in the shard that pressed itself into her palm, and icy regard of the black mage in the shard that claimed her other palm. The healer provided a balm to ease her worries, the destroyer provided fire to drive her.

"The Crystal shards…they're lending us their power?" Butz held two shards in his hands. They seemed to resonate more with him than with the others. Lenna supposed it made sense; the Wind Crystal chose him as its warrior.

Galuf looked distressed as he examined his shard. Lenna wondered what he remembered. Would he even be able to articulate what fragments he recalled? He shook his head and shoved his shard into the folds of the sash around his waist. "In any case, let's get out of here."

Lenna returned to the altar, to where her father had been only moments before. Her heart ached and she desperately wanted not to cry.

"Lenna," Faris began, his hand a warm, gentle weight on her shoulder. He seemed like he wanted to say more, but what could he possibly say to reassure her?

With a bracing breath, and another to help her swallow down the lump in her throat, Lenna descended down the altar steps with Faris' support at her elbow. Her voice was shakier than she liked, but who was going to care? "If I remember correctly, there should be a warp pad behind the altar that will take us outside the temple."

Faris said nothing as his arm looped around her shoulders. She leaned against him to draw strength from him as they shambled, exhausted and dispirited, to the warp pad at the far back of the Crystal's chamber. There were three other Crystals to protect. Would they be able to get to them in time?


Language notes:
- Faris speaks very roughly, like you'd expect her to mug you in a dark alley. This was educational when I was younger and learning colloquial Japanese, but it can get a bit dense and difficult to translate sometimes. West Country hodgepodge is being used to reflect this.
- There's a neat point in that the word used for Lenna's light warrior trait is いたわり, which, yes, is usually glossed into Devotion or Kindness. However, there's a deliberateness to it that reflects how hard she worked at being kind. I appreciate that because before her mother died, it wasn't a trait of hers and she had to work at it.
- Butz's light warrior trait is 探求, which has been translated to Search, Quest, Curiosity, Passion, and others. None of it's actually wrong, and me going with Inquiry is just a matter of personal taste.

Background notes:
- Calendar year is a nod to Legend of the Crystals.
- Lenna taught herself the sword. It's mentioned in multiple books.
- Syldra's background and history is given in the book Basic Knowledge, his 1992 trading card, and the preliminary notes in the Ultimania Archive say that he was intended to turn on the gang.
- The book Basic Knowledge has a lovely 2-page spread on the sky dragons, how they bonded to humans and when they started, and why their populations collapsed.
Finally, thanks to my girlfriend and Airam for looking this over. You're both fantastic.