The bazaar of Rabanastre was alive with heat and color. The morning sun poured through sandstone arches, painting the city in gold, while the air hummed with voices — merchants calling, hawkers bargaining, children weaving through the crowd.
For the first time in days, Clive's party wasn't marching to battle. They walked like ordinary travelers, though no one looking at them would mistake them for common folk.
---
Serah was the first to get distracted, darting toward a stall draped in cloth. "Mog! Look at this scarf! Imagine how cute you'd look with it tied around your pom-pom."
Mog folded his tiny arms, pom-pom bouncing furiously. "I'm nyot a doll, kupo! I'm a warrior!"
"You'd be a stylish warrior," Serah teased, looping the scarf around his head.
The moogle sputtered, wings flapping. "Clive, help me! This is nyot dignity!"
Clive smirked, hands folded over his chest. "You'll never win this fight, Mog. Easier to surrender."
Mog gasped, his ears drooping dramatically. "Et tu, Clive? Betrayal, kupo!"
Serah laughed so hard she nearly dropped the scarf. Luna smiled faintly, her hand covering her lips as if to keep her laughter gentle.
---
At a nearby stall, Vivi's glowing eyes peeked from under his wide hat as he studied a spread of charms and talismans. Each was etched with small runes.
"Do… people here use these for magick?" he asked, voice soft but eager.
The merchant bent down, blinking at Vivi's small form. Surprise flashed across his face, but his tone was kind. "Charms for caravans, little one. Against storms, bandits, misfortune. They don't throw lightning like your kind of spells, but they give folk hope."
Vivi brushed a gloved finger over one charm. "They feel… gentler than what I know."
Serah walked over, smiling warmly. "Maybe you should get one. A good-luck charm for the best little mage I know."
Vivi ducked deeper under his hat, embarrassed. "I… maybe."
Behind them, Auron muttered, "Luck's an illusion. Better to sharpen your blade."
Luna's serene voice answered him. "Not everything is solved with steel, Auron. Some people carry faith because it's lighter than a sword."
He smirked faintly. "Steel doesn't break under doubt."
Clive gave a low chuckle. "But it rusts."
Even Auron's eye narrowed as though conceding the point.
---
They paused later by a fountain where children splashed, laughter ringing like bells.
Clive leaned against the stone rim, his greatsword propped at his side. "Feels strange not to look over our shoulders."
Serah stretched, sunlight catching her pink hair. "Strange, but nice. We've earned it."
Auron stood nearby, arms folded, watching the children play. "Breaks don't last. Don't get soft."
Serah rolled her eyes. "Do you ever just enjoy the moment?"
Auron's lips tugged into a thin smirk. "This is me enjoying it."
Serah blinked, then burst out laughing. Even Clive shook his head in disbelief.
Vivi sat cross-legged by the fountain, his eyes thoughtful. "Do you think Amalia and her people made it back safe?"
"They did," Luna said with quiet certainty. "She has the bearing of one born to lead. Her men would die for her without hesitation."
Clive frowned, remembering her calm under fire, her hidden sword. "She's no ordinary healer."
"Princess," Auron said simply.
The others stared, but he gave no more.
Serah hugged her knees. "Whoever she is, she fought bravely. Without her, Vulturo might've escaped again."
Vivi's gaze lowered. "She was brave in a way I don't think I could be."
Clive met his eyes. "You underestimate yourself. Without your spells, we wouldn't have survived."
Vivi blinked, then gave a small, shy smile.
As they talked, a boy no older than ten sat on a nearby step, eyes wide, watching them. He clutched a wooden toy sword, his lips parted in awe. To him, they looked like heroes out of stories.
Serah noticed him and gave a little wave. The boy's cheeks reddened, and he scrambled away, giggling nervously.
Not long after, Clive's sharp eyes caught something else — a hooded man lingering too long near the market's edge, gaze fixed on their group. When their eyes met, the man turned and vanished into the crowd.
Clive said nothing. Some eyes belonged to curiosity. Others to shadow.
That evening, the tavern's torches glowed warm, and the smell of roasted meat filled the air. Their table was loudest, laughter cutting through the din.
Platters of food arrived. Vivi's glowing eyes widened, and Mog licked his lips.
"You're nyot beating me this time, kupo!" Mog shouted, grabbing a loaf of bread.
"Too late," Vivi mumbled, already chewing, crumbs flying.
The eating contest began in earnest.
Serah leaned forward, laughing so hard she had to cover her face. "You two—! You're going to choke!"
Clive leaned back, smirking. "At least they'll die happy."
Luna shook her head with a soft smile. "I'll heal them if they do."
Even Auron smirked faintly over his cup. "Two fools racing to the grave. Fitting."
When both finally slumped over the table, bellies full and crumbs everywhere, Mog groaned, "Tie. Nyot conceding, kupo."
Vivi chuckled weakly. "Truce, then."
Serah laughed until tears spilled down her cheeks. Luna's shoulders trembled with quiet amusement. Clive let out a rare laugh, deep and genuine.
They talked long into the night.
Serah teased Clive about almost falling into the sand during the wolf fight. "You looked like you were dancing!"
Clive groaned. "I was trying not to sink. There's a difference."
"Sure," Serah said, smirking.
Vivi asked Auron about his sword style. "It's… different. Heavy, but precise."
Auron leaned back, his voice low. "Because every strike costs energy. You don't waste what you can't get back."
The boy nodded thoughtfully, eyes wide.
Luna quietly reflected aloud. "We're different people, from different places, yet together we've endured what would break others."
Serah grinned. "And laughed through it."
Mog burped, raising a paw. "And ate through it, kupo."
The whole table erupted in laughter again.
Outside, the hooded man slipped through the shadows of the alley. From a distance, he watched the glowing window where the laughter spilled out. His expression was unreadable. Then, as footsteps approached, he melted back into the crowd.
Inside, the laughter carried on, bright and unbroken, as if the world's shadows had no place among them.