The canyon lay silent after the battle, its walls scarred with claw marks and its floor strewn with ash. The Five had gone their separate ways before dawn, slipping back into the wilds like shadows. No one asked why. They all knew: the fewer who saw them together, the safer the truth remained.
But silence did not last long.
By morning, rumors spread faster than wildfire. A merchant caravan stumbled across the battlefield at first light, their chocobos panicking at the scent of burned aether. They returned to Ul'dah breathless, swearing that a monster "the size of a house" had clawed its way out of the canyon, only to be beaten back by five strangers.
"A Paladin!" one merchant cried in the bazaar. "He fought with a greatsword, holy fire in every swing!"
"No, it was the healer who saved them," another argued. "A White Mage whose light could heal a broken arm in an instant!"
"Fools," scoffed a caravan guard, thumping his tankard. "I saw the Monk with my own eyes, fists flying like hammers!"
Before long, the tale grew. Some swore the Dragoon leapt so high he pierced the moon. Others claimed the Warrior's shield stopped a mountain from falling.
The details were muddled, contradictory, even absurd — but every retelling agreed on one thing: five nameless adventurers had stood against an impossible beast.
---
In Ul'dah, Galuf overheard the rumors spilling through the taverns. He laughed into his mug, the foam spilling over his beard. "Heh. If only they knew the Monk they're praising has knees that creak worse than the floorboards." He raised his drink anyway. "To the legends, eh?"
In Gridania, Aerith passed through the markets with her staff hidden under a cloth. Children whispered about the White Mage who sang to the stars. She smiled softly but said nothing, slipping into the crowd.
On the coast, Reks stood with the waves lapping at his boots, hearing sailors spin tales of a Warrior who fought like a wall of steel. He didn't correct them. He only stared out to sea, the memory of shattered shields heavy on his back.
---
The Guildmasters gathered in secret.
Jenlyns leaned forward at the council table, armored hands folded tight. "There is no doubt. Those five who stood against the fused beast in the trial—they have returned."
E–Sumi–Yan's expression was unreadable, his voice soft but firm. "Their aetheral signatures align. A Paladin, a White Mage, a Monk, a Dragoon, and a Warrior. It cannot be coincidence."
Hamon Holyfist slammed a fist on the table, grinning despite the tension. "Hah! I knew that old fool Galuf wouldn't stay quiet. I'd recognize those fists anywhere."
Ywain frowned, fingers drumming the wood. "But why hide? Why vanish after the battle? Why not stand before the people as champions?"
Wyrnzoen's voice rumbled like distant thunder. "Perhaps they know something we do not. Perhaps the monster was more than it seemed."
Silence followed. The thought hung heavy, unspoken but shared. None dared utter the word Chaos. But each felt the chill of it.
---
Elsewhere, the named groups began to hear the whispers.
The Dawn Blades huddled in a tavern in Thanalan, their mugs untouched. Rufan leaned across the table, voice hushed. "Did you hear? They say a Paladin fought a monster in the canyon. With a greatsword."
Daren's knuckles whitened around his mug. "Zack…"
Mira shook her head sharply. "Impossible. He was just a mercenary. Reckless, loud. He wasn't—he couldn't—"
Selia's voice was softer, but firm. "Couldn't he?"
---
In the Shroud, the Petal Veil walked beneath the trees. Kaia's dancer bells jingled nervously. "A White Mage, they say. She healed whole battalions. Aerith…"
Rowena scoffed, though her eyes betrayed unease. "She was gentle. A conjurer-in-training, no more. This is a children's tale."
But Princess Elira said nothing. She stared at the stars through the canopy, the memory of Aerith's smile still bright in her mind.
---
In Ul'dah, the Iron Old Guard nursed their mugs. Odrin chuckled dryly. "They say the Monk roared with laughter even as he broke the beast's bones. Sounds familiar."
Kaelen grunted. "Galuf."
Torvik shook his head. "And yet, if it were true, why did he leave us? Why vanish without word?"
Kaelen drained his mug. "Because that's what old soldiers do."
---
At the edge of Gridania, the Twilight Bond stood together. Serenya's carbuncle shimmered faintly, her hands restless. "A Dragoon, leaping like fire. Noctis…"
Alaren frowned. "We barely knew him. He never even told us who he was. And yet…"
Serenya finished softly, "…and yet it feels like him."
---
By the shore, the Ember Wings argued heatedly.
Kiel slammed his fist into the table. "A Warrior with axe and shield—who else but Reks?"
Tressa crossed her arms. "Don't be stupid. He was quiet, a soldier, not some hero."
Lyra's eyes narrowed, voice sharp. "He fought like no one I've seen before. You felt it too."
Cynra whispered, clutching her staff. "If it was him… then he's already walking where we can't follow."
---
The rumors grew, weaving through every hall and kingdom. Some dismissed them as tavern tales. Others swore by them. But the seed had been planted.
Five nameless adventurers. A Paladin, a White Mage, a Monk, a Dragoon, and a Warrior.
The Guildmasters knew. The named groups suspected. The kingdoms whispered.
Only Sirius and the Five themselves knew the full truth—that what the people had seen was not just a monster, but a fragment of Chaos loosed upon the world.
And somewhere deep beneath the earth, the Chaos agent stirred, its body reforming in the dark, its hunger growing.
The first battle had ended. But the war was only beginning.