The sun was still low over Narshe, washing the stone foundations of the settlement in pale gold as Moss guided Bran along the familiar ridgelines. His chest throbbed faintly, a subtle pulse that reminded him of the titan's presence, stronger than it had ever been. The Eidolon's influence was drawing near, a silent pull urging caution. Moss adjusted the reins gently, aware of the weight of it pressing at the edge of his awareness. Today, they would return to the camp proper, back to the trainees, the stables, and the quiet bustle of normal life.
Serra walked beside him, almost vibrating with quiet excitement. Her device, now familiar in Moss's hand, hummed softly with residual energy, recording the faint aetheric ripples left behind in the forest the day before. She looked at Moss with sparkling eyes. "The reactions… it's incredible. The pulse you carry, the way it interacts with wild aether, it's unlike anything I've ever recorded. Even in the empire, working with the crystals… nothing behaves like this. Nothing responds so dynamically."
Moss guided Bran down a gentle slope, keeping his voice calm. "I felt it too. The pulse is stronger. I don't understand why, but it's… it's there."
Serra laughed softly, excitement bubbling in her tone. "Stronger? That's perfect! That's exactly what I wanted to see." She crouched slightly, placing the device near the forest floor. "I think the earlier readings were just… surface, level reactions. But this, this is a full resonance. Your presence… the stress, the energy, everything, the forest itself is responding. It's… fascinating!"
Moss watched the forest, scanning for familiar markers. His eyes lingered on the distant edge where the trees thickened. "We need to be careful. Whatever's happening, it's not just the readings. Something else is… paying attention. I can feel it."
Bran's talons clicked softly against the stone path as they approached the outskirts of the settlement. The trainees were already gathering near the stables, the morning chill raising goosebumps on their arms. Moss could see the tension etched on their faces, the way their hands gripped reins and whips, their mounts fidgeting in anticipation.
Rynne adjusted her saddle nervously, her eyes darting toward Moss. Even after the previous day's disappearance, her unease lingered subtley, but enough for Moss to notice. Her nerves betrayed her confidence, though she tried to mask it with stiff movements.
"She's still uneasy," Serra observed, her eyes tracking the girl's every subtle motion. "But it's improving. That's progress in itself."
Moss nodded, keeping his gaze steady on the riders. "Don't comment on it," he murmured. "Let them work through it naturally."
Dole came up behind them, the sound of his boots tapping the stone path noticeable despite the soft morning air. "Still training these little birds, huh?" he said, leaning lazily against a post. "I swear, Moss, you've got more patience than a saint."
Lyra's lips twitched in amusement. "He has patience that's how he's still friends with you." She said quietly, already adjusting a small brace on her staff. The training needs to be exact."
Moss dismounted, leading Bran to a soft area near the stables. The trainees were beginning their exercises on the obstacle course, a series of ridgelines, fallen logs, and small gaps carved into the terrain for controlled jumps.
Rynne hesitated at the first hurdle, her chocobo's muscles tensing, ears flicking nervously. Moss stepped forward, his hand gently resting on the reins. "Lean with the movement. Don't fight it. You're not alone," he said quietly.
Rynne's eyes flicked up to meet his for a brief moment before returning to her mount. Her cheeks were flushed, but she tightened her grip and guided her chocobo over the obstacle. Moss stepped back, satisfied, watching the other trainees with quiet attention.
Serra crouched beside him, pointing at the small undulations in the dirt and the faint energy readings the device detected. "See this?" she whispered. "Even the slightest hesitation in your pulse, your aether, causes measurable disturbances. It's like… like the ground itself is mirroring your energy. If we can understand the pattern, we might predict the areas where wild aether will spike. You… your presence is an entirely new variable."
Moss nodded slowly. "So, we're testing my aether's instincts. Let it balance out first with the recent changes. Don't force changes to happen in me we already saw what can happen when it's used."
Serra's eyes sparkled with mischief as she glanced at him. "You're no fun."
Dole chuckled from behind, elbowing Moss again. "Your little rookie is looking pretty pouty right now with you so close to Serra all the time recently."
Moss gave a quiet shrug, walking Bran toward the water trough. "She's paying attention to the riding. That's all."
Lyra smirked, covering her mouth in a faint haughty gesture. "Is that what you call it?" she whispered, her tone light. "All that focus on riding…"
Moss only shook his head, ignoring the teasing.
Rynne's ears flicked, a subtle motion betraying her emotions. She adjusted her reins once more, forcing her posture to remain correct, though she was clearly aware of the subtle glances cast toward Moss and Bran.
Serra's grin widened as she crouched over her device again. "If the energy from the previous encounter is spreading… we might be able to track the next anomalies. Like a… like a chain reaction. I've seen something similar in volcanic activity in the records from the empire, but nothing behaves like this. If this keeps scaling, we could be observing a new kind of aetheric pattern entirely. Or it could be a natural disaster waiting to happen." She smiled broadly, almost as if world, ending events were a thrilling opportunity. "And that's the beauty of it. Theory or reality, either way, we learn."
Moss's chest tightened slightly at the pulse, faint but insistent. "Stay focused on the trainees," he murmured. "The rest… we'll handle as it comes."
The morning wore on, and the riders progressed through the obstacle course. Moss moved between them, offering subtle advice to each trainee. His voice was calm, precise, and rarely raised, yet the words carried weight.
"Keep your legs soft," he said to a young boy navigating a tricky ridge. "Don't try to control every movement. Feel the chocobo beneath you."
The boy's eyes widened, nodding, and his chocobo adjusted its steps instinctively. Moss smiled faintly, stepping aside to let the next rider continue.
Rynne approached the final obstacle, her movements noticeably steadier than before, though she still flinched at every sudden movement. Moss observed silently, noting the improvements.
"Don't overthink it," he murmured. "Ride the moment."
Her eyes flicked to his, the unspoken question clear: How can he remain so calm after everything? Moss offered nothing but a small nod. No explanation. No grand speech. His calmness was enough.
Dole leaned against a nearby post, arms crossed, a faint smirk on his face. "You know, Moss, the kid's got spirit. She's… persistent. Bet she doesn't let go easily."
Lyra chuckled softly, adjusting a strap on her staff. "If only she realized persistence alone won't get you through everything."
Serra crouched near Moss, watching the course. "I still can't believe how reactive your aether is," she whispered. "Even when you're calm, it radiates through everything. It's subtle… but detectable. Almost like a spark in the ground reacting to your mere thoughts of action."
Moss glanced at her without moving, letting the observation sink in. "That's… what it is," he said quietly. "Just… a reaction. Nothing more."
Hours passed with similar patterns: training, quiet observation, and Serra jotting notes or analyzing the subtle energy fluctuations in the terrain.
Eventually, the trainees tired, their mounts needing water and rest. Moss led them back to the stables. The girls and boys dismounted, brushing their chocobos and checking gear. Rynne lingered near Moss, hesitant.
"You… are you okay?," she said quietly, voice tinged with awe.
Moss studied her for a moment before replying. "Everyone has worries thanks for asking but it's manageable."
Rynne nodded, her gaze dropping to the ground, her ears flicking nervously.
Dole, Lyra, and Serra watched quietly, exchanging small smirks and nods. The camp was alive, the chocobos chirping softly, the morning sun casting a gentle warmth over Narshe.
By mid, afternoon, Moss led Bran and the remaining riders through a small course of combined jumps and scouting exercises. Serra stayed close, her notes and device tracking faint ripples in the energy around them. She whispered excitedly from time to time, theorizing about tectonic shifts and other natural disasters, all comparisons meant to understand Moss's aetheric pulse, even if wildly inaccurate.
Finally, as the sun began its descent, the group gathered near the main stable area. Serra leaned on her knees, catching her breath, a wide grin plastered across her face. "Fieldwork… it's terrifying. But it's amazing. The readings… everything… I've never been so excited in my life!"
Moss guided Bran to a halt near the water trough. "It's over for today. Rest the mounts and yourselves. We'll resume tomorrow."
Rynne dismounted, her face flushed from exertion. She gave a small bow to Moss. "Thank you… for your guidance."
Moss inclined his head slightly. "You did well. That's all I can ask."
Lyra and Dole exchanged quiet looks, both sensing the tension in the air, the subtle changes in bonds.
As evening approached, Serra remained by Moss, poring over the device and discussing each observation in breathless, excited tones. Moss let her, quietly appreciating her dedication, while Rynne watched from a distance jealous; her emotions tangled in envy and curiosity.
Finally, the group settled for the night. Moss, as always, took a moment to observe the settlement, feeling the distant tremor in his chest. Serra's device hummed faintly beside him, signaling the faintest pulse of energy lingering from the morning's exercises.
The night was quiet, save for the soft clucking of chocobos and the wind rustling through the ridgelines. Moss rested lightly, yet the pulse persisted, a reminder that what lay ahead was far from over. Serra, eyes bright and restless, remained close.
And somewhere in the distance, unnoticed by anyone, the crystal within the empire, yellow, brown, cracked, and vibrating faintly, shifted subtly, as if responding to the resonance of forces far beyond its walls.