The heat of Rabanastre pressed down like an anvil. Clive wiped his brow with the back of his hand, squinting at the bustling markets, the banners fluttering in the desert wind, and the strange races that moved freely among men. Every step felt unreal, as though he walked in a waking dream.
Sirius, who had lingered at his side in silence, finally spoke.
"Clive." His voice was calm, yet carried a note of finality. "I leave you to it now. Explore the kingdom on your own, and begin your training. This world will shape you in ways your old one could not."
Clive turned, confusion flashing across his face. "Alone?"
"Not alone," Sirius corrected. "The trinket binds you to the others. When you need counsel, reach out. If the sun proves too harsh, ask Aerith to guide you. She has mastered the magic barrier—it will shield you from heat, cold, even storm. Learn from her."
Clive glanced down at the charm against his chest, still glowing faintly. He let out a long breath and gave a firm nod. "Very well. If I am to survive in this place, I'll adapt."
A faint smile touched Sirius' lips, gone as quickly as it appeared. "Good."
Then his form shimmered, fading until only his voice remained. "Do not waste this chance, Clive Rosfield."
The marketplace swallowed Clive in its noise once more. He tightened his grip on the trinket, shoulders set. A soldier once bound by fate, now left to carve his path in a new kingdom.
---
Far away, across the bond, Sirius' presence shifted. His voice turned quieter, directed at one thread in particular.
"Reks," he said.
The young man's breath caught in surprise. "Y-yes?"
Sirius' tone softened. "Do you wish to see your brother?"
There was silence, broken only by the faint hum of the trinket link. Then Reks spoke, his voice trembling despite his effort to sound steady.
"My brother… Vaan," he whispered. "I thought I'd never hear his name again. He's young, reckless, always dreaming of the skies. When I fell in Rabanastre, I… I left him behind. Not a day has passed that I haven't wondered if he hates me for it. If he thinks I abandoned him."
The bond pulsed, carrying the weight of his sorrow across worlds.
Sirius' voice remained gentle but unwavering. "The threads of fate are cruel, Reks. But they are not unbreakable. Clive now walks in your world. If destiny allows, he may find your brother."
Reks swallowed hard. "If he does… tell him—no. I want to tell him myself. Someday. Somehow."
Galuf's voice broke in suddenly, rough but kind. "Aye, lad. Don't carry the weight of silence. If you've got words for your kin, hold onto 'em tight. You'll see him again."
Zack's tone followed, upbeat but softened by sympathy. "Heh. Guess we've all got people we left behind, huh? Reks, you'll get your chance. Bet on it."
Aerith's voice was gentler still, a thread of warmth. "Love between family doesn't fade. Even if he's angry, even if he's hurt… your brother's heart will know the truth when he hears it from you."
Reks bowed his head, unseen in Limsa Lominsa's training grounds, gripping the haft of his axe. "Thank you. All of you. I'll fight harder… so that one day, I can face him again."
The trinkets pulsed together, threads tightening, a web of fate stretching across worlds.
And Sirius, watching it all, thought to himself: Even the heaviest burdens can be shared. That is why I brought them together.
The bond shimmered, Sirius' voice steady as ever.
"Reks," he said again, "do you truly wish to see your brother?"
Reks' grip on his axe tightened. His heart ached at the thought. "…Yes. More than anything. But how? He's there, and I'm here. I can't just walk across worlds."
Galuf's chuckle rumbled through the link. "That's the trouble, isn't it? Wantin' to see kin, but not knowin' how to bridge the gap."
Sirius answered calmly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "There is a way. The trinkets carry more than voice. They can project vision. You can call one another with video."
Silence.
Then all five voices rang out together.
"WHAT?!"
Zack's voice broke first, incredulous. "You mean to tell me this thing's been a phone this whole time and you didn't think to mention it?!"
Aerith gasped, half laughing, half annoyed. "Sirius! That would have been… very helpful to know earlier!"
Noctis muttered, deadpan, "Figures. You'd keep that from us."
Galuf barked a laugh. "By the Twelve, man, you've had us talkin' into these stones like fools when we could've been seein' each other's faces?"
Reks nearly dropped his axe, caught between disbelief and nervous laughter. "Wait—so I could… I could see Vaan? Right now?"
Sirius paused, then sighed with a faint smile in his tone. "Ah. Must have slipped my mind."
The uproar was immediate.
"Slipped your mind?!" Zack exploded.
Aerith giggled despite herself, covering her mouth. "Only you, Sirius…"
Galuf was still laughing so hard his words broke. "Slipped his mind, he says! Hah!"
Noctis exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Unbelievable."
Through it all, the trinkets pulsed with warmth, carrying not just connection but the first spark of shared laughter since Alexandria's fall.
And for Reks, standing in Limsa Lominsa with tears still burning his eyes, the idea that he might truly see his brother again made his chest ache with hope.
Sirius' voice deepened, pressing through the bond like a hand resting firmly on Reks' shoulder.
"I haven't heard your answer, Reks. Yes or no? Do you truly want to see your brother?"
The question hung heavy in the silence. Reks' heart hammered against his ribs. His throat tightened with memories of Vaan — the boy's grin, his reckless dreams, the last time they'd spoken before war stole everything away.
There was no hesitation. "Yes," Reks said immediately, his voice rough but unwavering. "Yes, I want to see him. No matter what it takes."
The trinket pulsed warmly in response, as though sealing his vow.
Zack whistled low. "There's our answer."
Aerith smiled softly, her voice like a breeze. "Then let's help him make it happen."
Galuf grinned. "That's the spirit, lad. No point in holdin' back when the heart knows what it wants."
Noctis simply nodded. "…Then it's settled."
Sirius' tone softened, but carried quiet satisfaction. "Good. Then it will be done."