The trinkets pulsed with their steady glow, the threads humming faintly across worlds. Sirius' voice broke the silence, calm but pointed.
"So, Reks… where does Vaan usually spend his time?"
Reks' breath caught. He hesitated for only a moment before answering, voice laced with memory. "He's never still. If he's not in the markets, chasing after scraps, then he's in Lowtown beneath the city. And if not there…" His words softened, the edge of a bittersweet smile on them. "He'll be on the rooftops, staring at the skies, dreaming of airships."
Sirius nodded slowly, though unseen. "The markets. Lowtown. The rooftops. Then that is where I will begin."
Reks exhaled shakily, clutching the haft of his axe. "Then… you'll see him. You'll really see him."
Instead of replying directly, Sirius reached toward the trinket's core. His fingers brushed the magic threaded into it, and the glow flared. Group call, his voice echoed in their minds, calm and resonant. Let all of you see what I see.
Light flared across the bond, then the vision opened.
The five in Eorzea gasped almost in unison as Dalmasca bloomed before their eyes.
The camera of Sirius' vision swept over Rabanastre's grand bazaar, where white stone towers gleamed under the desert sun. Banners snapped in the hot wind, painted in blues and golds. Merchants bellowed prices, waving exotic spices under the noses of passing customers. Children darted between stalls, their laughter mixing with the clang of smiths hammering steel.
Zack whistled low. "Now that's a city. Bigger than Ul'dah, maybe even louder."
Aerith pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. "It's… beautiful. Alive. The colors, the people…"
Galuf barked a laugh. "Hah! Reminds me of Bal… well, another place. A market's a market, no matter the world."
Noctis squinted at the stonework, his voice low. "…It's not like Insomnia. But it feels just as proud."
And then there was Reks. He had gone utterly still, the vision flooding him with a hundred memories. His chest heaved once, then again, and he whispered hoarsely, "Dalmasca… I'm seeing it again. My home." His eyes stung, though he blinked the tears away quickly. "The bazaar… the airships above… gods, I thought I'd never—" His voice broke, and he clutched the trinket tightly. "Thank you, Sirius."
The vision tilted downward, showing Lowtown's shadowed entryways—stone arches leading into the hidden veins beneath the city. Ragged cloths hung over the passages, and weary eyes peered out from the shade.
Aerith's breath caught. "It's… so different down there. So much pain, hidden right beneath all that life."
Galuf frowned, rubbing his chin. "Aye. Every kingdom's got its underbelly. Nothin' new, but still ugly to see."
Reks' jaw tightened, his voice heavier now. "That's where Vaan used to run, when the surface world turned its back. He never let it cage him, though. He'd climb… always climb higher."
As if answering him, the vision swept up. The rooftops of Rabanastre sprawled beneath the sky, dotted with children darting across the tiles. From here, the whole city stretched out—a patchwork of stone, dust, and hope beneath the endless horizon.
Reks laughed softly through the bond, though his voice trembled. "There. That's where he'll be. Always staring at the skies, like he belongs up there."
Noctis muttered under his breath, "Sounds like someone I'd get along with."
Zack grinned. "Kid sounds like a dreamer. My kind of guy."
Aerith smiled faintly. "He sounds like hope."
The faint glow of the trinkets dimmed, flickering like candlelight struggling against the wind. Sirius glanced down at his own, the shimmer reflecting in his calm, unreadable eyes. "Hmm," he murmured, almost to himself. "It seems the trinket's power is still not enough for a long video call."
The image of Rabanastre wavered before fading entirely, leaving only faint impressions of people and stone walls that dissolved into static light. The five stared at their trinkets, faces a mixture of awe and frustration.
"Great," Zack muttered, lowering his arm. "Just when I was starting to enjoy the view of Dalmasca, too. I barely got a glimpse before it fuzzed out."
Aerith tilted her head, her trinket resting gently in her hands like it might break if she squeezed too tightly. "That wasn't magic, was it? The way it connected us?"
Sirius shook his head. "No. The trinkets don't draw from your magic. Their power is different—an energy source separate from mana. That way, you can't abuse them by constantly pouring magic into them, and you won't risk being defenseless in battle." He fixed his gaze on each of them in turn. "Think about it. If your magic were drained and Chaos appeared before you… would you win without it?"
The group fell into a weighted silence.
Zack broke it first, scratching the back of his neck. "…Yeah, I'd rather not test that theory."
Noctis let out a sharp breath, his expression grim. "Makes sense. These things are lifelines, not toys."
Galuf, however, wasn't satisfied. He tapped the trinket against his palm, his eyes narrowing with the wisdom of an old soldier. "Then how do we make them stronger? How do we push the range and keep them from sputtering out like that?"
For once, Sirius smiled faintly, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Materials."
Galuf blinked. "Materials?"
"Orichalcum. Adamantine." Sirius' tone was matter-of-fact, like he was naming simple iron or steel. "Those will increase the trinkets' resonance. There should be veins and fragments of both in Eorzea. You can ask the people there. Rare, yes, but not impossible. In fact, you should already know—there's always a black market shop or an auction where such things pass through."
The silence that followed was deafening.
"…WHAT?!" The five erupted in unison, their voices overlapping.
Aerith's mouth hung open, her trinket almost slipping from her hands. "You can't be serious. Orichalcum? Adamantine? People don't just sell those! That's the kind of stuff bards write songs about, not something you casually pick up from a market stall!"
Zack threw his arms in the air, laughing in disbelief. "What's next? A guy in Ul'dah hawking orichalcum on the street corner? 'Step right up, rare metals, half off today!'"
Galuf barked a laugh, though it was tinged with exasperation. "Super rare, Sirius. Super rare. I've crossed continents, fought tyrants, seen whole kingdoms rise and fall—and even I've never laid hands on a shard of orichalcum. And you're telling us to just… pop into a black market for it?"
Sirius only raised an eyebrow. "Do you doubt me?"
The five exchanged glances, caught between wanting to shout yes and knowing Sirius wouldn't joke about this.
Noctis was the first to break the silence, his tone flat but edged with curiosity. "If it exists here, it means someone's smuggling it, mining it, or protecting it. Which means it's not just a story." His eyes darkened, already calculating. "But that also means someone powerful controls it."
Reks frowned, the weight of memory pressing into his young features. "In Dalmasca, adamantine was practically a myth. Veterans would laugh whenever recruits asked about it. 'A smith's dream,' they called it. Nothing more." His voice grew softer. "But… if Sirius says it's real in Eorzea, then maybe it's not just a dream."
Zack leaned back against a rock, groaning. "So now we've got to keep one eye out for dragons, bandits, or creepy Chaos agents, and the other eye open for a rock that barely exists. Fantastic. No pressure."
Aerith pressed a finger to her lips, thinking. "But imagine if we could find it. The trinkets would never flicker out again. We could talk, see, hear each other… no matter how far apart we are." She smiled faintly, her voice soft. "That kind of bond would mean everything."
Her words settled on the group like sunlight piercing a cloud.
Galuf grunted, though his eyes softened. "By the Twelve, she's right. Stronger trinkets would make us more than scattered souls—we'd be a unit, no matter the world."
"Still doesn't make the metals any less impossible to find," Zack muttered.
"Not impossible," Sirius corrected. "Simply… difficult. And worth it."
---
The banter grew, drifting into exaggerated theories.
"I bet," Zack said, pointing dramatically at the horizon, "we'll have to slay some mega-dragon hoarding adamantine under a volcano."
Aerith giggled, shaking her head. "Or maybe it's hidden in a flower that only blooms once every thousand years."
"Pah!" Galuf barked, crossing his arms. "Back in my world, legends said orichalcum was hidden deep in ancient ruins, cursed by guardians who never slept. You'd sooner die of exhaustion before you touched it."
Noctis smirked faintly. "You all sound like kids telling ghost stories. Still… if it's in an auction or black market, it's probably sitting in someone's vault right now, gathering dust."
Reks' eyes widened. "Wait… what if Kuja had some?!"
Everyone froze.
Then Zack groaned. "Great. As if he wasn't already creepy enough. Now I've got to picture him polishing an orichalcum dagger in his spare time."
Aerith covered her mouth, laughing despite herself. "I… can actually see that."
Even Galuf chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, if Kuja's involved, maybe we'll just let Sirius handle that one."
For the first time in what felt like ages, they all laughed together. Not forced, not brittle, but genuine laughter that carried the weight of their shared survival.
---
The laughter faded, but the curiosity remained, burning quietly in their chests.
Aerith looked down at her glowing trinket, her thumb brushing the surface as though it were alive. "If orichalcum and adamantine are here, then… maybe we really can keep these bonds strong. Maybe… maybe it means Sirius believes we'll need them even more."
Her words settled over them, heavier than before.
Noctis clenched his trinket tighter. "Then we find it. No matter what. If it exists, we'll make it ours."
The group nodded one by one, even Zack, who groaned theatrically but grinned in the end.
Sirius said nothing more, watching their determination take root. The threads of fate shimmered faintly around them, tugged by their choices, their laughter, their resolve.
And somewhere beyond the stars, Chaos stirred.