Once again, you wake up to the sound of your mother’s armor-- a frustrating disturbance that reminds you of one of the biggest reasons you moved out in the first place. This time, you go for a walk to help to clear your head. When you go to grab your grimoire, you notice that the golden choker you gave Erden has had its chain broken. Maybe due to poor material usage, but you swear it almost looks like a cut.

Since it serves a practical combat function for him, you decide it’d be best to simply get it repaired for him now and ask about it later. The fastest route to the goldsmith’s guild is blocked off by several brass blades who have sectioned off part of the city as a crime scene. A common sight in Ul’dah, though the crime committed is anything but.

In the early hours of the morning long before the sun arose, a figure shrouded in darkness ran through the streets after Fyrgeiss, the chairman who fined you last night. In doing so, he not only killed the chairman himself, but also two brass blades who were charged with escorting him.

Reportedly, the individual in question was so obscured by the shadows that no traces of their identity could be seen through their thick veil, save the fact that they are capable of bleeding, as one of the guards managed to land a cut by swinging wildly at them. A small victory, but it did help with the investigation

Members of the thaumaturge’s guild have identified that the blood does not belong to any voidsent, lending officials to suspect this was a more standard assassination. From there, rumors begin to overtake the facts-- theories of dark magic, ancient void rituals, and Amalj’aa sorcery are whispered in the streets. The primary suspects are any of the hundreds of those employed by Fyrgeiss’s company, as many of them desperately work to pay off the cost of migrating to Ul’dah after being displaced by Garlemald.

Incredibly, you are never suspected at any point during all of this. Nobody ever pulls you aside to ask you questions, or throws around any crazy accusations. Ul’dah is simply too big and busy of a city for anyone to notice that you had any motive at all. For the time being, you are simply grateful that the latest development in the endless trail of murder that follows your every step was not done by Halone’s Champion.

Well...allegedly. The person was not seen, and Her champion has always operated with a great deal of shadowy magic, so it’s entirely possible that this was the same person. The question really comes down to...why all the secrecy? He was never so concerned with such things before-- in fact, it even seemed like there was some deliberate degree of showmanship to his actions, but not this time?

Mizu is in good health, just as you anticipated. She has made a full recovery overnight but is still being kept down by literal straps and a straightjacket so she can be observed for unexpected side-effects of expending so much aether at once. When she sees you, she stops struggling to break free from her bindings and just chats instead.

You tell her the situation that evolved while she was unconscious, and she immediately squirms to try and grab her gil pouch, but falls over from trying. At her demand, you take her pouch and count out the difference in gil before returning the pouch to her. You feel a bit guilty, given that she probably can’t even afford lunch on her own afterwards, but she has never been one to keep her allowances for long. In an emergency, she could always just get more from her parents.

How exactly Mizu gets paid you aren’t sure, but you do know that the thaumaturge’s guild loves investing in her due to her reckless abandon with spellcasting and do-or-die attitude towards, well, everything. She apologizes that she wasn’t awake to kill Fyrgeiss herself, which makes you nervously look around to make sure nobody else is listening to the conversation.

Mizu starts asking how Erden felt about the display. You say she should ask him herself, but you also point out that no matter how impressive the spell was, the fact that it can only be cast while putting yourself in grave and immediate danger while also rendering yourself completely unconscious is not a great selling point. If you hadn’t been there, she would be dead right now.

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“But you were there and I am not dead now, all according to plan!” She declares triumphantly. You bonk her on the head.

You tell her about Himoto and the gang’s plans to investigate Sil’dih, and invite her along to join you, which she happily agrees to. She even manages to set up a deal with the thaumaturge’s guild to get paid to investigate the ruins further, making the arrangement much more worthwhile-- you plan to leave once Erden is ready, you just have to check in with Himoto first…once you find out what his room number is.

You leave Mizu to return home so you can check up on him, and she begs you release her from her prison first. You will! Right after everyone is ready to go and she is sufficiently rested. You cast Rejuvenation on her as you walk out of the guild, and she shakes around in her straightjacket as violently as she can, growling and snarling all the while.

The repairs from the Goldsmith guild are easy and cheap enough, but Serendipity points out to you that the only thing that could break it like this would be a cut from a well-sharpened blade. Gold is not very physically durable, so it could be cut if there’s enough force behind the swing.

To make conversation, she asks if you’ve had any run-ins with bandits or something like that since she gave it to you. You pause for a moment before saying yes-- you and Erden had a run in with some brutes just yesterday, so here you are getting it mended.

Serendipity laments that thievery has been going up recently, and the incident this morning is evidence enough that violent crimes are going up as well. She wonders aloud if it’s in the guild’s best interests to hire some adventurers to keep a close eye on their gold stock.

Once the work is done, you head back to the room-- Erden is still out cold despite the fact that he went to sleep before you. With a closer look at his neck, you can see a shallow cut, tall and thin, along his neck. You carefully place the choker down on the nightstand and walk to the other side of the bed. As you do so, you cast Rejuvenate on him and watch as the wound on his neck slowly seals itself up.

When you were younger, your mother would always read bedtime stories to you and Mizu whenever she slept over. Ace would sometimes listen to them, but more often he’d be bored and go do something else like train or draw. Mizu’s favorite kind, and consequently the type you heard the most of, was anything involving voidsent possession.

The topic has always been fundamentally fascinating to you both, so it’s of little surprise that this led her to study thaumaturgy and all it entails. Voidsent are a very well-documented species, and any skilled mage will be able to feel their unnatural, otherworldly presence if they are occupying someone’s body.

The thing that always struck you as interesting about demonic possession stories is the fact that the victim can perform any degree of horrendous actions without any long-term consequence. More than anything, you want to be able to tell him what he has done, and have him be shocked by the revelation. “I did what? I killed all those people?” Then, you could return to Limsa and live out a happy and quiet life.

Deep down, you want some kind of simple explanation, a clean story with a bow tied on top that makes it easy to share your story with others. “Yes, he hurt all those people-- but he was possessed! That happens from time to time!” That is not what you have. Instead, you have a man who cares about your well-being so much that he pays any cost as long as you feel happy and safe at the end of the day. A man so devoted to you, that he could not rest for even one night while one of the many cruelties of the world dared stand in your way.

You lie down in bed, right next to Erden, who is still soundly asleep. For a while, you watch him peacefully breathe in and out, but can’t manage to fall back asleep yourself. Your eyes trace his skin as the seconds tick by, as you run the facts through your head a thousand more times. What lies underneath?