Chapter 9: Premiere

Melia stood at the door to the party's room in the Whitewing Palace frozen with self-doubt. She'd already gotten a lot of curious looks from the guards and other palace staff on her way here, who normally didn't bat an eye at whatever she was wearing. How bad was it going to be to see her done-up-ness leaving the palace just before dinnertime with only Shulk alongside her?

Of course, she couldn't just stand here forever. The Whitewing Palace wasn't exactly private property; anyone with outrageously deep pockets could spend a night in the ritziest hotel in the city. The fact that the imperial family allowed a party of Homs indefinite occupancy of the six-bedroom penthouse for free irked more than a few of the resident high-rollers. Despite this, the party still preferred to spend most nights in Dunban's house, not wanting to become used to the opulent lifestyle.

Gathering all her willpower, Melia opened the door and walked in.

The lobby was mostly empty, with the party apparently having already gone to Budabi's with Riki. But Shulk was there, sitting hunched in the most distant chair on the far side of the table, looking like he was trying extremely hard to not chew his fingernails.

Once Shulk heard that Melia had entered the room, he quickly stood up and stepped away from the table, revealing his crisp suit. It was almost the same shade of burgundy as Melia's outfit, with a nice white shirt, matching tie, and shiny jet-black shoes.

Melia attempted to change mental tracks; she expected Shulk to have a less-than-impressive appearance, but she'd forgotten about the outfits she had commissioned the others for her coronation feast, and were clearly a good fit for this occasion. It would probably be in her best interests to make a positive comment about it.

But before she could gather her new thoughts and get a word out, Shulk intervened.

"You look absolutely mellifluous."

The adjective struck a chord in Melia's memory. As a child many years ago, when she was actively seeking out unusual words to expand her already-gargantuan vocabulary, she came upon this word that resembled her name and meant "sweet and smooth as honey". The parallels were too amusing to ignore - she was named after an old name for the scuppertree, the favoured habitat of Cinnamon Honeybees. It became her new favourite word for a few days, until something else displaced it. She'd never heard it used by anyone else aside from her mother asking what it meant.

"...thank you." It was a meek response, thrown out only because she sensed it was taking her too long to create a real one. She could feel her face burning.

Shulk smiled. He had a feeling that taking a dip in the thesaurus to craft his opening line would do him good. He moved to his next pre-prepared sentence. "Ready to go?"

The more natural phrase made Melia feel a bit more at ease. "Yes. Let us exit through the hotel's main entrance, instead of through the palace." It was surprising how quickly the idea came to mind; it would be ideal to avoid her passing by the palace staff again.

"Sounds good. You lead the way." Shulk followed Melia out of the room and through the unfamiliar transporter that led down to the hotel's lobby, before walking outside into the darkening sky.

Melia had a thought as they cleared the entrance. "I don't suppose you have a plan as to where we'll be having dinner?" She tried to keep her mind in a state where this was just two friends having dinner together; it might be easier to keep herself focused than to consider it a date.

"Actually, I do." Shulk reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a paper with some of his writing scrawled across it. "Alvis showed me a map of restaurants and I found one that looks pretty good."

"...oh." Melia felt a bit worried; Shulk seemed like the kind of guy who would prefer a lower-quality restaurant, or even a fast-food joint. True, she didn't have any ideas herself, but at least she had taste, and her experience with cooking confirmed that Shulk absolutely did not.

"So, uh..." Shulk glanced at his paper and looked around for the nearest cross-dome transporter, which was faintly visible in the distance. "We're going to...the Helios District."

Melia immediately felt slightly more optimistic. The Helios District was the richest of all Alcamoth's subdomes, with no restaurants below four stars, and it would be much easier for the pair's outfits to mesh with the crowd and render them inconspicuous. But on the other hand, it also housed the snootiest and snobbiest of residents; a Homs would stick out like a sore thumb even more than in the rest of the city.

Having found the transporter, Shulk began walking. Melia dashed a bit to catch up and walk alongside.

The Capital District was mostly empty. Citizens generally did not hang around the area during dinnertime, as the dome was light on public food services. And with the news already out that the attack on Mechonis was tomorrow morning, all hands were preparing for the assault, and only a skeleton crew of guards were stationed about. It was not difficult to reach the transporter in short order.

Things could not be more different at the other end of the transport. The streets of the Helios District were flooded with people - some coming home form work, others going out to dinner, but all clearly of the upper class. Every man had either a sleek, spotless suit or an ornate and complex robe; every woman was sporting a flowing gown with all manner of convoluted hairstyles. The proportion of visible half-bloods was markedly smaller than in other neighbourhoods.

Shulk clearly looked a bit flustered by the crowd; while it wasn't new to be amongst the upper crust, this was on a new level of density and judgement. Still, he did a pretty good job of walking straight, not staring at anything, and keeping out of peoples' way.

Melia was worried that Shulk might miss what he was looking for in the commotion, but without knowing herself what it was she couldn't assist. At least she could suggest an alternate destination if he did get irrevocably lost.

"Ah, there it is." Shulk pointed to a sign ahead on the right.

Melia looked up to see The Flying Fish. It didn't take long to recall that she had been here before, and it was indeed quite nice.

It took even less time after that to remember what had happened afterwards: a national emergency and life-threatening battle fought inside a burning office tower.

After realising she had stopped walking for a few seconds, she shook her head and continued moving. Those memories are no longer relevant. Ignore them and move on.

Shulk stopped moving just before the doors, apparently unsure how to proceed. It allowed Melia to catch up. But as she reached for the door, he stepped ahead to open it for her.

Okay, you got me. Melia figured Shulk wouldn't have any sense of chivalry, so it was nice to discover otherwise as she walked inside.

The atmosphere in The Flying Fish was dim. None of the house lights were on; every table was lit by a single candle in the centre, while the waiters carried glowing gems in their lapels and cufflinks. A chalkboard sign near the entrance advertised that tonight's mood was set for "romance". The place was quite busy; no empty tables were visible nearby, and the vast majority of the patrons were couples.

The host, a half-blooded surprisingly young-looking man waiting at a podium just to the right of the doors, bowed. "Welcome, sir and madam. I regret to inform you that we have no tables available at the moment. I trust you have no qualms with being seated in a booth?"

Melia was a bit distracted from answering; the last time she had been here, the host was a much older pure-blood man. To have someone with small wings act as the establishment's public face was quite the statement for a five-star restaurant in the richest part of the city.

Shulk couldn't wait any longer for Melia to answer, so he nervously spoke up. "Y...yes, a booth is fine. Sir." He didn't know what the proper way to address this person was.

"Excellent. Please follow me."

The host led them to one of the few empty booths, in the back-left corner of the restaurant. The tablecloth was the same cozy red colour as the padded benches.

"Please be seated," the host said. "Your menus will arrive momentarily." He then backed away and turned to leave, expecting no thanks.

Melia sat down quickly. Shulk took a bit more time, marveling in the high-quality construction around. As soon as the benches were occupied, a small light in the base of the candlestick flickered on, activating a dampening field that muted all sound outside the booth while also emitting some faint classical music by a string quartet.

"I don't understand this choice of lighting." Melia glared at the candlestick. "Why is a flickering dimness considered "romantic"? I would much prefer to properly see what I'm doing."

Shulk looked to be considering the rhetorical question. After a moment, he answered. "Well, the room being dark means it's harder to be distracted by anything that's not at the table. And putting the light source down in the middle means there's no visible shadows over anyone's faces. Seems like a simple way to push the focus towards the people at the table, and nothing else."

Melia found the answer fascinating - a reasonably strong, logical explanation to an emotional tradition. "That's...an intriguing way to look at it."

The waiter appeared, a tall and lanky pure-blood with a thin mustache. "Your menus, sir and madam." He handed each of them a stiff booklet.

"Thank you." Melia nodded for both of them as the waiter walked away.

Shulk was too distracted to respond. The menus were on black card with the text and images printed with glow-in-the-dark ink, and it blew his mind. "Whoa, this is cool. Lets you read it even in the dark. Brilliant."

Melia ignored the nerd and began picking out her meal. It wasn't too difficult a choice - sourshrimp was one of her favourites, and one of the most prominent variants was flavoured with lemon and served with mushroom-sauced farfalle on the side. Brightgrape wine felt like the correct drink to match, but even though she knew she had enough tolerance to take two glasses of wine, it still felt unnerving and scary to bring it into the equation on such an occasion. Normally she would default to the non-alcoholic Entian Ale, but its taste was a very poor companion to shrimp. What could be a better alternative?

Shulk appeared to be having a hard time with the menu; he was continuously flipping back and forth, holding it up to his face and squinting a lot.

He's not used to this sort of choice, Melia reasoned. He likely has analysis paralysis, made even worse by his eclectic tastes. "Shulk, do you require assistance?"

"Uh...no I'm getting through it. Just a little slow is all." He dragged his finger along a line. "When they say it's apple "cider", does that mean it's alcoholic? Because I'd rather not."

Melia looked back down the drinks page in her own menu, both glad and unsurprised that Shulk also wanted to remain indisputably sober. "Yes, cider is typically alcoholic in these restaurants. Perhaps you should select a fizzy drink."

"...a what?" Shulk looked confused as he stared at the menu. "Fissy? Is that an actual word? Well okay I see it here so it must be. What's it mean?"

"Er..." Melia thought that Homs did indeed have fizzy drinks. "Don't you have carbonated beverages in Colony 9?"

"Oh, you mean pop. Okay. Culture word differences I guess." Despite claiming to understand, he continued to move over the menu very slowly.

Melia eyed Shulk's behaviour with a bit of worry; she didn't exactly want to wait an extra five or ten minutes for him to figure out what he was having. But it did give her an idea of what to have to drink.

A few minutes later, the waiter returned with notepad in hand. "Have you prepared your orders?"

"I have," Melia responded, a little bit slowly to give Shulk more time. "I would like the Sourshrimp Special with a medium Ko-Ko Kola."

"Excellent. And you, sir?"

Shulk glanced up nervously, trying not to drop an "uh" or "um". "...I'd like...the fish and chips, the one without broccoli. And the...medium...Ko-Ko Kola."

"Very well." The waiter recorded the orders. "Your food shall be served as soon as possible. Thank you for your patience." He collected the menus and walked away.

Shulk looked at Melia. "I didn't know you were a pop person. I figured you'd have wine or something."

"That was indeed my first instinct, but..." She paused to figure out how to explain her decision. "I am used to dining in high-end restaurants. By contrast, it is clear you are skittish and apprehensive. I feel it is only fair for me to join in the nervousness of trying something new."

It took Shulk a moment to parse the meaning. "You've never had pop before?"

"Correct. I have had champagne, of course, but my understanding is that its fizziness does not compare to that of Ko-Ko Kola, Pep!, and similar popular sugary fizzy drinks."

Shulk silently mouthed "fizzy" a few times, clearly confused. "So wait, is it "fissy" or "fizzy"?"

Melia didn't know what the problem was. "Fizzy, of course. You did see it in the menu, correct?"

"Well yeah, but wasn't it spelled "fissy"?"

"Of course not, can't you re-" Melia's face morphed from confusion to realisation, then to pity, and finally back to confusion again. She had completely forgotten that Homs couldn't read Erythscript, and so Shulk had been fumbling through the menu as if blind. But if he was truly illiterate to High Entia writing, how did he place an order, or misread "fizzy" as "fissy"? Or even parse the restaurant's sign in the first place?

Shulk recognised there was a thought process going on and guessed what it was. "I've been learning to read your letters for a few days now. I started with your name, because it was pretty easy to pick out from the headlines and stuff. From there I just compared what I knew to other things and filled in the blanks." He put a hand in his pocket but failed to pull out whatever he was looking for. "Normally I carry a little paper around with what I know so far on it, but I guess I forgot to move it into these pants. It's maybe three quarters done."

Melia was natively bilingual, so she couldn't relate, but it felt like it had to be some sort of feat to decode even half an alphabet alone. "That's impressive, Shulk, for a beginner of a few days to successfully place an order in a restaurant without help."

Shulk shrugged. It wasn't impressive to him, after all; he loved codes and ciphers as a kid, and his lab work made him pretty good at discovering patterns in seemingly-random data. "Well, I mean the pictures helped. And if you didn't tell me I'd have no idea what it meant by "fissy". Or "fizzy", whichever."

Melia now realised the source of the mix-up. "Your confusion is understandable. Our letters S and Z are almost identical but for a small stroke in the bottom-right. Much like your O and Q."

"...Oh, wow, that's..." Shulk looked both relieved and dumbfounded. "It's both so obvious and so annoying. I thought that extra mark was like the uppercase tick, not a whole new letter, and Z is one of the ones I hadn't figured out yet. That helps."

The conversation hit a lull. Melia didn't have anything more to offer on the alphabet topic without specific requests for clarification, and Shulk appeared content to sit and wait for the food to arrive. It started to feel a bit awkward.

"So, uh..." Shulk tried to get it started again. "You kind of froze up a bit when we got here. What was that about? Did something happen here in the past?"

Melia was surprised that Shulk noticed; as far as she could tell, he wasn't looking her way when the memories hit her. She wondered how much of the story needed to be told - it wasn't exactly pleasant to remember. Maybe she could get away with just general facts. "This restaurant was a very different place the last time I was here - it was staffed entirely by pure-bloods and under the control of the Diamonts Syndicate. I suppose when the syndicate collapsed, the restaurant was forced to change its management, under which it has apparently become significantly more progressive."

Shulk's head tilted a bit. "Syndicate? You mean, some sort of crime ring?"

"Yes. The Diamonts Syndicate was the largest protection racket in Alcamoth, with a fair amount of high-end fronts such as this one. But after its headquarters was discovered, they lost their leadership and ended up withering away."

"Cool. So how'd you find them?"

"What leads you to believe I played any part in it?"

Shulk shrugged sheepishly. "Well, I mean, the way you stopped walking didn't feel like you were just remembering that the place was different. It was more like you were remembering an event. Sorry if I'm wrong."

Melia considered for a moment whether the correct move was to admit or deny. She didn't really want to relive it, and while she knew the sonic dampening field around the booth was two-way due to passing by the many other tables in near silence, she still felt it was a bit risky to discuss events that could out her true identity to eavesdroppers. But at the same time, presenting herself as having an interesting past might help draw Shulk's eye to her.

"No, you are correct. I did indeed play a major part in defeating them."

Shulk changed his seated posture a bit, but didn't say anything, expecting her to start the story.

After glancing around a bit in paranoia, Melia began. "I've...never had to retell the story before, as the events were broadcasted live across the entire city, so everyone old enough to speak would have witnessed it firsthand. So..."

"It began at this restaurant, just over two years ago. I was on an excursion, and it was recommended by the guard I had selected to escort me that day. Of course, he turned out to be a traitor. He somehow communicated to his comrades here to slip a sleeping agent into my lunch, making it all too easy for him to take me to the Diamonts headquarters. I awoke restrained to a chair to be used as ransom. But the goons assumed I would be helpless, and did not prepare for resistance. It was trivial to summon my staff from across the room and incapacitate them, followed by freeing myself and escaping into the building. With all the exits locked down by the kingpin, I was forced to climb up every one of the tower's fifteen floors, dispatching dozens of assailants along the way. Upon reaching the top floor, I was able to summon my ship and escape, leaving the kingpin to fall to his doom and the building to collapse from being set ablaze."

Shulk appeared reasonably impressed, sitting up a bit straighter and intently leaning forward the whole time. "Wow. Sounds like an adventure. So that was two years ago? Let's see, what was I doing two years ago...maybe, uh...well, I...might have...no. No, I can't think of anything interesting." His face turned down a bit. "All the stuff from then, it's boring kid stuff. Getting in trouble for doing or not doing things. Reyn being a doofus. Fiora...helping the both of us out. Dunban going out to save the world. Dickson moaning about pretty much everything. There's no real big events anywhere in there, until the Mechon attacked and I took the Monado."

"I find that hard to believe," Melia countered. "There's bound to have been something in your past that merits an interesting story."

Shulk shook his head. "I'm an engineer. I solve problems. I don't go out and do things. I actually avoided going out, pretty much, I liked it when I could just work on the same thing every day with no events getting in the way. Besides, you have seventy years on me, that's way more time for you to build up an interesting past."

"I suppose that is...true. Hold a moment, how do you know my age? I'm fairly sure I haven't told any of you."

"I was using the newspaper to learn your alphabet, remember? It's been in there a few times. There was this one article comparing you to...to...uh, your aunt, whatever her name was. It mentioned that she became empress at fifty while you did at eighty-eight. Then it threw in some funny words that I guess can't be translated directly or something, so I skipped the rest of it. But yeah."

Melia wondered how much else Shulk had dug up without her knowledge. Not without good intentions, certainly, but it was still somewhat disturbing. She quite liked having her two lives distinct and separate, with full control of only the absolute minimum crossing between them.

"So, uh..." Shulk looked around. "How long does this normally take? To get our food? I was hungry earlier but it's kind of died off now."

"Depending on the order, and how busy the kitchens are, anywhere from ten to thirty minutes. Perhaps even longer, given that all the tables are occupied tonight." Melia shared Shulk's dislike of waiting to be served, but unlike him was used to the experience.

"Oh, well, I guess that makes sense. I mean, they can't really just make a bunch of stuff and wait for someone to order it, right? Yeah." He shuffled his sitting position a bit. "I guess we should have shown up earlier. I wouldn't have thought of that."

Melia got the impression Shulk was berating himself. "It is a learning experience as much as any other. Do not reprimand yourself for not knowing."

"Yeah, I guess." Shulk looked down at the stack of napkins on the table, which was slightly ionised so the top few sheets were easy to grab individually. "I hope there won't be any multi-fork nonsense."

"For fish and chips? No." Melia recalled how none of her friends had any idea how to handle the three forks and two knives set out for each of them at her coronation feast. It was somewhat amusing, but mostly awkward.

"Good. It's one of those things that just...I dunno, I just don't see why it exists. Why waste so many forks on one person? Does the kitchen just have too many of them and they want to get them all used?"

"Like many things, it originated as a display of wealth. The wealthiest families would place as many as five forks per person at the table, simply to brag about how they possessed so much silverware that they could use one piece for each course. Over time, it became the standard for high cuisine."

Shulk nodded and hmmed but couldn't think of a proper response.

The waiter appeared, carrying a small tray with two large glasses on it. "Your drinks, sir and madam." He placed each one down in front of them, leaving plenty of room for the future food.

"Thank you," Melia responded as he walked away. She investigated the glasses: they contained a dark brown fizzy liquid, had a cylindrical ice gem embedded in their base to keep the beverage cold, and came with a flexible straw clipped onto the outside of the rim.

Shulk cautiously reached forward to take the straw, flip it around so it was clipped to the inside of the glass, and take a small pull. He immediately had to fight with himself to not drink any more and end up with less then half a glass by the time the food arrived. "Oh good. I was hoping it wouldn't taste too different from a Homs pop."

Melia took hold of the cold glass of foreign liquid and prepared to have a sip.

"No no no." Shulk shook his head. "You got a straw for a reason. Use it."

I suppose he is the one that knows better for this specific situation. Melia decided it wasn't worth trying to argue, and it wasn't like she was opposed to drinking straws - she just wasn't used to using them without her mask on. She took the straw, stuck it into the drink, and took her first taste of the cola.

The taste was indescribable, something completely new that couldn't be compared to anything else she'd ever had, and the bubbles were far more powerful than she expected. She could feel her face going through a dozen different arrangements trying to figure out how to respond to the extreme fizziness. It was certainly a positive reaction.

"Looks like you like it." Shulk appeared pleased.

Melia let go to begin creating a response, but the unclipped straw buoyed out of the glass and bopped her in the nose before falling onto the table.

Shulk lasted for about one second before dumping his laughter all over the table, leaning in on one arm and chuckling like mad. He would pay a thousand G to watch that again.

It took Melia a moment to realise what had happened. Once she did, she agreed it was quite funny, and showed it with a more reserved chortle.

"I must admit I was wondering why you chose to re-clamp your straw." She picked her own up and ensured it was clamped securely to the glass before taking a napkin to clean the minor drips it had left on the table. It was obvious in hindsight - the fizzing bubbles latched onto the straw to lift it out of the liquid. But with no experience in the combination of straw with fizzy drink, she didn't see it coming.

Shulk unsuccessfully tried to straighten up for a few moments, still laughing. Eventually he slowed down enough to speak. "Making a rookie mistake with a straw in pop. It's nice to know you're still human."

Melia understood the phrase - Shulk was saying she wasn't some magical being with infinite knowledge about food and dining - but it was still a bit jarring to hear the word "human" used. She was used to it being used by High Entia to refer only to High Entia - with half-bloods like her being considered "subhuman" by the snobby pure-blood maniacs - even though the original Homs meaning encompassed all species smart enough to communicate with. It was hard for her to see it as anything but an elitist term.

"Oh man." Shulk managed to sit back up and take a deep breath, but he wasn't completely settled down. "That was just perfect. Anyone else, it wouldn't be nearly as funny, they can't hold a straight face like you can, and you didn't even flinch. Woo." He held one hand on his stomach as he calmed down. "...What were we talking about?"

Melia saw the opportunity to redirect the conversation back to something she felt was glossed over. "You were attempting to think of an interesting story from your past."

"...really? Well that's kinda familiar, so I guess." He thought for a moment. "Wait, no, I already figured there weren't any."

"And I said you were wrong. Try again." Melia sat back, indicating she had no intent of dropping the subject. She'd done enough talking about herself and her culture for now. It was Shulk's turn.

Shulk didn't expect such a response. He clearly didn't know how to answer it, his eyes darting around in all directions trying to figure something out.

After an agonising minute and a half, he finally had a tenuous thought. "...uhhm, well...maybe...there was this one time where Reyn beat me at chess."

Melia couldn't contain her reaction. "What?! How is that possible? Shulk, that's absolutely an interesting story! Do continue."

"Well, uh..." Shulk paused for a moment. "We were like eleven or twelve-ish. I'd been kind of messing around with the game for a few months, I knew all the moves and a few openings. But Dickson was the only one who would play me, and he was way too good for me, so he'd start the game without his rooks or something and still win, it wasn't much fun. But then one day Reyn asked to play, best two of three. I was pretty confused because I had no idea he cared about the game, but I figured it'd be an easy win so I went for it."

"Game one was pretty easy, Reyn did all the predictable stuff and didn't look to have much of a plan. But then he started game two with some funny moves that didn't make any sense. I just went on playing my opening, but then once I ran out of book moves I found that he'd set up a pretty good trap for them. So it took a while but he won game two. I realised that book openings only work if the opponent is playing along with them, so I decided to open game three with just general principles instead. But then I found out that once I had things started, I didn't really know what the next part of the plan was, because I didn't really have a plan to begin with. Meanwhile Reyn was just doing things, with no obvious plan but no clear weaknesses either. In the end it was...I think a fork that I totally missed. He got me good and I felt like a dope."

"He tried not to brag about it, but of course it wasn't long before everyone knew. Now I know it's really just because I was too focused on openings and never practiced any middlegame situations, but I felt terrible about it because chess was the "smart guy" game, and losing to Reyn was just...ugh."

Melia realised she was leaning pretty far forward, so she made an exaggerated nod to conceal her moving back to a neutral position. "Of course. I have little experience with chess beyond the basics, but I do know it can be surprisingly tricky to challenge an opponent who does not know what they are doing."

Shulk thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, but...I wouldn't be too surprised if Reyn did know what he was doing. There's no way he would ask me to play him without a plan of some sort. Even if it was just "do weird stuff"." He had an idea. "Say, maybe we could play sometime. I think we'd be pretty even."

"...Perhaps." Melia considered telling him that she didn't have much interest in the game because of how much time had to be invested into it, but then again she knew that Homs chess was played with simpler pieces on a board only eight spaces square, so it probably wouldn't be as bad.

The waiter finally reappeared, with one large platter in each hand. "Your meals, sir and madam." He placed the trays down on the table.

"Thank you." Melia confirmed that she did indeed get what she'd asked for before nodding, sending the waiter on his way.

"Woah." Shulk looked over his large plate of uniformly-cooked Occipital Haddock and perfectly-sliced Airy Potatoes, with containers of vinegar and ketchup alongside. "There's a lot here."

"Restaurants tend to err on the side of more rather than less," Melia explained, taking her first stab of farfalle. "It is better to throw out some leftovers than to leave a patron still hungry."

"I guess that makes sense." Shulk reached for the saltshaker on the table, sprinkled his meal, and started into the fish.

There was silence for a bit while the two ate. Neither expected the other to comment on the food - Melia knew Shulk would just say it was good regardless of anything, while Shulk figured Melia would only voice her opinion if it was negative. But it still felt wrong for there to be no such discussion whatsoever.

Shulk was the first to ask. "So how is yours?"

Melia took time in finishing her mouthful. "Of the stellar quality I would expect from an establishment of this kind." I'm probably supposed to match the question. "I presume you agree?"

"Well, I mean...I don't see anything wrong with it, but I don't have a lot of other high-end dinners to compare it to."

Something occurred to Melia. "So what prompted you to select this restaurant?"

Shulk shrugged. "It was the first one I saw on the map that I could tell was seafood by the name, pretty much."

"Why were you looking for seafood in particular?"

"Because duh? It's your favourite, right?"

Melia opened her mouth in response to the first sentence but quickly closed it again to think about the second. "How did you know?"

Shulk almost slouched a bit as he tilted his head in what looked a lot like slight irritation. "Come on, Melia, even I was paying attention a few nights ago when you made us salmon for dinner. It was the most excited you'd been so far for any of your own cooking. You couldn't have made it more obvious."

Melia didn't have an answer to that; she simply turned her reddening face down into her food. Having personal information spilled from another source such as the newspaper was bad enough - it felt absolutely awful to to know she herself had been so unknowingly transparent on a subject that even Shulk could see it.

I can't believe I could have been so careless. How much else have I revealed simply by enjoying the company of my friends?

"Melia, what's wrong?" Shulk leaned down to try and glimpse her face. "Why would you not want us to know what food you like?"

"It's not that," Melia mumbled. She had come to a realisation, and without thinking about it, started to elaborate upon it.

"Ladies of the imperial family have their identities hidden from the public from birth to marriage. It is one of the oldest traditions with one of the strongest and most sensible reasons: so no suitor can court a princess or empress solely for her physical appearance. As a useful secondary effect, it allows one to wander amongst the public with anonymity, a power I have come to enjoy over the years. It greatly pleased me to be capable of posing as a citizen with an invented backstory and no obligations, in contrast to the royal face I have to uphold at all other times. But when I first met you and your friends, the line was blurred. Partly out of necessity and partly due to my own fatigued errors, it quickly became impossible to deny the truth, making you the first outside the palace to know of my dual nature. It raised a continual struggle that I believe I have only now fully grasped - I am desperate to control exactly what you know of me. My likes and dislikes, my opinions, my experiences. I find it unpleasant to discover any tidbit you uncover outside my efforts, undermining my attempts to craft this...third persona of mine, the one presented to only our group of friends."

She'd said too much. She'd said far, far too much. Once it got going, the train of thought charged forward without a hope of reeling it in. She had no idea what Shulk's reaction would be, but it was probably going to be negative.

Instead, Shulk just looked mystified. "Why would you bother trying to keep a third persona just for us? What's wrong with just...being yourself?"

Melia looked off to the side and stared into the distance for a few moments. Why indeed? Why did she feel obligated to keep herself stilted, controlled, and reclusive in the presence of the only true friends she'd ever had? She recalled one time Shulk had brought up this same issue before: she had mentioned that the rest of the party was at ease with each other, whereas she still felt like she didn't fit in. What did she say then? That perhaps one day she might do something "crazy"? Well, participating in the social game and being bold enough to ask for this date certainly qualified. But even then, she almost immediately lapsed back into worrying about what was proper or what others thought. Even as Meyneth allowed her the freedom to "be herself" during this evening, she felt that she wasn't really doing anything with it. And it was arguably not even out of choice - it was just what came naturally.

"I feel...I have never truly known what it means to "be yourself"."

Shulk nodded slowly and went back to his food, apparently not interested in continuing the subject.

Melia did the same, glad that the matter appeared closed at least for now. She hoped and expected Shulk would soon be finding something more uplifting to talk about. Then again, it was Shulk who had been driving most the conversation already. Maybe she should be the one to bring up the next topic.

Hm, there's an idea. "Shulk, tell me about Dickson."

Shulk appeared confused for a moment, but then mentally shrugged and began. "He's pretty much the reason I'm here. Not just because he saved me and brought me to Colony 9, but because of everything else he's done for me and the whole colony. His weapon's not much but he's a great tactician, so he's won us a lot of battles against the Mechon, or at least minimised the damage and saved as many as he could. And of course he's been pretty much everywhere, so there's no better person to ask about dangerous paths or secret routes across the Bionis, aside from maybe an old mapmaker Nopon."

Melia brought up Dickson's image in her mind. "How old is he? Perhaps it is simply because I have little experience in judging Homs ages, but his appearance and his reported feats do not match to me."

"What do you mean?"

"It is quite a feat to be an expert on all regions of the Bionis at such a young age, yet he also appears many years older than his physical condition would indicate. I'm frankly baffled."

"Well, he's..." Shulk did some numbers in his head. "Forty-something? Four or five I think. He is pretty good at staying fit, that's for sure, Dunban would always say he's one of the few that could challenge him at endurance runs. He calls Dunban a "beast", but he's not much different himself. He's just more...subtle about it." Something occurred to him. "Wait, is this about you still not trusting him?"

"I...suppose." Melia didn't recall mentioning it to the party since she had first met Dickson at Sword Valley, but she wasn't surprised that Shulk remembered. "He...irks me."

Shulk nodded thoughtfully. "You do seem real on-edge whenever he's around. But it's just a bad feeling, right?"

"Correct. While Riki shares my impression that something is amiss about him, I have no presentable evidence." It was a little sugar-coated - Dickson's unnatural, ominous aura was much more than just "something amiss" - but this was not the time to raise any major issues about it.

"I do kinda get what you mean." Shulk was staring off the to the side a bit, remembering something. "There's actually an in-joke around the Defence Force that it's bad news for Dickson to show up. It's nothing to do with him of course, it's more like you don't need him until the situation's already real bad. But a lot of people have a mixed opinion with it. Kinda like...like you can't tell whether someone's predicting a disaster, or causing it." Shrug. "He's still probably the first person everyone would want to go to war with. I mean, not counting whoever has the Monado, that's kind of cheating."

Melia figured that was enough Dickson talk for now - if Colony 9's forces at large were okay with him, that was enough reassurance for a few days. Now she just had to hope she wouldn't be seeing him for a while and have his dominating presence flood her senses back to dread.

Shulk didn't miss his chance to turn things back the other way. "Melia, tell me about Kallian."

Melia couldn't say she was surprised by the request, but she still wasn't prepared for it, and took a moment to figure out a response. "What is there to say? He is knowledgeable on all subjects yet with a keen instinct, he shows compassion when possible but no mercy when necessary, he fights with a fervour unmatched by any knight. He is easily the most uncontestable heir to the throne in many centuries."

Shulk seemed to raise his eyebrows for a split second, but it was gone in an instant. "Okay, so that's Kallian the prince, what about Kallian the person?"

"They are one and the same. Unlike myself, he was raised to show his true colours at all times. There is no order of secrecy for a pure-blooded son."

"...Man, he must be pretty boring then."

Melia paused for a moment to process a response to the statement, but it came out before she was ready. "What?"

Shulk kind of half-shrugged and tilted his head a bit, looking down into the fish he was cutting. "If he's that perfect at everything, he's got to be boring."

"Erm..." Shulk has a point; characters without flaws are often dull. What can I say to dispel-

"But he obviously isn't perfect, since otherwise the Emperor wouldn't have picked you to be next."

Melia almost dropped her fork. She had momentarily forgotten that Kallian was not the selected heir, and had been speaking as if he were. Even after everything that had happened since the announcement otherwise, it was so easy and comfortable a mindset to relapse into.

"So what is it then?" Shulk unconsciously leaned in a bit. "What do you have that Kallian doesn't? What's so much more important that what he does have?"

"I wish I knew." Melia didn't intend to launch into another tirade, but it began almost automatically. "We have both spent our entire lives with full understanding of who the prime choice was. Even without the virtue of his head start, Brother's skills at diplomacy, ability to read people, and overall popularity are far beyond mine, all of which are arguably the most important facets of being the leader of a society. The ancestral simulation within the Tomb did nothing to explain the choice, instead choosing to wax poetic to itself about my half-blooded nature, which is indisputably a net detriment in all ways. Even when I voiced my concerns on this exact issue to Father, he simply brushed them off as...as misinformed, as the mistaken ramblings of someone who has never wished to take the throne."

Shulk had an idea. "Kallian probably couldn't use the Imperial Staff like you."

"And what of that? Father's choice of weapon is the ether wand, yet he still took the staff to Prison Island as necessary. The Imperial Staff is a ceremonial tool more than a weapon. An emperor's ability to wield it in battle is immaterial, and in fact has not been exercised in eons."

"Okay, so..." Shulk kept looking for something else; he didn't want to stop until he found something. "...did Kallian ever have to fight the mafia? Or not get assassinated?"

"Of course not," Melia said a bit too sharply. "There is no reason to kill a young pure-blooded prince, and his later skills with the rapier made it foolish for anyone to consider challenging him."

"Well there it is then," Shulk suggested. "Kallian's used to being the golden boy, the one everyone loves. So if he does something wrong, and people start to get upset with him, we don't really know how he'll react. You know what it's like to be hated. You can handle it."

Melia opened her mouth to argue, but decided to fill it with a shrimp instead. It was a surprisingly good point. Not good enough a point by itself to explain the entire decision, but still a reasonable factor.

"Eughxf." Shulk poked the remainder of his fish. "Do they serve dessert here? If they do I should probably stop so I don't miss it."

"I believe we would have needed to order it initially, so no." Melia normally didn't mind the absence of dessert - it would lose its appeal to have it at every single dinner. But she realised that this was certainly one occasion where it would have been a good idea.

"Okay then. I think I can finish..." After an uncomfortable pause, he straightened up to release a deep belch that his cola had clearly been fueling for a while. "Drat, I'm sorry, I tried to keep it down but it didn't work."

Melia had lived through enough of Reyn and Riki burping that it didn't really bother her anymore. "I don't blame you; it is a natural consequence."

"Yeah...at least it freed up some room, I feel better about this fish now. How do you not do it though?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I suppose some individuals simply retain gas better than others."

Shulk let out another burp, though this one was silent and much smaller. "Man, you're unfair. Uh, I mean, um, I mean that in a good way. Like, in a you-got-lucky-at-genetics way."

Melia held back a dismissive scoff. "Lucky? Hardly. Perhaps I have inherited many beneficial traits from both my parents' races, but may I remind you there is one in particular that is most important of all."

"What, your wings? You mean some half-bloods can have large wings?"

"Indeed. It is more common for Homs mothers to produce small-winged children, and vice versa for High Entia mothers."

"So..." Shulk looked around, but couldn't really see anyone in the darkness outside the table. "So there's more half-blooded people walking around than it looks like?"

Melia nodded. "Correct. Many of them try to hide their true natures to avoid the shame and disrespect that most half-bloods experience. It is not too rare to find a half-blood who has inherited exclusively High Entia traits, and so is effectively indistinguishable from a pure-blood."

"Huh. Weird. I don't know anything about genetics, so I don't really know what I expected, but...I guess something simple, like all half-bloods have small wings, and that's how you know." He turned his fork around in his hand a few times. "I still say you're lucky. None of this would have happened if you were any different."

"That is true. No matter how much I mope about my nature and past, there is little I would change about the current state of the world they have weaved."

"Yeah..." Shulk considered talking about specific things he'd want to change, but the first few that came to mind were all death-related and he didn't feel like going into that kind of thing right now would be a good idea. "There's a lot of stuff I want to go back and fix. But that would just mess up the present, and I like how things are right now - not perfect, but pretty good."

Melia felt it was the right time to steer the conversation back to something more lighthearted, but couldn't think of anything, so she instead just sat in silence.

Luckily, it didn't take long for Shulk to have the same idea. "So what's winter like up here in Alcamoth? I'm guessing it doesn't get as cold as Colony 9."

"You are correct, but not by much; the difference is only a few degrees. Our plants and animals are equally likely to retreat into hiding during the winter months."

"Hm okay. I figured it'd be more like summer year-round since you're closer to the sun. But then I actually think about it for more than a second and realise the sun's way too far away for that to make a big difference. So I guess you've seen even less snow than we have."

Melia had to think about it. "Not too long ago we had a cold winter where a messy slush was more common than rain. But I can't remember it ever snowing."

"Yeah, I think it's only snowed in Colony 9..." Shulk unconsciously tipped his head upwards to think. "...six times? Maybe seven or eight. And only one of those times was the ground kind of white when we woke up. It was fun to mess with for an hour or two before it melted. That was...uh, I was eleven, so seven years ago."

"That would match the year I'm thinking of." Melia thought about what she was doing at the time - progressing through learning Reflection. It felt weird to consider that she was well on her way to mastering the ether staff while Shulk wasn't near old enough to hold a sword. It was even weirder to realise that when she first picked up a staff, he wasn't even born yet. "When is your birthday?"

Shulk was going to answer but had what he thought was a better idea. "Why don't you guess?"

"All right." Melia didn't take long to come up with a guess. "August 6th."

"Hey, pretty close. It's actually August 19th." Shulk grew suspicious. "You had help, didn't you?"

There was no reason to hide it. "I did. Sharla had already told me your astrological sign."

"Right, yeah, she would know. We all shared our birthdays with her before we reached Makna Forest, because she was talking astrology one night and was interested in how our signs fit together as a team. Then I guess because we'd did it once, we forgot to do it again once we met you and Riki. Do you care about astrology?"

"I do have a passing interest in it." It was understated but overall true; she would never make any serious decisions based on the stars, but she felt oddly drawn to the idea that peoples' birth months had an overarching effect on their grander personality.

"Thought so. Okay it's my turn."

Melia watched as Shulk thought for several moments, coming up with his guess for her birthday. It was clear he was going through a rather involved thought process, rather than just making a stab in the dark. He might be trying to match my perceived personality to his understanding of the zodiac. Or perhaps he's trying to remember a hint he read in the newspaper. She continued to finish the remainder of her food; normally she would have had trouble completing the meal, but maybe her elevated stress levels from earlier left her hungrier than usual.

After what had to have been several minutes, he had his answer. "February 18th."

Melia's eyes widened. "That's...you're only four days early. How...?"

Shulk chuckled. "Exactly halfway around the year. Well, as exact as you can get, since it's an odd number."

"...I see." That's a strange way to select a guess...especially considering he was just talking about astrology. He must lack knowledge on it, and is unaware that under its tenants, he suggested that we have maximum mutual romantic compatibility. Which is clearly untrue.

"Oof." Shulk placed his utensils onto his empty plate. "I'm totally stuffed. I don't think I've eaten this much in one sitting since...I don't even know. So what do we do now?"

"We wait for the waiter to take the dishes away." Melia tipped the last of her drink into her mouth, just so she wouldn't have to make her straw gurgle, before stacking her dishes together for easy collection.

Shulk carefully followed Melia's lead, trying not to clatter anything.

It only took about thirty seconds for the waiter to show up. He didn't say anything as he took the dishes away.

"So...is tipping a thing you do in Alcamoth?" asked Shulk.

It took Melia a bit to figure out what he meant. "No, gratuities are considered insulting in our culture."

"Really? Insulting? Well I'm glad we don't have to, but I didn't think it'd be taken that far."

"I must admit I don't know exactly why it is considered an insult. Perhaps at one point in history it was equated to bribery."

The waiter reappeared, but he didn't have a bill in hand as expected. Instead, he was holding two small saucers.

"Complements of the chef." He placed the saucers in front of each of them before turning away once more.

Upon each of the saucers sat a cinnamon roll. They were perfectly crafted; the spirals were completely even in curvature and thickness, and the icing was layered in exactly straight lines. They looked like they belonged in an advertisement.

"Uh...darn." Rubbing his belly, Shulk eyed the bun with regret that he'd not left any room for it. "Well, it'd be rude to not have it, right?"

Melia wasn't listening, instead staring at the pastry. How long had it been since her last cinnamon roll? It was difficult to measure whether it was her preferred treat over fudge, but unlike fudge the royal chefs rarely ever served them because the rest of the family had other preferences. Furthermore, she would never have them when out as a citizen, because she knew her unusual way of eating them - that is, not unrolling them with her fingers - would make her stand out from the crowd. As a result, every one she did have was special on some level, and she kind of liked it that way.

Shulk reached for his roll but reconsidered. "Uhh...right, fingers, not supposed to use those." After a bit of thinking and realising that no utensils were provided, he grabbed a napkin and used it to pick up the bun. "This is right, right?"

"It's how I do it." Melia took a napkin and did the same, investigating the pastry close-up to find the best place to begin.

"Good." Shulk found the edge of the spiral and bit a strip off.

Melia had two choices. She could go about eating the roll her way, and probably get a lot of funny looks from Shulk about it. Or she could do it his way, and probably get funny looks for making inexperienced mistakes with it. But wasn't Shulk immensely amused by her error with the cola straw?

Might as well try. It took some uncomfortable effort, but she got the outer edge unlatched and took a bite. And another one, because the first one didn't get a clean break. And then a third because one part still got squished rather than split.

Shulk suppressed a laugh so he could swallow. "I thought you said this is how you do it." He was clearly teasing rather than confused.

"It has been a very long time since my last cinnamon roll." It was the truth, though not exactly the reason as to why she had trouble with the unrolling.

"That's what I thought." Shulk carried on.

The rolls were too tasty for much conversation to interrupt them. By the time either of them felt like saying anything else, the saucers and napkins were empty.

"Wow that was good." Shulk crumpled up his napkin and placed it on the saucer. "Why did they gave us free dessert?"

Melia shrugged. "It could be any number of reasons. I suspect customer retention is chief among them. Though now that I think on it more, it's likely you're the first Homs to ever set foot in here, and the staff decided to acknowledge it."

"Hm that's an interesting idea. Since you said they only recently became...uh, less discriminating, or however you worded it."

The waiter reappeared, as if he immediately knew when the plates were empty. "How were your meals, sir and madam?"

Melia answered first to give Shulk a chance to think. "Exquisite as expected."

Shulk held back a natural indecisive grunt and stumbled to get a word out. "Amazing."

The waiter nodded. "Thank you for your patronage. Have an excellent evening." He replaced the blank saucers on the table with the bill, concealed in a small booklet, and left once more.

"Well, I guess we're done then." Shulk reached for the bill.

Melia shook her head. "You don't need to pay, Shulk."

"Good to know." He opened the booklet to find a grand total of 314G. He couldn't hide his grimace, but showed no hesitation in reaching for his wallet.

"Er, when I said you don't need to pay, I meant-"

"-you meant you don't want me to pay. Because it's expensive and you have infinite money and stuff. But you asked me for this date, and I picked the time and place, so I'm the one paying. That's how it works."

"...If you insist." She didn't think it was worth arguing - if Shulk wants to waste his money, as opposed to using Melia's practically limitless funds, that's on him.

Shulk opened his wallet to start fishing around for banknotes. At least Alcamoth currency was easy enough for anyone; Erythscript numbers were strikingly similar to the ancient numerals used for gem rankings, and each denomination was very distinct. It didn't take long for him to place the correct amount in the booklet and close it back up.

"So do we just leave now?"

"Yes." Melia nodded and stood up. Part of her didn't want to leave, but it was all too easy to supress.

Shulk followed as the two made their way back to the entrance. The host gave them a silent half-nod half-bow as they walked outside.

The streets were much emptier than earlier; there were only about a dozen people visible in either direction. With the moon hidden by clouds, the streetlights cast a yellow glow across the buildings.

As the two walked back towards the transporter, Melia thought about all that had happened this evening. Partly because she had attempted to mentally frame it as such, it didn't really feel like a "date" the way she expected it - aside from the setting, nothing particularly "romantic" happened. It was just like two friends having dinner together. It didn't really feel like she formed any sort of extra connection with Shulk as she had hoped, but deep down she knew it was a long shot to begin with.

Shulk apparently didn't like the silence. "So how was it? Did you have a good time?"

Melia found it surprisingly easy to answer. "It was a unique experience. I don't believe I've ever had such an extended conversation with anyone whom I would consider an equal."

"So you'd do it again?"

"Absolutely."

Shulk smiled, but it disappeared quickly as he looked away. "It'll be hard to wait. What'd you say, at least a year to be stuck in the palace doing royal things? No chance of sneaking out before then?"

"Well, I..." Melia considered the idea. "I suppose I could for a day or two. One night will make no difference to a year-long task. But the risk of being caught would be magnitudes higher than ever before. The texts are quite clear that the smallest deviation from duty-"

"Blah blah blah," Shulk blabbered with his hand. "We'll figure something out. I don't think Kallian could handle not looking the other way for you and your friends."

Melia wasn't so sure - it wasn't exactly Kallian's decision - but now was not the time to debate it. "I thank you for your optimism."

"Well someone has to be the optimist between the two of us."

"Are you saying I am a pessimist?"

"...uh, no? You're more of a realist. Which I guess some people would say is the same thing, but...they aren't." Shulk didn't feel right leaving it there, but he couldn't figure out how to continue the thought.

There was a moment of silence as they passed through the transporter back to the Capital District.

Once through, Melia had a thought that Shulk probably deserved some praise for his efforts. "I must say, Shulk, I am quite impressed how well you adapted to the unfamiliar environment. I can only imagine how stressed you must have been throughout the night."

Shulk drooped and released a huge exhale. "You have no idea. Just leaving that high-class zone is a huge weight off, it's not at all like the palace where most people at least recognise us and don't hold us to the top standards. If they didn't have the simple fish and chips I'd have no idea what I could have eaten, the menu was just full of stuff I'd never heard of. And then throw in having a date for the first time on top of all that."

Melia started to nod but stopped. "Date for the first time? You...never had any dates with...with anyone else?" She felt it best not to mention Fiora's name, and hoped Shulk would get the unspoken context.

"Nope. Never really had the opportunity to." Shulk appeared contemplative. "I was too much of a shut-in for any girls to get near me. I guess Fiora was the only one, but we'd known each other forever and had dinner together all the time, so a "proper" date probably wouldn't even have been interesting."

"I see." Melia stoically turned straight ahead. Part of her was even more impressed at how well Shulk had conducted himself for have never been on a date himself before, but another part believed that he only enjoyed the date because of the Fiora attributes he was projecting onto her, using her as a surrogate for some of the things he'd unknowingly always wanted to do with Fiora but never got the chance.

As they approached the Whitewing Palace, they could faintly see that the lights were on in the penthouse.

"Looks like the others are back from their dinner," noted Shulk.

Melia didn't feel comfortable being seen by the others in her current getup, but she didn't have any ideas for how to cordially finish the date before then, so she continued to match Shulk's pace into the hotel and up to the top floor.

Shulk seemed to sense the tension, so he stopped in the hall before the entry to the penthouse became visible and turned back towards Melia. "Well, uh...I don't have any clue how to end this properly, and we'll be back to fighting bad guys together tomorrow, so...um, just, goodnight then." He produced a sheepish half-smile, his hands fidgeting like he didn't know what to do with them.

"Yes, good night." Somehow Melia felt it wasn't enough. "I cannot thank you enough for this...wondrous opportunity."

"Oh, uh, thanks." He didn't have anything to add. "See you tomorrow." With that, he turned out of sight.

Melia stood still for a few moments before shaking herself free and starting towards her chambers. Now that she was back in more familiar territory, the whole evening felt a lot more like a dream.

She started to evaluate the event on the whole. Did it go well? Absolutely, aside from a few minor mishaps that were easily shaken off and arguably added to the experience. Did she enjoy it? Definitely; all the praise about it that she had vocalised to Shulk was true and honest. Did she get what she wanted? There was no way to know; it was difficult to judge whether Shulk's desire to do it again was based on what he thought of her as a person, or just because he liked how it went.

Perhaps she just wasn't paying as much attention to them as earlier, but it didn't seem like the people Melia passed by in the halls gave her any curious looks this time. She reached her room quickly with no interruptions while feeling reasonably pleased overall.

But upon reaching her desk to see Meyneth's chestplate sitting on it, she came to a sudden realisation - Shulk had not made a single comment on the chestplate being missing from her person. True, it would have been mostly concealed by her outfit, but at least the choker around her neck should have been clearly absent. Did he notice but ignore it, or did he not care enough to speak up about it? Or was he truly clueless enough to have not noticed it was missing at all? After all, the object was pretty much the only reason he'd been so close to her over the last few weeks. For him to not notice it was missing during the closest they'd ever been - she had no idea what to make of it.

Great. Now my mood is soured. I couldn't bask in the illusion of success for even an hour afterward.

Mostly upset and frustrated with herself for ruining the moment, Melia decided she might as well go straight to bed. After all, the last time the chestplate was initially attached to her, she ended up unconscious for a while - it would be a good sleep aid, and she needed some good sleep for tomorrow.

With disappointment, she undid herself, listlessly tossing her clothes down the laundry chute and her jewelry onto the desk. Once prepared for bed, she took the chestplate and laid down, running her fingers over the metallic surface.

I can't imagine you had a good evening, Meyneth. And while I thought I did, I can't help but question myself. Let us hope tomorrow brings some actual joy.

Prepared for pain, Melia placed the chestplate where it belonged and closed her eyes. As expected, she felt the device penetrate her neck, and then entered nothingness.

The red sun hung overhead as it always did, at perhaps half its biggest size.

Melia could hear Meyneth mumbling to herself again. It was quieter than the last time she had found herself accidentally eavesdropping, so it was harder to pick out many words at all. But it seemed that about half of the sentences were repeats of things she had already heard in the past. Yes, definitely repeats; that last sentence about Fiora's memories was said with the exact same timing and intonation as when she heard it the first time. It was a bit creepy and also somewhat disappointing, to not hear anything new that could be helpful against Egil in the morning.

After a bit, another clear repeat became audible. It was the message Meyneth had said Fiora wanted to pass to Shulk. Melia recalled that she was then suddenly awoken, so she missed most of it. But by pure dumb luck, she was getting another chance, and so listened intently.

"You're in good hands, Shulk. Don't let me get in the way of...whoever you find next."

Suddenly the dream exploded into a thousand different pieces. It was like looking into a kaleidoscope of scenes and events, with a cacophony of many voices coming out of each window, the few she could understand formed of quotes from the past.

Sharla. "The longer he's away, the more chance his feelings for you will fade."

Her mother. "You don't have to marry if you don't want to. You're lucky."

Shulk. "Y'know, Melia, you kind of remind me of her."

Yumea. "Children like you are not married for any reason but prestige."

Reyn. "Important?! She's more than important! She's the reason we're out here!"

Kallian. "I find it inconceivable that the forefathers would have no provision for the two-consort system with a half-blooded ruler. We will find it."

Shulk again. "You look absolutely mellifluous."

Meyneth. "...whoever you find next."

The other voice that came out of Face Nemesis, presumably Fiora's, emitting no words but a lengthy giggle. The world seemed to dim as the giggle continued.

Before it all faded to black, there was a flash of red light, and the scene changed again. It appeared to be outside during the day, presumably at high altitude, as neither titan was immediately visible. What was immediately visible was Yaldabaoth, its head missing with Egil sitting in the centre. Shulk was perched on the Mechon near him. Everything appeared oddly monochromatic, with a red tint washed over and blurred peripheral vision.

Melia felt a strange sort of compulsion hanging over her body, as if her actions were scripted and she had to follow some hidden directions to the letter. Yet it still felt completely natural for her to turn and see Vanea behind, with Dickson hanging around as well.

She realised that Shulk had been talking for a bit, and she missed most of it before starting to pay attention.

"...peace again."

Egil answered. "Again? I see. Yes, you're right." He started to get up.

There was a gunshot. Shulk spasmed and clutched his chest.

Melia immediately turned around to see Dickson, his weapon raised and smoking.

"You shouldn't have done that, little brat."

The scene stuttered, freezing in time for a split second several times, progressing at inconsistent speed between each one. One stutter even caused time to be reversed for a moment. It was as if something was attempting to interrupt a recorded video.

After several stutters, the interruption succeeded. The red tint over Melia's vision shattered and fell to the floor as if a pair of glasses had been destroyed, bringing full colour to the world and casting the unnatural feeling of compulsion off her. There was no more feeling of trying to follow a script - just the scene and her own instincts.

Ignoring everything else around her, Melia sprinted towards Dickson. She could blast him in the head with a bolt, but that would probably just kill him instantly, and that was no good. First he had to suffer.

Dickson appeared moderately surprised, but overall calm as he reloaded his Sabre and pointed it at his approaching opponent.

Melia grasped the Imperial Staff tightly as she leapt towards him. She couldn't wait to see fresh scars on the traitor's face.

There was another gunshot.

It wasn't a gunshot. It was the sound of Melia delivering a punch at maximum power into her solid ebony bedpost.

"Ffffffffffffffffffff-" She clutched her hand in agony and scrunched up her whole face, rapidly battering her legs on the mattress. It wasn't a swear trying to come out, but rather her best attempt at restraining a full-lung screech. She'd been injured far worse before with less reaction, but waking up to it in the dark made the pain especially sharp.

It took several minutes to recover enough from the incident to take her staff with the healthy hand and summon an aqua. The pain immediately began dulling much faster.

By the time she could operate her fingers again, she remembered what had caused the lash-out in the first place - a dream where Dickson shot Shulk.

Ugh. I'm going to be thinking about that every time I see him now. I may not trust him, but even I find it unfathomable to think he would do such a thing. That's not what I need.

Melia sat for a few minutes recalling the nature of the dream. It felt a lot different than her normal dreams, especially the colourless haze that hung over most of the scene, and the strange way that she suddenly gained control after it stuttered and shattered. Was it really a dream, or something that came from Meyneth? It obviously couldn't be a memory.

Could it have been a vision of the future, like Shulk's? No, of course not. Only two people in the universe could have visions - Alvis and Shulk - and in both cases the Monado was the source. Meyneth had no such connection to the Monado. Still, it was eerily similar to how Shulk described his visions - a flash of light followed by a scene playing out in a monochrome mist. It seemed a little too spot-on for it to just be another figment of a dream.

Stop thinking about it, or it'll become more difficult to forget.

Melia lobbed her staff back where it belonged and dove back under the covers. The faster she could get back to sleep, and hopefully have another dream take over her short-term memory, the better.