act39side

Thank you for dinner, Javi. It was delicious.

Señora Juana... I have some questions.

Go on then, no need to hold back.

I feel it's a little... risky, to be hunting such a massive saltfin with the men we have.

Wouldn't it be safer to go after a school of smaller ones?

The saltfin schools we've reeled in have been far too small. We'll need a lot more alchemical materials for what is to come.

We've already prepared plenty.

Still far from enough. The compass was just the beginning. We'll need so much more once we enter the ocean.

Poz, the last cook, said you like to make some crazy decisions. Most of the time, it makes our blood run hot with excitement.

But other times, it makes our blood turn to ice.

...Yet he was ever-loyal to me, supporting even those decisions that made him freeze up inside.

Is that what you expect from me too?

No. Which is why he's the previous cook and you're the new one.

Do you really wish to spend the rest of your life worrying about your next meal? This is our chance. Seize it, and all our problems vanish forever.

The ocean managed to nurture the entirety of the Golden Age, but our entire fleet can't even compare to your average gang of smugglers.

But the Salt Flat has nurtured us for decades! It hasn't been easy, but you've led us through the years.

The Flat is too barren for us.

And the ocean is too dangerous for us.

Think about the townsfolk. They would like nothing more than to be rid of us, and their net draws ever closer.

You were never afraid of them!

It's not them that I'm afraid of.

It's the Flat. Its ecosystem is about to collapse.

That fissure was just the beginning. Survey teams are reporting that large voids have appeared beneath the Salt Flat, where underground rivers have dried up.

Voids?

The underground rivers are drying up. The number of microorganisms has dropped sharply, and with it, the number of saltfins that feed upon them.

It's been a long time since one of our finships encountered a large school of saltfins.

Why didn't you tell us?

What was I supposed to say? That we're finished if we don't escape this place? What would that accomplish other than causing a panic?

Is this the only way then?

...Yes, it's the only way.

A little to the left... thanks.

Mmph!

Yes... now a little harder.

Mmph—!

That was a long day, learning to catch saltfins with Señor Rus... Ow, my aching shoulders...

Mm, yes, that's the spot.

Nene stomps even harder on Isidro's back as he inhales and exhales deeply.

Nene...

Mm-ph!

Never mind, you wouldn't understand.

...It's not like I don't want to help you all.

When I was little, a beggar taught me a few tricks, just to earn scraps on the streets.

But when I met my mentor, he told me those weren't tricks.

It was alchemy.

Mm... hmph...

I was fascinated by alchemical studies. It earned me praise from my mentor, and recognition from my peers.

And most importantly, I was no longer a street urchin with nothing to my name.

I was worth something.

That is, until I learned the most fundamental nature of that school of alchemy...

Isidro pauses. Nene stops stomping and looks up perplexedly.

You can never abandon what you have, Isidro.

You fear you will go back to having nothing if you fail.

But the nature of alchemy is to achieve your goal, devoting everything to it, no matter the cost.

The stakes, everything... The return, a chance.

Why is it that only our alchemy was used to sail the seas? Because the ocean demands such quality.

Sensing Isidro's depression, Nene lies down on his back and chirps gently.

Rus was right. You all just want to live a decent life. Repairing the compass and going to sea... It's not worth the risk.

But I'm curious... how exactly is Juana's compass constructed?

The Corazonix inside... does it truly point towards whatever your heart yearns for the most, as the stories say?

If I just had the chance to study it...

Did you fall asleep?

I'm curious. What's going on in my own heart?

Flowers?

Doctor Añora was the first to plant them in town, decades ago. For use in ointments.

Ah... I have seen them before, in the halls of the Bastión de Cánticos.

I've never been.

All I know is that it is the first flower to bloom from the salted earth of Aarón, after so many years of being besieged by the sea.

The townsfolk used to give me these, as a token of appreciation I think.

Now, I feel I should be offering them to you.

No, señor, I am unworthy.

Had you not taken those... measures towards the caravans, to obtain the predator burdenbeasts...

We could never have gone after those despicable bandits in the Salt Flat.

I did no more than what must be done.

Your duty, of course.

I believe you mentioned you are after a forbidden relic the bandits have stolen.

What sort of relic could it possibly be, to bring you all the way to this barren land?

A... compass.

There are thousands of antique compasses from old Iberia.

None like this. This one corrupts the heart.

It points towards the user's deepest desires, dredged from the depths of the heart... Or so it is said.

But those who cast their eyes towards such base desires can never turn back.

It drives them to theft, robbery, murder. They cannot stop themselves, try as they might.

...You really think so?

It is simply the truth.

Is this what you've been preaching to the townsfolk these past few days?

It was not I who preached. The people here already understood this truth, more profoundly than I ever have.

Someone had already revealed it to them. Perhaps you?

...Yes, it was me.

It was I who issued those prohibitions.

Why stop then? Why lift the prohibition?

Look at this town. No one here dares touch the new goods and technologies that the caravans bring. No one dares leave their house after dark.

They dare not fill their stomachs... even in years of plenty.

Every word I used to shackle these poor people has continued to shackle them.

They see it differently.

Was it not your deeds that helped them lay aside their dreams and laments for wealth and power. Was it not your words that encouraged them to take up the hoe and the scythe?

Times have changed, Señor Alguacil.

Times never change, Señor Calificador.

The deepest desires of the heart should never be probed. Not by anyone, not anywhere.

Never.

Saltfins ahoy!