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Good. Get over here.

Bite down on the hilt. Hard.

Grkh...

This'll sting a little. Just bear with it.

GKKHHH—!

Thorns!

How could they do you dirty like this on your own wanted poster? What's with that picture?

...Why are you so quick to concede that it's Thorns now? Weren't you just insisting it was all a mistaken identity?

What if those bandits forced him into it? Or maybe he was framed? He's not much of a talker. I can definitely see him putting his foot in his mouth while explaining himself.

If he is the upstanding young man you say he is, then surely he's dead by now, killed by either the bandits or by the dangers of the Salt Flat.

No... What exactly would they do to him?

They like to... No, you would be happier not knowing.

We've done all we can to keep them away from town, but they've still managed to abduct some of our best and brightest.

Their leader is a vile monster, able to corrupt the hearts of others.

Oh...

Time to start cooking... Hmm? Who touched my kitchen?

(Cautious sniff)

That smell... It's coming from the pot over there...

Stewed fin hearts? This is Señora Juana's specialty.

But they went bad ages ago. Better put that fire out.

During the Profound Silence, most of Aarón was submerged under the sea. Only this small part atop the hill avoided that grim fate, but it too shortly fell to chaos as the harvest failed.

The pirates sailed in before the seawater retreated. They claimed they would bring order to Aarón.

But in truth, they only wished to burn, kill and maim, forcing the townsfolk to surrender to their reign of terror.

Everything they saw was put to the torch...

Fire! HELP! FIRE! The pot blew up!

Mierda! Why's there a fire here?!

Javier, you dried-out piece of finshit! How many times do I have to tell you NOT to let this useless cockeyed bastard in the kitchen until he gets some glasses?!

Ohh... It was fin oil... Sorry, was all blurry to me!

Out of my sight, dumbass!

—Where the hell's Javier? Get over here and put out this fire already!

Quick, cover it with salt!

Ahh! My clothes! I <i>just</i> sewed up that finleather coat!

...Mmm... Roast finleather smells... pretty good...

Even if he is lucky enough to be alive, the bandits themselves live harsh lives in the wastes. Surely they wouldn't treat their captives well. He's most likely dying of hunger and thirst at this very moment.

Are you alright, Elysium?

I'm fine... Señor Calificador, please, continue.

Needless to say, we can only pray he does nothing to incur their wrath.

Their punishments are as barbaric as they are capricious. They'll slit open bellies or chop off hands and feet over the slightest offense...

To think they'd twist the law like that...

S—Slit open bellies or chop off hands and feet, you say...?

AHHH—HHHHH!

Hah... Hah...

Get some rum! Give him a swig!

Rus! Rus! How's my leg...?

Alright... Lie down, and stay calm...

Your leg's still out in the Flat. It won't hurt any longer.

We've been looking after you here, Cesc. Don't worry, the surgery was a success. You won't be dying today.

Oh... Oh...

I just cut his leg off. I can't call it surgery.

He's alive. That's surgery enough for us.

Calm down, Elysium. There's nothing to suggest that these bandits have killed him.

I don't want to think too much about the possibility, but... where would we even go to find out?

Weedy does not answer. In the distance, several corpses hang from a pole outside of town, swinging in the wind.

A fowl lands atop it, feasting on the carrion.

Oh, you two are guests of the Inquisition.

Those were bandits caught by the Alguacil. They were hanged, all according to the teachings.

Their bodies will serve as a warning to others of their kind.

Dead if you stick with the bandits, dead if you come back looking like a bandit...

Thorns...

Hey, joven, you still want that paper you're holding?

Nah, I don't need it anymore. Here, take it.

Gracias. Finally found something to stick my bed together with.

Hmm? Isn't this...

What, have you seen him before?

Of course I have. I even sheltered him for a night.

The fleet's heading out into the flat to hunt saltfins in a few days, and I'd like the boy to come along.

We've lost a lot of men this month, and our surgeon and navigator sacrificed themselves to get us out of the Inquisition's trap. I think he can fill in for their posts.

That's how you plan to fix our manpower problem?

I only let him help on the salvage ship because of Teach's guarantee, but did he not almost run away today?

And now you're telling me you want him to join you on a finship.

Señora... I know he's a precious, precious alchemist, but he's great with a sword too and knows his medicine. He'll be real handy during a hunt.

You might as well open the door and let him leave. He'll find no shortage of opportunities to escape out there.

I'm a pirate, Rus. We're not the most kind-hearted sort.

Please, señora, we've lost way too many men in these last few tussles with the Inquisition.

You're not the only one in this fleet who needs him... We all do.

He's far from a good little boy, you know. In fact, he's rather naughty. How will you ensure he does as he's told?

He'd never met Pascuala before, but he still saved her sorry behind when the Inquisition was chasing her down, and saw her safely to town. Didn't ask for a reward, neither.

He could've left Cesc to die, but he didn't. Chose to come back and help us save him.

He... He's a good kid. An honest kid.

As long as we show him how much we need him, he won't just sit back and watch us suffer.

Any other news from the crew?

Nothing yet... Nothing about our food supplies for the next month, at least.

*Sigh*...

Fine, he can go with you.

So the boy was your friend, then?

A fine young man. Such a shame what happened... And in the prime of his youth...

Alright, alright, fine!

I'm going to go find him myself!

Elysium? Elysium!

Weedy, Thorns is definitely out there, waiting for us to save him!

Here, a communicator. You stay in town, I'll head out into the Salt Flat.

Huh... Wha...?

If anything happens here, contact me! We'll keep in touch—

Take care—

ELYSIUM!

Wait for me, Thorns! I'm coming!

Why do you kids never let me finish?

You were trying to say...

It's a shame a fine young man like that would come back to Iberia just to learn a bit of swordplay.

Wouldn't it be better to live out the rest of your days in some other country?