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*sigh* Never imagined we'd get a hot meal indoors safe and sound, after so many days on the run.

That Bagpipe girl must be the darling of everyone. We were all gushing to her about how good her stew was.

Mm, she's definitely not bad on that front.

How's your discussion on settling down? Has it been smooth?

We're all decided. Anyone who can't handle rushing'll stay behind. They'll borrow two storehouses to tuck away in for the next two days.

Refugees scuffling with caravans but never actually stealing anything, that's dead common. The law won't get hung up on that.

In a few days, they won't be mentioning it on the radio anymore, and we won't need to hide. Then we can get to building our own houses.

Er, but the few with Oripathy'll be living a bit ways out from the village.

The people here are very friendly.

*sigh* Yeah, they are. If anyone sheltered us while we were still running, we wouldn't be in this sty of a state now.

Not that it's anyone's fault. Didn't used to be much hassle taking in a bunch of refugees or the like, but life's getting scarier for everyone now.

Look at Selmon, the colleen. If she and her brother had someplace to take them in, she wouldn't be running from settlement to settlement, kicking up all this fuss.

She could spend the night in the village like us, but she's all stubborn about hiding outside. Since she stole a man's stockbeast here once, see, and now she's awkward about running into him...

...*sigh* You never heard it from me. You let her know, she'll be on my case about disrespecting her again.

Good evening...

Oh, Moran? What are you doing here, so dark out? I'll send you back while the lamps are still lit...

Thank you, but I'm used to making my way in the dark by now...

...Is Reed here, if you don't mind?

You're looking for her? She went out on her own.

Maybe Reed's got something on her mind... Selmon hasn't spoken so much as a word to her since she got here.

Don't worry, Bagpipe's gone to find her.

Hm... actually, put it this way. Our bigger concern is if Reed gets annoyed by the noise.

Whoa, sorry!

...It's alright.

Oh, I wasn't watchin' out, didn't think there'd be anyone here. It all goes pitch dark every time they sound the bell. Takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.

Lucky it's you I ran into. Might've knocked anyone else clean over.

Thought they said they wouldn't need anyone on watch tonight, though?

I just... wanted to sit for a while outside.

Oh, it's the smell of the hay, isn't it? Wonderful, that.

...Hay?

Yeah, that's hay piles over there. Been ages since I was around the smell, so I came out to get a proper whiff of them.

Back when I was preppin' to get into military school, I'd have headaches from studyin' so much theory. So I'd just get onto a hay pile and lie back for a bit, and I'd feel right as rain again.

Mum always told me off for bein' lazy, said I shouldn't quit thinkin' about questions just because thinkin' gets too hard... but havin' too much stuff goin' on in your brain does wear a person out, y'know.

...Mm.

So, give me your hand a sec?

Um...

Come on, here now, let's lie down together! Just for a bit!

I'm not so good at thinkin' over stuff, so I might not be of much help to you, but the hay will be, I'm sure of it!

Hup—!

Bagpipe relaxes and lies back on the hay pile, lightly humming a folksong she learned just a while ago from the farmers.

A gentle night breeze passes by. Reed follows her suggestion, and takes a deep breath.

But what she smells isn't the aroma of hay—it is, instead, damp mud and ash.

When it hits me how I've spent three years without goin' home, it always feels so funny.

Think about it. The ground's waitin' for you to till it, the wheat's waitin' for you to reap it... Spend one year away, and you miss an entire go round of all the important stuff, every bit of it.

I can't even get my letters from home until the next time I'm back on Rhodes Island.

Do you... miss home very much?

Course I do. You? Were you from County Hillock?

...No.

But I used to live in a city about the same as County Hillock... flushed red bricks, grey pavements. Buildings two or three floors high, flowering vines growing around the windows.

I... yearn after those peaceful times a lot.

There were so many old books at home, and some manuscripts too. I liked to hide away in the study, and lock the door, so I wouldn't have to hear anyone talk to me.

Oh, you had piles of family makin' a racket, then? Or was it visitors all the time?

...No, thankfully. Just—I could avoid so much trouble if I hid.

I could see into the street from the window in there. I'd see my parents come back after a day of work.

I would love to go back there, if I could.

Oh. So the place isn't...

Mm.

I'm sorry... I'm makin' it worse for you, aren't I?

It's okay. It was all so long ago.

I might not be much different—to the ordinary people whose lives were ruined at County Hillock, or to these refugees leaving their home behind.

They can all settle down here, and rebuild their houses... but—where is their homeland?

And the ones who are—forced out even farther... where are they fleeing to?

Hmm... You're havin' trouble answerin' these questions just on your lonesome, aren't you?

Mm...

But I'm not sayin' it's no use thinkin' over them!

If you can't come up with an answer alone, we can think together. Whenever I had a question I couldn't fill in, I'd always bother Chenchen about it.

And later down the line, I'd prattle on at my captains... I mean, they found me annoyin' as flip, but still, they'd chat with me every time, help me solve issues.

What about you? You got anyone to speak your mind to? Like a sister or a schoolmate or someone in arms, that sort of...

There's... my older sister.

But...

You don't get along much?

...No. I shouldn't be saying this. I shouldn't...

Y'know, Selmon was right about one thing, actually. You're always sayin' 'no' out of habit.

But she misunderstood a little. It's when you're talkin' about yourself that you're most fond of sayin' 'no', like... och, I can't put it into words. It's like you're strainin' to break away from somethin'.

...I've been told something like that before.

Oh, what? Really?

She... saved me, and told me, I didn't have to seek death. That I could dodge destiny.

Outcast, eh. There's somethin' she would say.

I regret... I regret not having it in me to say anything more to her.

I want to ask her so badly—why save me?

What... did she see in me?

Ohh. I'm not sure how she'd answer myself.

But, y'know, Reed, why not ask yourself before askin' her? What do you see in yourself?

My... self?

Oh, someone's over there.

With the way they feel about, I think it's Moran... She can't see at night.

Gosh, why's she out here by herself, then?

Miss Moran! Need any help from us?

Oh, you just stand still there for a sec, we'll be right over.

...Thank you.

Where's Reed, can I ask? They said, she'd gone out.

I'm right here.

...Sorry. Excuse me, but am I able to go with you?

I don't mind where it is. I've still got some strength, I can work... and fight.

You want to... fight?

I do. They all say I won't live much longer, that my only option's dying without a word in some corner.

I don't agree with that.

'If you want to survive as a Taran, then change workshops, and accept lower pay'. 'If you want to survive as with Oripathy, then move out, and get to the Infected neighborhood'...

I'm done listening to all that.

Reed, I used to not be this way, but then I met you.

They tell me you're an Infected too. It's you who convinced Selmon and the rest to bring us here.

You... trust me, like Fionn does?

Please, no pressure, I... I don't want to be a burden on you, or anyone.

I just want to do something, anything. People like me have nothing left to lose as is.

If I can bring something or other to the rest of the Tarans, then I want to do it. If my legs will still walk forward, then I want to go with you.

I think that's fine. Reed, for now, let's go together. How about it?

To the red-haired Vouivre, the question's not one Reed needs to respond to, because she starts pulling Reed along before an answer even comes.

Reed takes a glance back at their visitor. She knows Moran has night blindness, and needs someone to guide the way when darkness falls.

With little time to hesitate, Reed extends a hand to Moran.

...Let's go.

Here you finally are, Miss Harmonie. I was beginning to think I'd never see you today.

A wine tasting courtesy of the Viscount? How could I ever miss it?

But of course, but of course. A friend of the Marquess of Trent! You're the Viscount's guest of honor.

It's all thanks to your introducing me that I closed out that bit of prior business. I've been looking for an opportunity to thank you all this time.

Oh, it was quite nothing, Mr. Hall.

I've no noble personage, or even property in my name. At most, I'm just a messenger, scampering around so the ones in charge don't have to.

(Toasts)

Who might he be...?

The council's pet. A Mr. Fischer.

Oh? Well, I've certainly never heard of him before.

He only transferred to this county a short while ago. Youngsters like him tend to have to break their backs a little if they want a quick promotion.

Heheh. A universal truth, no?

You're too modest.

Oh, yes, I hear from some friends that the Dukes' armies are very frequently on the move now. They've put every core city of their duchies under strict martial law.

You've always been on top of the news... could you lend me a sly word, whether war seems imminent?

The papers certainly forecast it, don't they? After all, the Dukes' fleets did trundle up to Londinium's walls some while ago.

I'm not much concerned with the Sarkaz. I'm referring to between the Dukes... ahem, based on hearsay, that is. Just hearsay.

There's been a lot of Originium fuel circulating into County Trent. The Marquess and the Duke of Caster have always been jolly with each other, but County Trent and the Iron Duke's duchy share a border...

My, my, Mr. Hall, all intercity fuel trade requires inspection and approval. I presume you have some <i>very</i> good friends in municipal management, no?

Ha... haha, just for business purposes.

Miss Harmonie, you might not follow the war too closely, but... you came in from another city, didn't you?

You've been fortunate not to run into any hassle when you did, but I do ask you take care on the return journey.

I hear it's hideous in the villages beyond the nomadic cities. There's rebel elements popping up now and then. Even a case of arson a few days ago.

What sort of rebel elements are these to earn your attention?

Attention is a strong word—similar things happen in spades anywhere the bumpkins live.

It's that fire that's strange... hahah. This might not be true, so pretend I'm just telling you about some country tale.

Eyewitnesses say that fire wasn't quite your ordinary one. It was ferocious as an explosion, but not a hint of Originium explosives was found where it happened. And the nightmarish effort it took to extinguish it...

Unusual fire.

All too likely to be a coincidence, but all too familiar of a description to her.

Could it be... Loughshinny?

Harmonie is stunned.

'The Brigadier's' warning has certainly roused some anxieties deep in her heart. Ever since that Rhodes Island ship had sailed into Victoria, she'd been absent any hold of information on Loughshinny.

Someone, without a doubt, had been helping Rhodes Island cover their tracks. Clearly, this pharmaceutical company was not as simple as she first assumed.

And on the same coin, a Loughshinny aboard Rhodes Island would be a Loughshinny immensely difficult for the rest of Victoria's powers to find.

So why... why would Loughshinny leave the ship?

Why would she surface somewhere so close to Eblana?

From behind Harmonie, there is a gaze.

Her every move has been closely watched since the second she stepped into the ballroom.

But it is this moment when the gaze truly focuses on her.

Miss Harmonie?

...Hm?

I'm sorry... I was just thinking about the dance tonight. Say, what color earrings would I be best off wearing?

...Sir, I assume you've seen the relevant dossier, as well as all my reports.

I suggest we commence operation immediately...

Very well done, youngster. Have you tried the whiskey-filled chocolates out on the table?

I hope you're well, Duke of Caster. I didn't expect you would grace this party, let alone be waiting here.

Who could miss such a grand soirée? Just listening to the chamber performance blows my cares away, even from behind my partition.

I do hope you're enjoying yourself too.

I'm... still on duty. I can't be complacent.

Our every effort is made so that the masses can enjoy their serene lives.

Intelligence officers may be the lookouts, forced to keep a tense nerve even in times of peace, but you'll have your serenity one day.

Lest I forget. How's your health?

My gratitude for your concern, Duke. It floors me that you note the infection of an average intelligence officer like myself.

I—

Don't be nervous. You're not hiding anything. As I say, you've done very well.

By way of a reward, would you like a promotion after your mission is over, or would you like to quit?