Galaens hadn't changed much in the five months since Fenix Black had last been there. The city had evidently recovered from whatever disruption Theleaus's invasion had caused; the only sign that anything happened was all the rumors from people wondering what happened.

No one remembered anything, not Theleaus, not Zach Kaiser, not Sturm, not even him. (Not Shin either, but Fenix didn't much care what happened to him.) This was...odd. Perhaps Mayako's reason for not remembering it had nothing to do with trauma after all. Which was good, but unfortunately meant that he had no clues not only where his mentor might have gone, but also anyone who would might know.

He was planning to go back to the church first anyway, but he was keeping his ear to the ground all the same.

The trip back was going to be tough though. He could mostly move around on his own, but was still lacking in strength; if was wearing out just being in town, once he was on the road he'd need frequent rests. And while he wasn't alone, he wasn't sure the other person was particularly concerned with his well being...

Emma Vaerbond was sitting in the same place he'd left her, which made him wonder if she'd even moved. "I'm all done shopping, and I got us a room at an inn. They serve food at the bar too, so let's eat."

He was now sporting a shirt that actually fit him, but this was offset by the fact that he was visibly struggling to remain standing with his pack on his shoulder. No, the trip back wasn't going to be easy at all.

Fenix left Emma near the road, where the main route from Hillcrest hit Galaens. She seemed content to stay there, where she didn't have to actually enter the town. When Fenix returned, she was right where she was before--her bag sitting next to her, just as before, completely untouched. Emma was doing little more than staring, watching the treeline as if something might change.

She was idle. Currently, she wanted to remain idle.

Unfortunately, that wasn't in the cards. At least, not if Fenix could have his way. Emma looked up to him when he came back, and noted that he was no longer wearing a shirt that didn't fit him. He looked much less ridiculous now; still kind of ridiculous, like some brand of dark and brooding figure that was out to be noticed as a dark and brooding figure, but still. It was betting than sporting a midriff shirt, even if his idea of fashion completely sucked.

"What, you're hungry?" she asked, her tone a vaguely critical one.

Maybe she was just used to starving herself, though. Emma didn't get hungry very often anymore. She didn't feel hunger pains, and hadn't for awhile; she could only feel sickness and other such stomach pains that were all indicative of everything but hunger. She didn't feel hungry right now, and didn't much want to go much further into Galaens. If she had her way, they would've just skimmed the edges of town continued on south to Raigeki, but Fenix just had to get a new shirt . . .

"I'm not," she concluded, "Go eat without me, I'll wait here."

With a sigh, Fenix lowered his bag to the ground. Emma was going to be difficult. "I said I got an inn room; whether you eat or not, we're going to be staying there. And you should eat something. Being on the road isn't the same as sitting in bed all day." She may be able to get away with not eating for long periods of time when all she did was lay down, but she was going to get herself killed if she tried to walk any appreciable distance on an empty stomach.

Emma may have preferred to move on right away, but that wasn't an option. It was already evening, and his strength was wearing thin, and one more night he could spend inside in a bed was worth the cost. Fortunately, being a city based on trade, Galaens had fairly cheap rooms.

They couldn't, however, afford to stay more than one night. Fenix had little doubt this would be the first place the villagers looked if they figured he was no longer around Hillcrest.

Emma averted her eyes from him. Maybe he was right about that, but they just started. She could afford to go an evening without any strong source of nutrients.

If, perhaps, it were to occur to Fenix that she had reservations about being in Galaens, he would be absolutely correct--but beyond that, there'd be little less than speculation. The man didn't know Emma, nor any of the reasons that she might not want to spend too long in Galaens . . . or be in plain sight, for that matter.

"You got a room?" she asked rhetorically.

There were a lot of places to get rooms here in Galaens, and since it seemed that Fenix got a room for the both of them--or two rooms, or something, it didn't really matter; Emma could be shameless when it made life easier--she figured that she might as well find out where, and just go to that room straight away.

"Where is it? I'll just meet you there."

Fenix tapped his foot impatiently. "You just want to wait until I'm asleep so I can't argue with you." She might have had a perfectly good reason to avoid being Galaens, but as far as Fenix knew she was just being stubborn and moody. At least it was unlikely she'd run into anyone she knew at an inn, however, since she'd rarely had reason to stay the night in town.

"Look, if you're going to come with me, you need to learn to take care of yourself, because I'm still not strong to take care of you myself. If you were to collapse, I doubt I could carry you to safety." This was his primary concern; at the very least, should something happen normally, he could probably trust her to run to safety. But if she continued to refuse to eat she wouldn't last long enough to get to the next town, let alone escape from any danger they might encounter.

"Besides, we're not going to have much to eat on the road, so you should fill up while you can--even if right now it's not much." If Emma hadn't eaten in a long time, chances were she wouldn't have much of an appetite until she started again, and the sooner she did, the sooner her body could get the energy she needed.

For a moment, Emma didn't say anything at all. She averted her eyes from Fenix and tried to disregard his existence to the very best of her ability.

In the end, she couldn't--if only because he had a point. She did require nutrients, or else she would risk just outright falling on their way somewhere, and just not having the strength to get up; if that happened, it was just as Fenix said. He wouldn't have the strength to carry her. She'd have no other choice but to lay where she fell and leave it at that. There, she might just die of starvation, dehydration, or predators getting to her before either of those could kick in.

Death on the road wasn't a very thrilling plan.

". . . whatever," Emma relented begrudgingly.

Reluctant to enter Galaens for any reason, Emma stood and turned to the town. She didn't know where Fenix was staying, but she slung her things over her shoulder and prepared to follow him.

Fenix considered it a sign of improvement that he could now actually convince Emma of something. Even if said thing was in her own best interest anyway, that was still a step up from before.

Picking up his pack once again, he led her to a fairly large inn on the main road through town. It was an inn that especially catered to those just passing through; it offered beds, good (if simple) food, drinks, and little else. Not the kind of place you'd stay with your family on vacation, but perfectly acceptable for those who simply needed a roof over their heads for the night.

As they entered, it was naturally fairly busy, but also fairly tame. It catered to those on business more than to adventurers, who tended to prefer slightly more rowdy locations.

He led Emma to a pair of empty stools at the counter and sat down. "Order what you like," he said. Places like this didn't have anything terribly expensive, and he doubted she'd eat much anyway.

The girl followed Fenix with the same air of reluctance as before. She paid no attention to the rest of Galaens around her, instead staring down at Fenix's shoes. He could have lead her anywhere here, she she'd have followed him without question. She simply wasn't watching where he was going or their surroundings.

When they arrived at the inn, she first paid numerous glances around to the patrons at the first floor bar of Fenix's choice. She didn't feel like she recognized any of them, so she didn't question it--she simply followed Fenix to the bar and took a seat next to him.

Emma really didn't feel that hungry at all. She kind of just wanted to eat something like or . . . or something, or maybe just take this moment to sojourn to the room Fenix got and call it an early night. Go to sleep early, wake up early--wake up before everyone else is out, and get out of town quick. That would've been her preferred way of going about business in Galaens, but as Fenix reminded her, she needed to eat something.

"I don't care," she muttered, "Salad or something."

It was a choice of habit. She always ate salad back before all hell took over the village and her life. Back then, she was extremely self conscious; she wanted to look older, more attractive, and feared the idea that she might wind up being of heftier build like her sister. Now, she didn't care about any of that. Hers were little more than activities of habit, formed over year of flawed ideologies and desires.

Well, he supposed that something light to start off was best, given that she hadn't eaten in quite some time. Well, once she starts exerting herself, she'll get hungry again.

He ordered a sandwich for himself; there was no point in ordering anything fancy, as it wouldn't live up to the food he'd gotten used to eating in Hillcrest. It was a shame Mayako was volunteering at the clinic; she could probably open a restaurant and make a fortune there.

As for drinks, he felt water was adequate; he didn't drink much himself, and Emma was still too young to be served, to be sure.

Emma ordered a salad and a water. It was a simple order. She could've had more, but she didn't feel hunger pains--nothing powerful enough to spur the want or need to eat much more than this.

When she ate, she ate quickly and in silence. It was as if she had somewhere to be and was in a hurry to get there--which was, in actuality, the full truth of the matter. Emma wanted to get up to the room Fenix purchased as quickly as she possibly could, but also acknowledged the usefulness of money. If she didn't eat everything, then Fenix was wasting his money on her. It was this method of efficient thinking-- a more customary one, for that matter: cost efficiency --that could sometimes get her in trouble.

At least, what she considered trouble, currently . . .

"Emma? Emma Vaerbond?"

She perked her head up when she heard the voice. Bad idea, she immediately thought after the fact. Emma didn't look for the source of the male voice coming from somewhere behind her. If Fenix looked at her, he'd see that she was tensed up like someone bordering on panic.

He'd also likely see the source of the voice before Emma did. He was a tall man, a well dressed man, with olive complexion and dark and curly hair. Clearly, he was an older man; he had to be in his mid forties. He wore a curious look, however, and not one of anger; he definitely did not look like the type of man that Emma should have been tensed up and nervous to be around.

Fenix wouldn't have thought much of someone knowing Emma, but the way she tensed suggested that this was someone she wanted to avoid speaking to for one reason or another. He gave a quick glance at the older man; he certainly didn't look dangerous, so he suspected that Emma was just trying to avoid people who knew her in general.

Actually, this might be bad; we don't want it getting out that she's with me.

"Don't act like you know me," he muttered under his breath to Emma; she was smart enough that she could probably figure out why. Unfortunately, it meant that as far as conversation went she was on her own.

Emma gave Fenix a strange look--the kind that begged him, in a sardonic kind of way, to rethink what he just said. How many free barstools were there? How many places did she have to sit in this bar? This bar wasn't full to the brim. She had more places to sit than she could shake a stick at. Why, then, did she sit right next to him? Either she knew him or he was trying to get to know her--or maybe she was trying to get to know him. No matter what, if someone knew of Fenix's identity, there was no happy solution. Emma was in sync with his concerns, but there was a chance that she understood the rules of futility better than he did.

She'd just have to make up a new name for him. Chances were no one had seen his face up here; no one to attribute his image to his name.

The man leaned over the bar on Emma's other side, to get a better look at the girl. Emma didn't notice this until it was too late.

"It is! It really is you!" the man exclaimed in a sudden burst of joy.

Emma froze up in an instant. The man already had his arms around her before she realized she was being hugged. He let her go soon after, and didn't seem to do anything out of the question. Like a merger of a creaking door and a deer in headlights, Emma slowly turned to face the man.

"It's been forever!" the man exclaimed.

"Y-yeah . . . i-it has, um," Emma muttered.

"You told me you'd keep in touch, too," the man remarked.

". . . sorry," Emma whispered, "I'm bad at that . . ."

The man was definitely a friend of Emma's; Fenix suspected that made Emma more edgy than he if he'd been some former enemy. For whatever reason, perhaps guilt, she didn't seem to feel comfortable around anyone who'd been close to her. Which probably made him a good traveling partner for her, suspected: she didn't care enough about him to have any kind of discomfort around him.

It wasn't that he was worried the man would recognize him--word wouldn't have spread that fast--but if it got back to the village that Emma was traveling with him, she could be in almost as much trouble as if she'd been caught red-handed.

But even aside that, he wasn't sure exactly what she expected him to do. She knew this person, he didn't; he didn't have anything in particular to say to him one way or the other. At best, if Emma decided to lie to him he could try and corroborate it, or he could step forward as her guardian if he was concerned about her being out alone.

Besides, she was going to have to learn to deal with people; wanting to go on journey to find...well, something was all well and good, but he was beginning to suspect she was really just running from her problems.

"What's it been?" the man thought aloud, "Two months?"

"Y-yeah," Emma responded, "About that . . ."

It took her a moment to get her bearings. When she did, it was noticeable. It was as if all discomfort and anxiety disappeared from her entirely.

"I'm just in town for a little while," Emma declared, now perfectly calm, "I'm sorry I didn't stop in."

Alphonse scrunched his brow as he stared at Emma. He looked for something in her face--but even he probably didn't know what. It was easy to tell that something was off, but impossible to figure out just what that was. It was in that moment, however, that Alphonse made note of Fenix.

"And this young man is . . . ?" Alphonse asked.

At first, Emma looked confused. Once Alphonse motioned towards Fenix, though, she became acutely aware of how right she was when she thought about lying about Fenix's name.

"He's a friend," Emma replied without hesitation, "Simurgh Feldgrau."

It was a name she made up on the spot, and not actually the most creative name in the world. Fenix came from Pheonix, for which there were numerous names. Simurgh happened to be one particular name--an old, old, old Algerothian name that most people never even heard of. Most didn't know about the old mythologies, after all. The last name was simply a color for black that originated from Greoul. While uncreative, this at least showed that Emma was an extremely well read person.

Alphonse looked Fenix over for a long moment, almost as if he were trying to detect signs that the man might be a danger to Emma. Emma noticed this, and feeling immediately awkward, decided to go about the route of deterrence via introductions.

"Alphonse, this is my friend Simurgh," Emma declared as she leaned back, in case either man wanted to shake the other's hand, "Simurgh, this is Alphonse, my old boss."

Alphonse reached his hand out to the man he now knew as Simurgh Feldgrau. "And friend, too," he added to Emma's introduction--which Emma did not seem to argue with, but clearly felt a pang of guilt regarding it.

If it had been two months since Alphonse saw Emma, it was reasonable to believe that was the length of time she'd spent in the hospital. He wondered if Mayako had watched over her that entire time, every day wondering if she might decide to finally get out of bed...or give up and take her own life.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Fenix wasn't going to get out of the situation that easily, though. Alphonse immediately jumped to the conclusion that he was with her, and rather than deny it Emma created a false name for him. He resisted the urge to frown; he hated it when people made puns on his name.

He turned around and shook the man's hand with only slight hesitation. "Nice to meet you," he greeted, faking a Greoulian accent.

"And what is it Miss Emma did for you?" he asked, curious as to what exactly a twelve year old would do for employment.