#Keimwyda was far more confused and then amused by these shenanigans than she was upset by them

[kootiepatra]

#FFxivWrite2023 - Day 10: Free Day (my word: "Young")

“Ah, Keimwyda! You have returned,” Rammbroes said, a smile breaking through his perpetual furrow of concentration. “What news of your mission? Are we any closer to acquiring the remaining abrasives?”

She nodded, and retrieved the two precious satchels out of her bag. “I’d say we are,” she smiled.

His eyes went wide. “You’ve brought both!? I shall have Master Garlond begin work on the crystals immediately.” He turned to give the order to an aide, but they were already excitedly sprinting off to find Cid. 

The Sons of Saint Coinach were not ones to rest on their laurels, Keimwyda observed.

Rammbroes turned back to her with visible relief. “I confess I can scarce believe you were able to locate them, and so quickly. Did they give you much trouble? How came you upon them?”

“Well… a bit of trouble, I suppose” she began, not fully sure how to explain what her hunt had been like. “Do you know of anyone else who would be after this sort of material?”

He shrugged. “On the one hand, it is more specialized stuff than your average tinkerer would ever require. On the other—as you have experienced yourself—it is quite rare. So everyone who knows how to use it is like to be constantly on the prowl for it. Why do you ask?”

“I had… uh, a bit of competition, you could say.”

Rammbroes’ face went deadpan, with an unspoken “Gods, what now” behind his eyes. “Do any major law enforcement agencies need to be appeased? Merchants paid off? Are there any bounties?”

“No!” she replied quickly. “Nothing like that. It was just strange…”

But before she could figure out how to get into it without forfeiting all appearances of being a professional, the renewed bustle in the camp demanded Rammbroes’ specific attention. “Would you be so kind as to fill me in later?” he asked apologetically, before being whisked off by one of the other Sons.

========

In far less time than she expected—although she really should have known better, given the breakneck pace at which these folks worked—all of the requisite crystals were polished, and Cid was unfolding his plans.

Keimwyda could mostly follow along with what he was saying, although much of it still felt a bit esoteric to her. She admittedly had not been at this adventuring business all that long. Yet she still could not help but feel that perhaps the best way to protect the secrets of a dangerous tower with deadly automated security measures was to… let the automated security measures keep doing their thing, and leave well enough alone.

She had been adventuring long enough, however, to develop a healthy distrust of all things Allagan. It also seemed fairly safe to assume the Empire would be unwilling to leave well enough alone.

So she was content to heed the experts on this one. She didn’t need to fully grasp the particulars to trust that Cid and Rammbroes knew what they were talking about.

Cid was just concluding an impassioned speech about the “freedom through technology” the Ironworks sought to provide, when a voice rang out over the camp.

“A compelling viewpoint. It is unyielding wills such as yours that have defined the course of history.” 

Keimwyda’s hand reached back for her bow. She had heard this interlocutor before. All eyes looked up to the scaffolding above—there was no tree canopy to hide away in this time. And there, standing brazenly before all in plain sight, was a red-haired Miqo’te man, a satisfied grin on his face.

Rammbroes sighed heavily and called back to him, exasperation plain in his voice, “So, you return at last.”

Keimwyda’s head snapped towards him in surprise. He knew this man?

He continued, “What, pray tell, has kept you so wholly preoccupied that you could not spare a moment to inform me of your progress or preservation?”

The dots connected in Keimwyda’s mind. Oh. This was the associate he spoke of at their very first meeting.

Huh.

“Why, the task you assigned to me, of course,” the stranger replied. “Surely you have not forgotten about the aethersand? I tasked a passing adventurer with delivering it. A more capable courier I could not imagine.”

Now it was Rammbroes’ turn to shoot an alarmed glance at Keimwyda. “By Thaliak’s… what did he DO?” he asked her under his breath. She could do nothing but shrug sheepishly.

With a melodramatic swan dive, the Miqo’te launched off of the scaffolding, dropping into a three-point landing in front of them. 

“Greetings adventurer,” he said to her, raising a presumptuously friendly hand. “Did I not say we would meet again?”

For the first time, Keimwyda could get a proper look at him. Oh, she thought to herself, annoyed but now also amused. That explains it. He’s so young. She bit her lip to stop herself laughing at how dashing he clearly thought this whole charade was. Oh honey.

She would not be surprised if he were not that much older than Alphinaud.

She would be later surprised to discover he was. He would much later be much more surprised—and mortified—to discover she had thought so.