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When the ghosts are found
They were on.
An expedition to Pulse had been a long shot, a secondary concern ranking somewhere behind observing Khamja's movements, courting allies, and monitoring enemies. Ignis was a diplomat, and he'd been sent to do a diplomat's job, albeit unconventionally. Lucis occupied a delicate position and could, not to put too fine a point on it, use every bit of help it could get.
Pulse was something Ignis believed could help. As did most of the council, but the problem with Pulse was that it would take a lot of resources and a lot of bodies, and something Lucis couldn't spare was bodies. The rewards could be worth it, of course. Pulse was the Lucian homeland, the country's origins lay on the long abandoned continent and what little they did know suggested a huge backslide in technology. The royal archives spoke of the Old Wall, of statues with minds, and machinery they had only recently reinvented.
Lumi's airship had sealed it. Pulsian in origin, dating back to the brief period when trade between the continents had taken place, and technology had been shared between them. It was a marvel. It was at once ancient, and more advanced than anything currently being designed.
Ignis and Gladio had made friends, allies, and acquaintances among the various ranks of Khamja. They'd been surprised to learn that so many of them were such powerful warriors. It was perfect. If they consented to come, if their respective masters allowed them to come, they had all the strength they needed to explore Pulse.
Aizen had been released from D District while Ignis had been recovering from his encounter with Phoenix. The Aeon was ever-present in his mind, the sensation akin to that of being watched from some distant corner. It was strangely comforting.
Aizen's release had seemed the opportune time to contact the Lucian council. The reply had come a few days later. Ignis and Gladio's shadowy sponsor served as their point of contact, and the permission had come through to start formally recruiting people. The party they assembled would have to be of sufficient strength and size to convince the council that it was worth dedicating the necessary resources to them, and the venture, but Ignis had no concerns that after meeting the Arrancar there would be any question remaining.
Of course some of the Arrancar had been very much in favour. And some of them had suggested others from outside Khamja.
"You should ask Ila," Tayuya had said. "Their white mage is as good as Nel, and if you're asking this gang of idiots along the healers are gonna need all the help they can get."
Ila, it turned out, were a clan that Kadaj and Grimmjow and the rest had dealt with multiple times before. The Selkie berserker had fought Grimmjow numerous times but they'd since called a truce. Kadaj had vouched for one named Lea as being a bit of a dork but a decent guy.
They could usually be found in Rabanastre, unless they were off on a hunt. The white mage, Aerith, sold flowers in the square. She'd been easy enough to find as their first contact, although she'd insisted on selling Ignis and Gladio a flower first. From there they'd been directed to the Sandsea, which was how Ignis found himself on the mezzanine level, looking down at the rest of a bar that looked every inch as if it was trying not to be a dive and not doing a very good job of it. It was rustic, perhaps even quaint, but it was very much the sort of place that felt like somewhere shady dealings happened.
Ila consisted of four people; a blue haired, yellow eyed man with pointed ears and his hair scraped back in a ponytail; a very red haired man with a very spiky hairstyle; Aerith, the canny businesswoman; and a dark haired, very pretty woman that carried herself as if she could gut anyone that dared say she was pretty.
The one with blue hair was the last to sit down, placing a round of drinks on the table as he did so.
"Thank you," Ignis said. His purchased flower lay on the table, looking thoroughly out of place. "Has Aerith elaborated on why we wanted to meet with you?"
An expedition to Pulse had been a long shot, a secondary concern ranking somewhere behind observing Khamja's movements, courting allies, and monitoring enemies. Ignis was a diplomat, and he'd been sent to do a diplomat's job, albeit unconventionally. Lucis occupied a delicate position and could, not to put too fine a point on it, use every bit of help it could get.
Pulse was something Ignis believed could help. As did most of the council, but the problem with Pulse was that it would take a lot of resources and a lot of bodies, and something Lucis couldn't spare was bodies. The rewards could be worth it, of course. Pulse was the Lucian homeland, the country's origins lay on the long abandoned continent and what little they did know suggested a huge backslide in technology. The royal archives spoke of the Old Wall, of statues with minds, and machinery they had only recently reinvented.
Lumi's airship had sealed it. Pulsian in origin, dating back to the brief period when trade between the continents had taken place, and technology had been shared between them. It was a marvel. It was at once ancient, and more advanced than anything currently being designed.
Ignis and Gladio had made friends, allies, and acquaintances among the various ranks of Khamja. They'd been surprised to learn that so many of them were such powerful warriors. It was perfect. If they consented to come, if their respective masters allowed them to come, they had all the strength they needed to explore Pulse.
Aizen had been released from D District while Ignis had been recovering from his encounter with Phoenix. The Aeon was ever-present in his mind, the sensation akin to that of being watched from some distant corner. It was strangely comforting.
Aizen's release had seemed the opportune time to contact the Lucian council. The reply had come a few days later. Ignis and Gladio's shadowy sponsor served as their point of contact, and the permission had come through to start formally recruiting people. The party they assembled would have to be of sufficient strength and size to convince the council that it was worth dedicating the necessary resources to them, and the venture, but Ignis had no concerns that after meeting the Arrancar there would be any question remaining.
Of course some of the Arrancar had been very much in favour. And some of them had suggested others from outside Khamja.
"You should ask Ila," Tayuya had said. "Their white mage is as good as Nel, and if you're asking this gang of idiots along the healers are gonna need all the help they can get."
Ila, it turned out, were a clan that Kadaj and Grimmjow and the rest had dealt with multiple times before. The Selkie berserker had fought Grimmjow numerous times but they'd since called a truce. Kadaj had vouched for one named Lea as being a bit of a dork but a decent guy.
They could usually be found in Rabanastre, unless they were off on a hunt. The white mage, Aerith, sold flowers in the square. She'd been easy enough to find as their first contact, although she'd insisted on selling Ignis and Gladio a flower first. From there they'd been directed to the Sandsea, which was how Ignis found himself on the mezzanine level, looking down at the rest of a bar that looked every inch as if it was trying not to be a dive and not doing a very good job of it. It was rustic, perhaps even quaint, but it was very much the sort of place that felt like somewhere shady dealings happened.
Ila consisted of four people; a blue haired, yellow eyed man with pointed ears and his hair scraped back in a ponytail; a very red haired man with a very spiky hairstyle; Aerith, the canny businesswoman; and a dark haired, very pretty woman that carried herself as if she could gut anyone that dared say she was pretty.
The one with blue hair was the last to sit down, placing a round of drinks on the table as he did so.
"Thank you," Ignis said. His purchased flower lay on the table, looking thoroughly out of place. "Has Aerith elaborated on why we wanted to meet with you?"