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Gridanians didn't live near an ocean. They couldn't always burn bodies for fear of causing a fire. Not every creature ate them, and dumping sites for undesirables and cemeteries for loved ones could only be sanctioned by the Elementals. For the most part, as Gridania had a smaller population compared to La Noscea and Ul'Dah, this was acceptable.
However.
Nyrith Samandri, it could be argued, was an outlier amongst Gridanians, as she had lived with the Sylphs for much of her life, until she was tempted to learn conjury. Their method was much more simple:
Mushrooms.
Thancred blinked at the absurd number of fungi around Nyrith's house. Did they....glow?
When she had an apartment in the Lavender Beds, the Scions had all spent the night there for one reason or another -- either they got in to Gridania too late and establishments were closed, or they wanted a safer, better-warded space to ensure there would be no eavesdroppers. Nyrith had all sorts of plant life cultivating in little pots and trellises everywhere back then. It had been some time since they had been to Gridania -- before the Final Days, in fact, and their cursed journey to the end of the universe -- and he knew she wasn't growing anything quite that large or anything that looked remotely like this in her quarters; he would have remembered.
G'raha, beside him, also gaped in astonishment. Estinien looked up higher and saw where their friend was waving happily from the roof (of a tree? that was a house? that was still disconcerting) and cursed.
"I don't know how she got up there, but the last I heard she's still healing, and I'm going to kill her." With that nonsensical statement, the dragoon leapt effortlessly to the top of the house, crossing his arms as he landed. Thancred and G'raha smirked at each other, not wanting to laugh.
(Nope. Nothing to see here. Absolutely nothing at all.)
All three of them had come at Nyrith's invitation to visit during her recovery. The others had been invited, but since the Scions were not yet disbanded it wasn't deemed feasible to come all at once. Thus, everyone took turns over the long months that Nyrith was convalescing with the Conjurer's Guild and her fellow white mages.
Raya, with Nyrith's permission, disclosed just how close to permanent, crippling injury she was. How lucky they were she had mastered healing arts both old and new and everything in between, because otherwise she'd be dead. How long her recovery would take. Not to mention the rest of them having (actually?) died.
(None of them talk about it. They probably should.)
Needless to say, they are all quite eager for a long rest.
"THANCRED! G'RAHA! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? I HAVE A HOUSE!" Nyrith screamed, startling the pigeons from some nearby trees. She leaned further over and they both could practically see the steam coming out of Estinien's ears as he caught the back of her shirt, "GRIDANIA GAVE ME A HOUSE! ARE YOU JOKING!"
Nobody was joking.
Gridania, with the collective, expectant stares of every remaining white mage alive and the entire Conjurer's Guild looking on, decided the absolute least they could do for their favorite wayward daughter was to gift her a plot of land, knowing the insanely cutthroat nature of the adventurers' housing market. The Sylphs themselves, in coordination with Nyrith and Carpentry Guildmaster Beatin to make sure it was comfortable for walking ones, actually grew the house, hence part of it being a tree. And still alive.
Nyrith swore she could hear it speaking to her about the neighbors, sometimes, when meditating.
Thancred believed her, but also was happy enough with a non-talking domicile, thanks. Y'shtola, when he told her, only laughed at him. So did Urianger.
G'raha's ears pinned back as he called out, "My friend, please be careful, and do not fall!"
"IT'S FINE, YOU CAN BOUNCE OFF THE MUSHROOMS!"
Thancred's eyes widened as she suddenly shook off Estinien's hand from her shirt. She took a running leap and shrieked as she jumped off the top, where her trajectory landed her on one particularly tall cap. It made the oddest boinging sound that Thancred had ever heard, and tossed her gently back up in the air, to which she aimed for the next mushroom top and bounced again to the final and shortest one, rebounding and landing with a somersault on the ground. She turned and patted the shrooms affectionately before making her way toward them.
"Well," Raya-O-Senna, who with her brother A-Ruhn had accompanied Thancred and the other Scions, said dryly, "I guess that answers my question as to how Nyrith's wellness visit is going to go today."
"It has been several months. I'm not surprised at the pace of her healing," A-Ruhn replied, bringing out his staff, "But that," (gentle) whack to Nyrith's head, "Was," whack, "Stupid." Whack.
A-Ruhn moved his staff slowly enough that Nyrith could dodge and she took every opportunity, laughing as she did so, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I think this strain is a little more euphoria-inducing than I'm used to."
He sighed.
"Why did we let you do this."
Nyrith giggled, but at seeing G'raha's and Thancred's wide-eyed stares got the hint to try to contain herself, "Because you can't stop me?"
The Padjal rubbed his the bridge of his nose as Raya began to cast, "There is that."
Their friend shrugged as she turned to finally embrace Thancred and G'raha, one arm around each waist, and they reciprocated carefully, "The Sylphs are much more sensible about these things, you know this --"
"Right, right, we've argued about this before. Not everyone can grow mushrooms in their yard out of the bodies of their enemies, Nyrith, the Conjurer's guild is thin enough spread as it is. We'd be overrun by funguar and gods know what else in less than a week."
The two of them looked on somewhat incredulously as Nyrith pouted and then winked, "Do you see what the two of them do? They spoil my fun."
(They couldn't remember the last time they've seen her quite this happy, let alone they heard her laugh. Estinien, who had jumped back down, looked poleaxed.
Neither of them will say anything about it, but Estinien is -- well. There's times to poke and times to keep well enough away, and this was the latter.)
"Sometimes, mo geug, your idea of fun and the Sylphs' idea of fun align much too closely together," Raya said distantly as she pulled Nyrith gently from their embrace and turned her around, "How are you feeling?"
At this Nyrith finally stopped giggling and concentrated, looking inward. Considered.
She answered as they made the way to the front gate, "I'm...better. I think. Not totally. But I'm not suddenly dropping off when talking anymore. And I can cast at the same level as before."
(Before Ultima Thule. Before the end. Before they died. Before it all.)
"The pain?" Nyrith grimaced a little at A-Ruhn's question as she led them around even more mushrooms to the back to sit on the patio overlooking the cliffs. Estinien eyed the nearby trees with interest before hopping up to stand on a nearby boulder that made up part of her back fence.
"The mushrooms help. But it's taking time finding the right dosages. And the right strains. Today I don't have a migraine but my joints are --"
The conversation soon devolved into medical babble and Thancred went to join his fellow Scion, G'raha staying to participate in the discussion.
They stood for a few minutes, and once it was clear their words weren't going to stop anytime soon Estinien leaned his head towards Thancred.
"'The bodies of their enemies'?" he said lowly.
Thancred grimaces, "I have been informed," he replied back at the same volume, "That the Sylphs use the bodies of trespassers or threats to grow mushrooms and other plants with various magickal properties. It seems they've convinced Nyrith of the utility of the practice."
"Truly," the dragoon doesn't sound disgusted -- at least, not yet, so Thancred elaborated.
"Obviously, she can't bury every body in her yard, that's impractical, but ones that have interesting aether or other significance I'm told she's had brought here. She's distilled various little concoctions and has the Conjurer's Guild vet them for her to be sold. The ones that do well, she goes out and hunts more of the thing, whatever it is, and creates a steady supply in her conservatory in the house. It's a tidy business, all told."
"Hmm."
"None of the thinking races are buried here, as far as I know, and personally I don't believe her or the Conjurers' code of ethics would allow it. But she does hunt in large groups sometimes, and comes back with all sorts of interesting tidbits not just for medicine." Thancred pats his chest pointedly with a raised eyebrow.
Estinien looked thoughtful.
As well he should. It was damn good armor Thancred was wearing, and the gunbreaker was certain Nyrith could come up with something the dragoon could use.
"You should go with them, sometime, and see what you think. Many marks take several dozen hunters to bring down. I'm sure Nyrith would love to create something for you."
Thancred was careful to keep his voice devoid of any inflection, and Estinien only nodded. They both looked back towards the Warrior of Light, who was leaning against the bench and gesiculating wildly, to G'raha's and the Sennas' amusement.
(No evidence of her ordeal. No trace remaining of that deathly pallor when she was on the Ragnarok, with Urianger and Alphinaud and G'raha and even Y'shtola using everything they had to pull her back from the brink. It was close. Too close.)
"We did her a disservice, in Ultima Thule," Estinien muttered.
"We did, but we were lucky, and so was she," Thancred agreed, "However, it was all our choice, and the only path forward, from what she has been able to tell us. Don't take that away from her with your regret."
The Elezen huffed and looked back towards the water.
Thancred decided to risk saying something more.
"If there's one thing Nyrith hates, it's vulnerability."
Estinien shot him a sharp glance, and the Hyur rubbed his head sheepishly, "I know you were there for Haurchefant. And off and on since. But Nyrith has been alone and self-sufficient since she first met Lyse and Papalymo, when she first joined the Conjurers' Guild," he paused.
Sometimes his skill with people really came in handy. Hopefully Estinien wouldn't skewer him for it or leap off the ledge.
"The Sylphs have an interesting view of the world, especially when it comes to attachments. So when she chooses her 'people', she does not let them go. Well, you saw that for yourself, during the Dragonsong War."
The dragoon regarded Thancred with uncharacteristic patience. The gunbreaker wished for Alphinaud's diplomacy, but realized in the next moment that Estinien would probably drop him over the ledge instead if he didn't hurry up and decided to just get to the point.
"You need to be careful with her, and with yourself. Because she tries. But Nyrith's always been braver when it comes to helping other people rather than her pursuing own desires. So if there's a chance she could actually get -- if someone thinks she's worth it --"
Estinien gripped his shoulder as he was about to continue. A moment later and he felt why, as a finger tapped his back.
"Are you coming?" Nyrith asked cheerfully, waving ahead to the rest of the group who had already started to make their way inside via the back door, "I can show you how I get to the top of the house," she eyeballed Estinien, who only smirked, "safely, and without jumping. Unlike a certain someone. Who hasn't seen everything and decided to just hop up like a crazy person."
Thancred nobly refrained from instigating a debate about jumping up versus jumping down. It wasn't worth it on any level whatsoever, since the two of them were dragoons, and were aerial far too often for his liking anyway.
"I was not the one who jumped off the house, you ridiculous woman," Nyrith rolls her eyes and Thancred gently pushed her towards the others.
"We'll be right there."
She narrowed her eyes feaux-suspiciously at them both for a few seconds, but when neither cracked huffed dramatically and leapt down, throwing back over her shoulder, "I'll get it out of you someday. Just you watch."
The door closed behind her and Thancred turned back to Estinien.
"She might run. Because she won't know what to do. Will you?"
Estinien looked at the door pensively, then down at Thancred. It's another moment before he replies.
"We should head inside."
Guess that was that, then.
Thancred sighed.
"I'll let them know you'll be along shortly. But don't forget that we're here for you, too," the gunbreaker clapped a hand on his shoulder and moved towards the door.
Estinien waited a moment, wanting to gather himself before following, when a memory surfaces.
He overheard her once, when he went looking for her after everyone began their first forays into the world after Ultima Thule. It was right before she had departed to Gridania to recuperate with her conjurer breathren, but he finally found her at Haurchefant's grave. She wasn't answering her linkpearl and Tataru was concerned.
The dragoon shut his eyes briefly, pained, as he recalled what he accidentally overheard while she was talking to his memorial.
That she thought she was too much work.
That Haurchefant was a saint for putting up with the heroism and the Warrior of Light.
That nobody sees her as anything else.
What else could she offer?
(Estinien couldn't bear to hear more and made himself known. They never talked about it.
Maybe they should.
Maybe she's ready.
He hopes.)
The dragoon hopped down from where he stood and made his way to Nyrith's house.
Nyrith was -- no. Is always worth the effort. And anyone who didn't think so? Didn't deserve her. Estinien's lips quirked a little as he went inside.
Sod her thoughts of 'too much work'. He would never let her go.
He couldn't wait to prove it to her.