"You mean this?" He picked up the crumbling metal spoke he'd made due with to break the Zu's wing. "Just a piece of the ruins that came in handy... I think Yevon would forgive the use of inactive Machina, just this once. I doubt anyone, even the divine, would frown on saving life." He shouldered his spear, slinging it point-first into the strap across his back, and made the sweeping motion of praise to her. "On that note, thank you for thinking ahead farther than I did. I'm grateful you managed to bring my weapon with you as far as you did. I know it's... ungainly, at best."<br/><br/>He glanced at the moogle with some amusement as he straightened. What a curious little creature it was. He did a double take, though, when he realized it didn't look...<i>alive.</i>Its eyes were... buttons? He shook it off. They had more important things to be dealing with right then and there. "If it's any consolation, you aren't slow. I'm fast. I used to ride chocobos on the Highroad, and you have to be quick to keep up with them when one decides to play around. But enough--let's hurry. If Sin left one of its spawn behind then the village is in even more danger than I thought."<br/><br/>As he turned away they heard the flap of sandals, and Chiron came charging up the path, sweating profusely, one hand tightly wrapped around his sword's grip. He slid to a halt when he saw Amal. "Friend mage! Where is E'tan!?" He looked over at Ethan. "E'tan, my friend! Good, I am not slow yet! I have come to help. Harris, she tell me, go! Go, I am well! And I know, my friends, I know to listen to that tone. She was speaking to the bl--the b... the men in the water when I left, yes?" He drew his sword, the golden blade gleaming brightly as it caught the sunlight. "And now together we slay many friends!"<br/><br/>"Fiends, Chiron."<br/><br/>"Yes, E'tan, fiends!" He put the sword away and glanced at Amal, grinning wide. In Bevelle the two had met over mutual interest in what the other did. He had been drawn to her magic, and his sword was beautiful enough that even a casual glance garnered interest. He had expressed a concept to her not long before, a marriage of the martial and magical. A technique that, in his land, was called<i>spathías</i>, but he had worked out a more Spiran name for it; Spellblade. "Now is the time to test, yes, Amal? Let us show the fiends the might of Atilla as the gods meant it to be!"