Smiling for how easily Chiron had managed to conjure flame from the invisible with minimal effort at all, Amal allowed herself to feel hopeful someday daggers in her hands might look as natural as the warrior casting spells. Undoubtedly she could prove to be just as fast a learner as Chiron.  Lowering her chin to agree, she hurried along beside her friend and tried to convince herself his pace would have been the same she’d have selected for herself is she was walking alone.<br/><br/>The further they walked, the more confident Amal felt about telling Ethan she would become his Guardian.  Until she learned what she needed to know from Chiron, she still had her magic, and that skill, at least, would be useful to the new Summoner.<br/><br/>When, eventually, Chiron desired to speak again, his words stung at Amal’s pride and her immediate reaction was to go on the defensive.  Combat Harris?  Amal had never once done any such thing!  Harris was always the one at fault, the one to blame; she found every reason and any to antagonize the mage.  Chiron didn’t have his facts straight.  But as much as she wanted to be irritated, Amal reminded herself this was Chiron, her friend.  He had no reason to lie to her, and she was grateful, always, he’d be the first to tell her the truth about something.  So maybe he was right, and she needed to dig a little deeper where Harris was concerned, but what was it she had failed to see?<br/><br/>Forgetting she’d never voiced any of her thoughts and Chiron wasn’t gifted with the divine ability to read her mind, she hadn’t considered her words might be a few steps ahead of his understanding as she murmured, “Perhaps you’re right.  I should try a little harder to get to know her.”<br/><br/>If Chiron had heard her, she wouldn’t know.  Catching sight of Ethan, meditating right where he said he would be, brought a smile to the mage’s face.  She hurried her pace to keep up with Chiron but stopped walking when she noticed the priest’s scowl.  His tone was harsh, and despite her best attempt to remain unmoved by his declaration she closed her eyes and looked at the sandy dirt beneath her boots.  As it was with her brother, Amal had discovered she didn’t like to be a source of disappointment or irritation for Ethan; since she respected him, it was impossible for her to perceive his anger might have stemmed from a different source.<br/><br/>So she allowed herself to believe whatever she had done, likely sneaking away with Chiron to train, had irritated him.  Perhaps it would be better to wait until he was in a better state of mood to tell him she would become his Guardian?<br/><br/>Studying Chiron for a moment to gauge what he seemed to feel about whether or not she should follow them, she shook her head and cast a glance over her shoulder towards the village.  With Agustin, when she’d make him angry, what he always needed was time.  Then an apology.  Worrying her lower lip, she took a deep breath, “I’ll stay here.”<br/><br/>She wanted to go.<br/><br/>To stave the guilt she felt for lying, she offered Chiron a short wave and quickly turned away from both men to run back towards the village.  It was okay, her decision.  She wasn’t a Guardian, not yet… if Ethan was not so mad he’d reject her offer, which was probably the worst humiliation she could imagine herself facing.  Probably worse even than returning to Bevelle and her brother’s lecture.<br/><br/>Besides, she needed to find Harris and apologize for misleading her.  If Chiron was right, and Amal knew deep in her heart he was, all of the ire and dislike the mage perceived from the Blitzer was a giant misunderstanding.  Her subconscious knew, even if her ego was too proud to admit it, she was never going to feel like she belonged with this group until Harris accepted her.  Or at least understood her.  She was doing Ethan a favor, then, by staying behind to make friends with the only one of his Guardians she didn’t get along with.<br/><br/>But where to find her?<br/><br/>“Excuse me?”<br/><br/>“Good day to ya, lass,” the man she had stopped replied, smiling warmly down at her.<br/><br/>“If I may,” she paused, returning his smile.  “Is there, by chance, a tavern nearby?”<br/><br/>“What’s respectable thing like you doin’ looking for a place like that?”<br/><br/>“I’m looking for someone,” she confessed.  Amal knew it was her best chance of finding Harris.  She had either already been for a drink, was still drinking, or would eventually end up there.<br/><br/>Nodding like he accepted her reasoning, he replied, “Only one such place in the village.  Across this bridge and the fifth building on the left.”<br/><br/>“Thank you,” she smiled before heading in the direction he had indicated.<br/><br/>Thinking only briefly of how much she wished for Harris to be where she expected her, the mage pressed through the coarse straw doorway and into the dimly lit tavern.  Harris was sitting alone at the bar; it would have been impossible to miss her, what with the way her blonde ponytail cascaded down her back and how her tanned legs seemed to stretch on for miles.<br/><br/>There was one small table where two men were seated off to Amal’s left, but the remainder of the establishment was empty.  Well, except for the barkeep, who brightened when she noticed Amal enter.  She said, “Welcome, love.  What’ll ya have.”<br/><br/>Harris turned over her shoulder to see who had entered, but only smirked and asked, “The priest sent you to find me?”<br/><br/>Amal frowned for the way she’d emphasized the word ‘you’ with a hint of distaste evident in her tone.  Sliding onto the stool beside Harris, the mage replied, “No.”<br/><br/>“Came looking for me on your own, then?” Harris asked, eyeing the mage’s Moogle like she didn’t want it to get too close.<br/><br/>“No.”<br/><br/>“Then what are doing here?”<br/><br/>“I’ll have what she’s having,” Amal said to the barkeep and motioned with her left hand towards the wooden mug in front of Harris.  The Moogle landed on the bar in between the mage and the Blitzer, facing the barkeep.<br/><br/>“That’s more like it,” the other woman seemed to brighten up.  “I was starting to think you were no fun at all.”<br/><br/>“I’m not in the mood to be teased.”<br/><br/>“Then you’re sitting beside the wrong person.”<br/><br/>“You took the middle stool,” Amal pointed out dryly.<br/><br/>“So I did,” Harris raised an eyebrow.  After a few moments, the Blitzer asked, “What are you really doing here?”<br/><br/>Without hesitation or concern for the consequences, Amal ran a hand through her bangs and replied honestly, “Ethan and Chiron have gone to the temple to pray.”<br/><br/>“Left you behind, huh?”<br/><br/>Amal glared at Harris.<br/><br/>“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Harris scolded.  “If you wanted to go, you should have gone.”<br/><br/>The mage sighed.  Harris wasn’t wrong.<br/><br/>“If you ask me-“<br/><br/>“I didn’t,” Amal shook her head.  Then she muttered, “Yevon knows I didn’t.”<br/><br/>“That priest is far too excited to be running towards his death,” Harris complained.  “He’s got a week or two head start on anyone who might start up a pilgrimage.  Yevon knows it’s going to be two weeks before the news even reaches Bevelle.  If we do our job and keep him safe, he’ll have no problem being the first to the final Aeon.”<br/><br/>Amal blinked as the mug was placed before her, muttering a quiet ‘thanks’ before pulling it forward towards herself without actually picking it up.  She ran her fingertips over the smooth handle before she turned to look at Harris and reply, “I’m not his Guardian.”<br/><br/>Harris ignored her comment to continue, “Ethan needs us more than he knows; to make sure he has a little fun before he goes if nothing else.”<br/><br/>The mage repeated, “I’m not his Guardian.”<br/><br/>“Yet.”<br/><br/>Harris tapped the edge of her mug against Amal’s, offering her a knowing smile.<br/><br/>Sensing they’d reached some sort of truce, though not bothering to determine how, Amal returned the smile and agreed, “Yet.”