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The old brick fort that the Greil Mercenaries call home is a familiar sight to Jill. Nestled in the forests on the Crimea-Gallia border, it’s tucked away from the rest of the world by thick trees and sturdy stone walls, but that doesn’t stop her from spotting it from the air. Jill lands her wyvern just outside the front gates, sliding from the saddle with practiced ease and giving her mount a fond pat on his snout.
This isn’t the first time she’s stopped by the fort. After the Goddess’ death and the end of the war against Begnion, Ike had gone as far as to offer her a permanent place in his company. While she’d refused, choosing instead to continue with her delivery business, it hasn’t stopped her from using the fort as a convenient pitstop between Crimea and Gallia.
“Jill!” comes a familiar, excited cry. She turns around just in time to spot Mist as she comes through the front gate, her eyes wide and bright with glee. She throws her arms around Jill with gusto the moment she’s able to, squeezing her tight in greeting.
Jill laughs, taken a little off guard by the enthusiasm but happy nonetheless. She catches Mist around her waist to keep them both from toppling over. “Hi to you, too,” she teases, giving her old friend a gentle squeeze back. “It hasn’t been that long since I was last here, has it?”
Mist giggles, pulling away from Jill just enough to look up at her. “Long enough. I know the service to Gallia is still new, but you don’t come through here nearly enough,” she says, turning to pet the side of Jill’s wyvern’s neck in greeting. “Come on! We expanded the stables recently, so we have some extra space to board your friend here.”
Warmth blooms in Jill’s chest at the sight. She doesn’t know how Mist can always be so eager to see her every time she visits, but it never fails to make her feel welcome. She gathers her wyvern’s reins in hand. “Lead the way,” she replies with a smile, gesturing for Mist to join her as she passes through the front gate and into the fort’s main courtyard.
It looks just like she remembers, albeit with a few minor additions. The stables are larger, as Mist had mentioned, but there’s also a new building under construction a little ways outside the walls. Catching Jill’s curious look, Mist says, “It’s going to be a combination chapel and schoolhouse. It was Rhys’s idea.”
“A chapel?” Jill echoes.
Mist nods her head enthusiastically. “For the Goddess—the real one, that is. Empress Sanaki is working in Begnion to reform the church now that the Senate has been deposed and the truth is out, so Rhys decided to open a place out here that the nearby villages can use for services. Plus, it gives the local kids a place to learn. Queen Elincia’s always been big on education.”
Jill eyes the half-built meetinghouse with awe as she walks. “Everything’s been progressing so quickly,” she marvels. “Sienne is almost like a different city already, and it’s hardly been a year. It’s honestly kind of hard to keep up with.” Given how transient she is, Jill has seen every nation on Tellius giving their all to rebuild and rekindle their relationships with one another, yet it still never fails to catch her off guard just how quickly everyone has come together.
“I’ll show you everything once you’ve had some time to rest.” Mist pulls open the door to one of the stable stalls and holds it while Jill leads her wyvern inside and gets him settled. “You’re in luck, Oscar’s cooking tonight,” she says as she closes the door behind Jill. She steps close and loops her arm through Jill’s elbow, grinning. “Let’s go say hi to the others!”
This is how it always is with Mist. It’s easy to fall back into their old routine despite the months spent apart, slipping back into familiar patterns of banter as easily as breathing. It’s always nice, especially considering how difficult it is to send letters back and forth when Jill is seldom in the same place for long. She lets her shoulder bump affectionately against Mist’s as they walk. “It’s been too long since I’ve had his cooking. This will certainly be a treat.”
And she’s right, it is a treat. There’s something about going back to the Greil Mercenaries that never fails to make her feel welcome—not even Shinon’s withering stares and Soren’s cool indifference can overpower Ike, Rolf, and Rhys’s fond greetings. Even if she’s not truly a part of their company, it’s nice to know that she’s always welcome to stop by for a visit and borrow the spare bunk in the room that Mist, Mia, and Titania all share.
Mist sits next to her at dinner as she’s predictably bombarded by questions about her recent travels and the state of her and Haar’s delivery business. Isolated as the mercenaries are from any major cities, it’s clear that they’re curious to know how the other nations are recovering since the war had ended nearly a year ago, and Jill is happy to supply them with whatever they’d like to know. Eventually, though, Mist stands up and interrupts the conversation
“Alright, everyone, you’ve asked your questions! Give her a little space, would you?” she calls, grinning. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time to talk later, but don’t forget that there’s still work to be done before the sun goes down!”
There are a few noncommittal grumbles from around the table, but before they can turn into a full-on argument, Ike interjects, “She’s right, everyone. It’s not like she’s going to leave so soon. Right?” He casts a glance across the table at Jill, a knowing glint in his eye.
Jill manages a tentative smile. “I was hoping to stay a few days, actually. If that’s alright,” she confirms.
Ike nods. “There you have it. Back to work, everyone. You can interrogate Jill on your own time.”
There’s a soft chorus of “Yes, Commander,” as each of the members of the Greil Mercenaries clear their plates and disperse to various corners of the fort to finish their work for the day.
Jill follows their lead, glancing over her shoulder to Mist as she does. “Anything I can do to help?” she asks, setting her dishes in the sink for Rolf to wash as part of his duties for the night. “I might as well chip in, seeing as I’m going to be taking up a bed.”
Flashing her a small smile, Mist replies, “I’m sure the help would be welcome, but first, would you come with me? There’s something I want to show you.” She keeps her voice low, like she’s telling a secret, and reaches out to slip her hand into Jill’s so she can tug her away from the kitchen.
“Something outside?” Jill lets herself be led by the hand as Mist pulls her out the front door and down a stone path that leads around to the back of the fort. There’s not much to be seen, hidden away as it is from the rest of the fort’s facilities, but there is a modest garden growing beside the stone rear wall filled with various plants.
Mist skirts the edge of the garden, leading Jill instead to a little plot of land that’s been sectioned off from the rest of the fort. Within its borders are a handful of what appear to be stone markers—three of them, to be exact—each one engraved with a unique design. On one of them, she recognizes the Greil Mercenaries’ crest, a design that bleeds over into its neighbor’s surface and links the two little monuments together.
Mist kneels down on the grass in front of the markers, then pats the ground beside her to encourage Jill to do the same. Jill follows her lead, sitting down and tucking her legs to the side so she can peer down at the monuments over Mist’s shoulder. “For your parents?” she guesses.
With a melancholic smile, Mist nods. “I asked Daniel to teach me a little stoneworking so I could put these together,” she explains. “He’s a blacksmith, not a sculptor, and I didn’t really know what I was doing, but… I wanted to give them someplace to rest. Mother was probably buried somewhere in Gallia, and the best we could do for Father was a shallow grave in the forest outside Gebal Castle. We weren’t there long enough to give him a proper burial.” With a soft sigh, Mist closes her eyes and bows her head, pressing the palms of her hands together in a silent prayer. “I don’t know whether or not they’ll make their way back here again, but at the very least, it makes it feel like a part of them is still with us, you know?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Jill takes a moment to admire the stone gravemarkers; they’re rough and uneven, clearly carved with amateur hands, and yet they still manage to be charming. It’s clear to Jill that Mist had put a lot of time and love into making them as best as she could. “They must be proud of you, wherever they are.”
Mist smiles, leaning to the side until she can press her shoulder to Jill’s. “You think so?” she murmurs.
“I do.” Jill lets her eyes wander from the matching markers to the third one, set up not too far from the ones meant for Greil and Elena. “Who’s the third one for?” she asks. Unlike the other two, this one isn’t decorated with any symbols or even a name. It’s a blank canvas, yet set up intentionally enough that Jill knows it must be dedicated to someone.
To Jill’s surprise, Mist looks away in obvious embarrassment, her cheeks flushing pink. “Well, um… it’s actually for your father,” she admits, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. “Maybe it’s silly to say, but I’ve always thought General Shiharam was a lot like my parents. They didn’t really belong to any one country, either. I just thought that, since he wasn’t ever given a proper burial, he could belong here, too.”
All of a sudden, Jill can’t seem to find her words. Mist glances meekly up at her to gauge her reaction, but Jill is frozen, utterly speechless. “Oh,” she finally manages to say, her throat suspiciously tight.
She’s not sure what she’s more shocked to hear; that Mist had remembered Shiharam in the first place, or that she’d cared enough for a former enemy to dedicate a monument to him alongside her own parents. In the eyes of most, her father had died in disgrace, a Begnion deserter doomed to be used as a pawn in the Mad King’s schemes for Daein. Mist had been among the few to know differently, and among even fewer who had understood why he chose the path he did. Realizing this now, Jill can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed.
“I wasn’t sure what I should put on it, so it’s still blank for now. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted you to be the one to choose, so I figured I would ask your opinion the next time you—oh!” Mist cuts herself off partway through her sentence, her eyes wide with concern. “Please don’t cry, Jill! I’m sorry to bring up bad memories.”
Hastily, Jill wipes away the tears that threaten to fall with the edge of her sleeve. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” she quickly says, shaking her head. “You just surprised me, that’s all. I think my father would be proud to be remembered like this.” She manages a watery smile to reassure Mist, then turns to look back at the unmarked monument with pride. “Of course I’ll help you think of something to put on it. We can finish it together.” Leaning close, she takes Mist’s hand in her own, threading their fingers together and giving it a gentle squeeze.
Mist relaxes, a fond smile blooming on her face. She ducks her head so she can rest it against Jill’s shoulder. “Yeah. Together,” she echoes. It feels like a promise.
Above their heads, the setting sun paints the sky in hues of pink and gold, heralding the end of another day. Jill closes her eyes for a moment, her cheek pressed to the top of Mist’s head, and lets the peace of the moment envelop her in its comforting hold.
Father, she silently prays, it’s taken a while, but I think I’ve finally found my place.