This is—it's not wrong, not entirely. There aren't visions, at least not the kind she's grown used to. It's just blackness—pure blackness, cold like the dead of night and without any of the comfort that comes with sleep. She's not sure who she is, where she is, what she's supposed to doing. She knows, somehow, that she exists in a world elsewhere and this isn't it. She knows she's not in the right place or feeling the right things. But every thought, every reaction, feels like trying to move through thick mud, sticking to her and dragging her down.

Sheba. There's another voice inside her head, and it doesn't sound familiar. There's a transcendent sort of aura to it, the echoes it produces in her mind fade into imperfect whispers that sound like another language entirely. It's old, she can feel it, but when she tries to judge how old it is, or where it is, her mind reels back as if burned. So, probably not a great idea to get too deep into that. The fact that it had addressed her by name is concerning, but not technically abnormal, yet. It could just be a figment of her imagination for all she knows.

I don't want you, voice, she thinks at it. You or the visions. I've had enough.

Enough? The voice sounds confused by her irritation, and that spurs her on further.

You heard me. I don't want to do this anymore.

Sheba. Your powers are a gift.

Says who? I've been hearing that all my life, mostly from people who don't know what they're talking about.

We are Anemos.

What, all of it?

We. Are. Anemos. The voice follows the statement with a barrage of images, some that she's seen before and others that she hasn't. Jupiter Lighthouse halfway built. The ruins in Contigo, but looking less like ruins and more like an actual livable place. Men and women she doesn't recognize. The stars.

Okay, you've answered one question and given me a whole bunch more.

You know the answers.

I'm literally telling you I don't. All this passing out, visions, voices-in-my-head stuff has given me more questions than I've ever had. And you're freaking out my friends on top of that.

You are an echo of what we left behind. You stand as a beacon.

Okay, sure. At least you've got consistent imagery with the lighthouses.

There's a moment of very pointed silence. You mock we who incepted you.

Don't go! I'm sorry. Confirmation, finally! The voice, the Anemos, believed it created her. Sorry—I'm not mocking, I'm just running out of patience because it's been fifteen years of this with no answers. I'm glad you're here. You keep saying "we", so does that make you a representative of my ancestors?

We are Anemos.Another barrage of images, faster than before. People of all ages and sizes gathered together in a town square, watching a woman in elegant robes speak at a podium. A man building weapons, turning away from his anvil to look at someone else. A pregnant woman with her hands pressed to her forehead. Did the Anemos mean to tell her that she was speaking to all of them at once?

Okay, so not a representative, then. How did you all choose me as the echo? It seems like it would be hard to make a compromise.

There was no need. It was Fate.

She thinks about the pregnant woman again, tries to hone in on that image in her mind. Was that her mother? If she'd been the only pregnant woman at the time, that would have made Sheba the only choice. But when had Anemos lifted off? The timing wouldn't work out, surely Anemos had lifted off hundreds or thousands of years ago, not fifteen.

Why leave anyone behind at all?

Another silence, but not quite so pointed this time. She thinks that maybe she can feel a twinge of bitterness, but not directed at her—maybe they directed it at themselves. It was right. We could not survive this way, but could not bear to forget our humanity.

Couldn't survive, in what way? You stopped being human?

We understood ourselves beyond speech. We thought ourselves better. It was...a mistake.

Understood beyond speech... she echoes, racking her brain. Could they be referring to mind-reading? Perhaps somehow they had all become part of each others' minds, and couldn't disconnect. The idea of it, being connected to an entire city's worth of people, is horrifying. They'd have no secrets from each other, no arguments, no questions. They could plan ahead for any eventuality that any of them considered, with enough time.

How long have things been this way?

Time has no meaning. We have no use for it here.

So you mean... She paused, struggling to phrase her thought in a way that was simple enough to ensure she would get a simple answer. She could feel things heading back into confusing territory, and the more time she spent asking clarifying questions, that was more time wasted. So you sent me back...to your past? And you're sending me visions of my future?

It is the same, for us. We chose a moment where you were needed.

Lalivero...needed me? Faran needed me?

The world needed you.

The entirety of Weyard?! Somehow that's worse, in her mind. She could have maybe handled being an answer to Faran and Aisha's prayers for a child, but the idea of being some sort of savior was a bit too heavy to handle.

You represent the power of Anemos in restoring life to the world.

By lighting the lighthouses with Felix and the others? Is that helping?

We have no desires beyond what you have already done for us.

But I haven't done anything!

We will not abandon you. Continue to live.

Thank you, but—

You are needed.

A single high note lowers in pitch and fades away. A dissonant chord of voices fades in and out of her understanding

"…We have to…"

Sheba has a massive headache, pounding at the front of her skull. She feels distinctly like she'd been somewhere, seen someone, but can't remember where or who.

"You heard what..."

Had there been multiple people, or just one? It's all jumbled together.

"…Look, she's not…"

Are these the same voices as before? Something about them is familiar, but she can't put her finger on why.

"Let me try again."

Sheba? Suddenly it's not her own voice. It's not like before, either. For some reason, she initially associates the voice with Ivan, but then realizes it's not him.

Who are you? she asks.

There's a whirl of emotions in response to her question, again feeling sort of like Ivan, but mixed with—something else. It feels like green. Not green like jealousy, but green like wilderness. Like stepping outside into the first warm day in spring. Something's wrong, I can't—

Focus, Felix, you're making it worse. That felt like Ivan for sure. Were there—two people? Three, including her? How could she be sure?

Felix? Why does it feel like she should know that name?

Can you open your eyes, Sheba? Are you in pain?

I don't know. She's not entirely sure she has a body. She just exists.

Where are you right now? There's Ivan again. Why can she identify him so clearly, but everything else is fuzzy and indistinct?

It's dark. There are…trees, maybe? Or water. I don't know. I felt trees before, but I think I can hear water.

Felix, you need to help out or let go. Pick one.

There aren't any words, but there's another flurry of emotion. Mostly worry, but with a quiet undertone of resolve. Then there's a soft current of Psynergy, reaching toward her like a flower tilting toward the sun. It's like the trees again, she realizes. She reaches for it, and when she makes contact the wave falters, almost flinches away.

No, come back, I almost— She reaches again and this time manages to latch on, somehow. She has a sense like she's losing her grip, slipping and falling, and then there's a painless jolt as something takes hold. There's a wooden deck underneath her, uncomfortable—she has a body again? Starting from her neck, a prickling sensation works its way down to her toes.

She flexes her fingers, and realizes both of her hands are being held. Slowly, with great effort, she opens her eyes.

She's lying flat on the deck of the ship, Felix on her left, Ivan on her right. Felix has one of her hands, Ivan has the other, and they both have their free hands outstretched over her body, gripping each other's forearms. Ivan's the first to recognize that her eyes are open, and releases his hold on Felix, slumping backwards with a sigh of relief.

"Felix, your nose is bleeding. You overworked yourself." That's Jenna's voice, and Sheba has to blink and refocus as she realizes that the other six of their newly expanded party are crowded around them. Felix starts to move like he's going to just clean the blood with his sleeve, but Jenna whips a handkerchief at his hand. "Gross, no. Use this."

"What happened?" Sheba asked, but it comes out so breathy she's not sure anyone heard her at first. The exhaustion is so sharp and sudden that even two words are an effort.

"You passed out," Felix says, "only for a few seconds. But then—I don't know, something was different. Kraden said you had a seizure?"

"I tried to read your mind to see what was going on, but I couldn't get in at first," Ivan says, and he sounds tired too, but Sheba notes he's not displaying the signs of Psynergy overuse like Felix is. "They told me you'd been passing out, but since it was different this time maybe that means you stopped it yourself."

"Had enough," she says, managing to lift her shoulder in an approximation of a shrug. Felix slides his hand under her shoulders to help her sit up, and the rest of the group carefully shifts backward to give her some room. Any movement makes her head spin, and she's sure the discomfort shows on her face.

"Enough?" Piers echoes, smiling fondly with a shake of his head. "Only our Sheba could decide she's had enough of mysteriously fainting and speaking in tongues."

"I don't blame you, it sounds exhausting," Ivan says.

Mia gently shoulders her way through the others and kneels in front of Sheba. "Can you follow my finger with your eyes without moving your head?"

Sheba does, and Mia nods, apparently satisfied. "Great job, everything looks normal. Thank goodness you didn't hit your head when you fell. Is it okay if I heal you? That might help you not to feel so tired."

Sheba nods, and Mia presses a hand to her forehead to allow her Psynergy to do its work. It kicks in almost immediately, the fog of exhaustion lifting from her mind, and she stops leaning so heavily on Felix to sit up.

"How long was I out, including the seizure?" she asks, and Mia shrugs.

"Maybe a few minutes? We all came up when Felix called."

"Really?" Sheba says excitedly, turning to look at Felix so quickly that her head spins again for a moment. "We're not days behind?"

"No, but you scared the hell out of me," he says bluntly, squeezing her shoulder.

"I didn't recognize you," she remembers. "It was so strange, I could feel that there was something familiar but…it was like I'd never heard your name or your voice before."

"You were still fighting the power of the Anemos," Ivan says. "So it was easy for you and I to connect, but much harder for Felix to join in."

"You could tell it was Anemos, too? I know I had some kind of a vision, or something to do with them, but I'm struggling..."

"Yeah, I definitely felt it but I didn't get any unusual presence. Whatever it was probably protected itself."

"Hama knows something… She said I'm different. But we didn't have time for her to tell me the rest, she just said she'd explain it all when we came back from lighting Mars."

Garet scoffs. "Man, screw her. She left Ivan out in the dust and then she has to go and be all mysterious with you? Jupiter Adepts are the worst." Mia elbows him, but he just throws his hands out. "I'm right, though!"

"When you passed out before," Piers says, "what sort of things did you see? I could understand a bit of what you were saying, thanks to my education in Ancient Lemurian, but Anemosian and Lemurian cultures didn't have much in common."

"It was usually visions of things that would happen later on," she says. "The first time, I saw Babi's men coming to take me away, and a few moments from Venus Lighthouse. Then the second time it was Jupiter Lighthouse—running to get to the fight on the aerie, seeing Alex. Stuff like that."

"Gross," Jenna says, and that startles a laugh out of Sheba.

"But Piers," Sheba says, "what was I saying? I don't actually speak Ancient Anemosian, or at least I never learned it… I could read signs and things without even trying."

"Nothing that made sense," Piers said, shaking his head apologetically. "Something about the moon, I think."

Sheba tilts her head back, trying to locate the moon in the sky, but it's hidden behind some clouds for the moment. "Maybe it's like with the werewolves in Garoh," she says. "They were so close to Air's Rock, which gave them the power of Jupiter Psynergy, but also turned them into werewolves when the moonlight hit them."

"That's right," Kraden says. "We know Jupiter is connected to our moon in some way…"

"What if our moon wasn't actually a moon," Sheba says. "What if it was Anemos? Anemos harnessed the power of Jupiter in ways that only Jupiter Adepts can be affected by. Air's Rock works the same way, but on a smaller scale."

Isaac tilts his head, considering. "Well, since Anemos lifted off, and you fell from the sky... That adds up, I guess."

"Maybe someone threw me off," Sheba muses, staring up at the sky. "Maybe they thought I was needed here."

"I wonder who," Ivan says. "I wonder if your parents knew, or if it was some kind of ritual. It seems crazy, to do that with a baby…"

"And I wonder how that explains my visions," Sheba says. "They seemed so random, but if what we're thinking is true, maybe they've been watching over me. Like they're trying to protect me or warn me."

All of them stare up at the moon, in quiet contemplation.

Sheba remembers the third fainting spell, after she'd read the sign in Contigo without needing the translation. She could have sworn she heard the voice of a woman, saying something about a daughter. Had she been referring to Sheba herself? Was the vision not from the future, but instead from her past? Her memories of being an infant?

Her only real consolation was that the woman in her memories had sounded quite distraught. She probably hadn't wanted to give Sheba up.

"But wait," Garet says, and they all turn to him. "So if that spot next to Contigo lifted up and became the moon, which is also Anemos...that means the moon is flat, too, right?"

"That's all you got from that?!" Jenna exclaims, and the somber quiet is broken by their laughter. Sheba can almost feel the way everyone else on deck relaxes, crisis averted, and Piers waves Garet over to help him raise the anchor.

As the ship begins to move again, Sheba looks back up at Felix.

"Are you okay?"

"Better now," he admits. "But more importantly, what about you? I was terrified."

"I'm fine," she says. "Really, I feel way better now. I just..." She pauses, chewing on her lip. "I know I had a vision or something. It had to do with the Anemos, it was important!"

"You'll remember," he says, so confident that she immediately feels relieved even though she's not fully convinced.

"How can you be so sure?"

"If it was that big of a deal, I know you will. It might be in another dream, or you might pass out again, but at least this time we'll know what to look out for."

"I don't want to hold you up again," she says, and he grins.

"You won't, I promise. At least we know we don't need to stop anymore if you pass out, you'll wake up eventually and be fine. And you know, I said I'd get you home, but after all this is over… Maybe we should travel."

"Both of us?" she asks, leaning against his side.

"Yeah. We could find out about your past, without all this added pressure from the lighthouses."

Sheba thinks about it for a moment. "Yeah, I think I'd like that. But you know, it's kind of weird… You know how before I was telling you that I don't feel like I'd feel right going back to Lalivero?"

"The same way I'd feel wrong going back to Vale," Felix says, nodding.

"Even if we did find Anemos, or my real parents, or whatever, I don't think I'd want to stay with them. I want to do something for myself. I don't want Anemos to tell me where I'm supposed to go, I just want to let it happen. I want—I want to be here," she realizes, and makes a sort of all-encompassing gesture at their friends, new and old, spread out across the ship.

"So that settles it, then," Felix says, squeezing her shoulder. "We'll travel, find out as much as we can, and then come back to the others."

"Are you okay with that?" Sheba asks. "I know it's difficult with Isaac and Garet…"

They both pause as Isaac and Jenna sit down a few yards away on the deck, Isaac's hand landing too casually next to, but not quite on top of, Jenna's. Sheba smirks.

"They seem to have warmed up to you fine," he says. "And we were friends, before all this. So—ugh, here I go again, feeling optimistic."

Sheba grins. "So, what?"

"So, we'll warm up to each other. I don't think it'll be like it was before the storm, but we're older now. So it would've been different anyway. It might take a while, and we're still going to get on each other's nerves, but... I think things will work out." He pauses, and then nudges Sheba gently. "Hey, I think he finally went for it."

Sheba follows his gaze, and realizes that yes, at some point Isaac had finally grabbed Jenna's hand. She nudges him back. "And?"

The corner of Felix's mouth quirks up. "Isaac, careful with that hand," he calls, and Isaac jerks his hand away as Jenna collapses in laughter. After a moment Isaac laughs too, rolls his eyes, and takes Jenna's hand properly.

"See? We're friends already," Felix says, and Sheba giggles.

"You'll get there eventually," she says, and he nods, tilting his head so they can look each other in the eyes.

"Right now, at least, I think I'm all good."

"Me, too," she says, bumping her nose against his until he kisses her. She might not have perfect answers, but she's got clues. She might not have a flesh-and-blood family, but somehow, she'd found another family of her own anyway.