The glow of dying embers bathed the campsite in warm, muted light. The other members of Balthier's party were sleeping around the outer edge of the fire, sprawled haphazardly, curled in on themselves, or tangled in bedrolls to protect from the chill of the night air. And...one other, not sleeping at all.

Vaan's steady rumble of a snore would have warded off all but the most determined of predators, but nonetheless, it was Balthier's turn to keep watch. And so he sat upon a mossy boulder, surveying the flat landscape of the Tchita Uplands, occasionally tossing an extra branch upon the dying fire to extend its life.

Ashe twisted fretfully beneath her blanket, her brow drawn into a frown. Basch lay silent and still near her, the hilt of his sword clenched in his fist even in sleep, lest an enemy take him unawares. Fran curled on her side, one ear relaxed in sleep and curled towards her forehead. Vaan lay splayed upon his back, snoring peacefully. And Penelo...Penelo was gazing up at the night sky, one arm resting over her stomach and the other aimed up with her fingers outstretched as though she thought she might catch a star.

"You ought to sleep," Balthier murmured low, though he was sure none of the others would wake at the sound of his voice if even Vaan's racket failed to stir them. "We're trying for the Phon Coast tomorrow."

"How could I sleep?" Penelo whispered back. "There's so many stars tonight. Have you ever seen so many?"

Balthier squinted at the sky, but the inky black night looked the same to him as it always had. "I've never had reason to count them, so I couldn't say. Surely you've seen stars before."

She shrugged, a disarmingly elegant rise and fall of her shoulders that seemed strangely incongruous with what he knew of her. A street urchin, an errand girl, and, more recently, a thief when the need struck. How had she acquired that fluid grace?

"Until a month ago, I'd never left Rabanastre. The city lights drown out most of the stars, I guess. I've never seen them like this - the sky's thick with them." He heard the wonder in her voice, and it made him wish, suddenly, that he could see the stars through her eyes, experience the magnitude of fascination that she did.

"You'd never left Rabanstre?" He seized on that, perplexed that someone could live the entirety of their life never having left the city they were born to.

"No," she murmured. "Even when my parents were alive, we weren't rich. Traveling generally costs money. It wasn't the sort of expense we could afford." A wistful sigh followed. "So I'd never even been out of the city walls until Vaan went missing while running an errand for Dalan. The walls were for safety, and I knew that, but I resented it. But even the walls didn't keep out the Imperial army. Those same walls that kept me in couldn't keep invaders out, so what were they really good for? They weren't walls, they were just a cage providing the illusion of safety."

"Safety itself is an illusion," Balthier countered. "A cage could never provide safety against a truly determined enemy. People like illusions and the sense of security they provide. Illusions mean one need never worry for their own safety."

"I don't like them." She shifted to her side, turning her attention to him. "I spent my whole life inside those walls. I spent my childhood trying to catch glimpses of the stars. And now that I can finally see them, I don't ever want to go back to that cage. I know every inch of Rabanastre, every alley, every shop, every merchant. But I don't want to languish away in my tiny corner of the world, never having seen what's beyond it." She flopped onto her back again, spreading her arms wide. "Haven't you ever just looked at the stars, Balthier? Haven't you ever just looked and..and wondered? There could be another world out there - hundreds of them, maybe - like ours. Worlds we've never seen, never dreamed of."

The fire hissed and crackled, jerking Balthier out of his reverie - because for a moment there, he'd been staring at the sky, wondering like she did. And for just a moment, he, too, had seen the glittering stars full of mysteries and possibilities. But now they were ordinary again, just tiny flecks of gilt across the velvety black night sky. He reached down, gathered a few branches, and tossed them onto the fire. The hungry flames licked upwards, devouring, setting glowing bits of ash adrift in the air.

"I think perhaps you'd better sleep," he said finally. "If you're to be at your best tomorrow, you'll need rest. And I'm to wake Vaan for his watch soon. There will be opportunities to consider the stars after we reinstate her highness." He nodded to indicate Ashe, now stretched out on her stomach, head pillowed on her folded arms.

Neither of them voiced the ever-present knowledge that each day could be their last, that in the face of such incredibly daunting odds, their chances of success dwindled by the day and these quiet hours of night might very well be all they'd ever have.

Penelo sighed heavily. "You're right. Of course. Good night, Balthier." She shifted onto her side, her back to him, curling up tightly. But her right hand remained outstretched toward the horizon, where the moon hung low in the sky, holding court encircled by a glistening retinue of stars.

Slowly her breathing grew deep and even. And instead of waking Vaan for his shift, Balthier kept watch over the terrain and party until moonset, until the hazy pink rays of dawn tinted the horizon...but mostly he kept watch over Penelo.