Adelia's eyes opened for what felt like the hundredth time that night, except for this time, she found herself squinting in the morning light. She found it was easy to arrange her sleeping in shifts if her bed was practically a thorn bush.

She lifted her head slowly, and found the camping equipment still intact, but showing little signs of life yet. The men must still be sleeping, she figured.

As quietly as she could, she rose from the brush, gingerly stretching her limbs. Slinking further into the trees to avoid detection, she slipped a hand into her small bag and brought out some provisions - simple meal substitute bars - and nibbled on it.

Leaning against the trunk of a large tree, she reflected on the ease of her journey so far. Aside from the slight hiccup the night before, the men had not been hard to track, and certainly seemed oblivious to her presence. Perhaps they were not so big a threat as the Empire had thought. She could sneak into their tent right now if she wanted to and make quick work of the slumbering prince and his companions, and gladly. It would only take a quick flick of the wrist against a pale throat... Her fingers twitched at the thought. But she had been given strict instructions that her mission was strictly reconnaissance. So reluctantly, no harm was to come to the Prince by her hand.

She could admit, however, that the group of men was a bit different than she had been made to believe. She had been taught to be cold, calculating, and an instrument of destruction, when she needed to be. Her training was rigorous and sometimes cruel, but she assumed it was in preparation for real targets, for she had been taught that the outside world was cruel and chaotic. She knew order would only be realized through the Empire's total control. However, the group of men she had been assigned to didn't seem exactly bloodthirsty. On her first night following them, she had been stunned to watch them relaxing at the end of the day, playing cards, lazy smiles on their faces. They ran into battles while engaged in cheerful conversation. She couldn't fathom it.

Finishing the last of her food, she waited for the sound of the group to begin to stir.

Soon enough, her ears pricked at a commotion near her, but it was not the light scuffling of the men. The thrashing and felling of trees, of underbrush crushed, told her that something was heading her way from the forest. Something big.

She pressed herself against the trunk of the tree, making herself as small as possible, and waited as the crashing became steadily louder. She took a deep breath to steady her pulse as she considered her options.

Engaging this thing, whatever it was, was out of the question. A full scale battle this close to the camp was sure to alert her targets of her presence. The best thing she could think of to do would be to either pray this creature was harmless, or pray it didn't notice her.

Within seconds, a hulking form thrashed out of the trees. A massive beast, bigger than anything she had ever seen, stalked forward. It had horns protruding from its temples that were as big as she was, and a gaping maw that looked like it could swallow a small house whole. It snarled, revealing a row of menacing teeth.

As she watched the beast warily, she placed the name. Behemoth. She'd read about them, much like she had all the fauna of the area, but never dreamed she'd be this close to one.

Its face was turned from her, the profile alert and furious. Adelia tried her luck at inching away from the creature, little by little, but to her horror, saw the beast's nostrils flare. Its cunning, wild eyes swung to her, and it growled.

Adelia stopped, heart racing, desperately wanting to draw her daggers. But as the beast advanced, she realized even if she could give away her position, she wouldn't be able to take the thing on all by herself.

She realized with a stab that no matter what she did, it meant failure. She would die here, erased by some common beast, to be replaced by the next best spy at the Empire. Forgotten.

She braced herself for impact as the Behemoth leaped at her, its claws gleaming in the early morning light. It swung a massive paw, and she felt the claws rip through the flesh on her arm as she was thrown against a tree. A shriek of pain escaped her lips and the world went blurry.

The creature roared, and she closed her eyes, preparing for the finishing blow... But it never came.

She opened her eyes, confused, and with her muddled mind could dimly make out four darting forms at the feet of the beast. The realization of what was happening threw her back into reality.

No.

She got to her feet shakily, and hissed as she felt the searing pain in her arm. Three deep gashes marred her arm where the Behemoth had clawed her, and blood was flowing freely from them, staining her arm red. She ignored the pain briefly and tried to remember methods of escape, of disappearing without a trace. But as she felt her strength ebbing away with every heartbeat, the only thought that came was run.

I need to get away. They can't see me. I have to...

Her thoughts came in a jumbled mess as she ran blindly through the forest. She had no idea where she was going really, she only cared that she wasn't found by her "rescuers." But the more blood she lost, the harder she found it to stay upright. She tripped on the root of a tree and couldn't find the strength to get back up. Miserably, bleeding out in the dirt, she allowed the creeping blackness to swallow her vision and she felt nothing.

They had heard the roar, which had woken all but Ignis, who was of course already awake. This in itself was no cause for alarm, the enchantments of the haven would keep them safe from any outside beast. What roused them to action was the muffled scream of pain, just outside the campsite.

Within seconds, they were all scrambling outside, weapons at the ready.

The Behemoth was easy enough to see - it was nearly two stories tall - but it took them a moment for their eyes to fall on the figure cloaked in black, sitting frozen at the base of a great tree. The beast was feet from the person, poising itself for the killing blow.

Without waiting for instruction, Noctis warped forward to deflect the strike, and the others hurried after him.

After several strenuous minutes, the beast was on its last legs. Ignis took a step back from the battle and called to Gladiolus to get his attention.

"Push it back, I'm going to tend the wounded."

Gladio nodded, his eyes fixed on the enemy, leaping and slashing.

Ignis sprinted to the tree where the crumpled form had been, but found only a bloodstained patch of grass. He crouched to the ground and frowned, his gloved fingers grazing the soiled weeds. Anyone leaving that much blood was in no condition to get up and leave.

He straightened and scrutinized the forest floor. It didn't take long before he spotted a few more droplets of crimson, with a few more some feet behind those. He'd found his trail.

He hurried along, but made certain he didn't lose the gruesome spatters. He kept his hearing trained for any sounds of struggle of any kind.

Going out of their way to save some poor injured soul might not be something he or any of the others did often, but damned if he was going to let someone bleed out in a forest all alone. Just because they were sworn to protect Noctis didn't mean they couldn't help someone else when needed.

Finally, he spotted the cloaked figure, collapsed face-first among the roots of a tree. Inwardly, he was surprised, and a little bit impressed they had made it so far, but did wonder briefly what had caused them to flee. He quieted these thoughts, mentally saving them for a more appropriate time, and rushed to the side of the fallen person.

He grabbed the sprawled arm of the person - white and slender - and felt for a pulse. A weak thumping assured him she was alive for now, and he gently flipped them to their front.

A young woman's face, pale as snow, greeted him. Her long golden hair was matted with blood, he noticed, both from the back of her head and a rather nasty-looking wound on her right arm. Ignis' brow furrowed as he procured some bandages, now realizing the extent of her wounds.

He did the best he could to stop the blood flow, using copious amounts of their bandage supply on the injured woman. He only hoped he hadn't found her too late.

Slowly, gently, he lifted her into his arms, finding her much lighter than he expected. As he jogged through the trees, carrying her back towards camp, he stole quick glances at her face, trying to glean some information of who she might be off of her appearance.

Her face was twisted into a grimace of pain and fear in her unconscious state, stretching the translucent skin over her cheekbones, giving her an altogether haggard appearance. However, it was easy to tell that 'haggard' was only a recent description of the woman. Had her expression and wounds not been so grim, one would notice right away the loveliness of the face. Ignis didn't linger long on this thought, but did find himself struck by the contrast of her thick black lashes against her pale cheek.

Her clothing was not that of someone poor, or even of the middle class. This woman was not simply scraping along, judging by the richness of the fabrics she was wearing. She was dressed in simple, if expensive, traveling clothes - light black boots, sturdy shirt and pants, a thick traveling cloak. The cloak did catch Ignis off guard a tad, as hardly anyone in Lucis - save a few of the nobility and some eccentrics - wore cloaks anymore.

He returned to the campsite, the woman tucked in his arms, to find the others waiting for him, weapons gone and the body of the Behemoth slumped several yards away. Gladio spotted him first, and surprise flew across his face as he saw the unconscious woman in Ignis' arms. As he went to meet him, the Noctis and Prompto spotted them as well.

"She... doesn't look good," Gladio said plainly as Ignis crouched to the ground to set her down.

Prompto gaped at the injured woman. "Yeah... like really not good."

"I'm well aware." Ignis said curtly, his brow furrowing when he saw she had bled through her bandages already. He straightened and strode briskly to the bag of equipment that still laid out from the night before. "Get some curatives ready, Noct," he called over his shoulder as he rifled through the bag. Noctis complied wordlessly, summoning a potion, his eyes fixed on the stranger's gruesome injuries. The prince's skin paled.

Prompto was kneeling next to the woman now, concern plain on his face as he studied her. "Wh-what are you gonna do, Ignis?"

The bespectacled man pulled out his miniature sewing kit, the one he normally used to mend their clothing, and nodded at the blond. "I'm going to attempt to close her wounds."

Prompto nearly gagged as he watched Ignis once more crouch beside her and remove the soiled bandage, revealing the gore beneath. "Oh man, Iggy, that's so hardcore."

Ignis ignored him, and began threading a needle, hyper-focused on his task. "Noct," he called to the prince, looking up. "The potion?"

Noctis was at his side in an instant, offering up the bottle. Ignis accepted it, and poured the curing substance over the worst of the gashes in her arm. He noticed an inquisitive look from Prompto and replied to his wordless question. "To clean it,"

From there, he removed his gloves and set to work sewing up the wound. Delicately, as if handling nothing more than a tattered shirt, he did his best to stem the blood and sew up the stranger's skin. Precise, uniform stitches soon lined her arm where the cuts had been, now losing a great deal less blood. Ignis himself was not a particularly squeamish person, but did notice that both Prompto and Noctis had to turn away while he worked. Even Gladiolus looked a bit sick.

Finished, he dressed the newly-stitched gash as well as the scrape on the back of her head, wrapping bandages around her forehead like a strange bandana. Surprisingly, the girl had not stirred once during this ordeal, however, Ignis did notice her breathing becoming less labored as the potion in her arm took effect.

Satisfied, he scooped the girl into his arms once again and carried her into the tent, carefully setting her atop a crumpled sleeping bag. The lines of her face had smoothed over in the wake of his impromptu surgery, and just as he had originally thought, she was quite lovely. A delicate nose, full - though currently bloodless - lips, long golden hair, and once more her long lashes caught his eye. He observed her pleasant features like he would observe a sunset - nice to look at, but nothing more. They didn't even know who this person was or what she was doing there in the first place. He wasn't about to get carried away just because there was a comely woman in his midst.

The tent flap opened behind him and he heard a breathy sigh escape the newcomer. He turned his head slightly and found Prompto gazing down on the girl, a moony look in his eyes. The gunslinger had decidedly less restraint when it came to throwing his heart away to women.

"She's really pretty, isn't she?" Ignis raised his eyebrow at him and Prompto's expression suddenly turned sheepish. "I mean... when she's not all bloody."

Ignis' mouth curled into a teasing smile. "Betraying Cindy, now, are we?"

Prompto's eyes widened and he whirled his whole body to face Ignis, puffing out his chest. "Hey, I didn't mean anything like that!"

Ignis chuckled softly and placed a light hand on his friend's shoulder. Finally sensing the jest, the blond man relaxed, and the two turned their attention back to the girl in silence.

After a few moments of watching her chest rise and fall in the dim light of the tent, Ignis spoke quietly.

"You are correct, however."

Prompto's eyes swiveled away from the stranger to meet Ignis', confused. "Huh?"

"She is quite lovely,"

Prompto's eyebrows raised, and he grinned suggestively, but before he could think of a joke, Ignis turned on his heel and exited the tent, prompting a "Hey!" from the gunslinger.

Gladio was standing outside, arms crossed, waiting for him.

"Well? How is she?"

The strategist offered a weak smile. "She seems to be resting. Whether comfortably or not we won't know for sure."

Gladio's face remained hard and expressionless. "What are we gonna do with her?"

Prompto appeared beside Ignis. "We're gonna stay with her, aren't we?" Concern clouded his features as he glanced between the two of his friends. It was times like these the man's soft heart was best displayed; the girl was a stranger, but he was already plotting the best way to help her.

"Of course," Ignis replied reassuringly.

Gladio uncrossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "Iggy, we don't even know who this girl is! We can't be babysitting her. We've got a job to do."

Ignoring the warrior's rising temper, Ignis regarded him coolly. "Gladio, I understand your concern, but I won't abandon an innocent in need."

Noctis, who had been quietly observing the conversation, stepped up and looked up at Gladiolus. "Neither will I. She needs our help, Gladio."

The larger man sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm just trying to take care of us first. Of you first, Noct."

"I'm fine, Gladio. She isn't. We'll stick with her as long as she needs us."

Prompto pumped his fist in the air. "Yeah! New party member added!" He flashed a toothy grin at Noctis. "Noct, takin' charge!"

Gladiolus looked slightly annoyed, but shrugged. "Whatever you say, your Highness. But we don't even know her name."

"She will wake, in time," Ignis reminded them. "Then, perhaps, we'll have some answers."