Once, while putting the finishing touches on his research, a young Clavet girl started watching De Nam. She merely hung over his shoulder and asked him what he was doing. He snapped at her, saying that she could never understand how important this was. She looked hurt, so De Nam calmed down and told her that he was attempting to find away to live without the crystal's protection. Her village elder told her about a man that tried that and never returned. He bit back his annoyance, and told her that he was trying to find a way to live alongside miasma. She didn't tell him that he was crazy. She said "Good luck", and started walking off.

It took a few moments to sink in. She said good luck. Smart but snarky. Clever but cruel. Half-compliments, half-insults. That's what he was used to. Not kind words. So, with no real knowledge of how to react to something like that, he grabbed her arm and asked her what her name was.

Lilite. Lilite of Tipa, caravener with only a moogle to help her, with dark brown hair that just barely brushed past her ears, a pink dress with long sleeves, and black and white striped stockings. She shook her arm away (Much to De Nam's embarishment) and said she hoped his work would not be in vain, but he was a smart person and could probably do it.

She walked away, continuing her journey for myrrh.

He sent letters to Lilite. There were clues in Conall Curach, he could feel it. He trained. He was a master at magic. He could sheild himself until monsters got bored with hitting him. He could defeat a room full of orcs in under a minute. And, like all Selkies, he was quick as hell. He spent his savings on a compact crystal, and traveled to his new research domain. And he kept sending his letters, and she kept replying. Encouraging him. He didn't feel like Shella's mad scientist anymore. He was a man on a mission. At least in her eyes. Having friends was a nice feeling, he supposed.

Monsters where immune to miasma. Why? Because they had adapted to it. Miasma slowly happened other many years. It couldn't have just appeared instantly. It had to.. Fester. Yes. That was the word.

If monsters could adapted, so could he. So, after setting up camp for the night, he grabbed a goblet from his trunk and swiped up some water, thick and murky with miasma. No one could've payed him enough to drink the stuff. But this was in the name of science, so... He chugged it down immediately.

It tasted awful, like someone someone turned poisonous fumes in liquid, and he had to clamp his hand over his mouth in order to keep it down. Then came the stomach aches, which turned into pain everywhere. He shivered, he coughed violently, he couldn't move. But this was for science, no, for the world!

After what felt like an eternity, he was able to move. He quickly grabbed his ink and some slightly damp paper, and began writing to Lilite again. "Drinking the water will bring constant pains, but the end results will be worth it."

The changes came slowly. His skin began to turn to an odd green color, slightly scaly. The ends justified the means. He began to notice odd lines appearing on his neck. Gills. The ends still justified the means. His teeth grew sharper. Still, the ends justified the means. He told her that. Soon, he'd be free, and she could, too.

When he noticed his hands were webbed and his eyes were turning yellow with his pupils narrowing, the ends no longer justified the means. He tried to swallow his pure spring water, and immediately spit it back out, gagging. He was too used to the miasma water.

It dawned on him. He was becoming a monster.

He almost threw up as the realization hit him.

He grabbed the ink pen and his paper. Shaking, he wrote. She needed to be here.

Yes, one less caravanner in the world.

No, no. That's not why he wanted her here. She was his friend. She'd help him.

She's here.

He could sense it.

He was a full monster now, though he couldn't stand to look at his own reflection. His magic was dark, his hands were scaly, but he still had his old bandanna, the only thing he kept from his life old life, tied on his arm. Even the compact crystal lost its glow.

On a lighter note, he could breath underwater and in the miasma air. That was pretty interesting.

Step step step. The sound of many feet trampling across across the muddy ground.

He jumped out from the water.

A lilty girl in blue armor, a selkie girl with blue haired in a bun, a nervous looking clavat boy with white clothing and a tattered looking hat, a Yuke boy with a slightly dented helmet, and ah, yes, Lilite, all stared in shock. He had almost forgotten that she had gained a caravan over the years.

"Help." he hissed. "Please."

The nervous looking Clavat boy unsheathed his sword and swung at him. He dodged.

They want to harm you!

They can't understand me.

Slash, boom! The fight waged on.

Help me.

Kill them!

Please.

Fight back!

He slashed at them against his better judgement.

Keep going!

He fought more. He froze the lilty girl for a split second, he put another dent in the Yuke's helmet. He tore the ribbon from the Selkie's hair, cutting the back of her neck a bit in the process, he stabbed the Clavat boy in the arm.

But he wouldn't fight her. Not his friend. His only friend.

But she fought him.

The Yuke was busy healing the Selkie and the Clavat, the Lilty shivered on the ground, not being able to handle the sudden switch from freezing to the warm, humid air. It was him and her. Him and her.

She made the first move. She slashed at him with her sword. She looked so much older than when she first saw him. Her hair grew out a bit, her bangs began to cover her left eye. She slashed again. He noticed a few scars decorated her face. Nothing too serious, only the stuff you would notice if you really looked. Another slash. He didn't want to fight back. He wanted to remember her letters, he wanted to see her face smiling as she opened one, knowing he was still alive out there.

And the killing blow came when she lunged at him, stabbing him through the gut.

He barely felt it. She pulled the sword out with ease, and he collapsed, fading the way monsters did when they died. She grabbed the stained bandanna on his arm, and looked at it. Collecting her spoils from the battle.

She saw the inscription. Her eyes widened, her faced paled. She crouched beside him, shaking him, shouting his name.

"Thank you" he hissed with his dying breath. She'd never be able to understand. She put him out of his misery.

She was such a good friend.

The dragon zombie was nothing compared to De Nam. With the myrrh collection, they read their letters from home and rested. Monsters never came towards mrryh trees. It pained them too much.

Like drinking miasma water to humans.

Lilite washed the old bandanna, surprised to find that it wasn't ripped. Just a little dirty.

"Hey. Lilite." Said Rina La, the Selkie girl, tying her hair back again with a new ribbon. "Listen, sorry about your friend."

"It's alright." Lilite said, playing with the worn piece of cloth in her hands.

Dmitri, the Clavat boy, swallowed some food. "Well, y-yeah. Think about it. It probably pained him to be a monster." Here he stopped, chomping down some more food like he hadn't eaten in years. "We put him out of his misery."

"I did." said Lilite, her eyes watering up again. The Lilty girl, Beatriz, whacked Dmitri on his head with the handle of her Dragon Lance. "Can it, ya idiot. Can'tcha see she's depressed enough already without yer comfortin' words?!" she snapped.

"Calm down, Beatriz." the Yuke boy, Donovon, said. "You need to continue your training." Beatriz murmured a few rude words, and continued her horrible attempts at magic.

Donovon walked to Lilite. "You know, I heard if someone dies on their way to a myrrh tree, a fellow caravanner carves his grave into the myrrh tree when they reach it."

She gazed up at him, and gave a bit of a smile. "Yes, I believe that would be appropiate."

"Hey, Lilly, use this." said Rina La, holding a small knife. Donovon grabbed it and gave it to Lilite.

She began to carve De Nam's name into the tree and noticed, with awe, that from each cut came a glow.

Dedicated to De Nam of Shella, she wrote. Died trying to save the world.

She was never too good at dedications.

"Hey, we'd better leave. The papaomus never fairs too well when on it's own." Dmitri said, packing up his spare food.

"Be there in a second." Lilite said, staring at the grave, then the bandanna. She tied the old thing in hair, keeping her bangs back. She'd be able to fight better this way.

"Was all your work in vain?" She whispered, running her fingers against the words on the tree. "For what it's worth, I don't think it was." And with that, she ran back the rest of her caravan as they began to travel back to their wagon.

Crystal Chronicles is very unappreciated. I recently got past the part I was stuck on for years (Hint: It starts with "Lynari" and ends with "Goddamn Desert") and since then, I have witnessed the death of a mighty knight, read the poems of a swindling poet inflicted with amnesia, lead a princess back to her castle, and discussed with mystical beats about the past. Still haven't defeated the last boss though.

TL;DR: Expect more Crystal Chronicles stories from me.