They found a third Stela, asked him what to do with it....again. He picked the optimist's path, but that's not surprising. Not on the surface, not to the rest of us. Not when he's already done it twice.
Nevermind that there's a hundred doubts between us--ninety-eight his, the kid and I splitting the remainder--a choice had to be made, and he had to make it. I won't give him an easy out, and the kid is banned from opening his mouth as long as he thinks his dolls are ever an option.
They don't know he doesn't believe it. He's all smiles as usual, but none of the stories presented have him actually convinced. History backs the older view, with crimes littered through the years. The current relations back the kids' view, but Ishgard in a hundred years won't resemble Ishgard a hundred years ago. Personally, I suspect the Namazu here were hunted for food.
But there's no time to research, and nothing left to find, so he makes his wishing manifest. Maybe it'll bite him in the ass, but hopefully not.
It seems I've grown, too.
Eyes full of stars are a dangerous trait, but I've learned that having him obediently follow me is worse. He knows the risks, been burned enough--more than I'd like--but dreamers should dream, and it's been too long since he last looked up.