Ffamran. The name is quietly tucked away in a corner of David's mind. Not many people's inner child, the echo of their past that in some ways represented the ways the adult was unkind to their own history, had their own name. Their own identity. It could, for all he knew count as a true dead-name, and he would avoid using it. But perhaps one day Balthier would need to hear it said in love and support, and David needed to know it then.

"Sixteen is quite young for the weight of the world on your shoulders, Balthier. Far too young. Who is to say that someone would have taken you seriously, status or otherwise? Or that word of what was planned would have done anything beyond bring the war earlier? But here I don't see that youth before me. I see a strong man, one who went through a great weight. Who already told me he ended up helping another fight for humanity itself, fight for the freedom of your lives. And these demon-like things you mentioned, the ones that shaped your father, that manipulated your world, do you think you're more responsible than they were?"

Yes, Balthier had been in the game, but it wasn't as a player. He'd been a piece on the board. And that? That's crushing.

"Can you even begin to fathom what you would have had to do to stop those people? Yes, speaking up would have been better, but it wasn't the only path. You were thrown in over your head."