'We'll reach shore soon, Captain. I can smell the wheat drying out in Finscale Town.' 'What we brought there was sugarcane seeds—they won't grow into wheat in any case.' 'Er, I was just wondering... When we go ashore, Captain, can I quit?' 'I understand. Hold out your hand.' '...A gold coin? A coin with... arms and legs?! What's this about, Captain?' 'Let me explain.' More than a decade ago, in a dark and gloomy church, a boy warily sneaks a glance at the soft-spoken priest. Once, as he was held by that priest, he would force open the man's eyelids, trying to see what secrets he hid within his ever-narrowed eyes. Now, however, the boy shudders at the cold glint occasionally shot from them like bullets. 'I know you can hear me, Isidro.' The boy does not reply. Blood seeps from the wound on the priest's cheek, as the boy stumbles backwards in fear. 'You have tried to kill me. You have made up your mind, I see. If that is the case, you should make the same choice your fellow students did.' The boy tightens his grip around his Arts unit as he looks away. He remembers how sick he felt as one of those students squirmed on the ground, before a single cold eye was plucked from the depths of their skull. 'You are well aware, Isidro, that those children who chose to become my kin did not do so unwillingly. If you do not wish it, I shall not force you.' The boy continues to keep his mouth shut. He remembers the final words spat out by that other student before their life as human ceases: 'Why, Maestro? Why won't you teach me swordplay and alchemy like you do Isidro? Why is this the only path I can choose?' It was then the boy realized the priest's so-called choice was no choice at all. He was the one who dictated the options available to everyone, after all. 'If you do not wish to choose...' The priest holds out a gold coin. '...You may consider if you would like to leave this life-altering decision up to chance.' The boy does not take it. Only once the priest has placed it on the ground does he reach out his hand to grab it. He knows he is powerless to resist. He knows he must make the choice the priest has given him... Or perhaps, think of a way to refuse that choice. The boy flips the coin into the air. Its cold gleam streaks across the dark room. He holds on tight to his Arts unit, giving the coin the lightest of taps. A fine stream of silver metal winds its way around the coin, becoming its 'arms' and 'legs', allowing it to stand on the ground firmly. Not on its front, nor its back, but on the coin's 'third side'. 'Ah... I see. You believe you still have other choices. No matter. If you are so sure of this, then go and see for yourself. I leave this question and the right to choose with you... There will come a day you will answer me in your own words.' 'So, Captain, you mean that... you're leaving it up to me to choose? What are the options?' '...No. I told you this to let you know you are free.' 'Then what about the coin?' 'Nene loves that coin. Take it, and have some fun. It's so that you won't regret not having the chance to play with Nene a little bit longer before you go... Once you're done, that coin will come running back to me on its own.'