[Fran is on her hands and knees, nails digging into the dirt, all that good stuff] I-It burns! [Aaand a feral scream, and oh lookie, red eyes and AIDA dots. Anyone who gets near her will be promptly attacked]

...Balthier.

[Fran is nakey~ And holding her bow and arrows. And pissed.] Whoever did this would be wise to confess. The faster you do so, the faster your death will be.

[Cue annoyed looking Fran.]

...Balthier, it would seem that I cannot use my magicks or technicks.

...This most certainly is not Ivalice.  Would there, by any chance, be a young man named Balthier anywhere near here?  I'm certain he's found a way to make his name known already.  

( History )