This area of plot is where I may “deviate from the prepared remarks” a bit; there’s a lot of headcanony stuff and game adjustments for a while. But you’re not exactly reading this in order to just experience the game again, are you. : )
Song at the end is “The Rose“, which sounds like a traditional folk song but is actually from the 70’s written by one Amanda McBroom; my preferred recording is the King’s Singers’ choral arrangement. It’s also on the Only Yesterday soundtrack in Japanese!
Chapter 37: Shattered Peace
Achiyo and the other Warriors of Light saw little of Aymeric over the following few days; it seemed all of Ishgard had been plunged into a whirlwind of activity and preparation. Honoroit was out of bed with only some scarring on his brow to show of his ordeal, Emmanellain was somehow back to his old self without being back to his old ways, and Alphinaud was looking much more confident.
Falcon’s Nest, too, was once more abustle with crowds, even more than before, and once more they seemed hopeful. Trusting. The weather was clear and sunny, and remained so. The Warriors of Light gradually assembled there, some of them anxious to avoid a repeat of the previous conference attempt, some of them simply at loose ends. R’nyath, in particular, was asking around about who was present at the previous attempt, even if they were not there this time. When she asked him about it, he gave her a sly look. “When I’ve found who I’m looking for, I might need your help. Until then, don’t worry about it.” Odd of him to be keeping a secret, but she let it lie.
Achiyo and Alphinaud found Artoirel on the appointed day, a brilliantly sunny day to lift one’s spirits, overseeing the last pieces of organization. But though he was busy, he turned to acknowledge them. “Well met, Lady Achiyo, Master Alphinaud, and thank you for looking after my brother. They say he fought bravely – that he did not dishonour his house.”
“By no means,” she said. “Lord Emmanellain has finally grown up, I think.”
That drew a wry smile out of him. “I hope so. But to you, my lady, we owe everything.”
She had thought about it, how everyone seemed to want to congratulate her on ‘winning the fight for them’ – but really, if it had not been one of the Warriors of Light crossing blades with Raubahn, who would have been able to stop him? Aymeric himself had been pushed back. “It was my pleasure.”
Artoirel gestured to the already-crowded square. “As you can see, we have made every effort to strike while the iron is hot. We made our intentions known, and that all would be welcome to attend. And so they came. By the grace of the Fury, they came.” She could not tell if he sounded awed or apprehensive. “The ceremony will not be a lengthy affair, but there is still much to be done! I would speak with you more, but I must see to my duties. As for you and Master Alphinaud – you will do naught but enjoy yourselves, is that clear? If any dare beg your assistance again, I will have words.”
He frowned ferociously to emphasize his statement, and she chuckled at it. He gave her a little smile and a nod, and strode off to deal with another problem.
Alphinaud turned to her. “Well, there you have it. We have been forbidden from meddling. Shall we wait here, or walk about some more?”
“I should like to walk about,” she said. “Tam said he might come, and I am curious if he did.”
“Oh, yes, that would be… good.” Did Alphinaud miss Tam as much as she did? “I only hope Thancred and the others will not be late. Epochal events do not come around very often.”
“Yes,” she said. “They will not miss this.” She waved at him. “I shall return soon, I am sure.”
She was at the airship landing, looking out over the cloud-filled abyss between Western Coerthas and Ishgard, when the flutter of wings alerted her to a flight of black chocobos. She looked up and saw a party of Temple Knights escorting Lucia and Aymeric in to land.
She lifted a hand in greeting, but was surprised when Aymeric and Lucia came to greet her personally. “Well met, Lady Achiyo. How do you fare today?”
“Greetings, Lady Achiyo,” Lucia said, all business. “Lord Commander, I will check the security detail.”
“Greetings,” she replied to both of them, though Lucia was already striding away with a wave. “I am well.” She glanced away. “I feel strangely nervous, though I have little to do. Are you well?”
“Aye, though mine own nerves are high. But there is nothing to fear, I know it. Vidofnir wishes this as much as we do.” He glanced towards the gate, where one of his knights was beckoning to him, then turned back to her quickly. “My dear friend… I doubt I will ever be able to thank you enough for all you have done. But when the conference is successfully concluded, I damn well mean to try.”
She pressed a hand to her armoured heart, overwhelmed. “I-I am very… Thank you. You had better go.”
“Until later,” he called, and hurried off.
Kami be with her, her feelings for him only became worse every time she saw him. She had to control them better. But it was so difficult when he was saying such things with such earnest intensity…
Her linkpearl went off and her hand went to her earring. “Achiyo? It’s Alphinaud. Tam is with me.”
“I shall be there shortly,” she said, and made her way back into the gathering crowd of Falcon’s Nest.
Aymeric gazed out over the crowd. Several thousand Ishgardians and Coerthans had crammed in together to the village square of Falcon’s Nest, and he was gratified to see most of them looking hopeful. There, in a little cluster towards the back, were House Fortemps… and the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. The Warriors of Light. Achiyo Kensaki. She was talking with Chuchupa now, the Lalafells in their group standing on an unused piece of scaffolding to have a hope of seeing through the Elezen that surrounded them. The sunlight sparkled on her silver armour. She was smiling.
Lucia walked up behind him, speaking softly. “The appointed hour approaches.”
“Aye,” he said, rather absently, looking to see who else he knew. Off to the side was a pink-haired woman in chains who gave him a death glare from beside an armed guard. The leader of the protest, as he understood, who had tried so hard to tear down what he was trying to hard to build.
Lucia caught the direction of his gaze. “She begged leave to watch the proceedings. I saw no reason not to grant it.”
That was exactly as he would have wished, but his mind had already moved on to other thoughts. “…Should I choose to deviate from my prepared remarks, I ask that you trust in my judgement.”
Lucia looked at him in surprise, then smiled. “Have I ever done otherwise?” She had never, his best friend, his faithful companion, and the reminder steadied his heart.
A sound came from the sky, a warning growl, and the crowd gasped and cried out to see Vidofnir approaching from the west over the mountains. Aymeric squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, nodded at the thaumaturge in charge of amplifying his voice, and walked out to meet her.
The people became very quiet as the white dragon angled her wings and came in for an expert landing on the platform they had built to receive her. It only shook slightly, and Aymeric mentally thanked House Durendaire’s carpenters for their efforts. She stretched her wings once more, then folded them neatly on her back and greeted him. “Ah, how long it hath been since our peoples met thus, children of Thordan. Even by our reckoning.”
He smiled and spread his arms in welcome. “Vidofnir, daughter of Hraesvelgr, we give thanks for your visit and bid you welcome to Falcon’s Nest.”
Her scarlet eyes were calm, mesmerizing. He had never looked so deeply into a dragon’s eyes before. Her voice was rich and strong – she had no need of amplification – and musical, like a deep clarinet. “Our sire bade us hearken unto the whispers of our hearts. They spoke to us of a paradise lost – of bonds of brotherhood which they yearn to see restored.”
“Ours too yearn for such a restoration,” he answered. “And they have guided us here this day, that they might yearn no longer.” He walked to the edge of the platform, closed his eyes, and prepared to deviate from his official notes. It was not Vidofnir he had to convince. It was his own people.
He opened his eyes and looked at the crowd with fierce conviction. “Brothers and sisters, ye who stand as witness, hearken to me! Since the days of eld, when the bonds between man and dragon were sundered by our hand, our peoples have known only war. Bloodshed without end, losses beyond counting – and still we fought.” His voice became hardly a whisper, aching with grief for faces living only now in his memory. “And still we fought.”
There was dead silence below him.
“Some wounds do not heal. The dead cannot be returned to us. But we the living can yet choose another course. Here and now, we can lay down the burden – this hatred, this vengeance. Our forebears fought not so that we could die, but that we might live! So let us honour their sacrifice and spare our children this death sentence. Let us gift them a new legacy: Life!” He spoke the last word gently, a plea and never a command. Now there was a murmur, and he saw tears on many faces.
Vidofnir spoke, and he turned back to her. “Betwixt our peoples yawneth a divide deeper than the deepest abyss, wider than the widest sea. Generations will live and die ere this divide is bridged. Knowing this, doth thy heart yet yearn for peace, son of Thordan?”
He nodded. “Look now on the legacy we would leave to our children. A dream of peace inscribed in stone for generations to come.” He lifted his hand in signal, and the sheet over the great relief of metal and stone fell to the floor, revealing it with all the suddenness he had hoped for. The crowd gasped, and even Vidofnir looked surprised. He hadn’t expected a dragon could look surprised.
The relief’s image had been sourced from former heretics, from images reportedly created from before King Thordan’s betrayal, then made suitably ostentatious and modern by Dzemael stonemasons. It was of a woman with a sweet face, wrapped in a cloak, smiling at a dragon whose body twined about her, his wings spread to protect her. Between them was a golden crystal star, a symbol of hope.
“Father and his beloved,” Vidofnir said, gazing at it in wonder, and he heard memories buried in her voice. “As they were so long ago. Happy and at peace.” She looked at him. “The dream they shared shall be ours once more.”
Someone in the crowd began to applaud, and soon the entire gathering was cheering. Aymeric smiled gratefully at the white dragon-
“Never!!” came a roar from above, and Aymeric looked up in startled alarm to see a very familiar crimson figure standing on the top of the tallest gate tower. There was confusion below, but all he could see was Estinien’s form staring down at them, the Gae Bolg clamped in his hand.
Lucia and a unit of Temple Knights, Dragoon Knights rushed to Aymeric’s side, but even as they ran forward, Estinien leapt into the air – and landed lance-first on Vidofnir’s back, right between her shoulderblades. Vidofnir howled in pain, a horrible keening sound, and red blood spattered over the carved relief. Aymeric snatched a bow from the nearest Temple Knight, and an arrow, and nocked it… as Vidofnir collapsed to the platform, her eyes closing. Aymeric loosed.
His aim was true, but Estinien reached out a hand swirling with dark crimson aether, and the arrow’s unerring flight simply vanished as it struck his hand. With horror, Aymeric saw the Eyes of Nidhogg… fused to Estinien’s right arm and left shoulder. They swivelled independently, before coming to rest on Aymeric. And then Estinien… no, Nidhogg jumped away again to where he had been before. Out of their reach; arrows were of no use, and what knight even among the Dragoon Corps would engage Estinien in single combat?
“Child of Dravania!” he bellowed. It was not Estinien’s voice, though it came from Estinien’s throat. “Art thou grown so forgetful that thou wouldst forsake kith and kin, and consort with the spawn of Thordan? That thou wouldst dare contemplate peace!”
Tam dragoon-jumped to the stage. “She’s not your daughter,” Aymeric heard him grumble as he ran to Vidofnir’s side. Behind Aymeric, the Warriors of Light pushed through the Temple Knights to the front, weapons drawn, ready to fight.
Nidhogg brandished the lance at them. “Hearken unto me, all of you! The final chorus is nigh, and all will be held to account! All will bathe in the flames of retribution! Till the coming of that day, look you on your sins and despair! For none shall ‘scape my wrath! None shall ‘scape my revenge!”
Tam jumped again, landing on the other gate tower from Nidhogg, preparing to jump to him, but Nidhogg spread his arms and rose into the air, that dark aether engulfing him – suddenly bulging out to become a huge black dragon, crowned with massive horns, and possessed of two crimson eyes that glared at them malevolently. For a moment, Aymeric feared that Nidhogg would attack then and there, and his hand went searching for another arrow. Tam tensed to spring.
But the great wyrm flapped his wings and flew away to the northwest.
Aymeric’s face felt like a mask, and he clenched the bow uselessly. He could not let on his feelings – not his grief for Estinien, nor his rage that Vidofnir had been slain under his care, his pain that everything he had reached for, fought for, nearly died for had been snatched away from him yet again, his sickening fear that everyone was now doomed to death. The crowd was now chanting “Death to Nidhogg!” over and over, but he hardly heard it.
“We shall live,” he whispered.
“She lives!” Lucia cried from Vidofnir’s side; Rinala, Aentfryn, and R’nyath were all channelling healing aether into the dragon’s wound. “Vidofnir, can you hear me? ‘Tis I, Lucia.”
Vidofnir’s eyes opened. “I hear thee, Lucia.” Her voice was weak and breathless.
Aymeric let out a breath. At least Vidofnir lived, contrary to his worst fears. Not only because it would have been utterly disastrous if an ambassador had been murdered at a peace conference, but also he wished no harm upon the beautiful creature who had saved a child of Ishgard, the first dragon who had spoken to him in friendliness. “How may we aid you?” Ishgardian chirurgeons were probably not going to be of much use, being completely unfamiliar with dragons.
Vidofnir raised her head. “The Warriors of Light have healed me enough. I have the strength to Teleport to Anyx Trine. My brethren shall care for me there.” And while he reached for an apology great enough to even begin to cover his failure, she vanished.
Aymeric felt anxiety settle in to his soul. What else should he have said and done? Did Hraesvelgr’s brood still wish for peace? Nidhogg’s strike had surely left Vidofnir alive to make an example of her to her kin – to threaten them into continuing the war.
But there was not time to contemplate now. Everyone was looking to him. The gathered people were still shouting in confusion. Order must be restored, steps must be taken. Preparations made yet again for war.
He gave orders, and the gathering dispersed. The Warriors of Light went back to join the Scions still down in the square, giving him worried looks as they went. Tacitly trying to support him. “And so the dream dies…”
“No,” Tam said calmly, who had not yet gone with the others, leaning against the wall. “This is the best thing that could have happened.”
Aymeric rounded on him, his breaking heart threatening to burst from his control. “How can you say so!?”
“Well, your people’s honour has been… besmirched, hasn’t it?” Tam said, still maddeningly calm. “An ambassador was wounded on your territory. Even those who still hate dragons can see how wrong that is, and their pride will be touched. After all, their pride is what’s holding them back. Except for the ones who lack all honour and reason, but you weren’t going to reach them ever anyway. As for the rest, they’ve seen that Nidhogg, specifically, is the enemy, not dragons in general. That’s a step up, isn’t it? Once they get over themselves, peace with dragons will be very doable.”
Aymeric’s anger was challenged by stunned horror. That Tam could be so cold-blooded… “Whence comes this contempt for Ishgard? I thought you were our ally.”
“I was only analyzing,” Tam said. “I hold no contempt for Ishgard. I just don’t care for it. It’s too much like the parts of my homeland that I dislike.” He unfolded himself from the wall. “But I don’t have to analyze anything for you if it bothers you.” He dropped off the edge of the platform and Aymeric saw him walk to join the other Scions; Alphinaud ran to him, speaking urgently.
Achiyo was looking at him. Even from this distance, he could see the worry on her face. There was nothing he could do to reassure her. He turned away. “Lucia. We return to Ishgard.” They had put off preparing for Nidhogg for far too long.
“Ser.”
Tam paced restlessly around the Intercessory at Camp Dragonhead until the door creaked open and Alphinaud appeared, bearing two steaming mugs. “Forgive me. That took longer than expected.”
Tam shrugged. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
Alphinaud set one mug down on the table near Tam and cupped the other gingerly, feeling its heat through his gloves. “It was not long ago that we sat here, you and I and the others, in our very own ‘Falling Snows’, as Lord Haurchefant called it. I still struggle to believe he is gone. And Ysayle too… I had such hopes for her…”
Tam restrained a sigh. Alphinaud sometimes took forever to get to his point. But it was important for the boy to express his words, just like it was important for him to have hot chocolate as he expressed them. “What did you want to talk about, Alphinaud?”
Alphinaud put the mug down without taking a sip and looked at him with sorrowful blue eyes, then away. “Master Matoya asked me what it was all for. Why we fight… and why we die. Were I still Commander of the Braves, I would doubtless have replied ‘For the future of Eorzea’, but I am not that man. Not anymore.” Tam blinked and Alphinaud quickly looked up at him. “I know I am less than an infant compared to you, you needn’t remind me.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Tam said, amused. “This time. Go on.”
“I needed a new answer. One that I could live with. And when I saw Estinien at the ceremony, I knew at last what it was.” He paused and went on in a lower voice. “I do not want to be a man who sacrifices his friends and family for a cause. I want to fight for Estinien – and I want to save him. When Nidhogg leads the Horde into battle, Ser Aymeric and his forces will do what they believe must be done. That is their choice to make. Yet even if Ser Aymeric is willing to forsake Estinien, I am not. We must fight for him, for he is our friend and ally. We may struggle, we may fail, but we must try.”
“Alphinaud…” Tam knew, on some level, that he was adrift. He didn’t bother thinking about it, but he knew he was. But the boy was pulling him back in. He didn’t know if he wanted to be pulled in. He would let it happen and decide later. For now there was a boy in need of guidance of the kind he had. And of kinds he did not. “Failure will mean death.”
Alphinaud frowned unhappily. “I know.”
There was a flicker of something inside Tam’s right eye. He had never had a friend in a situation like this. Though perhaps he might have been the one in a situation sort of vaguely like… no, on second thought, it wasn’t similar at all. He had died too quickly for that. If he had died. “Even trying could mean death. For more than just us. Aymeric would try to save him if he did not have a city hanging onto his coattails.”
Alphinaud looked down. “I know.”
“That’s why we aren’t a city, are we?” Tam said gently, and Alphinaud looked up.
“Yes,” he said, and smiled. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Tam said. “Or do – by not dying. If you can possibly help it.”
Alphinaud chuckled into his hot chocolate. “I shall endeavour to fulfill your request.”
His real request was that Alphinaud never get it in his damn fool head to try to save him. But that didn’t seem to be an issue yet.
Ishgard was rearming herself for war – since Nidhogg’s first death in the summer, Achiyo found a surprising amount of materiel had been dismantled. Certainly, the dragonkillers and Bertha cannons were still in their places and maintained, but as the people had experienced longer and longer stretches of days with no attacks, so quickly they had fallen into complacency.
Not so now. Everywhere she looked, everywhere she walked in the city, every day, folk were hurriedly shoring up defensive walls, polishing armour, sharpening weapons. She heard sounds of training and drilling from every quarter. Every face was grim and anxious. Artoirel told them something of it. “Nidhogg had already been preparing for his greatest assault when first you stopped him. He merely resumed what he had already begun, and we had not then much hope of facing him.”
Then she felt a little of how they must feel, sick in the stomach with the fear that everything would be lost. Previously, it had taken all eight of them and Estinien to slay Nidhogg… They had not now Estinien’s aid, and Nidhogg had twice the strength as before. They would not be able to return to the Aery. Tam had looked and found the skies about it thick with alert black dragons. All they could do was wait for the impending blow to fall upon them.
So it was a heart-stopping moment when Urianger called the Scions to tell them that Azys Lla was behaving strangely. There was no evidence yet that Zurvan, the last of the Warring Triad, was rousing, yet if he was… Achiyo conferred with Kekeniro and Aentfryn, and they determined it would be better to check it out than to be sorry that they had not. Ishgard was making ready for Nidhogg, not Zurvan.
So Achiyo made her way to the Congregation. “The Lord Commander is not to be disturbed,” said the guard at his office, not one whom she knew by name. “May I ask what it is that requires his personal attention?”
“The Warriors of Light have made plans that he must be made aware of,” she told him, and he nodded.
“Yes, of course, he will want to know. You may enter, Lady Kensaki.”
She entered quietly, closing the door carefully behind her, and stopped short as she turned to Aymeric’s desk. He was sitting slumped in his chair, his head in his hands, looking completely and utterly defeated. “…A-Aymeric-sama?”
He jumped, transforming back into his usual alertness and courtesy, but he was flustered and still shaken by whatever he had been wrestling with a moment before. “L-Lady Achiyo. Forgive me, I didn’t hear you enter. What can I do for you?”
Instead of telling him about their mission, she came closer to him. “What is wrong, Aymeric-sama? Will you tell me?” Though she could easily guess. “It is Nidhogg, isn’t it.”
He made a wan smile. “I do not wish to burden you…”
“Am I not your friend?” she said gently. He had said it enough times recently.
He blinked. “Yes. That’s true. You have become one of my closest friends. Then I suppose… if you insist.” He took a few moments more to compose himself, fiddling with a pen that had been on his desk, eyes drifting listlessly across the scattered reports and rosters. His eyes were so tired; normally they were half-closed in a deliberate show of calm, but now they were heavy-lidded with exhaustion, and she thought she saw traces of make-up to hide dark circles. “…It… is painful… to think that no matter what I do, my city is doomed. We all knew it for a long time, but… it is so certain now, now that he has regained his full strength. And yet I must lead them to struggle against the inevitable. The High Houses share this responsibility and yet even they are looking to me in this hour, for with no Archbishop… And what can I do against… this?” He shook his head. “It’s a wonder my hair has not turned grey.”
His hair was still dark as night, and she had never been so tempted to touch someone’s hair before, looking so thick and smooth as it did, with the little wave in it at the ends. She smiled in sympathy. “Sometimes I wonder if mine has begun and I simply cannot tell.”
“You are beautiful either way,” he said, but went on before she had time to react. “At least, if I fight from the front, I will be dead before I see everyone else die… Perhaps I can protect you that way…”
She stepped forward, so quickly he jumped again and dropped his pen. But her voice was soft and plaintive. “I would you were not so quick to pledge your death, even in the service of others. And I think Lucia would have some sharp words for you, were she here.” She had to take a moment herself to think. How could she support Aymeric under this unbearable burden? “You of all people cannot die here. Your steadfast courage, your honour and integrity, your boundless compassion are too rare and precious to sacrifice. I know you are weary to death of this threat and its weight that crushes you, but we need you. Your people, the world will always need people like you.”
“You and Lucia…” He would not meet her eyes. “I hear your words, and yet… I cannot let either of you perish in Ishgard’s plight. You are needed too, your courage and honour are precious too. You are not of Ishgard, yet you have already risked all for her. It seems unfair that you should risk all again…”
“Lucia is sworn to your service heart and soul,” she said. “She will not accept your intention. I am not sworn to Ishgard, and yet…” How to say that dying for his sake sounded like far from the worst fate that could befall her? “My friends gave me something to fight for, a purpose, a meaning, yet Ishgard gave me back my conviction, my hope, my heart. I would gladly risk everything I have for you and count my life but a small price to pay for everything you have given me.”
Yet he grew more pale at her words. “No, Lady Achiyo, I cannot allow that. If you or Lucia should die yet I live… I could not bear it.”
How much did he think she could bear his death!? “You’ve been so alone this whole time,” she whispered, almost to herself. “So few to share your troubles with.” He certainly hadn’t shared them with her, despite naming her a friend, not until now when she had surprised him. She… could relate, she was still getting used to talking to mostly Chuchupa about things that troubled her personally. She had never had many people to talk to before, and being open with them was a struggle. But she had been gaining friends, and he’d lost so many.
She had to change his feelings. She put her hands on the desk and leaned forward, trying to give him her conviction. “You have spoken from your heart, now let me speak from mine: I do not believe either of us must die. We need not quarrel over who may sacrifice to protect the other at all. I believe we can fight, and win, and live. We’ll save everyone we can, including each other. We must. No more despair. Together, we can do anything.”
He looked up at her, tired blue eyes widening with a shocked inhalation, but she hardly noticed in her drive to convince him. “A-Achiyo,” he murmured, and then she realized how close she was, how amazed he looked, and pulled back, trying not to blush – there was her name without honorific again, and it made her heart tremble. “I… I believe you,” he said. “Together, then.” He stood, and smiled, and there was light in his smile again. “Thank you. You never waver.”
“Ishgard gave me hope like I’ve never had before,” she said. “I’m only glad that I can return some of it to you.”
He seemed to recall something. “I apologize, I have spent this entire time speaking of myself-”
“The fault is mine,” she murmured.
“-but you did not come here for that, I’m certain.”
“I wanted to inform you that Azys Lla has given strange signs, and the Warriors of Light shall be going to ensure there is no threat from that quarter, one way or another. We shall be back as soon as we may. Ishgard is our first priority.” She couldn’t help adding: “Do take care of yourself. You look so tired.”
“I understand,” he said with a rueful smile. “I… will try to delegate more. Lucia has been advising me to, and yet… it is difficult. I thank you for coming by. May the Fury watch over you.”
“By all the spirits,” Tam said from next to the Congregation’s front door when she exited, and she jumped. “Will you two stop trying to die for each other? It’s a bit ridiculous.”
She ignored him, pondering the memories she had made in that interview without thinking about it at the time – how beautiful Aymeric was when he was unguarded, vulnerable. The way he’d looked at her when she rekindled his hope. Lucia loved him, and Achiyo would not come between them, yet… she could still appreciate and treasure these moments.
Azys Lla was as inscrutable as ever, and Achiyo had little to do besides wait for the experts – Y’shtola, Urianger, Kekeniro, Krile, and Aentfryn – to figure out what was wrong. R’nyath had begged leave to help them, curious as he now was about Allagan magicks. Vivienne was late, so it was just Achiyo, Rinala, Tam, and Chuchupa who sat in the entrance to Zurvan’s prison, waiting to hear what might transpire.
There was a shift in the aether, a silent jolt so strong that even Achiyo and Chuchupa felt it, and as for Rinala, she jumped straight up from where she had been sitting, her tail all fluffed up. “What was that?”
“It was not from the Flagship, I think,” Achiyo said, laying her hand to the metal wall. “But I am no expert.”
“No, I agree,” Rinala said, and put a hand to her ear, to her linkpearl. “Kekeniro, do you know what that might have been? …From the haven?”
Achiyo got up and jogged out of the antechamber, out to the edge of the Flagship, scanning the rest of Azys Lla for-
There was a flock of horrifying monsters en route to the haven, where a scarlet light burned piercingly before fading into nothing. “We must return, quickly.” She started a Teleport, but even travelling through the Lifestream, the monsters would arrive there before they did.
She appeared at the haven as it was swarmed with lamias, carried on the backs of manticores; the lamias saw her and aimed at her with their bows. She raised her shield. “Chuchupa!”
“Right wi’ ye!” Chuchupa cackled, clanging her brassknuckles against each other. Behind them, Rinala cast Protect. “What do they want?”
“They are trying to reach that small platform,” Achiyo said, as the lamias arrows skipped and bounced around her and from her shield. “Mayhap we may hold the gap there.” The entrance was still quite wide, but better than being surrounded. “Kekeniro, we are under attack at the haven.”
“Understood,” Kekeniro said. “We’ll be there shortly. Vivienne, are you almost done whatever you’re doing?”
Over the linkshell, Vivienne gave a low chuckle. “Oh, I’m done.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” R’nyath asked, but Vivienne said no more.
Achiyo backed towards the small platform, dodging aetherial blasts from the manticores, as Chuchupa danced around behind the lamias, pummelling them, and Rinala cast Aero on them. Tam jumped and came down on a manticore, severing its wing and causing it to scream. And then black armour leaped past her, landing on a lamia and cutting it in half with one swing. “Vivienne?”
“What’s up, bitches!?” Vivienne shouted, swinging her greatsword in a huge arc that left scarlet afterimages and settling into a ready position. “Come and get it!”
Achiyo stared. “Vivienne… you…”
Vivienne grinned and slashed at a manticore with her new sword, ducked the answering snap of its jaws. “Isn’t he a beauty? Cleaves like a dream.”
A gunshot heralded R’nyath’s entry, and with so many combatants, the monsters were dispatched swiftly.
“Where’d ye get that?” Chuchupa asked, reaching out to pat Vivienne’s new sword.
Vivienne twirled it, then stuck it point down into the floor and leaned on it. “Rowena, in a round-about way. Remember? You helped me get started, because it involved our favourite pastime.”
“Right, violence.” Chuchupa nodded. “And this is what came of it? Thinkin’ I want one too.”
“Ardashir’s still there,” Vivienne said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. On the platform behind there was a man in rough clothing and a boy in fine clothing, and as Chuchupa looked appraisingly in his direction, the boy blanched. “Get Gerolt to make you an axe or something.”
Achiyo looked at the blade. It was a gleaming black, inlaid with glowing scarlet runes down the blade, across the guard, and even along the hilt. Magenta swirls of aether coiled around it, flickering like flames. “It looks very powerful.”
Vivienne nodded. “I’d been working on it for some time with Rowena’s contacts, but with the threat of Nidhogg… Well, I thought we could use some extra strength. So I stepped it up.” She grinned again. “When it’s really going, it changes colour to yellow. Just finished it just now. It made a bit of an aetherial pop when it did.”
“Oh, so that’s what we sensed,” Rinala said. “We felt it all the way from the Flagship. And I guess the monsters did too.”
“Not surprised,” Vivienne said. “He’s a good boy.”
“He?” Rinala asked uncertainly.
“It has a soul,” Vivienne said. “His name is Cronus. If you want the details, ask Ardashir.”
“I think I will,” Kekeniro said, who was checking the nearby computer terminal. “But that’s odd. The abnormal readings have stopped. Could your experiments have been affecting the Flagship?”
Vivienne frowned. “I doubt it. A lot of my part in the experiments was wandering around killing as many monsters as I could find, and the other part was visualizing all the primals we’ve fought in great detail so Cronus understands what I do.”
“Mayhap mine own interpretation of the readings was flawed,” Urianger said. “If thou wert engaged in this activity so intensely for the past two days, ‘twould do much to explain these peculiar affairs.”
“Does that mean no Zurvan?” Chuchupa complained.
“I believe that means no Zurvan,” Krile said. “Don’t look so disappointed, Chuchupa. The longer he sleeps, the better for us.”
“I just hope he doesn’t awaken at the same time that Nidhogg attacks,” said R’nyath. “Anyway, you guys will keep an eye on everything, right?”
“Rest thee assured that we shall,” said Urianger. “Thou mayst return with peace of mind to Ishgard.”
A sennight later, Aymeric sent for the Warriors of Light and Alphinaud. He had a plan. A desperate plan, but a plan nonetheless. And for it to succeed, he needed at least one of the Warriors of Light and Alphinaud, for they were the ones who had the experience he was looking for.
All nine of them assembled in his office, which was gratifying; he had not expected that, not after they seemed to have been having some issues earlier in the season. Lucia was at his side, in full knowledge of his schemes; indeed, they had had several arguments over the preceding week about whether he was mad or not for having them. “My friends,” he said to them. “I thank you for coming.”
“You have had news of Nidhogg?” Alphinaud asked eagerly.
He shook his head. “Alas, not. Our scouts range far and wide, but they have as yet found no trace of the great wyrm.”
“We dispatched an elite unit of dragoons to reconnoitre the Churning Mists, but even they returned empty-handed,” Lucia said. If Nidhogg had yet again taken up residence in the Aery, he was not to be seen openly, only clouds of dragons.
“A pity…” Alphinaud said.
“Fear not, Alphinaud,” Aymeric said grimly, “we shall see the wyrm again soon enough. His words at Falcon’s Nest attest to that. Indeed, he is like to come sooner than we would wish.”
“We have seen the work done to bolster Ishgard’s defences,” Achiyo said.
“Aye, with all haste,” he said. “I mean to call upon every able-bodied warrior at our disposal, from the knights of the four Houses to the men and women of the Watch. But I did not summon you to discuss strategy.” If they wished to be apprised of the city’s state of readiness, he could certainly tell them, but it was his responsibility, not theirs.
Alphinaud frowned. “What then would you have of us, my lord?”
“I will speak plain: now that Nidhogg is possessed of both of his eyes, no mortal force we can muster will repel him.” That was the main reason why he had not reached out again to the Eorzean Alliance. It was futile. When he had reached out the first time, he’d had hope of survival. Now he did not, and he would not drag other nations into the slaughter. …The other reason was that, if Estinien could be saved, he would not risk an outsider killing him first. Or, if Estinien could not be saved, he would wish for his friend to be slain by his own hand rather than that of a stranger. He thought Estinien might want that. “That being the case, we must needs recruit an ally of equal strength…”
Alphinaud put his head on one side, thinking. “You speak of Hraesvelgr!?”
“Oh, right, Hraesvelgr,” R’nyath said. “Forgot about him.”
Aymeric nodded. “I do. To whom else could we turn?”
“That he is Nidhogg’s equal I do not deny,” Alphinaud said. “Nor can I name another. But convincing the reclusive creature to do battle with his own brood-brother will be… How shall I put this?”
“Impossible,” Vivienne said bluntly.
Aymeric lowered his gaze. “It will be no small undertaking, yes. Estinien’s report was most particular about Hraesvelgr’s unwillingness to involve himself in the affairs of mortals.” He closed his eyes against the painful, aching sliver of hope in his heart. “But much has changed since your visit to Sohm Al, and if there is even a chance that the dragon may be swayed, I must plead our case. Whatever price the dragon asks of me, I shall pay it – such was my oath to defend the people of Ishgard.” This was not something he could entrust to someone else. As acting leader of his people, he must take responsibility for them all, in person.
He raised his head again, and did not miss that Achiyo was looking at him suspiciously – worried that he had not taken her encouragement to heart. “Come what may, my friends, the battle with Nidhogg will mark the end of my tenure as the acting head of church and state. Will you help me discharge this final duty?” He had taken her words to heart. That was why he was trying this nigh-hopeless endeavour in the first place. But he also needed to be a realist. -Though if he survived both Hraesvelgr and Nidhogg, he was looking forward to stepping down and returning to simply commanding the Temple Knights.
The Warriors of Light read the double meaning in his words easily, and there were a lot of anxious looks between them. Alphinaud, Rinala, R’nyath, and Kekeniro looked quite distressed. Tam continued to lean against the wall impassively; Aentfryn too simply looked at him. Chuchupa and Vivienne actually looked angry. He… he was so fond of all of them. And Achiyo… she controlled it well; he considered it a sign that he was coming to know her well that he could see it at all, but she was pained by his words.
Alphinaud was the first to speak openly. “We will, my lord – though I fear our involvement offers no guarantee of success. Come, then – we will depart at your leisure.”
He did not smile; it was too serious for that. But he was grateful. “Thank you. All of you.” He turned to Lucia. “The city is yours, First Commander.” As agreed upon.
Lucia saluted him with beautiful precision, locking eyes with him. “My lord. We shall pray for your swift return.” He nodded to her. She watched them all leave, standing alone in his office, and he prayed that he would see her again.
They walked swiftly to the aetheryte plaza. “It grieves me to impose upon you in this manner, but you of all people understand the threat we now face,” Aymeric said as they went.
“It is no imposition, Ser Aymeric,” Alphinaud assured him. “To many of us, including me, Ishgard is as a second home. After the many battles we have fought and the bonds we have forged, the plight of your nation has become our own. If there is aught that we can do to aid in its salvation, then pray impose all you must.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “You are true friends…”
Aymeric had been, in past years, as far afield as Tailfeather, and still had the aetheryte there attuned, so that was where they started. From thence they rode their chocobos – and other things – to Anyx Trine.
He tried to take it all in – the beauty of the unfamiliar land rising to the magnificent floating volcano-peak, the sights the Warriors of Light pointed out to him with hints of their adventures in their words, the fact that he was finally on a quest with those he had most wished to quest with since he had met them… but his heart was cold and it dampened any joy he might have had in their journey. The first time he felt his heart lift was when they came right up to the great tower of Anyx Trine, and were welcomed – or ignored – by dozens of white and silver dragons. Lucia’s report had described the place in detail, but her words had failed to convey the overwhelming strangeness of standing in the demesne of dragons. He even saw baby dragons – hatchlings? cubs? – and was momentarily enchanted by their playfulness, their curiosity.
And to think that until just recently his people would have murdered such darling children and thought it good and just – and then he was cold again. The fact that such days were hopefully behind them all was still too new to be a comfort in that moment.
Vidofnir lay in a corner of a large upper room of the tower. Aymeric was greatly relieved to see her sitting up, looking about with alertness; if he did not know she had been wounded, he would not have guessed it from looking at her now. The Warriors of Light unerringly made their way to her as though they had visited many times before, and Alphinaud bowed before the white dragon.
“Pray forgive us for disturbing your recuperation, Vidofnir. I hope your wound does not pain you overmuch…”
Vidofnir gave a deep low chuckle. “Didst thou imagine me close to death? The thrust was deep, but not mortal. I will heal in time.”
“Full glad am I to hear it,” Aymeric said, saying what he should have said before. “You were the guest of honour at our conference, and we failed in our duty of protection. On behalf of Ishgard, I apologize unreservedly.”
She stared at him and he got the sense it was with disbelieving amusement. Maybe with a touch of insult. “…I am a dragon full-grown, and thou thought to protect me, mortal? I was tempered by the fires of battle ere thy great-grandsire learned to crawl.” Her gaze grew distant. “Thy words do remind me of a knight whom I called friend some thousand years past. He swore to defend me from harm and hardship…”
That was an honour he had not been expecting. “Would that we could return to that era of peace, when man and dragon knew such comradeship.”
Alphinaud sighed. “Would that our every effort to do so were not undone by ancient rancor…”
“For a truth, there can be no peace while Nidhogg’s shade yet lingereth,” Vidofnir said.
“That much is plain – yet we lack the strength to banish him,” Alphinaud said. “Thus do we make for Sohm Al, to beseech the aid of your sire once more.”
Vidofnir let out a smoky snort. “Folly. Thou know’st as well as I how he will answer.”
“…Hraesvelgr’s heart remains unchanged, then. A pity. But if it is folly to hope, I am content to die a fool.” He had expected as much, but he could not turn back.
Vidofnir’s gaze upon him was… sympathetic? “As has ever been the way with thy kind. Go then, but be warned: the shade’s presence hath driven its minions to frenzy.”
They bowed to her again. “Thank you, Vidofnir,” said Alphinaud. “We shall disturb your rest no longer.”
“I do not think we should climb Sohm Al in the dark,” Achiyo said. “Certainly not if Nidhogg’s minions control the peak as they did before. Let us rest here for the night and then make our way to Zenith tomorrow.”
“Where shall we stay?” Alphinaud asked.
“This way,” Tam said, and led them to a set of rooms in the tower that were Elezen-sized. They were bare, and freezing, but there was a fireplace in the back with the remains of a fire not more than a moon old. Better than camping outside.
Vivienne looked at the remains of the fire, then at Tam. “How often do you stay here?”
“Every once in a while, when I feel like visiting Aarckhemlen,” Tam said.
“Is that a place from your homeland,” R’nyath asked in a long-suffering voice.
“Isn’t it?” Tam said, sounding confused as he began to set up a new fire. “Where the dragons are?”
Aymeric peered at him. “Are you well?”
“Perfectly well,” Tam said, and blinked as he looked at Aymeric. “Strange. You… are you.”
“…Should I not be?” Aymeric inquired.
“Hello, this is Tam Salmaiire, he’s from another dimension or some nonsense, and is very irritating about it,” Vivienne said, gesturing dramatically to the dragoon, who grinned. “We’re not advertising it, even though sometimes he confuses here with there somehow. No need for Eorzea to know it’s been invaded by otherworldly aliens. We get that enough with voidsent.”
“You’re not like anyone from my homeland,” Tam explained. He did not look like an otherworldly alien. But if they were not pulling his leg, that… explained a lot. “No one is as… pure as you are. As perfect. My prince’s father might come close, but you don’t… overlap.”
“I am hardly perfect,” Aymeric said in a low voice, setting up his bedroll between the others. “I have made more mistakes than I can count in reaching this point.”
“Haven’t we all?” Tam said. “And yet despite your responsibilities and life experience, you’re still more idealistic than everyone else here excepting our kitten, and she’s not old enough to know any better.” Rinala shot him an offended look.
Aymeric did not know how to respond to that and stopped trying. Some of the others who wore armour were removing it, and he did the same, shedding the bulky pauldrons, heavy mail and greaves. The fire was drawing a strong draft, at least until Tam went out and dragged the remains of the wooden door closed; then the room began to warm a little. Rinala and R’nyath began to prepare food, slicing cold meats and vegetables and putting them in a pan to heat by the fire.
He had not seen Achiyo out of armour since that party moons ago, and she probably had never seen him out of armour in all their time together. But this was not like the party. It was… more real, somehow – huddling around a fire on a cold Dravanian winter night, ten people on a desperate mission. It reminded him of his days as a new knight recruit, a decade ago.
She was beautiful, but she was always beautiful – the firelight playing on her hair, casting a warm light onto the scales of her cheeks, and she sat with her arms around her knees and her lithe tail curled at her side. It did not twitch like a Miqo’te tail. Without armour she looked even smaller. Her delicacy belied her strength.
“Do you want to hear stories of our adventures?” R’nyath asked, into the strangely subdued air. “Seems like a good chance.”
Aymeric shifted and tried to breathe out his tension. “I fear I have not the heart for it now. Mistake me not – I am truly glad to be here with you all! I have wished to travel with you since we met. But I cannot enjoy it as I ought…”
“No worries,” R’nyath said. “I get it.” He looked around at the grim faces staring into the fire. “We’ve all got a lot of heavy stuff going on right now.”
“Wondering if someone else might die in the near future,” Tam said bluntly. “It’s not entirely due to luck that we’re all still alive, but anyone else might say it’s extremely improbable that all of us have lived this long doing the things we’ve been doing.”
“I don’t believe you’re supposed to say that out loud,” Alphinaud said to him, and he shrugged.
“I do not wish for any of you to die!” Aymeric said, and got to his feet. Achiyo had said she believed they would all live, but did they believe it themselves? “You each have so much to live for-”
“And you don’t?” Vivienne challenged him. “It’s not like any of us have a death wish. But we’d be heartless cowards to leave you to the dragon. That’s what I got this for.” She patted her sinister new greatsword.
“And if we do die, that’s just how fate will have turned,” Aentfryn said. “We have to accept that possibility and move past it.”
“Oh, c’mon,” Chuchupa said, putting her hands on her hips. “We beat Bahamut, and this bugger don’t have Megaflare or whatever! I mean, he didn’t use it against us last time!”
“That doesn’t mean a lot,” Kekeniro said. “Maybe he didn’t have the strength to do it with only one eye. You can rest assured I’ll guide you through the battle as best I can.”
“I’m scared,” Rinala said, poking the vegetables. “I’m terrified. But if I went home… I can’t go home without trying.” And she was, with Alphinaud, one of the youngest, the ones he would most wish to be safely out of this.
“We will live,” Achiyo said, her clear, lightly-accented voice cutting through the fear. “Yes, the chance is great that we will not. But our strength is in each other. We must believe, we must commit, and we shall overcome this as we have overcome all else that we faced together.”
“Maybe food will help,” Rinala said, and it was true that the scents of roasting meats and vegetables was reminding him it had been a long time since he had eaten. She scooped out spoonfuls onto rolls of bread and handed them out.
Food did help. He knew it would, and blessed her for her wisdom. “I apologize, I have been…”
“Sh sh sh,” Chuchupa scolded him. “Ye’re with us, ye’re one of us. No shame in admittin’ the kraken’s a scary bugger when ye’re among friends.”
It really was like being among the rank and file again, bad language and all. He had missed this camaraderie so badly. And with Haurchefant and Estinien gone…
“Anyway, I sent a letter to my parents,” Rinala said. “I remembered this time.”
“I left one with F’lhaminn to be delivered only in the worst case,” Alphinaud said.
“Shite, I did not,” Vivienne said.
“Send one wi’ the moogles at the top o’ the mountain,” Chuchupa said.
“And have it delivered next century to my brother’s great-grandchildren? I think not.”
“Give them a kupo nut, that will give them incentive,” Tam said.
“You think I have a bleeding kupo-” Vivienne began to retort, then caught a small brown orb out of the air as Tam tossed it at her. “Fine. I’ll owe you for that then, you bastard.”
R’nyath had scarfed down his food remarkably quickly, and produced a guitar from somewhere. “I’ll sing, then. If no one minds. I want to.” He looked at Vivienne and Aentfryn, who gestured and shrugged that he could begin.
The guitar’s gentle picking filled the room, and the bard sang just above a whisper. “Beneath the gazing stars… Vales deep and forests dark… Betrayed by loyal hands, Her wrath stirred. Bound fast unto our fate, one path, one burden great, yet ever do our aching souls point Heavensward. Ever rings out our song… Yes, ever do our aching souls march Heavensward as they’ve done for so long…”
“A little gloomy,” Kekeniro said. “Lovely, but gloomy. I know no one’s feeling very upbeat tonight, but…”
Aymeric had found it entirely, heartbreakingly appropriate, but he did not say so.
R’nyath smiled a little. “Very well. Something lighter, then.” He looked up to the ceiling, never stopping his playing, but the key changed and he began to sing again. “Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed. Some say love, it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed. Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need. I say love, it is a flower, and you its only seed.”
The worry over the future was slipping away, carried away in the simple tune. R’nyath’s voice was so heartfelt, even soft as it was. “It’s the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance. It’s the dream afraid of waking, that never takes the chance. It’s the one who won’t be taken who cannot seem to give. And the soul afraid of dying, that never learns to live.”
Aymeric could not help looking at Achiyo. She glanced at him, and for a moment he was transfixed by her eyes, before she gave him a soft smile that told him nothing and looked back into the fire. Beside her, Rinala wrapped herself in her bedroll and snuggled down contentedly.
“When the night has been too lonely, and the road has been too long, and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong, just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snows lies the seed that with the sun’s love, in the spring, becomes the rose.”