So I might not have the spoons to play the actual game FFXIV right now, but I still have the spoons to consume content! So I finally read the Chronicles of Light and omg I love it (e.g. kicking my feet in excitement whenever Alisaie says something sassy). One thing I like is that since the stories often don’t reference any specific place, it’s easy to know and accept that Eorzea is far larger than the maps we get in-game (I’ve always known/had the opinion that game maps are miniature approximations of what reality could be, and there are many good reasons for doing that instead of trying to Log Horizon it and making humongous maps, but like Eorzea’s supposed to be the size of like Europe, isn’t it? So if you compare travel times across my chapters I’m sure they’re wildly inconsistent and that does bother me a little). I’d like to incorporate that more into my fic, but I’m so literal that it’s difficult for me to extrapolate. I also finally watched the Noclip documentary, and wow – I knew the overall story of 2.0’s creation, but I have even more respect for the team now.
Lol I don’t do mods but I appreciate the fact that this one exists (changes the collar of the Alpine Coat from a ruff to a stiff collar, much sexier on Aymeric.) Also I heard there’s a VR mod for FFXIV, I need a VR headset now lol. I’ve always wanted to be totally immersed in this world!
(Been watching Honkai Star Rail videos and taking inspiration from those flamboyant anime fight scenes lol)
No new armour for Achiyo, still using level 40 mithril set. I really like it. (She does wear a helmet now tho)
Chapter 42: So Much for Retirement
Chapter 43: The Demon of Meracydia
R’nyath prowled through the back alleys of the Jewelled Crozier one evening, hunting senses fully alert, yellow eyes gleaming. Behind him stalked Vivienne, an ominous brooding shadow, surprisingly soft despite her heavy armour and indelicate tread.
He didn’t have to hunt. His target was sure to be exactly where he expected him to be. But his instincts said to, and it was more fun that way. He really wished that he hadn’t had cause to do this, though.
He spotted the merchant in question, heading to the tavern from his stall, and bounded in front of him. “Theodulf Kantor, right?”
The Hyur jumped, then relaxed with a smile. “Oh, you’re Master R’nyath Tia, aren’t you? One of the Warriors of Light? What can I do for you?”
R’nyath cursed in his head. This would have been easier if the guy wasn’t perfectly nice when he was in a good mood. But he had proof that he was a villain in a bad mood. “I want to talk to you about the first Dravanian-Ishgard peace conference. The bad one.”
The man’s face fell, then he suddenly blanched. “Wait – you couldn’t-”
“I suggest not running,” Vivienne said from right behind him, and the man jumped about a fulm in the air. “R’nyath could catch you easily even if I didn’t bother.”
“S-so you… How did you find out?” the man said, edging forward away from Vivienne. Vivienne kept pace with him.
“The airship attendant, even if she didn’t help Honoroit for fear of her own safety, did remember you as she flew you lot back to Ishgard,” R’nyath growled. “How could you do such a thing? To a child!?”
“W-well he shouldn’t have gotten in my way like that, pestering me!” exclaimed the man, shades of the blind rage he must have shown then peering through. “And for the sake of his entitled, brutal, nincompoop of a master! How dare he!? How dare… uh… you…”
“Honoroit is the politest kid I know,” R’nyath said, leaning in. He was shorter than the man, but he figured his slitted eyes and folded-back ears could be intimidating enough to make up for it. The man leaned away and Vivienne put a heavy hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. “I know you must have been upset after the things that occurred that day. I know Emmanellain took his responsibility and dumped it in the latrine. None of that could ever, in a million years, excuse what you did to that sweet boy.”
“He didn’t fight back, did he?” Vivienne hissed. “A brute and a bully. My favourite.”
“I’m s-s-sorry,” said the man with a gulp. “What can I do? What revenge will you take?”
R’nyath stepped away. “I want your oath, on the Fury, that you’ll never raise your hand to a child again, except in the unlikely case of self-defence, and absolutely never in anger.” He wanted to slap the man with claws out, but that would only satisfy his own ego. “Maybe go apologize to Honoroit. I don’t know if it will do him any good. If he even wants that. But it might bring him closure. Of course, forgiving you is up to him.” Honoroit would probably forgive him. He was so idealistic. The guy probably ran the risk of Emmanellain – or even Artoirel – having him arrested if he did that, though.
“I swear, by the Fury, I’ll never raise my hand in anger again,” the man said, his hand on his heart, sweating. “I swear it. Not to a child, not to a one fully grown, not to the aged. I swear.”
“Good,” R’nyath said, and felt a little bit of tension inside him uncoil.
“I just want to break a couple of your ribs in payback,” Vivienne said, and punched him in the gut with her mailed fist. “I’ll pay for the chirurgeon. But I want you to know something of what that kid felt at your hands.”
The man groaned and wailed, clutching his side. “Have mercy…”
“I did,” Vivienne said in snarling exasperation. “This is my mercy, that I have not killed you for beating a child to unconsciousness and then leaving him to freeze to death on the cold stones in a sodding snowstorm. Achiyo would have had you dragged before a tribunal – and then wouldn’t you be hanged for attempted murder? You are very, very lucky.”
“Oh…”
Vivienne flung a coinpurse at him to hit the point she had struck, and the man groaned again. “Go see a bloody chirurgeon – and then never let me see your face again.”
R’nyath sauntered out from the alley and into the main market, arms behind his head, not exactly… happy, with the outcome, but with a feeling that it had to be done. Of the people whom he had managed to identify as Honoroit’s assailants, two had died in Nidhogg’s attack, and the other one had already made amends of sorts. None of them had had a connection to each other, they had just been violent-hearted, discontented men who happened to leave the conference at the same time.
And hey, he felt something like justice had been accomplished, and the Dark Knight had been held in check. He let out a breath and began to whistle one of the tunes he’d learned from Alexander.
“Oh, hi, R’nyath,” said a voice from behind and below him, and he turned to see Kekeniro, Aentfryn, and Briardien, looking a bit subdued. “What brings you here?”
“Uhhhhh justice,” R’nyath said, not really wanting to get into it.
“For Honoroit,” Vivienne put in, flexing her punching fingers, and Kekeniro smiled and Aentfryn nodded approvingly. “And you lot? It has been a while, Briardien.”
“That it has,” Briardien said. “I am up to date on your exploits, naturally; allow me to congratulate you on all you have accomplished.”
“Thanks,” R’nyath said. “But why do you look so melancholy?”
Kekeniro gestured back up the steep road towards the Scholasticate. “The past is still causing pain and strife. We managed to keep the worst of it from landing, but it was still upsetting for everyone.”
“The Archbishops kept prisoners whose sole duty was to know the truth of the Dragonsong War,” Aentfryn said. “Low-born orphans who could be abducted without trace. A survivor of this system sought revenge upon the church, and targeted the students to shut down the Scholasticate.”
“That’s vile beyond words,” Vivienne said, tensing up. “Not one of them across a thousand years found this against his morals?”
“Didn’t the Archbishop say in an Echo that he had wanted Aymeric to succeed him someday – until his incurable idealism got in the way?” R’nyath asked. “I really can’t imagine even a crusty old Aymeric not doing something about that.” Though to be honest, he couldn’t imagine Aymeric as old or crusty. Achiyo was real lucky.
“Every Archbishop had to lead the nation in bitter warfare with all conviction,” Briardien said heavily. “If Ser Aymeric had someday become Archbishop, it would have been only because he had already come to believe the war was right and necessary regardless of truth and honour. At that point, those poor souls would have been a minor consideration.” He made a rueful smile. “Let us be glad that we have moved on, and will attempt anew to make a better society.”
“And the students are moving on too,” Kekeniro said, nodding. “They’ve pledged to work together, no matter their birth, using their different skills to further their cause.”
“Like we do!” R’nyath said cheerfully.
“Ye-” Briardien cut off suddenly. “Godsdammit.” Kekeniro’s eyes widened and they both stared behind R’nyath.
“I’m leaving,” Vivienne said. “Goodbye. Tell me what happens later – out of morbid curiosity.”
“Huh?” R’nyath looked around, why were they acting so- “Hi, Hildibrand!”
Hildibrand Helidor Maximilian Manderville strode up, followed closely by his assistant Nashu, and Achiyo and Chuchupa, Hildibrand’s mother Julyan, and a cute blond Hyuran man R’nyath did not know. And a mammet dressed as a black mage. “Well met, my friends! Truly, what fortune to meet my beloved fans once more!”
“No,” said Aentfryn flatly.
Achiyo looked utterly frazzled; R’nyath had never seen her look mentally concussed before. She hurried up to R’nyath and said in an undertone: “And he was always like this?”
“Yep,” R’nyath said, not bothering to keep his voice down. Hildibrand’s hearing was far too selective to be insulted so easily. “I didn’t know you had taken up with him.”
“Manderville,” Briardien said coldly. “I see not even the Holy See can escape your presence.”
“We have only found him a few days ago,” Achiyo said. “Kami help me, what is a gazebo, and why do they think it is an animal?”
“I guess it sounds enough like ‘gazelle’ that people mix them up. It’s a fancy garden shelter, I think. Enjoying it?”
“I don’t know!” Achiyo looked around to find Hildibrand posing. “Help me!”
“You’re doing fine,” he said, grinning. “Everyone’s still alive, right? Just relax and accept the weirdness. It’ll work out. Somehow.”
“So… Uh, I hesitate to ask, but what are you up to?” Kekeniro asked.
“Behold ye this wee child!” Chuchupa proclaimed, gesturing to the mammet. “This is Hildy’s adopted son/daughter/non-gendered offspring Gigi, our newest Inspector Extraordinaire!” She, Nashu, and Hildibrand posed dramatically behind the mammet, who simply stood, staring at them blankly. Julyan rubbed the bridge of her nose, the blond man buried his face in his hands, and Achiyo sighed.
“This is Cyr,” Achiyo said, gesturing to the man. “He is of the Inquisitors, and is keeping an eye upon Hildibrand while he has business within Coerthas.”
“One eye is not enough for this illogical, farcical nonsense,” Cyr muttered. “And yet apparently he has not done anything heretical-seeming that cannot be explained by other means… I wish he’d get on with it.”
“Only this moment have we been engaged upon a mission of utmost importance!” declared Hildibrand. “Some foul miscreant has been preying upon the young women of Ishgard – inviting them to parties at which they are led to believe they might meet certain knights of the Heavens’ Ward. ‘Tis said that their experience left them instead traumatized beyond belief!”
“I’m hopin’ it’s zombies,” Chuchupa said, nodding. “I could stand to beat up the Heavens’ Ward again.”
“I was hoping it would keep him out of trouble,” Cyr groaned. “Wait, ‘again’?”
“I’m just here to keep an eye on my boy,” Julyan said, hefting her frying pan meaningfully.
“You have not heard aught of this, have you?” Hildibrand pressed them.
“Not a word,” Kekeniro said. “Well that does sound interesting – but I’m afraid we, uh, have our own case. Best of luck, though!”
“You’re stuck with him now,” Aentfryn said to Achiyo. “Now you can share in our suffering last year.”
Achiyo had not utterly lost her composure, but R’nyath could tell she was struggling. “But… But he…”
“He’s great fun, is what,” Chuchupa told her. “Count Edmont don’t seem to have trouble with him, no?”
Achiyo gave up. “Count Edmont is a true… gentleman.”
“Well said!” Hildibrand cried. “So he is. A gentleman always recognizes his own kind. Is that not so, Gigi?”
“I sTiLl Do NoT kNoW wHaT mAkEs A gEnTlEmAn, PaPa HiLdY,” said the mammet.
“Thancred said it’s clothes, once,” Chuchupa said. “But that can’t be right, else Emmanellain’d be a gen’leman.”
“I don’t think Thancred is a gentleman either,” Aentfryn said dismissively. “I- excuse us.”
R’nyath’s linkpearl began going off – and so did the ones of the other Warriors of Light. It was the Scions’ linkshell, and it was Krile. “I’m afraid we have a situation on Azys Lla. Zurvan’s worshippers have escaped containment somehow, and they’re beginning to release him. We need all of you as soon as possible!”
“We shall be there with all haste,” Achiyo said. “Tam, Rinala, are you there?”
“Sure,” Tam said, his voice fuzzy, as if he was just on the edge of pearl range. “I’ll pick up the kitten before we come to you.”
“Trouble?” asked Briardien, his cold eyes sharp behind his glasses.
“Yep, same old, same old,” R’nyath said. “Sorry, guys, we gotta go.”
“An investigation even more vital than our own?” Hildibrand cried. “Why, it seems that we-”
“Should do our own thing, and let them handle theirs,” Julyan said firmly, and Cyr breathed a sigh of relief. “Good luck, you lot.”
“Thank you,” Achiyo said, with a polite bow. “And to you.” More quickly than normal, she began a Teleport to Azys Lla, and everyone followed her.
“I’m sorry I didn’t quite believe you last year,” Achiyo said to Vivienne’s team as they met at the Azys Lla aetheryte plaza in the deepening gloom of twilight. “Hildibrand Manderville is… indescribable. A child in a man’s body. Whoever said he was less sane than Yllamse… was unkind, but apt.”
“I don’t know what ye’re bitchin’ for,” Chuchupa said. “I like ‘im.”
“I… don’t dislike him,” Achiyo said, as they summoned their chocobos. “But I… cannot comprehend him. I am not clever enough for this.” She wanted to laugh. She wanted desperately to laugh. His antics were hilarious even when they made her uncomfortable – which they frequently did. But that would be unkind. And possibly undignified.
Chuchupa did not share her concerns in the slightest. “Ye don’t have to comprehend ‘im. Just laugh at him. Oi, Rinala, ye should come with us! Ye’re missin’ out on some great fun.”
“Um, okay?” Rinala said. Achiyo had nudged her to visit her parents for a couple weeks, and she seemed to be looking a little better. Whether it was the sun or the family, Achiyo was not sure, but she would not question it. “That’s the person Vivienne’s group was helping last year?”
“Don’t remind me,” Vivienne said. “Let’s focus now. Achiyo, you should call Krile back.”
They met at a new antechamber on the top of the huge structure, where Krile, Urianger, Y’shtola, and Unukalhai awaited them anxiously. The door leading inside, which must have been locked and barred like the others, stood open. “Thank goodness you’re here!” Krile exclaimed as they ran up. “The facility has been swarmed by Imperial troops!”
“Why?” Vivienne said.
“Once more doth Regula van Hydrus stretch forth his hand to seize the forbidden fruits of Allag,” Unukalhai said. “And once more have our meticulous wards been swept aside like so many cobwebs…”
“Your meddlesome wards were destroyed from within by the pulsating energies of an eikon,” said a regal, artificially-modulated voice, and they looked to the door to see Regula van Hydrus himself striding out of it. Several Scions drew their weapons, but Regula did not, and so Achiyo refrained. The legatus folded his arms grimly. “Nay, put up your weapons and listen. The followers of Zurvan have awakened, and they toil to rouse their master!”
“I must question how they broke free in the first place,” Y’shtola said. “Could Sophia’s thralls have tampered with them as well upon their own escape?”
“They shared a common enemy,” Unukalhai said. “‘Tis not unthinkable that they would seek to free all those the Allagans had imprisoned.”
“Yes, yes, the cage doors are open,” Regula said impatiently. “And whilst you stand here quibbling over who picked the locks, my soldiers are inside the facility risking their lives and their sanity. They have volunteered to face death to prevent Zurvan’s servants from waking him in the fullness of his power. Now, assuming you have at last understood the gravity of the situation, it is time that I rejoined them.” He turned as if to go.
“But won’t ye be Tempered just goin’ near ‘im?” Chuchupa said, and Krile nodded.
“Thus did I seek out those with the power to resist his influence,” Regula said, half-turning back to them. “Aid us, and mayhap my men will not perish in vain.”
“…You propose an alliance,” Unukalhai said the obvious after a pause.
“And when we have won, what then?” Vivienne said. “Do we both retreat, to come to blows another time?”
Regula made a noise of disdain. “I have delved into the depths of this place and found its technology wanting. These mechanisms have failed to hold their prisoners, and such broken artifacts are unfit to bring before the Emperor. Twice have you bested me in combat. Will you now lend me that strength, and stand against our mutual foe?”
“‘Twas in opposing your reckless schemes that Ysayle was lost to us…” Y’shtola said, tail tip twitching angrily. “You expect us to simply forgive and forget all that has come before?”
“I expect you to put aside your emotions and use your better judgement,” Regula said sharply. “But, of course, I am dealing with savages. I will not stand here and justify the death of the ice maiden. We pursued our ideals, and you pursued yours – such was the result. And mayhap you might consider another point… In these endless clashes, we have all lost comrades dear to us! Yet I choose to put aside past grievances to beg your champions’ aid; to appeal to your reason.”
“Thou art willing to build a bridge of common purpose upon such tremulous foundations?” Urianger asked.
Regula nodded. “I will waste no more words. The hourglass drips with the blood of my soldiers.”
Achiyo stepped forward. He was right; there was no time to lose. “It appears you are loyal to your men. I will respect and honour that loyalty. I shall fight with you.”
“I’ll fight with anyone,” Chuchupa said.
Most of them quickly agreed – whether from enthusiasm, duty, or indifference in Tam’s case. Aentfryn was the only one who held back, for even Y’shtola capitulated, but as the rest of them had come to an agreement, he begrudgingly joined them as they hurried after Regula into the Flagship.
“I probably shouldn’t point out that the mechanisms held Zurvan’s Tempered imprisoned just fine for 5000 years,” Kekeniro muttered.
Regula heard him. “And now they have ceased to function. While they may bring the Empire some knowledge if further studied, they themselves can no longer be used. Thus are they useless to me.”
“Okay, okay,” Kekeniro said. “Uh, what do we know about Zurvan? Anything new?”
“He was worshipped by a race of Meracydian beastmen,” Unukalhai said. “A being of fire and ice, a monstrous being with a man’s head and body, an eagle’s wings, and the foreclaws and tail of a dragon. A god solely created for war.”
“Fire and ice, hm?” Kekeniro said. “And he can probably fly, then.”
“Sounds like a nice change from lasers,” Tam said.
They took the elevator, which led down… straight to Zurvan’s chamber. The primal was not about to fly anywhere immediately, locked into a plinth of metal, bound about by an aetherial shield and magical chains. Aether zapped into the shield from devices raised along the edge of the platform around the primal. Upon the platform, the small figures of Imperial soldiers were locked in combat with a strange race of red and black centaurs – and each other.
“Oh!” Rinala cried. “I didn’t realize we were going straight to him. Oh no, we have to get everyone out as quickly as possible! They’re getting Tempered!”
“First we must destroy those devices,” Regula said, gesturing to the aether-zapping things.
“We shall do it,” Achiyo said. “Kekeniro, your orders?”
“I shall fight with you,” Regula said. “I cannot well ask you to save my men and hang back.”
“Rather not have you Tempered too,” R’nyath muttered. “You look tough to fight.”
“We’ve got the Echo too,” Krile said, gesturing to herself and Unukalhai. “We’ll get the devices if you keep the enemies off us.”
“We, all of us, have pledged our lives-” Urianger began.
“Keep your lives,” Regula snapped. “I would rather you tend to my fallen – some may yet survive with their minds intact.”
“I know not if my strength will be enough,” Unukalhai said. “I am no champion…”
That was right, he was only a boy. “Stay behind me, then,” she said to him.
“The battlefield is no place for uncertainty, boy,” Regula said. “Fate has blessed you with a unique talent and an occasion to use it. Do not waste such a gift.”
“Can I do tactics yet?” Kekeniro asked loudly. “Vivienne, grab all the hostiles’ attention, bring them to one side of the platform where I can Bane them. That will clear the way for Krile and Unukalhai. Regula, Tam, you can get the remaining two devices. Be quick!”
“Got it,” Vivienne said, unslinging her sword from her back.
“We strike!” Regula cried, his own sword gleaming in his hand.
Together they charged into battle; Vivienne called upon the darkness within her to blast the Meracydians with magic, and they charged her. Ducking lances and halberds, grunting a short and sinister laugh within her helmet, she dashed through them like a coil of smoke, leading them to the far side of the platform, away from the wounded Imperials. Achiyo cast Flash to catch the attention of any hostile Imperials, and followed her, keeping her sword wrist loose and ready to parry.
There was much to keep track of, and so once Achiyo saw that Tam had taken down the aether device nearest to them, she settled in to the work of defeating the many enemies still before them. Vivienne could take on the huge Meracydians, she was taller, but Achiyo was content to fight against the Garleans, knocking them unconscious where she could, and making their deaths swift where she could not. Their disoriented attacks against her were not quick, and she did not find it difficult to parry them nor slip past their defences. Chuchupa aided her, bashing kneecaps with blistering flurries, and Tam’s lance whirled and spun, thwacking helms and dropping soldiers into unconsciousness. Perhaps, since they were Tempered, they would have no choice but to end their lives anyway. But that decision could be made later.
“Unukalhai!” cried Krile and Kekeniro at the same time – Krile in fright and Kekeniro in command – Achiyo looked and saw Unukalhai frozen as another Meracydian, hidden until that moment, jumped out to threaten the boy before he had destroyed his assigned aether device. Kekeniro flung out his hand to cast, and that saved Unukalhai’s life perhaps, for the centaur flinched as it stabbed with its lance and only grazed Unukalhai’s side with a glancing blow, knocking him backwards. The centaur ignored Kekeniro and raised its lance to strike again.
Regula van Hydrus roared and leapt forward, blocking the attack, and then the beast reared back, an arrow from R’nyath through its skull. Not missing a moment, Regula slashed it across its belly, a stroke so mighty that it sent the centaur slamming back into the last aether device. As the beast tumbled into the depths of the Flagship below them, Regula set his stance, his blade drawing aether into itself, and it discharged like a machinist’s rifle into the last device, exploding it.
At that moment, the shield around Zurvan shattered. The primal’s eyes glowed red as they opened, fixing upon the legatus before him, and he raised his halberd. Achiyo shouted a warning, running forward, and Regula whirled around just in time to parry that massive blade with his own. He was sent skidding across the floor, hanging on grimly – losing his footing would mean being sent flying into the abyss. His armour glowed strangely – the magitek within was aiding his strength, but it was overloading-!
Zurvan growled at the resistance, and flames shot down the halberd. Regula’s sword shattered, and he crashed heavily to the ground with a spray of blood. Achiyo gasped and took up a defensive position before him, but Zurvan’s eyes closed and his head slumped again.
Unukalhai shakily pulled himself to his feet. “…You saved me. Why?”
Regula turned his head where he lay. “I told you, boy… Yours is a gift too precious to waste. A gift the Emperor may one day have need of in his war upon these untamable eikons…”
Achiyo felt her heart grow cold to see the wound in his side. He had near been ripped in half, and besides the pool of blood spreading below him, the edges glowed strangely. “Rinala-”
“No,” Regula interrupted with surprising strength before Rinala could raise her staff. “Do not heal me. I fear I too have been corrupted – in body if not yet in mind. Emperor Varis, he… He raised me up from the ranks, stood against my detractors… I gladly give my life in his service…” He coughed weakly, wetly. “You must… You must finish this. Slay these leeches upon our star… Kill them all. Kill… Zurvan!”
“I give you my word, we shall,” Achiyo said, kneeling beside him. “Rest in peace, Regula van Hydrus.”
His laboured breathing ceased.
“We have to get everyone out,” Aentfryn said, stooping to lift the body of the legatus. “Everyone out! We’ll kill Zurvan in a minute!”
They stopped in the antechamber, where Aentfryn laid down Regula’s body. The rescued Imperial soldiers gathered around him, visibly distraught. “Forgive me if I show little gratitude for my rescue,” said one. “It is said that the Emperor and van Hydrus were childhood friends. Foul fortune that we should be the ones to bring news of his death…”
“I’m so sorry,” Rinala said. “I wish there was more we could do…”
Vivienne inhaled to speak, then apparently thought better of it. Achiyo was glad. She did not begrudge Vivienne’s animosity, and she herself had no love for the Empire, but these men were at this moment people before they were soldiers.
The soldier sighed. “When I volunteered for this mission, it was in the knowledge that my death would serve a greater purpose. We fell too quickly… Too quickly…”
Another soldier turned to them and clenched his fist. “His favoured blade was shattered, but may your own weapon claim vengeance in its stead!”
Achiyo nodded; then, satisfied that she could not aid them more, turned back to the Scions. “He’s dead,” Unukalhai said quietly, in the voice of one still in disbelief. “Had I only been stronger…”
“Enough of that!” Krile said. “There’ll be time for regrets after we’ve rid the world of Zurvan! There’s been enough sacrifice for one day!”
“Krile has the right of it,” Y’shtola said. “The Demon has fallen back into torpor for now, but we must act swiftly before he wakes again.” She looked back towards the elevator, a worried look in her eyes she did not often show. “‘Tis not often that I dare approach so closely to entities such as Zurvan. How sharply am I reminded of the burden we place upon those whom are blessed with the Echo…”
“Eh, we’re used to it,” R’nyath said.
“No, I appreciate your concern,” Achiyo said. “We must not downplay our responsibilities, even to those who care about us. To do so would be a disservice to everyone who died fighting a primal, Regula van Hydrus and his soldiers not least.” R’nyath ducked his head, chastised, and Y’shtola nodded firmly. “Does anyone need more rest?”
Silence met her call. “Then we shall confront Zurvan now. With me!”
Zurvan waited for them where they had left him, still locked into his metal prison. But now he was awake again, his glowing scarlet eyes casting about for any sign of movement or means of escape. There were no bodies remaining about him, and Achiyo wondered if he had brushed them away… or turned them to aether and absorbed them, as had happened to Ifrit and Titan’s followers when they fought Garuda. A chilling thought, that those people might be… discarded thus, and that he might be that much stronger now. He caught sight of them and roared, raising his halberd. “Mine age of slumber is at an end!”
“Whoa!” Kekeniro said. “Nobody stand in front of him except Achiyo and Vivienne! Everyone else, get behind him!”
That halberd was nearly as long as the lance Nidhogg had wielded in dragoon form, and much thicker. Vivienne lobbed a ball of dark magic at Zurvan, who batted it away, and twisted in his imprisonment to follow her as she ran to the right. Achiyo ran in her wake, and everyone else ran to the left.
Kami! That halberd was huge, larger than Thordan’s sword and imbued with searing flame to boot. He swung it down upon the two of them and they dodged right as it slammed into the platform with a horrible crash, flame bursting from the strike. Achiyo rolled away, coming up on one knee with her shield out. The platform was cloven so deeply that pieces of it began to rain down into the depths of the Flagship.
Zurvan’s fierce voice echoed from the metal walls about them, punctuated with more stabs of his halberd; it screeched repeatedly against Cronus as Vivienne turned them aside with all her might. “A thousand thousand suns may set… but the insult of mine imprisonment… hath been etched upon mine eternal memory.”
“He’s breaking himself free!” Kekeniro called. “We won’t be able to stop him from getting loose so just stay calm!”
It was all very well for him to say, she thought as she threw herself to the side again, avoiding another downwards strike that carved more of the platform away. “I am come to mete out justice. To bestow the blessings of victory unending. I am Zurvan. He who standeth above all other gods. He who shall bring slaughter and ruin!” He raised his other hand, summoning fireballs, and she heard squeaking from the other side of the platform as the others had to scatter. The platform was beginning to wobble – was it less sturdy than the other primals’, or was Zurvan yet stronger?
Even as she thought that, the piece she was standing on broke from Zurvan struggling in his bonds, and everyone went plummeting down.
She didn’t land on her head, or her tail, both of which would be awful; instead she landed on a pile of rubble – stone rubble? – on her side and shield, jarring her arm.
“Bloody hells,” Vivienne said, picking herself up beside her. “Do you want a turn?”
“I will face him,” Achiyo said, and looked up to see Zurvan descending majestically upon them from above, double wings fully spread. The world around them had changed; they stood in the centre of a ruined stone city. Somewhere in Meracydia, no doubt. The air was red and orange with the smog of fires obscuring the sun. Zurvan was gone back in his memory to his last battle, she guessed, to redo what he had failed. The Allagans had brought utter ruin to this long-gone land, and she held no grief that they were vanished from the realm.
Yet he would have to fail again. The Allagans were gone. His vengeance had no target, and she would not let it fall upon the land she had come to love. She held her sword up in challenge, and he came at her with a snarl. “Good and evil, the war eternal… The fires of anger roar and howl… My doubt is fled!”
She had to hop and skip sideways, dodging around the strikes of his massive weapon, praying that if she missed that her armour’s enchantment was stronger than Regula’s magitek had been, else she would be cleft asunder without so much as a thought from him. Behind him she could see the bright flashes of magic from Kekeniro, Rinala, and Aentfryn, saw Tam flare with cobalt fire, the stream of arrows from R’nyath, Chuchupa’s staccato impacts. Zurvan struck back, now wielding ice that froze the ground about them. She had to cry out under the weight of that enormous weapon, but she was not in distress – her enchantments were holding. He gave commands, and more of the strange centaurs they had fought before appeared in the ruins of the city, charging towards them. Vivienne turned to them, swinging Cronus in massive arcs.
Despite the ice, Achiyo was sweating; dust was in her eyes and her mouth. Zurvan rose above them, ascending higher and higher. “Frozen in time, mine armour of flame. Unto eternity’s end, my righteous reign!”
“Boooo, bad rhyme!” R’nyath called, before everyone was made motionless by a sudden swell of ice forming about them from nowhere. There was no water, only ice. It was not like Shiva had been at all.
“Bow to mine infallible judgement!” roared Zurvan, glowing like a bonfire, and slashed the ice sheet in half with his flaming halberd. Aether exploded around them, rolling across and through them in waves of heat and cold. Any unshielded person would have been vapourized – or at least they would have been if it was a little stronger. Zurvan was still weak from millennia of imprisonment, and she thanked the kami for not-so-small mercies.
Zurvan snarled. “What manner of mortals withstand such punishment? By battle, then, shall your fate be decided!” He dove at her once more, and she stepped to meet him, sword and shield high. “Graven in flesh, the brand is awoken… Suffer in endless torment!”
He began to rain down blows upon her, heavier and heavier, faster and faster, driving her back across the plain. She cried out with each blow, until he knocked her shield away, his blade slicing deep through her armour across her right shoulder and upper chest. She reeled with a gasp, her sword falling from her hand, and he knocked her away with a fireball. She skidded and rolled across the stones, agony lancing through her from her grievous wound until she thought she would pass out.
She could hear the others calling out for her, dimly. She couldn’t move her arm. She was having difficulty breathing and felt bubbling in her chest – had he cut into her lung? Was she going to die here? She hadn’t died yet but some of the others had… Would she be able to return as they had? It didn’t help that she was lying on her face and her own body weight was crushing her.
“Benediction!” screamed Rinala, and the agony faded, the bubbling feeling disappeared, and the burns on her face vanished. She scrambled to her feet in a panic, looking for her sword. Vivienne was holding Zurvan off, defensive shadows flickering around her.
She should have cast a defensive spell, any spell. But it had happened so quickly! This was no time to be thinking about her mistakes, though. She snatched up her sword and returned to battle, though the heat pouring from him reminded her of Ifrit. His attacks of ice were almost welcome now.
“He’s nearly down!” Kekeniro called. “Hit him harder!” He matched action to words, striking the primal with Deathflare.
Zurvan faltered even as they pressed him. “Hath mine equivocation cost me this contest!?”
“I dunno what that means but yeah it did!” Chuchupa leaped up, scrambling up his back, and even as he bucked and swatted at her, she delivered a punishing combo to the back of his helmed head. Zurvan reeled and shuddered, losing form in an instant, evaporating into aether.
The war-torn landscape about them vanished, leaving them standing upon Allagan steel, surrounded by fallen pieces of platform. High above them they could see the elevator. “Did you finish it?” Krile’s voice buzzed through their linkpearls. “I can’t see you anymore, but the readings are stable.”
“We did it,” Kekeniro said, weary but cheerful. “We made it without losing anyone.”
“Ah, thank the Twelve,” Krile sighed. “All right. We’ll wait for you in the antechamber.”
“‘Twas pretty close, though,” Chuchupa said, stumping up to Achiyo and looking at her chestplate appraisingly. “Ye might think of gettin’ new armour instead of repairing that’n.”
Achiyo looked down at it, how the very mithril had been cut through. Her gambeson beneath had a charred gash rent in it, and if she looked through that, she could see a faint pink scar newly formed against her green-gold skin. “I think you are right…” She would mourn it; she was attached to it. First her shield, then her sword, now her armour… There was only so much from her past to give up and she begrudged every further thing – though her old sword and shield were indeed safely stored in her room at Fortemps Manor, hardly gone forever.
Chuchupa patted her thigh. “Don’t worry, we’ll get ye as close to the old as we can make. It’s just the breastplate and a bit o’ the pauldron, right?”
“It will be fine,” Achiyo said. “Let us find a way up…”
“Garuda!” Kekeniro said, reaching out his hand to imbue his summon with aether, and she chirped in response, growing in size. “It’ll take her a minute because she has to carry us one at a time, but we’ll get up there.” She squawked at him. “No, listen to me- listen…! Garuda! Pay attention!”
“All right, so I’m wondering, what would happen if we weren’t around?” Tam asked as Aentfryn was sent up first with a protesting Garuda-egi. “Has there been a recent dramatic upswing in the number of primal summonings, or what? What do you lot normally do?”
“That’s right,” Kekeniro said. “Primals have never been unknown to the star, but in recent years since the calamity have they been summoned with ever-increasing frequency.” Achiyo took her helmet off and checked her hair. It had not been charred off in Zurvan’s flames, thank goodness.
“I mean, the Warring Triad are from Meracydia five thousand years ago, clearly it’s not new-” began R’nyath.
“But how many primals have we fought since we joined up?” Rinala asked. “Ifrit didn’t get summoned nearly so much when I was a kid, and Ishgard didn’t even think primals were something to guard against in their thousand year history. I think Tam has a point. Maybe the Ascians are trying harder because we’re around.” Garuda-egi returned and Vivienne reached up a hand to go next.
“Yes, you’re right, the Ascians are definitely to blame for teaching everyone and their green chicken how to do it,” Kekeniro said. “But yeah, since the Echo isn’t a common or well-known ability, normally it just involved way more risk for everyone involved. People getting Tempered, people dying outright… There are a few Summoners like me, Arcanists who saw a primal and lived to tell about it, but not a lot.” He pouted. “I still want to figure out how to summon a Ramuh-egi, or a Leviathan-egi. You know what would be the most awesome? Bahamut-egi.”
“There’s the Lalafell villainy,” Chuchupa said. “I wonder where ye keep it sometimes.”
“Huh?” Kekeniro’s grey eyes were so innocent. “Does it make me more or less villainous if I don’t think it’s particularly villainous to summon Bahamut under the right circumstances…?”
They met the others in the antechamber. The Imperials were gone, with the body of their leader; an airship had come to pick them up.
“I had thought Regula a cold and ruthless man, but he showed surprising compassion for his soldiers,” Krile said. “And it also seems he placed great trust in his emperor. If Regula could be convinced that the technology for containing primals is fatally flawed, then mayhap Varis can be convinced as well.”
Y’shtola shook her head. “When next we meet, our fleeting alliance will surely be forgotten. ‘Twas an interesting exchange, nonetheless.”
“‘Tis always a shock to meet those in the Empire who are honourable on any level,” Achiyo said quietly. “I must keep in mind that though they set themselves against us, they are but people as we are. Gaius van Baelsar might have been the same were he not so arrogant.” It was a strange thought, after having seen how Doma was abused for so many years, after hearing from the refugees what had happened even recently. She did not want to respect them. But Regula had demanded respect, and given it in return. She regretted not being able to save him.
“Contrary to all expectations, the man died a hero,” Unukalhai said, and hesitated. “Witnessing the way you all leapt into danger without hesitation, it would seem I am surrounded by heroes… And yet, my own actions were aught but heroic. I have not the qualities nor the character to stand at the side of the Warriors of Light.”
Krile turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “What a curious thing to say. Are you truly concerned that you do not measure up to some arbitrary requirement?”
Unukalhai looked down at his feet. “If you knew of the path I walked to reach this place, then you would understand why I doubt myself so. Then, I suppose it is time: I shall tell you of my journey. Of who I am. Of where I am from.”
He reached up and removed his mask, pushed back his hood. He was only a young Hyuran boy with silver-grey hair and huge, haunted brown eyes. There was something slightly alien about his face, and yet Achiyo could see plainly: he was a child who had seen too much.
He was from another world, another star, born too late to stop the final calamity that consumed it and turned it into the void from which now the voidsent came. He was saved by the Ascian Elidibus and brought to their world – to the Source, and now he was determined to save the Source as well.
“I cannot imagine the loneliness you must have felt,” Krile said when his tale was done. “But look around you now, Unukalhai… You’re not alone anymore.” She winked.
Y’shtola nodded, and graced him with a tiny smile. “…Welcome to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.”
“And maybe someday, the Warriors of Light!” R’nyath said. “When you’re ready, and if you want to. You won’t be rushed this time.”
Unukalhai looked around at them, and they could feel his incredulous wonder. “I will fulfill my promise to save this world. And when I stumble, I shall be glad to have your hands there to steady me.” He shrank back into himself a little, and quickly put his mask back on, drawing up his hood as well. “My apologies. This is difficult for me. For so long have I spoken from behind a mask…”
“We should all feel comfortable speaking without such concealments,” Urianger said, and everyone turned to look at him.
“I should hope you appreciate the irony of that statement, Urianger,” Y’shtola said tartly, and everyone laughed.
As they returned to the aetheryte, a dull spot of colour caught Achiyo’s eye from right at the end of the dock. She went to find out what it was, and the others followed her.
It was the withered remains of a bouquet wrapped in golden-brown paper and bound with twine. It was mostly stems now, most of the petals had blown away in the wind. In a little while longer she would not be surprised to return and find it had vanished altogether. But it could not be here by chance. “Is this… for Ysayle?” She looked up at the clouded night, trying to remember how the sky had looked when Shiva’s aether had spread across it.
“I wonder who left it?” Rinala said. “Alphinaud?”
“No,” Tam said. “I think it must be Estinien.”
He must be right, and she felt prickles behind her eyes. “She would be touched to the heart.” She hoped he was doing well, wherever he was.
Aymeric was changing from his dress armour to more casual dinner clothes when he noticed two unfamiliar items on his dressing table. One was the hairpin he’d ordered some while ago – a small arrangement of Far Eastern cherry blossoms made of fine white silk, with a soft pink gradient in their centres and exquisitely finished with gold. That, he was glad it had finally arrived. It had taken him an entire moon to find where he might purchase rarities imported from her homeland, and another moon to find something she might like, and yet another moon for it to arrive in his possession. The other object, he had not ordered at all.
He picked up the ringbox and opened it, and found inside his late adopted mother’s engagement ring, a circlet of pearls around a deep blue sapphire set in silver. “Amaury,” he called. Tempête sniffed the box and looked away, uninterested.
“My lord?” His steward entered as if he’d been waiting outside. Tonerre went to greet him with wagging tail.
Aymeric gave him a suspicious look. “What is this?”
His steward had long practice in being imperturbable. “It’s good to be prepared, isn’t it, my lord?”
“That’s a great liberty you’ve taken,” Aymeric said crossly, putting the box down and continuing to dress. He didn’t mind his staff gossiping to each other about when he was going to propose – as long as they didn’t spread it around. And they didn’t, they were loyal to him; when others asked them about it, they were as bland and uninformative as he could wish, as far as he knew. And it was true that he was not very subtle anymore as far as they were concerned: Achiyo had been to every ‘diplomatic’ dinner he’d invited the Warriors of Light to, and more than half the time, no matter who else came, she stayed a little longer to hear more of the book they were reading together. But he didn’t like anyone pushing him to it. “Is it even the right size? Her hands are so small-”
“Please, my lord,” Amaury said. “Of course it is the correct size. And the jeweller does not know any circumstances nor identities, fear not.”
“How could you possibly know her ring size?” Aymeric muttered, tying his jabot.
“Glove size,” Amaury said unabashed. Of course, with Achiyo coming over so often, it would be simplicity itself to borrow her gloves for a moment while they were at dinner. Still, Amaury’s efficiency was a little frightening sometimes.
“‘Tis too soon,” Aymeric said. As far as his own feelings were concerned, he could have married her yesterday and been happy, but he felt that somehow she would not be comfortable with that, that it would be too sudden. None of the moments they’d spent together thus far had felt right, or he might have asked her already, ring or no ring. She seemed like a person to want to do things properly.
Also, Lucia was starting to suspect things, though her reactions tended towards sharp looks and increased formality when the Warriors of Light came up in conversation. He felt a little guilty about her. She liked the Warriors of Light quite well, she even liked Achiyo. He didn’t want to come between them in any way, and if- when he did ask Achiyo for her hand, Lucia would be hurt.
“Well, my lord should probably think about making his feelings known before the rest of us die of old age,” Amaury replied crisply, helping him into his coat.
“I have plenty of time, then,” Aymeric retorted. “Is all ready?”
“All is ready,” Amaury assured him, and backed out of the room with a little bow that was only half-sarcastic and all affectionate.
Aymeric hid the ringbox in the drawer of his dressing table, put the floral hairpin in his pocket, ruffled the heads of both the dogs, and went out to wait for the Warriors of Light to knock at the door.