I was reading Kyota Ko’s Japanese Folktales books and also listening to a ton of Joe Hisaishi (Studio Ghibli’s composer) soundtracks and then my friend and I rewatched Nausicäa of the Valley of the Wind and then I read Spirited Away fanfics for 10 hours straight and it all made me want to write a Japanese-themed fairytale. So I did. Immediately. Abandoning all my other creative commitments.

This fairytale is set in the FFXIV world so I don’t have to do too much world-building/character-building, but it’s set in an AU. Don’t think too hard about it, it’s a fairytale. It features several of my WoL from my main fic, For Love and Life, but you don’t have to read a single word of that for this fic because this fic is in an alternate reality in which the Dragonsong War was somehow resolved in the recent past without the WoL, and Hingashi is currently entering something of a Meiji period in which outsiders are permitted entry. Which is why a couple of my characters who are not from Hingashi (Chuchupa is from Limsa, R’nyath from Gridania) are portrayed as being from Hingashi for purposes of this fic.

Achiyo, my main WoL, has always had Ashitaka’s Theme for her theme song, but lately I’ve been feeling like Nausicäa’s OST would work for her as well, and specifically for this fic Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away OSTs were very inspiring (shout out to The Rain too). Maybe some Inuyasha inspired me too? Idk, I just like the idea of the Japanese wilderness completely infested with supernatural beings and animism. (They’re not the only culture to have this, obviously, but they’re the ones I’ve been reading about so that’s what we’re doing today)

Since this is mostly a romance, I really wasn’t expecting this story to have as much horror element as it did? Japanese horror is inspiring but I didn’t think I’d have that much of it? Arachnophobes should probably skip this one. Or at least, stop reading after the bit about flowers.

I hope it’s entertaining!

glossary for non-FFXIV readers (hi, mom):
– Hingashi = Japan (capital: Bukyo, major port: Kugane)
– Coerthas = ice-bound gothic high fantasy elf France (capital: Holy See of Ishgard)
– Garlean Empire/Garlemald = steampunk villain nation (functionally Roman, geographically Russian)
– Dravania = dragonland, had been at war with Ishgard for 1000 years
– Doma = China
– chocobo = cute ridable ostrich
– Au Ra = draconic-looking humanoids
– Miqo’te = catgirls/catbois
– Lalafells = chibi hobbit-sized humanoids
– Elezen = 6’5″ elves
– Hyur = regular humans
– ceruleum = magic blue petroleum
– Halone the Fury = one of the 12 gods of Eorzea; Ishgard has built a monotheistic Catholic-inspired religion around her. If you substitute “God” for “Fury” you’ll get the gist.
– ilm, fulm, yalm, malm, bell, sennight, moon = inch, foot, yard, mile, hour, week, month
– furisode, geta = long-sleeved formal fancy kimono, sandals
– ijin = irl Japanese ‘gaijin‘, foreigner

 

Ambassador of Ishgard

 

The Hingan mountain path was as beautiful as any he’d seen in Coerthas, the forest as lush as any part of the Black Shroud. Birds chirped, insects buzzed, water trickled. Truly, this untamed mountainous archipelago was a paradise for those who appreciated the wilderness. Aymeric, on his black chocobo Nocturne, led his unit of knights over the head of the pass, marvelling at the heights of the pines about him.

And feeling mildly uncomfortable. All day he’d felt as if someone was watching him, but looking around showed him no sign of anything out of the ordinary. Nocturne did not seem to notice. It was not one of his knights; Lucia had surreptitiously checked for him, and why should they stare at him anyway? They saw him every day. And he did not feel hostility, though he figured that claiming to feel anything from an invisible gaze was tantamount to madness.

He took his helmet off to get a better look, shaking his black hair out from where it stuck to his face from sweat – Hingashi was considerably more humid than Coerthas – and thought he heard a soft gasp. From where, he could not tell, but instantly he was on alert, scanning the forest, the rocks, and even the small mountain stream that tumbled beside the path, long Elezen ears pricked for further sounds. But no faces were hidden behind the pines, no eyes peeked over the stones of the stream, and gradually he came to think he must be mistaken.

“There is no sign of danger,” Lucia reported.

“Aye,” he replied. “No danger…” Then why did he feel so unsettled?

The younger knights were chatting behind. “How much farther until Bukyo, Commander Handeloup?”

“What, you’ve forgotten already, Ser Constaint?” Handeloup rejoined cheerfully. “A sennight, if all goes well. And we’ll be staying for several moons, until Ser Aymeric’s diplomatic mission is complete.”

“I pray that it shall not be complete for some time,” Aymeric called over his shoulder. “This land and her people are fascinating. But we may have to return to Kugane upon occasion, Fury willing.”

“You could delegate such a task,” Lucia reprimanded him. “As Ishgard’s ambassador to Hingashi, it would not be meet for you to run all your errands yourself.”

“And remain cooped in the capital city?” Aymeric shook his head, took one more look around, and replaced his helm. “I wish to meet the people, all sorts of folk. One cannot do that when personally bound to the Imperial Court.”

“That’s our Viscount de Borel,” Ser Constaint murmured, as if he wanted to cheer but felt it was inappropriate to do so.

 

They camped beside the stream that night, and the next morning they had just set out on the road when they came across the camp of other travellers. A trio of travellers, judging from the three tents and three… horses, that was what they were called, who stood quietly beside them. None of the horses were large, but one of them was only the size of a pony.

Aymeric, sans helm, was just inhaling to hail the camp’s occupants, so as not to startle them as they passed by, when one of the tent flaps was pushed aside and out of the tent emerged a noblewoman. He choked on his own inhalation and began to cough uncontrollably, because she was stunningly beautiful; not who he had expected to see in the middle of the wilderness at all. Her silken silver-green hair was done simply but elegantly on the back of her head, secured with jewelled pins, and she wore a soft pink kimono with long sleeves that nearly trailed on the ground. She was very small in stature, he guessed she’d come up to his sternum were they on level ground, and she had horns for ears and a white scaly tail, marking her as an Au Ra. She stared at him with pale, luminous, ethereal blue-green eyes that looked like the moon wrapped in seafoam, and he was embarrassed, because he was stuck in the middle of a coughing fit in front of what looked to be a princess.

“Greetings,” Lucia spoke for him as he was getting himself together. “My lady, we mean you no harm, we are only travellers to Bukyo.”

The princess bowed. “As are we, my attendants and I. Are you quite well?”

The last part was spoken to him, and he’d finally managed to tame the coughs by taking a sip of water from his waterskin. “Quite well, my lady. I was surprised by your beauty in the midst of this wilderness. Pray do not be concerned for me.”

“Oi, oi!” A pink-haired Lalafell crawled out of another tent, jumping to her feet to brandish an axe that was comically large for her short height. Her hair clashed horribly with her yellow tunic. “Ye leave Hime-sama alone!”

“They are not bothering me, Chuchupa,” said the princess. Hime-sama meant ‘princess’, right? That was what the diplomatic corps had said in his briefing notes.

“Yeah, they don’t seem like a threat,” said another voice, and Aymeric looked up to see a red-haired Miqo’te sitting on a treebranch overhead, a bow on his back. Multi-coloured sashes dangled from his waist. “Even if they’re all jangly like that.”

The princess took a step forward and bowed gracefully. “My apologies, I have neglected to introduce myself. “I am Kensaki no Achiyo, and this one is Chuchupa, and that one above is Rinyasu. Though Chuchupa calls me ‘hime-sama‘, it is but teasing; I am no princess.”

“Where are you from?” Lucia asked.

The lady gestured vaguely to the north, past the stream. “My castle, Yamamatsu-jo, lies yonder.”

“Are you a fairy?” blurted out Ser Constaint, who was really quite young.

“What is a fairy?” asked the lady curiously. Her voice was low and melodic. She could be a fairy – but those did not exist in real life quite like they did in fairytales.

“A beautiful, magical person,” Handeloup said. “Usually quite small – though more a few ilms to a fulm, not as your stature, my lady.”

She thought for a moment. “Then I suppose I am not a fairy.”

Aymeric felt like they’d skipped a step. “My lady, I am Ser Aymeric de Borel, ambassador of Ishgard, and this is my entourage. Commander Lucia, my second-in-command. May we escort you and your companions to Bukyo? As long as we are with you, our food, shelter, and protection are yours.” He didn’t quite feel right about a beautiful woman travelling through this wilderness with so few attendants. He himself had ten knights with him. Come to think of it, what was a noblewoman doing with so few attendants?

The Miqo’te jumped down and sniffed in their general direction, then spoke to the Au Ra in a low voice. The Lalafell grunted and muttered something of her own. The lady nodded in answer and turned back to Aymeric. “We should be very glad of your company, Aymeric-sama. Chuchupa and I shall join you now, and Rinyasu shall catch up once he has packed the camp.”

“We can wait,” Aymeric said, it would be rude to rush them.

“No, no, I insist,” Rinyasu said, with a twinkle in his eye. “Please, I won’t be long. And I’ll go ahead in the evening to set up, too.”

“This is how we do it,” Lady Achiyo said, so firmly that Aymeric had no choice but to acquiesce. He followed her as she mounted her horse and set off down the road.

True to his word, Rinyasu caught up to them a few minutes later, a strange fiery light glimmering around his ears and eyes and the packs slung from his horse’s saddle – but it faded rapidly. How he had packed the little camp so quickly was a mystery to Aymeric, but he decided it would be rude to ask. Besides, Lady Achiyo was telling him tales of the history of Bukyo, and he would ill-afford to interrupt her; this was more detailed information than he could have gleaned in person after a moon of living at Bukyo’s court.

But his own turn to regale her came at camp in the evening, when the talk once again turned to fairies, and he told her folktales of Coerthas, stories of fairies, of saints, of witches and elementals, of unicorns and dragons. The knights helped, and Lucia even mentioned a couple of Garlean folktales – though those were darker than Coerthan stories. Lady Achiyo seemed absolutely enthralled by such stories, though they were all fictional, of course.

 

The sennight seemed to blur by with such travelling companions. Chuchupa and Rinyasu both seemed rather mischievous, though Chuchupa’s pranks tended more towards drunken rowdiness – where she was getting the alcohol from, no one seemed to know – and Rinyasu’s tended more towards flirting with every knight in the entourage. It seemed amazing that the Miqo’te, with but a change in body language, would suddenly appear more feminine to the male knights, more masculine to the female knights. Lucia and Handeloup had their hands full maintaining discipline with those two causing mild chaos in the name of fun.

Lady Achiyo was not a prankster, and since he was monopolizing her attention – not purposefully, truly – Aymeric was largely spared from the antics of the other two. They spoke together of folklore, of history, of poetry, of music; he and his knights said grace before their meals, sparking fascinating discussions with her on religion and ritual. She asked about the chocobos, which she called ‘horse-birds’; Chuchupa asked how they tasted. He told her about his friends in Ishgard, Count Edmont, Lord Haurchefant, Ser Estinien. They discussed naming conventions and honorifics, and she insisted that he and the Ishgardians should call her ‘Lady Achiyo’ to her own face, as she found the foreign term charming. He was flattered that she called him ‘Aymeric-sama’; really, he judged that he ought to be called ‘dono‘ by what little he knew of their system, and ‘sama‘ outranked ‘dono‘, but she shook her head and said it didn’t suit him. 

Lady Achiyo also seemed quite happy to answer any questions he had about Hingashi, which was going to be invaluable in dealing with the Emperor. At one point she had seemed like she was going to invite him to her castle for tea, but thought better of it and gracefully changed tack.

Aymeric understood; he really did. Despite the fact they were getting along like fast friends, he was still a stranger to this land and her people. So he only bowed gallantly and said it would be a pleasure if circumstances changed.

They parted amicably just inside the gates of Bukyo, and he and his knights made their way to the Imperial palace. Folk stared, but Aymeric was used to it by now – it seemed knights covered head to foot in metal armour riding chocobos were as foreign in Hingashi as Au Ra riding horses were in Coerthas.

“Methinks you will be lonely without Lady Achiyo’s smiles to engage your hours,” Lucia teased him.

“Hardly,” he answered. “We shall meet many people at the court. Lady Achiyo is a very kind, very gracious woman. But I shall not be lonely.”

“Lonely or not, you spent every waking moment trying to look after her,” Handeloup put in from the other side. “The woman was clearly able to take care of herself, if she was doing this travelling alone.”

“W-well, it pleased me to,” Aymeric said, then reflected that that was not quite the right thing to say. “I mean, it was the gentlemanly thing to do, of course.”

“Besotted,” Lucia muttered, stifling a snicker.

He waved dismissively at her. “Besides, the Fury only knows if we shall see her again.”

 

Ducking into the forest just outside the city, three beings conferred.

“Ugh, don’t tell me,” said the female tanuki, adjusting her yellow patterned gi. “Ye didn’t get enough o’ him. Ye’ve had yer look, but ye want more.”

“They seemed pretty fun!” said the kitsune, lounging on a hammock he’d conjured from foxfire and air. “Except for the part where they were boasting about slaying dragons. A bit concerning, no?”

The young woman between the two beasts blushed. “But he seems kind. They weren’t boasting. They said they ended their war with the dragons, and regretted that it ever happened. And their dragons seem different than ours. Surely he wouldn’t…”

“By the kami, ye haven’t been this smitten with a mortal in… ever!” the tanuki exclaimed. “I mean, I’m only 80, but I’ve heard ye say so. And ye nearly invited him over, are ye crazy?”

“I…” The woman breathed in serenity. “I find him beautiful. Not only in looks, but in heart as well.”

“Yeah, you have a point,” admitted the kitsune. “He does have a good heart. It smells so tasty. But I hope this doesn’t happen too often. You know how much of a pain it is to pack a camp when no one’s looking? Good thing I use foxfire.” To punctuate his point, he flicked his fingers, and a horse appeared… and disappeared in a puff of green fire.

“Much less of a pain than doin’ it by hand,” said the tanuki. “Quit yer complainin’.”

“But you will help me anyway, because you are my dear friends,” the woman said, smiling, and turned to face the woods. “Shall we return home for now? On my back!”

A moment later, a silvery thread, like a wisp of cloud, blew north-west, back towards the mountains.

 

It had been a few moons since Aymeric had last been outside of Bukyo, had seen Lady Achiyo. He couldn’t forget her, couldn’t stop thinking about her. There were beautiful ladies at court, with all different colours of hair and kimono and eyes, and yet none of them was quite as beautiful and interesting to him as the woman with silver-green hair and eyes of moonlight seafoam, wrapped in soft blushing pink. It was a bit awkward for him how popular he was, with both men and women; he knew he was considered attractive in Ishgard, with his shining wavy black hair, his light blue eyes, his courteous speech in a warm baritone voice, and here in Bukyo his foreignness seemed to double his charms. And yet all his conversations lacked… something. Something that she’d had.

Now he was heading back up the same mountain pass as before, and it was immensely foolish, but he couldn’t shake the hope that he might see her again just from being in the same place as before. He was only going to investigate a disturbance on behalf of the Emperor, but it was nice to get out of the capital for a bit, to ride again in these woods where the air seemed so fresh and clean, and the birds sang, and the water trickled.

Except… the air did not seem so clean as before, as he came to the head of the pass. He smelled ceruleum and frowned. The Garlean Empire had their embassy, their diplomats in Bukyo as well, and they were pushing for the Emperor to embrace magitek to modernize the nation. Aymeric had nothing against magitek; Master Garlond’s Ironworks was working with Ishgard’s own Skysteel Foundry, after all, to create marvellous airships never before seen. And yet… what he had seen of the Garleans’ own magitek – which was, admittedly, largely for war – seemed to be not so well-built, nor so useful. Cold, unfeeling, mass-produced it all seemed, prone to enslave lives with its allure rather than set them free. He had been to the Garlean capital once and had not liked it much.

So he was rather horrified to find that someone had been treating the little stream that flowed next to the path as a garbage dump for broken magitek. This wasn’t the disturbance he was supposed to investigate, was it? He dismounted from Nocturne and drew closer, and suddenly there was a rush as strange, tall, lithe ghostly beings fled from the discarded wreckage, dropping a piece into the water with a splash.

“W-what are those?” Ser Constaint demanded with a trembling voice, a hand on his sword.

“Stay your hand,” Handeloup told him. “They appear to be afraid of us.”

“Perhaps they are local elementals?” Aymeric said, kneeling beside the stream. “I have heard tale of such things from the Black Shroud. Look, they were removing the magitek parts from the water.”

It was a wrecked flying tower, he now saw – wrecked quite spectacularly, too. Its parts were scattered nigh a malm down the stream, leaking oil and ceruleum. He frowned. It didn’t feel right to leave this here. And surely the cause of this wreck was the disturbance he’d been asked to investigate. “Ser Handeloup, ready the chocobos for hauling. Dame Lucia, we need to remove this wreckage from the stream.”

“Aye, sir!” The knights didn’t question him, dismounting and wading into the stream with him to pick up pieces and drag them to the path.

“There is too much here for our chocobos to haul,” Lucia pointed out after only a few minutes. “And we shall go very slowly back to the city. I do not know if we have the provisions to go more than two weeks.”

“I know,” Aymeric said. “But what else can we do? We cannot at least leave it in the stream to pollute all that flows downhill from here. It-” He stopped. A ghostly figure was peering from behind a tree. But instead of creeping fear, he felt only curiosity. “An elemental?”

He didn’t know what else to call it, but he took a couple steps forward and reached out his hand to it. “Greetings to you, o spirit. We would like to help you. I am no Hearer of Gridania, but make your will known to us and we shall attempt it.”

The ghostly figure bowed to him and faded from sight. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he bowed in return and went back to lifting wreckage. Those flying towers were really very large.

It took them two days to get the biggest parts out of the stream, laying it beside the path in a compact heap. In the mornings, more had always been done than had been done the night before; he wondered if those tall elemental things had lifted some of the other pieces in the night when the mortals couldn’t watch them.

As the last piece left the stream, he felt a drop of rain, and a few minutes later a soft misty downpour was drenching them all. He took a deep breath as the stink of ceruleum began to wash away, replacing it with the petrichor of earth and moss and pine. They would at least take the engine with them to Bukyo to be disposed of safely. The rest of the burned metal and ceramic… he had no idea.

He looked up, and Lady Achiyo was watching them from further up the path. How long had she been there? Why had she not called out? Why was she simply standing in the rain with no cloak or hood or umbrella? He hurried up to her with a spare cloak. “Lady Achiyo! Alas, I do not have much to protect you from the weather…”

She shook her head with a smile, putting out a hand to ward off his attempts to shield her from the rain with the cloak. “I like the rain. Do not be troubled.” Her voice caught, and she coughed slightly behind her slender hand.

“Are you well?” he asked anxiously. “Surely being in the rain will only exacerbate your sickness…”

She shook her head again. “I have a slight cold. It is not catching. The rain will not affect it.” She looked up at the grey sky as if sensing his skepticism. “Truly, I love the rain. It makes all things clean. It is so calming.”

He thought it was more calming to watch from inside shelter, perhaps with a cup of hot tea, but seeing how serene she looked, he had to believe her, her silk robes soaked to her skin, her hair – her hair was down, with only a headband and a single floral hairpin on her head, and the silver-green tresses extended nigh to her knees, sticking to her body. “It has certainly cleared the air. You would not want to smell the ceruleum as it was before. What brings you here, Lady Achiyo?”

“I came to see what was happening with this strange device,” she said, gesturing to the wreckage. “I thank you for removing it from the water. This isn’t even your nation.”

“I see no reason to allow this land to be spoiled even if it is not mine,” he answered. “But I am glad I have not overstepped. Do you know how it came to be here?

She nodded. “There was a great storm a few days ago; I think that is when this fell from the sky. It could not contend with a great wind from the mountain. It should not have fallen there. I was- The wind was too strong, I think. The spirits only meant for it to turn around, not to bring it down. But those little wings it has are so fragile.” She stifled another cough.

“I understand,” he said. Actually, he wasn’t quite sure what she was saying about spirits, but a storm – that he could understand well enough, whether from supernatural causes or not. “We had wondered. Was there anything else happening? Word came to Bukyo of a disturbance and I volunteered to investigate on the Emperor’s behalf.”

“Yes – there were ijin in black armour nosing about where they should not. But after the defeat of their flying thing, I believe they have retreated. Ah!” She hurried forward on her sandaled feet, and he followed as she approached one of the elemental things lurking behind a tree. “Kodama, you all have been toiling so hard to cleanse me- my lands. Thank you for welcoming these knights.” The tall being bowed and disappeared.

“Kodama?” he asked.

“Spirits of the trees,” she said, gesturing around them. “They are shy, especially around mortals. It is lovely that they would appear to you. It means you are a good-hearted person.”

Such praise delighted him no end. And it explained why he had not felt afraid of them. “Do you see them often, Lady Achiyo?”

“Sometimes,” she said, after a moment of thought. “When the forest is particularly peaceful. Anyway. About this metal thing.”

“We can take the engine back to Bukyo,” he said. “But we do not have the strength to move the whole thing now.”

She smiled. “Take the poisonous parts. Leave all the plain metal. My people will make use of it.”

“I am glad you have a plan,” he said. “Together, you, I, and the ele- er, kodamas, we shall remove this accident.”

She turned to him. “Aymeric-sama, I have a request – if it’s not too much to ask.”

“Ask, and I shall attempt to grant whatever you wish,” he said.

Was that a bit of a blush? “I would like to return to Bukyo to speak to folk there of this incident. May I travel with you?”

“I- We should be very glad of your company,” he said – and as if the weather responded to his feelings, the clouds parted and silver sunlight shone down upon the rain-wet land, sparkling diamond droplets hanging from every pine needle, every branch… and Lady Achiyo’s horns and hair and nose and chin.

Fury preserve him, he was in a fair way to be in love in the way that Lucia and Handeloup were teasing him for.

 

The travel back was a bit slower, given that four of the chocobos were hauling this engine. Achiyo’s two attendants appeared from the forest – was there no road to Yamamatsu-jo? It seemed a bit odd, once he thought about it. How did she get about in her fine kimonos and her little sandals without so much as a footpath on these steep slopes?

He digressed. The attendants had brought extra horses, so that those knights whose chocobos were now hauling could still ride. True to her word, Lady Achiyo’s cough seemed to clear up after only a day. Her company was even more enchanting than before, and even with the extra day’s travel from the extra weight, it was still too soon that Bukyo appeared before them. He almost worried that she really was using some sort of magic to ensnare him, but there was something about her that spoke of a slightly awkward sincerity, despite her tranquil grace. He’d almost swear that she could no more deceive than she could fly.

She remained in the capital at court now, where he saw her often; he wasn’t sure who she wanted to speak to about the incident, but he gave his own report to the Emperor and was thanked for his efforts. 

Well, besides getting into a bit of a spat with the Garlean ambassador over the conduct of their troops, but he had to admit he didn’t have the full picture of the Garleans’ intentions – and the ambassador was actually quite reasonable and sympathetic about ‘not dumping chemical pollutants in the wilderness’, pointed out that they hadn’t done that, at least, on purpose, and asked that if such an incident occurred again, that they alert her immediately so she could take responsibility for the clean-up. If only all Garleans were so reasonable! Though it concerned him that she had not already taken responsibility for this incident. Had she not had word from her troops? Had something happened to them too? He could not discover it. If she discussed it with the Emperor, Aymeric was not present for it.

Aymeric noticed that Lady Achiyo did not mingle much with the other courtiers, or they did not mingle with her, and wondered why not. Was it because she was from a rural area? She seemed no less sophisticated than the city-dwellers, when he saw them side-by-side. But he was glad of her presence, though he was in danger of spending too much time with her, neglecting his mission.

For some reason, his mission was going more smoothly than ever. Trade was going well, some courtiers were adopting Ishgardian fashion elements into their style of dress, and the Emperor seemed favourable to a formal alliance. Aymeric was almost afraid that meant he would be called home sooner rather than later. Certainly, he missed Ishgard a little, but he wasn’t done exploring this new land.

 

Once more he took to the mountain roads. Aymeric was going to Kugane to settle some trading issues involving Ishgardian merchants, and Lady Achiyo had taken advantage of his journey to ask him to escort her back to her domain in the mountains. She really seemed to like him as much as he liked her, and it made him very happy – especially when Lucia reported to him that Rinyasu and Chuchupa were teasing Lady Achiyo the same way that Lucia and Handeloup were teasing Aymeric. Which intelligence was followed by more teasing, naturally.

So he flattered himself that doing this favour for her gave her as much pleasure as it gave to him, as they spoke yet more on dance and cuisine and onsens. “There is a very fine onsen in my domain,” she said. “Someday you should visit.”

Aymeric sensed rather than saw Chuchupa’s eyeroll as he answered. “I should like that. We do not have many hotsprings in Coerthas, despite its mountains, and I cannot say we have taken advantage of them the way that you and your people have.”

“Explains why you’re so stinky,” Rinyasu muttered.

Lucia sputtered. “For your information, Master Rinyasu, we have adopted the local bathing customs since we came here. We are now no more unwashed than any of your people.”

The Miqo’te grinned. “Sorry, milady. My sense of smell is very good. And you haven’t started bathing your chocobos every other day, have you?”

Handeloup looked startled. “Should we do that, Ser?”

Aymeric didn’t know why he was asking him. “How often do you bathe your horses?” he asked Rinyasu.

“We give ’em a rub every day,” Rinyasu said. “Full bath probably once a week.” That didn’t sound too far off from the chocobos’ routine, but perhaps the Hingan sense of smell was still not accustomed to chocobos. Aymeric certainly felt the horses smelled quite strongly.

“Ware, Ser,” Lucia said suddenly, and they looked up to see a party of samurai blocking the road. They reined in their chocobos and horses.

One of the samurai stepped forward. “Aymerikku of Ishigardo!”

Close enough. “That is who I am. What is it you wish of me?” Aymeric answered, a hand on his sword.

“Your life is hereby forfeit!” called the samurai. “Your cursed foreign ways are bringing corruption to our righteous, pure way of life! The kami curse you!” Hmph. Aymeric supposed he couldn’t be too upset over these accusations; their mirror had certainly been heard in the Holy See, only a few years ago, and with official sanction, too.

“The kami have done no such thing!” Lady Achiyo cried, indignantly. “You know nothing of them or him!”

“You are no miko, but it doesn’t matter.” The samurai drew his sword. “I am Hagane no Hirafusa, Lord of Kuriyako, First Blade of Yumishi, Emerald of the Tsuba, and I will slay you this day, Aymerikku of Ishigardo!”

Aymeric frowned. “One of your own people travels with me – Kensaki no Achiyo-dono. Will you let her depart this place before we engage in battle?”

“Attack!” yelled the samurai. That was a ‘no’, then. 

Aymeric hastily put his helm on. “Stay behind us, Lady Achiyo! Knights, with me! For the Fury!” He drew his blue crystal blade Naegling and charged – a mounted chocobo charge would surely break the formation of knights on foot. The only thing he feared was that the samurai would have reinforcements that might come around behind them, for once the chocobos lost their momentum, they would be a lot more vulnerable.

The chocobos thundered through the samurai, scattering them, and Lady Achiyo’s attendants joined the fray as well – Rinyasu had drawn his bow and was aiming fire-tipped arrows, at the back of the formation with the other archer knights and the two conjurers, and Chuchupa was in the forefront with her huge axe. Lady Achiyo had drawn back as he had asked, and he lost track of her behind him.

Before he knew it, he was through the samurai lines, and wheeling about to charge back again, when a spear with a blade like a sword came cutting at him. Aymeric ducked, but between the momentum of his turn and the sudden motion, he lost his balance and slipped from the saddle, rolling on the hard stony ground. He was separated from his knights-!

“Ser Aymeric!” shouted Lucia, fighting to get to him, and Nocturne was valiantly kicking, ready to stomp any assailants to death. A kick from an Elezen-bred war-chocobo could easily snap a Hyur’s spine or crush their skull. That long spear slashed at Nocturne, and the chocobo screeched as the blue barding and several black feathers were sliced in half. Nocturne kicked back and the attacking samurai crumpled. Hagane, his challenger, was running up, sword raised to strike, and Aymeric raised Naegling to parry-

There was a bright flash, and then something went whoosh, and a long white streak struck Hagane with the force of a cannonball. Yalms and yalms of white… scaly… furry… something whizzed by before his eyes, slamming Hagane’s body into a tree with a crack that echoed through the forest. The creature turned, and Aymeric’s jaw fell open. By the Fury!

It was a dragon, not such as lived in Dravania, but like those he had seen in tapestries and sculptures in Bukyo – wingless, almost a serpent but for a pair of short legs at either end of its sinuous body, not white after all but covered in shimmering mother-of-pearl scales with a rosy tint; a narrow, pale sage-green mane streamed down the length of its back. Three-toed golden talons like an eagle’s flexed and clenched, the front right one drenched in the blood of the samurai as his body slid to the ground. The claws looked as sharp as mithril razors and he swallowed as he looked up and met eyes like moonlight seafoam, wide and wild and inhuman. The face was more square than most Dravanian dragons, more like a dog than a lizard, crowned with an array of gleaming back-swept horns or antlers. Its head remained steady, but its body constantly shifted and writhed, flowing like water given shape and form; its jaws opened, revealing rows of dagger-like teeth.

For a moment he was lost entirely in awe of this gorgeous, alien creature, so different from the ones he had known from his homeland – and then it hissed and lunged- past him. Aymeric made an undignified noise, nearly attacking it in panicked reflex – the Dragonsong War had only ended a few years before – but it shot past him, tearing through a samurai who had thought to creep up on him while he was distracted. Nocturne screamed and bolted, and Aymeric didn’t blame him. But before he could move to do likewise, shining coils of dragon tail looped around the patch of ground where he was still sprawled on his back, the back half of the dragon swirling protectively around him while the front half rampaged through the remaining samurai. The water of the stream rose in looping curls and slashed at their enemies, swirling around the dragon in powerful spirals, then gathered itself as if to crash over the battlefield in a tidal wave.

The samurai were shouting something to each other, but it was in Hingan and he couldn’t understand most of it – he’d been working on his comprehension, but he only caught ‘ryuu‘ – well, ‘dragon’, that was obvious – and ‘kawa‘, or ‘river’. A river spirit, judging by their belief system? Most of their shouting was now screaming, and the remainder were fleeing. The dragon was uncoiling from around him to reach them better. The tidal wave subsided without breaking.

“Do not let them escape!” Lucia ordered.

“No, let them go!” Aymeric commanded, finally scrambling to his feet. “Let them go. They will not try that again. And-” He fell silent as the dragon looked at him again.

It had drawn away, nearer to the stream, and was watching him warily, covered in bleeding slashes from the katana of the desperate samurai. It had protected him… but it was also afraid of him? Surely not. He was doubtful if he were a match for such a powerful creature. Did it not speak?

The dragon’s gaze shifted behind him, and it suddenly ducked and sprang into the sky as an arrow nearly grazed it.

“Hold!” Lucia growled angrily, looking to the archer knights, one of whom was guiltily holding a still-raised bow. “That thing saved Ser Aymeric, and you try and shoot it!?”

Aymeric stared after it a moment longer, but it was not coming back. He took stock of the battlefield instead. Fifteen dead samurai, eight of them to the dragon’s claws and magic in but a few seconds. The conjurers were healing anyone who had been even slightly wounded in the encounter. Rinyasu and Chuchupa were standing a little apart, muttering to each other. Lady Achiyo-

“Where is Lady Achiyo?” he asked suddenly, clicking for Nocturne. 

Rinyasu turned to him and grimaced. “She, uh, she ran away. She doesn’t like fighting at all.”

Aymeric felt shame and sadness rush through him. “I understand. I regret that she was anywhere near this situation. But where did she go? I would know that she is truly safe.”

“She’s fine,” Chuchupa said shortly. “I saw she’s headed to Yamamatsu-jo. Bit earlier than she meant to, but she’ll get there all right, none o’ those running samurai went that way. Or I’d already be after ’em.”

Were they upset with him? Why? “May I-”

“No,” Rinyasu said. “You’d better be on your way to Kugane. I don’t think anyone will bother you from now on.” He gave Aymeric a cold smile. “After all, you’ve had supernatural protection from a river spirit. Clearly you got someone’s favour.”

Aymeric gave up. Something was wrong, and he could not fix it by talking to these two, and he feared to offend them further. “Please convey to her my most sincere apologies, and my hope that we may meet again soon.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Rinyasu said, and the two Hingans turned their horses to cross the stream and head north into the woods.

And though he was still sick to his stomach with worry, he had to mount Nocturne and depart that place and head onwards. There was no point in lingering.

He had not even been able to thank the dragon.

 

The next few times he travelled that road, he felt that sensation of being watched again. Could it be those kodama? Could it be the dragon? Was it the dragon of that stream? He had no answers, and the forest was not forthcoming. At least he was not attacked again. The survivors must have passed on the tale.

It was nigh a year later that while passing on that road, he and what knights were with him had made camp – and he suddenly looked up to see a delicate little familiar figure standing just outside the firelight. “Lady Achiyo!” he cried, standing, lighting up with gladness.

For a moment, she didn’t move – a moment just long enough to remember all the stories of ghosts and demons he’d heard in Hingashi, for her silhouette was slightly ominous where she stood motionless in the dark – but then she stepped quickly into the light, and she was smiling. “Aymeric-sama.”

“It is so good to see you once more,” he gushed, gesturing for her to join them at the fire. “I was terrified for your safety, after you disappeared, and Rinyasu and Chuchupa’s assurances that you were safe did not quell those fears.”

Her face closed off sombrely as she took a seat at the fire. “I apologize. I could not face you after I fled. I did not know what you might think of me. I have had word of you whenever you passed this way, and yet, I could not…”

“All is forgiven,” he assured her. “What roused your courage tonight?”

“Chuchupa,” she said with a little smile. “She practically booted me from my own castle. ‘Enough is enough’, she said… and here I am. I am not a bother, am I?”

“Not at all,” he said. “I am grateful to see you again, to know what happened. I was afraid I had done something to offend you.” It did seem rather easy to offend people here. But then it was quite easy to offend people in Ishgard, if you did not know the customs.

She looked away. “You could not. Not intentionally.” Was she giving him grace for not knowing how not to offend? What could he do better?

“Did Chuchupa and Rinyasu tell you what happened in the battle, or do you not wish to know?”

Her face looked oddly strained in the flickering light of the fire. “They told me. A dragon came to you. Truly, you are favoured.”

“It seems so,” he said. “I have not been able to find anyone who knows – perhaps it is a spirit of this forest? Of this stream?”

“It seems likely,” she said. “The local people do make offerings to the dragon of the mountain stream, that she may bless their crops and not raise the waters in wrath against them.”

So the dragon had a gender. “She was certainly moved in wrath in that battle… I could not thank her for saving me. Do you know where I could make a suitable offering to her?”

She turned to him, beautiful eyes wide and astonished. “But… you said that you fought against dragons. For a thousand years, even.”

“And now the war is over,” Aymeric said. “A war thousands of malms removed from this dragon, who has saved my life. I do not wish to be ungrateful in this land where I am a guest.”

She stared at him for a moment more. “Then I shall bring you to a shrine.”

“And what should I bring?” he asked eagerly. “What do dragons like?”

She giggled a little. “All dragons like different things. It depends what sort of dragon they are, and their personalities, and the person making the offering. I think for you, for this dragon…” She glanced at him sidelong. “I think flowers would be best.”

“Only flowers?” It seemed a poor trade for the wounds the dragon had endured for him.

“I think she will like them,” she said, smiling. Stifling another giggle. 

Well, she would know better than him. It was probably logical that a nature spirit would enjoy being given natural gifts. “Then as soon as I have been to Bukyo, I shall obtain the most beautiful flowers I can.”

“May I come with you?” she asked. “It is time I made another visit to Bukyo myself.”

“You are always very welcome, Lady Achiyo.”

“Arigatou, Aymeric-sama.”

 

Together, they entered the court. Aymeric had obligations to mortals before he fulfilled his obligations to immortals, and so he had to spend a few days in Bukyo. He made his rounds to the people he must talk to, and Lady Achiyo seemed to do likewise, though whenever he caught a glimpse of her, she did not seem to be talking to anyone. Once more she seemed to be a ghost unnoticed among the busy courtiers, but he was too occupied to ponder the mystery at any length. Once again, he resolved to ask her the next time they had a moment, and prayed that his duties did not drive it from his head yet again.

“Aymeric-dono?” said a soft-voiced young nobleman. “My mistress has been hearing tales of your deeds and is greatly interested in meeting you.”

“I should be glad to make her acquaintance,” Aymeric said. “May I know her name?”

The young man smiled. “I think she would rather introduce herself in person, privately – she finds the pressures of court wearying. If you have a moment?”

Aymeric thought briefly on his agenda. There were still other people he was planning to talk to, but he still had a few bells in the day. A private interview would not take too long, would it?

Assuming that this was not some sort of scheme, in which case… “I do, but I beg your leave to inform my aide of the change to my schedule.” He had his sword, as lords and samurai were permitted to wear, and he had practice in diplomatically turning down marriage proposals, so he was not terribly afraid for his life or freedom. But Lucia should know.

“I shall await your return, Aymeric-dono,” said the noble, and bowed and retreated to a corridor that led out of the room.

He caught Lucia’s eye and gestured, and she was at his side in a moment. “Ser?”

“I’ve received an invitation to a private conference with a mysterious individual,” he explained. “May I trouble you for reinforcement?”

“Certainly,” she said, crisply professional. She’d never leave his back unguarded while she drew breath, leaving him free to concentrate on the situation at hand. It worked well for them.

Together, they followed the young nobleman, who bowed, smiling, and led them further into the palace. Through corridors, and gardens, and more corridors… “Your mistress is quite removed from the court,” Aymeric commented. He was actually starting to get worried about getting lost.

“As I said, she does not like attending court,” said the young man. “Only a little farther now- Who’s there?”

Aymeric turned to see Lady Achiyo in the corridor behind them. How she had kept up with their long strides in her furisode and geta, which forced her to take tiny steps, he did not know. Nor had he heard her, not the clip-clip of her steps, nor the tinkling of her silver hair ornaments, not until he caught sight of her. “Lady Achiyo?”

“Aymeric-sama,” she greeted him. “I would join you for this interview.”

“Do you know who it is?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she said, and gave a subtle look towards the young man. She did not trust their guide?

Aymeric looked, and saw the noble watching them with a vacant smile. After a moment, the noble shrugged. “Achiyo-dono, is it? I would encourage you to mind your own business. This is a delicate matter that only involves these ijin.”

Lady Achiyo smiled serenely. “A delicate matter? All the more reason he should have an honest translator, that you may not speak behind his back.”

The noble shrugged again. “It would be for your own good, ojou-dono. But if you insist. Here is my mistress’s servant.” They entered a large, square room, where a samurai lord in armour waited for them, surrounded by some guards and lesser samurai. The noble went to stand behind the samurai.

Aymeric was just about ready to turn around at the sight of so many guards. “Is there some reason you are so heavily armed against but so few of us?”

“I have heard that Eorzeans respect strength,” said the samurai. “So I show you strength, to show you that I am serious.” Was there any people in any land who did not respect strength? “I am Furukane no Naomasa, Lord of Horosato on the Western Strand. You are Aymeric the Blue, Viscount de Borel of Ishgard, and Lucia his right hand, and…”

“Kensaki no Achiyo, of Yamamatsu-jo,” said Lady Achiyo.

“Kensaki-dono, please leave. You should not fraternize with foreigners. You will only come to grief.”

He didn’t have to look to see how offended Lady Achiyo was. She moved a step closer to him. “I shall certainly not. Aymeric-sama is an honourable man, and Lucia-dono is a loyal woman. They are my friends.”

“Then hear my message, and decide again,” said Furukane. “You must leave Hingashi, Aymeric-dono. She has tolerated you long enough.”

Aymeric frowned. “The Emperor himself has sanctioned Eorzean embassies. Should I go, there will only come another emissary – and perhaps not one so respectful of your customs.” A good many of his countrymen had very stiff necks.

“Bah! No outsiders respect our customs, and you are arrogant to believe you are the first. There will be no more emissaries from Ishgard, at least,” said Furukane grimly. “We have no need of outsiders to sap our strength, to dilute our way of life, to trample our customs. One at a time, with the kami’s guidance, we will cleanse our land of harmful influences. We do not oppose the Emperor, but we shall guide him to make our land stronger, not weaker.”

Aymeric reached out persuasively. “Once, my people thought as you do, until just recently. Know you of the Dragonsong War? We closed our gates to outsiders, for we believed that only the purest of devotions to Halone the Fury would allow us to prevail in our ancient conflict. Yet faith alone could not grant us peace. Only when-”

“The dealings of your land have no bearing on ours,” Furukane interrupted him. “If you will not comply, then I’m afraid you will not be seen again.” He gestured, and a samurai slammed the doors shut behind them and locked them.

Aymeric’s hand went to his sword, but although every other person in the room drew a blade, he felt a touch on his arm and stopped as Lady Achiyo stepped past him, in front of him. “Lady Achiyo…?”

“Kensaki-dono, I did not wish to harm you, but you are in the wrong place at the wrong time,” began Furukane.

Aymeric finished drawing Naegling. “I would not lay down my life gently, but I would sell it even more dearly to protect her. Let her go and face me alone.” Hingan samurai liked their honourable duels, did they not?

“And I am sworn to protect Ser Aymeric, so you will have to go through both of us first,” Lucia said.

“Peace,” Lady Achiyo said, to all of them. “Furukane-dono, before you fight, I wish to speak.”

“Speak quickly, then,” Furukane commanded.

“Aymeric-sama has been here for more than two years, and never has he done aught to harm Hingashi. He listens. He is patient. He is kind – even to the very least of beings. He honours our customs as he becomes familiar with them. He has the favour of the kodama, and has gone out of his way to aid my forest when there could be no benefit to him. He forgives us when we insult him, and apologizes sincerely when by ignorance he insults us. He is proud of his homeland, and yet he has come to love our land too. If you were to kill him, you would not only deprive Ishgard of a faithful son, and Hingashi of a gracious friend, but you would deprive the whole world of a good man.”

“Were he your husband, Kensaki-dono, I would not turn back from my course,” said Furukane. Every sword was raised.

“Then I have no choice,” Lady Achiyo said sadly.

“Lady Achiyo, stay behind-” Aymeric began, but stopped as she gave him a strange, sad little smile. Then he noticed she was glowing gently, then brighter and brighter, her long long hair beginning to float around her. There was a brilliant flash and then between Aymeric, Lucia, and the samurai, there was a dragon, filling most of the remaining space in the room.

The same dragon that had saved him before – all the puzzle pieces flashed together in his head – rosy mother-of-pearl scales, sage-green mane, golden claws… and those incredible eyes, he should have recognized her eyes, but how was he to know that she could shapeshift? She growled, low in her throat, and a coil of her body slid around him protectively – even possessively, the way she was hunching up, watching the samurai warily, ready to eviscerate the first person to attack him.

“Oh,” Lucia said, and he had to agree.

“K-Kensaki-sama,” stammered Furukane. “I- We- We beg your forgiveness, we did not know- Why do you protect this ijin? He is unworthy of your greatness!”

Lady Achiyo – could he still call her a lady when she was a dragon? Perhaps it was even more fitting when she was a dragon, so beautiful and powerful she was – only growled. She was never still, shifting, prowling, her front half floating as if weightless.

“L-let her go,” Furukane said, gesturing to a samurai to open the doors they had come in through. Lady Achiyo growled again, louder. Her teeth and claws did look very sharp, and there was not a samurai in the room who was out of range. “Let them all go!”

He was interrupted by a soft chuckle from the young noble who had led them there. All this time he had been standing in a corner, smiling vacantly, but now he stepped forward in front of him. “No one will be leaving now, Furukane-dono. Or should I say, little Furukane.”

“It’s stuck!” cried the samurai at the door. “I can’t get it open!”

Aymeric shared an alarmed look with Lucia. A third party? He put a hand on Achiyo’s back, though what message he was trying to convey – support, comfort, courage – he did not know, and she most likely didn’t need it anyway.

“I’m so glad you decided to take me up on my offer, little Furukane,” the noble said, spinning lazily on his tiptoes, staring at nothing in particular. “You thought you had me trapped down here, didn’t you? You thought you could control me, that I would gladly help you in exchange for a few little morsels every now and then. That I’d even help you puppet the throne itself.”

“Kami protect us-!” exclaimed Furukane, and then the floor dropped out from under all of them.

Aymeric felt the most unpleasant slithering sensation under his feet, as if the floor had suddenly dissolved into thousands of snakes, sliding into nothingness. Achiyo’s coils tightened too late, and he slipped from her grasp. He caught a glimpse of the noble, dangling in mid-air – like a puppet – before he crashed into darkness.

For a moment, he could not see anything; somehow the light from the room above had been cut off. There were groans from all around him, from the samurai who had fallen down with him. “Lucia?”

“Here, ser,” she answered, and he felt her hand on his shoulder. “Look there!” The darkness was lifting ahead of them – parting, in a most peculiar way. Aymeric suddenly gasped as he saw the shroud that blocked the light was made of strands of hair, thick black hair so tightly packed that light could not pierce it. What new devilry was this?

And beyond the gap in the darkness was a dim light, coming down from above, which illuminated a beautiful woman. She was dressed in black and red with a golden obi, with crimson spider lilies in her ebony hair, and she beckoned them closer with a pale hand.

“Fury be with us,” Aymeric prayed.

Furukane was next to him, and he was pale. “Yotsuyu-sama-”

“Shut up,” said the woman. “I want to see these foreigners you’ve been whinging about for moons. Bring them to me.” She beckoned again, then took a breath from a long smoking pipe she held in her other hand.

“G-go on, then,” Furukane said, gesturing, and Aymeric crossed himself before straightening up to step into the light surrounding this Yotsuyu, Lucia close by his side. He had not sheathed his sword yet, though whether it would do any good he had yet to see.

He stared as he drew closer, for the woman’s long, inky-black hair was… he had seen some long hair at court, but her hair went on… and on… and on. Into the shadows – no, it was the shadows, enveloping the entire cathedral-sized chamber in a thick drapery of black strands.

She blew out her smoke in his face. “So you’re the one everyone is making a fuss about. I can see why.” She smiled with vermilion red lips. Her eyes were a pale gold colour, flat and lifeless. “You smell delicious. I’m going to enjoy you.”

He probably couldn’t negotiate with a… a witch? “Aymeric de Borel, ambassador of Ishgard. May I have your name, my lady?”

“So polite, even when you’re about to die,” she said, reaching out to caress his cheek with the end of her pipe. Lucia was restraining herself beside him; she would not attack before he gave an order to. “I am Yotsuyu, a demon of Doma. You are probably wondering why I’m in Hingashi. The answer to that… lies there, and now I shall be avenged on him.” She gestured carelessly, and Aymeric spun to see Furukane suddenly hauled into the air as if suspended from invisible threads – or very fine hair. One by one, each of the samurai was snatched up screaming, enveloped in invisible bonds, or thick whorls of black. Some of them tried to cut at the hair, but if it had any effect, there was too much hair to cut.

Yotsuyu looked up. “Your girlfriend is going crazy trying to get in. Hmm… I think I can oblige her… after a snack to regain my strength.” She reached out, and a random samurai swung within reach of her grasp. He was kicking and struggling, but Yotsuyu didn’t even seem to notice, baring sudden jagged teeth and sinking them into his throat. Aymeric shuddered at the samurai’s stricken cry and took a step back, raising Naegling to attack.

“Oh, none of that,” Yotsuyu drawled, dropping the dying samurai, her red lips stained redder with blood. She reached out, and Aymeric found he could not move, his arms and legs bound fast. Her hand, now tipped with long sharp nails, closed around his throat and his feet left the ground as she- her lower half swelled, with a horrible wriggling motion, and suddenly he looked down to see eight monstrous legs supporting the abdomen of a spider under her kimono hem. Well, this was more horrible than every other monster he’d seen in his life put together.

“Ser Aymeric!” cried Lucia in fear and panic, striking at the abomination. The spider flicked one of its legs and Lucia was sent flying into the wall, where coils of hair looped over her.

“Lucia!” he called back, fearful that she had been struck unconscious, or worse.

Yotsuyu’s upper half, still in human form, laughed at him cruelly. “Why so worried for her? Shouldn’t you be worried for yourself? I’m going to devour you in front of your little dragon, you know.”

She made a gesture, and the light brightened briefly – and then Achiyo blasted through the curtain of hair surrounding the chamber, shooting at Yotsuyu like an arrow, tearing the demon’s arm off. Aymeric fell to the ground, but even now he was not completely free. He swung Naegling – and swung again. Naegling was made of enchanted crystal, it ought to have made short work of mere hair, but it was like cutting through flexible steel. He had underestimated the threads’ sinister magic. They were dragging him back, inexorably, away from the demon.

Lady Achiyo was darting about overhead, her movements zig-zagging through the air like those of an enraged fish, but they were becoming sluggish as she, too, was enveloped in clinging strands. They tangled around her claws and tail and horns, and no matter how she thrashed, it seemed her own magic was not strong enough to break them quickly enough.

Yotsuyu seemed to have regrown her arm, and was dodging Lady Achiyo’s strikes with uncanny agility, slashing back with her own claws. “You’re so brave, fighting so hard for your little mortal. Tell you what – I’ll grant you something. You don’t have to watch him die.” Threads looped around the dragon’s throat, constricting. “I’ll take you out first.” The spider demon lunged, and bit at the dragon’s side. The dragon screamed, a horrible keening sound that made Aymeric’s heart clench painfully, for he thought he could hear Lady Achiyo’s human voice in it. And then the garrote tightened and the screaming dwindled into gurgling choking.

“Lady Achiyo!” he cried out to her, helpless; the more he struggled, the worse it became.

“Hold still, baka!” came a sudden murmur near his feet, and Aymeric jumped in surprise. A small red fox head peeked out of his coat, looking around, and then a small red fox only a fulm from its nose to its four tails popped out and ran up his arm to where he still gripped Naegling. “Ugh, mortals, always trying to brute-force their way out of things… Of course, she’s no better right now…”

Aymeric blinked. The voice was familiar. “…Rinyasu?”

“Oh, he’s not a complete dummy!” The fox did a backflip onto his shoulder as Naegling suddenly lit up in blue fire. “Well, go on, don’t just stand there!”

Aymeric flexed his wrist – and the strands binding his arm parted easily. A few more swings, and he was free – or so he thought, rushing forward only to be brought up with a jerk.

“Your coat!” hissed the fox, who had vanished somewhere. “Ditch the coat! It does nothing for your silhouette anyway!”

Aymeric hastily shrugged off his coat – what would armour do against a demon anyway? – and looked back and forth. Lucia was still stuck… but Lady Achiyo was dying.

“Don’t hesitate!” Lucia yelled at him. “Save her!”

He needed no second bidding, charging towards the spider and slashing at her legs. Yotsuyu jumped back with a yelp. “How did you- ohhh, that meddling kitsune! I’ll kill him!”

“Nyah, you’ll have to catch me first!” Rinyasu’s disembodied voice echoed through the chamber.

“Come out and fight, little beast!” Yotsuyu hissed, casting her threads this way and that. Aymeric sliced through the ones that fell near him.

“Noooo, I’m too scared! You don’t think a mere kitsune can fight such a powerful demon?”

Aymeric pressed his advantage. The demon hated fire, so he would hound her until he could drive her away from Lady Achiyo. Yotsuyu scrambled away from him with an undignified shriek, all eight legs skittering, and she scrambled up the wall to the ceiling. Lady Achiyo flumped heavily to the ground.

Aymeric cut all the hairs binding her body as quickly as he could, and knelt by her head. “Lady Achiyo! Are you all right? Can you hear me?” Her side was oozing blood and something darker, something that bubbled against her glistening scales.

Her eyes flickered open and she lifted her head, shaking it in a disoriented fashion – then she clambered to her feet, taking in the situation.

Yotsuyu glared balefully at them from the corner of the ceiling. “So you gave me a fright. That’s fine. I have other ways to get what I want.” She tugged at some threads, and the dead samurai in the middle of the room tottered to his feet like a marionette, raising his katana to attack.

Lady Achiyo hissed at him, coiling around Aymeric again, and a sudden jet of water smashed the samurai against the wall. Aymeric tapped her shoulder. “Ah, Lady Achiyo, I cannot fight like this.”

She grumbled but uncoiled from around him. Now the still-living samurai were dragged forward, manipulated like puppets. Furukane, wheezing in fear, dug his heels in ineffectually. “Please – we’re not trying to attack you!”

Even Lucia was being pulled towards them, holding her sword out awkwardly, scowling ferociously. “Ser Aymeric, ignore us! Find a way to slay the demon!”

Even with his fire-blessed sword, he could not cut all of the hair that bound them. How could he approach the creature lurking on the ceiling? He was not Estinien, to jump that high. “Lady Achiyo, if you can bring me up there, I shall strike it down.”

She cast a quick glance up at the distance, and he wasn’t entirely certain what he was expecting but he wasn’t quite expecting her to slide under him, between his legs like an eel, and take off from the ground with him carried on her neck. He hastily grabbed at her horns, sword flailing as he tried not to drop it, but Yotsuyu was coming in range rapidly. “Saint Valeroyant, lend me your strength,” he murmured. “Saint Daniffen, lend me your aim.”

“No… stop it!” was all the demon had time to scream before he cut her head from her body, severing her hair with it. The giant spiderous form peeled off the wall and thudded to the ground, where it burst into a thousand smaller spiders. Lady Achiyo spun in a tight loop, her jaws open wide, and a wind burst out from her that cleared all the hair from the chamber, brightening it considerably and releasing all the people still on the ground. Lucia gave a satisfied cry and began stabbing and stomping spiders; the samurai followed suit. The nightmare was ended.

Lady Achiyo carefully returned to the ground and he dismounted from her neck. He glanced at Naegling, still engulfed in flames.

“Ah, let me get that for you,” Rinyasu said, stepping forward in Miqo’te form, and with a touch, the flames went out.

Aymeric sheathed his sword and bowed to the… kitsune. “Thank you for your aid. You saved us all.”

“I guess I did, didn’t I?” Rinyasu put his hands behind his head and turned away with a self-satisfied look. “Well, come on, you lot, let’s get out of here.” He whistled, and a bright portal appeared in the stony wall of the cavern.

The samurai needed no further encouragement. Furukane stopped momentarily. “You… Go in peace this day, Aymeric of Ishgard. I shall not stop my campaign to rid Hingashi of outsiders… but I owe you my life.”

Progress? Aymeric bowed to him. “Go in peace, Furukane-dono. Though I would suggest not using demonic aid towards your goal. Face me honourably, or not at all.” Furukane scowled, but left without argument.

“Come on, hurry it up,” Rinyasu called, bored. “You too, knight lady.”

“I shall not leave without-” Lucia protested, folding her arms.

“He’s coming, all right?” Rinyasu said, putting his hands on Lucia’s back and pushing her towards the portal. “Give him a minute, for kami’s sake.”

And then they were alone, him and the dragon that still hovered, a few yalms away, as if shy. She stared him in the eyes, and he saw… uncertainty, anxiety…

He stepped forward to her and embraced her neck, her large square jaw resting on his shoulder, burying his hands in that fluffy mane. “Ah, Lady Achiyo, do not fear me now that I know your secret. I may not fully understand, but I love you still, and you are beautiful – just as beautiful as a dragon as you are as a woman.”

Slowly, she looped around him, holding him gently, mindful of her strength. Her claws were six ilms long but they held him delicately. He heard – was that a purr, or a choked sob? Though small, it reverberated through her and through him, and he held her tighter.

There was a shimmer and a glow, and she shrank in his arms, down to mortal size. Her head rested against his chest, and his hands were full of long, silken, silver-green hair fallen from her hairpins. Her furisode sleeves were in ripped tatters, but her small hands embraced him carefully. She seemed… cooler to the touch than a normal human, something he had not noticed before – he had never touched her before. He bent down to rest his chin on her head, and breathed her in. She smelled of clean air and clouds and a hint of dewy moss.

“How can you still love me?” she whispered. “I am not human. I am a monster to your people.”

“You are a goddess to yours,” he answered. “How can you love me, a mere mortal?”

“Spirits are no more infallible than mortals,” she said into his chest. “We have our own weaknesses and limitations. It would not be the first time a spirit has fallen for a beautiful mortal with a pure heart. No, I was afraid – even after Rinyasu and Chuchupa told me your words – that you could never love a dragon. I enjoyed our time together when you did not know. I did not want it to change.”

She sounded so small, and he leaned back to look into her eyes. “Why should it change? You have a heart and a soul that has touched mine, and I crave nothing more than to spend my days with you.”

She stared up at him. There were marks on her throat from where she had been strangled, and they made his heart clench. “You do not know what you are asking. If you choose me, I will not be able to let you go. How unbearable it would be, to know that your fleeting mortal life is slipping by in a place I cannot reach?”

“I see.” He would have to think about that, because he still loved Ishgard, had not intended that he would never see his homeland again. “Then I shall make no oaths to you… yet. You cannot leave Hingashi?”

“No – well, not that I have ever tried.” She looked thoughtful. “For you, I could try. It would be dangerous, at least, to be separated from my stream. But to see the homeland you speak of with such love and reverence would be a delight I have not thought of in all my life.”

“How old are you?” he asked, releasing her from his embrace and offering her his arm to lead her to the exit. “If it is not horribly discourteous to ask. Ah-! You are still wounded!” Her furisode was drenched on the left side with blood and venom.

She waved off his concern. “When I can bathe in my stream, this form shall heal. Do not be troubled.”

“By your leave.” He was troubled, anyway, and took a liberty in scooping her up into his arms. She gasped in surprise and shock. “I would not see you exert any effort more than necessary. Allow me to do this small thing for you.”

She slowly relaxed into his arms, her short Au Ra tail winding about his waist. “Not in all my 3000 years has anyone treated me with such indignity. …I like it.”

She was blushing, and that set his eyes sparkling. “You are thrice as old as my city. And no one has ever carried you like a princess?” He stepped through the portal and found himself transported to one of the gardens in the palace. Lucia and Rinyasu were waiting for him, and Aymeric nodded to Lucia. She took in the sight of him carrying Lady Achiyo, and hurried up to them.

“I shall call a healer-”

“No need,” Lady Achiyo said. “Do not worry, Lucia-dono. I must return to my home, and I shall be healed there. In truth… I do begin to feel the venom’s effects, and I am glad you are carrying me, Aymeric-sama. I could still walk – could still fly, especially if I had to return home swiftly, but I shall allow you to help me.” She gave him a shy look. “I think it makes him happy too.”

Lucia smiled. “He’s never happier than when he can do something for another person. You have come to an understanding, then?”

“Not yet,” Aymeric said. “There is so much to speak on. But we have begun.”

Rinyasu clapped his hands. “Now will you stop pining over the handsome foreigner?”

“Never,” Lady Achiyo retorted.

“Fair, I suppose,” Rinyasu said. “He did do a much better job in this fight. And he’s serious about it.”

“Shall I ready an escort for immediate departure to the mountains?” Lucia asked.

“Yes,” Aymeric said. “Lady Achiyo, will you be able to endure the journey, or would you rather fly ahead and make yourself well? I would not see you suffer needlessly.”

She was torn for a moment. “I could endure it… but rather I would wish to make my home ready for you. If you can do without me for a while, I shall meet you in the place I always do.”

“Go then, and I shall come to you as swiftly as I may,” Aymeric said, setting her down upon the ground. For a moment, she swayed, clutched at him. But then she shimmered and shone, and then a dragon swirled before their eyes. A tiny fox bounded onto her back, settling itself behind her horns, and she sprang into the sky, sliding away like a wisp of cloud.

Aymeric watched until he could no longer see her, then turned back to the palace – and suddenly broke into a run. “Flowers!”

“Eh- what?” Lucia hurried to keep up with him. “Flowers?”

“She said the dragon would like flowers!” He grinned at her. “I must to the markets before they close – you summon the knights!”

 

Rinyasu was waiting for them in that place where they had always met before, in the form of a fox-headed human. It was a bit startling, and the knights were certainly surprised. His demeanour was a good deal warmer than it had been. “Hail the love-sick Ishgardian dork!” He bowed low to Aymeric. He had four tails.

“I beg your pardon,” Lucia chided him. “I thought you enjoyed romance?”

“I do,” said the kitsune. “Until the romance is well and truly established, and then I can make fun of it.” He grinned. “This way, the lady is waiting for you.”

A strange brown-furred creature like a cross between a raccoon and a dog popped out on Rinyasu’s other side, dressed in garish yellow. “So ye came. Good. Rinyasu and I was gettin’ ready to curse ye if ye left our Hime-sama in the lurch.”

“Since when should I ever abandon Lady Achiyo, Chuchupa-dono?” Aymeric asked. “But I-”

He stopped, for Rinyasu had made an elaborate wave, and suddenly a part of the forest that had been pathless and nondescript… wasn’t, anymore. An ancient stone road led up from the main road, slathered in rich green moss, and arched over the stream. Waymarkers for snow stood beside it, and lamps, some of them broken with age.

He heard a mutter from a couple knights about fairyland, and that brought to mind tales of stepping into supernatural realms where one day of fairy time was equal to a year of mortal time, tales where the mortals were so enthralled by the wonders they saw that they could never leave, did not want to leave.

Rinyasu laughed. “You think us hiding this is for your benefit? Listen, folks, if we didn’t hide this path we’d have anybody coming to bother us. We don’t want you stinky mortals, definitely not for hundreds of years. We want ’em to go away. You’re just here for a visit, remember.”

In any case, Aymeric had pledged his honour to visit Lady Achiyo, and he dismounted Nocturne, leading the chocobo up the trail without hesitation. His entourage followed.

The road grew more and more beautiful the farther he climbed, the little stream dancing beside the path, trickling down terraces dotted with tiny flowers. At length he looked up, as the road came above the trees, and he saw a grand Hingan house with sweeping eaves, under a looming shoulder of the mountain, with silver waterfalls streaming down about it, and great lotus-filled ponds at its feet, surrounded by small willows and cherry and plum trees. It had a low wall and a great square archway in front, and Lady Achiyo standing beneath the arch, regal as an empress, young as the spring, smiling at him.

He pulled the flowers from Nocturne’s saddlebag, hastening forward to her with his arms filled. “Thank you for saving my life… and bringing me so much joy.” He bowed with a smile he could not restrain. “I know sakura are your favourite,” he said. “But they are not in season. Please accept these in their stead.”

She looked a little overwhelmed at the floral abundance, and maybe he had overestimated how much she could hold, golden chrysanthemums and white lilies and pale blue hydrangeas, violet irises and soft pink roses. “Th-thank you. Th-this is…” She blinked and recovered her poise, burying her nose in the flowers and inhaling long. “Your offering is most acceptable. And…” She handed off the flowers, with some effort, to Rinyasu, and took from her obi a necklace with a glimmering, perfectly round disc hanging from it. “Thank you for saving my life. Please accept this humble gift.”

He took it in wonder. “Is this one of your scales? It is beautiful.”

“It will keep you safe,” she said. “People of both worlds will know that you are under my protection. Now please, come into my halls and let me entertain you and your knights.” She raised her voice a little. “I remember your fairytales, and I assure you, three nights here will be identical to three nights in Bukyo – or even in Ishgard. Be at ease.” Aymeric glanced back and saw Ser Constaint looking a bit embarrassed.

But she took his hand and led him into the castle.

 

“May I ask,” Aymeric said as they walked together in her garden after dinner, “you are a dragon, and a woman, and… a stream? Are they all… real?”

“A strange question,” she said lightly. “Of course they are all real. I am a spirit, the spirit of the stream, and I took the form of a dragon when my consciousness awoke, as most waters do. And when I saw mortals, and learned to take their shape, this form you see before you became real as well. But perhaps… the stream is the most true. I am the dragon of the stream, and it is me, and I am it.”

“I see,” he said. Fascinating. Her cool hand was tucked into the crook of his arm, and she made three steps for every one of his. He had a brief wonder how she would look in an Ishgardian gown – or in knight’s armour. “And what do we do now?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, peering up at him. Her eyes seemed to reflect the moon like a mirror.

“I love you,” he said. “I love Hingashi. But I still love Coerthas, and Ishgard, and my friends whom I left behind with the expectation that I would not be gone forever. I would like to visit my homeland on occasion. I would have you with me, if it were possible. But you said you would not be able to let me go. And if your true self is here, I can well believe it will be difficult for you to come with me.”

“For you, I would try,” she said softly. “I know I can cross the length and breadth of Hingashi, chasing the clouds, dancing in the rain. Yet I have never tried to go beyond that. I never had a reason to.” She drew back a little. “I know I am asking a lot of you, things that I cannot pledge in return. I ask you to give up your homeland, and I do not know if I can even leave mine. I ask you to share your mortal life with me, and mine is unending as far as I know. It is not fair.”

“Are you trying to dissuade me, Lady Achiyo?” he asked.

“I only want you to decide with a clear understanding,” she said. “All I have I would share with you – I can share it with you as long as you are with me. I would give you my love, a life as long as mine, children, knowledge, magic, anything I can give to you is yours and it is a joy to give. But only within the reach of my strength, and I do not know if I can reach to Ishgard. Even if I go there. Even with that.” She tapped the dragon scale that now hung around his neck.

“The future is uncertain for spirits as it is for mortals, then,” he said, and knelt before her, clasping her hand in both of his. “Let’s start by taking one day at a time. We’ll learn about each other, and what we can do together. We are stronger together, that much is clear. I already want so much to stay with you, Achiyo my beloved. So please wait for me.”

“I will wait,” she said, a blush dusting her cheeks. “I am very good at waiting.”

“As am I,” he said. “But I am a little impatient too. May I kiss you?”

She looked blank. “What is a ‘kiss’?”

Clearly he had not told her enough fairytales with kisses in them. He took her hands gently and showed her, guiding her down to touch her soft lips with his own. She trembled at his touch, and he drew back a little to see moonlight wrapped in seafoam staring wide-eyed at him – and she surged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him in for more. She was flickering in his arms, new horns lengthening from the top of her head. She couldn’t keep her usual serene control, and it was adorable.

“Oh,” she said, when she pulled away again. “Your love is intoxicating – have a care, or I really shall not be able to let you go.” She turned a little, tugging at his hand to pull him to his feet. Her eyes were laughing, and her hair was floating around her. “Would you like to go flying with me?”

He smiled. “I should like nothing more, my lady.”

 

Author’s notes: this was a fun diversion! But now I’m horrifically behind on building my XIV Dark Knight outfit for Halloween ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

If this is your first time meeting my characters, Achiyo’s hair isn’t that long, it’s normally shoulder-blade-length but here it’s, you know, Heian-period court-length. I’ve also adjusted her personality a tiny bit, because a 3000 year old spirit should be pretty self-assured compared to a 30 year old doubt-wracked hero, and also because a trope that mildly appeals to me is the “possessive dragon lover” (not too much, we’re not going yandere here). (I also like the trope of a supernatural creature being so much in love that they have difficulty holding onto their mortal form.) I’ve been thinking about what she’d be like as an actual dragon for a while, and hopefully I’ve got that out of my system because it turns out in the end, I like regular non-dragon doubt-wracked hero Achiyo over in the main fic better.

I was going to put in a bit where they worry about whether a river-dragon-spirit is a primal, but XIV has plenty of nature spirits that are not primals, and the pacing felt like it was getting bogged down. Also please ignore the fact that canonically XIV dragons are aliens from another dimension.

I don’t know that Ishardians would use the sign of the cross because that is Christian and they don’t have all that crucifixion stuff (afaik), but it seemed like a good symbol to get the vibe across without getting stuck in making things up and explaining them.