#;;musing: lahabrea

[aetherstories]

@milesducemdominus liked for a random muse starter call! The fancy blue dice said: 1 - Lahabrea

"Come in." Offers the voice, and for a moment, briefly and likely unnoticed, he sounds more like the professor he once was than the shadow of corruption he's become, over the years.

It might be because he's hunched over a heavy tome, borrowed from the library of the Holy See, and for a moment his mind was elsewhere and elsewhen both, before eyes hidden under a heavy cloak remember where they are, and he straightens once more.

"The Archbishop will not be joining us today." He tells the Lord Commander. "He is otherwise engaged."

And under Igeyorhm's watchful gaze, which means Lahabrea needs not worry overmuch.

[sunnythanalan]

Spoilers for ARR, Endwalker, Shadowbringers and the new short story Days Gone By, Days Yet to Come (but only vaguely)

Replaying ARR as I am wont to do, I thought about how the three unsundered went about trying to cause the next rejoining and how their ascian forms are a sort of twisted mirror image of what we learn is their duty/purpose in Elpis. Their passions? The dark side of it, if you will.

Lahabrea taught the peoples of Eorzea the art of summoning, aka creation magic - the very thing he was tasked to guard in Pandæmonium and that led to his personality split and subsequent rather gruesome divorce from his ex-wife.

Then there's Elidibus whose main focus is to create heroes, protectors - he appeals to their hearts (and him being the heart of Zodiark) sends them forth to protect their people against whatever villain he creates for them and to sacrifice themselves in the process. Like he sacrificed himself.

Then there's Emet Selch who creates empires. Who travels. Who, to his own admittance, does exactly what Azem used to do; he tries to get to know the people, become one of them, only to fail miserably time and again and that fuels his hatred. Knowing who Hades used to be, why did he try so incredibly hard to become more like Azem?

Much later: So I found this text in my drafts from ages ago and after having read Days Gone By, Days Yet To Come I got my answer didn't I? The fuck Creative Business Unit III, do you do this to me for? Why does it fit together in a way that hurts so much?

[lights-flickering-flame]

Wren can't look Thancred in the eyes after the whole Lahabrea thing. Mostly because he's nervous Thancred will know that he knows Lahabrea. Plus, it freaked the poor boy out having to fight that man. Also being called a traitor because you know, the kid was from the same star-

[jqupohtia]

Apokalypsis

When she leaves Elpis, Venat does not tell Phaethon her plan. She knows that what she must do would be particularly ghastly to someone whose soul has nearly cracked into pieces once, who has dealt with the pain of it every day since, who is a healer first before a fighter. Even if it was a piece of himself, standing proud and confident and determined despite the fragile shattered thing he was, that showed her the path she must take, she cannot risk him turning against her before she can even prepare, and so he is left in the dark.

Perhaps it is fate, or just twisted luck, that he would never have the chance to anyway.

Phaethon does not agree with the Convocation’s proposal. Not completely. But Azem does not defect from the convocation. He screams, he weeps, he rages, and he leaves, but he does not abandon them.

The Traveler is called away alongside the Contender, because the situation is getting worse and both the Words of Azem and Words of Nabriales have called for for their aid in a city not far from Amaurot, where rampant creations wreak havoc. It is his duty to help the people, and he has already seen so much death and horror, but he will not shy away from returning to it if it means saving more lives, so that there may be more left behind when they sacrifice themselves. When he sacrifices himself.

That is his condition for helping to create a god. That when they return, if there’s no better idea, he goes with the people sacrificed. Not as Zodiark’s heart, because there is too much despair and horror in him to not corrupt the God they will create, but to stand with those willing to fuel it. Some call it a noble choice, others misguided and foolish. He knows that it is cowardice. He cannot bear to face those left behind, nor those they'd ask to go in their stead.

But he doesn’t return.

Emet-Selch and Lahabrea also leave behind the endless debates and planning that have continued in their absence, and go to assist Nabriales and Azem when they both fail to return for several days. The carnage they find is horrific. Bodies litter the streets, and every moment fills Emet-Selch's senses with the steady stream of those who Return too soon. A devastatingly powerful creation runs rampant, and they find themselves focusing more on evacuating than defeating it, given the battered state they find Nabriales in.

It is only those three who return to the Convocation's chambers, once what citizens they can save are brought to Amaurot. When asked, they only say that Azem won't be helping.

Emet-Selch does not mention that so much of Azem's aether was tied up within the great beast destroying that ruined city that it took them hours to find him, chasing dead ends.

Lahabrea does not mention he found Azem shielding tiny bodies, shattered to the point he did not need soul sight to see the damage done to the Traveler's soul.

Nabrieles does not mention he witnessed Azem’s fear and anger and sorrow manifest as the very beast that is now heading towards Amaurot, nor that he now fears himself and the others around him. That if something is not done, and fast, it has been proven even one of their number can become a danger to their people.

They do not mention the figure in white robes who watches on as one of the Star's protectors is carried away, in no state to protect any longer.

What they do say is that there is no choice, and no time. They must summon Zodiark without Azem. As thirteen.

J'qupoh Tia survives his battle with Lahabrea not because of any special skill or quality of being Hydaelyn's champion, but because of a moment of hesitation. One brief moment where Lahabrea sees not the broken form of the mortal who has proven a nuisance in his plans to restore his God, but another's form. That of a man that has haunted him every moment he has worked behind these Scion's backs, whose vague likeness has made him take unnecessary risks. A man who had wormed his way past the walls he put up in the wake of Athena's betrayal his God's disrupted ascension the cutting away of what he saw as a threat to his duty to the Star. Who had fallen in doing his own duty, lain twisted and battered near beyond recognition, but not completely. Not quite.

That hesitation is long enough for Hydaelyn to interfere once again, pouring everything she can spare and more to keep her Champion alive. To restore life before that stubborn soul can leave, not so he can continue the duty he has been Chosen for, not because she recognized him as the one to find her in Elpis all those millenia ago. She saves him out of guilt, as an apology, for doubting him and not being by his side when he need her Before.

In that Light that pours life back into the Warrior's mangled form, Lahabrea sees Phaethon's face illuminated for one awful, undeniable moment. It is grief and rage over being betrayed again that drives him harder to destroy the Warrior of Light in the coming days.

Nabriales did not truly fear whatever trick the Scions had come up with to defeat him. Nothing they could do could truly end an immortal being, and even this white auracite would not be enough with their meager aether.

Or so he thought. When the second mortal woman, already weakened, sacrifices herself, his fear begins.

It grows stronger as he looks back at Hydaelyn's champion, and sees the rage, grief, and fear on his face, and recognizes it. Remembers, in ways the memory crystal he was bestowed could not give, the moment he saw that face twisted like that before, and feared death as he never had before.

It's a particularly cruel twist of fate that Emet-Selch's memories get away from him once again, when he shows J'qupoh Tia the fate of Amaurot. That it is the beast born from Phaethon's despair, high above the Star with a view the man nearly broke himself to see, that is his shard's final foe. It is an especially cruel twist that J'qupoh is able to recreate the worst of it's abilities so easily, and turn it against Emet-Selch once again.

Desperation, terror, and sorrow as he tried to save his people from an apocolypse brought about Phaethon's end.

Apokalypsis brought Emet-Selch's.

[dragoon-mid-jump]

Fools, Lahabraying before a god!

[distortiondenizen]

I'm just realizing I've ended up out-olding my eldest muse: It used to be Lahabrea (from FFXIV), who was sixty-two... thousand years old, literally older than dust in his game.

But Fathom is literally older than time.

[aetherstories]

Open starter!

"I assure you." Fourchenault spoke, frown almost thunderous. "We would know it, if any members of the Forum had been... as you say, taken over."

[azems-familiar]

"where have you been?" for the question prompts bc of the recent discord shenanigans :3c

It has been some time since his last trip to the Source. Emet-Selch would return more often, but he has a job to do now that Mitron has gone and gotten himself corrupted into a sin eater, and the First’s balance is delicate. Maintaining it enough to provoke the Rejoining at a moment’s notice while not letting it fall to the Flood is tricky, even if in practice most of his time is spent waiting or pestering the Exarch. Not to mention that if he dares wander off, Elidibus will have his head - the Emissary has yet to forgive him for sleeping through Lahabrea’s death. But the situation in the Source must be regularly assessed, he has his grandson to puppet, and Elidibus to remain in tenuous contact with, and thus he travels.

That the Black Rose weapon has been unearthed and revamped is an excellent choice, he must admit - and it means he needs to begin further encouraging the First towards stasis and complacency, letting the balance fall. It will only be a matter of time until the Eorzean Alliance’s campaign pushes Garlemald to a point where Varis will have no choice but to release the gas, and then…well. The Ardor will continue and Emet-Selch will leave this long era of his own quiet stasis behind, with no regrets whatsoever. He will ensure there are no regrets.

He cannot afford any more of them, if he is to survive this.

But being gone from the First is irritating for its own reasons, mostly because he simply has no way of knowing how much time has passed there. As of late, its time stream has been much faster than the Source’s, so in the few days he has been here much longer will inevitably have passed, but there is not enough consistency to truly guess, and he has left much undone. Plans he needs to begin to implement, for one, and for two…

This really should have been his second priority, he muses to himself as he wanders through Syrcus Tower’s upper halls, humming idly to himself - a song he’d overheard on the Garlean radio while in the palace, popular with the younger crowd, apparently. His comfortable enmity with the Exarch is meant to be a distraction as much as it is a regular interrogation - though he has spent much less time interrogating the man as of late. The secrets he holds are enticing, but Emet-Selch has plenty of time to draw them out, and all the patience of an immortal…and their teatime sessions are pleasant. He has, too, recently enjoyed the presence of the Exarch’s adopted grandchild, though he has no particular reason to be soft on her, pale shade that she is. She is merely…an engaging diversion.

(He will not care about a Sundered child again.)

Read on AO3.

[aetherstories]

No need for dramatics, and there's a dark eyebrow raised at the wording, before the Speaker nods. Formal as the current Lahabrea might be, he is not so arrogant that he will demand respect as the current Pashtarot does, for all that meeting concern with a dismissal is not something he's particularly fond of.

"It is hardly dramatics when we are well aware of the creatures Pandaemonium houses." Is all he points out. Tone even, tone steady... and even steely. Because some things must still be said.

"I expect all the necessary... paperwork regarding the incident has been completed?"

Must he send someone to Elpis to see that it is handled, or have the arrangements done already? Because it has been a long time since he has walked Elpis, but there are some in Pandaemonium who deserve the chance to visit, despite the task before them.

@aetherstories asked: Koios, is that ... blood ? - From Lahabrea

"--hmm?" A brow raises, gaze raising from the vast expanse of biological plans and blueprints to gaze over a shoulder toward his unexpected visitor. Palms, leaning against his desk, claw fingers inward ere straightening his back - regarding company with no small amount of idle annoyance. Koios detested disturbances, of any kind.

The mention of blood had him gaze around, double checking paperwork and the like for any marks before he looked at himself: blood having dried down an arm and around a few of his fingers:

"--some variety of fiend clawed me while travelling back through Elpis. I simply haven't tended to it yet, no need for dramatics."

[lights-flickering-flame]

'I was aiming for Lahabrea....' He signs and then shrugs. Thordan kills him in stead. 'oh wait, that awful old man just killed another awful old man.'

[kootiepatra]

#FFxivWrite2024 - Day 16: Third-rate

Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus were taking a quick break, the former nursing a growing headache, and the latter lost in thought. Hermes required time alone to gather himself. And much to Emet-Selch’s relief, Azem’s vexing familiar was off somewhere with Hermes’ latest pet project. Hopefully they were keeping each other out of trouble—or at least entertained. It left the two envoys from Amaurot some time to take a breather and consider what all they had seen.

Interviewing and assessing the potential new Fandaniel was never going to be the easiest of errands, Emet-Selch thought, but it was certainly never supposed to be this frustrating .

That Emet-Selch’s patience was being stretched thin was evidenced by his increasing irritation at the creatures meandering Elpis’s fields. He stopped in his tracks, agog, as one especially peculiar creation tottered by—it looked like a ball of moss, but with a beak, and a small puddle of water balanced precariously on a leaf above its head.

“What is that? ” he asked.

“Charming, isn’t it?” Hythlodaeus smiled.

“Do not tell me you approved this concept.”

Hythlodaeus chuckled. “‘Tis the only way it would appear on this isle, my dear friend. Unless you suppose it has spontaneously popped into being. Now, wouldn’t that be exciting?”

“You know what I mean,” Emet-Selch scowled. “First the ambystoma, and now this? What even is the point of it?”

“... ‘Point?’” Hythlodaeus asked innocently.

“Yes, point . Purpose. Reason for existence. Need I elaborate further?” Emet-Selch folded his arms and frowned. “I cannot fathom why, when we have geniuses on our star of the caliber of Lahabrea, turning out concepts as awe-inspiring as Ifrita, you are also simultaneously approving things like… like… a sentient marimo on tiptoe.”

“Oh, come now. The creature is harmless.”

Emet-Selch sighed loudly. “Harmless it may be, but what good does it do? Why bother with it at all?”

“A strange question,” Hythlodaeus mused. “Should it not be sufficient that ‘the point’ is that it is pleasing? It is proving a real conversation-starter, at the very least.”

Emet-Selch’s eyes flashed slightly. “I swear, it seems like you will just let absolutely anyone with delusions of competence submit a concept to your desk.”

“That is more or less the shape of things, yes.”

“And evidently you never fail to approve their applications.”

“Oh, you are mistaken ,” Hythlodaues laughed. “I do. Do I ever . The rejection file is… quite substantial. And entertaining.”

“Based on WHAT?” Emet-Selch demanded, gesturing accusingly at the leafy creature once more.

Hythlodaeus lit up at the subject and began counting the reasons off on his fingers. “Being too near to a duplication of a previously approved concept, for one. Or if it has gaping holes in the idea—crucial details that have been left too vague to bring into realization. For sentient beings, we reject anything that has a design flaw fundamentally incompatible with life. Or if it poses an obvious and insurmountable threat to other established beings of the star. That sort of thing.”

“Honestly. Have you never considered how much more streamlined things could be at your office if you employed a roster of people who actually proved that they knew what they’re doing? Those with a history of work that shows they grasp the fundamentals of both aesthetics and practicality?”

Hythlodaeus grinned. “My, that is an idea. Such wisdom simply proves why it was only right that you should be elevated to the Convocation, and I should maintain my humble post at the Bureau.”

“As you will, then,” Emet-Selch said begrudgingly. “Just don’t come crying to me when your submissions file is overflowing with inane nonsense.”

“Duly noted,” Hythlodaeus replied.

[sarastuss]

please tell me what your five favorite things about sarastus are <3 thank you

chuckles back at it again with a fun ask! this was such a sweet thing to send, so thank you friend! ✨💛 i was meant to response to this a long ago but then came holidays &. traveling, oof.

1. first things first ; i love f.fxiv from the bottom of my heart. this is truly my favorite piece of media, &. of course in the same way, i am very attached to the oc i have created. writing her is one of the best decisions i have ever made, because i do dare say it ; writing her is the most fun i've had what it comes to writing a muse! sorry felicia my beloved, you are a close second but it is the ffxiv media for me. 2. a hero, but not one that sees the world as black &. white. she harbors a lot of sympathy towards her enemies, &. can understand their point of view. it is never that straightforward what it comes to conflicts ; at least not always. whenever facing ascians, though it is arguable that lahabrea was one of those that was furthest away from what he used to be, twisted by time &. slight tempering effects zodiark had ; even though at the time she did not remember, after killing him, she felt strange about it. ( this had been a colleague of hers in the convocation. ) shadowbringers - arc especially, showcases perfectly that the ascians have an understandable reason to do what they do, but still, the scions, nor sarastus herself can not let that happen. regardless of the sympathy she feels, &. how much it might break her to follow her duty ; she does, even if it means killing those she once considered close friends. at that point, too far gone down the path. she does what is needed, no matter how hard it is for her personally, even if she would prefer to save everyone. 3. speaking of which ; i absolutely love those moments sarastus goes all out. i have always said i do not downplay the op - level she is at, but it is so good to get those moments in - game where she absolutely wreaks havoc, one woman army in battles. showing why her enemies fear her, &. call her devastatingly brutal. i am just someone who adores strong women, i guess. that being said ; more threads with with enemy dynamics!! 4. but following that ; i like how she can form genuine bonds very quickly. assuming you are not an evil person with bad intentions, you get to see that golden hearted hero, who would die for you even though she has known you for five minutes. those people she comes across upon her journeys, she remembers each &. every one of them. ( even recognizing faces from crowds that she comes across again. ) though there is a certain loneliness that comes with her duty, with being the strongest ; it is with the help of these people in many different ways that she gets more strength to go on, &. the fact that though there are certain heights only she can reach, there are always people that are willing to give her a push if she needs. she is always genuine with people, yes, even with enemies, she does not hide anything, &. i think it is both beautiful &. brave. 5. her story. okay, i am the one who made my own little twists to it of course ; but i am very proud with what i came up with! while the twist of her being the one &. the same person than the one lived in the world before the sundering, ( though slightly affected herself, her soul shattering to one other half resulting in ardbert ) is both a minor detail considering i otherwise follow the very canon storyline, since she has little next to no other backgrounds before the ARR - arc, since that is when she awakes ... it is also very huge twist. &. honestly? it adds so much more to the story, &. it has been super interesting to explore, both while i played through the game &. in my head went over the minor changes to dialogue / reactions that would happen, it has also been super fun to explore that in writing!! not only that, but i think sarastus as a character is very inspirational, as are many of the characters in the game. no matter how much she faces, even if through kicking &. screaming, she rises again &. forges on.

[dutysmith]

"I don't need magic to make this work. It is simply a machine that scans the area. Its very common within rich households."

So he copied the design and implimented it , did a tech course a few months ago since he had nothing else to do. God, almost a year in this place already.

"I only supplied the parts, everything else is a science."

He creates a basketball on the spot and hands it to the robot to further shoot hoops.

Grampa here can be lying or....okay fine. He not actually gonna brain grandpa over just making a robot for throwing basket balls.

God knows hobbies needed to keep a old mind sane. Seongjun lower his blade.

"....what you used for sensor? The city zap most of everyone powerful toys no? With your cult like robes and a lack of magi tech store. You have to combine your ability with the tech in this city to make something right?"

Seongjun observe the machine. His dealing with Hero of Transformation don't make him a enginnering major but it does make him capable of at least understand the basic of how this machine works.

Is....is gramps bored?

[dragoon-mid-jump]

U’reksh and Claudien when they first meet trying to figure out why the other is so damn familiar vs post-Pandaemonium jokingly calling each other “Nephew” and “Uncle”, respectively, after learning about Ares and Erichthonios’ relationship.

[lambs-rest]

Nothing Unsaid

Track: Naught May Endure But Mutability – HOYO-MiX (YT)

——————–

She did snore.

Really, quite a lot.

At first it had been distracting, but the longer Lahabrea continued to talk over it, the more it fell into part of the background noise for Elidibus. He still couldn’t fathom how the Speaker had managed to endure years of this kind of life. Lahabrea had never been one to take up an alias or a facade for very long at all. He stole whatever face he needed to get the job done and he did it as quickly and efficiently as possible before shedding the mortal shell. Masquerading as a mortal had always disgusted him.

Yet here he was, forced into a body of his own. Forced to be that which he loathed.

Elidibus’ first thought was to pity him.

But as the night wore on and their conversation deepened, as Lahabrea naturally moved to sate his thirst or shift in his seat, to yawn and blink sleepily in an attempt to fend off his fatigue – fatigue! Imagine that! - Elidibus found that pity was not truly what he felt.

He held Lahabrea’s blue crystal in his palm and smiled faintly.

“I may be overstepping my bounds in saying this, but I am proud of you, Lahabrea.”

That made the Speaker’s tired eyes pop wide open. “…Proud?” he repeated incredulously before looking around the room. “Of me? Of this? Are you sure?”

Elidibus chuckled as Lahabrea made a show of gesturing about before he handed the man back his gemstone. “Yes. I know it sounds absurd, but you have truly overcome some extraordinary biases to be able to endure this, as you put it. I’ve wondered why I could not observe you when I looked back upon the records of Emet-Selch’s faux Amaurot…and I now believe that he knowingly shielded you from my sight. He knew I would not be able to understand…”

Lahabrea’s mouth twisted and his gaze fell to the dark purple crystal that lay alongside its multicoloured brethren. “It seems he knew much that he kept to himself.” His expression deepened into a scowl. “What I wouldn’t give for the chance to yell at him a bit.”

Elidibus laughed, until a loud snore from across the room cut over him. They both stilled and looked over to the bed where Granye lay fast asleep, waiting to see if they had disturbed her rest.

She continued her slumber without even so much as a pause.

“…I never expected her to come up with a method of hiding you so thoroughly from us.”

“That makes three of us. Emet-Selch had no idea I was alive-!” he was interrupted by a tremendous yawn which his covered with the back of his hand. “Ugh, excuse me. He had no idea I was alive until he personally saw me here, on the First.”

Elidibus hummed absently, eyes lingering on Lahabrea. He was sagging on the table, leaning heavy on his elbow, hand propping up his head. The very picture of exhaustion. For some reason it deeply amused Elidibus to see him so informal.

“Fatigue seems like an utterly terrible thing to wrestle.” he remarked lightly.

Lahabrea curled his lip. “It’s not nearly as awful as swimming.”

“Swimming?” Elidibus crowed in delight. “Ah, but of course. You have to manually move through the water, don’t you?”

“It’s dreadful. Your limbs take so much strength to move, and I shan’t even begin on the effort of holding ones breath underwater!” He yawned again suddenly.

“Lahabrea,” Elidibus said gently, before he could apologise again, “you must also take your rest, is that not so?”

The Speaker defied his epithet and fell quiet. He looked away, almost guiltily.

“I will still be here come the morning. I may be frail, but I am not so quick to disperse, so long as you hold fast to your wish.”

Lahabrea glanced up at him. “…And I shall. Will you be all right on your own?”

Elidibus looked over the crystals with a smile. “I hardly consider it as being alone.” He looked back at him. “We have time to continue our conversation, but I fear you are no longer capable of holding it. Please rest, Lahabrea.”

He sighed heavily and Elidibus wondered if this was what it looked like when their most respectable and senior Lahabrea sulked.

“Very well. Should you need anything, Elidibus, do not hesitate to wake me.” he said seriously, pushing himself up from his chair.

“Of course. Sleep well, Lahabrea.”

He watched as Lahabrea stumbled over to the bed and kicked off his shoes. He scrambled over the end of the bed onto the side of the mattress that was mostly unoccupied by Granye’s sprawling limbs, then dropped himself onto it.

“Goodnight, Elidibus.” came the last sleep-laden slurred words before Lahabrea fell into silence. It didn’t take long at all for his deep breaths to join Granye’s snores.

Elidibus sat at the long table for a while in the dark room, quiet, watching, listening, holding each of the Convocation’s crystals in turn for longer than he had previously been allowed to. He found that it helped immensely. The stones were not made to be used to restore the memories of those other than who they were inscribed to, thus they did not impart Elidibus will all of his memories about each member of the Convocation. Even his own, he found, was woefully lacking in the finer details of his memory. It wounded him beyond belief to realise that his remembrance had been so shallow. He had remembered the duty bound to the role of Elidibus, but he had forgotten so many things about his past. His life.

He wondered if it was the same for Lahabrea.

Something the man had said earlier troubled Elidibus, when they had lined up the Convocation’s crystals and placed their own respective ones in the pile.

“Together again, at last.”

Lahabrea had spoken with such finality, and yet they were not all present. Elidibus knew that Granye held the last crystal; that of their stricken fourteenth member. He had said nothing at the time, vowing to speak to Granye about the matter privately in the morning, but the discrepancy preyed on Elidibus’ mind.

He was quite sure, then, that there would be no chance of him moving on to the Underworld peacefully until his fears about Lahabrea were allayed.

-~-~-~-~-~-

Granye felt her body waking up, but she refused to make it move. She wasn’t going to even open her eyes. Everything was far too sore. She just knew that she would be bruising all over today. She could tell the window was open – the sounds of birds and the distant bustle of the Crystarium’s people drifted in. She’d gotten used to the sounds of waking up on the First.

Of course there was also the one constant that followed her wherever she went.

Lahabrea’s breathing was deep and tired. Hardly surprising after all the extra-curricular mayhem he’d gone through, but it was nice to hear him sleep in. He was usually up and about before her.

“Good morning.”

Her eyes flew open at the voice that greeted her and she all but flung herself from the bed. The searing pain all over her body was what stopped her from going any farther than sitting upright, but it was all she needed.

Elidibus, still in his diminutive form, sat at the desk at the foot of the bed. Scattered on the table were the Convocation’s crystals. Granye blinked a few times, her thoughts struggling to catch up to reality. “Uh…mornin’.” It was then that she realised he was sitting facing them. She arched her brow.

“Were…you…watchin’ us sleep?”

“I was, though you will permit the fascination. It is quite unusual to see one of my colleagues so deeply entrenched in mortal mundanities. But you needn’t rise on my behalf.” he added hastily.

Granye glanced at her bed-mate and grimaced. “Reckon we should have a wee chat outside – let ‘im rest a bit more.” she said softly before gingerly pulling herself from the bed. She wanted to sleep more, but it was a rare chance to speak to Elidibus without Lahabrea, and she knew she needed to take it.

It was strange to know that Elidibus was observing her every move. It reminded her of the early days when Lahabrea was still captured in his crystal. She knew he was there, watching, even if he never said anything. Noticing that she’d fallen asleep in her gear, Granye grabbed a set of soft casual clothes from the dresser and gestured with a nod of her head to Elidibus to follow her. He promptly hopped off the too-high chair and trailed behind her, leaving the crystals to watch over the slumbering Speaker as they quietly exited the room.

---

She’d first gone to the showers to bathe and dress, and inspect her injuries, and left Elidibus waiting outside. He had made himself at home atop a crate as he waited, holding his crystal absently, tracing its pattern with his thumb as if the motion would awaken some deeper hidden memory. He took the time to formulate his questions, and when Granye came out, hair still wet but looking leagues more refreshed, he expected them to have their discussion promptly.

But instead, she had led the way to the Crystarium’s watering hole, and taken her time to order something from the silver-haired elf woman.

Elidibus couldn’t help staring at her, and she kept glancing back and forth from Granye to him.

Fascinating. All this time, and she had survived.

It seemed even Mitron and Loghrif’s Shadowkeeper had somehow found redemption.

When Granye had her order in hand she left the establishment, and he followed, eager to talk. She didn’t stop until they reached a green stretch of grass that spanned between the two residential buildings, and that was where she decided they would stop, nestling the mug of hot herbal tea she had gotten in the grass before she followed suit.

Elidibus sat next to her, legs dutifully crossed, masked face flitting from Granye as she took a tentative sip of her tea, to the people who passed by. She lowered the mug and wrapped both hands around it.

“Did ye spend all night up?”

“I did, though Lahabrea and I talked til quite late.”

She snorted softly. “No wonder he’s out cold.” She took another small sip from her cup. The silence blanketed them for several long moments.

“…How long d’ye reckon you’ve got?”

“At best? I believe no more than a week.”

Her face crumpled as she dipped her head, fighting the fact that she wanted to cry.

“It should be more than enough time to put my affairs in order.” he said bluntly, casually, still staring ahead. Granye looked up and away from him, pressing her lips together, hard, as if that would dull the ache in her chest.

“There is, however, a matter I wish to discuss with you. It is regarding Lahabrea.”

She blinked rapidly, banishing the sting of tears. “Oh? Go on then.” she prompted, covering the way her voice faltered by taking another sip.

“I am concerned about his memory. He did not seem to realise that the crystal of Azem was absent from the pile.”

Granye frowned as she swallowed her gulp of tea, lowering the cup. “Isnae that to be expected? I was under the impression Emmie made tha’ one without anyone else knowin’.”

Elidibus tilted his head in a gesture of concession. “Perhaps I chose my words poorly. He doesn’t not seem to realise that Azem is missing at all. I am yet to confirm my suspicions, however. I must needs take time to gauge his recollection of certain things. But I wonder if you have perhaps noticed anything in your time together – any significant lapses in memory.”

Granye made a bitter face. “He dinnae speak much of anythin’ related to any Ascian plans, let alone what he does or doesnae ken.”

“I see…” Elidibus pursed his lips before looking up at her. “And you have not showed it to him?”

Granye shook her head. “’brea an’ me… We’re nae friends. I cannae explain it, but I feel like if I showed it to ‘im, he’d just get angry.”

“Even though it could aid him, as it did me?”

“I didnae said I’d never show ‘im. I just dinnae think now would be a good time. I want him to…spend as much time with ye as he can, without worryin’ about other nonsense.”

“Hm. May I see it again?”

Granye flashed him a smile. “O’ course, love.” She held out her hand, and the amber stone sat neatly in her palm. He reached out, then hesitated. “May I?” She nodded and he took it carefully with both hands, lifting it from the cradle of her hand and holding it like a puzzle piece.

“What do you remember?” he asked quietly.

Granye sighed and stared out, over the grass down to the Musica Universalis. “I’s sounds more’n anything. Great big bellows, like some bloody pipe organ. Lots o’ gentle strings…” her voice faded and she narrowed her eyes. “She was upset at someone, I think. I get the feelin’ there were arguments.”

Elidibus smiled. “She could be quite impassioned at times. Fascinating. You remember the music, then.”

She blinked and looked at him. “Music?”

“Yes. The role of Azem is also known as the Traveller – or the Shepherd. But she had a slightly different manner of fulfilling her role.” His smile widened slightly. “She would bring people together with her music. For the longest time…I believe she stayed in Amaurot, rather than taking to the land. There was some debate if she was capable of fulfilling her duty. I don’t believe she had even made a masterwork yet!”

“Was that a big deal?”

“For a member of the Convocation it was somewhat expected to have one notable construct to their name.” He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the crystal seep through him. “Yes… I remember when she finally made hers. She upended her entire building! It caused quite a stir.”

“How’d she do that!?” Granye blurted.

“It was an instrument. Like you said, similar to a pipe organ, though it could produce myriad sounds. It carved its own path up through the building when she was making it! She used it to compose songs, but I believe her most notable contribution to our society were her sample noises. She would make all manner of cacophonous sounds, and submit them for others to use in their own constructs, giving voice to many a new creation.” he elaborated, smiling.

But the smile dissipated once he opened his eyes, and he stared down at the crystal.

“’lidibus? What’s wrong?”

He looked up with a slightly stuck out bottom lip, and when he spoke, his voice was a quiet hoarse whisper.

“This is truly unfair.”

Granye looked at him sadly before she reached out her arm and leaned over, wrapping it around him and pulling him into a hug. She pressed her face to the top of his head. “I know, love, I’m sorry.”

He only leaned against her, silent, shaking the slightest bit in her embrace.

---

Lahabrea was still fast asleep when they came back, sometime past midday, and with a lunch roll from the Wandering Stairs to boot.

“Should we leave him?” Elidibus asked upon seeing the Speaker still curled under the twisted covers.

Granye shook her head. “He gets cranky when he sleeps too long.” She put the food on the table and made her way over to the bed, propping one knee on it before she leaned over and gently began to rouse Lahabrea by putting her hand on his arm and gently rocking him.

“’brea. ‘brea, it’s time to get up. Come on darlin’, ye must be starvin’. I got a sandwich from the Stairs for ye.” His breathing only changed slightly as he began to stir. She rocked him a little more. “Wake up, ‘brea. I’s past midday.”

She glanced over to see Elidibus had come to join her, standing next to the bed, and was about to tell him not to worry himself about it, when he inhaled deeply.

“Lahabrea!” he cried urgently, “You forgot to grade your pupils’ theses!”

Lahabrea’s eyes snapped open

Granye stared dumbly as Elidibus’ face fell into an innocent smile while the Speaker flailed in the bedding in a desperate struggle to rise, his efforts causing Granye to lean back and well clear of any flying limbs. Suddenly his body went limp, and a hand made its way up out of the sheets to pull them off his face. He lay there, glaring at the ceiling, breathless.

“I don’t have any students to grade.”

He slowly turned his head toward them and Granye held up her hands in surrender. His eyes fixed on Elidibus.

“It’s barely been a day and she’s already proven to be a terrible influence on you.”

Her face dropped. “Oi! I was tryin’ to be gentle! Got ye lunch an’ everythin’!”

His gaze slid to her, dubious, as Elidibus trotted off back to the table. “Grilled rail, cheese, lettuce and tomato on a…baguette, was it?” he repeated the order as he remembered, bringing the roll over while Lahabrea gingerly tried to sit up.

He couldn’t help but grit his teeth as his body throbbed in pain. He barely recognised Granye moving to help him sit up, untangling the sheets from him and pressing her hand gently to his back to support him. Elidibus held out the food helpfully, and Lahabrea looked guiltily at it.

“Go on,” Granye said, sitting on the bed on her side, “breakfast in bed once in a while isnae goin’ to hurt.”

He debated for a moment before holding out his arm and accepting the roll. Elidibus happily handed it over and Lahabrea unwrapped it, still half asleep as he took his first ravenous bite. While he was chewing, Granye patted the bed in front of her. “Sit up ‘ere, sweetcream.”

He seemed to think it over before glancing at Lahabrea. The Speaker wordlessly gestured his head toward the empty spot, still chewing away. It was all the encouragement Elidibus needed to bounce himself onto the bed, legs hanging over the side while he turned to look at the two of them.

“I haven’t seen the Scions yet today, but I think we oughta figure out our plans ‘fore they make any decisions for us.” Granye said. “’lidibus, can ye manage at trip to the Source?”

Elidibus lowered his head thoughtfully before looking back at her and shaking it. “I am not confident I could withstand the journey intact.”

She hummed like she expected that to be the response. She looked at Lahabrea. “D’ye reckon you two’d be alright if I left ye here with him? They’re likely goin’ to need me to ferry the spirit vessels across, soon as possible.” Lahabrea struggled to quickly down his mouthful of food to answer and she cracked a grin. “Hells, darlin’, take yer time. I’m nae goin’ to steal yer lunch.” she teased. He shot a mild glare at her that she took to mean that he did not appreciate the barb. Only once he had appropriately cleared his airways did he respond.

“I’m sure we can manage. But I’m surprised you’re entrusting us not to flee into the sunset together. You were loath to leave me alone with Emet-Selch for too long.”

Granye’s playful smile drained away slowly, Elidibus’ earlier words dredging up in her mind. Lahabrea seemed to realise at once that something he’d said had struck one of her deep melancholic chords, but he struggled to think of a way to backpedal.

“I’m a good deal more responsible than Emet-Selch, thank you very much.” Elidibus chimed in.

“Indeed you are. My mistake.” he responded slowly. Despite the Emissary’s good-natured effort to dispel the sudden pall that had crept into the atmosphere, Lahabrea knew it would linger for some time. The way she took in a deep breath and slapped her palms to her thighs in an effort to hype herself up told him as much.

“Right! Well, I’ve got Scions and an Exarch to check in on! D’ye want me to pick up somethin’ fer muscle aches from the Spagyrics, or should I leave some busywork to you?”

Lahabrea shook his head. “I’m in need of the walk, and I should like to be examined by a physician anyway. Lest you forget I was only given a cursory once-over by Alphinaud yesterday evening.” he added.

She grunted and nodded before getting up off the bed. Before she made her way off, she leaned over Elidibus and dropped a kiss to the top of his head. “Stay with ‘brea, aye? Last thing I want is some curious bugger to start pickin’ at who y’are. I’ll be back once I know what the plan is.”

The both watched her jog down the couple of steps and linger at the door when she opened it, waving back at them both before she left the room.

“…You’ve been talking with her.” Lahabrea said.

“Yes. There were things we had yet to speak of. Does that bother you?” Elidibus queried.

How could he possibly explain to Elidibus that he knew exactly where that path would lead? If she got too close to him… He could already see a future fraught with nights spent drowning in tears of grief.

Lahabrea shut his eyes and shook his head.

“Not in the slightest.”

The lie made the rest of his sandwich taste like dirt.

-~-~-~-~-~-

Climbing up the Crystal Tower with G’raha Tia’s arms slung over hers and Lyna’s shoulders was not what she had expected to be doing when she came to visit him. There was no way she could complain about it, though. He was crystallising much faster than expected. Lyna had noticed the blue creeping across his face as they spoke all through the night.

They were carrying him to his chosen resting place. Somewhere he could watch over the Crystarium. The place where it had all begun for the young Tia, over a century ago, on another world: Xande’s Throne.

Neither Granye nor G’raha made any mention of the tears that would intermittently slip down Lyna’s face without warning. She was making a concerted effort to try and behave as the Captain of the Guard and not his family. If she did that now, she wouldn’t be able to take another step.

They had spent the prior hours putting all his affairs in order, like activating the configurations that would allow Lyna and her successors to operate the Tower without him. Lyna had asked when he had set such contingencies in place, and he had sheepishly shrugged without answer. The fact he had made the effort to make such a motion when his body was turning to crystal was enough for her.

In Granye’s pack was his memory crystal, ready to be imprinted. He wanted to wait until the last moment before filling it. He wanted to remember up to his very last moment on the First.

Every so often their climb would be broken by conversation, or Lyna impressing an important word of advice on Granye about her father.

“I don’t care how spry he might be on the Source, you cannot leave him alone when he’s doing research – he completely forgets to eat.”

Sometimes it was a warning to G’raha.

“You need to share your thoughts more with them. No more harbouring secret plans for martyrdom, do you understand?”

“’fraid he’s been like that since the beginnin’, Lyna.” Granye offered. “Did he tell ye how he ended up stuck in the Tower in the first place?”

And so Lyna heard the story of the Crystal Tower from Granye’s perspective as they climbed it’s endless stairs, despite G’raha’s pleas for mercy. By the time they reached the Final Curtain, Lyna decided he had massively downplayed the severity of his actions.

Stepping out onto Xande’s Throne platform brought a solemn wave over the three of them.

“Right over there, if you would. In the middle.” G’raha said softly, unable to physically point at the spot.

They carried him forward, Lyna’s eyes flickering to the remnants of Granye’s clash the prior day. Some great force had carved countless little grooves into the floor, flaring out to either side of the platform. There were marks – stains of a sort – both pale and dark imprinted on the floor, like afterimages of an immense explosion. Even the air felt charged with a residue that prickled at her cheeks.

“I’d like to face the door.” he said once they reached the spot, so they turned him, then set his feet firmly on the ground. Even after they both lowered his arms off their shoulders, they held him steady. “Granye, if you would?” She rummaged in her bag and withdrew his crystal. The sight of it soothed him. “Good. Be sure to keep it safe, now.”

Granye flashed a grin. “’Course, robin. I cannae wait to see ye running around back home.”

He smiled back at her, then focused on the shiny bauble. It shone suddenly as he suffused his memories into it. If his chest didn’t feel so tight he would have sighed in relief. “Thank you, my friend. You should make your way down now. I’m sure you have your own farewells to make.”

Granye nodded. “Aye. I’ll see ye in a wee bit, robin.” She leaned forward and kissed the top of his head, then patted Lyna’s arm before she turned and left.

They watched her go.

“I’ll wager the moment she’s out of sight, she’s going to teleport to the aetheryte downstairs.” G’raha said quietly, a smile tugging at his lips.

Lyna blinked, startled, and looked quickly at Granye. “I…don’t think I can blame her.” When she looked back at him, he was staring at her. “What is it?”

“I’m proud of you.”

“You- Where did that come from?”

“I don’t think I’ve told you that nearly enough. But I want you to know that I will continue to be proud of you, no matter where I am.”

Lyna shook her head and looked down in an effort to hide the heat she could feel rising in her cheeks. “You said you would look for a way to travel between the Source and the First, yet here you are, speaking like you are saying goodbye.”

“I will. But I have no idea how long it might take, and I don’t want you to have any doubts in the interim.”

Lyna could feel her resolve crumbling. Logically, she knew that he wouldn’t be dead, just…off having an adventure. And after all the years he had been shackled to the Crystarium, he deserved his own adventure. But in her heart, she wasn’t ready to face the void he would leave in his wake.

“…Lyna.”

“What?” she mumbled, tears stinging her eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t prepare you for this.”

She sighed loudly, exasperated at herself. “It’s not something you could have prepared me for. It’s not your-”

“Lyna.” he said firmly, prompting her to look up at him. He had lifted his hood back over his head, and he stood as the proud Crystal Exarch. For some reason, it broke her heart, and her tears began to fall in earnest. “…I’d like a hug, dear daughter.” His own voice was frail, trembling.

She hugged him, like she used to when she was younger and more afraid of the world, when she would hide her face in his robes and use them to dry her eyes. “…Have a safe journey, father. Tell me all about it when you get back.”

“I will.” G’raha smiled, his heart at peace.

Somehow, the pain and the rush of white hot heat that raced from his feet up his body…didn’t feel like like anything compared to the warmth of Lyna’s embrace.

——————–

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[tritoch]

argggh i can't stop it. It's happening. having forbidden FFXIV classpect thoughts. Hydaelyn and Zodiark as our cherub equivalents. Meanwhile, events in Elpis result in a Mobius Double Reach-Around pair of interlinked sessions between the Scions and the Unsundered, which are largely asynchronous and separate and link up only around the time of ARR through EW. spoilers through 6.0.

THE BIG TWO:

Hydaelyn: Muse of Time

Zodiark: Lord of Space

---

SOURCE SESSION:

WoL: Knight of Hope (one who wields hope as a weapon. Hope is canonically an extremely powerful aspect and linked to elemental light and the power of belief. Brilliant Conviction, the canonical warrior of light buff, is extremely Hope energy. Also, since light is juxtaposed against despair in the Big Answers Monologue, the Warrior of Light represents not the aspect Light, which is luck and knowledge, but Hope)

Minfilia (& Ryne): Heir of Light (literally everything about Minfilia and Ryne points to this it is almost impossible to ignore. Also again, Homestuck Light represents luck and foresight and this ties to both Minfilia's time as Word of the Mother and Ryne's role as the Oracle)

Alphinaud: Prince of Blood (one who destroys relationships and alliances, see the Crystal Braves, but also one who destroys through or using alliances, see everything after that. Also, all the Princes destroy their aspect in themselves at some point, and ARR Alphinaud is absolutely a bloodless technocrat in all senses)

Alisaie: Rogue of Breath (an outlaw Rogue in contrast to Alphinaud's noble Prince but also because the Rogues are generally affable, unpretentious, and natural adepts of their aspects. Breath stands for freedom, flight, and change. The curing of tempering not only figuratively steals back the breath of Halric and all the tempered (and the porxie animation is even sort of a symbolic transfer of breath), but also restores their freedom and marks perhaps the greatest change to the setting's status quo)

Thancred: Bard of Mind (mind deals with thought, possible futures, the paralysis of choice. The bard allows destruction of their aspect and invites destruction through their aspect. It is difficult to sum up how I think this applies but consider both Thancred, paralyzed by his failure to save Warburton, and also the image of the Fatebreaker. Also he's literally a bard)

Y'shtola: Witch of Void (witch is obvious. Void stands in for forbidden knowledge, obscured things, darkness. Connects to both her personal drive to uncover the hidden things of the world and her time as spiritual leader to the Night's Blessed. Also on a meta level we know the least about her because she is underdeveloped lmao)

Urianger: Seer of Doom (lay-up)

Estinien: Maid of Rage (both the HS Maids are naturals of their aspects, and also go sorta corrupted or weird in relation to it. also the idea of Estinien as Nidhogg's handmaiden (as well as Handmaid) makes a lot of sense to me)

G'raha: Page of Time (again, a lay-up, but note that Pages have the potential to be among the most powerful given time and development. Also as the Exarch has many parallels to Hydaelyn thematically)

---

UNSUNDERED:

Elidibus: Sylph of Heart (Heart deals with identity, the soul, motivation, but also self-knowledge through others. Also Elidibus is a little bit damsel-coded imo)

Emet-Selch: Mage of Space (BEHOLD, A SORCERER OF ELD and also the close narrative link to Zodiark)

Lahabrea: Thief of Life (steals life, as Hephaestus made life. Also life has thematic links to the march of progress and the exertion of will, and through the Condesce and Betty Crocker, power and its abuse (impeach Lahabrea))