#SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP ITS BEEN LIKE FOUR YEARS SINCE I STARTED FINESSING THIS PART OF THE STORY OUT

[lambs-rest]

Hope's Confluence II - To the Edge

Track: Anything > Human – Bad Omens x Erra (YT)

——————–

Hydaelyn’s Champion was good at keeping on her feet, he’d admit that much. Despite her seemingly ungainly size, she had evaded and dodged his blows almost flawlessly since they engaged in battle. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she presently wielded a bow, and knew that her advantage lay in distancing herself as much as possible. Her arrows were far from devastating – more like potshots than attacks with any real intent to harm – and Elidibus was growing annoyingly accustomed to the feeling of his blade striking the crystal floor rather than making contact with her flesh.

It was infuriating.

For all her talk she wasn’t taking their duel seriously at all, dancing about the place like she was playing a game. Perhaps he had erred in taking on the form of the hero, because she seemed to know all his moves before he did. Neither fire nor ice phased her, and the only time she actually stood still was when he was charging up a strike with the former, biding her time until the reactive magic fizzled out.

He would forever regret how he had dallied after his surprise attack early into their fight that had dropped her to her knees. He had used a spell not unlike Doom, which had very nearly been the death of her on the spot. Unfortunately for Elidibus, he had taken the time to be smug and gloat, and while he did so, she had pulled out no less than four bulbous bottles of bright blue liquid and tipped them down her throat all at once. At the same time, a light bit of healing magic had swept over her. Before he knew it, she was shooting arrows at his face, gallivanting around the room and taking any spare moment to imbibe more of the blue liquid, leaving a trail of empty glass phials in her wake.

It was insulting.

Even with all his power, he still struggled to squash her! Then again, she had slain both Lahabrea and Emet-Selch. Perhaps her tenacity was to be expected. If that was the case…

He raised his sword high, light shining from its blade. “Gleaming steel, light my path!” At his call, a copy of his sword swept across the arena, carving a brilliant line of light where its tip traced over the floor. While she was busy and distracted by the new element in play, he called upon the powers of the Summoner from distant shores that he had taken into himself. A dark red-scaled imitation of Bahamut silently formed from the aether behind her.

It was only by the virtue of some sixth sense that she looked back, and by then it was too late. She had been so occupied with the sword, trying to figure out why it was drawing lines of light, that she had completely failed to notice that he had boxed her into a corner for the real threat.

The beginnings of what might’ve been an expletive came from her throat, before the Bahamut roared and rushed at her. She had no chance to drive out of the way before the beast collided with Granye and swept her off her feet. Elidibus expected her to go into the drink, not for her to grapple the summon. He stared, shocked, as her actions caused the beast to thrash, breaking from its direct flight path and pulling skyward with a distressed screech.

This was not how he expected their fight to go.

Elidibus absently wondered if perhaps the summon might be so kind as to carry her away from the tower entirely before its being dispersed, and save him the headache of any more of a protracted battle.

No such luck.

The imitation wyrm flailed on the wing before it turned back around and began to nosedive toward the floor.

He narrowed his eyes.

It wasn’t aiming for the floor.

Elidibus threw up his shield the instant he realised that she had steered the summon at him. ‘Madwoman! Absolute madwoman!’ It was all he could think as the beast bore down on him.

Unfortunately the Bahamut was angled a touch lower than he estimated, and rather than neatly colliding with his ready-and-waiting shield, it instead bowled into his floating legs.

Elidibus unceremoniously pitched forward, tripping over its mess of wings and tail with a shout of surprise. His arms flailed unsuccessfully for balance, and the last thing he glimpsed before his chin smacked into the floor was the Warrior of Darkness herself rolling feebly on her back some feet away where she had evidently poorly executed an emergency moving dismount.

Good. At least they would both be suffering.

The thought gave him little comfort – if any – when the impact actually came and his teeth clacked together hard enough to echo in his ears.

The dark red Bahamut rolled over itself a few more times, a tangle of wings and tail, before it dissipated with the fading cry of an indignant squawk.

Silence settled over them, broken only by weak groans of pain and the gurgle of water, and the distant rolling of thunder above.

Granye tenderly rolled onto her side and looked in his direction, grimacing as she saw the way he held his lower face where he lay face-down.

“Y’alright?” she slurred. He only glared at her, slowly, silently seething, but still too rattled to use his mouth just yet. She cracked a weak grin. “Sorry, sweetcream. I was honestly just tryin’ to get back down.”

As she achingly propped herself up, he followed suit, using both hands to push himself up and bring one leg under his body. But he stayed there, returning his hand to rubbing his jaw.

“’lidibus… Can we please stop this?” Granye asked once she was on her feet, taking several hesitant steps toward him, looking up at his face. “We dinnae have to do this… Ye dinnae have to follow Emet’s example.”

He could feel the way his face automatically pulled into a snarl before it brought a fresh wave of pain to him, which only exaggerated the expression. Even though she could not see beyond his hand, it was plain what his response was.

“You think this is a game.” he hissed, slowly dropping his hand.

“Tha’s nae it-!”

He cut her off by embedding his blade into the floor, the sound and its proximity making her flinch.

“Our mission has only ever been a joke to you!”

He was blind to the way she shook her head and deaf to her attempted pleas and the way she now tried to retrace those foolish steps forward that she had taken.

“You slaughtered my brethren, and now dare to come before me with pathetic pleas for a truce!? I will not suffer your insults a moment longer!”

He lashed out without thinking, anger and indignation poisoning his being. It was only when the weight of her body made contact with the enormous shield on his left arm that he realised he had backhanded her with his entire arm, swatting her away like a fly. A pained yelp momentarily escaped her upon collision and she was flung back. Her body hit the floor and rolled, the grip on her bow failing, leaving the weapon abandoned, clattering down, its glow fading at the absence of its wielder’s touch. She came to a halt at the edge of the platform, her right arm and leg hanging over the lip, fingertips falling into the water that encircled the floor.

Elidibus froze in place, watching her body roll, then fall still, then as he waited for her to get up. She did not rise. This was always his goal…so why did regret rise in his throat like bile? Why did he feel the same kind of inexplicable apprehension that he had experienced hours prior in the Architect’s manufactured city?

No. No. This was right. This was what he wanted, what they had worked towards ever since her power had outgrown their control. It should not have taken such an effort to finally swat her down, especially not when she didn’t even have assistance! Elidibus took in a deep calming breath, more for the motion of doing so than for any need of air. His body slowly relaxed, and he put his doubts to the side.

All else must wait.

He stood and pulled his blade from the floor. It mattered not if she was conscious when the final blow came, he decided. It was a greater mercy than she deserved…but he was almost glad of the circumstance.

-~-~-~-~-~-

His lungs burned as the tower’s opulent red-carpeted hallway finally gave way to the crystalline floor once more. It felt like an age since he had last seen the sky, even though it crackled over his head and spewed with meteors in a sight that made his soul tremble.

But what Lahabrea saw in the audience chamber ahead of him brought a wave of confusion, no doubt exacerbated by his breathless state.

There was a figure – a hugely tall figure clad in plate armour, looming over all, holding sword and shield, poised to swing down their sword…upon a dark green shape sprawled on the floor, unmoving. Vulnerable. A shape whose colour and form he recognised in an instant.

Granye.

Which could only mean…

He thought he had no breath left to spare, that the ragged scraps of oxygen in his lungs were not even enough to stay conscious after his mad sprint up countless flights of crystal blue stairs. Moments ago the dominant thought in his head had been how his legs felt like they were actively on fire. But now, presented with such a scene, Lahabrea found that they moved freely and he ran across the crystal bridge, drawing a deep breath into his lungs.

“ELIDIBUS!”

The large figure froze and turned slowly toward him. It was such a fine-featured, beautiful face that gazed down upon his diminutive mortal figure with such unveiled disgust and disdain. Who is this man – this thing – that dares address me with such familiarity? Pale blue eyes narrowed, glaring, as though seeing beyond sight for a moment, as Lahabrea staggered to a halt, stumbling into the round and doubling over, hands on his knees as he gasped for air.

It was like each desperate breath made his aether rise like a flame. Each passing second of observation brought with it a slow dawning realisation to Elidibus, and a deepening sickness in his gut.

“…Lahabrea?”

When the seemingly mortal man lifted his head, a cry rose in his throat.

“Lahabrea! You are alive! What… What has happened to you?”

Lahabrea’s chest ached for more than just his strained lungs. What indeed? How was he to explain the endless chain of events that led to his present state of being? It would take days to fully answer such an innocuous question. Days they did not have. Instead he could only gaze up at the Emissary who drifted towards him, almost hesitant.

“She… She saved my life.”

Elidibus’ track stopped abruptly and he reeled back, glancing at Granye’s prone form then back at Lahabrea. “She saved you? Lahabrea, you hardly resemble yourself!”

“I would not stand here in any capacity were it not for her!” He corrected sharply, Ascian syllables bouncing off the crystalline surfaces as if rebuked by the pure substance. “My soul would have been devoured by Thordan – by the primal he became – if that insufferable woman had not taken my life into her hands.”

“I…don’t understand. We thought you had died.” Elidibus’ voice was full of pain and confusion, before his eyes lit up with hope. “Then…did Igeyohrm…?”

Lahabrea shook his head. “…No. She was slain.”

Elidibus’ delicate face crumpled with confusion. “Then…where have you been? All this time-!?” His expression fell blank, turning to again Granye, then back a Lahabrea sharply. “With her!? …She has been imprisoning you since the beginning!”

Lahabrea clenched his jaw. Why did it sound so much harsher than it felt when someone else said it?

“Did you not reach out to us?” Elidibus pleaded. “We would have found you, rescued you-!”

“You would have shackled me to another keeper.” He interrupted, blindsiding Elidibus. Lahabrea’s gaze wandered to Granye’s still unconscious body. “Though I loathe the blasted thing, this flesh she has forced upon me has afforded me freedom in a way I would not have had otherwise.” He found the strength to meet the Emissary’s baffled gaze. “Yet I am vulnerable. Now more than ever. In my weak state I have been subject to many unforeseen dangers. Each time, she has put her wellbeing on the line for my safety. If there is but one factor I can rest assured of, it is that she will guard my life with her own, be it from steel or fang, primal or Scion…from Emet-Selch, and even from you.”

“You…are defending her. Why!?” Elidibus boomed.

“Tell me, Elidibus… Do you remember our home?”

The Emissary stared, mouth agape, the words surely on his tongue, and yet, evaporating.

“…I do not. I have tried, over and over, to remember the smallest details! Yet it all remains a haze. At the end of it all, only Emet-Selch remembered. Only he truly yearned for the past and all its minutia. So I ask you, do you remember?”

“You… You cannot truly be asking this, here, now!”

“I cannot find it in myself to care for the world we lost. I cannot remember anything beyond my office, my desk…my place in the Convocation. I may never return to the power I once held. My soul may forever remain a pathetic, whimpering ember.” he growled, fist clenching tightly. “But if I had one wish, one selfish wish…I would wish for you to live. To thrive as we did not. Elidibus, I beg of you; stand down.”

“She has slain our brethren! She murdered Emet-Selch!”

“Because she was given no choice!” Lahabrea shouted, the words bubbling out of him. “She did not want to kill him, just as she does not want to kill you! Please, Elidibus, do not push her down that path!”

Elidibus shook his head softly in shock. “I can’t believe that you, of all people, are saying such words!”

“’Tis not a position I ever thought to find myself in, but here I stand! Elidibus, please. I do not want to lose any more than I already have. You’re all that’s left.”

Elidibus seemed to deflate, his eyes shutting slowly, head turning away. Lahabrea prayed that he was thinking it through, that he would agree. Then they could come down from this wretched spire, and he could tell him everything-

“…She has bewitched you.”

Lahabrea’s face dropped, along with his heart.

“The Lahabrea I knew would never have made such egregious demands. He would never have stood against our mission so blatantly. She has tainted your mind and stolen your sense of purpose.”

“Elidibus, listen to me-!”

He sucked back his words as the tip of the blade in Elidibus’ hand swung down, pointed at his face.

“It is in his memory that I shall lay your shredded mind and soul to rest.”

No. No, this couldn’t be happening. Elidibus couldn’t really be the one-

Panic seized Lahabrea’s body as he remembered the last time he was threatened by an armour-clad being – by a blade of light. By a primal. And that was what Elidibus truly was. How could he ever have forgotten?

Elidibus raised his blade back, and Lahabrea slowly closed his eyes and hung his head, awaiting the Emissary’s judgement. Perhaps it was fated that he meet his demise by a blade of light after all… But never did he dream that blade would be wielded by one of his own brethren. And what could he do against that? When it had been Thordan, he had been outraged. He had wanted to take action, but been unable to. Now…there was no need to survive, no righteous indignation to fuel his anger.

He heard the blade cleave through the air, the little noise of exertion that came from Elidibus.

And then sprinting of footsteps, and the deafening clash of metal-on-metal just above his head that made him flinch.

His eyes snapped open, head jolting up.

Oh how well he knew the familiarly large figure that suddenly stood in front of him, fending off the blow that cracked down over their heads with a flash of sparks. Her clothes had changed to a dark blue leather coat, and he saw a weapon that was unfamiliar in her hands, though he knew it well in hands of another – a gunblade.

The wave of relief that flooded Lahabrea was ridiculous. He wanted to wobble to his knees. She was alive.

“We really need to work on yer sense o’ self-preservation, darlin’.”

He breathed in suddenly, almost gasping as he forced out a faint broken chuckle. He’d never been so sickeningly happy to hear her rough accented voice, and that stupid moniker.

Granye’s grin was forced as she struggled under the force of Elidibus’ attack, holding her gunblade up over her shoulders as she hunched, legs bent under the pressure. But there wasn’t a single chance in the seven hells that she was backing down. When she had woken from her concussion to the familiar sound of Lahabrea’s voice speaking the Ascian language, her first thoughts had been pleasant and secure. Until her senses sharpened and she opened her eyes, and remembered where she was, and who she had been fighting.Her first thought then became to ask Lahabrea what had possessed him to throw himself into danger. But that question was discarded the moment she understood what was happening – that Elidibus was preparing to kill him.

It hadn’t been a conscious decision to tap into her Gunbreaker crystal, nor to close the gap between them in an instant with Trajectory. All she knew was the frantic feeling that gripped her, like it had once before atop Mount Gulg, where she had been powerless to stop a different Ascian from stealing him away.

Never again.

Granye grit her teeth as the displeased ‘Warrior of Light’ continued to force his blade down on her, seemingly unfazed by her sudden interference.

“Elidibus!” she thundered. “Ye had their love! How could ye throw it away so carelessly!?”

He blinked, confused. “Throw it…?”

“Ye’ve forgotten yer purpose and clung only to duty. Did their hearts…mean so little to you!?” Granye fought against the pressure, pushing herself out of her hunch and lifting her head to flash a snarl at him. “Did their mourning of yer sacrifice an’ their love fer YOU as Elidibus – their Elidibus! – mean nothin’!? REMEMBER YERSELF!”

“Silence!” he shouted. “What would a feeble, rotten shadow like you know about them!?”

“Even with this fragmented soul, I know…that you were the most beloved of all! Dinnae ye dare cast that aside!” Granye roared. With all her might, she pushed, forcing Elidibus to stagger back a handful of steps. He stared, dumbfounded, blinking in shock at her defiant words.

But Granye didn’t waste a second, and she turned back to Lahabrea and began urging him toward the tower entrance.

“Ye have to go, now!”

He blinked rapidly as if breaking from a daze. “What? No!”

“I willnae risk ye like this! Go!”

“I will not leave!”

“’brea-!”

“I will not stand by and wait to find out who lives and who dies!” Lahabrea shouted back. His gaze went beyond her for a moment Elidibus, then flickered back to Granye before double-taking at the Emissary.

“Watch out!”

She turned just in time for a length of scalding hot pink chain to wrap around her left arm. Granye stumbled back under the impact, but remained alert enough to use her gunblade to deflect the next chain that flew at her. She was no stranger to this trick, least of all from an Ascian. Apparently all the Paragons were fond of binding their enemies.

Granye flipped her weapon in hand to face the blade up, then stomped her right leg on the chain around her wrist, pulling it taut. She slipped the blade between her thigh and the chain and pulled up, cutting it like fishing line. She couldn’t give Elidibus the chance to fully bind her, least of all while Lahabrea was still in the crossfire.

Just when she had cut through one chain, another came out of nowhere and lashed itself around her sword arm, pulling her back and causing her right leg to flail for a moment before she steadied herself. Another wrapped around her barely freed arm and yanked it away from her body, spreading her arms like a starfish. More chains lunged up from the ground at her feet, wrapping around her legs. Granye grit her teeth and flexed her arms, pulling against the restraints so hard that her arm shook.

Lahabrea saw the look on Elidibus’ face go from annoyance to a mild sort of horror when her efforts actually bore fruit and her right arm broke free, shattering the links. Granye immediately cut her left arm loose and began hacking at the chains swarming her legs.

He saw the way the Emissary reached out abruptly with his left hand, gesturing to her with an open palm before balling it into a fist.

“Granye!”

He regretted calling for her the moment her name left his lips…because she stopped her struggle and turned her head to him, expecting something to be wrong, that he was in danger.

All Lahabrea could do was watch as a rush of chains surged from the floor, wrapping around her like snakes, constricting and biting into her flesh, pressing and tugging her into a grotesque twisted sculpture until she was totally bound and immobile, arms trapped down at her sides under swathes of chains.

“’brea,” she rasped, barely able to move her jaw, her brown eye finding his gaze, “run!”

“RIFT SWALLOW YOU!”

“GRANYE!”

Lahabrea reached out for her, just as she was pulled into a dark pit that opened up beneath her, dropped into the abyss like a stone in a lake.

The dark rift snapped shut, and Lahabrea stumbled in his steps, unable to tear his gaze from the place on the floor that she had vanished into.

He stared until Elidibus drifted into that very spot. Lahabrea jolted his head up, startled, and stumbled two steps back. He had wanted so badly to reason with Elidibus…but it seemed that reason had left him. The being that stood before him now was not their Emissary.

It was a primal.

And Lahabrea could do only one thing in his fear, under that cold, dispassionate gaze.

Run.

-~-~-~-~-~-

It was cold, and dark and stifling. She’d been here once before, when Nabriales kidnapped Minfilia, years ago. She hated it then, and she hated it now.

“Here where we Ascians have been forced to retreat time and again, you will meet your demise.”

Elidibus’ voice hissed the promise in her head, entirely too loud and too close for her senses. She knew he wasn’t there, but she could feel his voice, as if it came from the very chains that strangled her. She tried desperately to fight against them, only to earn a scoff from the Emissary.

“Struggle all you like. Even should you break free, there is no way back.”

His presence withdrew, leaving only cold clammy darkness behind, leeching her strength like a poison. How…could they have ever survived in this awful rift?

The more Granye struggled, the weaker she grew, weighed down by the bindings until her heart felt as heavy as her body. She couldn’t afford to give up, not here, not now. Not when the Scions had yet to return home. Not when Zenos was out there, running wild again.

Not when Lahabrea was all alone with Elidibus.

A despairing groan escaped her. This time there were no Scions to break through the darkness and throw her a lifeline. There was no Hydaelyn to shield her from death. Was this truly where her journey ended? Unresolved and unsatisfying?

She shut her eyes and let the chains cradle her flagging body.

It seemed to her like she only gotten this far by sheer luck, in the end. And her luck had run out.

“Good grief. Are you really slumbering here, of all places? I hope you didn’t call upon me just to join you in this dreadful dead-end for a little nap ‘for old time’s sake’, even if it is one of my favoured pastimes.”

Her face crumpled into an angry, wounded frown. Leave me alone. I don’t need your ghost to haunt me any further.

“Are you pouting!?”

“I’ll do what I damn well please, ye rat-bastard.” she croaked.

“Oh, so you roused me from my slumber in the Underworld just to insult me! That’s good to know. Really, why do I bother to answer summons at all?”

Granye forced her eyes open, puzzled, chest aching. “…Emmie?” The void before her was the same writhing dark mass as it had been before she closed her eyes, and her hope died. She was probably hallucinating about dead people since she was so close to becoming one of their number.

“You know how much I loathe that nickname.”

A glittering light floated overhead, though she couldn’t turn her head to look directly at the source. She had to wait for it to drift into her line of sight first.

When it did, she wanted to cry.

“Oh don’t start! Please, contain yourself for a mere moment!”

Well, apparently she was already crying. But really, what did he expect?

Emet-Selch was a shimmering form of white and blue light, garbed not In the ornate robes of a Paragon, but the simpler ones of an Ancient shade. The hood was drawn up over his head and he wore the smooth red semi-circular patterned mask over his face. If that didn’t confirm his identity, the fact that he was drifting by as if sprawled on a chaise lounge certainly did.

“Emmie!” She bawled.

He sat upright, coming to a stop in front of her, holding out one hand toward her, palm facing her. “Stop! Don’t tell me all you’ve done since we parted was cry? You were an absolute mess when we said goodbye, and you’re an absolute mess now! Look at you!”

She sniffled and her pout only grew. She couldn’t move her head an ilm and he knew it.

“…Point taken.” he lazily leaned his elbow on his knee and propped up his chin. “You must have really pushed Elidibus’ buttons for him to go this far with you.” He sounded almost impressed. “Did he find out about Lahabrea?” he added with a grimace.

She inhaled shakily. “He… I have to get out of here. Emmie, he’s tryin’ to kill ‘brea!”

Emet’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “As I suspected he might.”

“What!?” she croaked hoarsely. “What d’ye mean ‘as ye suspected’!?”

“Just so. You understand Elidibus’ situation now, don’t you? He’s unpredictable. It’s why I never told him about Lahabrea.” Emet sighed and kicked back as if on an imaginary recliner. “Poor Lahabrea. Truly, I do not envy him. To be saddled with you for several years was bad enough, but now, to have Elidibus turn on him? It’s almost too tragic.”

Her panic turned to anger. “If ye came here just to rub salt in the wound, then ye can bugger off! I’ve wasted enough time an’ regret on you! ‘brea needs me. ‘lidibus needs me! I dinnae care how lost he is, I’ll drag him back to his senses by the scruff!”

Emet tilted his head just enough to peer at her. “Even if, in the end, you cannot save him? He is a primal, Granye. He is fated to die without the sustenance of faith and prayer.”

“I have to. I have to try!” she hissed through gritted teeth. “I cannae let him go when he dinnae even remember why…why he became what he is!”

She couldn’t see his eyes behind the mask, but she could feel them, scrutinising her, just as piercing as they were when he had been alive.

“And do you truly believe yourself equal to the task? You were a hair’s breadth away from giving up when I got here. It’s quite disappointing, really, that after all your bluster and bravado in our fatal duel, here you are, looking especially pathetic. It makes me wish you had just given up and succumbed to the Light as I had planned, since you were just going to break your word to me so easily. It’s honestly quite insulting.”

Her mild frown turned into a deep scowl. “Insultin’? Ye want to talk to me about insultin’!? You used me as a ticket to the world’s longest nap! Why would ye set up Hythlo’s shade to give me all those crystals if ye weren’t prepared for the possibility o’ losin’!?” she snapped before he could rebut her claim as his posture changed to standing. “You-! Yer a twat! A wanker! A royal bastard!” she shouted. “Ye had no right to put me in that position! No right to lie to me about-!”

Granye broke off, choking on her words, and Emet was silent as she struggled to cough and heave under the pressure of her bindings. Only when her efforts calmed did he respond.

“I didn’t lie to you.”

“You did!” she gasped, still struggling to inhale properly. “You knew. An’ ye kept it all under wraps, because you couldn’t face it! I knew you! We were friends! Then an’ now! An’ you…you threw me into the fire!” Granye strained against the chains just to be able to look at him head-on. “An’ now ye deign to bless me with yer presence, without apologisin’! Nae even a half-arsed one! Ye’ve got no idea what I’ve been strugglin’ with – how many times I’ve just shut down, because I failed when it counted the most, an’ now it’s happenin’ all over again with Elidibus! I’m nae made o’ glass, Emet, but I’m nae made o’ stone neither. I cannae keep goin’ like this. So please, if yer nae here to help me, then leave me alone. I cannae deal with any more ghosts.”

“…The only lie I told was to myself. And I fully believed it. So you can throw your tantrum and shed your tears, but it doesn’t change the fact that you called me for help. And I answered.”

He was leaning over her, like she was a child, and he the expectant adult waiting for them to reach a revelation.

“…What d’ye mean I called?” she eventually whispered through tears.

“Now she asks the pertinent questions! Either Hythlodaeus’ shade did not explain, or you did not listen. The Fourteeth’s crystal is no mere pretty bauble.”

She blinked, scouring her frazzled memory for some kind of hint as to what he was alluding.

“Instead she began to call upon her ever-expanding community of comrades, and together resolve matters themselves. Such is the magick sealed within that crystal – the magick to summon the stars to your side.”

Hythlodaeus’ words rang out in her mind and a small smile crossed Emet-Selch’s masked face as he saw the clarity in her eyes.

“So you were listening.”

“B-But…how’re ye supposed to help me? Yer dead!”

“Indeed! So you can imagine how vexing this is for me! It’s almost as bad as the time Elidibus woke me up from my well-earned nap after my seventy-odd years long stint as Solus zos Galvus!” He folded his arms. “Why don’t you tell me what you need, and I’ll see what I can manage, hm?”

Granye’s eyes wandering down and settled into the swirling purple distance as her mind worked.

What she needed… There were too many things that fit that description. Answers, power, information.

“…I need to get out of here. I need the ability to defeat Elidibus, and bring him back to his senses.”

“I believe you already have the tools that can help you with the third point…but I’ll see what I can do about the other two.”

He leaned back, drifting away from her, further and further, his being fading.

“Emmie? Emet!” Her face twisted as he ignored her call. “Hades!”

That stopped him in his tracks.

“…Will I ever see ye again?”

He scoffed. “I think not. The dead need their rest, Granye. But,” he added with a shrug, “I am no authority on the matter. Not from this side of the veil, at least.” His mocking grin softened. “Try not to go overboard out there. You want to wake Elidibus from his dream, not send him to an eternal one. Oh, and if you do end up kicking the bucket, bring your Triple Triad deck with you. I’ll go mad if I have to put up with your snoring for an eternity.”

“Oh shut up.” she laughed weakly.

And then he was gone, a flicker of light disappearing on some imaginary wind, the glittering dust in his wake disappearing after a mere moment.

Granye swallowed thickly, fighting back more tears. At least…this time she had the chance to get some things off her chest. She tried to focus on that, rather than the deafening silence that filled the space once more.

He had made it sound like he had a plan – a sound one. All Granye had to do was wait, and put her faith in him.

Her body was starting to lose feeling.

She closed her eyes for a moment.

Putting faith in Emet-Selch… Surely she’d gone mad, believing anything he said after what he did to her, to the Scions – to the entire bloody world. But…he had come to her aid, even from the beyond. That had to mean something.

A light, warm and gentle, blossomed behind her eyelids, forcing Granye to open her eyes. She was suddenly surrounded by golden light, swelling and spinning around her in intricate geometric patterns.

“Herein I commit the chronicle of the traveller. Shepherd to the stars in the dark.” A voice, speaking in the echoing foreign sound of the Ancient’s wrapped around her. “Though the world be sundered and our souls set adrift, where you walk, my dearest friend, fate shall surely follow. For yours is the Fourteenth seat – the seat of Azem.”

It took her a moment to recognise it as the same voice she had heard when she picked up Emet’s crystal in Amaurot. He sounded so very different without the teasing lilt in his tone.

A tremendous cracking sounded from all around her as the chains began to split, the links growing brittle and snapping, falling off her body in sheets. The light surrounding Granye grew brighter and brighter, until she had to cover her eyes against it.

When the brilliant light faded and Granye slowly opened her eyes again…she was back atop the Crystal Tower, in the waking world, with the burnished sky spewing fire above the Tower’s spire.

But Elidibus, she noted, was nowhere to be seen. Nor was Lahabrea.

A distant cracking noise reached her ears and Granye spun. Her gut dropped. The noises continued, coming from inside the Tower. But her eyes quickly fell to the oddity that lay before her, barring her path.

It was a large blade composed of purple crystal, darkest at the hilt and palest at the blade’s point, which was embedded in the Crystal Tower’s floor. Round dark patterns circled the base of the blade near the guard, patterns she thought familiar but could not place. An almost transparent darkness radiated down the weapon in pulses, like waves of heat in a desert.

She slowly approached the weapon, transfixed, before she reached out and grasped the long black handle.

The moment her fingers fully wrapped around the grip the sword flared with darkness, flickering aggressively like a gushing waterfall.

I suppose I never did lend you my strength before. Let it never be said that Hades was not a man of his word.

Granye smiled slowly. “…Aye.” She pulled the huge sword out of the ground and lifted it, surprised by the way it felt no heavier than her usual gunblade in her hand as she pointed the tip skyward. She brought the behemoth blade to rest on her shoulder and set her sights on the door into the Tower.

“It’s time to become a real Warrior o’ Darkness.”

——————–

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