#akhutai urit

[scales-claws-and-thorns]

[furys-mercy]

|| WELCOME ||

Welcome to Fury’s Mercy. This blog is largely dedicated to my main OC, August Mercer, and his journal entries, screenshots, drabbles, and memes. That said, alts will be featured and cross-posted. Particularly those alts with ties to Mercer. Which, at this point, is most if not all of them. With this in mind (and the fact that I follow from this blog, and people may be more familiar with another character) I have decided to keep an updated pinned post with my current character roster as well as relevant information about tags and character nicknames used on this blog. 

|| CHARACTER ROSTER || 

- | AUGUST MERCER |  - | MAIN OC |  - | RP: ON HIATUS |  - | MACHINIST, ENGINEER, SUMMONER | - | CARRD |

- | SEBASTIAN DE VAIREMONT | - | ALT OC | - | RP: ON HIATUS |  - | DUELIST, SOCIALITE, BASTARD | - | TUMBLR | - | CARRD |

- | VISCOUNT CYRILLE DE ARCHAMBEAU | - | ALT OC | - | RP: ON HIATUS |  - | FORMER INQUISITOR, ECCENTRIC, IN WANT OF A WIFE | - | CARRD |

- | LADY MARCETTE DE VAIREMONT | - | ALT OC | - | RP: ON HIATUS |  - | FALLEN LADY, SOCIALITE, VINDICTIVE  |

- | TEO-LINH | - | ALT OC | - | RP: ON HIATUS |  - | TRAVELLER, HEDGE WITCH, VOIDTOUCHED | - | TUMBLR | 

- | KISHAR SEPELIRE | - | ALT OC | - | RP: ON HIATUS |  - | TRAVELLER, VENGEFUL, VOIDSENT |

|| SHIP TAGS ||

#guard my heart - Mercer & his husband X’khal’a Moui

#the crow and dragon - Mercer & his husband Akhutai Urit

#a light in the dark - Mercer & his boyfriend Fehre’a Khaari

|| STORY TAGS ||

#duplicitous deeds - A completed storyline surrounding a rivalry between Mercer and another goldsmith. Involved Akhutai Urit.

#into the unknown - An ongoing storyline involving both Mercer and his half-brother, Sebastian de Vairemont.

|| NICKNAMES ||

Mercer tends to give nicknames to people that he really cares about. These nicknames may appear in his journal entries, drabbles, or ask responses. So folks know who is who, I have included a list below.

Kid - X’khal’a Moui 

Firestorm - Akhutai Urit

Boss - Sasari Sari

Lordling - Sebastian de Vairemont

Starlight - Lazne Urit

[wispofwillow]

The Final Coil of Bahamut

Setting/Timing: Final Coil of Bahamut, following the events of A Realm Reborn for Wisp (and was the first experience of Coils for Wisp and Onawa)

Note: This snippet features members of the Riskbreakers Free Company: Onawa Rider, Chained Dawn, and Akhutai Urit (featured with their permission, which does NOT mean that I did not mess up their characterization), as those were the characters who did indeed run Coils of Bahamut with me the first time. (Likely also got some other details wrong and have some things messy, so will need to go back and fix later)

Music:  From the Ashes - Masayoshi Soken Loyal - ODESZA Bahamut Prime’s Theme/Answers - Nobuo Uematsu

____

Wisp stood staring up at the great bulk of Bahamut’s head, at its masses of sinew and straggling, tattered ends of flesh, and felt another shudder of nausea roll through them. The platform still simmered with the afterglow of the blows Bahamut had thrown against them, deflected by the combined determination of the twins. Wisp could feel Alisae and Alphinaud beside them, braced against whatever might come next. 

    But what would come next was not down to the twins, they knew. Wisp dragged their eyes from the monstrous sight of Bahamut, half-rotted, half-new, kept alive by the machinery of the Allagans and the endless pain of countless lives, refocusing on their companions. They had turned, as well, to look to one another, Akhutai standing tall and still, unbowed by all that had just occurred, blue-grey eyes calm, scaled tail as steady and still as the rest of him. Onawa too, stood firm, long Viera ears and stance both straight and tall, lance held steady in her grip, though her face looked paler in this light, lines of strain that had not been there standing out starkly around the scars that crossed their eyelid and skipped over one eye and down one cheek. But then, Wisp knew Onawa better than they did Akhutai, who, together with Chained Dawn, had stepped forward out of the Free Company when they had heard of the request Alisae had made. Whatever Akhutai felt and thought, they might not see it.

Akhutai turned to Onawa, who nodded, mouth set in a grim line, and then to Wisp. They nodded, too, twisting their grip on their staff, and waited until he had turned away to shut their eyes just for a moment, swallowing hard against that roiling nausea as their ears lay flat back against their head for a moment, tail twitching. Ready. Or as ready as they could be…

The air swirled around them, thick with aether laced with the fear, the pain, the hate of this place that hooked into their skin, into their guts, and pulled, dredging images of the past layers of this wreckage to the surface and keeping them firmly, permanently, repeating in the back of their mind. A fresh wave of fierce, angry grief rocked them at the thought of what had been wrought here - of the horror of the ranks upon ranks of imprisoned dragons, trapped - deliberately, purposefully - in an endless pain, a despair without limits. How could anyone do this? She had thought, and did again now. It was no wonder Bahamut’s rage rode the very air of this place. It was no wonder he had seized what opportunity he could and twisted it to himself. 

No wonder, no - but no easier, for all that, to see that twisted opportunity made reality in the form of Louisoix Leveilleur’s shade. No easier to learn, at last, to watch the full knowledge of what he had become - of what Wisp had begun to suspect had become of him - reflected in the faces of the grandchildren who so clearly had loved him. Or to throw themselves against that shade as it rose from ashes into a screaming bird of flame, shrieking its rebirthed torment on them in a hail of fire. Wisp had thought themselves - had thought them all - spent, then, as the final flames had sunk again into shadow, afterimages burned against their eyelids where they knelt at the edge of the platform that had contained them all, fur singed, raw. But, their work had not been done. Chained Dawn had knelt briefly by her, then, the strength of her a steadying force, offering a salve for the burns, as Akhutai did the same for Onawa. Esuna could serve them well, but by this time the spell flared in fits in spurts in Wisp’s hands, offering relief but leaving traces of their injuries behind. “You alright to go on?” Chained Dawn had asked, voice pitched quiet. As though there were a choice in it. And there was, Wisp realized looking up to meet their companion’s steady gaze, taking in Onawa standing and stretching out sore muscles behind, Akhutai stepping back, crossing his arms as he nodded at something Onawa had said. They would, and could, carry on themselves, whether Wisp could stand with them or no, and see Bahamut’s continued reincarnation to an end. Wisp had dropped their gaze from Chained Dawn’s calm concern for a moment, feeling the weariness and the ache of their own stumbling pace this far spreading through them. But when they had looked up, Onawa had met their eyes over Chained Dawn’s shoulder, her head tilted, and Wisp had seen resolve in her. And, thinking of Onawa, and then of the twins, waiting to hear of what, now, had become of their grandfather - or what remained of him, Wisp had nodded, and accepted the brief smile and the hand up that Chained Dawn had offered them.

Thinking of the twins again, now, Wisp looked to each, and found Alisae and Alphinaud looking back, that same determination that had carried them this far showing again in the intent way they watched Wisp. Feeling again the awe at their fortitude, the quick bite of sadness at the need for it, Wisp reached out to briefly grip Alisae’s arm, nodded once to Alphinaud, and stepped forward to join Akhutai and Onawa at the mechanism that would carry them this last step. 

As Akhutai reached for the screens before them, Wisp lifted their face again to the wreck that was Bahamut. No tears rose in them now, but those they had cried earlier, in the hall of dragons, and again in the wake of Louisoix’s fresh loss, had left trails of salt-stiffened skin and fur down their face, left unattended as Chained Dawn had offered a hand to help them up, or Onawa had bumped a shoulder against their arm, silent encouragement to carry forward. All the while, as they had summoned stiff smiles or determined nods for the Leveilleur twins, Onawa and Wisp had traded grim glances, Wisp glimpsing moments of the same horror at the back of her eyes, the same anger in the fierceness with which she carried her lance, the forceful precision with which she struck true at each new opponent. And Akhutai and Chained Dawn had strode ahead, looking back with a kind of remote, distant understanding that made Wisp think they had guessed, or somehow knew, what might await them here. And at each new obstacle they had struck with a swift ease that belied the power of their blows, felling twisted creatures and relics of Allagan technology alike with an effortlessness that left Wisp, stumbling behind, uncast spells at the ready, in a breathless awe. And when Chained Dawn had waved her farewell, called away in an urgent linkpearl message to another mission, Akhutai had continued on, ready to lead them, Onawa and Wisp, and the determined twins in their midst.

They felt Onawa now at their shoulder, and the tightness in their chest eased just a moment, just a bit, at the reminder they were not here alone. 

The light took them, then, and they felt their perspective shift, a familiar vertigo of transport magics swooping through them, the flash of it blinding them.

When their vision cleared, the three of them stood alone in the midst of a vast ring whose edges bled into the swirling mass of red that had become the sky. And Bahamut - or whatever remnant this heart of Bahamut was - hovered above them, wings beating at the air with a force they could feel vibrate through their teeth, red, furious eyes fixed on them all. 

Wisp gripped their cane tighter, shifting their stance to face the vast shadow of dragon whose wings seemed to span the width of the platform below them, and willed their speeding heart lower, their breathing slower as they lifted their face to meet that gaze full on through the flimsy protection of their carved mask. On either side of them, Onawa and Akhutai stepped forward, as well, sinking into their own battle stances, lance at the ready on one side, axe on the other. 

Bahamut beat his wings once, twice, hitting against the air hard enough to send gusts of air skirling through their hair, their clothing, then tipped his head back and roared. The sound echoed, reverberating back through the air around them, and Wisp felt the power, the anguish twisting to anger, to hate pulse through air and aether both. 

 Akhutai stepped forward, then, undaunted, as the last of the sound still shivered in Wisp’s bones, and Wisp could’ve sworn they heard him say, “This should be fun,” as he hefted his axe and, without hesitation, aimed an initial blow at one of Bahamut’s dangling legs. The blow connected, scraping the scales of Bahamut’s natural armor with a metallic hissss. Bahamut roared again, attention honing in on Akhutai, and the great creature spun, aiming the edge of a wing toward Akhutai’s head. Akhutai sidestepped neatly, turning the motion into a shift of position, drawing Bahamut back with him as he swung Bahamut away from Onawa and Wisp, back toward one edge of the platform. Onawa and Wisp used the opportunity he had created to duck under Bahamut’s wing, its heavy beats against the air audible now as he dropped to face Akhutai, and shift around behind him, Wisp laying down a quick layered dome of shielding as they ran, while Onawa twisted to deliver a first precise blow of her spear aimed at one of those great wings. Wisp saw Bahamut swiped a heavy set of claws towards Akhutai, who deflected the jarring blow with the shaft of his axe, one corner of his mouth lifting - whether in a smirk or a growl Wisp could not tell before it was gone again, Akhutai stepping back and then launching forward again, axe swung high above his head in a blur of an arc that Wisp could feel land. Bahamut hissed, flinching back, and Onawa used the opportunity to draw her lance down his back in a long, slashing arc that bit past his scale into skin.

Wisp took in a breath, focusing their attention away from their companions, who needed none of their healing in this moment, and back to Bahamut himself. They let the familiar flow of aether rise through them, heard an answering call in stone, and sent a first wave of rock bursting toward Bahamut’s heart. It broke against his armored hide, shards skittering away down his side and wings, and Wisp sent another, and another, aiming first at his side again, then at the wing closest them. At the edge of their vision Onawa called on the strength of the dragoon, scaled coils rising in a vision of red around her, and thrust her lance again, weaving in and out of the reach of Bahamut’s beating wings. Akhutai struck at the same time as Onawa, strength roiling in almost visible waves from him as his axe landed another true hit, biting deep into the arm of the clawed hand Bahamut had swiped toward him again.

The dragon - or his shade, whatever this warping, shadowed creature was - beat his wings once, hard, shoving himself back away from Akhutai’s next blow, and roared again. It hit fast, hard - a physical wave of force that staggered Wisp - and the other’s too, Wisp saw as they used their cane to steady themselves and ran forward once more. Seeing Onawa since, feeling the sting of the blow in their own flesh, Wisp took another breath and let the calming flow of healing magic, always scented somehow so faintly of pine, roll up through their veins and out through their palms, a regenerative spell sent out in an answering wave to Bahamut’s blast of force. 

They felt something shift. When Wisp lifted their face, tail twitching, Bahamut had twisted his head around to fix his gaze on them. The moment where their eyes met his - the wild anger there dizzying - was instant, but felt stretched into eternity across a heartbeat, two. Then Bahamut lifted his face toward the ceiling - sky? - and released a screeching call. Wisp saw the flare of fire forming, a spark to a flame bursting outward, set directly above them, dropped their head, and ran, hard. The air behind them flared with sudden heat. Faster. They pumped their arms faster, each footfall launching them a springing step forward, breath coming wildly

Whoosh. Flames dropped down and then out, clawing after them. And they hadn’t been fast enough. Fire ate up the back of their feathered robe skirt, their tail, their legs, washing out along their arms as they threw themselves a final step. Then, it stopped. Wisp stumbled, the pain of attack rising, and breathed a quick prayer to themselves, calling another spell up to their fingertips. They lifted their head as the magic washed up to check for Onawa and Akhutai, released another breath to see them unharmed, Akhutai in the midst of another blow of his axe to draw Bahamut’s attention fully back to him.

Then the heat flared above them again.

Wisp dove, but far too late.

The full force of the flame dropped on them, heat and pressure driving them into the ground, drawing knives of pain up their legs,their back, their shoulders. A weak involuntary cry escaped them as they dropped, cane falling from their fingers, loosed in a spasm of pain, and shade took their vision as their head hit the ground. In the last moment a flare of light burst behind their vision, and they felt the crystal always with them resonate - a last, protective hand of Hydaelyn cupping around them, softening their fall from the world.

           — 

Hsss

The hiss became a shrieking cry, piercing enough to cut into the haze of pain that engulfed them. Wisp forced their eyes open a crack.

Onawa. Akhutai…

They could see nothing at first, just the indistinct blue glow of the platform, then the blur of crackling red flame circling its edge. A gust of wind blew over them, stinging in the burns along their arms and back. Wisp stirred, managing to lift their head enough to see up. And up, and up, as Bahamut spiraled up and away from them, trickles of blood scattering from his wings as he lifted. Onawa and Akhutai stood, still tall, firm - unharmed - watching him rise. In a last gust of air, Bahamut disappeared.

Done…?

Another roar echoed through the chamber, shaking the very structure of the space. Not done.

Bahamut screamed - closer this time, and at the very edge of their vision Wisp saw him drop to hover at the edge of the ring, just in time to see him fix his eyes on Onawa. 

Onawa no! Wisp tried to shout it, but their voice wouldn’t obey, their fingers that scrabbled uselessly beside them would not find their cane, rolled now just beyond their reach. 

Bahamut dove.

No.

His claws raked for Onawa’s shoulders, the force of the pressure he sent before him knocking her from her feet as she tried to twist to aim her lance up into his passing wing. Wisp saw her drop to her knees, then, with a sigh of breath, she dropped to the ground, lance clattering down beside hher.

No, Onawa, no, no. 

Wisp tried to summon their strength, to grasp at the healing magic, but they couldn’t reach the aether around them without the channel of their cane. Not Onawa, please. The cane lay just beyond their reach, and Wisp tried to inch along the floor, to stretch just that much further, but their body wouldn’t obey them - they pushed up to one elbow but their arm gave out beneath them. Tears gathered at the edges of their eyes and fell unchecked as the pain swam up through them again. 

They couldn’t reach the aether of the world around them without their cane, but they still had their own aether. Wisp fixed their eyes on Onawa, where their friend lay, too far from them, face turned away, blood trickling from the slice to her shoulder, and turned their attention inward, E-Sumi-Yan’s calm-voiced warnings sounding ignored at the back of their mind ignored, and reached for the core of aether at their own heart. Slowly they felt the weave of it come loose - now just to grasp

Pain roared through them, fire in their limbs, their heart, their nerves, and everything cut out, Onawa lost to their vision.

     —

A piercing shriek cut the air. Wisp’s eyes jerked open, mind swimming hazily back to consciousness through the heavy waves of pain still radiating up their tail, their legs, their back. Onawa? Akhutai? But Onawa lay where Wisp had seen her, tall form just visible across the platform, back to them. But what…

The shriek came again, closer this time, and one ear swivelled almost automatically to catch the sound. Was it just their imagination, their desire for relief, or did one of Onawa’s long ears twitch, too? A shadow streaked by just above them -  the heavy, scaled tail of some draconic creature swinging overhead. Sluggish mind frantic now, Wisp dragged one knee up toward their chest - so, so, slowly - and, gritting their teeth against the scathing burns, fang piercing their bottom lip unheeded, they pushed until they could get an elbow beneath them, just enough so that they could lift their head and turn it. In another second, their arm shuddered and gave way beneath them, dropping them to the ground again. But it was enough.

Enough for them to see, as if through a veil, the great muscular form of a draconian creature slump forward and fall, Akhutai’s axe buried between the horns on its head. As it fell a cry more feel than sound echoed - a last lament of pent up rage and pain trapped and amplified by the Allagans for years on years on years - and Wisp felt tears spring to their eyes. This place…

Akhutai just had time to free his axe and stand back, his own scaled tail moving with some emotion or agitation, before another creature came barreling over the edge of the platform, teeth bared as it made for Akhutai. With no change in his settled expression, Akhutai turned to face the new onslaught, back to Wisp, twisted to avoid one set of raking claws, and, as the creature reared back, severed the creature’s neck. Another wave of burning rage and sorrow washed through the air. Wisp just saw Akhutai step back, shoulders down, head bowed before their own eyes slid shut against the echo of pain that the wave called up from their own body. 

Enough.

The single word came from everywhere and nowhere, Bahamut’s voice ringing through Wisp’s head loud enough to rattle their teeth.

We have played this game long enough. 

Heat rocked the air, sucking the moisture from it in an instant. Wisp gasped, and opened their eyes to a nightmare. Flames wrapped the platform, spiraling up and up into nothingness. And above them, Bahamut hovered, wings stretched outward, lightning flaring, cracking and snapping as it struck him and struck out from him. Across the platform Onawa stirred again, pushing herself to her elbows to look up, as well. 

Bahamut opened his arms, head tipped back as the lightning gathered, but his eyes remained fixed on one spot. On Akhutai, a dark silhouetted against the backdrop of fire, standing tall but, against the spinning tower of flame, still a single, lone figure.

No. The single word was all that could register in Wisp’s mind. They twisted hand seeking their cane. They had to get up. They had to…

There, a slight shadow on the ground through the blinding afterglow of the fire. Wisp reached, and the world flared bright. Light erupted from Bahamut’s chest, knocking Wisp flat, staff clattering away across the floor. Onawa fell, too, pressed to the ground by the pressure slammed out from the dragon’s gathering spell.

No.

Wisp forced their head up, vision blurry through the mess of pain- and panic-wrought tears.

Against the fire, Bahamut opened his wings wide, wider, the flare of light from his chest burning.

Against the fire, Akhutai still stood, unbowed, head lifted toward Bahamut, horns silhouetted against the light. 

Bahamut roared. 

Akhutai lifted his axe, up, out and down in a shielding spell. 

And, in the last instant, head canted to one side, one corner of his mouth curled up.

The world exploded.

No.

Columns of fire shot down from the sky, straight for where Akhutai stood, a tidal wave of fire roiling out from Bahamut’s suspended form, deafening thunder cracking as lightning split the air. All was heat, sound, pressure, light, pain, forcing Wisp against the ground skidding their back across the floor with the force of it, a soundless cry ripped from them until they lost all sense of body, of thought, of reason, of anything but the light and the heat.

Then, suddenly, absence. Nothing.

A chill in the sudden retreat of flame. Air, rushing. And pain.

Akhutai…Onawa… With the first return of thought, Wisp forced one swollen eyelid open, then the other.

The world was dark. Fire extinguished.

In the faint glow that remained, Akhutai still stood. 

He turned to face the center of the platform, axe still held in unburned hands, expression calm. Unbowed, again. 

Unharmed.

A sob of relief caught in Wisp’s raw throat. Unharmed.

Akhutai looked briefly to Wisp at the noise that escaped them, then Onawa. Onawa! She, too, lay further back on the platform than she had before the blast, but as Wisp looked one hand shifted.

But where…

Akhutai’s attention snapped back to the center of the platform, just as Bahamut dropped from the shadows, the blow from his wing deflected by a quick block from Akhutai’s axe. For a moment, they stilled, the summoned dragon’s pain-mad eyes meeting the Au Ra’s steady ones. Then Bahamut struck again, again deflected. 

He roared, throwing his body back, and a searing light streamed from the sky. In it coiled all the tortured energy that ever had gathered here - pain and fear and grief and rage and hate wrapped together, given form. It struck Akhutai where he stood. And again. And again. 

Please, please, no. Wisp pushed themselves to their hands. Their knees. This was not a blow meant to be taken alone. Below Bahamut, across the ring, they saw Onawa rise, too, crouching balanced on one knee. She looked up, scars stark against her skin, a fierce determination showing through the distance-wrought shadows, and her gaze met Wisp’s. 

Wisp pushed themselves to one foot, but the muscles gave beneath them, spent. Bahamut beat his wings once, twice, scattering flames and a force that blasted back over Wisp and Onawa with each, and Wisp saw Onawa collapse again even as she felt her own knees give way, nausea rising. And again that impossible blue light gathered. 

Hydaelyn, please, no…

Prayer and spell together on their lips, Wisp fixed their gaze on that light, reached for the aether at their core once more, and stretched out their hand. A light of another kind trickled into their palm. Across the ring, Onawa, still on her knees, lifted her head, her hand extended, too. 

Bahamut’s light slammed down.

Wisp took in a last breath, gathering a final strength.

And Akhutai burst through the ray of Bahamut’s force, shedding it from scales and skin like water. The light flared from the copper bracer on his wrist, from the blade of his axe as he swung it down over his head, burying it one, final time, in the center of this shade Bahamut’s chest.

The light everywhere dimmed, died.

Bahamut fell back, a shattering cry screaming up his throat. Akhutai stepped back, freeing his axe neatly from the gaping, empty void in Bahamut’s chest, standing ready. 

But readiness was no longer needed.

Slowly, from the echoing empty wound to the tips of his wings, Bahamut began to disintegrate. To dissipate.

And as Akhutai stood witness to this last stand of the end of this once-great dragon driven to madness in its eternal torture, the last shades of the pain wrought over and over in this place crept out through the aether, and Wisp felt their mind slip toward darkness again.

—

“What happened here?! Akhutai! Onawa…Wisp?” Alphinaud’s voice drifted over them from somewhere.

“They will be fine. Hydaelyn’s blessing will take hold soon.”

“But they…”

“We will bring them out. It will help.”

“And Bahamut…?”

“Gone.”

“Good. It’s over.” That was Alisae’s voice. Shaky, but close.

“Yes.” And Akhutai’s voice was close, too. They could feel others close by them, living aether, living bodies. “Gather their weapons, will you?” Then something touched them, a hand on their shoulder, an arm shifting their body, and new lines of pain screamed along their veins, taking them under again.

—

“Wisp. You awake yet?” This voice, too, was familiar, rough in sound but gentle in tone. Onawa’s. Onawa coughed, once, and true recognition hit.

Wisp opened their eyes, and above them was sunlight. True sunlight, filtered through the welcoming canopy of leaves. The sight of it brought tears springing to their eyes, and they spread their hands, sensation returning slowly as they sank their hands, their claws into the silky grass and soft moss beneath them. Sensation - but not pain. 

They sat up, blinking, and looked sharply to where Onawa’s voice had come from. She sat paces away, knees pulled up to chest, ears tilted back, but not on alert. 

Safe, they were safe.

Wisp inspected Onawa, who looked back at her, one brow lifted as she eased out her legs to dig in one pocket, withdrawing her pipe a moment later. No burns laced her arms, no bandages crossed her shoulder. Wisp looked down at their own hands. Burn free, as well, and their tail twitched behind them, mobile as ever. 

They looked back to Onawa, and something in their eyes must have spoken some message, for Onawa laid her pipe aside a moment, and reached over to clasp Wisp’s wrist as Wisp reached for her. They stayed like that a moment, wrists clasped briefly in each other’s hands, almost a physical touch of the Echo, and Wisp saw the same echoed memory of horror, of loss, of discovery and witness, in Onawa’s eyes as they felt in themselves. An ache of bone-deep pain even when the true pain was gone.

��Aye, but it’s done.” Onawa released them, and leaned back against the bole of a tree, lifting one hand in a small greeting as the other picked up her pipe again. Wisp looked to where Onawa had waved. There was no sign of Akhutai - gone as quietly as he had come, though the image of him standing against the landscape of Bahamut’s flame, ever unbowed, remained etched in their mind. But, across the clearing, Alphinaud and Alisae were just appearing up the path, white hair bright in the patch of sun they walked through, talking animatedly amongst themselves.

It’s done. It was done. And yet a legacy, too, lived on.

[mysterium-xiv]

Several Wizards go poking around a rather large Allagan ruin in search of refined adamantite. 

Featured: @ofeightblades, @pale-eastern-star, @gravyffxiv, @little-purple-thundercloud, @sakata-no-anzu, @scales-claws-and-thorns, @furys-mercy, @khalacrumbles and Athalos Dorinthian.

[foewreckem]

determination, alaq’it.

[inspired by a previous rp with @thelegendofivalice , @thecat-inthehat, and @silverscalesgoldeneyes]

[onwesterlywinds]

You each recognize one of the skeletons, intimately. You see their final moments playing out as though they were your own: a priest, a spy, a marquis, and a king.

The air around the tower becomes more turbulent, but it's nothing Akhutai Urit can't pilot them through. As the Prima Vista's shuttle approaches the isle by air, you see plenty of Garlean airships already docked there - as well as a sea vessel. Alaq'it Moks climbs up the back of a chair to see. Nivelth Ajuyn has elected to silently keep the cape that Zalera picked out, but she has an old battered flat cap on as well, her ears once more well hidden. Akhutai Urit slows the ship down considerably and steers around to attempt to keep them out of line of site of any Garleans. Akhutai Urit: Welcoming party. At least there's only a few of us. Sneaking in should be... easier. A'zaela Linh leans against the wall of the ship, eyes closed, a headache pounding against her skull. Sweat dots her brow, but she doesn't make any noise of discomfort. Alaq'it Moks: I kind of... forgot part of our problem was Garleans. Alaq'it Moks laughs awkwardly. Nivelth Ajuyn: Garleans are always a problem, Alaq'it. A'zaela Linh: ...We take them down if they're in the way. Akhutai Urit: Methinks you don't see the amount of forces that seem to be there. I don't care how powerful you or the stone thinks you are. Akhutai Urit starts looking for a place to land. Alaq'it Moks: You WERE saying much about how we are stronger than we believe. Akhutai Urit: I did. And I stand by that statement. Doesn't mean she can take on an army. A'zaela Linh grits her teeth, but says nothing more. Nivelth Ajuyn rubs her temples slightly, and settles back into what seems to be her default pose, of her right hand on her left shoulder. Nivelth Ajuyn: None of us can. That's why we work together. Alaq'it Moks pats A'zaela Linh's shoulder, careful to only touch the armor. There's a spot along a deserted cape that doesn't seem to be especially crowded - and you can see from the air that it is not patrolled. Akhutai Urit: Be ready to land. Akhutai Urit makes for the handy dandy deserted cape and begins landing operations. He keeps his attention out, however, in the case of needing to pull back out quickly. In all, the path ahead seems completely clear of Garleans, strangely enough. Nivelth Ajuyn: We're headed for the inside, correct? A'zaela Linh: Yes. I hear... A'zaela Linh trails off. A'zaela Linh: Inside. We need something inside. Akhutai Urit steps back from the controls and turns towards the others. Akhutai Urit: Unless we wish to go sightseeing, I'd suspect whatever we're looking for is inside, yes. If one looks to the entrance to the tower, the courtyard in front is completely devoid of soldiers at the moment. Nivelth Ajuyn frowns at A'zaela Linh and merely sighs slightly: she wants answers, but seeing as they're about to go find them, she can't say much more. A'zaela Linh: Are we ready? Are we landed? Alaq'it Moks looks around. Even if her head is still slightly scrambled, her eyes and limbs remember Edge Marbrand's training. Alaq'it Moks: Where... are they... Akhutai Urit: We're landed. We should be ready for anything. The lack of... anyone is disconcerting. Nivelth Ajuyn nods as well, and summons an Egi. The winged yellow creature lets out a soft cry, and lands on her right shoulder. A'zaela Linh: Perhaps it's a trap. We will find out soon enough. Akhutai Urit: I'm more or less assuming everything is a trap at this point. Alaq'it Moks shrug at Akhutai Urit. Alaq'it Moks: And, up to this point. But no soldiers arrive for the time being. The path ahead remains clear, and the massive golden door lies open, with an inscription beside it: Lo, seeker in days unborn, god-blade bearer. Know you: this tower challenges the sky. Ware the watcher; the ward of the Three waits, soul-hungry, unsated. He without power, want it not. He with power, trust it not. He with sight, heed it not. Rend illusion, cut the true path. A'zaela Linh can barely read that, let alone fully understand what it means. Alaq'it Moks mutters the choice words she CAN make out. Nivelth Ajuyn crouches down to get a better look at it, and scribbles the whole thing into her grimoire, while reading it aloud for A'zaela Linh's benefit. Alaq'it Moks: God... tower... sky? Alaq'it Moks sighs. Alaq'it Moks: There will be stairs. A'zaela Linh: Trust it not... Akhutai, you truly didn't need go through all the trouble to tell me twice. Nivelth Ajuyn: Ward of the Three, soul hungry. Great. Akhutai Urit: You don't appreciate it? A'zaela Linh: Perhaps less than I should. Alaq'it Moks nonchalantly places herself between them. Alaq'it Moks: Well then. We are to cut the path? Alaq'it Moks draws out a knife and moves to stab the door. A'zaela Linh: What are you- Nivelth Ajuyn: It probably doesn't mean literal cutting. Alaq'it Moks staggers back, as the stone door doesn't absorb the shock. A good ear MIGHT hear her swear. A'zaela Linh cringes with pain. Nivelth Ajuyn: ... Did we try... opening it? Nivelth Ajuyn's voice is just shy of sounding sarcastic. Akhutai Urit 's gaze falls back upon the entrance and the wide open door, not paying much heed to the door stabbing. Akhutai Urit: ...I'll take point. If there's no objection. A'zaela Linh: ...Please do. The Garleans have taken up the space inside the hall - including upon a wide elevator directly within the center of the tower. But so too do you see stairs nearby, in a secluded corner, leading not up but down. Alaq'it Moks is now very concerned that she helped A'zaela make the wrong choice - several wrong choices. She muses, however, that it is now far too late to do anything but continue. Nivelth Ajuyn frowns slightly, and edges to the darker corners of the room, keeping an eye on any Garleans. Akhutai Urit sees the many Garleans and his eyes narrow. Doing his best to not be seen, he inches his way to the stairs. He's not quite sure if down is the right way to go but it's away from the Imperials. Maybe they'll get lucky for once. A'zaela Linh's instincts are telling her up, up. Shemhazai wants to raise Ultima to the heavens, does she not? But her allies are going down... It isn't an easy choice, but the others are going down, and doesn't think she can be alone right now. Alaq'it Moks takes rear, carefully watching to make sure that the Garleans do not spy their descent. A'zaela Linh doesn't put up a fight, either - she simply follows where the majority of the auracite is headed. Nivelth Ajuyn makes sure that her Garuda isn't glowing nearly as much, and it trills softly on her shoulder. The darkness is so heavy as to be oppressive. And yet a power lurks here regardless - one that puts each of the Lucavi on alert. Alaq'it Moks blinks against the darkness, just dimly aware of Nivelth Ajuyn's bird. Nivelth Ajuyn unclasps her right arm from her shoulder, lifting Garuda up. The Egi's glow increases with a soft little shriek. Akhutai Urit's movements become stiffer and each step further becomes more and more difficult as his heartbeat quickens. Still, he leads, trying not to make his growing fear too obvious. Nivelth Ajuyn has the strong impression of having walked these steps before... long ago. Alaq'it Moks moves her hands and summons a star that should be blinding... but anyone who saw it in the Barheim Passage will notice the light is slightly greener. She frowns and tries to steel herself. The light isn't constant, and she needs time to gather herself each time she calls it down. A'zaela Linh's eyes adjust to the darkness fairly well - she isn't nocturnal like Nivelth Ajuyn, but her eyes still adjust quicker than the average Hyur. That doesn't mean she can see anything except her hand in front of her, yet... Alaq'it Moks: I cannot keep a constant light. We should move slowly... except, where are we going? Nivelth Ajuyn touches Akhutai Urit's gloved arm gently, patting him, before starting to head forward. Nivelth Ajuyn: I think I have an idea where to go. Alaq'it Moks puts her arm out to find A'zaela Linh's, to try to pull them both to the sound of Nive patting Akhutai Urit's arm. Akhutai Urit finds comfort in the small amounts of light. He doesn't say anything as Nive passes him. A small bit of orange flickers in his eyes and he swallows hard. A'zaela Linh is easily dragged away in any which direction needed to go. Nivelth Ajuyn pauses, then takes her stone out of her pocket. It glimmers slightly, and she frowns at it. Nivelth Ajuyn: You've been here before. Show me the way. It does so. The Gemini stone leads Nive - and, by extension, the party - thirteen floors down, past howling creatures and flickering ghosts. Alaq'it Moks intermittently lights the way with the star; as the party goes unchallenged, the light is cleaner. She keeps Scorpio resolutely in her pocket. Cuchulainn is, perhaps, lying inactive out of fear. Nivelth Ajuyn keeps walking forward, avoiding monsters and casting spells that instantly kill smaller ones. Garuda is glowing still, brightening up the room somewhat, but it's not that much. The party hears a keening wail. Nivelth Ajuyn: What was that? Alaq'it Moks: A keening wail... A'zaela Linh recognizes the sound: someone Shemhazai loved made it - several thousand years ago. Akhutai Urit: Does it matter. Akhutai Urit's voice is nearly absent, though. Something else was taking his attention. Alaq'it Moks pretends not to feel Nive's stare, alternating between patting Akhutai's arm and A'zaela's. A'zaela Linh: ...Yes. A'zaela Linh steps forward and instantly staggers, falling to her knees. Nivelth Ajuyn: A'zaela...! Alaq'it Moks: A'z- Alaq'it Moks kneels by her. A'zaela Linh: I don't know. A'zaela Linh presses a hand firmly against the side of her face. A'zaela Linh: I don't know, but she does. Shemhazai's stone burns an angry purple against A'zaela Linh's chest. Akhutai Urit: I don't particularly feel that is a good thing. Nivelth Ajuyn goes to check on her, but hesitates before actually touching A'zaela's shoulder. Alaq'it Moks: Do you sense... that she is angry? Alaq'it Moks is experiencing no small amount of regret over getting A'zaela into this; as Cuchulainn's voice is quieted in fear, she understands the depth of his manipulation. A'zaela Linh: ...Terrified. Akhutai Urit takes in the meager amounts of light around them and his eyes, for a moment, shine a brilliant gold. Akhutai Urit: ...I can carry someone if needed. We must continue as best we can. Nivelth Ajuyn: ... I suppose I'm the only one that feels right at home here. Althyk this is bad.... Alaq'it Moks looks to the others, clenching her fists at her knees and collecting herself. Alaq'it Moks: If they are afraid, then it may be that we are going the right way. Alaq'it Moks nods to Akhutai and tries to help A'zaela stand. A'zaela Linh picks herself up, ignoring the searing pain in her chest, and the fear swelling in her heart. She takes Alaq'it's hand in hers and continues on. Nivelth Ajuyn: Tai? Are you good to continue on? Akhutai Urit speaks quietly. Akhutai Urit: He is not afraid. Or, perhaps, he is. Fear and anger are frequently similar. ...Just need to hold on to what separates us. Don't worry about me. Alaq'it Moks: Too late. Nivelth Ajuyn inhales deeply and gives a big sigh, but nods. She's rather uncomfortable with how okay she is with all of this. Akhutai Urit: Let us continue. Far below, on the thirteenth subterranean level, there is a long, dark hall. Along each wall lies what might once have been some form of machinery, but it lies broken and still and rusted. At the end of the hall, however, lie four broken skeletons - and sticking out from the empty ribs of one is an intricate greatsword, wrought in a metal the likes of which none of you have ever seen. You each recognize one of the skeletons, intimately. You see their final moments playing out as though they were your own: a priest, a spy, a marquis, and a king. The king's grandfather told him of this sword, and so did he go into the earth with his trusted friends to take up the ancient relic - to rid the world of the cursed zodiac stones, and halt the legend of the Zodiac Braves from ever taking root again. His lineage had granted him the birthright of Belias, and he raged to be free of it. The priest sought only remedy to the world and its ills, but had grown bitter and disillusioned until he could feel that bitterness begin to threaten the very fabric of his soul. He sought Cuchulainn for counsel, much as he himself sought to counsel the king, to guide him until the end. The marquis, ever loyal, had seen the stone's true power: a fatal blow upon a battle for the king's lands had meant nothing to him, except now he was doomed to live in flesh as cold as the grave until Zalera took him and his twin daughters for true. The spy detested every one of them; she sought only to serve her queen. She told the king of the marquis' apparent treachery, planted a suggestion from Shemhazai that the marquis would kill them all... and thus did the king divert from his plan of doing away with the stones and instead plunged the Sword of Kings into his oldest friend's heart. Nivelth Ajuyn stares down at the skeleton of the Marquis, and crouches down next to it. Nivelth Ajuyn: ... We're just all the same in a long, long chain of hosts and tools to be used by these things, aren't we? Akhutai Urit walks over to the king and nudges the skeleton with his foot. His eyes fall upon the sword. Akhutai Urit: Don't speak as if it's not something we can break. A'zaela Linh forces down the bile in her throat. Her hands -- her entire body is shaking, as though a chill had run her through. Nivelth Ajuyn: Chains can always be broken and rusted, Tai. I think you know that. Alaq'it Moks feels A'zaela's shaking through the hand she holds. Akhutai Urit: Considering the many bindings I've had to break free of, I am intimately aware of their fragility. A'zaela Linh reaches up to grab her auracite, to rip it from her throat and leave it here, never to be seen again - but pain rushes through her body, and she cannot commit. She squeezes Alaq'it's hands tighter, so, incredibly grateful that she still has someone by her side. Alaq'it Moks winces in pain as A'zaela's grip tightens, but holds the hand tightly. She knows now it is not only her own regret she is feeling; she feels the heart of the priest, and knows he had sought to do only as Alaq'it did. To find the wisdom to save what was dear. Nivelth Ajuyn goes to touch the sword that's stabbed through one of the skeletons, and flinches as she can feel a phantom pain in her own chest. A'zaela Linh: What... what do we do now? We cannot... let this happen to us. And if I was the one who did this, I... Nivelth Ajuyn: You were not a spy for some Dynast-Descendant several centuries ago, A'zaela. This was not you. A'zaela Linh thinks of how her hand had almost grabbed for her knife - how Shemhazai had tempted her to plunge it through Alaq'it's heart. In the darkness, it all feels too much, like it might swallow her up. Alaq'it Moks: Nive is right. THIS is you. Alaq'it Moks wiggles the hand she's grasping in the air. Akhutai Urit walks up to Nive's side, eyes never leaving the sword. Akhutai Urit: They were so easily manipulated. They were weak. We are not. A'zaela Linh: You're right. A'zaela Linh stares at her hand in Alaq'it's. A'zaela Linh: Disarm me. Shemhazai protests, loudly, painfully, but A'zaela Linh has never felt more clarity. Alaq'it Moks deftly moves to comply. Her body almost seems to miss close combat. She motions to Akhutai to get the lance; it looks heavy. Akhutai Urit nods and moves to relieve A'zaela Linh of her lance. Nivelth Ajuyn hasn't pulled up from the greatsword, and watches the changing of weapons with overshadowed eyes. A'zaela Linh: ...Perhaps the rest of you should leave. A'zaela Linh's gaze focuses on Nivelth Ajuyn. Alaq'it Moks is thinking furiously, but she is so, so out of her depth with such magic. She moves to see what sense she gets from the sword in the priest. Akhutai Urit sets A'zaela's lance on his back next to his own. Akhutai Urit: Leave? I don't know how well any of you know me to make such a suggestion. The priest had been the second to be cut down, after he had tried to reason with the spy. But the moment his lifeblood had spilled across the stone floor, he had been unable to stop the king from sending the sword through her gut. Alaq'it Moks gingerly lays her hand on the hilt of the sword, muttering the closest thing she can think of to a prayer. Alaq'it Moks: I made your mistakes, too. Please give me the strength to help correct them. The sword gives no response that you can perceive; however, again the demons within the stones seem to shrink back, preparing to possibly rise up. Alaq'it Moks feels the retreat of the stone, but instead of feeling relief, she remembers the sight of the ocean pulling away from the shore before a tidal wave. She shuts her eyes tight and pulls, fast. Nivelth Ajuyn looks at the sword, then to Alaq'it, and A'zaela. Nivelth Ajuyn: ... We all wish to end this, don't we? To break this cycle, to destroy these stones? Akhutai Urit watches Alaq'it grab the sword. Akhutai Urit: And so we shall. A'zaela Linh: ...It's the only thing I've thought about for the past month. A'zaela Linh slowly removes the necklace with the auracite from her body. Her entire being burns from the effort - she already has blisters on her chest from even the thought of removing it. Her hands are gloved, but they, too, take damage - she's almost surprised they don't set aflame from Sagittarius' anger. Nivelth Ajuyn watches A'zaela carefully, wishing she had access to her own healing spells for her friend's sake. A'zaela Linh moves away from the stone, from Nivelth. She isn't steady, and she stumbles slightly, grabbing on to Akhutai's arm briefly, then apologizing. Akhutai Urit holds out his arm for A'zaela to grab onto anyway and holds it out to help keep her steady. A'zaela Linh takes it, realizing for the first time that it wasn't Nivelth asking her to put the stone down was what made her do it. It was the image of Alaq'it's hand in hers, and the way she trusted Akhutai enough to grip onto his arm. It was that she trusted Nivelth enough to even place the dangerous stone down in front of her. Alaq'it Moks looks over to Akhutai. She's struggling to lift the sword. Alaq'it Moks: Akhutai... while I would love to strike this down and save something for once, I cannot lift this thing. If I take A'zaela, would you try this? Alaq'it Moks holds the hilt toward him. Nivelth Ajuyn gives a smile to A'zaela, and then looks at Akhutai. Nivelth Ajuyn: Can you do the honors? I doubt this will actually work, but... Akhutai Urit gives a hum of acknowledgement before reaching for the sword with his free hand. And as soon as his left hand closes around the hilt, he feels Belias within the stone seemingly recoil horribly. This causes him to grin despite himself. Akhutai Urit: Their reaction is promising regardless. I will try. Alaq'it Moks moves to take over A'zaela's support and claps him on the back. Alaq'it Moks: You, as they say, got this. A'zaela Linh shifts to hold on to Alaq'it once more, trying her hardest to not burden anyone, but unable to completely commit to that due to the pain she was in. Nivelth Ajuyn has Garuda hold the stone steady, and scoots back so Akhutai Urit can attempt to hack it to bits. Alaq'it Moks lays the strongest healing spell she can confidently manage on A’zaela as Akhutai readies himself. Akhutai Urit steps forward and holds out the blade over the stone, measuring. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulls the blade overhead before swinging it down upon it. The stone shatters into needle-fine shards, and Shemhazai screams. With her final wail, you can hear her speak the name of Ultima - a warning to her lady alone. For a moment, the world is deafened, and then the sound of the darkness all around you rushes back. Alaq'it Moks staggers. A'zaela Linh breathes, long and deep, as the stone shatters. Her skin is yet burned, and her body still tires, but she is free, and she feels that weight lifted from her chest as Shemhazai's hold over her mind dissipates. The scream is familiar, the same one she's heard both times she's let Shemhazai go, but this time... it is a requiem, a blessing. Alaq'it Moks: Ultima... Alaq'it Moks squeezes A'zaela's hand once more, before stepping in front of Akhutai, Scorpio in hand. She holds it up to him. Alaq'it Moks: I asked you to cut something down today, if needed. It will not be me. It will never be me. I will be stronger from here, so please, cut this one. Alaq'it Moks whispers one more prayer to the priest as she sets the stone on the ground where A'zaela's had been. A'zaela Linh whispers Alaq'it's name, too relieved to cry. Akhutai Urit exhales slowly. Akhutai Urit: ...I wonder if the holder of Ultima will give us trouble. Akhutai Urit knows they all know who the holder is but... Akhutai Urit nods at Alaq'it Moks. Akhutai Urit: I know. I made my promise. But I knew. Akhutai Urit again prepares the sword. Again, he swings the blade, face blank of emotion, eyes flickering. The stone oozes, then melts; Cuchulainn gives one last odious laugh before all traces of him are gone. When next you breathe in, the air feels pure and clean in ways you did not know it could before. Alaq'it Moks grabs A'zaela's arm in a manner that is almost giddy; she collects herself and looks toward Nive and Akhutai. She's almost too exhilerated to speak. Akhutai Urit drags the tip of the blade along the ground before picking it up. He looks at Nive. Nivelth Ajuyn stares up at Tai, reaching for the stone in her pocket. And she pauses. Alaq'it Moks: ...Ah. Alaq'it Moks wonders if she has jinxed something. Nivelth Ajuyn she goes to stand, the stone held losely in her left hand, staring at him, before shaking her head. Nivelth Ajuyn: ... I think not. Akhutai Urit: I was afraid of that. Alaq'it Moks moves in front of A'zaela, putting her hands on her hips to face Nive. Or... Nive? Nivelth Ajuyn frowns, and moves to rip off the hat. It flutters to the ground. Nivelth Ajuyn: Annoying thing. Alaq'it Moks picks up the hat. Akhutai Urit tilts his head. Akhutai Urit: Do you think you have power here? Alaq'it Moks: This is hers. She is hers. Alaq'it Moks' voice isn't angry; it's even. She takes a step closer to Nive, holding the hat. A'zaela Linh, moaning and sweating bullets besides, falls to her knees. A'zaela Linh: I'm sorry. A'zaela Linh passes out for the first time since she lost her memory, hitting the ground loudly. Nivelth Ajuyn: Do you think you could step into my domain and challenge me? This is mine, all of it. This death and darkness. Nivelth Ajuyn points at Akhutai Urit. Nivelth Ajuyn: And you fear it. Alaq'it Moks: A'ZAELA! Alaq'it Moks runs back and checks her friend; besides some bruises, A'zaela seems to be stricken by exhaustion, and Alaq'it pats her carefully before turning back to Nive and Akhutai. Nivelth Ajuyn's eyes flicker to A'zaela with something approaching fear in them, for a split second, then her gaze turns back to Akhutai. Akhutai Urit ponders that for a moment. Akhutai Urit: Ah. Yes. I do suppose I fear the dark. Death, not so much. Akhutai Urit's eyes land on A'zaela and he takes a step closer to her and Alaq'it. Akhutai Urit: And even if I still feared death, I would get nowhere if I let it stop me. Who would I protect? How would I live? You're going to need something stronger than fear. Nivelth Ajuyn frowns, her lips pulling down into a snarl that bares slight fang. Nivelth Ajuyn: Such a mortal ideal. Nivelth Ajuyn looks to Alaq'it, to the hat. Nivelth Ajuyn: Everything here is mine. Including this host. Why do you petty creatures persist in living, when there is nothing of value in struggling against the tide! Alaq'it Moks: Nive. Alaq'it Moks lets Akhutai continue to speak to the demon, and calls out to the host, almost cheerfully. Alaq'it Moks: Nive. How many tides have we crested to get this far? Nivelth Ajuyn seems to... stumble, just slightly, at Alaq'it's words. Akhutai Urit: If everything here was yours, we would be dead and I wouldn't be holding the sword that can destroy you. ...Value is what we make of it. Perhaps it is because we are mortal that we can find value in life. Love, friendship, beauty. It is death that makes us appreciate these things because how else could we know how precious life is? Alaq'it Moks is next to Nivelth Ajuyn now. Alaq'it Moks: But truly, we would like to appreciate these things a bit longer in life. We ought to see how much more we can make of all those things, no? Alaq'it Moks says this almost as a conversational aside to Akhutai, while gently putting the hat back on Nive's head. Nivelth Ajuyn's gaze flickers between the two of them, and the sneer lessens somewhat. She's faltering - Zalera is faltering. She shakes her head, some of the light coming back into her eyes, some of the warmth. Her fingers loosen around the stone, and it clatters to the ground, and she buries her face in her hands, shoulders shaking with near-silent sobs. The darkness around them almost swallows them up, but not quite. Nivelth Ajuyn: I’m- I’m sorry, I-I picked up the damn stone and every waking moment has been knowing that you all will die and I’ll be alone again-- Alaq'it Moks: Not today. Because you let him go. Because you were strong. Alaq'it Moks takes Nivelth Ajuyn's arms and makes way for Akhutai and the sword. Nivelth Ajuyn: I'm not- Alaq'it Moks: Do you think none of us here know how hard it is to set a stone down? Alaq'it Moks' tone isn't angry. Akhutai Urit: It is as she says. We will all die. But it certainly is not this day. Besides, the one thing I believe in is rebirth. We can all find each other again, if we so desire it. We won't leave you alone. Akhutai Urit uses the tip of the sword to drag the stone closer and into position. Nivelth Ajuyn swallows thickly, and points at him. Nivelth Ajuyn: I'm holding you to that. I don't know how, but I will. Nivelth Ajuyn kicks the stone towards him, before almost falling into Alaq'it's arms. Akhutai Urit gives a warm smile. Akhutai Urit: Trust me, you aren't the only one. Akhutai Urit swings the sword down on this next stone. Nivelth Ajuyn falls to her knees, crying out in pain as she holds onto her head. The hat is knocked slightly askew, but doesn't come off. Zalera isn't leaving her mind without a fight, and she has to force him out, flinging him with all her metaphysical might into the stone that is just under Akhutai's blade. The stone crumbles into dust. There's a shout of defiance, a wailing sob - and then the world around you feels much brighter, despite the ever-encroaching darkness. Living no longer seems so great a trial. When the stone shatters into fine crystal, something on Nivelth Ajuyn's forehead glimmers faintly, before going dark. Alaq'it Moks looks to Akhutai Urit now. Alaq'it Moks: Unless YOU are hiding any more fights, it is now your turn, yes? You must still destroy your own stone, however. Alaq'it Moks is grinning; she meant the first part as a joke. Akhutai Urit pauses just check over Nivelth Ajuyn, satisfied that she's still with them. Akhutai Urit: And now- Akhutai Urit is immediately cut off. The sword falls from his grasp. While he makes no noise, his eyes show nothing but pain. Alaq'it Moks: ...His... his is Belias, yes? We may... have a problem... Nivelth Ajuyn nods, frowning as well. Nivelth Ajuyn: Tai...? Tai, what's wrong? Alaq'it Moks: Akhutai, do not make me cross-- There is the smell of burning flesh, leather, and cloth coming from Akhutai Urit. Alaq'it Moks pinches her nose. Akhutai Urit manages one word: "Pouch." Alaq'it Moks lunges for the pouch, pulling it off of his belt and casting it down to the floor. Alaq'it Moks: Are you- is that alright? Alaq'it Moks looks at the arm in alarm. Nivelth Ajuyn flicks her fingers and a bit of ice comes to her fingers. Nivelth Ajuyn: Tai- No, we should destroy the stone... Akhutai Urit falls to his knees as soon as the pouch is free of his person, left hand hitting the ground beside him as his left arm hangs rather uselessly. Nivelth Ajuyn rushes for the sword, and starts to lift it up, looking at Alaq'it. Nivelth Ajuyn: H-help me, it's just heavy enough -- Alaq'it Moks rushes to the other side of the sword and uses her foot to kick up the blade, giving them momentum for an upswing. Nivelth Ajuyn helps the blade along, and the two women bring the sword crashing down onto the stone. The sword slices through the leather, and then the stone. Belias gives a roar of agony, of hatred, and then - after a breathless moment in which it seems time has stopped - he is gone. The last of this flock to be sacrificed. Nivelth Ajuyn sags, and lets the sword fall out of her grasp, before falling down onto her rump. Nivelth Ajuyn: ...Did... Did we do it? Alaq'it Moks holds the hilt, looking around to the others. Akhutai Urit hisses as he attempts to move his arm. Akhutai Urit: ...We still have eight to go. But for us, this has been a victory. Now we know how to deal with them. Nivelth Ajuyn nods, rubbing her forehead a little bit. Nivelth Ajuyn: Y-yeah. We do. Words cannot express how relieved I am.

[penmae]

@silverscalesgoldeneyes ‘s Akhutai of the Urit! \o/ Gotta doodle Apa’s bestie... Also I’ve wanted to draw him for a long time but can’t capture the face structure yet... SO CHIBI BUBBLE IT IS.

[thecat-inthehat]

The Wine Cellars of Lea Monde

Ashelia Riot does not explain as she readies the team for the Lea Monde mission why her hair is now several ilms longer. Nor does she explain why she and Malla seem to be ill at ease with one another. Malla does, however, fly the team via the shuttle to their destination.

Seeing as he's shown up with an extra pair of large horns after an extended absence with no offered explanation, Tai is not prone to questioning such things.

Malla explains along the way that the city of Lea Monde lies well to the south of Dalmasca, through vast tracts of the Golmore Jungle. Fortunately, Malla knows from prior experience of a clearing through which an aircraft might land, and she pilots you to that area with little difficulty. Still, the city itself has been almost entirely transformed into a Garlean outpost. It is the capital of Dalmasca Inferior - the Garleans' "lesser" hold upon the region. Hinako’s book has this to say: “Lea Monde is an old town, with a history of over two thousand years. Its walls have seen many battles - they are stronger than the mightiest forts of Dalmasca, and as the sun wheels through the sky, the beauty of their shifting colors surpasses that of any palace.” Malla drops the party in the clearing, and soon you see the walls for yourself, even from a distance. Most of all, you see the Great Cathedral, towering above the skyline. Nearby, though you cannot see it from where you stand, is the sea.

Hinako Daigo would not show it but she is ill at ease, and before stepping off to Lea Monde she is heard and seen in intonation in her tongue. "...O kami of the four winds, I humbly request you do usher your guidance and bestow upon me and my own your divine guidance and graces. [Omamori]" Malla Velius departs - and she takes Priscilla's anxious look in stride. Nivelth Ajuyn looks calm, perhaps a tad more so than she should be, listening to the prayer silently. At her feet, an emerald carbuncle twines through her legs like an anxious cat. Akhutai Urit also looks calm. In fact, one could say he looks toward the Cathedral with veritable disinterest. Ashelia Riot: "Shall some of us survey ahead?" Though she herself proposed this mission, she does not entirely know what exactly they will be looking for in the city. Nivelth Ajuyn: "Do we know what we're looking for? Or is this going to be a bit like our survey to Rabanastre?" Ashelia Riot: "We're looking for... answers. I presume to do with the auracite. But yes - I imagine we'll gather as many clues as we can in a reasonable amount of time." Eindride Stokys looks concerned at mention of the survey being similar to Rabanastre and clutches his staff. Please no. Akhutai Urit moves just a bit ahead of the group without a word, eyes towards their destination. He looks around the area before give a slight shrug and moving forward a few more steps. Perhaps part of him manages to think that moving too far away from the group would be a bad idea, so he pauses. Hinako Daigo: "...Nothing for it but to move forward, then. I will go on ahead, as well" she responds, not just because she figures she will be able to pick up on necessary presence, but that Akhutai's demeanor has been leaving her somewhat guarded since the Prima Vista incident. || The upper reaches of the city appear to be swarming with Garleans. Hinako Daigo furrows her brow. Priscilla Scaevola has been uncharacteristically silent on the moments leading to this.  "I've got an idea." Ashelia Riot: "Yes?" Nivelth Ajuyn looks up at the city, frowning. "What's your idea, Pris?" Priscilla Scaevola: "They've must be aware the Prima Vista just swooped by.  I can probably stroll through there-" She gestures to the upper city. "- mostly unnoticed and see what information can I find." Nivelth Ajuyn wonders at the wisdom of that. Isn't Priscilla still wanted? Ashelia Riot: "While the rest of us remain hidden?" Ashelia Riot isn't entirely certain she likes the idea of Priscilla Scaevola going on her own. She suspects a certain romantic fool of a Garlean will murder her upon her return to the Sandsea. Nivelth Ajuyn: "Do you need one of us to pose as your servant or retainer? So you're not going alone?" Priscilla Scaevola shrugs. "It's an idea." She looks at Erindride. "He can probably blend with me. Looks like boyfriend material." Ashelia Riot: "..." Eindride Stokys eyes widen. "Can't say I agree with that." Priscilla Scaevola she looks at Eindride again. "We are from the Prima Vista, looking for material for a new play." Ashelia Riot shakes her head. Ashelia Riot: "After what happened over Kugane, the Majestic may not be the most popular people in the Empire at the moment." Priscilla Scaevola: "..." Reconsiders. "Yeah, no, I am not going up there." Ashelia Riot: "...Although." Akhutai Urit gives a hum of thought, "Surely a storied place such as that has...multiple entrances.." Eindride Stokys: "That could be a possibility." Ashelia Riot nods to Akhutai Urit. Ashelia Riot: "Precisely. And if we end up needing to go above ground for any reason, Priscilla can be a scout." Priscilla Scaevola mocks an appalled gesture at Erindride. "How quickly he to chose the sewers over his new girlfriend." She nods at Ashelia when given a position. "Can do that." Ashelia Riot: "Oh, leave him be." Eindride Stokys: "It'd be far more likely for me to have a boyfriend in the future rather than a girlfriend," it's not the best time, but he chuckles a bit. Hinako Daigo gives a soft grin. Nivelth Ajuyn waves her fingers, and her carbuncle gives a soft yip. "He can accompany you, if needed. I can set him up with diversion and poison cloud spells if you need to make a quick getaway. But I'd like to stick to the idea of not being noticed." Ashelia Riot: "As would I." Akhutai Urit sets his hands on the hilt of his sword with an almost disappointed expression but says nothing. Priscilla Scaevola: "I can be subtle. And got a few tricks up my sleeve if things go sour." Nivelth Ajuyn nods to Priscilla Scaevola. Ashelia Riot: "Now, then..." Ashelia Riot searches the vicinity, walking around for any potential underground openings. Ashelia Riot is, more than anything, getting impatient; she /knows/ something's there, but she cannot find it. Hinako Daigo: "Hmm..." Akhutai Urit also begins to search. though he seems..less inclined, for whatever reason. Hinako Daigo kneels respectfully. Hinako Daigo: "..." Hinako Daigo shrugs. Ashelia Riot: "It has to be here." By now she sounds frustrated, annoyed; she's close to drawing her stone from her pocket. Nivelth Ajuyn: "What are you looking for? What do you expect to find?" Akhutai Urit just...stares...in a direction. He sighs. "...Ashe." If he catches her attention, he just vaguely gestures. Ashelia Riot: "A path. Anything. I-" Ashelia Riot then catches sight of where Tai is looking. Ashelia Riot: "...That.” "That" is what appears to be a cellar door - almost identical to the one her father locked behind her during their last moments together before Ala Mhigo fell. The sight makes her heart lurch. Hinako Daigo watches Ashelia intently... Eindride Stokys: "I'd say that's our way in." Ashelia Riot steps forward and gives the door a heave. Its hinges creak as the old wood resists, but it opens with little effort. Ashelia Riot: "I'll take the rear." Akhutai Urit: "A cellar. How typical." Assuming no one else does it first, he just...goes in past the old doors. Hinako Daigo takes a breath and follows Akhutai in. Nivelth Ajuyn sniffs the air, her nose wrinkling slightly, but follows. Ashelia Riot ushers the others in before her. For perhaps the first time in this entire expedition, Ashe steps into the cool, darkened underground hall and feels something resembling peace. It reminds her of Ala Mhigo’s Undercity: though she’s never been in this place, though she does not know the way forward, the feeling of being so far under the earth is a comfortingly familiar sensation. Priscilla Scaevola closes her eyes briefly before entering. "Here we go..." || Until the ground trembles beneath the party’s feet. Akhutai Urit: "Exciting." Hinako Daigo looks down at the ground. "...?" Ashelia Riot: "Is everyone alright?" Priscilla Scaevola gaze travels from one of his companions to the next. Half expecting they caused it. "This bodes i'll. Which might mean we are heading the right way..." Nivelth Ajuyn distributes her weight easy enough, frowning slightly. She touches the stone in her pocket. Akhutai Urit: "I was beginning to worry this was going to be easy," he begins to smirk. Eindride Stokys looks a little shaken, but is otherwise fine. He nods to Ashelia. Hinako Daigo nods. "Yes, and I'm inclined to agree with Miss Priscilla." || The party have ended up in a cellar - a wine cellar, one of great renown throughout all of Hydaelyn. Priscilla Scaevola wants to steal. Hinako Daigo looks around. Akhutai Urit doesn't much care for wine and begins looking around. Eindride Stokys: "There's something odd about this place...", he says, staring at the walls. || It's all wine. Akhutai Urit is basically going to just wander off at this point until he finds something of note at all unless someone stops him. || Wine is boring. Peering more deeply and placing a hand flat onto the wall, Eindride’s odd feeling finally starts to make sense. "There's definitely been some Black magicks used in here." Priscilla Scaevola places her attention at the floor. If there is something below she expected to find a latch or looks under rugs if any. Nivelth Ajuyn looks around, while her carbu sniffs at the wines. She taps her finger against one of the barrels, and frowns. "... poison. I think some of these are poisoned." || There are no rugs; the floor seems ordinary. Ashelia Riot: "Poison?" Nivelth Ajuyn looks ... conflicted. "I ... don't know why, but it feels poisoned." Ashelia Riot thinks of how Nivelth Ajuyn poisoned a Garlean to death within seconds. Hinako Daigo saunters and studies every ilm she passes "Black magic, poison... all things considered, though, it is still a wine cellar. Assuredly quite an old and grand one, so... our path is not like to end here..." The dull thud of metal on wood can be heard down the way as Tai smacks his sword into a wine barrel. Nivelth Ajuyn investigates the barrel for a moment, and pulls it out slightly. In the brim of the wood, there's a hole in it, and what looks like a rat's corpse. The creature clearly died while trying to burrow into the wine, resulting in the poisoning of it. Ashelia Riot wrinkles her nose but offers no other sign of disgust. Nivelth Ajuyn: "Well. That's not useful." Priscilla Scaevola eyes widen at the revelation. "That's... not good..." Ashelia Riot: "Let's keep moving." Hinako Daigo stops for a moment to look back. She would rather not ask why poison the wine, for she can presume plenty. Hinako Daigo continues. Eindride Stokys stares at the rat's corpse. "We should exercise caution around these barrels in the very least..." Tai definitely notices that there are burn marks close to some of the walls. There are also scattered bottles, and discarded corks. People have been living here, though perhaps not recently. Akhutai Urit nudges an empty bottle with the tip of his sword. "We missed a party." Nivelth Ajuyn walks forward to catch up to Tai, tail flicking in agitation. Priscilla Scaevola: "It’s not a party until we get there. Are there any notes or belongings?" || There is a black mage's staff, made from a metal that you can't entirely seem to identify; whatever it is, it's beautifully wrought and contains a sphere of blown glass at its apex. Akhutai Urit: "I feel anyone with more expertise with magical focuses than I should take a look at that," Tai says, remarking on the staff. Priscilla Scaevola doesnt touch a thing. Eindride Stokys: "I can take a look...", he says a bit hesitantly. He's not sure if he even wants to touch it himself, in all honesty. Nivelth Ajuyn: "I can look it over," she offers. She doesn't sound concerned. Akhutai Urit: "Well, you two can have at it, I suppose." Eindride Stokys can feel the aether pulsing from the staff. "Whoever owned this, they were very experienced in magicks in the very least..." || The earth rumbles again, this time sending a shower of pebbles over the party's heads. Nivelth Ajuyn looks it over in Eindride's hands, but she gets nothing from it. "It... seems useless to me--what was that." Hinako Daigo observes the staff before looking up at the ceiling. "What on..." Akhutai Urit looks up at the ceiling as everything shakes again. He clicks his tongue. Ashelia Riot: "We need to hurry." Ashelia Riot has seen how cave-ins happen in the Undercity. Priscilla Scaevola nods. Nivelth Ajuyn scooches closer to Tai, her tail flicking rapidly. Eindride Stokys: "...Perhaps we'll get crushed before any of these odd findings can do any harm to us," despite the grim nature of the sentence he sounds rather cheery. Akhutai Urit smirks, "Death won't come so easily. I think time will be on our side, at least for a little while." He glances down at Nive before moving forward, but this time stopping before he gets too far ahead of the group and glances back. "Shall we keep moving?" His eyes flick to the staff, "Should we keep that or leave it behind?" Priscilla Scaevola: "Bring it, it might have an use down the road." That same strange expression comes over Ashelia Riot's face at Akhutai Urit's words, and she nods. Ashelia Riot: "Time enough with you at our side, my old friend." Akhutai Urit looks to Ashelia and his eyes Flash before he flashes a grin, "Of course." Hinako Daigo places a hand above her chest. "Right... Well, we are only building more questions than answers at the moment. Let alone a way through. And these tremors..." Eindride Stokys: "I can carry the staff along with, if need be," while he's a bit intimidated by the thing, he can't help but have his interest piqued by the staff at this point. Ashelia Riot nods to Eindride Stokys. Ashelia Riot: "By all means." Nivelth Ajuyn looks over at him, frowning at the staff, but sticks close to Tai as the group starts to move a bit. Ashelia Riot takes point for the next section, which is long and winding and unfinished. She takes them through what can only be the deepest infrastructure of the city, down to the fabled ramparts themselves - and the path leads them all further underground. Hinako Daigo remains silent, focused, trying to get a read on her environs as they get deeper and deeper. Akhutai Urit: "These people surely loved their underground infrastructures.." Nivelth Ajuyn: "You know, the last time Tai and I went underground, it didn't exactly end well," she mutters into the air, giving a shudder. "Can't wait to see how this one turns out." Akhutai Urit: "As long as our secrets and fears don't get turned against us this time." Priscilla Scaevola: "Last time I went undeground with Tai it didnt exactly end well either. " She grins. Akhutai Urit: "I believe we can conclude, then, that if something goes wrong, it is my fault." Nivelth Ajuyn: "Only if it's underground. I think you're in the clear otherwise." Nivelth Ajuyn beams with delight at Akhutai Urit. Akhutai Urit smirks. || At the end of the tunnel lies a pile of fabrics - Dalmascan civilian clothes. They aren't laid out in place of where someone died; they're thrown in a heap on the ground. Priscilla Scaevola pokes the pile of clothes with the barrel of her gun. || Some rats skitter out from inside the pile. Priscilla Scaevola: "Agh!" Hinako Daigo: "Abandoned garments? And they have been here for some time as well." Eindride Stokys: "Strange." Akhutai Urit: "Well then." Tai looks around, "...I can only think of grim circumstances." Hinako Daigo: "I have a bad feeling ... Signs of life underground, black magic, raiments cast aside..." Hinako Daigo: "Poisoned wine..." Priscilla Scaevola just shakes her head. She likes the fieldtrip less and less. Akhutai Urit: "If we continue much further, I'm nearly positive we'll find a body or two." Akhutai Urit: "Or what's left of one." Hinako Daigo: "Someone's endgame, whatever that may have been. Or may be." || As the party proceeds, the sense of wrongness further permeates their surroundings - especially for Eindride Stokys. However, if possible, the surroundings grow somewhat more refined - elegant. Akhutai Urit pulls his lips back into something reminiscent of a snarl and the grip on his sword tightens. He doesn't say anything, just tenses up in preparation for...something. Hinako Daigo is deep in thought.

[lovedbytheaxe]

Ashelia Riot goes to find Jenomis, just as she said she would; along the way she runs into Ingvald Bloodhound and orders him to keep an eye on Malla. Linini Mooglesworn: Will the troupe leave Kugane if we ask them to? Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: I don't think we're givin' them much of a choice! Nivelth Ajuyn: We're in their home, not ours... Sylvan Rain nudges Bull and whispers. Sylvan Rain: But what if we start a fight with them and then lead them away from the ship. Just some soldiers... Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn tightens a fist, eager at the prospect Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: Much as I'd love to we'd be stranded. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn looks back to Fawn. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: And I can't leave her here alone. Linini Mooglesworn: And then arrested by the Sekiseigumi. Linini Mooglesworn adds with an annoyed grunt. Sylvan Rain rests her hands on the back of her head and sighs, almost pouting, but says nothing. Timid Fawn looks to Bull and makes a peculiar face. Three Garlean soldiers have commandeered a shuttle to the Prima Vista; in the time it takes for Ashelia Riot to find Jenomis cen Lexentale, they have proceeded to break open the bay doors.

Linini Mooglesworn: All right, so they're forcing their way in. Linini Mooglesworn notes, her voice level. Linini Mooglesworn: Then they have reasonable cause to suspect our presence here. Akhutai Urit is glad he wore his sword. Timid Fawn regrets not having her axe..... Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: They don't even have tickets, awful mean of them to just barge in! Timid Fawn begins shoving and moving crates in front of the door in the hopes to slow them. Linini Mooglesworn is armed only with a dagger at her belt. Hinako Daigo tries hard to concentrate. Akhutai Urit places a hand on the hilt of his sword. Linini Mooglesworn draws the dagger at her belt, which feels too tiny even in her hands. The Garleans take an authoritative stance as they board from the airship's main entrance. There is still a hallway before they make it to the tiring room.

Nivelth Ajuyn pulls out her book, flipping through the pages until a carbuncle appears. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn rolls his shoulders, saying nothing. He begins to increase his pace until he's in a full sprint, straight toward the Garlean soldiers. Akhutai Urit draws his blade slowly, the metal of it clicking into place to resemble a katana. He smirks. Akhutai Urit: I do wonder if you fine people have permission to board. Akhutao Urit darts forward with the aim of cutting at least one down. Timid Fawn is just quiet, watching them for the moment with a hateful expression on her face. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn skids to a stop directly in front of the first soldier, winding up to throw an uppercut to dislodge the helmet from the soldier's head. It hits; the soldier goes down like a sack of bricks. Akhutai Urit moves to cut a deep diagonal slash across one of the soldiers. The momentum of his forward movement carries him past a little ways and he turns, readying his blade for another strike. Unbeknownst to the others, linkpearl turned off, Ashe whispers in the navigation deck. Ashelia Riot: Come on, Zaela. The second soldier is gravely wounded by Akhutai's strike; a shower of blood pools across the Prima Vista's rug. Timid Fawn hesitates, unsure if the guy even wants to come closer at this point... She charges towards him anyways tries to throw a pretty hefty punch towards his face. He, too, staggers and falls to his knees. Akhutai's victim manages to retreat back to the airship, dragging Bull's with him; however, the man Fawn punched is still prone. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn turns his attention to the prone solider, approaching him and placing a large hand on the top of their helmet, trying to pry it off. Linini Mooglesworn: Well, this will certainly summon a whole contingent of soldiers to the Prima Vista... The helmet comes off easily. Akhutai Urit growls as his victim makes for his escape. The grip on his sword tightens as his eyes flash. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn throws the helmet aside, it bounces off the wall and lands on the ground. In the same motion, Bull wraps his massive hand around the solider's throat, lifting him as high as he can. He finally speaks Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: Look me in the eye as I end your life. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn then begins to squeeze. Timid Fawn bolts over to Bull and tries to pry his hands off the soldier's throat. Timid Fawn: BULL. STOP. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn continues squeezing, as if in a trance, his eyes wild with rage. Hinako Daigo furrows her brow and pulls her shakujo out from behind her back... Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn finally gets what he's looking for, a sickening 'pop'. The soldier goes limp, and he tosses the body aside. Akhutai Urit marches over to exit where the Garleans were escaping and watches them. He seems to be fighting a battle of sorts with himself, eyes flashing all the while. Timid Fawn aims for the most vulnerable spot on a man... his eyes and nose. She hauls back a fist and punches him squarely in that region-- too late, she punched Bull and now there's a dead man. Nivelth Ajuyn barely spares a glance at the man that Bull just killed, and instead flings out a hand, the tattoos on her arms glowing. With barely a warning, a Bio spell shoots out of her hand, and eats through the man's armor like corrosive acid. Hinako Daigo's mouth goes agape, then she runs at Akhutai and puts her Masakaki between him and the Garleans. Hinako Daigo: That's enough. Not having a weapon near at hand, Eindride drifts behind the group, for the sole purpose of not getting caught in the middle. Nivelth Ajuyn is standing in the hall, her eyes trained on the man and her right arm outstretched as she flings the spell. In her other is a glowing, purple stone, held aloft at her side. The Prima Vista's engines begin to warm up again. The party has one minute left before the ship sets sail, full speed ahead, to Dalmasca. Akhutai Urit drifts his gaze downwards and over to Hinako. He exhales slow and sheaths his sword. Akhutai Urit: Yes. I suppose you are right. Akhutai Urit turns away. Akhutai Urit closes his eyes tight as the feeling of time slowing around him permeates. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn blinks, seemingly unfazed by the punch. He turns his attention to Fawn, a tinge of a teal glow can be seen emanating from the pouch on his belt. He towers over Fawn, that wild look still in his eyes.

A minute. A'zaela makes it onto the Prima Vista in under a minute. She barrels in, her eyes wide, blood spattered across her cheek. A’zaela Linh: ASHELIA! A’zaela Linh screams, oblivious to the chaos around her. But Ashe is nowhere to be found, at least not at first; she's deep in the safest part of the Prima Vista with Jenomis and his children.

Timid Fawn stares with a mixture of fear and her own anger. Timid Fawn: Bull! What in the hell's was that?! Timid Fawn fails to move an ilm as he towers over her. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn says nothing, staring into her eyes...he blinks rapidly, shaking his head. Linini Mooglesworn stands with Hinako and Akhutai, speaking to the Garleans. Linini Mooglesworn: Leave. At once. Linini Mooglesworn tells them. Linini Mooglesworn: Or you will meet the same fate your comrade has. Linini’s voice is strong, but she tries not to look at Bull and what he has done. Hinako Daigo frowns, and grips Masakaki tighter as she looks back to Bull and Fawn. The unconscious soldier that the escapee was carrying looks strangely... stiff, however. Linini Mooglesworn is also nervous about Nive, but tries not to show it. Timid Fawn's brow begins to shift into a scowl. She knows exactly what's happening...Or she’d like to believe so. Timid Fawn: Give me your stone. You won't get it back until we're back home. The soldier turns and flees, slamming the bay door definitively behind him. With that, the Prima Vista takes off. Linini Mooglesworn turns her attention to Bull, Fawn, and Nive once the soldiers are gone. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn pulls the stone from his pocket, staring into it with a rage he'd never felt before. Timid Fawn: Give. Me. The soulstone. Timid Fawn says firmly. Linini Mooglesworn: Nive, are you well? Nivelth Ajuyn's pupils slowly return to their full roundness, and she yelps and drops the stone from her hand. It glimmers faintly on the ground, before going dark. Nivelth Ajuyn looks at Linini Mooglesworn and panics! Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn begins to quake, letting out a primal scream as he throws the stone to the ground, it bounces along the floor a few times before resting a distance away from himself. Linini Mooglesworn looks at the stone as it clatters to the floor, and she almost moves to grab it, but something about it is so dark, so repulsive to her, that she winces and draws back. She then stares up at Nive with something like fear in her eyes. Nivelth Ajuyn: I ... That's impossible, I shouldn't have -- Linini Mooglesworn actually takes a step back from Nive. Ashelia Riot: Riskbreakers. Ashelia Riot says over the linkpearl. Ashelia Riot: What's everyone's status? Timid Fawn tries so very hard to remain unphased by his reaction. Slowly, she makes her way to the discarded stone and picks it up. She lets out a heavied sigh as she spends her gaze to the rock, Bull and then the corpse. Hinako Daigo is somewhat livid, but she gathers herself enough. She returns her shakujo to her back and walks over to the body - or whatever may be left of it at this point. Nivelth Ajuyn stares at the man she flung her spell at. Even from this distance she can smell the decay and rot that the spell inflicted on the body. Akhutai Urit returns over the linkpearl. Akhutai Urit: Accounted for. But I think you should come here. Hinako Daigo offers a moment of silence. Hinako Daigo winces at the smell of decay brought on by Nive's spell, but she nonetheless appears to be giving a hushed prayer to the fallen man. Linini Mooglesworn tears her eyes away from Nive. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn remains silent, a bowed head. A balled fist, a single tear falls. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: I...I messed up. Ashelia Riot arrives at a hurried walk, then stops as she sees the scene spread out before her - including the two corpses. A'zaela Linh makes her way in proper, eyes landing on the carnage. Hinako Daigo then walks over to the other man killed and does the same, a bereft sigh escaping her lips. Hinako Daigo offers a moment of silence. Ashelia Riot does not ask what happened. She takes in the stone as Timid Fawn picks it up, and Bull's reaction, and Nive's, and somehow pieces it all together. Eindride Stokys lips purse into a thin line, unsure of what there is to be said or done. Linini Mooglesworn is comforted by Ashelia's presence, surprisingly. Linini Mooglesworn: We let one soldier escape. Linini Mooglesworn relaxes her pose before Ashelia Riot. Timid Fawn lets out another weary sigh and shoves Bull's soulstone into her pocket, finally shifting her gaze to everyone else. She has nothing to say. Ashelia Riot isn't certain whether or not letting one escape is better than letting all of them, or none of them, escape. Linini Mooglesworn: We did not learn why they came here to begin with, unfortunately. There were... distractions. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn drops to his knees, unable to look up and face anyone present. Ashelia Riot: We will have to hide them before there are questions. I have no intentions of concealing this from Jenomis - but the crew do not need to see this. Ashelia Riot: And we will take into account what went wrong. Nivelth Ajuyn walks forward to the man that she killed, staring down at him. Her tail is puffed up to an almost comical degree, if the situation weren't so serious. Ashelia Riot: Fawn. Please deliver that stone to Malla. Hinako Daigo seems lost in thought. Timid Fawn: Will do. Timid Fawn gives a small nod to Ashelia. Eindride Stokys: Those stones are a menance. Eindride Stokys muttered under his breath, more pointedly than his current expression conveyed. Hinako Daigo looks to her side, not at anyone particular. Hinako Daigo: Well... now we see plain what is on the line. Ashelia Riot studies Eindride Stokys very closely, aware that she is so far not making good on her promise to bring him home safely to his brother. A'zaela Linh: I will clean up. No one else need worry about it. I suggest everyone head elsewhere until then. Akhutai Urit: Malla is keeping at least one other stone. I would ask... do we know how safe they are or would be in her keeping? Linini Mooglesworn: I... I'll help. We can stow them in the cargo hold until the next time we land, then we can bury them. Nivelth Ajuyn: ... be careful of this one. The Bio spell should be used up, but ... Timid Fawn gives her attention back to Bull, frowning deeply. Ashelia Riot: Very safe. She has not mentioned the location even to me. Linini Mooglesworn: Safe for her? Perhaps a better idea than what A'zaela was thinking -- to throw them from the ship entirely into the Ruby Sea and forget about them. It's what they deserve for -- ... What a strange thought that was. Linini Mooglesworn: Possessing two stones at once could not be good for anyone. Ashelia Riot: I agree. ...We'll consider alternative methods of storage as our next course of action. Akhutai Urit nods. Ashelia Riot: Everyone had best get some sleep. We'll be arriving in Dalmasca before long. I'll- Ashelia Riot again gets a strange, distant expression on her face. Akhutai Urit: ...We should also endeavor to keep an eye on. Akhutai Urit glances around the room. Akhutai Urit: Anyone who has...or had a stone. Timid Fawn: Sleep? After this...? Timid Fawn mutters to herself. Fawn approaches Bull with caution, trying to lay a hand on his shoulder. Timid Fawn: ...Bull. Nivelth Ajuyn looks at Tai, and nods. Nivelth Ajyun: Please. By all means, keep an eye on me. This shouldn't have happened. Linini Mooglesworn: Do you not possess one, Tai? Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn places his hand on Fawn's, looking up at her. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: I...I'm sorry. Ashelia Riot: ...Hinako. Eindride. Come with me. Akhutai Urit: I do. And I am not the only one. But I still would rather keep mine instead of putting them all in the same place. At least until we know of a safe way to deal with them. Eindride Stokys tilts his head and lets out a held-in breath, but does as he's told. Hinako Daigo: ...Grand steward. Hinako Daigo says in affirmation, after turning toward Ashelia. Timid Fawn's brow wilts with another mixture of feelings. She whispers. Timid Fawn: There's nothing you can do about it now. Come on, stand up. I'm not mad at you. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn sighs, shaking his head as he gets to his feet. Linini Mooglesworn stares at Ashe. Linini Mooglesworn: What is wrong? Ashelia Riot leads Eindride and Hina through the halls, back to the medical bay, and her heart sinks in her throat as she finds the door left ajar. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn places a hand on Fawn's shoulder. Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: Thank you… Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn can't find it in himself to look her in the eye. Ashelia Riot tears aside the chirurgeon's curtain and sees Grissom - his head separated from his macabre body, his throat slit, blood pooling across the white room. Hinako Daigo is taken aback.

[fair-fae]

Journal 3.19

Z, I bumped into a man named Akhutai Urit yesterday at the Carline Canopy. We had a nice chat over tea. Perhaps he might stop by the teahouse sometime. It may have been the liveliest I’ve ever seen the Canopy. Afterward, I spoke with Mister Castellanos. I told him about Aelius and asked him to find out if he is living, and his whereabouts if so. He is headstrong and wants to do things his own way. He thinks he can tackle anything. I worry he may do something foolish. I can’t afford to lose another brother the same way. Everything feels like a bad dream. And yet, life keeps marching on despite it. Things at the teahouse went well tonight, and I saw some familiar faces, including Miss Lightfoot and her group, and her and Mister Go’s baby--an awfully cute thing, but Gods, am I grateful I haven’t one yet. At the end of the night, Mister Dalton let me know he wishes to leave to pursue a life of adventure instead. I can’t say I blame him, though it’s unfortunate to be lacking a groundskeeper now. Still, I understand the yearning for excitement, as I know you do, too. But it can have a high price. You know that, too. I hope it won’t be a mistake.

At the teahouse, a Roegadyn man by the name of Heironymous Wrex approached me for information. He explained he’s a private investigator working a case for his own client and wishes to be put in contact with a black mage with a knowledge of Voidsent. Hopefully, Mister Vainchelon and perhaps even his wife might oblige the fellow for a meeting. I’m uncertain of his--and his client’s--intentions, as he would not divulge details, but I’ve no doubt Mister Vainchelon shall fill me in if he agrees to meet.

[varae-ver-you-are]

My WIPs so far. I have a lot to do still, but this is part of an ongoing project for my FC. This is my way of saying thank you to the people I call family. 

People listed so far: 

@onwesterlywinds @sylvan-rain @thelegendofivalice @foewreckem @the-goggles-lizard @cogflox @crimson-bull

Crimson Bull, Ala’qit Moks, Ashelia Riot, Sylvan Rain, Edge Marbrand, Akhutai Urit, A’zaela Lihn, 

[scales-claws-and-thorns]

#(count)down to dawntrail

Stormblood

[furys-mercy]

|| WELCOME ||

Welcome to Fury’s Mercy. This blog is almost entirely dedicated to my main OC, August Mercer, and his journal entries, screenshots, drabbles, and memes. Other characters may be featured on occasion. Particularly those related to Mercer. With this in mind (and the fact that I follow from this blog, and people may be more familiar with another character) I have decided to keep an updated pinned post with my current character roster as well as relevant information about tags and character nicknames used on this blog. 

|| CHARACTER ROSTER || 

- | MAIN OC |  - | RP: ACTIVE |  - | MACHINIST, ENGINEER, SUMMONER | - | CARRD |

- | ALT OC | - | RP: ACTIVE |  - | DUELIST, SOCIALITE, BASTARD | - | TUMBLR | - | CARRD |

- | ALT OC | - | RP: ACTIVE |  - | FALLEN LADY, SOCIALITE, VINDICTIVE  |

- | ALT OC | - | RP: ON REQUEST |  - | TRAVELLER, HEDGE WITCH, VOIDTOUCHED | - | TUMBLR | 

- | ALT OC | - | RP: ON HIATUS |  - | TRAVELLER, VENGEFUL, VOIDSENT |

|| SHIP TAGS ||

#guard my heart - Mercer & his husband X’khal’a Moui

#the crow and dragon - Mercer & his husband Akhutai Urit

#a light in the dark - Mercer & his lover interest Fehre’a Khaari

|| STORY TAGS ||

#duplicitous deeds - A completed storyline surrounding a rivalry between Mercer and another goldsmith. Involved Akhutai Urit.

#into the unknown - An ongoing storyline involving both Mercer and his recently discovered half-brother, Sebastian de Vairemont.

|| NICKNAMES ||

Mercer tends to give nicknames to people that he really cares about. These nicknames may appear in his journal entries, drabbles, or ask responses. So folks know who is who, I have included a list below.

Kid - X’khal’a Moui 

Firestorm - Akhutai Urit

Boss - Sasari Sari

Lordling - Sebastian de Vairemont

Starlight - Lazne Urit

[wispofwillow]

FFXIVWrite - Prompt 3: Temper

Prompt 3: Temper

((Almost went with a witnessed Garuda tempering for this one, but here we are. Rarely would show a loss of temper))

((Still messing around with a lot of tentative ideas and magic sense here))

Temper:

(noun): “a particular state of mind or feelings”

(verb): “improve the hardness and elasticity of (steel or other metal) by reheating and then cooling it” - “to be or become tempered”

(verb): “to moderate or mitigate; to soften or tone down”

(Definitions pulled from Dictionary.com)

Character: Wisp Alsentia

Brief mentions in memory of: Stari King, Lif Silverlode, Mara Kha, August Mercer, X’Khal’a Moui, Allyn Grav'nost (Gravy), Akhutai Urit, Kurenai Nagimae, Ushumgallu Allagbane

Music: A choice!

Vaults - Bodies: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgB6Ffd3Q_s

Kate Bush - Running up that Hill: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l_b_X6n__pY

Active Child - Color Me: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUz9TUXXqRU

Focus

In the half-dark of the late afternoon, Wisp sat cross-legged on the rag rug spread in the far corner of their room, almost out of reach of the creeping slant of light through their uncurtained windows. They sat straight, but with their shoulders set back against the leg of the bunk bed behind them, the wood a solid presence against their back, neatly made-up sheets cool against their neck. Sheets still smooth and unmussed for more than just that day.

Between their hands, cupped loosely in their lap, they held a small focus, its colorless crystalline surface gathering and reflecting light against their downturned face, catching along the silvery scars that marked channels like tear tracks beneath their eyes. Their habitual mask sat discarded, for now, on the low desk across from them. It had tipped downward, leaning on the beak of it, so that the shadowed, carved eyes appeared to watch them. Beside it lay their actual rapier and focus. For this, they had obtained a smaller, weaker focus. The rapier felt as though it should be reserved - kept safe, somehow, in a way they could not fully articulate. So, for this practice, a practice focus. It should suffice, in any case, for what they were trying to accomplish.

For this small, simple task. 

The simplest, the smallest, the easiest task they had learned even before their first formal lesson of conjury.

The task they were, as yet, failing.

To channel and direct one’s aether. And only one’s own aether.

Frowning, Wisp resettled themselves against the bed, shifting their legs on the rug below to ease out a cramp. They took in a long breath, a slow breath, held it, and, just as slowly, released it, letting their shoulders fall, keeping their cupped hands deliberately loose around the empty focus. The unwelcome tension of growing frustration would not help them now.

Once again, they reached, calling up the memory of Khala’s description of the feel of channeling his own aether - the catch, the pull of it, the warmth flowing from toes upward. Immediately the familiar sense of it wrapped their senses, a feel of moss pressing softly against the skin, a brush of pine and petrichor and damp earth. Taking in another slow breath as their frown eased, Wisp let the aether flow up and out, into their hands, their fingertips, and, carefully, into the focus, which woke to a soft gold-green glow. It was weak, befitting of the caution they’d taken and what should have been their low reserves following their recent healing and training exertions, and the sleeplessness following the concert of the night before. But that was how they had intended it to be.

There. Just…

Before they could finish the thought, before the satisfaction and relief could settle, the aether twisted. Tangled. Again. Again.

It did not stop, but rather, flared. 

Chained behind their faint cast came not another spell, but a rush of force. The smell of pine grew, whispers of needles on branches behind it, and above it, beneath it, through it flashed the hair-raising static sense presaging a lightning strike. Tiny bolts of static flicked from their fingers to the crystal focus, growing by the second.

No.

Wisp snapped their fingers away from the focus, slamming their mind down against this rush of levin-aspected aether. No. The sparks died, but the tightness to the air did not as the focus rolled from their lap to the floor with a neglected thunk. They leapt to their feet, flexing their fingers as the fur along their tail, their ears, their arms stood straight up.

It had not been their intention to channel any aspect to their aether at all. And there, at the last, it had not been their aether.

Their tail lashed once, twice.

“Are you…tied to something?” Stari’s words echoed up through memory, so quick on the heels of the initial reassurance they’d sought. And with those words, Khala’s voice, as well, speaking of how it was not natural to be so linked to external aether, so unable to shut it out. 

For that’s what this was, somehow, though they’d not called it: aether external to them. And they ought to know the difference, relying ever first on their own aether unless a healing spell absolutely called for ought else. And calling only on the aspect needed to shape a spell of another kind to do harm.

Lif’s voice came to memory now, too, telling them how interesting Mara had found their aether. And with her voice came the wide-eyed, strained fear that had flashed through her as Wisp had started to speak of what had happened. Of what little they knew.

Wisp paced, now, a tight circle in the corner of their room, ears pinned back, still flexing their fingers. Open, closed, open, closed, curled into claws.

This could not continue. They knew it. Like as not, everyone did. Everyone who’d seen, at least.

Their mind offered them up the image of that voidsent, weeks back, Mercer alongside them. When the visions that had latched onto their mind had distracted them enough to give an opening to the creature. Luck, only, that the attack had been on them and not Mercer. But, what of the next time they became so distracted? 

And again, another memory, another creature of the void draining at their own aether, pulling their attention away from healing spells their party needed, distracting the other healers, too.

The lapses of attention were worse, even, than the lapses of time. It had happened again, that night, they knew. The magic of the Shroud that had been worked by the performers at the concert had pulled at their mind, their senses, their aether, in a way that they could not explain, like the echoes of a song stuck in one’s head long after the notes had faded. Even as they had accompanied Ushumgallu and Sari back to the Aetherflow offices, spoken with Gravy, watched Kurenai carried safely to sleep, a part of their mind had not been there. They’d sat down, just for a moment, back in the dark of their own rooms, to rest before changing from their sweat-salt-stiff robes. 

And then, they had woken. If “wake” was the right word to use when there had been no sleep, just hours, gone. And a drifting. Just like with Josie’s funeral.

A hot wash of guilt and loss and shame poured through them, and they put their hands to their face, fingers pressing hard into the corners of their eyes where tears were starting, smearing them before they could follow the silver traces left before by a wholly different kind of tear. Forcibly they pulled their hands away again, away from the scars, fingers curling back into claws.

This training in Red Magic, begun from sheer interest, was something they needed, now. To temper this overreliance on external aether - to balance out whatever it was that had changed in them, with the transformation the sineaters had wrought. And what had been done, after, to undo that transformation. But, a blade of metal that was weak to start with could not well be tempered.

Pausing in their pacing, Wisp relaxed their hands, rubbing their palms briefly together to smooth away the pricked dents in their skin where their clawed nails had left a mark.

Again. Just try again. Khala had told them what it would feel like. And they’d felt it, briefly. They’d kept out the other aether before, had they not? Before the First, an insidious whisper in their mind reminded them. Before the sineaters. Before the rasping scrape of taint along their aether, along their bones as they stretched, warped, twisted. Claws against stone. Fangs drawing down and down. Light overflowing, oozing…

Breathe.

Breathe. In, out. 

The air rattled shakily from them in a whoosh, and Wisp crouched, laying hands flat on the rough surface of the rug to steady themselves again. Hands that were not the sickly white of a sineater. Hands with furred skin along the backs, black-tipped claws kept neatly trimmed back. Their own hands. Just theirs.

These memories would not aid them now. As they had not aided them when they had reacted so strongly upon meeting Teo and learning of others’ travels to the First. Nor did they explain what this tie in their aether was. No, not tie in their aether - tie to their aether.

Which should not prevent them from calling just upon their own aether. It should not.

Clenching their jaw, Wisp reached out for the focus, groping for where it had rolled halfway beneath the bunkbed as they’d jumped to their feet.

How can I be of use - how can I be trusted in danger - if I cannot even master myself? 

The borrowed time they had now, they had never requested, but all the same it would have a purpose to it. It must. More images flashed to mind, now: Arc, his wide smile up into the sun as the wind caught at his hair - trapped now, in their place, on the First; the hollow silence of the village to which they’d been returned when the moss had released them, in their own shape again - a trail they had joined Aetherflow, albeit unintentionally and unvoiced even to Akhutai’s direct question, to pursue; Josie’s face, slack, empty of all light and life.

Focus. 

Breathe. In, out.

Letting their eyes drift shut, Wisp called again upon their aether, letting the feel of it wash up through them. Moss, again, the faint brush of pine, a faint scent and sense of lightning at the roof of their mouth, not so strong as Mercer’s. And then, suddenly, it was. The wash of electricity slammed into their senses, overwhelming the soft sense of their own magic. They leashed it quickly, grasping physically and mentally with both hands.

No. Again. No. 

Mouth pulled back in a silent snarl, fangs bared, Wisp grappled with the flow of the aether seeping into theirs. Shut it down. But as soon as they reached for their own aether again, the rush of the storm came with it.

They failed again. And again. And again.

Wisp breathed in. And breathed out. And instead of abating, the frustration grew, heat prickling up their palms and upward until their whole face, their ears, their skin felt hot. With it, so too came the sparking sense of pressure building. Their fur stood on end, tail lashing once, twice.

And with a last, final growl, they let go their hold that could not keep the aether back.

With a rumbling boom of thunder that shook the room, an arc of lightning leapt from their hands into the focus, bouncing through it and, with no rapier to guide the overflow, outward, a spray of smaller sparks branching out and over their fur and clothing as it went. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the lightning was gone, the pressure seeped from the room, leaving Wisp lightheaded, the flood of aether from elsewhere slowed to a trickle. But still not gone.

Heavily, they sat on the bed, legs shaking, temper and aether spent. Between their hands, the small focus, never designed to take aspected aether in such a single blow, lay cracked and blackened. Also spent. 

Failed just as they had. Again. 

___

Somewhere in the distance, in a forest huddled along the ridges and feet of a low mountain range, where tall pines flanked the slopes that folded gently down toward a green-blanketed valley below, rain slowed, then stopped. The thunderstorm that had gathered itself earlier in the day, raining torrents down upon the trees as it fetched up against the mountains gradually, dissipated, clouds rolling on and away, shrinking as they went, temper, if one could call it that, spent.

[scales-claws-and-thorns]

[scales-claws-and-thorns]

#(count)down to dawntrail

Heavensward