#including Hyth

[ectojyunk]

What's wrong Emet? Not used to the Exarch being forward after him being shy about boinking an Ascian for 50 years?

[asleepinawell]

if there was work email in the ancient world hyth would be the guy who sent out fuck you emails to co-workers carefully disguised with tepid business language like 'as per my last email' 'your input is appreciated' and 'Thanks.'

meanwhile emet-selch is sending emails like 'to the most esteemed lahabrea of the convocation of fourteen, go fuck yourself' followed by the most unnecessarily elaborate email signature ever

azem just sends memes

[shivasdarknight]

if you were to look at ao3's wol/npc fics alone you'd never guess that Ysayle was a major character of hvw while you'd assume that he were that instead character.

im fucking tired

[noxtivagus]

no thoughts only fiction fr i want to write 🫣

[hemorrhoidbabe69]

elpis trio (Venat Hermes Hyth) making me unwell yet again today

[sealrock]

so I said a long time ago that I wouldn't revisit the unsundered world and all that because I hit a narrative brick wall with paris' ancient, but that all changed when I made andromache a co-wol, and thus decided that she would be the original azem

enter apollo and dionysus, two sisters who would eventually become andromache and paris in the current timeline and with their own goody bags of lore under the cut:

apollo–

older sister of dionysus, who would become the new azem when her mentor venat retired

she and her sister were orphaned at a young age, and it was during venat's travels that she discovered the little foundlings. against the better judgment of her peers, venat elected to take the children back with her to amaurot to be raised as her proteges

apollo was exceedingly bright as a child, both emotionally and intellectually. she was a prodigy in creation magicks and an excellent fighter

got to knew hades and hyth at an academy for young amaurotines to hone their magicks, but she didn't consider them close friends of hers

once she grew older, she came to meet hyacinthos, hector's unsundered self. apollo fell hard and fast for him, but hyacinthos took a while to realize she had feelings for him

apollo wasn't a stranger to anyone, but she had a one-sided rivalry with hyacinthos' childhood friend thamyris. thamyris also had romantic feelings for hyacinthos, but they were never reciprocated

her relationship with her sister dionysus began to strain once they both became of age. while apollo still cared for her, she never understood why dionysus grew to have such disdain for her

while they were both prime candidates, venat ultimately chose apollo as her successor

azem tended to follow the rules, but she would march to the beat of her own drum, which landed her in hot water most of the time with the older members of the convocation

she and hyacinthos wished to spend the rest of their lives together, but it came to a bloody end when hyacinthos was murdered in a jealous rage by thamyris, who by then became the next halmarut

distraught and overcome with grief, apollo desparately wanted to bring hyacinthos back. but the underworld was a dangerous place for any living being, on top of the laws of amaurot forbidding anyone from bringing back the dead, whether they chose to die or not. hades, the new emet-selch, refused to help her as it would disrupt the natural order of the world

just before the final days tore apart their home, apollo defected from the convocation and went rogue. she ventured into the underworld herself to bring back her beloved, only to be overwhelmed by the current and become unraveled into the aether

before she died, apollo recorded her memories into her soul crystal so that whoever would find it would find a way to save them both. her soul crystal, the original azem crystal, was then lost in the aetherial sea after the world was sundered. it would eventually find its way into the hands of her many reincarnations, including andromache's ancestor, the zodiac brave known as penthesilea

apollo's soul crystal would only resonate with her reincarnation, otherwise it became a family heirloom of the tatlonghari's for the next few centuries until andromache became its owner

now imbued with the memories of her ancient self, andromache gained an obsessive desire to reunite with hector, thus fulfilling apollo's wish to never part from him again

dionysus–

younger sister of apollo, was passed over in favor of apollo to earn the seat of azem

while just as talented as apollo, dionysus could never outdo her sister. for that she was always considered second best

she would try to perform better than apollo in many things, but it was never good enough to dionysus. this would make her relationship with her mentor strained

dionysus was apollo's shadow, and she wasn't keen on making friends as a child

dionysus was the opposite of her sister in terms of personality: where apollo was cordial and lively, dionysus was broody and standoffish

when venat chose apollo to be the new azem, dionysus begged her mentor to reconsider. from then on, dionysus considered apollo her most bitter rival

despite her hatred, apollo looked after dionysus since they were young, and dionysus relied on her older sister. but once she became romantically involved with hyacinthos, dionysus grew jealous of the man for taking away her sister

rejected and dejected, dionysus joined the words of lahabrea to become a keyward of pandemonium. she never took a subtle approach to fighting like her sister, and her level of ferocity made her a prime candidate for being a keyward

during that time, dionysus fell out of contact with her sister and was unaware of her plans to rescue her beloved from the underworld

when the final days came down, dionysus was thrust into her sister's shoes to be the new temporary azem. apollo never returned from her descent into the underworld, and the convocation branded her a traitor

emet-selch, secretly mourning the loss of apollo and guilty over not helping her, created an artificial azem crystal for dionysus to use. it recorded her ascension ceremony, and dionysus imbued her own magicks into the crystal (aka her summoning spell), but it wasn't used for very long. dionysus created her own spell in the vain hope of bringing her sister back, but apollo was dissolved by then

now becoming something she always wanted to be, but ultimately wasn't ready for, dionysus struggled to take on the responsibilities her sister once had. on the opposing side of her mentor, dionysus couldn't perform her duties and ran away from the horrors of the final days

after the world got sundered, dionysus would reincarnate into paris and would become andromache's first child. the two of them repeated the same mistakes as they did when they were whole. paris didn't realize it then, but they inherited dionysus' resentment and inferiority complex when it comes to their mother andromache

[soulseerzine]

Upcoming SoulSeerWeek!

To commemorate the fanzine's preorders opening and in honor of all things Hythlodaeus, we will hold a #SoulseerWeek beginning on February 5th! Please check the prompts below and post each day with the tag for the community to see!

Here is the text version of the #SoulseerWeek prompts:

Studies

Adventure

Modern Jobs

A taste of Etheirys

Old New Friends

Enjoying the Moment

New Creations

Event Guidelines:

You may use the prompt list to create any type of material, not only limited to the ones mentioned in the main post! Hythlodaeus welcomes all kinds of creations, even if they include sharks!

As the name implies, this is a week dedicated to Hythlodaeus as the main focus, and we'd like to keep it as that. However if you want to include other characters, as long as they don't take away from Hyth's protagonism, you're free to!

If you're not able to do all the event works within a week, that's fine! This is a fun time and we will be pleased to see what you come up for a few weeks!

Although we support love, we'd like to keep this event free of NSFW. Some implied things are fine, but please refrain from posting explicit works on the event hashtag.

Hythlodaeus will love to see the community we created around him! So please keep your posts polite!

[impossible-rat-babies]

writing so much I am cringe therefore I am free lore for eyrie like:

they are not truly a shard of azem (aka charon), but a shard of hermes. charon has always been a master over fate/destiny/the movement of time through the heavens. perceiving what could become the future was an well kept secret and unpredictable talent of hers. as such, she had a vision of the final days, and the future it would bring about—the death of her world and the life that would spring from its remains. it all exists in a circle, and she knew her role to play in that circle, as well as all the life that would come—eyrie included. so she gave unto venat a travelers ward of her own—a gift for someone in the distant future. she would know who to give it to, when they would appear.

so eyrie is a long distant shard of Hermes—one that had been…dormant in a sense. stuck in the aetherial sea. a floating fragment, carried by the tides. Hydaelyn would pluck that shard from the sea and carry it for a time before giving unto them the blessing from Charon and sending them along. It’s a blessing of sorts—a ward not unlike Venat’s own that prevents the corruption of ones own aether, but it marks the soul. A modification based on markings given to the souls that passed through the underworld in the time of the ancients. to people such as emet, eyrie appears as a fragment of Charon—the color and essence of her soul woven over top of its true colors. the hyth on the moon + in ultima thule (and emet too i supposed) could see the shroud for what it was, having been dead aka passing into some state of soul detaching from flesh. (other beings cannot see the shroud as one needs a discerning eye for the colors of souls).

Ardbert and Melpomene are fragments of Charon in whole and truth, but eyrie is still one too, after a fashion. the ward cannot be divested of their soul—it was built to weave into the ethereal parts of the soul, and by that bonding they are some small part of her. Ardbert and Melpomene are simply “true” fragments of Charon—the direct pieces of her soul that have become these new people. Ardbert and eyrie merged because of Charon’s ward, thus eyrie is a sort of…blended fragment of Hermes and Charon.

I don’t think eyrie is fully aware of the technicalities, save for unexplained and strange interactions in Elpis. ie meteion’s unexplainable fondness for them, a few scattered interactions with Hermes, a distinct out of place feeling in elpis beyond being a stranger out of time + a deep lingering and gaping pit of sadness

[starrysnowdrop]

Urania: Unsundered Hali

This is the completely revamped version of Unsundered Hali! I might expand on these details at a later date, but for now here is some initial headcanons!

Hali’s Unsundered self is named Urania, whose name means “Heavenly One” in Greek.

In Greek Mythology, Urania was one of the Nine Muses and she was known as the Muse of Astronomy and astronomical writings; she was commonly depicted pointing at a celestial globe with a rod.

Urania is very much like her sundered counterpart, in that their personalities are nearly identical, she looks just like Hali except she’s not a lalafell, and she’s an expert in several fields of magic, including the equivalent of Astromancy and Geomancy.

She is the younger sister of Hythlodaeus, and she and Hyth grew up with Hades. The three were inseparable and the best of friends until the Final Days, when Urania refused to go along with the Convocation’s plans to summon Zodiark.

She started out as a student and researcher in Akadaemia Anyder, where she first met Hermes. They grew close and eventually became lovers. They both had fallen in love with the other, but their relationship soon ended when Urania became a member of the Words of Azem and began to travel the world, and Hermes left Amaurot to become a researcher in Elpis.

Hermes was the one to end the relationship, believing that Urania was destined to go on and accomplish great things, and he didn’t want to hold her back. He also felt great insecurities and didn’t think that he was worthy to be Urania’s lover or eventual husband. Urania was devastated and heartbroken, and she never fully recovered from the breakup, still holding feelings for Hermes for the rest of her life.

Urania eventually took over the Seat of Azem from Venat, and Hermes took over the position of Chief Overseer of Elpis. Their duties kept them apart and they only saw each other on the rarest of occasions. They would be together as lovers for these brief visits, only to return to their duties shortly after, despite Urania always trying to mend their broken relationship and officially be together again. Yet, Hermes refused every time.

In their time apart, Hermes fell deep into depression and he became disillusioned with how the Ancients’ society would so easily disregard and abandon creations deemed to be “flawed”. Once, when she was able to visit Hermes, Urania asked him to leave Elpis and come with her, but he refused, as he felt guilty for abandoning his work and the creatures in Elpis.

When Hermes took over the Seat of Fandaniel, though Urania still spent most of her time traveling the world, she still had to return to Amaurot for her duties as Azem, so she and Hermes continued their love affair during this time, but it was not meant to last.

Unbeknownst to her at the time, Urania did begin to have feelings for a man named Boreas who she had met on her travels. He lead a city on the far side of the world from Amaurot, but she never realized that she had indeed fallen in love with him until it was too late, as he died from the blasphemies during the Final Days. Yes, Boreas is Unsundered Aymeric.

Urania found Boreas near death. She tried to heal him, but she couldn’t and he ended up dying in her arms. She was inconsolable, and regretted never having told him how she felt about him.

Urania was devastated when Hyth volunteered to be a part of the sacrifice to summon Zodiark, and she was inconsolable and enraged at not only Emet-Selch, her best friend, but Fandaniel, her lover, as they both went along with the plan to sacrifice her brother. She gave up her seat as Azem and left Amaurot behind.

Right before the Sundering, Urania questioned if she was truly happy with constantly putting her duty before her own personal wants and desires, and wondered if things would’ve been different if she hadn’t been so singular minded about her duty as Azem. She hoped that she would meet Boreas again in their next lives and she prayed that they could actually be together and find the happiness that they couldn’t have in this life.

That’s all I have so far! Thank you all for reading!! 🥰💖

Updated: 04/22/2023

[asleepinawell]

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@sntoot and I unlocked the secrets of making mammets independent which lets them react to some emotes and let lil hyth and hades indulge in a lot of gay staring at each other

[yuri-cocaine]

i finished msq

-whadda hell bulnosaur....................,,,,,i thot this was our summer vacation

-living memory made me cry so damn much that music is sad as hell. i can't believe the legendary city of gold was an artificial afterlife that we had to pull the plug on. and then afterwards it's just this ugly gray city with the distorted sad music playing through mall speakers. being there after the msq is extremely uncomfortable.

-im wondering if sphene was deliberately programmed to be hostile and unreceptive to any solution that isn't "sustain the dead by killing and sucking up living aether." because it is possible to actually bring back the dead and sustain them without being a parasitic blight! all the beings in ultima thule are alive because they were brought back by dynamis, and azem's magic resurrected all the scions and briefly emet and hyth. obviously preservation doesnt know about dynamis and they can't use azem's magic, but that doesnt matter because we could have presented these solutions to sphene. but no, sphene straight up refuses to consider any other solution to sustaining living memory that isn't kill everyone on other worlds.

-there's also sphene's tiara being shown ominously after the credits roll. im willing to bet that the new arc villain really was using sphene as a pawn to destroy worlds for some unknown reason.

-re: azem's magic: azem is insanely powerful jesus christ. they're able to call people to their side no matter where they are, even resurrecting the dead in their summoning. and now azem apparently has a key that can open portals to other worlds, even tho azem lived prior to the sundering. why this key went to a bunch of lalas living in aloalo island is a big mystery, and im surprised aloalo was even brought up again. i did all the routes to get the statice mount so i fought the statue of the speaker, but i assumed the aloalo lalafells just sailed away on a boat to la noscea. the fact that they had an artifact azem created to hop to another world is insane.

-cahciua reminds me of venat, so i just feel horribly sad for erenville when he had to say goodbye to her. poor erenville ;-; he lost his home and his mother both. don't worry erenville you can jump right into yuma's loving arms and rest your weary head in her bosom i mean what

-everkeep is a massive eyesore, and im not a fan of solution nine sorry. i don't like glowy rgb cyberpunk aesthetics and purple is my least favorite color, and solution nine is both of that at once lol. radz at han is a way better endgame hub.

-im kinda confused about how interdimensional fusion is working. everkeep still has the endless lightning storms, but the unlost world that living memory is in seems to have a clear sky after we shut down the golden light. is that a real sky, and if so, why isn't it in a perpetual lightning storm too? and if living memory didn't get transported to the source along with the rest of everkeep and only has the gate to it connecting it to the source, then how hasn't it fallen apart the moment everkeep transported??? isn't it the twelfth floor of a giant tower.

-im going to guess that the unlost world is the ninth because of all the ff9 refs. even though the twelfth was already rejoined with a calamity of lightning, there's only six elements (not including light and darkness) and 13 reflections. the ascians are going to have to reuse elements for rejoining eventually, so if things went their way we would have had a second calamity of lightning rejoining the unlost world. electrope not being in the source (or maybe it is and we havent found any yet) sounds like ascian shenanigans too. tip the world strongly towards the element of lighting, then introduce a suspiciously convenient ore that can make use of all the excess lightning, and manipulate nations into destroying each other for it. lindblum's lightning superweapon would be the perfect tool for a rejoining.

-i wonder if there are any reflections that are still relatively okay, but i also wouldnt be surprised if every reflection was left in a horrible state to prime it for rejoining. due to the time discrepancies between shards, i think it'd be cool to find a reflection that didnt even develop civilization yet lol

-anyways. i thought nothing would top amaurot for being the saddest place, but living memory is just fucking me up so bad. deleting the endless was bad enough, but to leave it in that ugly shut down state with distorted music playing is horrible. we killed the golden city and are left with its corpse. also, something scary to think about it that if everkeep is the last intact place from the unlost world and it's been transported to the source, that means the unlost world is completely barren and the final remnant of its last standing civilization is an empty necropolis. goddamn if it was another star and meteion found it, she'd be adding it to her list of reasons to despair for sure.

[karoiseka]

3) Free Day 1

((I decided that I'm going to use at least a few of these free days to finish the prompts that I hadn't gotten around to finishing/posting! So, here's one that had me gasping at the various ideas that sprung up, including this one. [seriously, I had like 4 different ideas for this one]. Have some Kar'a and Hades Forgiveness thanks to @yzeltia ))

Ikarus gasped as she pulled herself up onto the rock, the howls of her hunters close.  Too close.  This wasn’t how the trip was supposed to go, and she almost regretted not prepping more before leaving the city.  She hadn’t been sitting in the seat of Azem very long, but had instantly chosen chaos–immediately leaving after her appointment for the wide open road.  The stack of paperwork sitting on the desk as she left and sent a shiver down her spine–Venat had not cleaned up before stepping down.

There had been one other reason for leaving so quickly.  Emet-Selch.  Hades.  Whatever she was supposed to call him now that she was his equal on the council.  It had been years since they had actually spoken, Hythlodaeus and Venat being their only connection.  At this point she couldn’t even remember what the argument was over, just that it had shattered the life-long relationship that they had–only that it was something to do with a council decision that she didn’t agree with and that he had put forward as an idea.

The rumor from Hyth that he had backed Venat’s decision to promote her to the Seat of Azem had startled her into remembering that Hades always did try to think logically and without emotion–especially when it came to work related items.  She supposed with how much she had worked as a Word of Azem under Venat that it shouldn’t be a surprise that she was a candidate for the position, but it was startling to hear from him nonetheless.

Which brought her back to her current predicament.  Her leg was cut fairly badly, and she needed time to let the healing magic kick in.  Shields could only do so much as she sat heavily, watching the pack circle, as best she could.  Weaving in and out of the tall grass, their natural camouflage concealed their true numbers when she tried to count them.  There was nothing else for it then.  She needed help.

There was only one that was usually willing to teleport to her side, one that had the magic to whisk himself home afterwards.  Loathe as she was to call upon him, there wasn’t much choice left, and she let the magic fly.  It had always been a part of her, the ability to call and summon those that she needed most to her side.  The tendril of magic hung in the air as she was unsure if the call would be answered–the circle glowing at her side.

The runes burst into blinding light as the magic activated, a moment later grey robes brushed her leg.  His topaz eyes took in the scene, before resting on her wounds for a moment, adjusting his grip on the greatsword he had already drawn.

Hades had answered her call.  Sighing in relief, the shields drew in as Ikarus–Azem–pulled in her aether to work on the wounds, before accepting the outstretched hand tugging her to her feet.

“You came.”

“Of course.”  and that was that.  Time shifted once more, and despite everything, they moved as one, as they had so many times before, and most likely would again.  Her weapons spun around them, weaving their deadly protective dance, as she threw her head back and laughed.  All was right on the star once more, forgiveness granted, and goals aligned once more–at least for now.

[fheythfully]

past the edge of my beliefs (FFXIV)

Wordcount: 3,855 Summary: She looks up at Hyth and braces herself for the question she's wanted to ask and has been too scared to for months. “Whose bones is this city built on?” Brilliant, shining Amaurot, City of Miracles--floating high on its throne in the clouds, looking down on all lesser existence below. She has never left its massive gates; has never met anyone who has. What's down there, other than what she reads about in history books? Oceans, cities, town squares--who else occupies this world besides them? Kind, patient Hythlodaeus carefully removes his spoon and settles it against the rim of his cup. His gentle smile is full of dark things she cannot name.

[an AU where the Ascians win.]

Originally written in 2020/2021. Click the read more or visit AO3 (login required).

The woman in her bedroom mirror has a tail.

A rather spectacular oddity, as Astra herself does not have one. Last she checked she owned all the standard sets of limbs for a human, ten toes and fingers included. A tail had not been part of the package when she'd retired for bed the night prior, or even at the unholy mid-night hour she'd gotten up to shut her window against the blare of car sirens. But there in the mirror, before she'd even had her morning coffee, swayed a tail delicately behind her as if it was nothing but an innocent dandelion attached to her posterior.

For the sixth time, she peers behind her.

The mirror tail did not exist.

Yet in the mirror it twitches, pale hair silvery in the early morning light.

Astra sighs and continues with her morning routine.

She watches it sway nonchalantly behind her as she walks the length of her apartment, reflected in the many mirrors lining her walls (house of mirrors, her friends jokingly call her seventh floor condo). It lingers through the fabric of her pantsuit as if it is the most natural thing to exist, moving about her as she goes through her morning. In the kitchen she settles on one of her well worn leather stools and takes a deep pull of coffee, angling the pot to watch the tail dance around her legs in the reflective surface.

Really, she shouldn't be as surprised as she is. Strange things happen in Amaurot, the City of Miracles. She had just not pegged one of them happening to her. Out of all the possibilities--mirages of alien cities in the city Center; phantom creatures walking amongst everyday citizens; fantastical monsters towering into the sky before flickering out of existence--she had to get a tail? She lived over the nexus of the planet's leylines, attracting all sorts of other existences, and all she personally got was a tail? 

Grimacing, she pulls a dark strand of her hair out of where it had caught on the rim of her mug.

Well, at least it wasn't physically there for others to gawk at.

.

.

Nothing nearly as exciting occurs for the rest of her day. Despite passing by plenty of reflective surfaces, no one makes a remark on the appendage trailing behind her like some strange flag. Paranoia makes her wonder if everyone sees it and is just too polite to say anything, or perhaps so used to the ongoings of the city that seeing a ghost tail barely makes it on to their radar and she is the only one finding it strange.

She mulls these thoughts over her third coffee of the day on her lunch break. A cooling breeze brings with it the scent of brine (the one below the city is too far to carry; some other world’s ocean makes itself known) and she unwinds her hair and tips her head to the back of the bench to enjoy the late spring sunshine. Peacefully, she closes her eyes.

“Ah, you must be the owner of this illustrious gallery. I've been keen to meet with you.”

She opens her eyes. A man of middle age and non descriptive features stands before her, hands behind his back. A smile pulls at his lips as he watches her gather her wits.

She's always been quick on the draw. “A pleasure.” Standing, she offers her hand for a shake. The stranger’s grip is strong as he takes her hand in his and, unexpectedly, brings her knuckles to his lips.

She should pull away but doesn't. The motion is neither charming nor creepy; his mouth brushes over her skin and it somehow just is. An old greeting seen only in films between strangers and secret lovers, and he most certainly would not fall into the latter category.

His smile deepens, not unkindly. “The pleasure is all mine. You must indeed be Astraea, then?”

She nods. The skin where his lips touched tingles strangely. Her other hand is still gripping her coffee, and she waves it vaguely in the direction of the gallery behind her. Her pride and joy: owner at the tender age of 27, beautifully curated and lauded in the pages of the city’s papers. She could have done worse for her career. “Yes. Are you interested in displaying?”

The man shakes his head. His long, braided lavender hair is reminiscent of the tail she knows sways behind her and she wonders if he too can see it in the paneling bouncing off sunlight of the gallery. “No, I'm not an artist myself, although I am a great admirer. I'm more of an archivist, you could say.” He cuts himself off and laughs. “Well, I am an archivist. For the government archives. I am currently gathering the history of Amaurot’s public entertainment venues. Would you be interested in an interview?”

And so begins her professional friendship with the man named Hythlodaeus.

.

.

A week later they sit together in her office, her sipping a coffee (of course) and him enjoying a cup of white tea. The recorder at his side has been paused as they break for a light lunch. Hythlodaeus stirs in two cubes of sugar with an unhurried hand, the other cradling his chin as he stares into the far distance behind the room’s large windows.

“You bear her name,” he says suddenly. His words break the polite silence between them and she pulls away from the email she had just been finishing.

 “Excuse me?”

“You bear her name,” he repeats as if she hadn't heard him the first time. “But you are overwhelmingly much like the Other. She would have razed this city to the ground, had she known what bones it was built on.”

Astra fixes him with an unimpressed stare. It does nothing to help quell the sense of unease that rises, inexplicably, in the pit of her stomach. “I don't know which “Astraea” you speak of, but there is only me in this city.” She knows. She'd checked on a strange whim some time back. A city of thousands and only her alone. “Your friend sounds rather violent.”

Her guest’s eyes turn towards her. The smile he seems to constantly wear on his face widens, teasing. Foreboding? Her mind supplies. Astra pushes it away.

“Are you so sure?” He asks. One pale eyebrow had risen to express his doubt at her assertion. “That you are not only a woman named such, but also the only one? All the ghosts wandering our city streets, carried from unknown shores… the world outside is so very big, and we are so very small.” He brings the tea to his lips and sips. Astra remains silent, unnerved by the turn of conversation. It was a truth universally acknowledged that Amaurot sat at the Center for something greater in creation--but it was another entirely to discuss it.

The Convocation’s laws strictly ensured that no idealistic dreamer, philosopher or curious child wandered too far down that particular rabbit hole. Punishment in Amaurot was far and between, but a visit from the Thirteen’s office was never a pleasant one nevertheless.

“Is this part of the interview?” She asks after a time.

Hythlodaeus, as if caught daydreaming, blinks. “No, just the wonderings of the city’s archivist. Forgive me for the strange turn in conversation.”

Cautiously, she nods. The interview goes on. After he leaves and she is cleaning up where he'd sat, she spots some loose sheafs of paper fallen out of his briefcase.

One of them reads, in an elegant hand:

If you listen closely, do you hear her scream?

.

.

Surprisingly, the man’s oddities for rambling is not a hurdle she cannot clear and they soon transition from the professional environment to what she has tentatively begun to call friendship. There is something appealing about Hythlodaeus, from his pleasant demeanour to unexpectedly quick wit and humour. Spring’s passed and the heat of summer’s set in and she has managed to all but forget that strange afternoon in her office, sitting outside an ice cream parlour with Hythlodaeus across from her. 

She's chosen a raspberry concoction that melts in her mouth while Hyth’s poking at a coffee and vanilla dish before him. Flowers in bloom line the streets, bees dancing in and out of blossoms. Amaurot is beautiful in its lazy, buttery sunshine; a mother and child laugh across the street. A couple giggles closely together as they pass by. An elegant, towering woman with leporine ears wanders past close enough to touch and the street flickering through where her body should be.

Hyth is humming some song off key beneath his breath. Astra strains her ears to hear him.

“Honeybee, I  can't imagine how my life would be, if all your gravity did not hit me…”

The child across the street, in a fit of emotions specific to children, has begun crying. Out of the corner of her eyes Astra sees the mother lean down to comfort the hurt--a finger held out.

A bee sting. The child had stuck its hands somewhere they did not belong.

“Oh, don't you see, darling, my honeybee…” 

Her mouth tastes like honey and lavender. She takes another bite of raspberry ice cream and watches the tail behind her dance in the windows of passing cars.

.

.

She hums the words to herself before bed, brushing her hair and readying her bed. They follow her into sleep where she dreams of a quaint two bedroom home by the sea and a garden bursting with lavender. A mother with a tail like hers and cat’s ears where human ones should be sings the song to her daughter, picking vegetables and dropping them in the basket the girl dutifully carries.

Look around, we made a garden of the love we found…

The girl joins in, reedy voice carrying in the wind and ocean breeze. 

And if our world comes tumbling down, I never could forgive myself, I'll say it now…

Her dress sways around her as she swings her basket, careless of the vegetables falling out. A great red moon begins its descent in the blue skies behind her.

You're the one, you are the only one.

.

.

Hyth introduces her to a secret one August night: a rooftop garden in Convocation Square, accessible if you know the right people. Thankfully, he brags to her, you do.

She's not fond of the Square in her everyday life. The towering buildings feel too much like ugly teeth sprung from the ground and the carved Lord Zodiark idols built into the pillars bring a sour taste to her mouth, though the rest of the city's architecture is aesthetically pleasing to her eye. She finds herself thinking, as Hyth leads them confidently through the plaza, that the architects responsible for this part of the city and everywhere else probably didn't bother to check in with each other that often.

The view from the top makes it all worthwhile, though: this high up the cloud cover sweeps the city below them away, leaving only a soft, grey ocean coloured blue and silver by the light of the moon above. Amaurot’s eco-friendly city lights do not pierce it and the sky above is hers for the viewing, brilliant and all encompassing.

Would you describe it for me? Paint for me a picture with your words, a voice murmurs in her head.

A sea of shimmering stars. Diamonds strewn across a raven gown, boundless and beautiful, another replies.

“It's beautiful,” she breathes out. She spins slowly, arms out as she takes it all in. “I've never seen the sky like this before.”

“Shepherd to the stars,” Hyth quotes some unknown thing behind her, chuckling. “A pity. Now you have.”

They stay up there for well over an hour, just watching the sky and occasionally exchanging words. Hyth draws constellations in the sky for her, ones she had never heard of before: the Bole, the Arrow. Belias and Chaos, entwined by one single star; Hashmal, far off on its own. Zalera, shining bright right above them.

The sound of the roof door stuttering open breaks their quiet reverie. Astra turns, then quickly scrambles into a polite bow. A masked man with greying temples watches them and frowns, the lines of his mouth stark and disapproving beneath the curve of his mask.

“Hythlodaeus,” he speaks. “What do you think you're doing?”

Her friend grins. “I didn't expect you to join us. I'm just showing the sky to my friend here. It's such a lovely sight, how could I not?” He turns to her and motions for the man to join them. His eyes, as pale as the moon hanging in the sky, are kind. “Astra, may I introduce Emet-Selch of the Convocation of Thirteen? He is the city’s architect, although I saw that grimace you were pulling at the Square.”

Embarrassment burns her cheeks and ears at being called out so before one of the Convocation members. She inclines her head demurely before him, hoping the fall of her hair hides her shame. “Astraea, my lord.”

There is a heavy, expectant silence. She keeps her eyes on the ground. At last, Emet-Selch speaks. “Astraea.” He says her name as if it is a foreigner’s, voice tumbling awkwardly over the syllables. “What do you do, here in Amaurot?”

She dares to look at him and takes in the heavy line of his shoulders, the signs of aging in the way he carries himself. The Amaurotine lifespan is a long one and crassly she wonders how old he is, to show his age so clearly. “I am an artist, my lord. I manage a gallery in the western side of the city.”

He takes his time examining her. “I see. What is the name of your establishment? Perhaps I've heard of it.”

“Azem’s Steps, my lord.”

Hyth speaks up before Emet-Selch can. “You've definitely heard of it, my friend. Probably a hundred times alone from me. I've been trying to convince you to go with me for months!”

The tension in the other man’s shoulders drains. “Of course,” he mutters. “It's fitting, isn't it.” When he looks at her again, there is the barest hint of a smile on his face. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Artist Astraea. If you would, I would enjoy hearing of your gallery… This Azem.”

.

.

All her life, she's dreamt of fanciful things. As a child she began drawing them and never stopped, culminating in Azem’s Steps being opened on the eve of her 25th birthday. When a guest asked--and they always did, eventually--the inspiration for the name, Astra would laugh.

“I dreamt I was a great somebody all my life. I'd sleep and she would be great, this woman, this Azem living in my dreams. She so clearly wanted her stories to be told, and as an artist, who am I to tell her no?”

.

.

She dreams of Azem burning in a great city that night, of Azem floating in the dark matter of space, of Azem sleeping in the center of a star. She wakes up and knows, inexplicably, that Azem's story is about to end.

.

.

On a grey October morning she visits Hyth for brunch. He swirls two sugar cubes in his tea and she stares at the pristine untouched surface of her coffee. She hasn't slept well--hasn't dreamt at all--coming up on two weeks now, and it shows. There are dark bags under her eyes. The tail she's seen in reflective surfaces flickers in the corners of her eyes now, dropping in exhaustion.

She looks up at Hyth and braces herself for the question she's wanted to ask and has been too scared to for months. 

“Whose bones is this city built on?”

Brilliant, shining Amaurot, City of Miracles--floating high on its throne in the clouds, looking down on all lesser existence below. She has never left its massive gates; has never met anyone who has. What's down there, other than what she reads about in history books? Oceans, cities, town squares--who else occupies this world besides them?

Kind, patient Hythlodaeus carefully removes his spoon and settles it against the rim of his cup. His gentle smile is full of dark things she cannot name.

“Yours, my dear.”

.

.

Emet-Selch has somehow obtained her number--she suspects Hyth--and will occasionally message her. The first few times come as a surprise; she opens the notifications to find articles on the art scene, announcements about the city funneling funding into public projects. Things he would assume she’d be interested in, based on their short conversation that August night. 

His texts are few and far between but they stopped being a surprise by sometime mid September. They carry short conversations, all professional, about this and that--but she never messages him first.

She doesn't know what to say to a Convocation member. How do you befriend someone who wears a mask amongst all the maskless, who makes it their life’s duty to serve the greater good? Do people like that have hobbies--have friends? What do they do in their spare time? What do they like to discuss?

She burns to ask him, curiosity a flame deep inside of her. She smothers it with images of the teeth-like buildings he and his kin surround themselves with, of the great Lord Zodiark idols featured prominently in the buildings’ exteriors. She's been to church, attends all the required sermons and the sessions around holidays, but--

But Lord Zodiark looms above her in her mind’s eye, and she is unsettled.

.

.

The woman in her bedroom mirror has a tail. Astra peers at her posterior over her shoulder and confirms that yes, she can see it outside of the mirror, too. She cannot touch it, her fingers phasing right through its existence, but she now doesn't need to track her passing in every reflective surface to see whether or not her own miracle is still with her.

The woman in her bedroom mirror is now blonde and grey eyed too, but Astra can see her own dark hair and doesn't need to confirm this follow up miracle. She examines the woman in the mirror and she, in turn, examines her.

Are you so sure? Hyth had asked her once. That you are the only Astraea? 

Yes, she decides, watching the woman smile at her from the mirror. I am. I know I am. Because her name is something else entirely.

The woman, grey eyes shining, beams.

.

.

Her name is Satella, she decides. She has replaced Azem as the star of Astra’s dreams and in cold, snowy December as she lies bundled warmly in her goose down blanket, she dreams of Satella’s life. Of a two bedroom cottage by the ocean; of a metal beast of a building crumbling in flames; of long treks across barbaric lands and across oceans and dying. So much dying, only to be brought back with miraculous magic again and again and be made to fight.

Why do you keep going? She wonders one night, watching her bleed out into the earth.

The woman stares back at her through the veil of the sky. Why do you? 

She paints faces and places and beasts and cities until her fingers are permanently stained with paint and her studio is bursting with canvases. Her new collection attracts crowd after crowd, a fervour overtaking the populace as they come to see her art. Conversation buzzes in its usually politely quiet halls--so familiar, I feel like I've seen it in a dream once, or maybe a book, the name is on the tip of my tongue.

Astra attends every night and shakes hands and laughs politely and consoles emotional outbursts a few come to experience. It's a dream I had, she demures more often than not and, more often than not, her fellow Amaurotine will gaze at her in wonder and say--

I think I had a dream of it, too.

.

.

Emet-Selch invites her for coffee the first week of January. She has her agreement ready to hit send on but the statues of Zodiark he commissioned into the city Center--city heart--tower over her like a nightmare.

She erases her reply and stops responding. 

.

.

In February she wakes up and marvels at her own body. Why is she so--big? Where are her ears? Why can’t she feel her tail?

In March she wakes up, and marvels at her own life. How long has she had this apartment? Why have her parents not come to see her for her new art launch? Where are her friends?

In April she wakes up, and marvels at the screaming that comes from beneath the city. Why does no one else hear it?

Why does no one else hurt?

.

.

Summertime in Amaurot is lazy, warm sunshine and bees on the city streets. A child cries when they are stung. She hums to herself as she walks--

“Oh, don't you see, darling, my honeybee…”

Her gallery is closed for the month, website noting vacation hours. She wanders Amaurot until her feet hurt, until night falls and she meets Hyth at Convocation Square in the blue light of the moon. He makes pleasant conversation with her as they take the elevator to the very top of a toothy building, where a secret garden awaits her. She stretches out her arms and breathes in the fresh air, watches the clouds roll slowly and silently beneath them.

An ocean of nothing. Grey mist hiding the world below--all her life, watching the world from her place in the City of Miracles, except now she is almost like a Convocation member herself staring down at those beneath her. Watching, waiting, observing the slow motions of life year after year.

She has not met the others--only Emet-Selch--but she has seen them on her TV screen: aging beings, devoted and feared. Respected? It is the same thing, after all.

She wonders once more: how old must they be, to show their age as such in their near-immortal Amaurotine life.

She turns to Hyth, who watches the stars above them. “Did you know,” he begins, “that we once were friends? In the before.” A conversation thread picked up she wasn’t quite aware they were having, as casual as a comment on the weather. (It’s always perfectly seasonal in Amaurot: warm summers but not too warm; mild autumns with just enough rain; perfectly white winters and blooming, scented springs.)

 “But then we forgot. Or rather, you forgot and I remembered. And then we both forgot again. And on it goes.” He turns to her and holds out his hand. She reaches over and grasps it in hers, squeezing it tightly.

“It’s funny how time works, isn’t it.”

They both turn to watch the stars above them. Constellations make themselves known before her: Loghrif, Mitron. Fandanial and Nabriales.

Lahabrea.

Emet-Selch, right above them.

From her place over Amaurot, they look close enough to grasp.

She reaches up and plucks them as stones into the palm of her hand.

[tishinada]

Just random thoughts about this:

(ENDWALKER SPOILERS)

Does anyone else have the urge to take Argos everywhere with you? After all, he was Venat’s familiar, and I have no doubt she gave him her love of travel and seeing new places, etc. And from what we saw of her in Elpis, I think it’s clear that she would have created familiars with souls (can’t remember if that’s exactly how they explained the difference in the two kinds of familiars, but Hades and Hyth do comment on the WoL being unusual that way, but not ooc for Azem, her former protege’.)

Argos may be the last living being who remembers Elpis and the world unsundered (the sundered Ascians have died repeatedly and have only fragments of memory at best.)** He’s lived through the same thousands of years that Hydaelyn did, seen the same tragedies and triumphs and horrors and beauty. (Though I suppose it’s possible he spent it on the moon with the Watcher. Still, loyal to her until the end.)

And in the end, when she’s gone and after thousands of years the threat of the Final Days has finally been averted, Argos comes to the WoL. Who he had a rather dim opinion of when he first met, apparently. But the WoL is a tie to Venat/Hydaelyn, and he chooses to become a companion to someone who has proved themselves and has the major part of Azem’s soul, clearly dear to Venat. And as that remnant of the Traveler, will presumably offer opportunities to see Etheirys in all its wonder and awe. Because he was made by Venat, and that’s what she loved above all.

Of course, it’s possible he still serves her, even in her “rest.” After all, the lurking shoebill is very likely one of Hades/Emet-Selch’s familiars and keeps watching you long after E-S’s death---including on the Source near the Waking Sands (or so I’m told.) Maybe that’s how he and Hythlodaeus were able to keep up with you. So maybe Argos is with you so Venat can follow the WoL into the uncertain future. But whether Argos is with you on his own or to act as eyes for Venat, I find myself taking him almost everywhere with me.

**I haven’t watched all the cutscenes for the post-Endwalker raids with the Twelve, though it sounds as if they’re probably surviving collaborators of Venat’s. But there’s one person who has existed since Hydaelyn defeated and confined Zodiark, the Watcher. And his words post-Endwalker make me a little teary-eyed:

Though, let’s be honest: soothing and gentle was only one side of her. The other side is the Venat who twice challenged you to prove yourself in combat with her, and you definitely get the impression that was a common occurrence with her and Azem, lol.

Also: does anyone else wonder what the watcher will do now that his watch over Zodiark is over? Did Hydaelyn give him a secondary purpose? The Loporrits, obviously, are being left to find their own purpose now, but has he?

[sntoot]

adding more to my collection of silly things ive done as hyth (previous edition here)

i had to include hyth looking at shade!hythlodaeus like ‘...close friends. yeah thats it.’ because i was cackling watching that cutscene again. they didnt have to put that ... there but they sure did!

anyways ‘he is just cranky’ is just going to be how i explain emet selch now, ty for that

[cinisemperium]

💚 SHIPPING INFO 💚

ANSWER THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR MUSES SO PEOPLE KNOW HOW SHIPPING WORKS ON YOUR BLOG.

Tagged by: no one, i stole it

Tagging: anyone who wants to yoink this, be my guest!

1. WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER(S)?

whoo boy i have a lot of muses so here we go. will be listed in alphabetical order by fandom. putting a read more here because it's A LOT

side note - i ship with just about anyone. just because it isn't my OTP does not mean i'm not interested!

Apex Legends Wattson - Darksparks. I adore this ship so much.

Arcane Jinx - I don't really ship her with anyone, but if I had to pick, I'd go with Ekko

Darling in the Franxx Zero Two - Hiro, obviously. Hiro - See above.

DA:I Solas - Female Lavellan

Fairy Tail Natsu Dragneel - It's a tie between Gray and Lucy Yukine Dragneel ( OC ) - Grey

FFXIV Emet - Selch / Hades - @starsasunder 's WoL, Inanna. If not a WoL, then Hyth

Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric - Winry

Genshin Aether - Xiao Cyno - Tignhari Kokomi - Gorou Lumine - Zhongli Xiao - Aether

MHA Shoto Todoroki - OT3, actually, with Katsuki and Izuku Toga Himiko - Ochako Dabi - Hawks Rumi Usagiyama - I actually don't have one for her yet!

Naruto Naruto Uzumaki - Sasuke Sasuke Uchiha - Naruto Sakura Haruno - Naruto

Oshi no Ko Ai Hoshino - I don't have one for her. Aqua Hoshino - Kana Kana Arima - Aqua

Overwatch Widowmaker - hahahaah have fun shipping with the murderous one Lifeweaver - Baptiste

2. HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

That depends on a lot of factors, including the muse ( like for example Emet Selch is thousands of years old ), and the verse ( such as vampires, reincarnation, etc. ). I will NOT, however, do any form of NSFW shipping with minors, and I will not ship minors with adults. I will ship teenage characters, but that will all be kept strictly SFW.

3. HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NSFW?

Anything that goes beyond gentle kissing and light touching.

4. ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?

I used to be, but not anymore. You wanna ship? Throw it at me. NOt sure I'll go for it? Throw it at me anyway.

5. WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?

I'm open to shipping anyone with just about anyone, provided we can make it make sense.

6. DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?

Sort of? I consider throwing a shippy meme at me asking. If I'm down for it ( and chances are I will be ), I'll reply to it and off we go.

7. ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?

Yes and no, to both. I adore shipping, don't get me wrong. I think ships area great way to explore characters and their growth and depth. However, I do not think a plot needs a ship to be a good plot. I'm more of a if it happens then it happens kind of shipper.

8. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

Naruto and Sasuke, Natsu and Gray, Zero Two and Hiro. I will write these ships all day long, any day of the week.

9. FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?

Hop into my inbox! Whether that be my DMs with a plot hook or even just 'hey can we ship', or my inbox with a shippy meme. Throw it at me and we'll see where it goes!