#this is how everyone ended up with the auracite

[tallbluelady]

Oh. Oh man. I never thought about how hard ShB must have been for Urianger, lying to Rowan above everyone else and watching her suffer, knowing he can't say anything. And then when it all falls down... Oh man, the guilt. How did that all go down? What was ShB like for them?

It's great, because Urianger made the decision to start actively courting Rowan while she was absorbing all the Lightwarden's light. The thought process: I can offer my heart as a hideaway through all the trauma of this! This won't end badly at all! What happened after is entirely up to her, and he fully expected to be dumped right after they returned home with the Exarch's death.

Something that I'm kinda looking forward to exploring more is the fact that Urianger underestimates how much his affection for Rowan grows and evolves when they reunite on the First. Like the Exarch, he has this idealized form of Rowan to think about for three years. Then she's back in his life and she's real. And not only is she real, she's more complicated and fun and interesting than a memory could ever be. He's been in love before and he thought he knew how it would effect him. But love is different every time, and with every person. By the time they get to Mt. Gulg (I almost typed Mt. Guilt lmao), he's starting to realize that he's not going to handle life well without her.

He buries his guilt in acts of affection or trying to humor Rowan and Ryne. Urianger is going to tell jokes (Rowan gets his sense of humor) and find flowers and trinkets to put in her hair. He's going to be the attentive healer after battle, and while he can't do much to fight the Light, he's going to do everything else. Because what else can he do? The plan must work. The Exarch worked for over 100 years on it...

But the plan doesn't work. The Exarch can't take the Light into himself and fling himself into oblivion and send them home. And now Rowan is cracking under the pressure that would be too much for any one person and now it's the person he wholeheartedly loves. He picks her up and runs down that mountain, probably teleporting down at least half the distance. The next time she's conscious she's out to get Emet-Selch's head and he can't stand that she would do it alone either.

And then she forgives him. He cannot fathom it, but the release on his heart is such a relief. He's ready to go to the bottom of the ocean to face the villain with her. And if we ask Rowan... that's all she ever wanted. Rowan doesn't back down from the monsters she's asked to slay. She knows she can do it, and she knows she's one of frighteningly few who even can. On the First, she is the only one who can face the Lightwardens and live. She'd just like some support for the other things, you know? It's why she was so receptive to Urianger in the first place - he's doing things, not just raging at the injustice. She's faced injustice before and people ranting at it never did her any good. The romance did comfort and shield her. He gives her White Auracite to vanquish Emet-Selch. He's supported her the entire time they've known each other.

After they defeat Hades they have to have a long conversation about it all. How it wasn't really the fact that she had to face something that could kill her that made Rowan upset, it was the fact that Urianger and the Exarch hid details about that would all entail. He vows to be more open, and luckily that was a thread that the writers decided to continue on through Endwalker. (On top of that, the whole situation colors their sex life as well, which is fun to write about.)

So yeah! I hoped you enjoyed my essay about my Wolship!

[meowww-ffxiv]

Meowdred was a bottomless pit with a bottomless soul so he actually wasn't that badly affected by the surfeit of Light aether during ShB until the very end.

But Liios surprisingly did far worse. It began almost right after the first Lightwarden that he absorbed, though he passed it off as aether sickness -- he was prone to it; he was sensitive to aetheric fluxes and specifically wore handmade gears to lessen its effect; the Blessing of Light protected Liios's soul from warping, not his flesh -- and everyone was like. Oh, okay. Well that's normal enough.

But then the second Lightwarden. And the third.

Thancred found Liios like a ragdoll under a tree in Il Mheg after facing Titania, his eyes shut tight and his lips bloodless, breathing shallowly. Ptolemy and Alphinaud managed to get Liios up and walking between them, and they deduced that it was just a more extreme case of aether sickness.

No problem. They were running short on time, Liios said. Nausea medications, Eorzean Tylenol. He didn't tell them about the full-body aches and the sudden, twisting bouts of pain that felt like his internal organs were twisting in on themselves. He had an inkling what caused it, and he knew there was no ready solution.

This was why, every time they returned to the Crystarium from an outing, Liios went straight to bed and "slept" for at least a full day. The pain kept him up, which caused him to be cranky and shunned company like an injured animal being carelessly approached, and his sudden reticence scared the Scions... They had NEVER seen Liios act like that before. Alphinaud and Alisaie had never seen him act like that before. So most of them left Liios alone.

Everyone except Ptolemy, who a) was a doctor and b) was his brother.

The arguments they had were the most hurtful and unproductive ones in their lives of eighty years. Arguing with a feverish toddler, Ptolemy said, was less pointless than this. But the fact that Liios didn't hold back his petulance to Ptolemy's face was an unfortunately clear indication of how shitty he actually felt.

Pain exacerbated stress, and stress past that critical threshold, held overlong, began to affect Liios's heart. Palpitations turned into dizziness and more nausea, and then Liios didn't get up at all.

To his credit, Liios did suspect that white auracite might help, and offset his bouts of uselessness by telling Urianger to let him borrow it. Channeling some of the light aether in there, with Ryne's help, did in fact grant Liios the relief he needed to keep going.

It also showed the Scions that Liios was still actively invested in his own well-being, even if he batted their hands away like a feral cat whenever they tried to help. Alisaie wanted to deck him with her focus, but she refrained. He looked awful. She didn't want to push him.

(Y'shtola's opinion of the Exarch during this time was...how do we say...bad.)

It was fine for awhile. And then as with most stopgap measures, it wasn't enough.

By then shit was TURBO going to hell in a handbasket anyway, so did it really matter that Liios needed a little help walking. In spite of it all, Liios couldn't hate G'raha Tia. But he did hate Emet-Selch for an entirely different reason.

Selfishly, Liios didn't fear the thought of dying so much. If he died and saved these people, then it was a price he'd pay. And there was a sense of perverse relief in that. For once, he wasn't being left behind. For once, it was his turn on the chopping block. And then Emet-Selch came along and ruined it.

...Who did Liios hate more? Emet-Selch, or himself, for wanting to take up that offer of his? He didn't want to turn into a sin eater in front of his friends and his brother. He didn't. Okay, he might even hate G'raha Tia a little, after all. This was what happened when you let a history major pilot a spaceship.

At least Ardbert was there, still. They hadn't gotten along all this while Liios was in the First, but they were helplessly stuck together. So...

Liios wasn't fast enough. They caught up with him on the amaro launch, all of them. And then where was he going to run, huh?

When Urianger apologized, Liios thought that he was being kind when he told him, "I don't think the truth would have changed the outcome, for what it was worth."

Alisaie got mad. "Are you telling us that if you knew, you wouldn't have done a single thing different?! Wouldn't have thrown yourself at the Lightwarden like you're some-- some expendable--"

"Emet-Selch was watching us the whole time. He would have thwarted our plans far sooner had we actually been innovative with it," Liios replied. He was impressed with how very calm he sounded, even though his entire body ached and there was white creeping into his vision. "He only toyed with us because he must have known this was always going to end this way, I'm sure."

(No, that wasn't true. Emet-Selch was sincere when he told the Scions all that about Zodiark and Hydaelyn, and he was sincere in his desire to test whether a seven-times rejoined soul could be on par with an Ascian's. Even so, Liios knew those types. With all evidence arrayed before him, Emet-Selch would still only choose his course. The irrationality of those who believed themselves rational was the most absurd. Liios would know.)

"So now what?" Thancred asked. He gestured at the amaro launch and the light-laden sky behind Liios, the sharpness of his movement the only hint of his rage. "What was your grand strategy?"

Liios didn't look at him. He looked at Ptolemy instead. "I really am sorry," he told him. "About everything."

"I don't care for your apologies," Ptolemy answered. "But I am coming with you. If you die, you take me with you. So let's go."

It wasn't going to work like that. Liios knew he wasn't going to let it work like that. He'd already cobbled together a half-ass plan to try and get his friends back to the Source, had already told Feo Ul to deliver his shakily-penned letter to Krile and Tataru.

Flow certainly was a powerful spell. And Liios hoped Y'shtola wouldn't blame herself when he did end up using it.

Ardbert really wiped Liios's butt for him in the end, and he'd quite forgotten about the half-ass plan in question until they had all managed to go home and Krile told him, "I'm glad we never had to use your contingency plan."

Alphinaud, unfortunately, overheard. It took a little whittling to get the truth out of Tataru, but he got it. And in his haste to explain the mechanisms of his failsafe to Krile, Liios had simply included all of his research logs and a final letter of explanation about what she must do to rescue the Scions once he sent their souls into the Rift.

Liios had always kept incredibly good notes. The logs were dated. His "contingency plan" had been in the works since he defeated Titania. He had known, for months, that he would very likely die.

Alphinaud did not show this to Alisaie. He knew what she was going to do about it already, and frankly speaking, Liios had upset all of them quite enough in the three months they were on the First. Never mind Ptolemy.

But he did have to say it to someone. So Alphinaud said it to Liios himself. He broached the topic hesitantly, not even sure how to put the chill down his spine he'd felt when he first realized into words.

Liios just looked at him. "Alphinaud," he said. "I hope you haven't gotten this far thinking that we can simply win without sacrifice."

"We could have," Alphinaud argued. "If we had known--"

Liios shook his head. "We didn't have an advantage in sheer power until the very end -- and only because Ardbert offered a solution in the eleventh hour. Else, it would have gone as it should. The Light within me breaks free, and I use Flow to send you all back."

It had been months since their return from the First. Liios still looked sickly, thinner than he had ever been since Alphinaud first met him. The light within him was gone, spent to the last, but it had scored marks on his body. His appetite was nonexistent, and severe bouts of nerve pain and chest pain had kept Liios bedbound more often than not.

His hands, at least, seemed intact. As was his mind, for all that its sharpness was fatalistic.

"Have you always thought this way?" Alphinaud had to wonder. "Were all the other times when you smiled and said that we can win, you were thinking about our odds like this?"

"It had always been an uphill battle," Liios replied. "We grope blindly in the dark, hoping that we don't accidentally step on the cat's claw and be disemboweled. That's how it had been between us and the Ascians."

He mulled this over for a moment before continuing, "I don't know if I gave them too much credit or too little. Thousands of years, and in the end, they are no better than us. Children flailing in mud, trying to recall a sandcastle that the waves already washed away."

Liios actually laughed, then, the sound rueful. "Had Emet-Selch simply killed me when I stepped foot on the First, or killed G'raha, he truly could have won." He shook his head. "Instead he reached out. He explained. He wanted to be understood. Even Elidibus abandoned everything to scream his anguish to me, and in his rage, set himself up in G'raha's trap."

Liios wasn't really answering the question. Alphinaud had the impression that he was dodging it on purpose. By now he had learned that you simply needed to corner him, however, so he asked, "When are you going to stop coddling us in your optimism?"

"Optimism serves a purpose," Liios answered. "If we're going to be doing something absurd and stupid anyway, then we might as well do it upbeat-like, no?"

Alphinaud shook his head. He was beginning to understand where Alisaie's perpetual frustration with the man came from. Liios Suvali was always right. It was like arguing with your parents. Or a brick wall. Which was like arguing with your parents, anyway.

"Allow me one more question," Alphinaud said eventually.

Liios gestured good-humoredly, at his being in bed and the eight different medicines for muscle relaxers and painkillers and arrhythmia sitting menacingly on his nightstand; he wasn't going anywhere, even if he wanted to.

Seeing -- actually seeing -- the state Liios was in... no, the aftermath of it all made Alphinaud's heart clench so painfully he forgot for a moment what he wanted to say. But then he did manage it. "When you weigh our odds to yourself... do you factor in hope at all? You speak always of outcomes and contingencies, probabilities and statistics, and yet never of the thought that things can change." Can be better. Can be less of a burden on Liios himself.

"I don't," Liios answered.

He really must not feel well, if he wasn't plastering on some smile and lie. And still, this was the most honest he'd ever been to Alphinaud.

"No plan should be made on thoughts and prayers," Liios continued, then sighed. "I don't think that is what you meant to ask me, either."

"Fair enough. I just wonder if you think about us being able to change those odds when you weigh them."

"I do," Liios answered, and this too sounded honest. He stared at the wall for a moment, then turned back to Alphinaud. "But as a reminder, I'm dogshit at understanding people, and you are always full of surprises."

The way he said it startled a laugh out of Alphinaud.

The atmosphere eased, then. Conversation drifted, from Alphinaud's new carbuncle arrays to Liios's plans to return to the First and check on the ongoing replanting projects -- a world on the brink of apocalypse made good use of Liios's background as an environmental engineer, as it turned out.

And then Liios dozed off, worn out, and Alphinaud left him be.

He asked Krile not to discuss the contingency plan Liios had sent her. She agreed.

[carnage-scissors]

I had a few insane thoughts that came together to create this.

This sums up Final Fantasy Tactics pretty well I think

For context: The image in the very back is from the video by Brian David Gilbert called 'there is a rock in my house'

[avauntus]

I was recently lured back to Final Fantasy XIV by their “returner” campaign (if you are away a while, log in and play for free for two weeks). I’ve been having a great deal of fun, got over my “healing yips” and jumped into group content, and finished the Shadowbringers main “5.0″ storyline.

(Yes, it made me cry. Yes, like everyone else-- I concede it is excellent as everyone says.)

Final Fantasy games always kind of...”wink and nod” at their series traditions. And thus I’ve been happily playing along (when I’m not sobbing, natch), running across the occasional call-back to threads I know from earlier in the series, going “Oh, that’s cute. That’s clever,” and not thinking too hard...until the most recent breadcrumb dialogue line for the continuation of the story (patch 5.1) made me put down my controller, put my head in my hands, and go “Aaaaaargh!”

Urianger in brief: “I think I’ll be a problem ON PURPOSE.” lol.

Theory overthinking hours! I can come back later and see if I was right. 

SPOILERS, after the cut, for Shadowbringers through 5.0 and, uh...Final Fantasies 3/6, 7, 10, and 12. (lol)

One of the very, very clever things Shadowbringers did is finish up much of the story of the Umbral Calamities by retconing the existence of the FFXIV storyline as taking place and/or belonging to the same universe of every single other Final Fantasy game all at once, many worlds existing side-by-side ignorant of each other, each just sliightly different from the next.

Which means all those “clever callbacks” aren’t just fun Easter eggs for fans-- they’re also fair game for the plot. If the game isn’t just being goofy, it’s leaning really hard into the Final Fantasy tradition of the “Oh NO Statues.” 😆

The what now?

The “Oh NO Statues” are my mental nickname for the recurring powerful, often sentient monuments that show up in Final Fantasy and invariably break the world:

 Kefka did a number on home values with these three in FFVI, for example.

Later Final Fantasy games would refine and riff on this, of course. “Oh no, the statue is a space alien (?)” (Jenova, FFVII); “Oh no, the statue came to life and destroyed our civilization!” (Sin, FFX).

This isn’t Zanarkand, but it totally could be, right?

And my personal favorite of the “Oh NO Statues” incarnations, The Occuria, FFXII. Statues who aim “guide the History of Man,” ancient beings who manifest as aetheric masked forms, often visible only to a few, whose origins are (in FFXII) unknown:

Balthier: This creature... So this is your Venat?

Cid: Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca! Just how far will you go for power? Does your lust for nethicite consume you? Am I right? I am, aren't I. A worthy daughter of the Dynast-King! You would do well to go to Giruvegan. Who knows? You may receive a new Stone for your trouble.

Ashe: Your words mean nothing to me!

Cid: The reins of History back in the hands of Man.

And later:

Cid: To hell with the Occuria and their stones! What good a power that cannot be harnessed? Baubles best-suited for study, no more.

Vayne: We conquered two kingdoms, that you might study these "baubles."

Cid: Oh, I am grateful for the sacrifice. Without it, manufacted nethicite would have eluded us - an unrivaled weapon. Tell me, Venat. Have I not been an apt pupil?

Venat: My counsel did but guide your able hand. Through power of Man, the Stones did you perfect. Yes. So much accomplished in six fleeting years. Man's fervor o'er all obstacles prevailing.

Cid: Our lives are much too short. You undying might waste long centuries away, but we, I fear, cannot.

Vayne: Just so. Had we more time, we might have used more "prudent" measures.

Cid: Your greatest work still lies before you. Not lightly will the Occuria allow you to wrest the reins of History from their grasp.

Venat: Indeed. What claim does Gerun have on history's reins... seated on throne immortal, rent from time? For your ascendance, Vayne, I offer prayer. May you attain all that which is your due.

Vayne: Attain it I shall.

This is... fascinating, because it is heavily implied by a different storyline in FFXIV that Ivalice and the events of FFXII, exist somewhere in the worlds that were shattered from the Source that was FFXIV’s ‘main world.’ There is even an Ivalice in FFXIV, but it is NOT the one we know from FFXII-- Fran exists in FFXIV as a general of Dalmasca, and to all appearances (that I’ve seen, so far), a key difference is Balthier never existed, or never left his position in the Empire.

(On realizing this, I took a good minute to be amused that Balthier really WAS the “leading man” as he so often trumpeted, that apparently so much depended on his existing in his bravura sky piratery, all unknowing-- bless.)    

As Ivalice exists -- well, the ��Occuria’ are much like Emet-Selch and the other Ascians, aren’t they? “...seated on throne immortal, rent from time...” indeed.

Of course, in FFXIV, we’ve struck down most of the “relevant” Ascians by the end of Shadowbringers so what then? Almost certainly, the last “sane” one is gone. 

But what’s interesting to me is this: Emet-Selch asked us to remember his people, and he mentions the three Ascians we know as antagonists-- but every single time he talked about his “purpose” it wasn’t to save the named Ascians. It was to save some unnamed other or others, his “lost friends and loves”-- one of which is heavily implied to be connected to the player character. 

(There’s a whole “fragments of a shredded soul thing,” but-- ‘we don’t have time to get into that’ meme-- here.)

The other-other Ascian that is eluded to --heavily-- in the run-up to the end of Shadowbringers 5.0 is the Unnamed Fourteenth-- the Paragon who turned away from the other Ascian councilmembers when the details of their plan to save their civilization and the toll that would be paid were revealed. I think we’re meant to think this conscientious objector is the one who summoned the Light, to grant autonomy to mortals rather than guide them towards a destiny that would serve the Ascians’ return, even if the mortals were “shadows” of what had come before the worlds were split.

Beyond a lot of breadcrumbs, we don’t get much more than that in the ending bit of 5.0, but that sure sounds like Venat to me.

Venat was always portrayed by a woman voice actor, despite the Occuria being “genderless,” and...

OK, so...what does this have to do with nethicite?

In FFXIV, “manufactured nethicite” exists -- it’s called White Nethicite Auricite (oops!) and the Scions (the faction our character belongs to) use it to trap Ascians’ will and shatter their energies.

It’s also heavily implied that if natural auracite is allowed to feed on mortal souls and imbued with aether (energy), it will cause mortals to go insane. The Ivalice raid sequence spells all this out, but in short-- your fears and desires are made manifest in exchange for your life energy. Over time, auracite exposed to mortals gains a low-level chaotic will of its own, like the One Ring in Tolkien’s works.

It is, in short, a staggeringly insane idea to propose putting your soul into a soul-eating crystal as Urianger is doing. And Urianger has no way of knowing this, of course, but this will of the nethicite in FFXII came from the Occuria -- their tools to “guide the History of Man.”

There are no more unsundered Ascians left worth mentioning (Elidibius, lol), but the energy of that Unnamed Fourteenth is out there scattered in the Light-- and this is “White [light] Auracite.” Despite everything, I don’t know that the Light are all sunshine and rainbows for mortals. For one, they like stability. 

If the Scions start unknowingly imbuing themselves with the powers of Ascians by merging themselves with insane immortal chaos crystals (!!), they may manage to bring about the Eight Umbral Calamity and the end of civilization anyway by unbalancing the world(s) themselves.

...Wouldn’t that be a kick in the pants for Emet-Selch? I mean, if the main character hadn’t had to put him out of his misery already. (*sob*) 

[elfyourmother]

for the character meme: Emet Selch !

How I feel about this character:

Favorite antagonist in XIV and objectively in the conversation for best in the entire FF franchise. Emet is just a deeply fascinating character and honest to god the best part about ShB for me, it’s not even close. It’s not just that he’s gorgeous and witty and a charming little shit when he wants to be. It’s also that I love those characters with layers and layers to dig into and Emet’s one in spades. He literally carries his grief on his back.

This is the real reason why I think DRK was the poster job for ShB besides the blindingly obvious surface reason: the deep parallels between Emet’s story and the DRK quests, but specifically the SB arc with Myste. And considering the same writer is responsible for both, I absolutely believe it was on purpose. Every awful thing Emet ever did, he did for love—I always read him as the very first Dark Knight, and the quintessential one at that. But he could not get to that place of acceptance that Gisele did with Esteem’s help, imo bc he was tempered and it would have run contrary to Zodiark’s purpose.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Gisele first and foremost, obviously. I could go on and on about it, and have before, but the truth is he’s as excellent a foil for her as Ysayle was. And in a lot of ways, Emet’s like bad end Gisele—like I said, everything he’s done has been driven by love, and both of them are prone to playing 4D chess to get the results they want. They were just playing it with each other on the First, and they both realized it fairly quickly. Then there’s the fact that Gisele’s very presence on Source challenges his assertions about mortals and what they’re willing to do for one another—she’s there because she sacrificed her life to save Ferelden. She accepted oblivion to do it, even, a fate worse than death; she had no way of knowing Hydaelyn’s blessing was even bc a thing much less something she had that would protect her from Urthemiel’s soul attempting to consume hers and destroying them both in the process. Her entire existence shatters all of Emet’s notions about mortals. She fascinates him because of that, and the fact she doesn’t put up with his shit. They’re just terribly well suited to each other and would be even without the reincarnation romance aspect to the ship.

Hythlodaeus is the other one, and lately I’ve really been fascinated with the idea of them being a triad with Müllenkamp (Gisele!Azem) as opposed to the V with Emet as the shared point that I’ve always had them as.

#1 after Gisele as far as this life goes is Y’shtola, and it’s not nearly as cracky as it sounds. Of the Scions, she’s by far the most sympathetic to him. Urianger and also Thancred—the latter because they have a lot in common, to the point Emet feels a lot like how Thancred could have ended up in the bad future, had he survived everyone else.

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Fun Uncle to the twins.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

That it really was him being summoned from the Lifestream in the 5.3 trial, and not just some phantom memory fail safe he put in the Azem crystal. Yeah it kinda goes against what we know wrt what happens to Ascians once they’ve been obliterated by white auracite, but the White Day quests last year basically said he’s in the Lifestream and still conscious, and his entire “hat” as an ancient Amaurotine was his unusual attunement with/affinity for the Lifestream. If anyone could cheat death it’s Hades.

That’s also why I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him, but that’s probably wishful thinking on my part because I love him so damn much.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

Something kinda minor, but I wish we had gotten confirmation that he’d possessed Varis in the second half of the parley. It’s weird how it seemed to be so heavily implied and then never got followed up on and then Varis died so welp.

Also, i wish that he comes back somehow. He does in Gisele’s verse, and becomes a Scion even, but I miss him desperately in the actual game. I want to see a reborn Emet having to cope with the world as it is, learning to fall in love with it (and maybe realizing Amaurot wasn’t the utopia he believed it was. I hope we get to explore more of that in Endwalker, the idea that the “perfect world” actually wasn’t). And helping to fix what he broke.

[ahlis-xiv]

journal entries: no. 50.1

There is a flurry of notes that cross the page and for a second the contents look more like a section taken out of a reference meant for means of particular aetherical research than a personal journal. Writing concerning white auracite occur multiple times yet drift off with incomplete sentences and crossed out thoughts and ideas; it is a mass of brainstormed lines going nowhere. Inserted between the pages is a folded note depicting a sketch: a small drawing of what appears to be a replica of an “intriguing” molded piece of clay clearly made for the sake of posterity, the words ‘Alisaie’s Monstrosity AKA ‘Angelo’’ written below it. Following this and the menagerie of scientific mental exercises is some notation involving the city of Eulmore, specifically over the recent happenings concerning government; it is much more sparse than prior pages as what ever was being written prior is suddenly stopped in its tracks by the following entry.

Varis is dead. Estinien, that wayward bastard, was the one to break the news to us.

One of these days he and I will have a moment I swear especially as he believes it’s his responsibility to scold me after what happened! I may owe him my life (wanted to return the favor I suppose!) but this is just ridic   I should be celebrating and opening a lovely bottle of wine at the manor or some such had this happened at any other time, but I have taken to hiding out observation in the desert of Amh Araeng as it is preferable to just about everything else. Alisaie’s elementary efforts under Beq Lugg’s tutelage has interested me, to say the least, and more often than not I have been picked upon to serve as a kind of wall to bounce various ideas and questions off of. It has led to a sort of discourse I realized I missed, as nothing has compared since my days in Limsa Lominsa.

In reality I should be back home resting and researching and reading and talking and assuring myself in figuring what the blithering fuck any of what happened even means    but that means speaking to him

how would I even start?

Try at the beginning you twit how els

There is a lot of indecisive crossed-out scribbling here.

The work is never finished, after all! With our prior plans with the auracite more or less dashed we certainly have our work cut out for us on bringing everyone back, much as that bothers me to admit it as I am frankly out of any ideas right now

But truly, as I sit here in the shadow and respite from the sun, watching the slow yet hopeful improvement of those cast aside to the literal end of the world it’s an all-too stark reminder than I cannot wait any longer. It is useless to ask why I hesitate: I know why. It is because I lack answers, or the answers that I do have are simply not good enough. It is because I am fearful, and my thoughts play the damndest things upon my heart to the point of agonizing frustration.

I can voice my anger all I want to this book yet little will come from it; there are no revelations here. And I know the others would listen too, that I can trust in their willingness. But it is all the same. No one left can or will answer to my questions of the self: My self, and of a time so far back and removed to a moment where it is nigh unfathomable that such an existence was real. I have better chances in a dream to find what aches in me now.

I want so much to be selfish in this moment yet the weight of what fate will befall my friends if we are not successful in returning them home is ever-present. I should not focus on the burden of my heart and the love that is struggling under it.

Is it terrible? That despite everything all I want to do is fly far, far away back home to nurture what is the most terrifying joy I have yet to feel in my life? I want it so much

It is not fair! It is not

I must speak what has pulled me through everything up until now, to put words to the proof. Never before in all my years have I allowed myself so much reliance on others. On my friends. On another whom I have taken a chance, a frightening leap of faith

I miss him. I love him, damn it all I do and I want nothing else but that, and to hells with the rest

I have to refrain for now.

I will focus all of my efforts on everyone’s return home. These nerves do me no favors, I know. I hope the next course of action will be soon.

[onwesterlywinds]

The Worst-Case Scenario

After waking from her disconnect from Shemhazai, A'zaela was determined, if not a bit angry. Once she pushed through her grogginess, she said to the others, "We need to go." And without so much as waiting to be given back her weapons, she started off up the stairs, in the direction her group had come from, away from the corpses and the swords of the Subterra.

"A'zaela...!" Nive hissed after her, pausing only to gather the late king’s sword and to make sure Tai followed behind them. Alaq'it, too, seemed startled by A'zaela's sudden rise, but she rushed up the stairs after her friends as best as she could, taking faster strides to keep up.

And the darkness in the Subterra no longer seemed as oppressive as it did before: together, the four of them were able to find their way back to ground level without problems.

Tai hurried at the rear, having created a makeshift sling to keep his currently useless arm at his chest. "Glad you're awake now, at least." His eyes traveled upwards, up toward where something was certainly happening.

"When we tell this to the others," said A'zaela, "can we leave out the part where I passed out? I would like that." Still, she kept her voice low: though her eyes had adjusted to the dark of the Subterra long ago, she couldn't fully pierce the darkness still. "And we will be telling this to the others," she continued, quieter, as though trying to convince herself they were going to make it out all right.

"Only if we can leave out any reference to me crying like a child," Alaq'it piped up, still taking the steps two at a time.

"I think we've all had things happened that we don't want to talk about," Nive added. "You know what they say, what happens in the Gold Saucer..."

Alaq'it gave Nive a very confused look at this idiom, but clearly decided to ask for clarification later.

"...Stays in the Subterra," A'zaela clarified begrudgingly.

Akhutai Urit chuckled. "Certainly the others don't need the *details* of it all, anyway."

As soon as some light appeared at the top of the stairs, A'zaela stuffed her linkpearl into her ear to try to get a signal. Her haste made her reckless, made her forget for a moment that the Garlean troops could definitely try and hack into it.

"Hello?" she called. "Is anyone using this line? Gods, I'd even take Fawn and Bull right about now. Riskbreakers, come in - what's the status report?"

But no Garlean interference came through - either on the linkpearl connection, or on the nearest landing. All the while, Akhutai Urit kept looking upward.

"Something is definitely happening up there," he murmured. "...And no doubt the Garleans will be standing in the way. We won't be able to avoid a fight this time, I'm betting."

---

With the echoes on combat from within the tower and the manifestation of a beacon on top, Priscilla's heart sank to her stomach. "We can't sit here forever, can we?" she said to Orella.

Orella shrugged, and winced, still not used to the extent of her injury yet. She'd sat in silence for the most part, ignoring Pris, occasionally looking out of the window of the airship at the tower. Always frowning. "...Did you ever have any of the stones?" she asked Pris.

"I did not, and would rather keep it that way," Priscilla replied as she started readying herself.

As soon as those words left her lips, a small unit of Garlean troops arrived - presumably to investigate the Prima Vista's shuttle.

"I had one," Orella continued, as though unbothered by their new arrivals. She did, however, stand to mirror Pris' movements. Strapping her gauntlets on was no easy task with only one working arm, but she forced herself through the motions, panting by the end from the effort. "It was taken. It's here, too."

"Then we'd better take it," said Priscilla. "We've got company."

"Company..." And, peering out of the window, Orella recognized the uniforms. "Well, shit. Think we can make it inside without a fight?"

"We can distract them with one of my turrets," Priscilla offered.

Orella considered this, then nodded. "Ladies first, then."

---

After Hashmal's manifestation, Sylvan and the others had done what they could to fight him off. The battle had ended with Hinako using her abilities to bind Hashmal so Sylvan could deliver the final blow. Hinako had been left behind, drained from the strain her body had endured from the battle and over the course of the mission. Though wounded and drained of nearly all her power, Sylvan came stumbling into the room grasping the now dormant Leo auracite with Ivaan Arkwright at her side.

She sat on the ground to take a breather. She looked to the Leo auracite, wondering if Hashmal was truly dormant within - and wondering how she would even get rid of the thing. Meanwhile, Ivaan stood with one of Sylvan's arms slung over his shoulder, helping her down as they stopped for a quick rest.

"I just need a minute," she breathed. "Possibly a healer." Though she managed a chuckle, her breathing pained her; while she wasn't bleeding profusely, she bore visible wounds.

"Catch your breath, but we cannot stay long." Ivaan nodded, continuing to support her despite his words. "Let me know if that bleeding does not stop; we may have think of something else if not. I am afraid I have little in the way of first aid on me."

But of course they would not make it very far the longer she leaned on him. With a soft groan, she stood, and was pleased to find her own balance. "Right. We must meet with the others. Something is happening. The aether here is stirring."

"Even I can feel it now," Ivaan confirmed.

Sylvan Rain glanced upward, toward where the aether gathered. "Let's hurry to the top. We're almost there."

Before they could take a step forward, her linkpearl went off - bearing the sound of A'zaela's voice. She activated it without a second thought.

"I'm here! Ivaan and I are on the way up. Though I am... not one hundred percent."

"Where are you?" Ivaan added.

"We're ascending up from the Subterra." That was Nive's voice, somewhat staticky but still audible. "We found a sword that can destroy the auracite."

"Our four auracite have been shattered," said A'zaela. "A-And I don't know much, but we need to find Ashelia and shatter Ultima's stone."

"Tell Fawn we are sorry!" Alaq'it hoarsely whispered near A'zaela's linkpearl.

---

They stood in the center of a gray stone courtyard, an open level of the Ridorana Lighthouse devoid of Garleans. Around them on all sides stood the wreckage of other ancient dwellings; between them, Bull could look out at the sea and the horizon beyond. And yet the courtyard did not mark the end of their journey: at the northern end of the platform, a yalms-wide aetheric pillar beckoned them upwards.

For a moment, it was enough for him to lean against the railing and stare out at the fragments of sea in his view, and at the gaping cataract from which the lighthouse had earned its name. He had to fight to keep his panic from rising up, or to keep his nerves from sinking straight to the pit of his stomach. Every time he felt like he might lose it completely, he had only to turn around and find Timid Fawn where she stood off to the side, out of sight but not so far away. This was, he supposed, as good a place as any for them to reclaim their bearings, especially since Hinako and Linini had departed to do some extra patrols.

He listened in to the company linkpearl transmissions, fighting the tides of his anxiety all the while, until he heard Fawn's name mentioned. He put a finger to his own pearl, all thoughts of his surroundings gone at once. "Sorry about what?" he demanded.

"Fawn, if you can hear me," A'zaela wailed, "I'm REALLY SORRY."

Bull shook his head before realizing the others wouldn't be able to see the motion through the linkpearl. "Not important right now. We found somethin' at the top of the tower. That's the meeting point. Find your way up."

"Garleans are here in force," came Akhutai’s voice. "Everyone, watch yourselves."

Bull glanced over at Timid Fawn to see what she thought of this news, but she had made her way closer to the aetheric pillar in the midst of her pacing. She didn't even appear to be listening to the chatter on the linkpearl; instead, she stared upwards, her brow knit into a heavy scowl.

And then, after what felt like no more than a few minutes, the others arrived: first Sylvan Rain and Ivaan, the latter watching the former carefully and even supporting her steps with a steady hand. Then, somewhat to his surprise, Priscilla and Orella rounded the stairs, though Bull had thought they were supposed to be busy watching the Prima Vista's shuttle. Priscilla's rifle was drawn, and it shook slightly in her hand.

The first of them all to speak was Orella. "Rhalgr's low-sagging ballsack," she wheezed, doubling over from the exertion of climbing what could easily have been a hundred flights of stairs. "It's- sure been a while since I had to- do anything like that."

"Well," Bull chuckled. "You're all a sight for sore eyes."

Sylvan hurried over to them as fast as she could, presumably without exerting herself. "It's good to see you as well."

"How are you two faring?" Ivaan asked as Orella leaned against a nearby railing to breathe and cradle her arm.

"As well as ya can when everything's a pain in the arse." Bull shrugged, motioning to Fawn. "She's fine, I'm sure."

And Fawn, to his relief, nodded beside him.

Sylvan held out the Leo auracite for the group at large to survey. There came no hint of a glow from the stone; instead, the woman's eyes shone with unforeseen determination. "Hashmal manifested itself in order to overtake my will. We subdued it though. Let's destroy this damned thing."

Bull nodded in agreement. He pulled the Pisces stone from his own pocket, watching only for a moment as it glinted feebly. "This one's gotta go, too."

"Perhaps we can help with that.”

The voice was one Bull had not counted on hearing, at least not with his own ears: A'zaela's. He spun around to find all four of the missing Riskbreakers, each of them looking as though they had dragged themselves out of the seventh hell. Nivelth, grimacing, had strapped to her back an intricate greatsword much too big for her.

Relieved though he was to see them, Bull could only frown at A'zaela. "What did you find?"

Nive swung the sword around off of her back and planted it point-first into the marble tile, surveying all those assembled. "This can destroy the stones."

"Would you? Please," Sylvan quipped. "I'm tired of our friend Hashmal here. He plays a bit rough for even me."

Before anyone else could speak, Priscilla regained her breath enough to pose a new question. "Where's Ashe...?"

Bull shrugged. He still could scarcely explain to himself what had happened to her in the hall of the Sun-Cryst, let alone the rest of the company. "We were with her, then she got all... wingy, and disappeared."

Sylvan blinked. "Wingy?"

"...Wingy," said Orella blankly.

"Oh." Nive whispered. "Oh no."

"Yeah, y'know." At a loss for how else to explain all that had transpired, Bull made a butterfly with his hands. "Wingy."

Ivaan only sighed. "I think Ashelia may not be home anymore." He tapped a finger to his armored head to illustrate his point.

Akhutai huffed, seemingly in impatience, but Alaq'it whispered up to him. "What is a wingy?"

"It's Ultima," said A'zaela, her eyes wide. Then- "Shit. Shit! Ultima is... the High Seraph. The queen. She's..." She looked over to Nive. "We destroy the auracite first. Sever all our connections to them, then we move on her."

Nive nodded. "Agreed."

"Does that mean I'm going to have to fight my friend?" Sylvan mused.

A’zaela bit her lip. "...I-I hate to think it, but we might not be fighting Ashelia. We may be fighting Ultima."

"We need to get that stone from her," Bull said. "It's all eight of us against her. How hard could it be?"

"Hard," Alaq'it confirmed. "This has all been very hard."

"She's had a stone longer than any of us, Bull," Nive pointed out. "At this rate, she could be even more powerful than all of us combined."

Sylvan then did something Bull had never seen her do before, at least not to his knowledge: she cursed. "Fuck."

"...Indeed," Ivaan echoed.

Alaq'it squinted at Sylvan, mouthing out the syllable before shaking her head in confusion.

But Bull shook his head, in part to dislodge the doubts already beginning to take root in his mind. "She might be a goddess, or a queen, or whatever. I don't care. We have to do this."

"So you know that that sword can break the stones?" Priscilla confirmed, gesturing to Nive’s greatsword.

"Does anyone else here have a stone?" asked A'zaela of the group at large. "Sylvan, Bull?"

Orella shook her head first. "...The Lalafell - Linini - she has mine." She winced. "The stone. It's not mine."

But he and Sylvan held out their stones: he Pisces, she Leo. A'zaela took one and Nive the other, and Nive readied her greatsword for use.

"We destroyed four, in the basement," Alaq'it confirmed. "Or rather, Akhutai destroyed three, and then Nive and I destroyed a fourth, because the sword is very heavy." She pantomimed lifting half of the sword.

"Destroy this goddamned thing," said Sylvan.

"This one's a bit odd," said Bull, pointing at the Pisces stone with his free hand. He didn't know how else to describe the fact that it didn't seem to want to possess him, or even tempt him in any way. "But it's gotta go too."

Nive placed Sylvan's stone on the ground first, then took the sword down from her back. She swung it around, sending it whistling through the air to crack open the stone. The moment the blade touched its surface, the Leo stone exploded in a burst of heat and sound - and then it turned to sand, its shards crumbling into nothingness.

Bull flinched before he could help himself, covering his face out of instinct. "Damn! Were they all like that?!"

"Yes, yes, you're very scary," Nive muttered to the stone bits. To Bull, she nodded, then motioned for him to place his stone down as well. He did so without further hesitation.

"Wait..." Timid Fawn spoke for the first time since they all had gathered. "Didn't Linini mention one being taken...?" She looked to Bull for affirmation, and he nodded.

Nive swung the sword again, with much more ease than before. The Pisces stone dissolved into cool water across the floor. In the moments before its aether dissipated, Bull might have sworn he heard a voice - a voice he mistook only for a moment as Rosenheim's. The stone whispered "Thank you" - and then it was gone.

"You're welcome, strange man," he replied into the thin air.

The others all stood around, with all among them except Nive, A'zaela, Alaq'it and Akhutai sporting looks of varying confusion on their own faces. The first to move was Priscilla, who brought out a small journal and began scribbling notes.

Nivelth Ajuyn grimaced as the silence lengthened, until at last she saw fit to explain what had happened to them. "...We found four skeletons in the underground, all of which held stones before us. It's likely they were the previous holder of our stones."

"After this," A'zaela added, "we'll need to find the others. But now we find Ashelia, without the risk of the auracite taking over us."

"Maybe if we kill the head the body will die with it?" Bull mused, stroking his chin.

Nive nodded. "I'd like to destroy the stone Ultima's in."

Still staring into space, Orella at last spoke up again. "... Everyone." Her tone commanded attention, and the others all looked up. "I know no one wants to think about it. But if the worst comes to pass - which of us is most able to kill her?"

Silence reigned again. Orella made an awkward gesture which Bull could not immediately interpret, then continued her point. "Not Ultima. If the worst happens, if Ashelia needs to..."

The others shuffled around for a bit - most notably Akhutai, though that might have been due to his relative conspicuousness amongst the much shorter women in his company. Then, several mouths opened at once - but it was A'zaela who spoke first. "...Me."

Orella nodded. Alaq'it merely sighed. Priscilla, tearing up, began scribbling in her notebook even faster.

"Ideally it ain't gonna come to that," said Bull.

"Ideally, no," Orella agreed. "But we must be prepared for the worst."

"I won't let you do it alone," said Sylvan. "You and I are among those who have been with her the longest."

Akhutai grunted. "It won't come to that, but one must always plan contingencies."

"It is a real possibility," argued Ivaan. "Obviously not one we want to think about, but we must be prepared."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, if need be. Not like she's just gonna let you do it."

"...I always think of the worst-case scenario. My mind won't let me do anything else." A'zaela sighed. "But you're right. I'd rather die myself than let Ashelia go. I hope Ultima's prepared for us."

Alaq'it began fiddling with her star globe. "I think if we all put our heads together-" Her gaze swept over the others, lingering noticeably on those whose heads towered over hers. "-we will figure out how to do this with the least amount of permanent damage."

Bull nodded. "Regardless, Ashe is still in there. We just gotta beat whatever else is in there out."

"...Though if this goes off without a hitch," said Ivaan, "perhaps we will not tell her of who was picked to kill her."

This comment elicited some few chuckles, from Orella first and foremost. Alaq'it said, "Yes. One idea."

Bull smirked. "I'll tell her it was Orella. She'll like that."

Orella only offered up a shrug, and a quiet "Sure." After a moment of thought- "Ashelia knows what I'm capable of."

"Now," said Sylvan, "we just have to find her."

Priscilla finished her writing with a final flourish and began to ready the gun at her hip. Ivaan turned, looking over his shoulder at the pillar of light behind them all - the beacon that would carry them to where the Seraph undoubtedly lay in wait.

"Before we go," Nive asked, "are there any other stones that need to be destroyed?"

Bull shook his head, but Orella spoke up. "Unless you came across Linini. Both mine and hers remain."

With that, Nive returned the sword to her back and made to ready her grimoire.

Orella Steelhand winced as she steps forward to look at the pillar of light. Following her gaze, Bull mused, "I guess there's only one way to go."

"Always something glowing," Sylv muttered under her breath.

Bull nudged his former mentor with his elbow. "Beats the stairs though huh?"

"Could be worse." Sylv paused for a moment. "I'm definitely going to regret saying that."

Akhutai snorted. "I've learned to do my best to never say it."

The others fell into silence, staring upward at their destination. Then it occurred to him that they were waiting for his cue. "Well," he said, his voice much more decisive and certain than he felt, "let's get to it!"

With a running start, he leaped into the pillar of light and was thrown upward toward where their strongest foe yet lay in wait.

[novaeagle]

Realm Travel

Note: A quick little story I did about Casimir exploding on the Scions and the Exarch about the different opinions they have for getting everyone safely back to the source.

Contains cursing, mild violence and threats.

————————————————————

They were arguing again, the Scions and the Exarch, about how to get home. With White Aura cite, and souls, and... death. I was tired of hearing that. “The Only Way” without any real proof that it would actually work. What if it didn’t? Now G’Raha is dead and my friends are still stuck here while their bodies rot away in the source and the gods knows WHAT happens when they finally stop living in the source. I could loose all my friends based on the actions of one.

I sigh, sitting on one of the steps to the portal just behind G’Raha as he and the Scions bickered. My plain white shirt seemed to glow in the eerie blue light of the tower, contrasting the black Strife pants I wore and that fact currently distracted me, picking at the legs as a few white tufts of cotton stuck to them. The argument kept getting louder and more heated, Y’Shtola and Urianger spouting out big words about Aether and souls and G’Raha insisting it was his death that would send them back to the Source. Finally their voices got through to me, and I reached back Aether flashing over my body as I drew my giant broadsword, slamming it into the ground of the tower in a burst of Void Power, the screech and rush of void silencing their arguments,

“ENOUGH!” I roar, making everyone jump. I draw my sword and replace it on my back, my Sabatons thump on crystal as I stomp over to G’Raha, grabbing the front of his shirt and lifting him up to my eye level. “The next time I hear you insist on killing yourself and you can’t show me physical proof of your claims I’m going to find a way to re-kick start the flood.” G’Rahas eyes are wide in shock as I set him back down, and Alisaie steps forward,

“Casimir-...”

“I’m not done!” She glares at me as I snap at her, but backs down, stepping back beside her brother and Ryne. Letting go of G’Raha, I step in front of the Scions, pointing an accusing finger at them, “You’re the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, you’re the one who are the experts on Crystals and Primal summonings and white auracite and all this other aethernomical science. Hell, Y’Shtola throws herself into the Aether current for FUN nowadays!” She opens her mouth, and I snap my finger over to her, waiting for her to speak. She wisely keeps silent, and I turn to G’Raha, “And YOU, you’re the gods damned Crystal Exarch. You control this Tower and command its strengths, and yet you still don’t know a quarter of what this thing can do or what info it holds. IT SHOULDN’T BE THIS HARD A PROBLEM TO FIGURE OUT!” I shout the end at both groups, turning away and pounding a fist into my thigh in frustration. “GAH! FUCK!” I take a deep breath, taking a few seconds to calm down before taking off my helmet and turning back to the group. “I’m well aware it’s a complicated problem, but we have everything we need to setup a simple test to see if the white Auracite works. If I have to, I’ll go find a monster to claim, put its aether into the white Auracite and take it back with me to put into a dead monster back in the source. But NO ONE,” my breath hitches and I clench my fists, “no one is FUCKING dying. I won’t have any more Haurchefaunts, no more Papalymos, no more Tesleens, or Ardberts, I’m tired of people dying for me....” I see Alisaies eyes brim over with tears as I turn away again, hiding the few of my own that escaped.

“Y-you’re right...” I turn around to see G’Rahas ears flattened in shame, looking like he did when I rescued him from Hades, “I’m being selfish... and I shouldn’t be. I don’t-... I don’t really know if it will work, but it was what I was hoping.” His eyes gain a bit of steel, and he straightens his back, his ears flicking forward, “But I promise you, I will return everyone safely back to the source. I will do everything in my power to ensure that, but... if... if we find there is no other way...”

“G’Raha.” He stops, his mouth stuck open in shock, “That option is off the table. Not even as a last resort. No more sacrifices.” Alisaie meets my eyes,

“What if there’s no other way?”

“There’s ALWAYS a way-“

“Not with Tesleen.” I sigh sadly, absentmindedly wiping away a tear as I answer softly,

“I’m trying to end those kind of situations...” Y’Shtola steps forward,

“Look, Casimir-“ I interrupt her, stepping forward and drawing my sword again to point it at her,

“If you’re gonna tell me the same thing I’m answering in steel.” The tension in the room skyrockets, and Thancred slowly reaches back for his own gunblade.

“You... might have solved... part of the problem...” I slowly lower my sword, and she continues on, “We need a test subject, something to let us know if this soul transfer will work. You killing a monster in the Source, then stealing a similar monsters soul here could very well be the test that we desperately need.” I sheathe my sword, and look around,

“Any objections?” No one meets my eyes but Urianger and Y’Shtola, so I nod, “Lets get to work. We don’t have much time.”

[0bsidian5ire]

Prompt #27: Occultation Observation

Prompt: Palaver from @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast's #ffxivwrite2019

Set after Seryu's Wall (4.5)

"Well, that was an experience," Asuna uncorked a bottle of sake and took a draft of it. He didn't even bother pouring it into a cup. "Go out into the middle of nowhere to check on an energy field. Find out your enemy you thought definitely died when the Ultima weapon was destroyed has been fighting your battles for you in places you can't easily get too." He shook his head. "Who would have thought?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, this isn't the first time Gaius has decided he'd much rather the world keep on existing." J'attanno scowled. "It's right in line with him not liking the idea of Black Rose or bringing Dalamud down. I can't tell if actually doesn't like them just on principle or because he wouldn't get to properly conquer any of the places they would have effected."

"It's at least partially based on principle. I think." Eyrikoel looked pensive. He had known Gaius the longest of anyone here. "He wasn't lying about being angry that Lahabrea used him to kill his own men at least. And what he's done with that anger... I don't think any of us are complaining with the results."

"I certainly am not." Nhagi'a flicked an ear. "We've never seen anyone else go after Ascians that way have we?"

"No," said Kharagal, "and with good reason. No one we know has even figured out how to force Ascians out of hiding." She scowled across the table at J'attano. "And if some of us hadn't been so skittish when we ran into him, I could have asked Gaius how he was not only finding the Ascians, but killing them!"

J'attano blinked at her. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Uggg..." Kharagal buried her hands in her head in exasperation. "Whenever we've killed Ascian Overlords before we've always needed two things. An Auracite to keep them contained and a truly ridiculous amount of aether even for us to to banish their souls out of their bodies and into the Lifestream. And now we have a Garlean, who most likey has access to neither of those things, killing two Ascian Overlords. Sorry if I'm annoyed I never got the chance to ask him how he's doing that."

"Killing Ascian Overlords is not even the weirdest thing he has done," Kukunji scratched his head. "At least we know killing Ascians is possible to do. I have yet to imagine a way he could have survived Ultima with only his armor and the shell of the Ultima Weapon as protection. In case any of you forgot, we only survived due to Hydaelyn's interference and that cost her dearly."

That silenced everyone. Except Himalgeim. "Is is just me, or is Gaius a worse threat to us then Zenos was?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Avila frowned. She was mostly better now, but what Zenos said about the Warriors of Light's motivations had gotten to her.

"Zenos was bonkers crazy," said Himalgeim. "As hard as he was for us to defeat, what he said wasn't worth listening too and he had the brilliant idea of taking over something that was have a lot of experience fighting. Giaus..."

"Giaus actually does pay attention to what's going on," Carmen finished. "We don' like what he does about that, but it's rather hard not to say he was seeing something that wasn' there when we end up fixin' most o' what he had problems with once the Ultima Weapon was defeated."

"Which is more then can be said for the other high-ranking Garleans we've run into," Himalgeim returned. "Gaius is worth listening to in a way the the other high-ranked Garleans we've run into aren't."

"Which is why we even listened to him earlier today." Osric snorted. "I have to say, he is annoying good at sounding reasonable when he want to be."

"Sounds reasonable compared to all the other Garleans we've run into... Is a monster on the battlefield in his own right if he can hold his own against Ascians..." Alex nodded to himself. "That is a very dangerous combination. I hope he makes the best of it though. We have no feasible way of getting into Ilsabard, but Gaius is familiar with it. And he knows what to look for." He looked at everyone around the table. "We really could do a lot worse when it comes to flushing the Ascians out of Ilsabard."

"And as far as I'm concerned, that's the only reason I let him go." J'attano huffed in annoyance. "I'll never forgive him for Ala Mhigo, but Destroyer take him, he actually went and did something that benefits us."

"Funny how that works isn't it," said Erin. "Sometimes people get some sense knocked into them and actually try to change for the better." She finished off the bottle of the carbonated drink she called "soda". "And if we're going to start going in circles about what deeds people should and shouldn't be forgiven for, then I easily beat him out by a mile in the "countries I helped conquer" category." She slammed the bottle down on the table and stalked out of the room in a huff.

J'attano winced and shrank into her seat. Around her, small talk resumed. Erin had rather strong opinions about giving people the chance to redeem themselves if they were trying to be better then they had been before.

Author's Notes: This word prompt certainly fits Gaius all too well!

An occultation is when an object comes between an observer and another obejct and hides that object from view. Usually used in conjuction with eclipses. Which don't have anything to do with shadows at all... ;-)

[crimson-bull]

Reasons Wretched and Divine

Before the party makes to board the shuttle, Malla takes A'zaela Linh aside. A'zaela is instantly uncomfortable.

Malla Velius: "Alaq'it has the Scorpio stone. Have you noticed anything unusual?"

Malla Velius: "Or is... this... how she behaves?"

A'zaela turns and stares at Alaq'it, as if she's trying to gauge her behavior.

A'zaela Linh: "I suppose your definition of strange may be different than ours. If you mean strange vocabulary and a bit of hyperactivity, that's entirely normal, yes."

Malla Velius: "I mean speaking in tongues and referring to herself in grandiose terms."

Malla Velius makes a straight face at A'zaela Linh.

A'zaela Linh returns the stare. Something about Malla puts her -- or her stone? -- on edge. "If she acts worse for wear on the mission, I will send her home. I've almost watched her die once. I will not let anything like it happen again."

Fawn, as always, is keeping to herself. She keeps glancing to each party member simply to check up on them.

Alaq'it is keeping a back to the wall, back from the group.

Malla Velius: "Good. The shuttle's almost ready; we can depart whenever you're prepared."

Malla Velius hasn't spoken with Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn since the night Grissom died, but she makes a point to engage with him before they leave.

As Malla moves, Alaq'it slinks behind A'zaela, gripping her belt gently.

Malla Velius: "Is there anything else you need?”

Fawn gives the giant bag by her left a nudge with her foot. "Good to go here."

Ashelia Riot nods to Timid Fawn.

A'zaela Linh: "How are you faring?" A'z asks Alaq'it, hopefully quiet enough so Malla does not hear.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn Bull shakes his head, "Nothin' that you could really provide me with. I'm ready to go."

Malla Velius nods again. "Then we'd best be off."

Alaq'it simply returns a smile to A'z, keeping the taller girl between her and Malla.

Fawn hoists the bag up from the ground, letting it hang from her shoulder. "Mhm. Let's."

Malla Velius: "I will warn you that Lady Fran is rather direct."

Malla says this in an almost /admiring/ tone.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "So she ain't much different than you."

Malla Velius: "...More so than me."

With that, she flies the party into Rabanastran airspace.

A'zaela Linh: "...you're doing better, Bull?"

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "I had a lot of time to think. I guess 'better' is a good way to say it, yeah."

A'zaela Linh nods once, her face surprisingly neutral. Weeks ago, there might have been worry, empathy, even a bit of fear on her face. But now, there was simply nothing, as if she were trained to keep all emotion off her face. "I'm glad to hear it. Truly." We'll need your voice for this mission today. I'm glad to have you here." Her eyes train on Fawn. "All of you."

Fawn watches A'zaela and Alaq'it. With the lack of knowing them for less than a few weeks, she cannot  decipher if there is anything truly odd about them... At least with any subtle displays. "Of course." She directs to A'zaela.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Can't say I'm lookin' forward to playin' diplomat, but ya gotta do what ya gotta do."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn shrugs at A'zaela Linh.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "...as long as these people don't try to fight me, I think I'll do fine." he flashes a thumbs up.

Timid Fawn: "Let's hope not..."

Only Alaq'it went into the sewers the previous time, and it seems remarkably different to her: the atmosphere, while still ominous, does not contain the air of a place that is about to explode at any second.

Alaq'it is hanging back from the group enough so that she keeps everyone in her sight. Rhotfarr's comment about the Resistence fighting them has only fueled her quiet paranoia.

The Garamsythe Waterway is centuries old - and this time, Bull sees evidence of the ages past. He sees etching from times long ago, and though he cannot read their words, he can tell that they were carved to record dwindling water reserves as part of a final effort for survival. So too does he see evidence of current use - and current hardships. As he turns, he sees a young girl, no more than eight years old, but she meets his eye for no more than a moment before fleeing into the shadows.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "It's always a damn shame when people gotta hide in their own home like this." he shakes his head, "Havin' to resort to livin' like rats because of somethin' so petty like power. Makes me sick." his face twists into a frown.

Fawn tries to figure what he says, or saw, rather. But she doesn't see a damn thing. "Are you spottin' somethin' we aren't, er...?"

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Yeah, there was a girl there. Only got a glance before she ran off."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn seems lost in thought.

Fawn tries to follow his gaze, or at least where it was.

A'zaela's eyes widen. "There are people...living here?" She frowns, now glancing all around her.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Unless kids are just playin' games in the sewers of an occupied city, I'd assume so."

Timid Fawn: "Both are believable to me, honestly." Her head slowly weaves and bobs as she's surveying the area herself even if there is no evidence for her to spy upon.

The party comes to a point in the tunnel that opens to a wide, sprawling view of the sewer system - the place where Malla had hinted a member of the Resistance would be waiting for you. She stands as though she has nothing else to do, her gaze calm. She is a Viera woman - and given her ears, she seems to have sensed your presence well in advance.

Fran: "Well met, Riskbreakers,"

A'zaela Linh: "Well met,"

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "See? What'd I tell ya? Not playin' around." he nudges Fawn.

Fawn feels an utter sense of... dread? Upon seeing Fran. Her gazed is averted but she gives a grunt in acknowledgement...

Fran casts them all - but mostly Bull - a very /intense/ look. It isn't inherently unfriendly, but you aren't certain what to make of it, either. "I understand you've come with questions for the Resistance. I cannot say I blame you."

Most of Alaq'it's face stays as it has been, but at the sight of Fran's extremely large ears, her mouth twitches almost imperceptibly into a smile. The effect is very short-lived.

A'zaela nods once, flipping through all of the things she could possibly even think to ask. She starts strong: "What can you tell us of Grissom? I was under the impression that he was a long standing member of the Resistance. Yet we've no idea why he turned coats and stole the auracite. Any information you have could be valuable."

Alaq'it Moks: "Yes, perhaps you know why he let his head get away from him."

Fran: "Grissom." Her face darkens visibly at the name. "I cannot say I know of everything that came to pass... but he coordinated with Lente's Tears - my faction of the Dalmascan resistance - for several years."

A'zaela Linh "And?" she asks, eyes sparkling from the new information. "Was there anything to foreshadow his dissent? A tie to the empire, a trigger -- anything?"

Fran places a hand upon her chin in a gesture of thought, "There were signs, in truth. All of them recognized in hindsight. He came to Rabanastre from Lea Monde, along with his brother - but at that time, there had been no resistance activity from the region in the better part of a year. My sisters in the Golmore Jungle said as much.That was... seven years ago."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Talk about a slow burn...what did he do for y'all?"

Fran: "He was a swordsman, his brother a thaumaturge. But of the two, Grissom was the strategist." Fran stares off into the distance, as though she has just realized something. "...And when he suggested we give the Virgo stone to Ashelia Riot as a token of goodwill, none of us in Lente's Tears thought better of it."

Alaq'it Moks: "Brother?" Her voice feels almost like a croak from speaking out of impulse; she swallows hard.

Fawn finally decides to chime in, recalling /some/ of the conversation from the infirmary. "...Do you and yours have any stones in your possession now?"

Fran turns to Alaq'it Moks. "Duane. He died in the Barheim Incident." She nods her head in a different direction - the direction which Alaq'it may or may not recognize as being the way toward the Barheim Passage. Alaq'it does not look away from Fran or acknowledge the Passage.

Fran: "No. At the time of your Grand Steward's first contact with Malla, we had only four stones in our possession: Virgo, Leo, Sagittarius, and Cancer. Grissom made away with them all."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn seems lost in thought.

A'zaela's eyes narrow. "Surely you knew the dangers of handing auracite to strangers."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Those were the only four you had? We found the Taurus stone on his person...where would he have gotten that?"

Fran: "The stones responded to none of us - not even our leader. Or so we believed. Now we suspect Grissom may have been carrying more all along. Though where he found those... it is impossible to say."

Timid Fawn: "What about the one A'zaela picked up in the clearing? What was that one?" She looks between Bull and A'zaela.

Timid Fawn seems lost in thought.

Fran's eyes move back and forth between the four of them as she realizes that they have stones with them.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn shrugs.

A'zaela Linh: "I am uncertain. I ended up giving mine to Ashelia."

Fran: "I thought we had agreed to meet in good faith, Riskbreaker. Or so Malla said."

At the words "in good faith", Alaq'it feels her pulse pick up.

A'zaela Linh: "The same good faith that you handed the Virgo stone to Ashelia Riot?" A'zaela asks, her tone flat. The stone pulses hot on her chest, and she winces and grabs at the hidden necklace around her throat.

Fran tenses, as though readying herself for an explosion.

Bull’s face turns stern, eyes shifting back and forth between A'zaela and Fran, "Please don't do this, we can't afford it. Any of us."

Fran: "As I said: a suggestion from an ally of many years. Neither I nor the leader of Lente's Tears would have-"

Alaq'it is now looking from Fran to A'zaela. Her head movements are slow and controlled, but her eyes are wide, cornered prey. Rhotfarr's words register dimly.

A'zaela's stone is a bright purple, exposing it for what it is; the Sagittarius auracite. She breaks out in a cold sweat and the metal becomes hotter in her hands, burning her.

A'zaela Linh: "I-I'm sorry, I--" she lets out a painful shriek and rips it from her neck, letting it clatter loudly to the ground.

Alaq'it's rising panic is slightly calmed by A'zaela's injury. "A'zaela. Your hands." She ignores the stone, reaching for A'zaela's hands to heal. Instead of healing, the burn seems to be turning slightly green.

Timid Fawn is visibly alert at this point, glaring at the stone. She turns her attention to A'zaela. "Are you alright?"

Fran is staring at the stone, still not moving from her defensive position.

A'zaela’s entire body shakes. "She--she's angry. I-I don't know--she's mad at me for not lying well enough. She wants Ashelia, she wants me back, b-but she hurt me, and -- OW!!"

Alaq'it Moks: "The healing... did not take," Alaq'it explains to Fawn, without taking her eyes of A'z.

A'zaela Linh stares at Fran, still truly trusting Alaq'it to heal her. She can't control aether -- she doesn't know what's going wrong with the healing. "I-I'm sorry, Fran. I...please. Bull. Keep asking questions. I-I don't want to ruin this, I..."

Alaq'it kneels by A'zaela and attempts to invoke a stronger Arcana. This time, the skin seems to be mending. Fawn shadows over the both of them just in case if things go awry with the mending.

Fran bends gracefully, picking up the Sagittarius stone by the chain.

Bull kneels next to A'zaela, "The stones are nothin' but trouble," he looks up toward Fran, "And will kill us all if we don't find a way to deal with them."

Fran: "It would seem so."

A'zaela flinches away when Fran touches the Auracite, as if something is about to strike her. She shivers as she feels eyes on her back, as though Shemhazai is glaring at her.

Fran stares for a moment into the stone's purple facets. Briefly, it's as if she can see something, and there's a flash - or maybe just a glimmer. But then the moment passes, and Fran hands the stone out to the two Roegadyn for one of them to take.

Timid Fawn: "Please, try to keep your wits about you... Breath slow and deep." She gingerly places a hand on A'zaela's shoulder. She doesn't quite understand what's ailing her, but she sees the physical symptoms.

Alaq'it stares at the stone hanging from Fran's fingers. "A'zaela, she is yours."

Bull puts his hands up, "I've had my fill of these damn things." he motions to Fawn, "She'd be the one to trust with it."

Fawn holds out her hands. "Never trusted the damned things to begin with..." She shoves the stone into her pocket without a second thought.

Fran gives a very cautious glance at Alaq'it, then places the stone in Fawn's hands.

A'zaela calms down for a moment upon hearing Alaq'it speak. It's...a sudden clarity. She knows what needs to be done.

Alaq'it grips A'zaela's shoulder tightly, and leans toward a tall ear for one more whisper, meant only for A'z. "Yours."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "If only we could just...y'know. Dispose of them."

Timid Fawn: "Cast them to a volcano I say..."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Keep that safe until we can secure it somewhere it won't hurt anyone."

A'zaela takes a moment. She listens to Alaq'it. Then she looks at Fran, "Miss. What can you tell us about Ashelia? Not our Ashelia. There is another. Was another. Will be another? My Ashelia said something about it, but it...it didn't make any sense."

For the first time, Fran's eyes widen in surprise.

Fran: "...Malla must have told you of her. I will say no more. Should you be captured, should you or your stone fall into imperial hands, there is no telling who may come upon that information. Therefore, I will say nothing of the Princess."

A'zaela Linh: "What? No, I..." A'zaela rubs a hand over her eye. "I fear that the Virgo stone is taking her over. The Virgo and Sagittarius stone -- they plot together. While we were speaking...she had a vision. A vision of another Ashelia..."

Alaq'it Moks: "So, there IS another. Now." Alaq'it pats A'zaela's head as she stands.

Bull tilts his head at Alaq'it Moks, she's been acting...strange, stranger than usual.

A'zaela looks at Fawn. "It's why she's so angry. She knows I will protect Ashelia with my life." She looks at Fran, clearly upset, but understanding. "Of course. I'm...I'm sorry I let it happen this way."

Fran shakes her head, her hair swishing across her shoulders. "Of what visions the stone may have given your leader, I know nothing - only that, in legends, the stones have made prophets and saints of mortals ...I am sorry."

Bull scoffs, "These legends are just that, legends - too good to be true."

Fran gives a smirk - though not necessarily an unkind one.

A'zaela stares at Fawn again -- at the pocket she put the auracite away in. "Perhaps we should all start putting a bit more stock in legends."

Fran: "They certainly served Grissom well."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "So well that he became more machine than man then got his head cut off. Yeah, REAL well."

Fran: "Hm?"

Fawn keeps an eye on A'zaela, uncertain of her potential desire to retrieve the stone back or not. "He was off when we found him. Metal legs... Metal voice. Weird." She says to Fran. "Was he like that when he joined?"

Fran: "No. He was Hyuran."

Timid Fawn: "No fixed limbs or anything? None of that?" Fawn isn't that great at words but she's trying.

Fran: "No." She seems certain of it, after having known and fought alongside the man for seven years.

Timid Fawn seems lost in thought.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Even up to the point he took the auracite and fled, fully himself at that time?"

Fran: "...He was gone for stretches at a time, but I would certainly have noticed if he had become what you describe."

A'zaela Linh: "That means from the time he deserted and the time we found him, he was turned into a metal shell of what he once was. He still bled, but...he was..."

Timid Fawn: "Do we have a timeframe of that?" She asks no one in particular.

A'zaela Linh: "No. I don't know. Malla might."

Timid Fawn: "Fair. I might ask her on our return." She nods.

A'zaela Linh: "At least...we know that having so many around us is incredibly dangerous. Do you know of a way to destroy them, Miss?" For some reason, she can't bring herself to say's Fran's name, like she doesn't deserve it after what Shemhazai made her say.

Fran: "I do not. But I will consult with my people - and determine if a solution may lie in myth."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "A legend to destroy another legend, how fittin'." he chuckles at the thought.

Fran: "Precisely."

A'zaela finally stands. She's run out of questions, but she looks around at everyone else who might have one. Her gaze lingers on Alaq'it. Thinking. Knowing.

Alaq'it meets her stare. "You are well?"

A'zaela Linh only nods.

Timid Fawn shifts her gaze briefly in Fran's direction, but not /on/ her. "...Do you have any questions for us, Fran?"

Fran purses her lips. "You say that you have found more stones. How many do you have?"

Fawn squints for a moment, holding up both hands to count on each finger. At least she's trying to remember them all.

A'zaela Linh looks at Fawn, then Bull. "Was it...ten? So many numbers flew around the last time it was brought up..."

Alaq'it Moks: "More than he left the Resistance with." Alaq'it moves her stare back to Fran.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Ten by last count, yeah." he nods firmly.

Timid Fawn: "I know someone made mention that two were missing..."

Fran: "And your Grand Steward. You say the stone has spoken to her?"

Fawn looks to A'zaela to answer that one.

A'zaela pauses, her chin quivering for a moment, almost scared to say anything more about Ashelia out loud. "She's..."

Bull gives A'zaela a stern look, "She's what? This is important, if you know anythin', it'd be best to tell us."

A'zaela Linh swallows. "Let's just say we need to get the stone away from her."

Fran nods. "I will remain in contact with Malla, in that case."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Might be best we get the stones away from everyone who's got one, honestly. Causin' quite a pain."

Fran: "I must take my leave. Be well. All of you."

Timid Fawn: "Take care." She bids farewell to Fran with a small wave.

A'zaela does not say goodbye. She doesn't want to say anything. She's a mixture of ashamed and embarrassed, making her jaw lock.

Fran inclines her head to Fawn and departs.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "I think she likes you." he nudges Fawn, giving a laugh.

Fawn's face turned a deep shade of red. "Sssh." She avoids everyone's gaze.

Alaq'it Moks: "I do not think... I do not think that is wise until we know a way to destroy them." She says this after giving a halfhearted wave to Fran, before turning to put the others in her view. She tilts her head at Fawn a bit after Rhotfarr's comment.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "I think that it'd be a lot easier if we did, they've been no help to us. None at all."

Alaq'it moves to check A'zaela's hand as she responds. "You are not wrong, but you saw what they did to Grissom, gathered in one place."

Timid Fawn clears her throat. "Right... We'll have to keep tight communications in the hopes of knowing how."

Alaq'it Moks: "If we keep them separate until we know how to destroy them, it will minimize such a thing happening again."

Alaq'it Moks: "Yes... and he did say she likes you."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Keep 'em separate, but secure them apart from each other. Out of people's hands."

A'zaela lets her hand be taken, but she is wary now. Yet...she still trusts Alaq'it, and does not let her hestation show.

Timid Fawn: "...As much as I enjoy playing in smelly sewers, I think that's all we can do here for now."

Alaq'it Moks drops A'zaela's hand and nods to Fawn. "I will... I think it is called 'taking point'." She scurries ahead at this point.

A'zaela Linh lets Alaq'it run off, but stops both Bull and Fawn, speaking quietly. "Alaq'it has a stone. A dangerous one, I think."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "All the more reason to take it from her."

Timid Fawn: "Exactly."

A'zaela Linh: "I agree. But...do not talk about it around her. She..." she holds out her hand. It's still slightly green, "If it's anything like mine, she's a ticking time bomb. Let me handle her. Please."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "That stone's gonna make her erratic, and erratic means dangerous. I hope you know what you're doin'."

A'zaela Linh: "...I do. I made a promise to myself a long time ago. I won't let anything happen to her."

Timid Fawn leans in to examine A’zaela’s hand, her face scrunching in disgust. "That's... Let me clean that up." She goes for the pack straped to her belt, pulling out a few square gauze and a bottle of what appears to be alcohol.

A'zaela flinches back a little, but lets her hand be taken. The Sagittarius stone...it was too close. But Fawn was right-- it needed to be cleaned. "...Thank you...I watched Alaq'it almost die once. Right after Sylvan...'died'. I almost lost two that day. It won't happen again. Ever. I'll rip that stone from everyone's hands, if I need to. I swear it." Tears spring to her eyes--not from the alcohol, but she hopes it seems that way.

Timid Fawn: "Anytime... It ain't lookin' pretty right now, but let's hope this helps." She opens the bottle and pour a fair amount of the clear liquid over the wounds. "If you need back up, we are only a call away. You know that, right?"

A'zaela Linh: "I do. I won't hesitate to ask. I promise. And...I'm sorry. I messed up today. I didn't mean to ruin this for all of us..."

Timid Fawn wraps up A'zaela's hands as neatly as she can in bandages. "I feel this little meetin' went okay." She smiles reassuringly.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: Bull puts a hand on A'zaela's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, "We all screw up sometimes, what's important is we learn from it and be better from it." he gives her a smile and a thumbs up.

Timid Fawn: "Exactly. It's already happened. No point in dwellin' on it." She gives the bandages a little tug to test their tautness before letting the Miqo'te's hands go.

A'zaela Linh nods, giving a small smile. Then she gestures toward where Alaq'it ran off. "Thank you. I'll....thank you."

A'zaela Linh: "...We should probably find her before she gets lost."

[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.

[livvyplaysfinalfantasy]

Please remind me to never again go solo into a recorded alliance run on the last week before a new expansion, because this run was rough. Fortunately, we didn’t wipe! But that nearly total party KO at the very very very end pretty much summarized my feelings.

The Orbonne Monastery might be one of my favorite dungeons in this entire game so far. I say this with every hint of bias: not only does so much of Orbonne speak to everything I love, it also has so many great memories from running it with friends. My first time going through Orbonne in particular was great, because I did it with @barbariccia​ and I was screaming at the turn of every corner. Tears were shed. It was incredible.

So here’s a run-down:

0:50 - Harpies in the jungle! This enemy design was lifted straight from Vagrant Story, and I let every team I ran with know this for the next five weeks. Please play Vagrant Story.

2:20 - Ivalice confirmed for the gays.

2:55 - Inside the monastery, the first boss battle is Mustadio Bunansa. Mustadio, one of the first machinists of the Final Fantasy series, has been transformed into an automaton not unlike those he researches. His fight has a lot of tricky AOEs and quick-loading mechanics, not unlike the moveset of machinists in Tactics! He has a really cool ultimate at 5:00. (After weeks of trying to figure out how to explain this mechanic to newcomers while shot-calling, I eventually resorted to just saying “expose your hole.” 1. It works. 2. No one ever forgets it.)

When defeated at 12:18, Mustadio fades back into his Hyuran form - and even his voice goes from mechanical back to normal. It’s a subtle detail but really, really touching. There’s no indication for who the massive portrait on the wall leading into the monastery might depict... but with absolutely nothing to base this speculation on, my guess is that it’s Ajora Glabados.

At 12:40, you head into the wine cellars - another holdover from Vagrant Story. I didn’t catch it in this video, but the first people to follow Fran and Montblanc into the cellar will see three rats running across stagnant water in a way that can only be a throwback to Vaan’s intro in the Garamsythe Waterway. It was around this part during my first run of Orbonne that I told Molly, and the other Riskbreakers over voice chat, that I was going to lose it if the next boss was Agrias. Sure enough, the next boss was Agrias; sure enough, I lost it.

Agrias’ fight starts at 13:12. Her voice acting is so good; the lesbian paladin aesthetic in her boss design is to die for. (I mean, the Enhancing Sword and the Ritter Shield play a key role throughout this fight, and they’re the most WLW weapons in the game.) Some other great references find plugs in this fight, too: one of Agrias’ many moves, at 15:58, is Northswain’s Strike - Ashelia B’nargin Dalmasca’s ultimate Quickening! But what really hits me, every time, is her dialogue when you defeat her (see 22:30): “My Ovelia awaits...” Agrias was the princess Ovelia’s protector and best friend in Tactics; in the PSP remaster, she was also the one who gave Ovelia the dagger that later killed her.

The next area at 22:58 looks like it was taken out of the Palace of the Dead - which is funny, because when the Palace of the Dead’s final room was first revealed back at Fan Fest 2016, everyone I knew who was into Ivalice was like “VAGRANT STORY?!” And Palace of the Dead was based on Matsuno’s Ivalice predecessor Tactics Ogre. That said, a recurring concept in Ivalice games is that of the “necrohol” - a city lost to the dead. This necrohol is Mullonde, which got its origins in Tactics as a city which was destroyed when Ajora Glabados was hung for heresy. Like in XIV, Tactics’ Mullonde lay hidden deep beneath the Orbonne Monastery.

At 23:25, you fight four automatons. The last of them is Dark Crusader, a Vagrant Story boss. In Vagrant Story, the Dark Crusader was summoned by the knight Grissom, despite losing his life and his soul being trapped inside his decaying body. (Please play Vagrant Story.)

There’s only one remaining option for the third boss of Orbonne at 26:26, confirmed as soon as Montblanc makes a quip mistaking the man ahead for Cid: Count Cidolfus Orlandeau, the Thunder God. “T.G. Cid” is a game-breaker in Tactics; he’s so overpowered as to be capable of soloing certain late-game maps. Similarly, Orlandeau was (is) the raid-killer. A lot of the mechanics in his fight require consistent coordination throughout the entire alliance.

Somewhat strangely, the music that plays during Cid’s fight isn’t from Tactics at all: it’s the final boss music from Vagrant Story! It’s a bit of a strange choice thematically: although the circumstances of Cid’s (and Mustadio’s and Agrias’) transformation aren’t ever fully brought to light, it’s hard to think that he would have stooped to the same lengths of greed and power-hunger and detached cruelty as Vagrant Story’s final boss.

Though I did just realize that this fight, like Vagrant Story’s final boss fight, involves lots of running around the edges of a circular platform. And, you know, lots of praying.

Anyway, please play Vagrant Story.

At 38:00, you finally enter the High Seraph’s prison. She’s creating auracite stones one by one, casting them to the floor. She suggests that you have come seeking her power but says to take the auracite and leave - that “mortal agency in matters divine shall not be suffered.” That concept is the direct opposite of XII’s plot, in which the villains are seeking to overthrow a godlike power on the course of history!

Throughout this fight, Ultima summons three of the Espers you’ve fought before: Famfrit, Hashmal and Belias. Before she can obliterate you and your party, however, the three guardians of Orbonne - Mustadio, Agrias and Cid - appear to shield you. Ultima reveals her final form and readies to smash the barrier, only for Ramza Beoulve to emerge from the aether to lend his own soul to your defense. I yelled the first three times I saw that, I’m not even going to lie. The next phase of the fight gets even harder - though I should say that the brutal tankbusters make it one of my favorite fights to tank. Minions bearing Ultima’s Tactics appearance show up in this fight, too, usually to deliver powerful AOEs.

Ultima’s dying words: “I am your mother. I am your maker! I. Am. Ivalice!” Shivers.

[rasenkaikyo]

with @magitek-powered-calligraphy​

It was to the convenience of the Majestic Theater's staff that the Prima Vista had a fully stocked bar setup not unlike what could be found in the Sandsea, especially for a round after a triumphant performance.

At this point during the softer hours, Hinako sat alone at the bar, having placed before her a set of items for tea, including a small dish with fine green powder and a bamboo whisk. In silence, the Raen sipped her tea.

With a thud, a bottle of Vintage Lea Monde was placed on the table. Priscilla sat next to Hinako moments afterwards with an empty glass. She uncorked the bottle without much words and poured the deep crimson liquid in her glad. She swirled the wine around a few times, lost in thought, before placing the glass back in the bar table and pushing it away from her with the tip of her fingers.

She looked to her side to Hinako for the first time. Her eyes slightly bloodshot. Her face saddened, almost pleading. Her mouth barely opened as if she was deciding to say something.

"...How's your wound? Feeling better?" Hinako looked to the bottle and then back to Priscilla, invoking the close call she had with that creature beneath the city.

As ever, Hinako smiled to her with an assuring, genuine warmth and comfort, but at close glance even she could not conceal the apparent fatigue in her eyes - likely from rest cut short, perhaps having burst into tears recently... or maybe both.

“I wanted to thank you…” Priscilla nodded. “I wouldn't be here without your intervention.” Her gaze dropped. “Thank you… gods, we are so fucked aren't we?” She rested her arms on the bar. “Carrying eikons on our pockets…”

Hinako nodded to Priscilla's gratitude, but did not readily respond to her sentiment. Wistfully, she looked to the glass of wine, and then back to her tea. Setting her own cup down, she partially filled one of the empty cups with the green powder, put some hot water over it and gently whisked the mix together. Finally, while giving a soft sigh, she placed the cup of tea near Priscilla.

"You know, I don't think we had any opportunity to speak after I joined, before this mission. I'm sorry that it had to be under such terms as these." Hinako continued to smile, albeit with a hint of sadness on her visage.

Priscilla replied with a corner smile as she grabbed the newly poured tea. She brought it close to her face and allowed herself to breathe, her expression softening. “This brings better memories…” She spoke. “Let’s make the best of it then. My name is Priscilla bas Scaevola, I am a writer and recently have been chronicling the Riskbreakers adventures.” She sipped on the tea and she felt some of the stress leave her forehead.

"Mm ♪." Hinako turned back to her own tea and picked it up; breathing in, taking another sip, breathing out. She felt more light return to her.

"I am Daigo no Hinako, of Iwa. 108th in a line of high priests. I had been friends with the company for a couple of years now - and with the dream of having further lands like Doma see the sun rise, I aligned my interests with RISK and pledged my aid."

“Like a princess, are you? There’s some elegance to the way you carry yourself.” Priscilla raised her eyebrows with a her own assessment. “I come from a family of engineers. My desire for writing went against their wishes. Then in writing about heroes I found myself a traitor to my nation and at Ashelia’s doorstep.” There’s melancholy in her smile. “Now I chronicle everything that has been happening with the company in order to publish it. People need to know…” She trails off.   

Hinako had chuckled softly at Priscilla's small assessment. It was strange; she had never really considered herself a princess, and yet over the time since she first left Doma she began to consider if those words were more true than she had realized.

The priest rested her cup and stared down at it for a moment. She knew that at this point, it was uncertain especially now to determine the way of these chronicles, but...

"...Auracite. Scantily referenced in some Doman scripture as 'seiseki', I think. It is said that time and again, heroes have convened with twelve stones to change the course of history. The Dalmascans have placed great faith in them."

Hinako glanced back towards Priscilla. "I know... I know it's tough to consider, and even I struggle to comprehend it, but... I pray that what you publish next will be able to detail how heroes found the resolve to push through adversity, even when turned against themselves."

“The belief the kami dwell in objects.” Priscilla recalled. “I guess the auracite is no different.” She nods a few times.

“I hope you are right, for everyone’s sake. I really want you to be.” Priscilla pauses. “Because they way is currently unfolding is going to end in terror and blood. You saw the place we were. Nive’s touch. Ashelia’s voice speaking of blood and sacrifice. There’s more than one agenda at play…” She trails off, eyes watering. “I know not what to do. I know not if our friends are still there. I want to save them, but I am just the writer…” she takes a long sip of her tea.

"You are right... there is a clash of agenda," Hinako muses, setting down her tea and folding her arms. "We are talking of these stones seemingly serving ancient beings, that which transcend our morals, what is considered good or evil... and it is scary. For us, and our friends, to endure something that one struggles to comprehend and to have it control, to have it act beyond the will of the individual. I don't like seeing what has become of many a Riskbreaker, including Lady Ashe.

"However... In the end they are still limited. It depends on all, if the resolve is steeled and the will is just, to rise above them. That is the conflict we need to stand vigil for, and we should be there for them for no one should have to suffer alone. Temptation can be great, and we needs help steer with whatever guidance we can, lest they drive themselves into oblivion. And if it can't be helped, then we need to find whatever reasonable way we can to pry the stones from their grasp, and heal."

Priscilla smiled, weakly but genuinely. “This strength you possess, to see light beyond this darkness.I do not know how you do it. To have that stillness of mind whilst I panic about impending doom.” She gestures a flourish with her hand as she speaks. “I can see why you would be fitting to be a high priestess. A beacon of light and peace, resolute and comforting. I imagine they looked up to you, your people.”  

Hinako glowed, letting out a quick breath, as she lowered her arms to prepare more tea. "We come of different vocations, after all. I do the best I can for them, and everyone..." It felt, there wasn't much difference between now and then, after Doma fell. She recalled the words of assurance, yet honest, she said for the people - she said to Mozu. That which served to secure the bonds between them. Such was her way.

She had faith that her words were not hollow, and she would not allow them to be hollow now.

"...As I will keep doing for you and yours, Priscilla. For all of us. We'll get through  this, together."

“Careful, princess” Priscilla smiled. “You’ll make it hard not to fall for you.” She laughed, trying to cup her mouth with her hand.

“But more seriously. What drove you? To travel away from your home and into the fray? Duty, vengeance, love?” More at ease chatting with Hinako, Priscilla finally procured a small notebook from her pocket. I am a writer. She reminded herself. “Also, what’s happened since you’ve taken the stone? Have you felt changes?” She inched her empty cup towards her. “Should at least document what’s happened, if not for us then for those to come.”

The ‘princess’ couldn’t help but laugh herself, and blush a little at Priscilla’s statement.

"Ah, love, maybe..." Hinako replied first, finishing with her cup. "I have someone who is fighting a good fight against the Empire, and after having reached a certain point of stability in Doma I thought I might join her in my own way, you know? From there, fate guided me here."

She looked to Priscilla's empty cup and opted to set her up with more tea as well. "As for my stone... If this is any consolation, I have sensed no invasive influence. Not biding its time - actively it is not interested in me as a 'vessel'. Simply put, Adrammelech is an entity of pure wrath, and I am not."

The priestess grinned a little and passed fresh tea back Pris' way. "Still we can reach out to one another, and recently it visited me in my dreams, as I slept."

“A dream?” Priscilla raised an eyebrow. “Was it trying to convince you? Warn you? Threaten you?” Her fingers played with a pen while she thought. “Was it because of your resistance? Or do you think the others are experiencing similarities?”

"...It is tough to say," Hinako replied, a bit of a frown appearing on her face as she recalled the dream, and the intensity of the feeling she felt. "Its presence was mostly ambivalent, but it did give unto me a vision, a lurid look into the past; truth of what we saw in Lea Monde.

"There was a woman and two men - two brothers, the younger undeniably being the man RISK captured. Grissom. ...They traveled deep underground to that altar, whereupon it the woman was handed the stone now in my possession by the elder brother. Then, with little warning in a seemingly tender moment, he put a dagger in her abdomen.

“He said he needed her soul as he twisted further. 'Blood for the Seraph, Blood for the Lady, Blood for the resurrection', the brother cited... but in her horrible final moments as she screamed and writhed, the woman was consumed with such great wrath against the man that a violent change was triggered. She pushed back -- A statue present at the altar embraced her, until they were one. The multi-armed, two-faced being of flesh and stone."

Priscilla’s eyes widened at the tale, her fingers loosely covering her mouth in slight terror. “Do their tales speak of a leader to these auracites?” The gears in her head began to turn, trying to extrapolate a conclusion between all this. She frowns recalling the events at Lea Monde. “Is it enough blood, My Lady” She fakes a deep voice, reminiscing of the words Nive’s body said. “Do they wish to resurrect this Seraph? Not that I would blame them, if they have been imprisoned in the stones for eons.” She ponders. “But why tell us? Why show you their plans? To flaunt their inevitability? There’s something we must be missing...”

Priscilla takes a few seconds before putting her pen away. “Sorry for the musings.” She grabbed the fresh tea and took her time to smell it before sipping again.

"It is fine, truly," Hinako said with a nod, before sipping her own tea. "I believe the Seraph in question is definitely Ultima, the High Seraph. One of twelve, legend notes that she was the de facto leader of these beings who rebelled against their empyrean masters. They failed and were subjugated forevermore."

She reached behind her and pulled out the book she has been holding on to, setting it on the table. "It makes sense that they would seek freedom, but there is so much left in the fog beyond that for sure." She furrowed her brow a little. "All I know is that even if I were subjected to the whims of demons, nothing could drive me to turn on another for blood sacrifice. Whoever yearns for it shall not have their way.”

“They shall not have their way.” Priscilla repeated with a nod. “That, we can definitely agree on.”

She allowed herself some silence with the tea and the company before continuing. “I think we are starting to move on the right direction. Information is crucial to conflict. Knowing the cards we’ve been dealt is half the fight. The other, like you mentioned, is in their hands.” Priscilla took another sip, trying to swallow the slight helplessness she felt. “Have you shared your vision with the others?”

Hinako shook her head and gestured palm-up. "Mm-mm, I haven't yet had the opportunity to see anyone over it. Mostly I needed to think about what I had seen, first... I do believe I know where I can find Nivelth, and perhaps I can cross with Akhutai along the way."

“Just…” Priscilla took a second to find the words. “Be careful. And Thanks”.

Hinako smiled back and gave an assuring nod. “Of course.”

[greenmagic-oilspill]

They wasted no time at all in getting together and preparing for the journey to Dalmasca.

Edge and Granny had told Baithin, Yue, and Gogo immediately after Azionne left. They thought to get as many Riskbreakers together as possible, to try and find everyone else left behind in the Sandsea, but of the few who stayed in Thanalan no one answered their linkpearl summons. Whether it was due to the time of night or that their comrades weren't home, they had no time to search.

Gogo got the Riskbreakers' airship ready, the one they called the High Seraph, for the journey to the east. The irony in the name of the airship was lost on Edge.

"We're still going in blind, aren't we?" Baithin asked as they rushed to the roof of the Sandsea, where Gogo had the airship ready to go. "We don't know anything about these auracite."

"We know that it has Lini in its hold," Edge said with a grunt climbing the stairs two at a time. "And I'd like to think that Ashe and the others were able to resist whatever's been happening to them, but…"

"Will you two slow down?" Granny hobbled up the stairs behind them, panting, with a concerned Yue at her heels. "A few extra minutes to let an old lady catch up won't make much of a difference. I still think we should wait for Azionne and Siz'ir, anyway."

That was another thing. Two of their Cluster were nowhere to be found, and they found that, for some reason, they couldn't Visit either of them. After Azionne appeared to warn them of Lini and the other Riskbreakers, she vanished, and they couldn't find her. Fire flooded through Edge's veins - they didn't have time to wait, didn't have time to search for their two most aloof allies.

They opened the door to the roof to see the airship, its propellers spinning and ready to depart, with Gogo at the helm. Standing in front of the ramp to board, however, were Azionne and Siz'ir.

"Oh, good, you guys are here," Baithin said. "Now we can all go!"

Edge held out an arm to stop him from going forward. "Wait. Something's not right," he said. Gogo's face showed nothing but terror, while Azionne and Siz'ir stood eerily still, facing Edge and the others with rod and katana drawn.

"She won't let me leave!" Gogo cried out. Even from across the roof, Edge could see that he was shaking. "She said she'll blast the ship right out of the sky if I do!"

"You've fallen to Exodus, haven't you," said Granny, leaning heavily on her staff. Her eyes were narrowed. "Both of you. Lini, too, I take it."

Yue gasped, clasping her hands together. "But how? Lini and the others are on the other side of the world!"

"Exodus took advantage of our connection, I suspect," Granny said, taking a deep breath and drawing back to her full height. "Took Siz'ir through his dreams, am I right?"

Siz'ir narrowed his eyes right back at her. "You're right. Exodus did visit me a lot in my dreams. But this is the right choice. Lini's even fighting to get me a stone of my own right now. Zeromus, she said."

Edge felt like a stone had dropped into his stomach. He didn't know who possessed that auracite, didn't know to what lengths Lini was going to get it. "I don't believe it. Lini would never fall to a Primal like Exodus. She'd never waver, never let him in. She's one of the most determined people I know."

Then again, so was his wife… and Azionne said she was in trouble, too.

"Her steadfast determination to set things right melded perfectly with the goals of Exodus," Azionne said, striding around the roof. Siz'ir started walking in the other direction - were they planning a pincer attack? Would they attack their own Cluster, their own comrades? "She did not fall. Lini knows exactly what she is doing."

"And what is that, exactly?" Baithin asked, rapier drawn.

"She'll become the Authority," Siz'ir continued for Azionne. "The Judge who will set things right. She'll free Dalmasca, free Ivalice, and defeat the Empire. With us at her side."

"Eight of the twelve stones will be ours," said Azionne. "One for each of us."

"No!" Yue exclaimed, standing behind Granny and shaking her head. "That is wrong. We will do no such thing! My lady, how could you have fallen for the Primal's lies?"

"There are no lies," Azionne responded. She raised a hand, magic crackling between her fingers. "Exodus offers power that no simple Primal can."

"Lini was not the type to waver, true," Granny said. "But while she scarcely harbors any doubt as to her own actions, you two always did." Her words reached Azionne and Siz'ir, cutting them enough to halt them both in their tracks. "Both of your doubts, your fears, are greater than all the rest of us. Even little Gogonegi is braver than both of you combined. That is how Exodus wiggled his way into your minds."

"You don't know anything about me, even with this Echo!" Siz'ir snarled. He rushed forward, katana raised, but Granny blasted him with an Aero spell before he could reach them, launching him back, where he managed to land on his feet.

"So you come at us, blade raised in anger," Granny said, sighing. She seemed almost disappointed in him. "I see… I suppose there is no avoiding this, then, if we wish to board that airship?"

Azionne raised her rod high, channeling a spell. "No, there isn't." A powerful fire spell dropped on the four of them from above, sending Edge, Granny, Baithin, and Yue scattering. Yue, leaping to Edge's side, managed to shield them both with a spell, while Granny and Baithin jumped to the other side of the roof. Siz'ir took the opportunity to assault Edge, but he managed to dodge all of his angry, reckless swings.

"Stop this!" Yue cried. "Stop this now!"

Edge couldn't draw his daggers, not even to defend himself, not to face his friends. He balled his hands into fists, crouching down into a Raptor stance. He didn't put his training as a Fist of Rhalgr to much use anymore, but now… "You won't stop me, Siz'ir. I'm gonna get on that airship and I'm gonna save all the others."

The Miqo'te bared his fangs. "As if!" He swung at Edge again, but he sidestepped and got inside Siz'ir's defenses, hitting him with a palm thrust in the shoulder to throw him off balance. He tried to make a grab for Siz'ir's sword arm, but missed when the Samurai's reflexes proved to be more honed than he thought. Siz'ir regained his balance quickly, coming at Edge with a horizontal swing, but he bent backwards to avoid it.

Siz'ir's training was starting to pay off, it seemed. Even so, Edge was far more experienced both as a Monk and as a shinobi. Despite the situation, Edge couldn't help but grin.

On the other side of the roof, blasts of magic rocketed off loud enough to potentially wake the whole Goblet. Azionne and Granny dueling together was a sight to behold - fire and lightning clashed with conjured stone and wind, while Baithin weaved between them with his own spellwork and swordplay. Even as unfamiliar with magic as he was, Edge knew that Baithin was outclassed by the two of them, both women far more experienced than he. Baithin seemed to come to the same conclusion, instead rushing to the airship ramp in order to protect Gogo and the airship from the magical onslaught.

Through it all, Edge thought for a moment he saw Lini flash into existence, her armor crested in gold, her sword and her eyes terrible in their power as she fought an unseen foe. But as soon as he tried to focus on her, she vanished.

Azionne launched shards of ice at Granny, who managed to deflect them with a barrier of stone. Granny hurled the stone at Azionne in retaliation, but she danced out of the way. "Even though Exodus' influence reached you all the way here," Granny said, "none of his power can, I see. Well then, how useful can you possibly be to him? Don't you see, Azionne? Come now, you're smarter than this…"

"Do not patronize me, Moss," Azionne snapped, scowling. "Lini is trying to get us all power. Power to smite our enemies. Power to protect the ones important to us."

"That's all we want," Siz'ir said, propping himself up on his sword and panting. His lip bled from a strike by Edge's fist, but still he kept fighting. "Our Cluster… The Riskbreakers… Even if I never talk to anyone much, it's all I have. Don't you see? We're doing this for you! Just let us - "

Edge punched him in the gut before he could finish. He felt Siz'ir's form go limp, his katana clattering to the rooftop, but he held the younger man and let him down gently. He knew Siz'ir was just barely holding onto consciousness. "You're an idiot. Our Cluster has all we need. We don't need any more power - we just need to work together, and find our friends! I know we can conquer anything that crosses our path."

Siz'ir let out a low moan. "Thal's balls, Edge… that's so like you to say…"

When he slumped down to the floor, unconscious, Yue hurried to Edge's side, squirming with worry. "Will he be all right? Does Exodus still have a hold over him?"

"I think so," Edge said. He hoped that would suffice as an answer to both questions, because he didn't know what to do about a Primal's influence being felt from thousands of malms away. He turned back to the battle of mages. Granny was getting overwhelmed, but Baithin helped with sniped spells of his own. "I've got to help them."

Edge ran at Azionne while she was distracted by Granny, leaping up high to hit her with a flying kick as hard as he could. Before he made an impact, however, a great weight fell on him from above, and something invisible slammed both him and Azionne flat on the floor.

"Will everyone just stop fighting?" Yue shouted, star globe drawn. Her Gravity spell held both Edge and Azionne prone as she walked up to them, tears in her eyes. "This is not who we are. Your auras are all so… wrong, so dirty! I have had enough of this, enough of the auracite. I just wish everyone would come home and forget this ever happened! We are comrades. Friends. I never want us to fight each other like this again."

"Then let's get a move on to Dalmasca and end this!" Baithin exclaimed. "Maybe if we beat Exodus, it'll relinquish its hold on these two and Lini!"

"You are too late," said Azionne from the floor, her voice low. Edge felt the gravitational hold on both of them releasing. "The Lucavi have the Riskbreakers in their clutches. The Lady will be released. Exodus and Zeromus both say they are going to Ridorana, where it will all end, one way or another. There is no way you would ever make it in time."

Edge didn't know what Ridorana was. He was terrified that Lini had done something to the bearer of Zeromus' stone, whoever it was. "Even if we won't make it, we have to try…" he said, clutching his fists. He didn't know who the Lady was. There was so much he didn't know, and he hated being so out of the loop when almost all the people he cared about were in danger. Especially Ashe.

Lightning crackled in Azionne's hand. She pointed at the airship, but before she could let the spell off, Granny whacked her in the head with the butt of her staff, knocking her unconscious. "She speaks true," Granny said, leaning on her staff again. "It will take us days to get there, and by the time we do, it'll all be over. I think we should do what we can to help Azionne and Siz'ir, and do what we can for the others from here."

"We'll reach Lini," said Yue, putting a hand over her heart. "We have to."

"Ashe is gonna be okay, Edge," said Baithin, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Believe in them."

Edge closed his eyes, thinking of Lini, trying his hardest to Visit her. All he saw were golden scales, their weight all on one side, their delicate balance broken.

[starcunning]

Praxis inordinata

Happy Friday! Today I will be speedrunning the Eighth Umbral Calamity*. Stay tuned for part two.

*Eighth Umbral Calamity not guaranteed but strongly indicated.

[M/F] [WOL* (Kallisti)/Nabriales][The plot actually arrived? There’s no porn in this; there’s just plot.][Blood CW][Mild gore][Just a spectacularly bad idea all around][*technically Lensha Hathaar is the WOL; Kallie is one of her Echo-blessed companions][ARR 2.56][Erebidae][3.4k words]

Riol was a cheater. It had taken her some time to notice, but he won too often. The stakes were low enough that she had to assume it was merely ingrained habit—he had no obvious tells, which only cemented this perception. Kallisti resolved to mention it to Moenbryda only if it continued to agitate her—there was no sense in risking her tearing her stitches over what was meant to be a friendly game.

It had been a poor distraction up until that revelation; even afterward part of Kallisti seethed with resentment that her presence had not been requested at the Sultana’s banquet. Lensha Ravenfeller was a more palatable morsel, and had looked so in her gown of ivory when she had left with the others on wings of aether.

Kallisti thought of Ul’dah and she was there, in the Fragrant Chamber, though the scent of spice and the sound of gentle music she had anticipated were absent. The place was an abattoir, stinking of blood, and she heard steel strike steel and screams of fright. She felt the fear welling in her own throat, the terrible surety that the Sultana was dead and the Bull’s retribution was merciless—one of his fellow members of the Syndicate had paid a blood price for his grief already. Her gaze fixed at last upon the Highlander and she saw, impossibly, that his foe was Ilberd Feare.

The realization jerked Kallisti out of her Echo-blessed vision. She had fallen from her perch to land on the stone floor, and gazed up at Moenbryda’s ceiling. A figure loomed over her—Daye, she recalled after a moment—but rather than offer her a hand up, he pointed his spear at her throat.

Kallisti lifted her head to glance around the room. In the instant before the butt of his lance struck her forehead, knocking her skull against the stone, she noted the presence of two other Crystal Braves. One was doing his best to menace Moenbryda, though she had a yalm of height on him and a hellacious tongue undulled by her injuries. The other was patting Riol down for weapons; a half-dozen blades already dropped to the stones.

Kallisti closed her eyes, bitter annoyance prickling at the nape of her neck. Some help that vision was, to have left her in this position. “I know you’re awake,” said Laurentius Daye. She had seen the way Lensha’s eyelids twitched when she was in the throes of the Echo, and briefly tried to imitate it while also casting her aether back toward its anchor point, thereby to escape. Heat seared her shoulder, bright and blooming, and she smelled blood again, real this time; hers; his lance had pierced her shoulder, disrupting her focus on both tasks. She gasped. “Don’t try that again,” Laurentius cautioned.

She was going to die on the floor of Moenbryda’s bedroom, which was not at all what she had imagined for her ending. Oh, she’d imagined this locale once or twice, but the circumstances were vastly different. Kallisti tried not to panic. She had a great deal of practice wrangling her fear of death, but usually she at least had her staff. “Well?” said a voice. “Go and retrieve it, then.” “Nabriales,” she said, eyes snapping open. At the same time, Moenbryda said, “What is he doing here?”

Nabriales turned to face the scholar. Laurentius brought his spear up. Almost casually, Nabriales swiped his claws over the lancer’s throat. Crimson stained his blue uniform, beaded on the black leather of the Ascian’s robes, and spattered upon the stone floor. A moment later, Laurentius fell, too, dropping his weapon to clutch at his neck.

In the fracas, Riol had slipped a knife from his boot and pinned his Braves minder in the corner of the room. Nabriales pulled Kallisti to her feet and toward the door. She yelped at the tug on her injured shoulder, then planted her feet. “Them too,” she demanded. “Really?” the Ascian groused, and the shadows of the room seemed to coalesce into sprites of pitch, the umbral energy sparking from them quickly subduing the Crystal Braves. Moenbryda did not move from her perch. “I said, what is he doing here?” she repeated. “Saving your miserable lives,” he drawled. “Who are you talking to?” Riol asked. “Don’t worry about it,” Kallisti insisted. “An Ascian,” Moenbryda said anyway. “A what?” “Don’t worry about it!” Kallie said, still more forcefully. She clasped a hand to her shoulder, trying to staunch the bleeding.

Nabriales flicked a claw, and his shadow sprites darted out in front of the group, floating down the hall like ball lightning in negative. “I do hope you have a plan, Kallisti,” he muttered. “To the armory first,” she declared, “and we fight our way out.” “I will hold them here,” he said, and she could feel the aether gathering around him even as the Crystal Braves at the end of the hall turned to charge. Kallisti turned away, sprinting ahead, the other Scions running after. Riol hustled to the fore, ducking into the next stairway and clearing the first landings before waving Kallisti and Moenbryda after him.

“Do I want to know?” Moenbryda asked. “I don’t think I could explain it if you did,” Kallisti admitted. “Are you that intent on dissecting a gift?” “Yes. How did he know to come here?” “Put it down to opportunism if you like,” she hedged. “Something’s going on in Ul’dah,” Kallisti continued. “That’s what I saw.” “You think it’s related?” “Raubahn and Ilberd were swordfighting, so I have to assume—” Riol hushed them both, stepping out into the hall. Kallie heard the sounds of feet scuffling on the floor and peered out of the doorway to find the Hyur with his arm wrapped around the neck of another Crystal Brave. The other man made a series of choking, gurgling sounds that were only half-muffled by Riol’s fingers. He dragged the limp body into the stairwell and stripped the blue jacket from his compatriot, shrugging into it. “If the Braves are trying to hold the Rising Stones,” he said, “my best bet is to pass among them. I’m willing to bet this has to do with Wilred’s disappearance …” “What?” Riol looked at her, brow twisted in pained confusion. “Wilred,” he said. “One of ours. The best of us. You didn’t hear?” “I was off dealing with the Isle of Val,” Kallisti said. Riol shook his head, ushering the pair out into the hallway, pretending to hustle them before him. Kallisti didn’t bother to meet the gaze of any of the Braves they passed. She could feel the blood trickling down her arm, droplets falling from her fingertips, spattering on the stone. Her trail of crimson wound from the dormitories to the armory, and as they ducked inside, Kallisti took a deep breath. She repented of it as her shoulders rose, coughing it back out in a sigh a moment later.

She found her staff, and took it in her bloodied hands, feeling her aether flow into it, into once-living bone and wood as though it were her own body. It was a strange sensation—and a new one, having come to her only since Sharlayan, since she had slipped the moors of her mortal flesh for the briefest moment. Kallisti let out another breath, more measured, and turned back toward Riol and Moenbryda.

“Can you get out of here?” she said. “Even if you can only teleport outside, Slafborn should be able to help—” “It would send me back to Sharlayan!” “And I’d end up back in La Noscea.” Kallisti’s tail lashed behind her. She wanted to shrug, but her shoulder stung. “I’m not actually hearing a negative. If you stay here, you die.” “What makes you so sure?” Moenbryda pressed her. “The Sultana’s dead,” Kallisti said. “Gods, they’re trying to pin it on us,” Riol replied a moment later. “That’s the best I can figure,” she agreed. “So go back west or stay here and hang for a traitor.” “What about you?” Moenbryda asked. “What about the Ascian?” “I’ll deal with him,” Kallisti said. “Why did he save you?” “I don’t know,” she admitted. Oh, she had ideas—hopes, perhaps—but she had expected nothing to come of that little tug on the thread of aether that wound between them across whatever distance she could conceive of. “I’ll deal with him.” Moenbryda put the white auracite prism into her hands. “You’ll need this. And the staff.” “I have the staff,” she said, forcing the white stone into a pouch at her belt, marring it with blood. “Minfilia left it with me when she and Lensha went to Ul’dah.”

“Minfilia,” the Roegadyn woman repeated. “Is she alright?” “I didn’t see her,” Kallie said. “Almost everybody … almost everyone went.” “Urianger stayed behind,” Moenbryda supplied. “I have no idea what’s going on at the Waking Sands,” she said. “Is Arenvald with him?” “I think so,” said Riol. “Start with him,” Kallisti said. “Moenbryda, get out of here.” “But—” “You’re injured,” Riol reminded her. “Go.” “I’ll watch the door,” Kallisti said, adopting a ready stance. She clutched her staff with both hands, trying to ignore the pain radiating from her shoulder. The old wood had grown slick and swollen with her blood, drinking it in. “Riol, you go too.” “No,” he said, posting up beside her. “When she’s gone I’ll go find the others. They have no idea what’s happening here.” “Good luck,” said Moenbryda. Kallisti did not look back, but she felt the void in the aether, the rush of currents to fill the empty space, a moment later.

“Now you,” Kallie said, and Riol slipped back out into the hallway, striding stiffly onward, as though he was simply on patrol. She waited until he was out of sight, and thought of a crimson sigil—an insectoid pyramid. The aether around her rippled again, and she felt warmth and darkness at her shoulder. “Are you ready to go?” Nabriales asked. “Yes, but we’re going the long way,” she said. He scoffed. “Why ever so? I could take you to the Chrysalis now.” “Because Riol will need the distraction,” she said, “and I didn’t come for my weapon so that I could not fight.” “Meddlesome little fool,” he scolded her. “Then abandon me to my follies,” she said, already pushing open the door to the hall. “I will not,” said the Ascian, sounding genuinely affronted.

Kallie sprinted down the hall, rounding to find a party of Crystal Braves flanking the doorway. She laughed as she ran, and they hurried after her. So easy to lead them into a narrower passage, where she could round on them and gout them with flame. Nabriales caught them from behind, muttering in his dark tongue about the coming of the end, and crackling black energy speared down the hallway. They fell and he rose, an unhallowed being, his cloak rippling like dark wings, and then she was off again. Her shoulder ached. She let it drive her.

The pain seared still more brightly as she rounded a corner and was faced with a sword in her face. She brought her staff up to block, catching the weapon on the wootz plating. Steel rung against steel, and she shoved upward before the blade could slide far enough to catch her fingers. She could see stars on the edges of her vision, and channeled her pain into astral flame—not a hungry gout as she had done moments before, but an unassuming ember, notable only for where she called it.

She burned the air from the soldier’s lungs, and he died breathing ashes. Nabriales smiled, stepping over him, and led. To the right, the solar, and he turned that way before she shouted for him to follow, and went left, back toward the antechambers where her fellows often gathered.

She mounted the stairs and saw dozens of cobalt uniforms, turning to regard her sudden advance. She backpedaled, stumbling into Nabriales, who put her behind him. “Run,” she urged him, and dove back into the labyrinthine halls of the Rising Stones. She did not hear his footsteps behind her—but she heard the advance of booted feet a moment later, soldiers of the Crystal Braves in hot pursuit.

The earth trembled underfoot. She staggered, stumbled, went down hard—on her injured shoulder, barely keeping hold of her blood-slick staff. Kallisti scrabbled to her feet, passing her staff into her right hand, clutching it with numb fingers so that she could press her left palm to her oozing wound.

She never thought she could miss Lensha so much.

Kallisti looked back as she ran, and saw Nabriales moving through the rising crowd of soldiers, as unconcerned with them as they were with him. His face was masked in the crimson glow of his sigil, but for all the darkness that seethed from him they were still outnumbered. She ran, dimly aware of how difficult it was to climb stairs.

Her hands were cold, so it was ice next, freezing in place the soldiers in blue she saw awaiting her up ahead. The hall stretched onward, no other set of stairs that she could see, so she shouldered open the last door on the left, because she could lean on it with her good side.

It was a dormitory—disused and dusty. Its window overlooked Revenant’s Toll. She was several stories up. “Jump,” Nabriales said, his voice at her ear. She glanced back at him. He was bowed over her, a hand outstretched behind him, as though he could—without even looking—cover the doorway. He reached past her, throwing open the sash of the window. “What?” “Either you jump or we fight our way back out, the way we came, and there are still more of them on the way.” “I’ll die.” “Do you think I would allow that now?” he asked, sounding genuinely annoyed by the possibility. She could hear the approach of boots, the raised voices of the Crystal Braves as they cleared each of the rooms in turn.

Kallisti slung her staff over her back, pulled herself up onto the windowsill with a cry of pain, and tried not to look down. The heights were dizzying. Her fingers were blood-sticky against the leaded casings of the window, and a fierce wind moaned through the canyon. She closed her eyes, let go of her perch, and leapt, pushing off with her legs.

It was cold, a night wind rushing over her face, through her hair, tearing away her hat. Then it was warm, and she got the sense that even with her eyes open she could not see through the complete blackness that surrounded her. All sense of gravity failed her. She knew her head from her feet only by orienting herself around her pain—that must be her right shoulder, she told herself, which meant she must know which way her head was facing. She did not breathe, and she was sure she must be dying. She thought of an ocean she had never seen.

Then she thought of the salt marshes of her home, of the sea crashing over the breakwaters and flooding the estuaries. She could smell them, she thought—although perhaps the salt that filled her lungs was merely the scent of her own blood. Then she felt rain upon her cheeks.

Kallisti opened her eyes, and found herself in Nabriales’s arms, her legs dangling freely as he clutched her, chest to chest. “I told you I could float,” he reminded her, and set her down among the sedges. “I had other things on my mind,” she said. She leaned on him, no longer feeling strong enough to stand. “This is Yafaem,” she said after a moment. Even in the dim night, it seemed obvious to her. She knew these trees, the reeds and grasses that tickled at her calves, the scent of peat. “It seemed best to allow you to decide,” Nabriales said. “What is this place?” “It’s home,” she said, sagging with relief. He reached out to catch her by the shoulder, and she hissed in pain. “Careful,” she said. “That still troubles you?” “Of course it does,” she snapped. “It’s a wound.” “Hm,” he said, pulling her in, clamping his hand over her shoulder. She yelped in pain, looking up at his face in agony as though she might find there some reason for this torture.

He was not smiling sadistically, as she could not help but to have imagined. Instead, his mouth was set in a grim line of focus, and she imagined the frown that bent his brow behind the mask. The searing pain of contact ebbed after a moment, and she could feel the blood trickling from her wound reverse direction, flowing upward, back into her body. Her agonized flesh knitted, slowly, pulsing with pain for several minutes. She fought past it to watch as the damage she had done to herself in her desperate flight was mended, leaving no scar, even the skin around the wound free of blood—though it still clung to her fingers. When he lifted his hand, the cloth, too, was mended. It was like nothing had ever happened. “Oh,” she said. Her head swam. “There,” he said. “How fragile your mortal body.” “I still lost a lot of blood,” she said, lifting her hand to regard it. He curled his palm around her own, pressing her fingers to his lips. It stained them crimson, darker than his mask. “Little I can do for that now that we’ve left it in Mor Dhona,” he said, tone sardonic. “I need a place to rest. There’s … I think there’s a cave near here, we would use it when we were hunting in this area …”

She listened to the falling rain—pattering on leaves, splashing into the waters of the marsh. The wind blew through the grasses, and she could hear the call of frogs. “We’re safe,” she said. “No one … no one comes here but my clan, and … they’ll know me. If they find us.” Still it seemed an impossible task to reach the foothills, and she staggered through the mire until they found its mouth. It was cool and dry inside. She fell to her knees immediately, putting her back to the stone walls and sliding down. Nabriales crouched beside her. His hood had gone, sometime since their arrival here. His mask, too. He looked at her. “Are you staying? It isn’t much, but it should be safe. Or are you going … wherever Ascians go?” He shook his head. “There are things that require my attention, but these are eventualities. My window of opportunity has not yet closed.” She hummed out some acquiescence, letting her eyes close. The outer layers of her clothing were damp with rain, but the cloth against her skin was dry, and it seemed too much effort to undress now. It took most of her concentration to focus long enough to ask a single question.

“Why did you know to come for me?” “You asked,” he said. “Nnnn…no, I didn’t, I never said your name until you were already there.” He laughed, the bombastic sound of it filling the cave, redoubled and echoing around them. “Is that how you think this works, little fool?” he mused. “That you can speak my name and summon me, like a bound voidsent?” “When you think about it,” Kallisti said, “I am Mhachi.” “Even the ancient sorcerers of Mhach could not command our kind,” Nabriales said, bristling with pride. “No. You cannot compel me.” “Then why did you come?” “I felt your distress,” he said. She felt aether prickle along the nape of her neck—distantly, as though through a haze of black felt. Kallisti realized then how drawn she was. “I thought you understood this.” “I didn’t realize …” “I could be banished to the most distant star and I would still feel you,” he said. “It was not my intent when I branded you, but in what came afterward …” “In Sharlayan?” she supplied. “We are entangled now,” he said. “A change in your aether is a change in my aether,” he said. “I can sense your soul as though you had laid it bare before me.” “Spooky,” she said. Then, “Isn’t that a weakness?” “Perhaps,” he admitted. “So that’s how you knew,” she said, “but I couldn’t compel you to act. That means … it was your decision.” “Yes,” Nabriales said.

“Isn’t that unusual?” she asked. “Yes.” Then the rising darkness swarmed up around her, and she let it claim her. Her struggle had wearied her. It was so much easier simply to let go.

[crossroadsdimension]

Of course, after all they went through, Emet-Selch would still deem them unworthy to hold the positions his people had in the past. His Convocation of Thirteen -- apparently missing a member from what the shades said -- were going to bring the world back together and continue with their plans to shape the world as their tempered minds saw fit.

He shot them all down, and watched with sick glee as the Light started to break through Cross’ skin and tear deeper into her insides. It was burning, burning, burning--

and then it was her and Ardbert, standing alone in a white expanse.

(”Take it. We fight as one.”

“Ardbert...” Cross closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and nodded back. “All right. For our worlds!”

She grabbed the handle of his axe, and he dissolved into aether.)

Hades seemed startled to find Cross standing -- even alarmed, somehow. That shaken state continued as G’raha Tia revealed himself and called for assistance from other worlds in their fight against the Ascian. But when she told him, “I challenge you, Emet-Selch, for the fate of two worlds. We are bringing an end to this charade over who can be their stewards now,” Emet-Selch’s expression resolved into something else.

He revealed his true name, brought them above the city, and revealed a larger, monstrous form before he went to town.

The fight was brutal. Cross almost went down a few times, but the warriors around her pulled her back to her feet and helped her find the steps she needed in order to avoid being hit by Hades’ attacks. As desperate as he was for his world and his people to return...well, Cross wasn’t going to let him destroy the lives that were living now. Thancred and the others, recovered from being blasted by Emet-Selch before Cross’ soul was strengthened, barged into the fight and brought Urianger’s auracite to bear against the giant being.

Cross channeled all the light she had and released it. The Warrior’s Axe cut straight through him.

(”Remember...that we once lived.”

Cross gave Hades a sad look, and nodded in reply. “I will. We all will.” She gave him a half-smile. “Rest, Hades. You look like you could use a nap.”

Something flickered on his face, but he settled for a smile in return before he dissolved into aether.)

After they got out of the city and made sure that G’raha was all right (”I’m glad to see you awake, G’raha, but please don’t pull a stunt like that on me again”), Cross told them everything about Ardbert as they walked to the edge of the ocean bubble. Thancred was understandably alarmed at how the Warrior had been there when they couldn’t see him, but upon learning he’d been a shard of Cross’ soul, he remarked that Ardbert better not make himself known in the near future.

(”Only when I get my hands on an axe,” Cross told him. “I’m more comfortable with my staff anyway.”)

Cross helped the rest get back to the surface where she could, with mounts or swimming alongside them (and yes, she did kiss Thancred a couple times with the excuse of giving him air because why not).

The party that followed at the Crystarium lasted almost until dawn, but everyone made Cross go to bed early to make sure she actually rested. She barely remembered her dreams, but it felt like she’d been speaking to Ardbert in them, somehow. She came out of that sleep feeling more rested than she had been in a long time.

After checking in with everyone, they went their separate ways. G’raha still didn’t know how to send everyone home, and promised to work on a way to do so while everyone else got their affairs in order. Cross was sent back to the Source to make sure Tataru knew everything was all right, and the Lalafell received her with cheerful relief.

Granted, Thancred and the others were still trapped on the First, but...well, things seemed to be looking up. Especially if the Empire wasn’t making any moves to attack with their armies anytime soon.

It made her wonder what Elidibus was doing, not pressing the advantage on the Source when she’d been away....