FFXIV: The Sleeping Emperor

Oh my gosh this chapter went long. At first I had my hands full with this catboy trying to turn everything into The R’nyath Show but since this is basically his chapter to protagonize eventually I let him have his way. Lots of cameos of my game friends, and a few retainers/OCs to make up the balance! I hope it’s not too overwhelming!

I’m excited to get back to MSQ next chapter!

Chapter 11: Life in Mor Dhona

 

Chapter 12: The Sleeping Emperor

The lead-up to the tower was a massive, mysterious facility that they had been briefed as being titled the Labyrinth of the Ancients. The ceiling seemed malms away, the walkways leaping over what looked like lava, but R’nyath really didn’t have time to look about. The resident monsters came at them in waves, and he had his hands full watching out for R’inwa and taking in Kekeniro’s orders. Kekeniro had set up a linkshell to relay his directions to the entire group, though he mostly referred to the team leaders when calling out. “I’m seeing several succubi and a Valefor up ahead. Achiyo’s team will take the Valefor, and Chuchupa and Vivienne’s teams will deal with the succubi. Try to draw them away from the Valefor so we don’t get interference.” Kekeniro had pretty good eyesight for a bookworm, R’nyath considered.

“What do I do?” Yllamse asked nearly every time.

“Wait for Chuchupa to get a succubus’ attention, then punch it in the kidneys,” Kekeniro said.

By the second day, that command had simplified down to “Punch it!” and was amplified by half of the collective team, R’nyath and R’inwa included.

Chaos still reigned; half the adventurers were not used to working with others, and definitely not in a mob this large. There was far too much shouting, and screaming, and near misses from friendly fire, and order was only partly maintained by the Roegadyn scholar Nynke Blanskribawyn, who complained she couldn’t hear Kekeniro. And it seemed Kekeniro was a bit overwhelmed himself, and not yet willing enough to roar over everyone, his natural diffidence hindering him.

But gradually, things sorted out; communication improved, teamwork and coordination improved, and they got better at killing the monsters prowling about. R’nyath was grateful; he had the unsettling feeling that there was much tougher waiting ahead, and the sooner they got their act together, the less screaming there would be later. Hopefully there would be no grieving. They were all too young and hopeful for that to be acceptable. He still hadn’t forgotten the looks on everyone’s faces after Rinala and Aentfryn had Raised him in the middle of the Twintania fight.

“So, what are you doing with Master G’raha?” R’inwa demanded when they began to return to camp on the first day. R’nyath glared at him, and R’inwa lowered his voice, though the others weren’t really paying attention to them. “I thought you liked Rinala.”

R’nyath rolled his eyes. “I do. I’m easily distracted.”

“You’re terrible.”

“He seems interested. Who am I to turn him down?”

“You might not have to if you weren’t making bedroom eyes at him. And what happens when he finds out how fickle you are?”

“Hey! Just because I have poor self-control doesn’t mean I’m fickle.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“I know enough. Look, she likes that other fellow anyway, this just makes things better for everyone!”

R’inwa settled back, looking unconvinced. “I think you’re just making excuses.”

“In the end, it’s none of your business,” R’nyath said, which tended to shut R’inwa up.

 

It took them a couple days to make it just to the foot of the tower, as they were being as thorough as they could. Not one monster would escape their purge to threaten the archaeologists. Kekeniro did say he was worried the monsters might simply regenerate, but they’d seen no clear facilities or devices for such purpose, and Unei and Doga assured them that they would not receive reinforcements from the tower.

Yllamse in particular was hilarious, usually unintentionally, through an eccentric naivety. She spoke loudly, rapidly, cheerfully – and constantly – so R’nyath couldn’t help but be privy to most of it, even though she was off in Chuchupa’s group with Tam, whom she seemed to know quite well. “…And then I came home and found this fellow in my bed again, like the third time that month-”

Heads turned. “Ye were sleeping in her bed?” Chuchupa cried. “Didn’t think ye had it in ye, ye giant virgin.”

Tam rolled his eyes. “I was sleeping in her bed, not with her. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Why?” Garth asked bluntly, grinning and ready to tease for all he was worth. “Why would you sleep in the bed of this poor innocent maiden? Do you want to get slapped?”

“One bed’s as good as another, and she wasn’t using it.”

“Don’t worry, I bought another bed,” Yllamse informed them. “I bought a bunk-bed! It’s perfect!”

“I feel you’re missing the point,” Naomi said, adding under her breath, “both of you.”

Yllamse blinked at her. “What point?”

Naomi sighed. “I’ll explain when you’re older.”

“Do you actually live with her now, or just inconvenience her by stealing her bed?” Garth asked.

“The latter,” Tam responded. “I have no need for a permanent address.”

“Yet you visit her so frequently,” Vivienne pointed out. “More often than your knightly friend in Coerthas, if I’m not mistaken.”

“It’s because I redecorate so often,” Yllamse said. “Almost every day I have to move something in the house, or I get restless.”

“It’s an addiction,” said Naomi, sighing. “We need a leash for her.”

“I’m not into BDSM,” Yllamse said without any trace of appearing to know what BDSM was. Several people spluttered, turned red, or laughed.

“Please, help us,” said a white-haired Miqo’te, Eir’wo, not reacting to her comment. “She’s started coming to our dwellings and rearranging them too.”

A summoner in the same group as them stared at them in horror. “Normally I go all in for anarchy, but stay away from me, woman. …Not that I have a house.”

“Tharash, you have a pile of books, for you it’s basically the same thing,” Khem said with his charming North Shroud accent, laughing.

“You have a pile of books too,” Tharash said, a little sulkily.

Nein, my pile of books is neatly organized by alphabetical order of author, and exists next to my alchemy lab. If you’re ever in the town of Mist and require an alchemist, please don’t hesitate to call on me,” Khem said, turning to the group at large.

“I could do that,” said a towering monk from Vivienne’s group, a dark-skinned Roegadyn introduced as Odd Sparrow. R’nyath had thought of her as rather grim and forbidding from her demeanour, and the sound of her voice did little to dispel that. “I tend to need potions more often than I care to admit.”

Khem beamed at her, not at all intimidated by her serious mien or chiselled form. Lucky. “I’m at your service, my lady.”

Kekeniro clapped his hands for their attention. “Now that we’ve had a little break, we need to get moving again. I’d like to clear this wing by the end of today at least.”

“C-Team, form up on me!” Chuchupa called, twirling her axe. “We’ll give ’em what for!”

 

It was still intense, despite the inter-combat banter, and R’nyath was glad when each day was done. It was… unsettling, being in the Allagan facility. He didn’t like it, big and grandiose and so far removed from what he considered normal. And Kekeniro was saying it was only going to get worse the further they went up the actual tower. Joy!

But they were all actually joyful when they reached the true foot of the tower. A massive blue double door barred their way, and it seemed completely sealed. Unei and Doga had said to bring them on the next day, for they were the only ones who could open it. All of the researchers would begin to move into the Labyrinth, which Kekeniro was still dubious about, worrying that fighting might spill out of the Tower if things went badly, but Cid said that it was a risk they were willing to take. “You’ll warn us, right? Of course you will.”

Returning to the camp that evening, R’nyath paused a moment to sniff himself. He was particularly disgusting today, having been showered by dragon guts thanks to the three lancers among the company. Yes, he could have been further away from the dragon, but he hadn’t been.

The weather and the lake were freezing, though snow didn’t seem to want to stick to the crystals around here. But he didn’t have much of a choice, did he? He wasn’t going to make the ride all the way back to Revenant’s Toll just for a bath. Many Eorzeans only washed once or twice a year, but many Eorzeans weren’t Miqo’te; his people tended to be slightly more fastidious. And besides… he’d caught a glimpse of red hair, coming eagerly to receive their report.

R’nyath casually made his way down to the lakeside in full view of where Cid, G’raha, and Rammbroes were talking with Achiyo, Kekeniro, Vivienne, and Aentfryn. Casually laid his gear aside and stripped off his tunic, rinsing it off in the frigid water. Casually splashing water up his chest and shoulders to get rid of that grimy feeling he couldn’t stand, careful not to get his tail wet. As he straightened and wiped his hair away from his forehead, rivulets shimmering down his body in the light of the setting sun, he knew that despite being freezing cold, he was smoking hot.

And it had had the effect he’d hoped for. G’raha had split off from the debriefing and was watching him from not far away. R’nyath grinned, his tail swaying with anticipation, and beckoned him over.

“You are excessively, shamelessly distracting and I know you know it,” G’raha told him severely. And pulled off his own tunic to join him.

R’nyath’s grin was threatening to split his face in two. “And I know you like it.”

“Obviously, or I would not be here, ignoring critical information,” G’raha grumbled. “You missed a spot.” Gods, the water was cold. And it was so worth it. He glanced at the background of the camp to see if anyone else was looking and saw Rinala, red as a beet and apparently unable to look away. Encouraging, except he only dated one person at a time while he was a Tia, and he wasn’t going to bother trying for Nunh any time soon – if ever. His other companions cast glances towards them, amused or disapproving, or in Yllamse’s case, confused, but no one else was compelled, or had the courage, to stare.

But hey, he knew Rinala liked half-naked men now. Maybe he’d try to contrive for Thancred to lose his tunic one of these days.

“As sensuous as this is,” G’raha said, and his mismatched ruby and emerald eyes sent a jolt through R’nyath, “we should get warm and dry before we catch cold. My tent?”

“I’d be delighted,” R’nyath said, and together they splashed out of the water, grabbed their tunics and bows and quivers and made a dash for the camp, shivering and laughing.

A few minutes later they were in said tent, swathed in heavy wool blankets with only their heads poking out. Under it his tail was wrapped around his knees with his hands between them to warm them. His wet tunic had been hung over a fire outside to dry; R’inwa had said he’d watch it.

“You know, that was incredibly foolish,” G’raha scolded him in his delightful educated voice, doing something with a device stamped with the Ironworks logo. The tent was remarkably full of books and boxes of scrolls and even a few tomestones carefully placed so they wouldn’t get dirty. “You did not need to risk pneumonia to get my attention. Let us see if this device of Wedge’s actually works…”

R’nyath knew his own eyes were dilated with fascination, ears pricked forwards. “I usually leave most of the thinking up to Kekeniro. Showboating aside, I did need to wash. Have you ever gotten dragon guts in your clothes?”

G’raha gave him a Look. “You could have requested less-freezing water be prepared for you. You are a Warrior of Light and had a reasonable reason. And I still believe you’re exceptionally foolish. ‘Tis good for you that you’re handsome.”

R’nyath laughed, blushing a little. “You’re handsome.”

G’raha paused and stared at him, the Look becoming less Lookish. “Am I?”

“Absolutely,” R’nyath said emphatically. “Gorgeous. Brilliant. Fierce. Also impatient, stubborn, cocky, and peculiar. What’s the device supposed to do?”

“Hot water for tea, without a fire. I have only used it once before, and that with supervision. I am not actually supposed to have this right now.”

“Oh, I like you,” R’nyath said, grinning.

“I suppose that says more about you than me,” G’raha said with a sigh, and then the electric kettle began to sing.

Tea brought life back into him, and relaxation, and before long they were chatting comfortably about the day’s expedition. “I wish I could go with you,” G’raha said, eyes soft with admiration. “It sounds so exciting. The mess you left behind looks like it was exciting.”

R’nyath grinned. “It’s total chaos. It’s amazing no one’s died yet. But that’s my buddy Kekeniro. Keeping his people alive is his top priority. Anyway, after that bout with the gigas, I’d be delighted to fight beside you again.”

“Alas, Cid has decreed my brain is too valuable to assist you with my brawn. Perhaps in the future, when this crisis has passed, although I think I will be researching this site for a long time, perhaps the rest of my life. Though of course I could take vacations when you visit.”

“The rest of your life?” R’nyath exclaimed. “Won’t that get boring? I’d get bored.”

G’raha shook his head with a funny little smile. “That’s why you’re an adventurer. This is my focus, my passion. Not to brag, but I am the expert on the Crystal Tower, even among the Students of Baldesion. The more I learn about it, the more fascinated I become. And there is a… personal element as well.”

“Wow. And what would that be?”

“My eye,” G’raha said, gesturing to the scarlet one. “It’s a long story, but you look like you’re dying to hear it.”

R’nyath propped his chin on his hands, and stared adoringly at him. “Pray go on.”

G’raha did not need any more persuading, briefly explaining the mystery behind his ‘royal’ eye and what little he’d newly learned about it from Unei and Doga before diving into rather exhaustive detail on the Crystal Tower and Allagan history in the area. R’nyath might have zoned out a bit during the last part, but it was pretty impressive that G’raha could lecture as he did without referring to a single one of the books stacked about his tent.

He did refer to the tower once as the Syrcus Tower, and R’nyath’s wit could not let it slide. “Do they have acrobats and oliphants in there?”

“Ha, ha,” said G’raha, who had definitely heard it before, and swatted at him. R’nyath swatted back, and their catty little slap fight turned into R’nyath pouncing on G’raha to hold him down, tail lashing with glee. His prey raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “What was the purpose of that?”

But R’nyath could see the blush spreading over his cheeks, and couldn’t help a huge grin. “Oh, nuthin’.”

“Nothing my arse. Nothing but trouble, more like.”

“You’re so smart. And gorgeous.”

“You’re an idiot. Kiss me if you’re not going to let me up.”

R’nyath did as he was told, butterflies happily wreaking havoc inside him, and from the way G’raha’s lips trembled, perhaps it was the same with him. His strong bow-calloused hands slid up R’nyath’s bare back, pulling him closer.

He seemed embarrassed afterwards, speaking faster than normal. “Anyway, to answer your facetious question, no. ‘Tis possible they may have brought oliphants from Gyr Abania to aid in construction but not terribly likely due to climate, diet, efficiency, and so on.”

“That’s no fun,” R’nyath said, and kissed him again.

 

The Crystal Tower itself was incredibly beautiful inside; as in, R’nyath could not credit his eyes with seeing truly. He would have said ‘indescribable’, but he could describe it, all right – the lower floors were of blue marble, ornately carved, with gigantic glowing blue crystals on golden pedestals and massive chattering fountains flowing beside the walkway. And it only got more beautiful as they went higher, until all the stone was blue crystal, and polished gold detailing bound everything together. The crystal was polished smooth as silk, and the gold shone as if it had been installed yesterday and polished fresh in the morning. And higher still, red velvet carpet was laid over the floor, giving his steps more spring. If this were what it was like to live in the Allagan Empire, bring it on! If it could be brought on without all the slavery and exploitation.

The main feature of the tower was, as might be expected, a set of circular staircases as wide as the Emerald Avenue in Ul’dah and hundreds if not thousands of steps long. He wasn’t counting. He had strong legs as most Miqo’te did, but he was getting pretty sick of stairs after only the second floor.

Getting up to the floors with the red carpet was no mean feat; the tower was basically a city unto itself, and every floor had to be thoroughly cleared before they could move up to the next one. What was worse, was Kekeniro had declared they needed to kill everything in the tower as quickly as possible, to prevent a properly organized resistance or counterattack from setting up during the night. Though he did allow that they might set up camp within the tower at night, run a watch, and pray that there were no automated internal defenses.

The enemies were much more difficult; chimerical monstrosities, mechanical automatons, and one fifteen or sixteen-fulm tall flamboyantly theatrical fellow with an amazing feathered hat and a quilt for a cape. R’nyath wanted that hat, but he knew it would sit on his shoulders if he put on that particular version of it. If he wanted a floofy feathered hat, he’d have to commission one from Sunsilk Tapestries. But even though death came close to them in that tower, they were coming together as a team, becoming ready to respond to Kekeniro’s commands and each other’s movements, to press forward or fall back as required.

They still took hard knocks, particularly Odd Sparrow, the dreadlocked Roegadyn monk, who threw herself into every fight as if it was going to be her last. R’nyath had to respect that all-out, no-holds-barred drive, but watching her get hit in the face repeatedly by a piece of magitek was still painful. Himalrael, the other healer working with Rinala, turned to her after that bout. “I think I am beginnin’ to understand why ye go through potions so quickly.”

“And what of it?” demanded Odd Sparrow, wiping blood off her just-healed face. “’Tis none of your business.”

“I’d ask if ye wished to become travelin’ companions,” Himalrael said bluntly. “I have been searchin’ for someone. I’m offerin’ my abilities as a healer. Seems like ye could use one, save ye some money.”

“I work alone,” Odd Sparrow said. “Normally. But… I’ll think on it.”

“You should be more like the Xaela fellow over there,” Lylydi said, pointing at the black-horned dragoon in Vivienne’s group. “What was your name? He hasn’t gotten hit once. From what I’ve heard of dragoons, that’s unusual.”

“Aghai Kha,” said the Xaela, his stern face not changing expression an iota. “Life on the Steppe is unforgiving; strong warriors have died from the smallest of injuries.”

“I suppose ye’re not interested in havin’ a healer companion, then,” Himalrael said, sighing.

“It is well you have survived,” Achiyo said to Aghai. “Thank you for fighting with us. We appreciate your strength and skill.”

Aghai blinked at her, and it was a moment before he spoke again. “It is my honour.”

It was hard to tell with the man’s rather dark skin, but was he blushing? R’nyath wished him luck if it was from attraction, and not just from being spoken to by Achiyo Kensaki of the Warriors of Light; perhaps someone of her own species would catch Achiyo’s attention, but she’d shown very little interest in anyone as far as he’d known her.

At long last, after a bit of a rest and a snack, they reached the top of the tower, emerging into a golden late-afternoon twilight, the sun shining brightly off the smooth aqua crystal and copious gilding. They were above some low-lying clouds, and R’nyath wondered how many fulms it was exactly to the bottom. He was tempted to run to the side and peer over, see if he could see Revenant’s Toll, but there would be time for that later. The pointed irregular tip of the tower still rose maybe two hundred fulms more above them, and the wind whistled about it.

Ahead, on a magnificent multi-layered dais, a giant and hugely muscled man sat brooding on a crystal throne, the final challenge in their path. R’nyath immediately hated his clothes; immediately hated him. His very body looked gilded, which was slightly horrifying.

The Emperor of Allag did not rise, barely bothering to transfer his gaze to them as they approached him with weapons drawn. “You fight valiantly, mortals, but to no avail,” he said in a bone-rattlingly deep voice. Then he did rise, and it became apparent that he was at least twenty fulms tall. He teleported down off the dais, brandishing a glowing sceptre-staff. “Absolute darkness draws nigh. Soon it will be unleashed, and all shall return to nothingness!

R’nyath saw Kekeniro’s eyes sharpen in wary consideration, but apparently he set that puzzle aside for the time being. “Chuchupa! Get his attention and hold it!”

Chuchupa cackled hysterically. “My pleasure! Always love tacklin’ foes ten times my size!” And there was no sarcasm in that statement. “C’mere, ye big-pantsed buffoon! Ye run away from the circus or what!?”

R’nyath knew he shouldn’t laugh, wasn’t even sure she knew the tower was also called Syrcus or not, but he couldn’t help it; he snickered loudly. R’inwa spared him a confused look before bounding forward to help out.

There was no time to think in that fight, only to react, dodging massively powerful spells, loosing arrows at Xande, and yelling in panic. Fear took hold of some of the adventurers, and despite Kekeniro’s efforts it devolved into a free-for-all, especially for the poor healers. Chuchupa had lost her bid for Xande’s attention, and for now the giant man roared, casting indiscriminately.

“Hold fast!” came a great cry, and R’nyath jumped, for it came from Achiyo; he’d never heard her command so loudly before. “Do not give into fear! Do not lose discipline!” R’nyath caught Aghai staring again, and nodded to himself. He definitely liked Achiyo.

“Thanks!” Kekeniro said, taking the reins back. “Vivienne, defend us for now; everyone, group up in your teams! Trust your comrades!”

There wasn’t space for all the melee fighters to get at their enemy, big though he was, and Kekeniro began to keep up a running rotation of those who should be attacking, and those who should be keeping their distance and making life a bit easier for their healers. It was difficult to hear him still over the ring of weapons and armour and the thunder of spells, including Xande’s own, but for R’nyath it was simple: keep shooting and watch out for dragoons who might block his shot. The Emperor was an easy target, though he seemed to be at least partly shielded from harm – as was to be expected of the most powerful man of an advanced civilization. They’d just have to break his shield.

You should beg for mercy!” Xande roared. “Beg that your death be swift, that you may not witness the darkness that is to come!

“Never!” cried Achiyo and several with her. If that had been meant to quell their courage, it had rather the opposite effect, inflaming them with determination.

“I’ll not suffer another emperor to ruin this world,” Odd Sparrow bit out. “One such fool at a time is more than enough.”

“I hear Emperor Varis is huge and ripped,” Garth said irreverently, casting with a flourish from near R’nyath. “Is it an emperor thing to be huge and ripped?”

“The bloodthirsty ones, looks like,” Lylydi said, bouncing off Himalrael to aim her blade higher.

Then I will feed you to the darkness myself!” Xande grimaced horribly, casting something big. Even R’nyath could feel the swell of aether building around him.

“Group up! Group up!” Kekeniro shouted, voice cracking with urgency, and probably weariness – he’d been yelling all day. R’nyath ran closer to Achiyo and Rinala, huddling with R’inwa, and felt a crushing jolt as the aether hit them, a strange mixture of air, earth, and umbral energy. Rinala gasped and cast Medica urgently, but no one appeared to be dead, and… “Spread out! Spread out!”

Oh gods, meteors again. R’nyath dashed back to his original position and began shooting upwards at the meteors – he’d had good results with destroying them before they hit the floor. But Odd Sparrow and Yllamse were both still intently focused on Xande, one grimly silent, the other giggling and yelling ‘whee!’ as they both struck at the Allagan emperor. He was weakening finally, under the attacks of all twenty-four of them, snarling ferociously, unable to defend physically against all of them, and with his aetherial shield on the verge of collapse.

“Yllamse!” called Eir’wo, brandishing his spear, and Yllamse turned to him with a merry cheer, boosting him into the air even higher than dragoons normally went. The white Miqo’te flipped as he came down, his lance slamming deep into Xande’s shoulder through the shield, and Xande fell to his knees as Eir’wo tumbled off, not quite as gracefully as he went up.

Odd Sparrow was there as the emperor pitched forward, slamming her leather-sheathed fist through his face, and R’nyath saw that face deform momentarily before his body burst into a dark cloud that rapidly dispersed in the cold wind.

No one dared move for a moment, staring, uncertain that he was truly gone; then Kekeniro murmured: “It seems he was mostly aether, at the end, aether bound to an iron will. Almost like a primal…”

“He’s gone!” Chuchupa cried, throwing her axe in the air. “We killed the bloody mad bastard!”

R’nyath slowly lowered his bow, his whole body still vibrating with adrenaline. What a fight that had been, what mayhem. He was very glad it was over.

“I’m glad you called out near the beginning,” Rinala was saying to Achiyo, that cute smile on her face. “I was about to really panic. What made you do it?”

Achiyo glanced about uncertainly. “I could see what was happening, and tried to help. Anyone else might have done the same.”

“I call your bluff, Lady of Light,” R’nyath drawled. “No one else was doing it. It’s because you’re our leader!” She didn’t believe him, he could tell. He didn’t care, it was true.

Kekeniro immediately made a linkpearl call to Cid and the other researchers, and it was perhaps an hour later that they saw their scholarly friends appear in the gate of the rooftop throne court. Most of them were quite out of breath, and several of the junior archaeologists stopped to rub their tired legs, but G’raha had a big smile for them all – and particularly, R’nyath guessed, for him. He liked that smile, and his tail curled happily to see it. Nero was one of the few who was not out of breath, and immediately began wandering about with his little wristwatch aether device, with Cid trailing him suspiciously. The former tribunus was dressed in his red armour, which was now looking rather worse for wear.

“You did it!” G’raha cried. “You defeated Emperor Xande!”

“Empires may rise and fall, but man’s indefatigable spirit ever lives on,” said Doga. “Truly, you are the champions we had hoped for, Warriors of Light. With Emperor Xande now at eternal rest, his dark legacy may be undone.”

G’raha indicated the obvious ripple in the air over the throne, the one that seemed to be leaking a feeling of darkness, the one that lashed and seethed like a living thing. “That distortion… What is it?”

Unei answered him. “The power that Xande sought to obtain comes from the void – the World of Darkness, our people called it. And the true nature of that power was none other than the armies of voidsent.”

Doga continued. “Voidsent feed on aether, as you may already know, and no plane is richer in it than ours. In exchange for their allegiance, Xande entered into an unholy covenant. He would open a gate through which the voidsent could freely enter our world. The covenant, I’m afraid to say, is still in effect. However, being of the emperor’s lineage, Unei and I believe that we can annul it. By his blood Xande sealed his dark pact. By our blood it shall be undone.” He turned to Unei and nodded. “It is time.”

She nodded back, and the resigned look on her face worried R’nyath. “Yes, Doga. Finally, we may fulfill our purpose.”

They turned to the dark ripple that seemed to grow greater before their eyes, and stretched out their hands to it, as though invisible light were flowing from them to block up the gate.

There was an electronic chattering noise, and the adventurers, Cid, and G’raha whirled to see Nero erupt in a wild gale of laughter, staring at his wrist device. “Hahahahaha… AHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, be still my beating heart! For a moment I feared that this outing would end in disappointment, but my readings were not mistaken! Not even the Ultima Weapon compares to this!”

Unei and Doga paused in their casting to stare at him.

“Nophica’s tits, he’s actually mad,” R’nyath muttered to himself.

Cid growled at him. “What are you going on about!?”

The rift spoke, in a distant, echoing roar that was neither male nor female. “The covenant… is everlasting…” And it burst open, a horrible tear in the very fabric of reality, harsh sounds throbbing in their ears. More white-haired false clones appeared about them by teleport, brandishing weapons as soon as they appeared. But he thought they’d killed all of them on the lower floors!

And R’nyath collapsed upon meeting the blank glowing red eyes of the closest one, feeling the Echo seize him, injecting him with memories of Xande, ranting about the void and the death of dreams. What a megalomaniacal arse. And what bad timing to be told about it! It wasn’t like it was anything he didn’t already know!

He came to and felt someone shaking his shoulder, and a welcome voice in his ear. “R’nyath! Pull yourself together!”

He gave a reassuring smile to G’raha, even as he noted that everyone of his fellow Warriors of Light – and even a couple of the other adventurers – were recovering from the vision likewise. Interesting…

But there was already fighting going on, and he grabbed his bow, even as more teleported in. And more, and more, and more, until the rooftop was seething with a veritable army of hostile clones. They weren’t the sturdiest of enemies, but with their numbers they’d be hard put to it.

“Is there no end to them!? What in the seven hells is happening!?” G’raha demanded, and suddenly bent over in pain, clutching his eye, ears laid back. “Argh! Not now, damn it!”

“I got you covered!” Now it was R’nyath’s turn to support him, stepping before him protectively.

Cid picked himself up off the floor after having been struck by a fire spell. “Nero! Were they part of your grand plan, too?”

Nero was making rather a good showing for himself, making R’nyath glad that he was on their side this time. “Save your japes, Garlond! I didn’t put up with your arrogant face to play with worthless clones! Something controls them. A voidsent, and no ordinary one at that.”

A chilling scream cut through their bickering, Unei’s voice, and R’nyath caught sight of Doga being dragged into the portal by a tendril of darkness. Even as he disappeared, more tendrils launched out to target Unei herself, who tried to dodge but was not fast enough.

“Confound it!” Nero cried. “Without them, there’s no way to master the darkness! That power… is mine!” He began to sprint towards the rift, cutting down every clone who got in his way.

“Support him!” Kekeniro cried, and the adventurers who could yet fight began to concentrate their strength on Nero’s path, granting him speed. Nero growled and made a jump for Unei’s hand – and was ensnared in dark tendrils himself.

“Nero!” Cid cried, reaching out to him, but a strangled roar was Nero’s only response.

The rift spoke again. “The covenant shall be honored. I am the Cloud of Darkness. I shall devour your light, and return this world to the void.” It suddenly shrank into nothing, gone as if it had never been there, and the remaining clones collapsed to the ground, dead.

G’raha seemed to recover, straightening up, and turning towards Cid, who sighed in worried frustration. “Damn it, the rift is gone! What are we supposed to do now?” The engineer turned towards the rest of them. “As much as it pains me to leave without them, there’s precious little we can do. Let us return to the Find and consult Rammbroes.”

There was a general chorus of agreement, and they turned together and marched grimly back down the tower.

 

The debriefing with Rammbroes was full of complicated and technical questions, and many of the less-theoretically-inclined adventurers were set loose to eat and rest soon after checking in. Rinala was making her way to the tent she shared with Achiyo when she heard a deeply unhappy noise from somewhere behind a pile of scaffolding. Someone, probably young, probably female, was crying.

She immediately changed course to check it out. She knew only too well how easy it was to cry sometimes, and after the horrific events at the top of the tower, she couldn’t blame the person. But she wanted to comfort them. She made her way carefully past the angled wooden beams, and caught a glimpse of blue clothing. “Hello? You’re not hurt, are you?” Always best to lead with that.

There was a big sniffle. “No, I’m not hurt… physically, at least…”

Rinala wormed her way right in behind the scaffolding, to the stone structure it was built around. “Oh, you were the thaumaturge in our group, ummm…” She was so bad with names, and the girl was pretty quiet and shy, even though they’d been on the same team for several days!

“Linnea,” supplied the Hyuran girl. She probably wasn’t much older than Rinala herself. She was wrapped in warm, cobalt-blue robes, with brown hair down to her chin and big teary brown eyes. Her face was all red and blotchy from crying, especially her nose. She was clutching her staff tightly in front of her, and when she saw who it was, she flinched. “Oh, oh my gosh, you’re Rinala Sweetwhisper! I’m so, so sorry… I know I’m not good enough to be in an expedition with the Warriors of Light… I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I just wanted to help!”

“What are you talking about?” Rinala asked, bewildered. My, what a boost to her self-esteem, though, that people talked about her and to her like she was some kind of person to be reverential of! But now that she’d had that boost, that attitude needed to get out of the way. “If you’re here, you’re good enough. Please, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel I was good enough,” Linnea said, fresh tears spilling out. “And that’s why the good Allagans were taken away, because I let the group down… if you’d had someone stronger, you could have stopped it…”

Rinala heaved a sad sigh. “I’m upset about them being kidnapped too. And Nero, even if he is a jerk. But that wasn’t your fault. None of us knew what to do, even Kekeniro, and he normally knows everything. It wasn’t you, and I really hope you don’t leave, I’m sure the fighting isn’t over. It’ll be better tomorrow, I know it. You won’t leave, right?”

Linnea was hanging onto her words with a rather uncomfortable intensity, though she still seemed loathe to make eye contact. “You mean it? I can stay?”

“Of course!” Rinala said. “Please stay. Let’s be friends!”

Those brown eyes got even bigger. “O-okay. Um. Thanks.”

“We just have to trust in the thinkers, the scholars and engineers, to figure out how to fix it. I know it’s really hard, waiting. I normally fret myself silly even though it doesn’t do anything.” The only reason she wasn’t doing it now was because Linnea needed her not to.

“Maybe it would help if I wasn’t a thaumaturge,” Linnea blurted out. “Casting is so slow, and normally that doesn’t matter, like in guildhests and leves and things, but when the strategist is calling out where to go and I’m having trouble just seeing what he’s talking about, and then running there, I’m not casting, so I’m not hurting the enemies, so I may as well not be there.”

“Oh, I know what you mean,” Rinala said. “I’m trained as a black mage too. But what would you do if you weren’t a thaumaturge?”

“Ummm… I don’t know. It’s really the only thing I’m good at. And I just did it because it was easy…”

“What do you want to do?” Rinala asked, finally finding the right question. “It’s never too late to try new things.”

“But I’m already twenty-two, I’d be so far behind if I picked up another discipline… It feels like I did my whole life backwards.”

“I think you should try,” Rinala said, struck by the fact that she had her life more together than somebody. “Why stick with something that makes you unhappy?”

Linnea looked at the ground miserably. “I… I guess I’m afraid that I won’t be happy doing something else, either, and just waste everyone’s time, and gil, and nothing will change…”

“Something has to change,” Rinala said, trying hard to be as optimistic as she could. “I’m sure it will. Believe in yourself. I’ll try and help.”

Linnea sniffled. “Thanks. I’m sure I’ll feel better about it once we’ve defeated this evil Darkness thing.”

Rinala nodded encouragingly. “Then you can make a plan, and put everything you learned from this quest into it, right?” Linnea nodded. “Did you eat yet? Let’s go do that.”

 

R’nyath spent the next few days patrolling with A-Team, and the evenings and nights he spent in G’raha’s tent, keeping himself occupied while G’raha pored through his tomes and scrolls. Occasionally his new boyfriend used him as a chair, which warmed his heart and his arms, though he tried not to show it as G’raha was usually trying to concentrate at the same time.

At length G’raha would sigh, cast his notes back on the pile, and sag back against him. “I cannot brain anymore, R’nyath.”

R’nyath would wrap his arms around him and snuggle him close. “Rest, gorgeous. Your brain will be better afterwards.” At which point they would talk for a while of nothing important, and kiss, and fall asleep together, taking comfort in the other’s presence, tails twined intimately together.

The fourth evening was different. “It’s frustrating; I feel like the answer lies just beyond my reach. And there are things I know… things about the Fourth Umbral Calamity that I do not recall reading. Yet I know them to be true. And how it all fits together… what solution it might bring to our present predicament… I know not. Which irritates me.”

“You found them out because you’re a genius, naturally.”

“I do not think so… I believe… no… ’tis impossible…” He trailed off, then changed trains of thought abruptly. “And my eye…” he covered it as he spoke. “This mark of Allagan royalty… Long I have pondered why such is my inheritance. The sanguine hue must have some bearing upon my destiny – this much Doga himself admitted. But what?”

He shifted restlessly, and R’nyath laid his chin on his shoulder, listening carefully. “In truth, the more I learn of the Crystal Tower, the less I am myself. Somehow, meeting those two clones has wrought great change in me. I am consumed with remembering… something. Something ancient, but ever so important. And my father’s words echo in my mind, the selfsame ones his father told him: the truth of our eye rests with Allag. Mayhap what I wish to remember and these words are related. Mayhap not. But I know I must learn the truth that history hides from me. I would see this journey – our journey – through to the very end with mine own two eyes.”

“I’ll see it through with you, if you’ll let me,” R’nyath said, and G’raha twisted until he could kiss him, then shifted round more until he could wrap his arms around him.

“R’nyath, oh R’nyath,” he gasped when they parted. “I implore you: allow me to join you beyond the rift!”

First of all, that was a very reasonable request, given what he’d just explained; second of all, how could he gainsay those desperate wise mismatched eyes staring into his own? “It would be a pleasure to have you with us. I’ll protect you in there, no matter what.” An extra archer in A-Team would fit right in, and G’raha might help him look after R’inwa, too. Or perhaps R’inwa would help him look after G’raha.

G’raha kissed him soundly, a hint of tongue and fangs wrapped up in his firm lips, and R’nyath felt his heart beating faster. Whatever the morrow would bring, he was ready for this adventure.

 

The World of Darkness was utterly alien in appearance as he tumbled through the reopened rift from the top of Syrcus Tower, but at least the rules of nature were not in chaos like he’d half expected. There was still an up, and a down, and ground to run on, or at least pieces of ground, floating in an iridescent black sky dotted with unfamiliar stars and splashed with northern lights. Ahead he saw what looked like ancient temples; he wasn’t enough of a scholar to identify which culture, and it seemed even G’raha at his side wasn’t familiar with them.

The leaders, Achiyo, Vivienne, Chuchupa, and Kekeniro turned to survey the other adventurers. As R’nyath looked around, he could see everyone there was horribly nervous, uncertain what they would meet in the actual void. Few mortals ventured here, to use a dramatic phrase, and even fewer ever returned.

Kekeniro took a deep breath and let it out. “Right. We’d better get moving before they try to assault the rift again.”

“With me!” Achiyo cried to her team, being a bit more encouraging, and R’nyath mustered a nervous smile for her. He wasn’t terribly afraid for himself, though perhaps he ought to have been, seeing as he was still the only Warrior of Light to have died since they all met – Vivienne’s previous experience didn’t count. He had many people here to protect, and that counted for far more than his own life. His younger brother was on his left, G’raha was on his right, behind them was sweet Rinala, clutching her staff… he would do everything in his power to keep them safe. Even though slender Achiyo, marching ahead of them in her silver armour, with her magic shield, was much better at protecting everyone than his own lithe, lightly-armoured form.

But there was a rule in the Black Shroud, and it was ‘the best defence is a good offence’, and if there was one thing he was good at, it was being offensive. Wait. No. Anyway, he would shoot anything that got in their way, and be their meatshield as a last resort.

A lot of things got in their way as they wandered through the dim land, calling out for their lost comrades. A massive ahriman, a giant hydra, a collosal three-headed hound that swallowed Chuchupa and Lylydi whole down different throats – to its own detriment, as it turned out. Kekeniro didn’t let go of his girlfriend for several minutes after the hound fell dead before them and she climbed out of it, heedless of the slime that covered her.

But at length they came to a wide round plaza, floating in nothingness, surrounded by what looked like dense smoke. Which boiled before them as they approached, erupting into a titanic emerald green goddess with glowing yellow eyes. She sneered at them, floating in the void just off the plaza.

“We cannot run,” Vivienne said in a low voice. “She will only snuff us out more easily.”

“If she chooses to retreat, it will be difficult to pursue,” Kekeniro said. “It will be up to the archers and spellcasters if she does.”

“I don’t think she’ll retreat,” Nynke Blanskribawyn said. “She’ll be too stubborn about trying to crush us, even when it’s not as easy as she- Watch out!”

Everyone ran to the sides as bright yellow beams blasted from the eyes of the Cloud of Darkness. R’nyath’s tail was fully fluffed, and so were the tails of the other Miqo’te around him.

“I hope you’re right,” Kekeniro cried. “Achiyo, go for it!”

It’s only a voidsent, it’s only a …really big… also kind of pretty… voidsent, R’nyath told himself as he ran desperately to dodge laser beams, tiny thunderclouds, meteors, and the Cloud’s fists. The pretty thing was irrelevant – he’d seen succubuses before, after all – but it was still something he noted. But telling himself it was just a big voidsent wasn’t really helping. Xande had just been a really big person, supposedly, and that had been a fight and a half. This was probably intense enough to be two or three fights. The dragoons were being reckless again, stabbing any part of the Cloud’s body that got close enough to them to reach without falling off the plaza. He wondered if it was really hurting her, or if it just felt a little pokey. He figured the black mages and summoners were doing more right now.

As long as R’inwa and G’raha stayed safe behind him, it would be fine. He could hear Rinala gasping for air as she casted Medica and Cure in rapid succession. Himalrael was cursing under her breath as she casted Protect and Medica 2. A huge broad beam blasted across the plaza, scorching several adventurers, and he gritted his teeth at the screaming.

The Cloud screeched, a jarring noise, and a huge thundercloud began to build in the middle of the plaza as meteors spat out of the sky. This was bad… even with their magical shields, this was getting to be too much to handle…

R’inwa screamed, a sound that stopped R’nyath’s heart momentarily and put the world into slow motion. “R’inwa! Brother!” His mind a muddled whirl free of coherent thought, he turned to see R’inwa falling to the ground, struck by lightning, face slack with unconsciousness. He caught other movement – G’raha, Garth, Naomi – but he turned back to face the Cloud, eyes burning. She would not take his brother – or his boyfriend – or anyone! He would protect them! He scarcely knew what he did as he pulled back on the string, but the bright explosion of aether that shot from his bow surprised even him.

Blinded, he staggered back until G’raha caught and steadied him. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

“Ya sure do,” R’nyath flirted automatically, blinking the spots out of his eyes. “W-what happened?”

The Cloud screeched again, clawing her face, which was peppered with dozens of shining aetherial arrows. She tumbled backwards, into the black clouds, and burst into dark aether. Winds howled, lightning flashed, and the aether blew away to the stars.

The adventurers sagged in relief and weariness, smiling in victory. R’nyath, though, pulled away from G’raha and scrambled over to R’inwa. “Inwa! Inwa, wake up!”

“He’s going to be fine,” Naomi said, one hand channeling healing aether into his brother’s body. “He’ll come around in a moment, I believe.”

As she said, R’inwa blinked his mismatched emerald and amber eyes open slowly, looking up at them. “Thank you, Doctor Naomi… R’nyath? Did we win?”

“We did,” Achiyo said from behind them. “The Cloud is defeated, thanks to R’nyath. Well done.”

R’nyath looked up to see their paladin standing over them, smiling gently, and he shrugged bashfully. “Aw, it was nothing. I just got mad R’inwa was knocked down.”

She inclined her graceful head to him. “It was very impressive.” One by one, the other adventurers chipped in their commendations: Yllamse punched him in the shoulder with a whoop, Garth ruffled his hair, Rinala beamed at him, still shaky from dealing with the chaos herself. Khem saluted him, smiling, Florian and Meanna bowed to him, and Tharash told him “Not bad – for an archer.” R’nyath accepted it all cheerfully and snickered at Tharash.

And G’raha dipped him and kissed him – when no one was looking. “Now I know I can never measure up in martial prowess to the Warriors of Light, no matter how much I might train. Your spirit is frighteningly, intriguingly strong.”

“I’m not going to say you’re not strong when you’re holdin’ me up like this,” R’nyath teased, hooking a knee over G’raha’s hip, and G’raha blushed and nearly dropped him anyway, though whether out of embarrassment or retaliation, he wasn’t sure. “I don’t know if I could have done it without you beside me…”

“Then I am doubly glad I joined you for this expedition.”

“Get a room!” Chuchupa yelled, and the two sprang apart with innocent faces, tails brushing behind their backs.

At length, everyone a little recovered, they began again to search for Unei, Doga, and Nero. Naught else challenged them in the dark land as they wandered deeper in, calling out.

“Where in the seven hells are they!?” G’raha exclaimed at length. “Without them to stem the energy in the tower, our defeat of the Cloud aids our cause little.” He raised his hands to his mouth and called out. “Doga! Unei! Can you hear me? Nero!”

A grunt and some clinking footsteps answered him. “Must you be so infernally loud!? Are you so keen to attract more voidsent?”

They turned hastily to see Nero and Doga trudging wearily towards them. Nero cradled Unei in his arms, but what had happened to him? He looked like a crystal himself, shimmering with an orchid hue, and his eyes were hard and lifeless stones. Also, he was glowing slightly, like the other crystals here. He didn’t even frown as they hurried towards him, though there was still enough energy for sarcasm in his voice. “ …Though I don’t blame you for missing my company.”

R’nyath chuckled. “Heh, you’re not a bad fellow, Nero.”

“What on earth happened?” Rinala cried. “What happened to you? What happened to Unei? Are you all right?”

Nero passed Unei’s body to Aentfryn’s waiting arms. “As all right as can be expected. Unei has simply passed out.”

“But by the gods, what about you?” exclaimed Garth. “Didn’t think purple was your colour.”

Nero wrinkled his nose in disgruntlement, but Doga answered. “Alas, his wounds were too deep, and allowed this foul place entry to his body. Now, the darkness claws at the aether of his very form. Would that we could have protected him… The Cloud of Darkness was bound by Xande’s unholy covenant to bring prosperity to Allagan royalty. The same blood that sealed this contract gives us a measure of protection. I say a measure, for this vow does not protect us from other voidsent. The Cloud imprisoned us here precisely to unleash fiends upon us. We would be dead had Nero not defended us so valiantly.”

Nero smirked at him insincerely. “Mistake not my actions for kindness. I have use for you yet in Eorzea, and simply couldn’t let harm befall you here.”

“And… he’s still a jerk,” Naomi said with a sigh. “Hands up everyone who was surprised.” Rinala hesitantly put her hand half-way up before figuring out that Naomi wasn’t serious and putting it back down again.

Unei stirred and opened her eyes. “Wh-Where…?”

“Unei!” cried Doga. “You are safe – our friends have come for us.”

Unei smiled at him. “H-Have they? Then perhaps, Doga, there is yet hope we may fulfill our purpose-”

A roar of aether interrupted her, black clouds boiling out of the abyss. There was no giant green succubus, yet her voice echoed about them. “Mortals! You have dared to challenge me, and now must feel my wrath!” Her voice was here, there, all about them. “Did you think to destroy me in my realm? Here, I am eternal! I will smother your light and entomb your bones amongst my shadows!

A beam of light sliced across the landscape fulms away from them, but she had missed – for now. G’raha jumped back, ears laid back and tail fluffed. “A-Are we truly so powerless here?”

“I vote we leave now,” Tharash said. Aentfryn set Unei upon her feet.

Doga nodded to G’raha. “As long as we fight the Cloud in this realm, I fear so. And yet… though we may not be able to destroy it, this may be our chance to stop it. If we strike now whilst the Cloud can barely hold her form, mayhap we can sever Xande’s covenant!”

Unei turned to the rest of them. “Yes, and raze the bridge between the Crystal Tower and this foul place once and for all! Everyone, you must flee!”

“All in favour say aye,” Khem said, nodding to Tharash, and several voices responded with varying degrees of humour.

“Wait,” said Chuchupa. “Ye… ye and Doga mean to stay here!?”

G’raha made a negatory gesture with his hand. “’Tis madness! You must return with us! No one but you can save the world from the threat of the Crystal Tower!” The Allagans looked away, unwilling to deny his words.

Another beam fired from the darkness, this one closer. Rinala jumped a fulm in the air with a squeak, Eir’wo dove for cover, Achiyo started towards it, shield outstretched, and R’nyath felt the heat of it scorch his arm. G’raha! G’raha had been next to him, had been caught squarely in the middle of it!

And was lowering his arms cautiously, looking frightened and bewildered but not even singed a little.

The seething darkness howled. “What is this trickery? …Your blood! You too gain protection from Xande’s blood!

The Allagans were the first to close their mouths, nodded to each other, and turned to him. Unei spoke. “G’raha Tia… You are possessed of royal blood! That is why the Royal Eye runs in your line! ‘Tis a gift you have inherited. G’raha – you have been granted authority over the Crystal Tower!”

“Damn,” R’nyath muttered. “What?”

“…I had thought time would consume all of Allag that was,” Doga said. “That a man should still live with his forebears’ blood in this age can be no coincidence. Some person must have planted this gift in your line, and used the highest of Allagan technology to do so. True, the Crystal Tower is not like to recognize you as Allagan, not as you are now. But your Royal Eye bespeaks a simple truth: within you dwells one feeble glitter that will illuminate all, the light of hope!”

“Can we escape now, exposit later?” Vivienne growled. “Hurry it up, at least!”

“Everyone who’s not interested in stickin’ around, follow me,” Chuchupa said. “We’ll establish a for’ard position! See ye soon!” About half the adventurers followed her, and the rest clustered in closer about the Allagans.

G’raha still looked stunned. “But… how should I use this light? Pray, tell me!”

Unei glanced towards the looming cloud of darkness, then extended her hand to G’raha, a strange red flame burning in her palm. She spoke urgently, hurriedly. “You must gain control of the Crystal Tower. We will share our blood with you, G’raha. Though its effects will be but ephemeral, it will bolster the Allagan presence within you.”

Doga extended his hand too. “This is our gift to you, that you may fulfill your destiny. All with the Royal Eye are bound by fate to Allag. Our part in this journey is to bury Xande’s dark ambitions in the past. This was the true Unei and Doga’s purpose, one we have carried into the future. Know that as long as this light of hope survives in you, our souls will still remain – even if our bodies are lost.”

The flames joined as one before G’raha. The Miqo’te hesitated, glancing at the Allagans uncertainly. But they smiled at him, and he nodded with decision, reaching out to the floating flame and taking it in his hand.

It was as if his body ignited for a moment. When R’nyath blinked the spots away from his eyes, G’raha still stood there, looking the same… No. Not the same. For G’raha turned first to look at him, and R’nyath gasped to see both his eyes scarlet as rubies now.

Doga had already turned to Nero. “You must leave us as well, Nero. I am sorry we could not live up to your expectations.”

“I must return to you what is yours, though,” Unei said, handing him his little aether reader device. “You dropped it whilst defending us. What you seek by this instrument may not be possible, Nero. But do not give up. There are many other paths that await you.”

Nero looked away flatly. “…Of course they do.”

G’raha took a deep breath. “Doga, Unei, I… Thank you. We shall never forget you. Now, R’nyath, Nero, everyone, let us quit this place.” He grabbed R’nyath’s hand and began to run, and R’nyath grabbed at R’inwa’s hand and followed. Everyone who remained was sprinting after Chuchupa’s band, indiscernible in the dim distance. Unei and Doga stood their ground, turning to face the darkness together.

The darkness roared louder, enraged. “You shall not escape me, impudent children of light!” Beams shot from all sides about them, and R’nyath nearly stumbled from a near miss. How were they going to get out of this alive!? This was even more intense than the fight they’d had against the voidsent!

Suddenly, the beams ceased, and they fled unimpeded. “They did it,” Kekeniro gasped. “At least… they did… something… don’t know what.”

They caught up to the others and dashed together for the ever-more-bright distant light that marked their point of entry. “There! The glint of light!” G’raha cried. “It… it grows faint! Then the bridge between realms grows fragile by the covenant’s annulment! If that light dies, we are stranded here! Hurry!”

They needed no urging to increase their speed desperately – except, apparently, for Nero, who had fallen behind from weariness and collapsed. Lylydi heard the clatter of his armour and turned to pull him on. “Nero, no! You must move!”

“Leave me!” Nero snarled defiantly at them as one by one, they halted to turn to him. He looked even worse than before. “I don’t need you! If I die here, it’ll be because I bloody well decided to! I failed to master darkness. I’ll not suffer watching a green boy master the tower. Do what you will with it. But remember me, son of Allag! I am Nero tol Scaeva, the man who’ll yet outdo Allag and Garlond!”

That was what you hoped to-” G’raha began, then winced and put a hand to his eye.

“Oh my gods!” R’nyath yelled. “Nero, move your prideful arse!” He started forward but Nero gave him such a glare that he froze in his tracks.

A clear voice seemed to ring out of nowhere, a woman’s voice. “May the Crystal Tower… again be a beacon of hope for mankind.”

“Go, damn you!” Nero bellowed. G’raha stood a moment undecided, then dashed for the faltering portal. R’nyath and some of the others hesitated a moment more, then followed. The light enveloped him and he crashed blindly out onto the roof of the Crystal Tower. He stumbled and rolled head over heels, coming to a stop facing the sky.

Nophica’s eyes, how he’d missed the sky, even the short while he’d been gone. How glad he was to be back.

Cid was counting adventurers, and of course knew who was missing. “Where’s-”

“Nero’s still in there,” Vivienne snapped. “Bloody idiot wouldn’t let us carry him.”

“The portal’s almost closed!” Tharash called. “If we’re going to get back even one of the people we went for, now’s the time!”

And Cid was off, reaching into what was left, grasping wildly into the dark… and hauling a wild-eyed but no-longer-crystal Nero into their midst.

Cid breathed a sigh of relief as Nero pretended he almost wasn’t too weary to stand. “You owe me, Nero,” he said with a grin.

Nero shrugged off Cid’s helping hand and turned away from him sharply, crossing his arms. “The hells I do!”

R’nyath picked himself up to find researchers and Ironworks engineers closing on them with relieved faces. “You are returned unharmed, thank the gods!” said Rammbroes.

Wedge hopped up and down with happiness. “When that voidgate started to close… I had never felt so powerless in all my life!”

“We were running about like madmen, trying to keep the gate open, and I can’t believe the chief just went and dived in!” said Biggs. “But if you’re all sa- Hm?” He counted the adventurers again and frowned.

Wedge said it out loud. “Wh-Where are Unei and Doga? They’re not…?”

“No,” said Achiyo quietly, and sad faces spoke for the rest of them.

“…I see,” Rammbroes said. “I will miss the two of them dearly, but I am happy they fulfilled their purpose.” He looked up at the throne. “We who live on must still attend to the Crystal Tower…though we now have no one able to seal it.”

G’raha stepped forward, an odd tilt to his head. “That is not true, my friend. Unei and Doga have entrusted me with their blood. I can now control the Crystal Tower.”

Rammbroes looked at him, and startled to see his eyes. “G’raha… Yes, I can see it in your eyes. Good. Then let us put an end to this, and seal away the tower.”

G’raha shook his head with a sigh and a droop. “I understand your instinct, Rammbroes, but please, give us a moment to rest. I am weary to the bone, and everyone here is emerged from long battle.”

Rammbroes backpedalled, contrite and genial. “Of course, of course, you have the right of it. Come, we shall leave this place for a spell, and repair to Saint Coinach’s Find.” He waved them all on, and the adventurers began to troop down the tower, spirits lifting at the prospect of rest and food in familiar,  un-voided surrounds.

G’raha hung back, and R’nyath lingered to be with him, shooing his brother down the stairs after Kekeniro. “You comin’?”

G’raha gave him a half-smile. “In a while. I wanted to take a moment to… to process it all.”

“I don’t blame you,” R’nyath said, reaching for G’raha’s hand. “It’s been a busy day.”

His boyfriend shook his head. “No one but you could have succeeded in the World of Darkness, R’nyath, you and all your friends beside you. Would that I could have been of more use beyond the rift. As it stands, I was but a vessel for Doga and Unei’s blood…”

“Don’t joke that way,” R’nyath told him, squeezing his hand. “I already told you I couldn’t have done it without you. You’ll change your tune once you’ve got some food in you.”

“Perhaps…”

“Hey, did you remember the thing yet?”

G’raha was not looking at him, but his expression seemed nearer to pain than anything else. “…Yes, something has come back to me. Gaining royal blood and witnessing true bravery has reminded me of my forebears’ dearest wish.” Then why did he look like that? He shook himself all over, a smile creeping back onto his face, tired and not-quite-sincere as it was. “But we need not speak of these things now. It is not my place to keep you. Pray go on ahead of me; there is something small I would do before I return.” He reached up and brushed some of R’nyath’s hair out of his face, though most of it fell right back in.

R’nyath smiled at him adoringly. “You’ll be down for dinner, yes? I’ll make sure the others don’t eat it all.”

“Go on, then,” G’raha said, playfully pushing him away. R’nyath grinned fangily and pecked a kiss onto G’raha’s cheek before running for the stairs.

 

They’d finally returned to the camp at the Sons of Saint Coinach, and R’nyath was more than ready to shuck his gear and get some rest, preferably with G’raha to cuddle with when he came down. They were still speaking with Cid and Rammbroes when an urgent shout came from the east side of camp, and a panting scholar came dashing up to them. “Master Rammbroes! Master Rammbroes! ‘Tis G’raha Tia, sir! He came into the Crystal Tower, and began ordering researchers out!” He bent over, gasping for air, legs trembling.

Rammbroes jumped forward in disbelief. “What? Why would he do such a thing?”

“I do not know, sir, but he was quite insistent,” said the scholar. “He all but bodily forced me out of the gates. I suppose it’s possible he told one of the others, but I wasted no time in finding out. I thought it best to hasten here and ask your guidance.”

Rammbroes nodded, and turned to Cid and the adventurers. “Very well. Let us go and speak with these researchers, and get to the bottom of this queer business. No doubt G’raha means to seal off the Crystal Tower, but it worries me that he did not breathe a word of his plan to us.”

“No shite,” R’nyath muttered under his breath, his gut churning with fear and pre-emptive heartbreak. Was this how it was going to end? Without one last day together? Without even a goodbye? Rude. He raced ahead of even Achiyo, and no one stopped him.

The labyrinth was empty, as he tore through at top speed. Not many of the others could keep up with him, even the other strong-legged Miqo’te or long-legged Elezen. The great blue royal doors were ahead, still open!

A voice rang out as he sprinted towards it, jolting him and nearly sending him head over heels. “Go no further, my friends! The doors will close ere long.”

“G’raha!” he called, and caught sight of him descending the crystal stairs towards the door with a forbidding expression on his face. “What’s going on? You’re not…” He couldn’t say it.

Rammbroes had managed not to fall too far behind, and had arrived greatly out of breath. “So you are of a mind to seal the tower, G’raha. I know time is of the essence, but all I ask is a hint of your plan. Please, come here so we can discuss this.”

G’raha looked for a minute at R’nyath, sorrow sneaking onto his face, but answered Rammbroes steadily. “…No. My apologies, but I cannot.”

“Why not!?” R’nyath cried. “G’raha, please! Whatever it is, surely we can help!”

G’raha gave him a little smile. “Not this time, my friend. Just as Unei and Doga fulfilled their destiny, so too must I fulfill mine. My blood has awakened me to this fact.” He began to pace as if delivering a lecture, hands behind his back, occasionally turning to glance at them. “As my father told me, the truth has always lain with Allag. Or, rather, ’twas there the wish I must grant was born. You see, not all the world perished in Xande’s calamity. Survivors stood amidst the ruins of Allag, looking to the Crystal Tower. But it was nowhere to be seen. Yet they hoped its spires would again dominate the land, and prayed that the Crystal Tower would be a beacon of hope to people everywhere. Word of this soon reached the only member of Allag’s royalty to outlive the empire: the princess Salina. Salina was moved by the people’s dearest wish. She used the very best of Allag’s technology to give her blood and memories to he whom she trusted most.” He gestured to himself. “That man was my forebear.”

He gave a sigh and dropped his head. “For millennia, we waited. Allag’s art and ingenuity faded. Our royal blood grew thin. But before the last drop could vanish from the realm, the memory of all this returned to me. And now, I must fulfill the wish of the ancients. The tower will shine forth as a new beacon of hope.”

Cid shook his own head. “G’raha, the Crystal Tower’s strength poses too great a threat to Eorzea now. We would need technology as advanced as Allag’s to use it correctly. As things stand, we barely understand the tower’s workings. Hells, we may never fully comprehend them.”

G’raha nodded. “’Tis as you say, Cid. We could wait for someone, someday, to reach the same heights as Allag, but by then we will have lost the royal blood and the means to control the tower. But what if I do as Amon did, and put the tower into a deep sleep?”

“What!? No!” R’nyath cried. “Surely there’s another way-”

G’raha forestalled more of an outburst with a raised hand. “This is something I must do, R’nyath. The tower may only be used once Eorzeans rival the Allagans in knowledge. I will slumber within Syrcus Tower until then, to greet those with the means to open the gates. Then, I will guide them. And thus will the tower shine forth as the beacon of hope it was meant to be. ‘Tis the only way to make the wishes of the ancients come true. The future is where my destiny awaits.” He turned to glance up the stairs… then turned to them and pointed back behind them. “But yours lies outside of these doors. Go. Create a future where hope reigns, and the tragedies of the past are but memories. No one but you can accomplish such things.”

Cid furrowed his brow. “Nothing we say will make you change your mind, will it? Onwards to a brighter future… It won’t be easy, of course. But that’s exactly why we’ll do it!”

“You shall be witness to NOAH’s accomplishments,” Rammbroes said. “Pray keep alive our successes, and forgive us our failures. And may we meet again, my friend.”

“The Twelve keep you till then, Rammbroes. I look forward to learning of your exploits.” Hesitantly, he turned to R’nyath… and smiled. “And you, R’nyath – I know history will remember you, you beautiful idiot. No doubt your heroism will be the star by which I chart my course when I awake.”

“Godsdammit, G’raha,” R’nyath blurted out, and flung himself into G’raha’s arms, kissing him with all his emotionally-riled passion. G’raha clung to him just as fiercely, the tremour in his fingers betraying how he truly felt. How much strength he must have had to hold fast to this course, no matter what it cost him. He tasted salt on his lips and wondered if he’d cried, alone, before they arrived. Why, oh why did it have to be today? Could he not wait even a day? But his tone had been final, and he would not shame either of them by begging.

“That was a good memory to say farewell on,” G’raha murmured to him when they released each other to gasp for air. “I thank you for that.” But he still hadn’t let go of his embrace yet.

R’nyath felt his expression flickering between a comforting smile and tearful sorrow. “What is it they said in that play? ‘Good night, sweet prince’? You are an emperor now, aren’t you?”

“Hardly, but the thought is… you are endearing. And… listen, R’nyath. Find your happiness. Don’t cling to me while I am in here.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” R’nyath said, thickly; though he hardly felt like moving on yet. “But I’m going to tell my descendants about you, if it takes that long. You won’t be alone when you wake up. I promise. Even if it’s not the same as me being there. Some red-headed prince or princess will come for the sleeping beauty.”

“First I was the prince, now I am the sleeping beauty,” Graha said. “You had better go before you say something truly ridiculous.”

“Fine. Sleep well, G’raha.” He kissed him again, lingering, sweetly, then let go with a deep breath. He took one last look at glorious determined crimson eyes, then turned, and with head and tail high, marched back into the Labyrinth, towards the cold air of Mor Dhona. He heard the doors close behind him.

 

Chapter 13: The Beginning of the End

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