This chapter is of course named for the soundtrack of the Fractal Continuum – which is not the ARF, I am aware (the music of which is named Imagination). But while Imagination is all beautifully desperate and heroic and I love it, Unbreakable is one of the most kickass dungeon tunes in the whole game, maybe even my favourite dungeon theme (yes, even over A Long Fall (Twinning dungeon) – that name always reminds me of a ONE OK ROCK song…). Unbreakable makes me want to learn to play drums. But that’s gotta wait because I’m learning bass guitar first.
I wonder if Azys Lla is supposed to be pronounced in a Welsh fashion, with the double-L? Given that, for instance, the level 60 24-mans take naming inspiration from Gaelic (Mhach, Cu Chulainn) I don’t think it’s out of the question. In which case everyone’s pronouncing it wrong. : D
I feel like Thordan’s motivations weren’t really adequately explained in the game? Why he came to Azys Lla (so that his primal form could absorb the Warring Triad? I would have liked better clarification at the time, especially since you don’t fight the Triad until later patches), and what he intended specifically to do once he became a god. It would also have been nice to have a better idea of Lahabrea’s plan, but at least his goals are clear.
I enjoy the in-game canon that the WoL single-handedly one-shots Thordan and knights out of pure rage. (BFG Division starts playing)
Chapter 30: Unbreakable
“Think not of the cost. Whatever you require to modify the Enterprise, you shall have it,” Aymeric had said, and he had been as good as his word. Alphinaud had previously called to their minds Admiral Merlwyb’s aid in creating the barge they had used to defeat Leviathan, but to Achiyo this was a more elegant application of the privilege of the resources of leadership, as she looked at the Enterprise’s new silhouette where the ship lay docked in the Pillars. Perhaps it was more difficult for the city to show its goodwill as a whole, unlike the crafting of the barge where many could aid, since Cid and his crew were the only ones who knew what they were doing.
But then again, they did not necessarily have the goodwill of the city. She was certain that many would support the archbishop in whatever he did, blindly… or not so blindly, even if they knew what he was doing. She did not know much about politics, and certainly not Ishgardian politics, but their leader departing after what might look like an attempted coup from House Fortemps and half the Temple Knights… she certainly did not envy Aymeric in dealing with the remaining High Houses.
The Warriors of Light had split up the morning of their departure, to ensure that their final preparations were complete, and to inform their friends and allies that they were going. Achiyo, as their de facto leader, was headed to the Congregation to inform Aymeric. Such a duty pleased her, not that she could or would admit it to anyone.
The guard let her in readily, as had become normal after the Warriors of Light had distinguished themselves in defence of the city. Aymeric was leaning against the window with documents in his hands, but looked up and smiled to see her. “Lady Achiyo. What can I do for you?”
“Aymeric-sama,” she responded. His smile was so beautiful, and she could gaze at it endlessly, but this was not the time for that. “I am come to tell you we depart for Azys Lla within a bell.”
His smile faded, and he glanced out the window to the blue, blue sky. “So the hour is nigh… Would that I could join you in the coming battle, that I could speak to my father yet again, but I fear it would do absolutely nothing. He will not hear me.” His narrow brows drew together and his lips pressed tightly shut in a look of suppressed pain.
“I would make him listen, if I could,” she told him. “He does not know your worth.”
Her words seemed to ease his grimace. “Thank you.” He turned back from the window with a look of resignation. “But that is not the reason I cannot stand at your side as you fight on our behalf. Alas, the factions of the city are yet on edge, ready to turn on each other at a moment’s provocation. I must keep what peace I can, though they do not trust me even as they used to.”
“I understand,” she said. “But you have sent us Estinien, and his aid is much appreciated.”
“Aye, he is a great friend and ally. Is there aught else I can do to aid you?”
“We are ready,” she said. “You have been more than generous to us, and we are grateful for everything you have done for us.”
“Then may the Fury watch over you all,” he said, drawing himself up with formality, and she did the same. “In consorting with the Ascians and availing himself of primal powers, my father made himself an enemy of all that is good and right in the world. Do whatever you must to end his madness.”
His blue eyes were so intense, alight with his nobility, his justice, his courage. They spoke directly to her heart, and her heart responded. “I- We will. That peace may truly come to Ishgard.” She bowed formally, and he bowed to her in his own style, and she met his gaze once more before she turned and left the room.
R’nyath had headed down to the Brume, to a particular alley that he’d made a note of in past days. There, he found a perch on some scaffolding and waited, humming to himself. The air was cool, but not frigid, with the sun out, and no strong breezes at that exact moment.
There was movement below, and he waited until it was only a dozen yalms away before he dropped down lightly to the alley floor. He looked up to find Hilda pointing her gun at him, and two of her regular pals also looking ready for a fight. “Well, if it ain’t R’nyath Tia. What d’you mean by startling me like that? Nearly got yourself shot for your dramatic entrance.”
R’nyath dusted himself off nonchalantly and waggled his ears. “Worth it. Wanted to let you know that we’re off to stop the archbishop, for good this time. Him and all his knights, grasping at power hidden in the sky.”
She holstered her weapon and gave him an approving nod. “Hm. I’d love to go and give those bastards a good wallopin’ myself – that snake Charibert, especially – but I’ve got to stay here and keep an eye on things. With the archbishop gone, some of the poor folk might get it in their heads to do somethin’ stupid like stormin’ the Pillars. But blood won’t get us what we want, and I need to be around to remind ’em of that in case they forget. Ser Aymeric’s pledged his support, so I’ll work with him.”
“Good on you,” R’nyath said. “He’s a good guy, always means what he says, and he really does want to help. Say, Hilda, would you like to get a drink with me when we get back?”
She shifted her weight, a hand to her chin as she considered, ignoring the scandalized gasps of her friends. “Can’t say as I’d be adverse to such a thing, no. Sure, all right.”
“But, boss!” said the Hyur behind her.
She ignored him. “You’d best be coming back, then.”
“We’ve always come back before!” R’nyath said cheerfully, trying to hide his sudden giddiness, but his tail was making it a hard job, curling up into an attentive question mark. “But a companionable drink always helps my motivation.”
She snorted. “I bet it does. Well, you’d best be off to do your thing, then. Settle that score!”
“At once, ma’am!” R’nyath said, giving her a quick Serpent salute – of course he still remembered from his God’s Quiver days – and turning to depart the alley at a quick, happy trot.
“Ya cheeky brat,” he heard Hilda call behind him, and he waved, giggling.
Tam had not been to the Fortemps Manor since that night, and answered Alphinaud’s linkpearl summons to attend Count Edmont with great reluctance. Cowardice, perhaps. He might have done the selfish thing and gone on ahead by himself, but only Cid could get him where he needed to go, so he could not avoid this. He’d seen the agony of bereft parents before; some of them had nearly died of grief before him. He had no wish to see that and know it was his fault. But then, did he deserve anything else?
Count Edmont was not on the verge of grief-death; all things considered, he appeared to be doing quite well. Perhaps there was some benefit to living a short, strife-savaged life, if it gave one an inner strength like that. Yet he couldn’t help seeing his prince’s father in him, different as they were. He would not be on the verge of grief-death either; like Edmont, he had other children to care for, and a wife… when it counted. It usually helped.
He stood silent in the door of the drawing room, and Count Edmont let him stay there as he began to speak with bowed head. “It feels as if it were only yesterday when first we met here in this chamber. You and your companions came to us as fugitives seeking asylum…and now you bear the hopes of our nation upon your shoulders.”
The butler walked up to the count, and Tam flinched as he saw him carrying the shield. That shattered shield, with its ghastly hole, the scarlet unicorn still intact above it. Count Edmont picked it up and turned back to him, head high now, gaze clear. “My son was a passionate man free with his affections. When Haurchefant asked me to accept you all into our household, he described you in particular as ‘joy incarnate’. At the time, I assumed he was waxing lyrical, as was his wont. But when I saw him with you, I came to see that he simply spoke the truth. You gave him so much joy with your presence and all you did. And for that, I thank you.”
Edmont held out the shield and Tam’s hands did not shake as he took it. He had no perspective here. This man had lost his beloved son, and he stood there with assurance and pride and thanked Tam for giving his son joy, though he had only just begun to know him. Tam had never felt more alien.
He was not joy incarnate, or at least had never considered himself so. Haurchefant was, but ah, he projected onto those around him, as all folk did, especially onto the ones he loved. And perhaps, he could accept the idea that he’d made that bright, brief life a little bit brighter… and briefer.
That threatened to send him disassociating again, and he grabbed onto his sanity with a jerk. Hrulash- Estinien was right. He had no time to spend flailing in madness. He could do that when he was dead.
Wasn’t he already dead?
“…A memento,” Edmont was saying, about the shield. “Were my son here, he would have wished to fight at your side in the battle to come.”
“He shall,” Tam said, the shield heavy in his hands. “His body rests?”
“He was buried near to the Steel Vigil, eternally watching over the city he loved,” Count Edmont assured him, and hesitated. “He bore a curious amulet next to his heart, which we buried with him – was it yours? None of us could read the script engraved upon it.”
“Yes,” Tam said. “Once, it was mine.” That… eased his mind, for some strange, nonsensical reason. He did not elaborate further, and Edmont did not press him. There was not time to go and visit. This would have to do.
Edmont nodded, apparently satisfied with… whatever had just happened. “Take care, my friend, and return to us!”
Tam nodded and slung the shield on his back.
The party that set out was very large – Cid and his two engineers, the eight Warriors of Light, Estinien, Alphinaud, Y’shtola, and Lilidi. Estinien’s armour was still crimson with dried gore, and Achiyo tried not to stand too close to him. Tam had Haurchefant’s shield strapped to his back, and such an act tugged at her heart.
The group that bid them farewell was slightly smaller: Count Edmont and his sons, Aymeric and Lucia, Hilda, Tataru, and surprisingly Urianger, who had run up to them at the last moment to hand Achiyo a piece of white auracite he had found in Moenbryda’s belongings. There were no high emotions; all was too grim for that. “Return to us, all of you,” was all that Aymeric said before Cid fired up the engines and the Enterprise Excelsior gently pulled away from the dock and soared into the sky.
A few bells brought them back to Azys Lla, still wrapped in that murky brown clouded twilight. Though she understood absolutely nothing about it, Achiyo had to marvel at how Cid had fashioned such a magitek device as the aetheric ram, made manifest by the raw, primordial, natural power of Nidhogg’s Eye, and she marvelled at Estinien’s strength as he forced it to his will. Then they struck the barrier again.
It was a tense moment, feeling the surging power building up at the point of that magical horn, seeing the barrier flicker as it tried to counter the power. Achiyo found herself sweating as the sounds and lights grew greater around her. Something was going to give way…
It was the barrier, tearing open before the ram like cloth before a dagger, and as the Excelsior shot through, the rest of it seemed to wink out around them. Azys Lla lay unprotected.
And at that moment, Biggs happened to look over the rail, and cried out. The rest rushed to look down, and saw the great Imperial flagship rising from the clouds behind them. The Excelsior was like a minnow next to a whale, and suddenly Achiyo felt very vulnerable. The Eye had just proven its strength, but it could only attack, in a very specific way – what could it do to defend them against this? The battleship opened fire, and Cid gritted his teeth as he zig-zagged through the clouds.
Despite his efforts, there were simply too many projectiles, and the Excelsior took a hit to its rear fuselage. The little airship rocked and some of its passengers cried out, clinging to anything they could to steady themselves. No one wanted to go overboard here.
And then a giant white feathery winged shape streaked past them, heading in the other direction, roaring as it went.
“Hraesvelgr!?” exclaimed Alphinaud – and then, “Ysayle!”
For the woman had leapt from Hraesvelgr’s back, so tiny at this distance, a mote of silver-blue dust in the wind, and fell through the sky before the battleship. Dragons attended her, shielding her with their bodies, but one by one they were torn apart by the cannons. But they gave her the time she needed. At the moment the last one fell, that icy cocoon shattered, revealing Shiva in all her power. Projectiles that would have struck her, or the Excelsior, froze as they flew and exploded prematurely. Shiva spun and danced, twirling effortlessly around the Imperial ship-
-until one projectile struck her in the back. Rinala gasped by Achiyo’s side to see it, but Shiva recovered and swooped on to form her own self into a great missile of ice, aimed at a head-on collision with the flagship’s prow…
There was a great explosion, and the whole ship shuddered. But though it was now on fire and slightly off-kilter, it could still fight, and Shiva was spent, a tiny glittering figure before that hulking mass. Cannonfire struck her, and impacted by greater force than anything the Warriors of Light or Ravana could have done, Shiva shattered, and Ysayle’s body tumbled downwards through an expanding blue-green aurora of ice aether.
“No!!” cried Alphinaud, reaching out to her, but what could they do? She had sacrificed herself that they might come to their goal alive.
Even Ysayle’s body shattered into ice, and with a last shimmer of aether, anything that might have marked her existence on Hydaelyn was gone.
“This aether…” Y’shtola said. “It was a Crystal of Light. She, too, was one of Hydaelyn’s chosen.”
Estinien stepped to the rail, his voice as soft and grave as Achiyo had ever heard it. “Fare you well, my lady.”
The battleship did not pursue them to the landing site Cid chose in haste, so they had a breather to collect themselves – and to learn what they could of their surrounds. Estinien flatly refused to have anything to do with machines, and Achiyo felt some solidarity with him – this was completely beyond her. Cid and the engineers opted to remain with the Excelsior to repair her and ensure that they might be able to leave this place once they had done what they had come to do, so they could not aid the warriors as they struck out to find the trail of the archbishop following the orb Wedge had named Gilly. But Chuchupa and R’nyath were happy to poke every glowing magical object they came across, even if that occasionally resulted in their party being assaulted by hideous, violent beasts released suddenly from imprisonment.
The more they saw, the more confused Achiyo became. The facility, according to the mechanical orb that was their guide, was easily as old as Tam, which still seemed unimaginably ancient to her – no, not that it was as old as Tam, that it had last been serviced when Tam was born. How much older than that it was, the orb did not volunteer. She wondered how it felt for Tam. It seemed to have fallen into far greater disrepair than the fragments of Dalamud, even if the steel and glass structures were as well-preserved as if they’d been built yesterday.
That aside, what was the purpose of this floating land, cut off so completely and utterly from the world that not even the sun warmed it through its shroud of brown clouds? The Allagans pursued power above all else – what power did this gain them, to play with creatures’ lives as though they were clay dolls, to hold primals imprisoned indefinitely, as Bahamut had been inside Dalamud? She was glad she did not understand.
Though it would have been reassuring to grasp the meanings behind the lights, gauges, symbols… she wondered if it was strange to accept it at all. Nothing in her past as a rural samurai’s daughter, or as a mercenary’s apprentice, before she came to Eorzea, had at all prepared her for encountering such wonders. She’d not seen a metal building outside of the Imperial castri, and those had been far-off, mysterious, forbidden – and even to her ignorant gaze, far less elegant than the Allagans they imitated, now that she had seen Allagan technology several times. To her the ancient magitek simply seemed like enchantments out of a legend, but Kekeniro and Aentfryn shook their heads when she asked; apparently this was very powerful, very complicated, very specific magic. Both the scholar and the summoner were taking notes.
Well, if only those two could even begin understand it, she questioned that the archbishop would comprehend anything at all. What had brought him here!?
Hours after their landing, they finally stood upon the Flagship, the greatest, most mechanical isle in the floating complex. They had fought the Empire on their way – and left Estinien, Alphinaud, Y’shtola, Lilidi, Aentfryn, and Chuchupa to hold the line. Estinien had given the Eye to Tam, saying it should yet have enough energy to be of use to him. Tam was currently acting the way he always had, but still she worried for him the closer they came to their goal. He had proven to be mercurial, and his mood now might not be what it was in half a bell, let alone when they came face to face with the archbishop.
At least they had regained Hydaelyn’s Blessing of Light, and gained Midgardsormr’s favour.
They stood before a great gaping door into the Flagship that the node had opened for them before becoming inert, and within glowed many pale blue lights, she could see already. She turned to the others with courage in her heart and gestured grandly. “We do not know what lies ahead, nor how far within we must go. We do not know what the archbishop seeks, or what he will do when he reaches it. All that I know is that we will go, and we will not stop until we succeed. No matter what lies in our way, Imperial soldiers or Allagan monsters or the archbishop’s primals, for we together are unbreakable.”
Everyone straightened up and gave her a determined look. “Aye!” R’nyath cried, on the verge of song. “We’re the Warriors of Light, fighting for Ishgard! Fighting for Haurchefant!”
“If we don’t know where we’re going, how are we going to find him?” Vivienne asked.
Kekeniro looked up at her. “I can sense the aether flows within this structure. There’s something at the heart of it, something powerful.”
“It’s the best chance we have,” Achiyo said. “We will follow your lead.” She cast one more glance back at the brown sky, trying to see if the others might be coming, but there was no sign of them. So she turned with squared shoulders and drawn sword, and led the way into the mysterious, dimly glowing metal caverns.
They were not the first to have entered; she saw Imperial bodies and the wrecks of Allagan machines. Regula van Hydrus must have escaped from Chuchupa and Estinien and come on ahead with some of his men, for he had himself stated that fighting the Warriors of Light was not his goal. But there were still plenty of Allagan machines to attack them, swarming from all over the facility and into their path.
The most unsettling thing she noticed were the sounds. When they were not in battle, the place was strangely quiet, but it was not a peaceful quiet, not to her. There was a constant distant humming, of several pitches, and occasionally soft beeps like melodious, ominous cicadas. The air was very still. Not motionless, for they were in large spaces, but it was strange to be in such a large space and not hear the wind at all. To be surrounded so entirely by metal that both reflected sound and seemed to swallow it up.
Early on, they had a scare. They were fighting a number of metal devices that had popped out of the very floor before them, when Kekeniro cried out and a huge beam of blue-white light erupted before Achiyo. She staggered back with a scream, and when it passed – and she could see again – all the things they had been fighting had been obliterated. But Achiyo was looking around for another dragon, for that had been a spell like Akh Morn-! “Take cover!”
“It’s okay! It’s okay!” Kekeniro cried, waving his arms. “It’s just me!”
“What did you do!?” Vivienne demanded angrily. “Summon Bahamut?”
“I wish- I mean, no, I’m just borrowing some of his power,” Kekeniro said. “It’s a spell called Deathflare, that I can cast when I’m in the Dreadwyrm Trance, and-“
“Sorry, buddy, can you say that in Eorzean before Vivienne smacks you?” R’nyath said.
Kekeniro blinked. “I can’t do it very often. But I learned it so that we could take down those primal-infused knights faster. It should go through them like fire through a haystack.”
“Good,” Vivienne said.
“That is impressive,” Achiyo said. “I remember when you did something of the like when fighting Bahamut.”
“You’re all right? It doesn’t hurt you?” Rinala asked.
“I’m fine.” Kekeniro smiled at her. “Are you all right, solo healing us all?”
“I’m doing okay,” Rinala said. “Thanks for checking.”
“Are we ready to go then, now that we’ve established we’re not being attacked by another dragon?” Vivienne asked. “Warn us before you do it next time!”
“I’ll try,” Kekeniro said. “Anyway, just keep straight ahead for now.”
Deeper they descended, and deeper, down broad ramps and small magitek lifts, following Kekeniro’s directions. She might have been frightened of her surrounds if she knew what to be afraid of before it sprang out at her. The machines and creatures they fought towered over her by yalms, wielding weapons suited to their size, and the very walls and floors seemed to be arrayed against them all. But she was strong and quick, her shield and its enchantments were holding, Rinala was doing marvellously with her healing, and her other companions were as powerful as she. There was no space to be afraid – only to fight.
They caught up to Regula, fought him, and forced him to withdraw. As they went, the space around them changed, the ambient glow in the vast artificial caverns changing from black and blue, to orange and red, and finally to a cold greenish-white, emanating from a large dome structure segmented into hexagons. That was their destination, Kekeniro said.
The interior of the dome was not what she expected. Something had… grown over a large part of the floor and walls, something fleshy and pulsing. But there was little time to be horrified, disgusted, or mystified by that, for a dark portal appeared before them and two masked Ascians stepped out of it.
“The champions of Hydaelyn,” growled Lahabrea. She did not know his face, for he had used Thancred’s before, but the voice was the same, and she could not forget it. “As I said, Igeyorhm.”
“Tell me,” said the woman beside him, the one who had helped steal the key, “why do you despise the primals so? They are the embodiment of mortal will – of mortal desire.”
“That’s almost a good question, if you put it that way,” Kekeniro said, and Achiyo blinked; she had not heard such insult from the gentle-spoken man before. “I know you know the answer, though.”
Igeyorhm snorted. “Plainly, you desire a foe to despise. And ‘tis well that you do, for it is from the vortex of ceaseless conflict that Lord Zodiark shall be reborn.”
Lahabrea spoke again. “Through the Joining, the world shall become whole again. Then all shall be as once it was – as it should ever have remained.”
Both Ascians reached to the unseen heavens with a grand gesture, and brought a hand across their faces, transforming their masks from mere physical objects to sinister aetherial glows. “For the glory of Lord Zodiark,” said Igeyorhm.
“Your meddling ends here and now, Warrior of Light!” Lahabrea cried, and cast a familiar spell of darkness at them.
There was no time to use the auracite; she had to defend. They had to wear down their enemies before they could destroy them.
Fire and ice surrounded them, light and darkness, yet they fought through. Would that they could rescue the Ascians’ innocent hosts, but Lahabrea had escaped when they rescued Thancred. Trying the same here would only invite another battle in the future, and another victim sacrificed.
And then the Ascians, frustrated with how the Warriors of Light withstood them, merged their bodies into one being of even greater power – what did that mean for the host bodies? She gave up trying to think about it, because she had enough to consider with avoiding those spells, following Kekeniro’s directions, and attacking the giant shrouded masked figure.
“Deathflare incoming!” Kekeniro shouted, and that beam of light blasted the giant Ascian.
The figure reeled, howling in pain. “What walls are these? Damn you, Hydaelyn!” The great Ascian split in two, and Lahabrea and Igeyorhm fell to the floor, looking weary beyond moving.
Lahabrea snarled, gasping for air. “That they might regain the Blessing of Light I had foreseen… But they have grown so strong in it as to deny us our power.”
Igeyorhm looked to him. “Let us withdraw, Lahabrea. That power remains to us, at least.”
“Stop them!” Vivienne shouted, and Achiyo went for the auracite still in her belt pouch, hurling it at Igeyorhm with all her strength just as she began to… it was not a teleport, was it, that journey between realms? Whatever it was called, she would not get a chance to do it.
“Impossible!” the Ascian cried, before she dissolved entirely, her dark aether absorbed into the white crystal. The auracite pulsed with a light, quick like a nervous heartbeat.
“Tam! The Eye!” cried Kekeniro.
Tam paused. Certainly, this was not the archbishop, nor Zephirin. Did he truly care about defeating the Ascians, even at the best of times? But he pulled it from his belt and held it up, drawing the aether from it to form a spear of light, as Achiyo herself had done only a few months ago in Minfilia’s office to destroy the Ascian Nabriales. This time no one would have to sacrifice themselves to temper the blade.
The auracite shattered, and they heard a scream from its scattering shards.
“Whoo!” came a cheer from the entrance, and Achiyo turned to see Chuchupa and Aentfryn come running up. The others were not with them… But Chuchupa would not be so cheerful if they were in danger. “Ye got one!”
Lahabrea curled his lip as he crouched. “So! You harnessed the Eye’s power… A pity you spent it all. What will you do now, heroes?”
“Shite,” Chuchupa said.
She could see his body trembling with weariness. He was helpless before them. But they could not kill him. They had no more auracite, and Lahabrea would escape them with yet more of a grudge, more fear and hatred and knowledge of them…
“So, not even the vaunted Warriors of Light can unmake an Ascian without relying upon mortal contrivances.”
Achiyo whirled, side-stepping to keep Lahabrea in view, and saw Archbishop Thordan slowly entering the dome with his twelve knights behind him in two lines. The first four bore a large silver coffin. Why did they bear a coffin? It looked Ishgardian, not Allagan. Had they borne it all the way from the city?
“You!” came a general chorus from the Warriors of Light… and Lahabrea.
Achiyo heard a strangled sound from Tam, choking hatred, before Kekeniro touched his knee. “Wait. Trust me. Wait. We act as a team.” Tam was near-vibrating, and she felt his rage on the thinnest of hair-triggers, but he did not spring.
“In the distant past, King Thordan and his knights twelve fought and defeated Nidhogg,” Thordan declaimed, as his knights laid the coffin upon the ground and arrayed themselves around it ceremonially. “Though the victory cost them dear, they were rewarded with a great prize: the dread wyrm’s eyes, both of which have since been held in the Holy See’s safekeeping.” He gestured to Tam. “The eye you possess was Nidhogg’s left, and long has it served as the source of the Azure Dragoon’s might. As for its twin…” He struck his staff upon the ground, and his knights knelt to open the coffin. Achiyo could not see inside very well, for its sides were quite tall, but she caught a glimpse of silver armour… and something crimson embedded in it. “It has lain here, joined to the person of Haldrath, the first Azure Dragoon. For though he learned to harness its power, he was ultimately consumed by it. Even in death, his body decays not – a pitiful end for a fabled hero.” He turned to Lahabrea. “My Ascian friend. Long have you and your kind sown the seeds of chaos by teaching mortals the secrets of summoning. But if you assumed that we would meekly serve as your pawns, then you are gravely mistaken.”
Lahabrea stumbled to his feet, still tottering and unsteady. “You would raise a hand against us!?”
“You’re surprised?” Vivienne demanded.
Thordan raised his staff, and the jewel in its ornate head began to glow with aether. “By taking unto my flesh the soul of the legendary King Thordan, I am become a god!“ Light enveloped all of Thordan’s form, light that swelled monstrously. Achiyo’s eyes widened at the increasing size, ten fulms tall, twenty fulms, fifty before it ceased to grow – and coalesced into a gigantic armoured figure. Distantly, it reminded her of Ravana, bulky but with lines both flowing and jagged. A scarlet cloak billowed behind him. He reached out over the coffin, and the body inside dissolved into brilliant light which formed into a bright silver sword with the Eye set into the crossguard. He thrust it towards the ceiling, then brought it down into a ready stance. Kami, that blade was at least thrice as long as she was tall. Probably more. “A god who knows not cessation, whose being is sustained by a millennium of fervent prayer and the Eye’s nigh-bottomless reservoir of aether.”
“What!?” Lahabrea gasped. He had not anticipated this?
Thordan spoke, and his voice was an unearthly bass rumble that shook the air with menacing power. “Your contempt for man has proven your undoing, Ascian. For my first act as god-king, I do hereby sentence you… to die!” He lifted the sword, which began to glow brightly, and swung it at Lahabrea. A wave of light aether crashed out of it and into the Ascian before he could run or teleport, and he screamed as his body was torn apart.
And the darkness of his soul was drawn into the Eye of Thordan’s sword, all of it.
“Holy shite,” R’nyath breathed.
“Gods feed upon aether,” Thordan said quietly – quietly for his new form. “It matters not what form that aether takes. Ascian souls are no exception. With this power, I shall put an end to a thousand years of conflict. Be they sown by Ascian, dragon, or primal, wheresoever the seeds of chaos threaten to quicken, I shall excise them with my divine blade and bring order to the world.”
“You can’t-!” Rinala began, but then stopped in terror.
He turned to them, those glowing eyes in that fearsome helm fixed upon them all. “I am become that which you abhor, Warriors of Light. If you would take issue with my godhood, I shall answer you with my blade.”
“Brothers!” Zephirin cried to his knights. “The time is come to call upon the true power of the Heavens’ Ward!” As one, they drew their weapons, and transformed as they had seen before. Now between the Warriors of Light and the exit were thirteen primals, each of them huge in stature and ready for a fight.
“Great, now they’re all powered up,” Vivienne grumbled quietly.
“It’s fine,” Kekeniro said. “All part of the plan.” Achiyo was not enthusiastic about slaying an old man in cold blood, but she was not really enthusiastic about this plan either. But she would believe in Kekeniro’s confidence.
Thordan planted his gigantic sword in the floor before him and rested his hands upon it. “Fight me if you will, Warriors of Light. I care not. All who stand against me will be destroyed – be they servants of the Darkness or the Light. By my blessing shall all men be sanctified, and an endless era of peace begin. Vice and conflict shall cease to be.”
Achiyo took a step forward, her five fulms against his fifty. Only now did she understand… and what she understood frightened her worse than Thordan’s size and strength. “Will you hear me speak, before we must do battle?”
“I will grant you this boon, small warrior. It matters not, in the end.”
As Aymeric had said, his mind would not be changed. He was too far gone, too drunk on the power he had consumed. But she had to try, for his son’s sake. “This power ill becomes you, Archbishop. It ill-becomes anyone. Nor will this bring peace.”
“It shall,” he said with utter confidence. “Once those who oppose me are expunged, all shall come to follow me, for I am the way and the truth!”
Tempering, was what he meant, whether he knew it by that name or not; all his truth was built on lies but he would never admit that. “Of their own free will? Or else what? What worth is virtue if it is coerced? That is not peace. That is death. You would become a tyrant worse than any Emperor should you follow that path. And should you not wish to be a king of puppets, then one by one, each of your people will make a mistake, for they are mortal, and how will you punish them? You would become feared and hated in every free heart, the more so for every freedom you deny. You yourself are imperfect, oh Archbishop; you yourself transgressed against your own laws. Are you truly worthy of the power you seek? And yet good came of it, for your son is a worthy man, the best of men. You do not appreciate him as he deserves. And he too is imperfect, like any other.”
The giant scoffed with a sound like thunder. “My son is a romantic fool. Should he oppose me upon my return, he shall be destroyed with the other transgressors.”
Aymeric had no idea that any of this was happening. If they lost here, and Thordan returned in this guise… “He would be here to beg you with his own words to reconsider your course, but he cleaves to his duty to the people. He loves his people! What love have you in your heart?”
“Love has little to do with justice, and your love for him will not save you. It has in fact doomed you, driving you here-“
“Ye shut yer gob,” Chuchupa interrupted, even as Achiyo flushed. She did not know if his words were based on the awful rumours that still circulated, or if she had just given her hidden feelings away with her passionate speech, but his rejoinder had struck too close to home. “Ye’re jus’ jealous!”
Tam shoved his way forward ungently. “Pointless, all of this talking! You murdered my friend, a man who should not have died. I have never killed a Spoken before in all my long years, but today I will begin – with you! May your goddess greet you with scorn!” Lance in one hand, the Eye in the other, broken Fortemps shield on his back, he was trembling with rage. There was no holding him back any longer.
Thordan brandished his giant blade. “You reject my divinity, yet what have you to offer my people in its stead? Bitter truth? Virtuous suffering? No matter. If you believe your cause just, I call upon you to defend it with your life!”
The knights raised their weapons in salute and began to sing a hymn. Tam screamed loud enough to drown them out, and charged. “ZEPHIRIN!”
If she were Zephirin, she should be terrified to hear such unbridled rage directed at her. A just cause? Tam’s cause was vengeance, justice be damned. But she was Achiyo, and she was terrified that Tam was going to immediately become diced into fishbait. Kekeniro yelled out orders, and she sprinted forward in Tam’s wake to Flash light at the Heavens’ Ward, to blind them, to strike at Thordan’s ankles and draw his attention toward herself.
“Your feeble light shall fade before my brilliance!” Thordan taunted them. “My knights, to arms!”
All in the chamber was chaos. Tam was unstoppable, weaving between their attacks blindingly fast. Ever he hounded Zephirin, heedless to anything Kekeniro said, and so their tactician adjusted. “Dragoons incoming due north, southwest, southeast, dodge them! Hit the casters! Keep the axe-man away from Tam, watch your backs- R’nyath! Shoot the meteors!”
Besides Tam at this moment, the Warriors of Light were a honed team, but so were the Heavens’ Ward, and they outnumbered and outpowered the Warriors of Light by a long stretch. And that reckoned without Thordan himself, who struck at Achiyo with his gigantic sword, occasionally turning to sweep huge aetherial shockwaves across the chamber; Achiyo saw what he was doing, and screamed “Sword!” when he did. She did not see anyone fall from it, but she had plenty to think about herself, fending off knights with axes and spears from all sides and dodging around Thordan’s blade. She was forced to parry a couple times, and the cry that was wrung from her with the impact each time apparently made Rinala think she was dying.
“You think to withstand the fury of my divine will?” Thordan boomed at her. “Kneel now before the unfettered glory of the Eye!”
“Never!” Achiyo shot back, and charged with a fury stronger than fear, her heart thrumming within her chest.
And then he kicked her in the face, sending her tumbling across the floor with a scream; she rolled aside just in time to yank her tail away from a falling fireball and scrambled to her feet, blood streaming from her nose and mouth. She could not breathe, wheezing through her mouth, seeing double – until Rinala’s Benediction made it to her, restoring her shattered nose and her vision. Then she had to dodge Thordan’s blade again, but she dodged forward, striking at the weak points in his armour – not that it would make a difference, primals were equally well armoured, equally vulnerable, in every part of their form. He did not like her so close, and tried to kick her again, but she was wary to that now, casting magical defences about herself in case she slipped up.
“Chuchupa, get Charibert!” Kekeniro called. The rest of the battlefield was a jumbled flicker of towering figures, movement and blades and magic; that he could keep track of it all was miraculous.
“Which one’s he?” Chuchupa called back. “Ain’t like they have nametags!”
“Get the black mage! This one!” Kekeniro shouted at her, sending Ifrit-egi streaking towards one of the magic-wielding Heavens’ Ward. A moment later, Deathflare struck the knight, yet he still stood after.
“Adelphel! Janlenoux! Protect Charibert!” Zephirin cried, his voice distorted, parrying lunge after lunge from Tam. “Guerrique, go after that squeaking mouse!”
The two knights jumped in front of their companion, one to fight Ifrit-egi, the other to fight Chuchupa. “With me, Ser Janlenoux!” “Ever and always, brother!” They began to glow.
“Chuchupa, Holmgang now!” Kekeniro shouted, a touch of anxiety coming through, running away from the axe-wielding knight at full tilt, and Chuchupa swore as she anchored herself – just before the two knights leapt upon her and Ifrit-egi, battering them both with a horrific flurry of attacks. Ifrit-egi evaporated under such an assault, but Chuchupa was still standing – though she was bleeding heavily in the arm from where he’d made it past her guard.
“Never mind, we can’t focus them down – they’re supporting each other’s aether!” Kekeniro said, summoning Titan-egi from behind the relative safety of Vivienne’s greatsword. “We have to defeat them all at the same time!”
“O Ascalon!” cried Thordan above her. “Drink deep of the power of slumbering gods!” He lifted his sword, ignoring her entirely for a moment.
The chamber changed colour. She did not know what he had done, but he had somehow activated something within the Allagan facility, and now even more aether, massive quantities of it, was surging through the structure, and he was absorbing it through the sword.
There was too much going on. Their enemies were too powerful, and increasing their power even as they fought.
It only increased her fury, and her anger came welling out of her. “My friends! We fight for Ishgard! They fight for themselves! We shall not let them win!”
Her friends roared agreement, all but Tam, who had fought Zephirin to the centre of the chamber with death in his eyes and no words for anyone. He hardly seemed to touch the ground, so quick he moved.
“You defy the only rightful god! You shall fall, as did your ally!” Zephirin taunted Tam, and drew back his arm – forming a lance of light exactly like the one he had struck down Haurchefant with.
For answer, Tam howled, a truly demented sound, and from his body burst out aether like a dragon’s head. He leapt, and Achiyo could not see through the resulting explosion. Zephirin’s lance of light shot upwards, where Tam had been, and stuck in the ceiling before dissipating.
The light cleared and there was Tam, unwounded, hanging onto his own lance as he drove it with the weight of his body further into Zephirin’s chest. Zephirin reached up, faltering a little, to grab the lance and try to pull it out of himself. “Brothers-“
“Tam!” shouted Kekeniro, but a dragoon knight shot by before he could finish his warning, and Tam was sent flying to the other side of the chamber.
Somehow he stood; somehow he had avoided being impaled by that too. Zephirin pulled the lance from his chest and snapped it in pieces. “Let us settle this once and for all…”
“I shall end your vain struggle!” Thordan boomed from the other end of the room, and stabbed his violet-glowing sword into the floor. “To me, my knights!”
“Group up, group up!” Kekeniro called. “Big heals, all the shields, big hit coming in!”
‘Big hit’ was an understatement, as a magic circle appeared under them that filled the entire room, as the aether whirling around them appeared as if they were among the stars gazing at a shining world. The knights teleported away from combat and appeared in formation in a ring around them, singing their hymn more strongly than ever. Winds buffeted them, Thordan raised his sword high, his knights raised their weapons with him, and Achiyo felt magic blasting through her, pure, brilliant magic, driving her to scream with agony though none could hear it over the deafening rush of aether. Then everything shattered around the Warriors of Light, and it was over.
When Achiyo’s eyes cleared, Thordan and all his knights stood stock still for a moment – for not one of the Warriors of Light had fallen. Vivienne coughed, Rinala sobbed as she cast Medica, and Achiyo shook her head violently to clear it, but they were still standing, still blazing defiance at this self-proclaimed god.
“Y-you survived my divine reckoning!?” Thordan cried. “Impossible! No…!” He stumbled forward, swinging his huge sword, absolute desperation in his movements. It was easy to dodge him with all the adrenaline singing in her veins.
His knights called out to him with shouts of “my king!” but to no avail; the old man was panicking. Achiyo wondered how long it had been since he had fought hand-to-hand with anyone, if ever he did in his youth.
“He’s weak!” Kekeniro said hoarsely. “Hit him with everything you’ve got, and they’ll all unravel!”
“I… I cannot lose… I have the power…” Thordan gasped, turning and trying to hit Kekeniro, Aentfryn, anyone. They backed away from him, attacking him from range. The knights were clustering around him, trying to defend their leader, but he was a very big target and their efforts were vain. “This is the power of Light?”
He slipped to one knee before Achiyo, raising his sword with the last of his strength… and it slipped from his grasp, landing with a mighty clang to the metal floor. The ordinary, mortal Archbishop fell to his hands and knees, and his knights followed suit, utterly spent.
“How… how can this be? A millennium of prayer and the Eye’s power combined – and still you stand?”
“For Haurchefant,” she said.
He looked up at her, and his eyes widened with absolute terror. What he saw in her, she did not know, but she was sweating and panting, covered in blood, and with all her stormy battle-heightened rage in her eyes. “Who- what are you?” he gasped, and shattered into aether, drifting and dissipating into the air. All that was left of the thirteen men was the massive sword with an Eye embedded in it.
Tam growled for half a second, before he cut it off abruptly like he had been choked and shook his head, blinking. He’d drawn a dagger to continue attacking with, but sheathed it and went to collect the pieces of his lance.
Achiyo followed him. “It’s done.”
“It is,” he said, and turned to smile at her. There was something unsettling about it, and not just because less than a minute before he had been an absolute demon, but it looked like Tam himself believed it was a genuine smile, so she relaxed. “Good job, you.” He patted her shoulder and picked up the last piece of his lance. “I’ll need to fix this.”
“Ah, it’s made o’ mysterious materials not found on this star?” Chuchupa guessed.
“No. I just don’t want anyone else putting it back together.”
Achiyo turned to the group, wiping off her face with a cloth. That really was a lot of blood. “Is everyone truly unharmed?”
“We had a couple rough spots,” Aentfryn said, and she saw with concern a bloody patch on his robe. “Urselmert had to resort to Living Dead for a moment, and the catboy near lost his tail – and I owe my life to Rinala.”
“Don’t remind me, it nearly gave me a heart attack when that dragoon stabbed you,” Rinala said in a quavery voice, rubbing her eyes. “We’ve had some difficult fights. But that one was the hardest yet.”
“We say that every time,” R’nyath said in a cheery tone. “But we all get to go home again! Which is good, I’ve a date to keep.”
They heard the sound of footsteps coming from outside, and turned to see Estinien walking up.
“It is over, then?” he asked. “I had hoped that mine would be the hand to end it… but knowing you all, there was little chance of that.”
“Sorry, Tam was on a mission,” R’nyath said.
Tam hefted the Eye and tossed it casually back to Estinien, who caught it just as casually. “’Twould seem the Eye has served you well,” he said. And he turned his gaze upon the giant sword.
“That is apparently what’s left of Haldrath,” Kekeniro said. “Thordan turned him into a sword to wield in his primal form – for the sake of the other Eye, which was melded to him. You were wondering about that earlier, weren’t you? After we talked to Hraesvelgr?”
“Aye,” Estinien said, crouching beside the giant sword. He reached out and tugged at the embedded Eye, and it came away in his grasp. “The twin… At long last…” He stood and looked at them. “All that remains is to take them beyond the reach of man and dragon both. With this task accomplished, my toils shall finally be at an end.”
The Eyes lit up. Estinien staggered, enveloped in aetherial flame. And a voice boomed in draconic tongue: “Thou hadst done well to resist mine influence, bathed in my power and blood as thou wert. Alas, in thine anticipation of comfort, thou hast lowered thy guard!” Estinien threw his head back, and something roared… They were calling to him, reaching out, but they could not reach him, they were too worn out to break through the rush of energy flowing from him, and the voice went on. “The keening of my fallen kindred… Their smouldering desire for vengeance… Mine eyes have partaken of a thousand years of pain – a pain which I shall bestow upon thee. Drink deep of my rage, mortal… AND BECOME ME!”
Estinien screamed, and something swallowed up the scream – in a blink, there stood before them a Great Wyrm, black as night, with vast curving horns, and two crimson eyes. Apparently he paid them no heed, spreading his wings and taking off into the Allagan facility, and they stared after in mute shock. There was a crash, as if he had just made a hole in the wall to escape through, and everything shook and continued to shake.
Midgardsormr materialized next to them. “Nidhogg, my child… What hath thy fury made of thee…? Let us away, servants of Hydaelyn.”
“Wait, we get to ride th’ dragon!?” Chuchupa cried, and was shushed by several people even as Vivienne picked her up by the scruff of the neck to deposit her on the dragon’s back.
“But the others-“ began R’nyath.
“They will not be coming,” Aentfryn said as he climbed up. “When the Imperial pressure began to lessen, we all made arrangements – that Chuchupa and I should rejoin you as soon as possible, and Estinien would follow when the Enterprise had arrived to take Alphinaud and the rest. We need not wait for them.”
Midgardsormr did not wait for them to be comfortable, but swooped upwards as soon as they were all on, and flew towards a dull brown light – daylight, coming through the hole Nidhogg had just created.
The Enterprise was circling the Flagship, watching for them. Midgardsormr aimed for the airship, coming close enough they could hear Cid cheer: “Haha! Godsdammit, do you always have to cut it so bloody close!?” Their other friends were there, every one of them except Estinien, waving and smiling with gladness to see them alive.
“Close to what?” R’nyath mumbled.
Achiyo closed her eyes and felt absolute exhaustion wash over her. She… could ride Midgardsormr all the way back to Ishgard right now. But she did not want to, squashed between Rinala and R’nyath, awkwardly perched upon the dragon’s neck.
It seemed Midgardsormr was none too keen on carrying the lot of them all the way back either, and they stopped at the Allagan airship dock to enact what should have been a quick transfer.
But Achiyo took one step from his back and sank to one knee with a clatter of armour, fear and stress and shame overwhelming her. “Achiyo, what’s wrong?” Rinala asked, a hand on her shoulder. “Are you hurt? You don’t seem hurt…”
She forced herself to look up at them all. “Estinien is gone… and Ishgard’s most deadly enemy is alive and well – at full strength, and he was nigh-unstoppable before. This is all our fault… my fault…” She should have been stronger, should have cut through that pressure and seized one of the Eyes before Nidhogg could manifest-
Chuchupa marched up to her and grabbed her by the ears to force her to look her in the face; Achiyo winced, but it distracted her from the dangerous prickle in her eyes that suggested she was going to cry soon. “Now ye listen to me! Ye’re tired and worn out and ain’t thinkin’ straight – ye can’t blame yerself fer that, any more than ye can blame Estinien fer that!”
“Ishgard will fall, because we set things in motion that led to this!” They had won the battle and in so doing, lost the war. Fear was shooting through her, making her feel ill. She wanted to vomit, she felt light-headed, her heart was racing…
“What happened?” Alphinaud said, very quietly, very frightened.
“We’ll explain in a minute,” R’nyath said to him.
“Ye’re not perfect, Achiyo! Nor any of us are – didn’t we just finish kicking that upstart’s arse ‘cause he thought he was s’pposed to be perfect?”
Estinien had had to maintain perfect control all these long years, and he slipped for one moment, and Nidhogg pounced. Her own words to Thordan, so defiantly spoken, held no purchase on her heart. “How can I tell Aymeric-sama any of this? We went to avenge his friend and lost another. I must tell him, and quickly, but I-“ She wanted to curl up and die.
Midgardsormr intervened. “Without thee, that city would have fallen moons ago. Get up, child of man. This is no time to wallow in self-pity. The road ahead is yet long.”
“Aye, come,” Aentfryn said. “There is food and drink aboard the Enterprise. And we should take another look at your injuries, lest there be unseen damage that cause lasting harm.” Eos nodded emphatically.
They were both right, and she let Chuchupa pull her to her feet, let Rinala take her hand. It was strange to have them all fussing over her like this, but she was in no position to argue.
Tam turned to Midgardsormr. “I have the idea you’d like to come into Ishgard and have a word with the folks there. Shall I go with you?”
“Thou mayst ride with me,” Midgardsormr said. “Long has it been since mortals and dragons shared the sky in such a way.”
“Yeah, it’s been a couple years,” Tam said, swinging himself up to the dragon’s shoulders in a way that suggested practice and familiarity.
Midgardsormr snorted. “Thou art as alien as I, child, yet they believe both of us not.”
“Long time indeed since anyone could call me that,” Tam answered, and they took off together.