Hey, I’m keeping a steady pace with these chapters. Maybe I’ll be done HW before EW comes out? (probably not, it’s longer than it looks)
I went and rewatched Castle in the Sky for the little bit of vocabulary in the middle.
Chapter 25: Hraesvelgr
Achiyo had seen many incredible things in her life, especially after she’d come to Eorzea and found it safe to look outside herself, but the summit of Sohm Al had to be among the more amazing places she’d been. The floating mountain peak, glowing from below, was awe-inspiring from afar. She could not wait to ascend it and see what waited beyond.
“How does it float?” Rinala wondered aloud, as they traversed the cavern of Mourn. Vidofnir had permitted them passage, though warning them that Nidhogg’s minions would await them there. In Mourn, there were many dragons, of silver or white scales, but though they watched the adventurers, they made no move towards them. On either side of the main path were scattered columns, round and square ones, carved intricately. The temperature was much warmer than it had been outside, like to the Gnath hive, and it was getting warmer the farther they went in.
“The same manner in which the Sea of Clouds floats,” Aentfryn told her.
Kekeniro nodded. “Those stones, solid though they appear, are riddled with air crystals and aether. I detect quite a bit of fire aether as well, which makes sense since before us is the centre of one of those fabled ‘volcanoes’.”
“’Tis said to be the highest mountain in all of Eorzea, you know,” Alphinaud said. The others had fawned over him after they got back from fighting Ravana, admiring his new clothing. He seemed more confident today.
“Ye’ve been to O’Ghomoro, that’s a volcano,” Chuchupa said.
“I suppose, but it’s not like we can visit. At least not the caldera.”
Achiyo sighed as they crossed over a worn bridge. “What does it say when we can more easily ask passage of dragons than of kobolds?”
“Dragons have other lands to fall back to,” Tam said. “Kobolds don’t, and have been pressed harder.”
Alphinaud looked at her. “Why do you say that?”
“I… do not like Eorzea’s wars with her beast tribes,” Achiyo said slowly. “As I have said before. We do not have that in Hingashi and Doma – at least not so… inherent. Comprehensive. I cannot find the word.”
“Systemic, perhaps?” Alphinaud said shrewdly. “Well. Dragons are not beastmen, yet mayhap here we may make steps towards bringing true peace to Eorzea.”
“The beast tribes are not beyond befriending either,” Tam said. “I like them better than I like most people.”
“Yes, but you’re an unusual person,” Alphinaud said, and several people chuckled. “Ah, that reminds me… Oh, we are here. I will ask later.” The cavern had opened up into the caldera, and before them the path ended at a large, curious statue, many stories tall, part of which had the shape of a dragon’s head. All around them natural twenty-yalm stone fangs jutted out of the ground, laced through with fire crystals. The air wavered with heat about them.
At the base of the statue swirled an aetherial flow. The dragons might be able to soar to the floating point, but Achiyo wondered if the flow were part of that ancient history Ysayle spoke of…
“We are here, and the way is open,” Estinien said, with a glance at the dragons that still watched them. “Let us not tarry here.”
“A moment!” Ysayle interrupted him before he could stride to the flow. “Shall we blindly forge on, knowing the dangers that await us? Tioman herself is said to guard this peak.”
Estinien crossed his arms. “I do not fear Nidhogg’s consort. Any dragon foolish enough to bar our path shall feel the sting of my lance.”
Ysayle’s glare sharpened. “Spoken like a true butcher! Need I remind you that we are come to parley a peace!?”
Estinien stepped closer to lean over her, though she was undaunted. “Let us be clear, heretic: ’twas to save Ishgard and her people that I first lent my support to this doubtful venture. And ’tis for their sake that I go now to speak with Hraesvelgr. But I said nothing of Tioman. Should the opportunity present itself to rid my people of one of their deadliest enemies, I shall take it. That is my duty as Azure Dragoon.” He turned and walked towards the flow.
Ysayle shook her head. “You are beyond redemption…”
“We will accomplish nothing by bickering,” said Alphinaud. “If we are to meet with Hraesvelgr, our path leads up the mountain. We shall defend ourselves if attacked, but avoid conflict wherever possible. What other choice do we have?”
R’nyath leaned towards Achiyo. “Have they been like this the whole time?”
“Yes, very much so,” Achiyo said to him. “Alphinaud tries to keep the peace, but even so sometimes Aentfryn loses patience with them…”
R’nyath grinned and his ears twitched. “So when’re they getting married?”
“Excuse me!?” Ysayle and Estinien both turned to stare at R’nyath. Ysayle’s mouth had fallen open in utter indignation, while what little could be seen of Estinien’s face showed extreme irritation.
The target of their glares shrugged and sidled away. “Just sayin’! Ya bicker like ya like each other!”
“What- I- That’s- I do not!” Ysayle protested. Estinien turned away with a huff and stepped into the flow.
Their passage through Sohm Al was slow, but steady. Despite the violence that they were forced to deal with and the urgency of their mission, the mountain was beautiful. Achiyo caught some glimpses of the view of the lands below, stretching out far beyond her sight like a map. She looked for Ishgard to the south-east, but that was too far away; too many mountainous lands lay in between. The air was clean and cool, caressing her hair, raising her eyes to the heights that awaited, promising greater wonders to come.
Vidofnir’s warning had been well-given, for as soon as they passed from the outer slopes of the peak to the winding caves within, they were set upon by dragons. Though Ysayle cried out to them again and again, the dragons did not draw back, and many were slain before a few survivors flew away to save their lives.
They slew the queen of the mountain, a small but vicious dragon that Ysayle called Tioman, and Nidhogg’s distant roar shook the ground in response – and momentarily brought Estinien to his knees. They could not enter this land unnoticed. But they were not come to speak with Nidhogg, only with Hraesvelgr, and by that reassurance she took hope and continued through the last tunnel of Sohm Al.
She was not prepared for the first step she took into the open. The sky arched overhead, blue, blue, blue as Aymeric’s coat, perfectly clear from horizon to horizon, across the archipelago of floating sky islands. The sun was heading to the west, and thus she saw in the distance a huge graceful shadow the size of the Vault – an immense constructed structure, like an enormous lotus. She could not understand its form or purpose, but it was beautiful. Near and far across the islands were scattered ruins in various states of disrepair; it seemed only a handful, including the huge one, were yet intact after a thousand years.
She could do naught but stare for several minutes, gazing over this enchanting, alien landscape. It was so mournful… yet so peaceful, so serene, and her heart sighed to see it.
And then she turned to the northeast and saw a thick swirling storm, lit from within by violet lightning strikes. She inhaled sharply. “Ryuunosu.”
The others stopped to look at her. “Dragon… dragon’s nest?” Ysayle said. “Did I understand you aright?”
“Hai,” Achiyo said automatically, then realized. “Forgive me, I… Yes. Dragon’s nest. It is what we call thunderclouds like that in the Far East. Though I have never seen one so… malevolent.”
Ysayle nodded. “Such a name is more fitting than you know, for that is where Nidhogg dwells. The Aery, it is called – though I know little more than that.”
“Hmph, it certainly suits him, and I haven’t met him,” Tam said. “Though the spikes poking out of the inner architecture remind me of dragoon armour. Is that on purpose, Estinien?”
Estinien shrugged. “Recall that none from Ishgard have ever seen the Aery.”
“Right.”
And then they saw the moogle.
Vivienne stretched as they gathered in the moogle village after two solid days of chores. “Finally! If one more fuzzball has a ‘request’ for me I’m punching it.” Tam grinned. It wouldn’t do much to them.
“Oh, don’t punch them, please!” Rinala exclaimed. “They can’t help it, and they’re so fluffy.”
Ysayle smiled involuntarily. “They are rather adorable, aren’t they?” Several people, especially Estinien, turned to stare very hard at her. “…What- Why do you stare at me so? Can I not find a creature adorable? My heart is not truly made of ice…” Pink dusted her paper-white cheeks.
Alphinaud grimaced. “Adorable or no, if our hosts elect not to grant their aid after working us like pack chocobos, I shall demand compensation in kupo nuts out of principle.” Good lad.
One of Kan-E-Senna’s personal guards, the dark-haired Hyur, leaned over with a face of horror. “They had the Elder Seedseer scrubbing and sweeping… The Elder Seedseer!”
Ysayle was yet lost in staring at Kuplo Kopp busily chattering with his heavens-bound kin. “What sorcery is this…? That my heart should stir at mere… fluffiness…”
“Well, it’s like Tam said when we met the chieftain,” R’nyath said. “The fatter the moogle, the more mischief he makes.” Certainly Tam had said that on… ‘meeting’ the large moogle. Perhaps it was fair to say that the fatter the moogle, the more Tam disliked them? In any case, he had said it out loud and nearly gotten everyone kicked out.
He ought to step in here. “Kuplo Kopp’s an excellent fellow. Admire him all you like.”
“I see,” Ysayle said. “I shall.”
They were summoned then, back to the great white fluffy bush that was the chieftain’s throne, where the chieftain greeted them with what might be termed open arms. “Never have I seen such determined workers, kupo! It would have taken us moons to complete all those dreary chores and niggling errands!”
Kan-E-Senna smiled, though some of the others bristled. “And have our labours proven the purity of our intentions, Chieftain?”
“Without a doubt!” Chief Moglin declared, wiggling about as if very proud of his own ‘cleverness’. “In fact, there was never really all that much doubt to begin with… You were, after all, already friends with a fellow moogle. But, you see, before any meeting with Hraesvelgr could take place, certain preparations needed to be made… And what better way to help you pass the time than by having you perform all the tiresome tasks that no one ever wants to do, kupo!”
Estinien snarled audibly.
Moglin flailed in justified panic. “Ohhh dear… Th-the horn! Bring out the horn! Quickly now!” There was a whoosh, and a new moogle flew in hurriedly with a small golden trumpet. “We blow on this wondrous instrument whenever we wish to speak with the great wyrm, kupo. We, uh… we haven’t perhaps been treating it with the care it deserves of late (and I think Moghan may have sat on it), so we needed some time for cleaning and polishing (and straightening). No lasting harm done, though! Now, you need simply head to Zenith – the wyrm’s dwelling to the west – and give the horn a good toot.”
Achiyo stepped forward to receive the horn and bowed politely. As if moogles cared for court manners. “We are in your debt, Chieftain. Thanks to your noble gift, we shall finally have a chance to plead our case to Hraesvelgr.”
“…Very possibly, yes,” Moglin said slowly. “…But I wouldn’t get my hopes up too high, kupo. The old wyrm isn’t terribly fond of… um…” He trailed off.
Ysayle smiled at him. “Your concern is appreciated, but I am quite certain that Hraesvelgr will welcome our overtures.”
“…Should we ever arrive at his lair,” Estinien growled, and turned away, striding past the other adventurers to head to the exit. “Come – we have squandered enough time already.”
Kan-E-Senna also bowed. “Chieftain Moglin, we thank you for your gracious hospitality. Though we must soon take our leave, I pray that we may continue to nurture the shoots of this new-sprung friendship ‘twixt earth and sky.”
Moglin fluttered happily at her. “Of course, of course, kupo! Visit us whenever you wish! Consider Moghome your home amongst the clouds!”
Ha, no. This land was pretty, but too barren for his taste. Even should he manage to get here on Corbelle, Haurchefant’s black chocobo, to explore some of the farther islands not accessible by foot, even should he head to that strange glowing blue grove in the distance, this would never be any sort of home for him. Come to think of it, it did remind him a bit of where the dragons at home lived. Though perhaps Gyr Abania was a better comparison to that…
He’d zoned out consciously, though his ears were still listening and his eyes were still seeing, so he was moderately surprised when Kan-E-Senna turned to him, half-way to the exit. “Dear Tam… Pray attend closely to your companion, Ser Estinien. Beneath that stoic facade, a storm of anguish seethes unseen.”
“I know,” Tam said. “Not much I can do about it.” Carrying the weight of a dead village was difficult. Even more difficult when one was only thirty or so. Put on top of that the weight of an ailing nation, and the anger of an ancient dragon, and… Well, it was no wonder his will was like steel – but what was anyone supposed to do about it, other than negate the angry dragon as soon as possible? These children had difficult lives, and were wounded early and often. Would they have time to heal in their short lives, to grasp happiness before everything was taken from them?
At least this one wasn’t alone. He had all these lunatics along with him.
Including Alphinaud, more or less, who shaded his eyes with a hand to peer over at Zenith before turning back to the others. “Well, that took rather longer than expected. I dare not think how long we have been away from Ishgard. Gods help us if we meet with further delays…”
Estinien harrumphed ferociously. “Barefaced little bastards… They have played us for fools.”
“That’s what they do,” Tam said. “Most of them.” Why he was torn between amusement and annoyance in dealing with them. Being of an anarchic nature since before his insanity, he appreciated their riotousness and their pranks, and had he time, he would join them gladly enough. But also being a practical adventurer, he didn’t appreciate wasting time. Certainly, he had all the time in the world… but the world didn’t.
Estinien continued grumbling. “What was I thinking, listening to those self-satisfied little… Must we have this creature as our guide?” He gestured at Moghan, fluttering quietly by them. Moghan flinched, offended.
“I would sooner flay that thing than follow it,” Vivienne agreed.
“No, you shan’t hurt him,” Ysayle declared, and Rinala joined her, standing in front of Moghan. “He is our guide, Lady Vivienne.”
“He’s just here to help!” Rinala cried.
“What guidance do we need? The wyrm’s home is right bloody there!” Vivienne said, waving at Zenith. “Hard to miss!”
“We waste time,” Estinien said. “Lead on, moogle, or I shall.”
“Y-yes! Of course! This way, if you please!” Moghan turned tail and fled, heading north across a small natural bridge, deeper into the Churning Mists.
“How is it that we breathe up here?” Tam asked at random while they walked. “At the tops of large mountains the air is thin, and this is higher than most mountains.”
“The air crystals within the rocks,” Kekeniro said. “Weren’t you in the Sea of Clouds?”
“I was. I was wondering the same thing there, too. Well, that’s convenient.”
“It means my good friend R’nyath here will be right at home,” Kekeniro said, nudging R’nyath in the shins. “Even though Nophica is his patron, he’s largely attuned to air, and it’s only getting stronger.”
R’nyath leaned down to pull a card from behind Kekeniro’s ear. “Aye, the Arrow has always been my guide. Even if I didn’t know it until recently.” He twirled the card, spinning it between his fingers, before flicking it in the air where it vanished. “And you, my friend, are a towering Spire of intellect.” He snapped his fingers, and another card appeared in his hand.
“Oh, I don’t need the Spire,” Kekeniro said. “Though I’m attuned to lightning, you’d better give me the Ewer in battle. Or better, a Balance.”
“Oh, but Achiyo, Ewer our leader!” Achiyo glanced over, but did not react to the joke. “You’re not Bole‘d over by my wit?”
“Spare me these dreadful puns,” Aentfryn said. “Where did you get those cards?”
R’nyath shrugged. “I’ve been dabbling in magic and magitech recently. Seems I’m not as dumb as I thought – or I was afraid these things were more difficult than they were, and so never tried. Or maybe I have good teachers! In any case, I have a little more than just my bow to offer now – though of course my bow is still what I’m best at.”
“Does that mean I can retire, now that you’ve discovered how to be useful?” Aentfryn asked.
R’nyath clasped his hands together and leaned in with big shiny eyes. “I’d rather you didn’t! Just think of what we can do with three healers! Also, I’m very sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. I have a new perspective now.”
“It’s all right!” Rinala told him. “We’ve all learned a lot on our journey together, haven’t we?”
Tam interrupted them. “The wind’s shifting, by the way.” The sky was clouding over rapidly above them – it was already clouded below them, thin clouds that were probably invisible from the ground with the light of the sun behind them. They would have to camp early on this exposed terrain.
Moghan seemed to agree. “There’s a clearing up ahead where we can rest until the wind dies down. When the winds are high like this, Hraesvelgr invariably abandons his lofty perch and heads to the lands below to hunt. Until then, we might as well make ourselves comfortable!” And in a few more minutes they had come to a half-circle of great white pillars, with a few fallen square blocks lying about.
Alphinaud grimaced. “If we must interrupt our journey so close to its end, I suppose this place is as good as any. And mayhap a brief respite from the hardships of the road will help to clear our minds in readiness for the coming parley.”
“Yes, we have come a long way today,” Achiyo said. “This ruin is a beautiful place to make camp.”
“Well, then,” Alphinaud said. “I believe a campfire is in order. Leave the gathering of fuel to me. I acquired a keen nose for firewood during my time in the frozen wastes of Coerthas.”
“Oh, did you, now?” R’nyath asked, eyes dancing. “Very well, I shall leave it to the expert.”
But Estinien leaned over to Tam. “Hmph. ‘Clear our minds’? ‘Tis Master Alphinaud whose mind needs clearing. The thought of meeting a great wrym in the flesh has befuddled the boy. His artless quest for firewood is like to get him killed.”
“We should go after him, you mean,” Tam said. “Without letting on that we are. They won’t miss us. And if they do…” It was just the dragoons being mysterious again, right?
The others had set up a fine camp by the time Alphinaud returned, bearing only a few splinters to pay for his armload of dry fallen branches, and by the time Tam and Estinien returned shortly after, breathing slightly harder and with freshly cleaned lances.
An hour later, after everyone had eaten of Ysayle’s stew, the talk had dwindled into silent contemplation of the dancing flames amid the darkening night. Everyone had their own thoughts, Tam not least of all…
“Tam,” Alphinaud broke into his meditations at length, “Did you not say before that there were goblins in Sharlayan?”
“Aye,” Tam said. “You were born there, were you not?”
“Yes, but my days there were short. Alisaie and I remained only until the exodus, and I have not returned since.”
“And that’s sixteen years gone,” Kekeniro said. “You must have been very young indeed.”
Alphinaud might have blushed, it was hard to tell in the firelight. “I admit to not recalling anything of it. But goblins?”
Tam shrugged. “It’s a nice city. They’re not knocking it down… mostly.”
“Mostly?” Alphinaud’s eyes widened in alarm. “A little bit?”
“Some of it was already falling down. Most of them are rebuilding that which fell. Those mean well, Alphinaud.”
“It’s not like ye‘re using the city,” Chuchupa said.
Alphinaud nodded. “Yes, you are right. It’s good that it provides succour still. I am glad to know. Though I wonder what Urianger will think. He spent his childhood there, as did Y’shtola… and Papalymo…”
Tam leaned back to look up. The clouds were parting a little, showing spots of stars. “It still seems strange to me. Sometimes in my wanderings of my homeland, I’ll come across a village – maybe a town – a clearing in a forested valley, by a river… Moss-draped stone foundations and not much more… abandoned ahead of the lugwuarthei… or if they were unlucky, attacked suddenly by the lugwuarthei. And then the settlements are forgotten, lost under the trees… How would I feel if someone moved into a home I once considered mine, now that those beasts are gone?” He shrugged. “Maybe I’d feel the same as you. I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had a house-home in… years.”
“What are ‘those beasts’?” Estinien asked.
“He called them shadowbeasts before,” Vivienne said. “Never elaborated.”
“Let’s just say there’s a reason why all the kalmaeirin nations have job opportunities for warriors, despite us being at peace with each other, and detest the thought of killing each other,” Tam said. “Unlike you lot.”
Estinien grunted.
“I hope it never begins for your people,” Ysayle said. “Even without wars, there is enough grief in this world…”
Tam made a mirthless grin and didn’t respond otherwise.
Alphinaud looked over at him. “Even though your people are long-lived, you do not commonly relocate?”
“People move about all the time. As to what you’re talking about, the people in the dragon-lands practice quite strict land-use planning, which is never something that appealed to me… They move whole villages now and then to adapt to the changing land. But removing an entire city in one night as a political protest? How is that not strange?”
“I suppose,” Alphinaud said. “I grew up with my father telling me it was for the best. I had not thought about it that way before.”
Silence fell again; the night grew deeper; the flames fell lower. At length, Alphinaud mentioned he was proud of his fire, and Ysayle and Estinien had another very serious discussion, but Tam didn’t really hear it. He was lost in the woods again, where every tree might hide a unicorn… and every mountain might hide a shadow.
They had slain all the devouring shadows… hadn’t they?
Achiyo, Alphinaud, Estinien, Ysayle, and Tam climbed the spiral road to the top of Zenith – at least as far up as could be walked. Achiyo could see yet more floating above, beautiful, ancient, impossible. Of a dragon, she saw no sign. The rest of their group had stayed below with Moghan so as not to make Hraesvelgr feel threatened.
They reached the top terrace, a wide oval stage with ornamented tiling, and a few beautifully alien pillars about it, impossibly slim for their height. The enormous ribbed petals of the lotus structure surrounded them on three sides, sheltering them from the winds. Achiyo steeled herself internally and nodded to Tam.
Tam raised the horn and blew, sending melancholy silvery notes ringing from the towering petals, echoing out into the skies around them.
The sky about them grew grey with mist, and a voice boomed out in the dragon tongue: “Mortals… Why do you disturb my solitude?”
With a near-silent sweep, a great white sinuous shape soared between the pillars, circled around them, and with powerful flaps of eight feathery wings, landed before them firmly. Yellow owl’s eyes glowered down upon them. No – only one eye, for his left side showed only a black socket.
Alphinaud stared in unabashed wonder. “Hraesvelgr…”
The dragon huffed through its great nose. “Thou speakest the name of a creature that but awaiteth the release of oblivion. Leave me…”
Ysayle walked forward in front of all of them. “Hraesvelgr… do you not remember me? ‘Twas I whom you found in Dravania – I who glimpsed the truth. The truth about your past, about Shiva-”
The dragon’s eye widened, and he reared up and roared at them. Achiyo flinched and instinctively reached for her shield, treated to such a close-up view of very sharp teeth, and a very wide maw. “Do not speak her name, mortal!”
Achiyo had not actually pulled her shield from her back, and slowly let go of it as she realized Hraesvelgr was not actually attacking them. Ysayle, though, had only recoiled for a moment. “But speak it I must! I have summoned Shiva’s soul from the beyond, and offered myself as her vessel! She has made her heart known to me!”
Hraesvelgr’s voice shook the terrace. “Foolish girl. Thinkest thou my beloved’s spirit hath descended from the heavens!? That the secrets of her heart are thine to know!?”
“I have surrendered mine to her!” Ysayle cried, stretching out her arms towards the dragon. “Do you not see, my love? I am Shiva reborn!” Beside Achiyo, Tam winced.
“Gullible fool…” Hraesvelgr looked away from her in disdain. “The Light but illuminated the past for thee, it did not grant thee omniscience. The spirit thou hast summoned belongeth not to Shiva – ’tis but a shade conjured by thine own fancy. In an age long past, mine own kin were guilty of like folly. Beguiled by the dark ones’ lies, they attempted to resurrect a king amongst wyrms – yet the divinity they called forth merely borrowed the semblance of my fallen brood-brother. Such gods are not summoned, but created. Phantoms spun from the threads of misplaced faith.”
“Then the spirit that answered me…” Ysayle began.
“…was but thy dream of Shiva. Thy soul hath been corrupted by a deity of thine own making, child.”
Ysayle stood for a moment, frozen, then fell to her knees heavily.
Seeing that their guide would or could no longer speak for them, Alphinaud took a cautious step forward. “Be that as it may, Lord Hraesvelgr, Ysayle’s desire to heal the rift between man and dragon is real, and it has borne us this far. We would spare both our kind and yours the ravages of this senseless war! Pray join your voice to ours in a call for peace and forgiveness!”
Hraesvelgr’s lips curled back over his teeth in silent snarl. “The tale of thy kind is one of avarice, treachery, and death – and thou wouldst speak to me of peace? Hark thee, mortal, to the naked truth… then tell me thou deservest forgiveness!”
He spoke long, telling them all a tale of betrayal and woe, sorrow and vengeance, that brought tears of grief and shame to Achiyo’s eyes – and she had nothing to do with it, her people had nothing to do with it, and yet… Yet people she admired were descended from these oathbreakers, these murderers; good people, kind people, who did not deserve such an evil inheritance. All nations had their dark sides, their atrocities, their sins, yet these were darker than most…
“Such is the truth the Holy See would keep hidden. Such was the beginning of the Dragonsong War. ‘Tis a song my kind shall ne’er forget, e’en should ten thousand years pass and Ishgard crumble into dust.”
Estinien’s voice rang out, cold and calm. “Your tale bears scant resemblance to the one I was taught. How convenient that it should absolve your kind of all responsibility. But tell me, dragon: why should I believe your version of events?”
Hraesvelgr narrowed his eye at him. “What thou choosest to believe is immaterial. The betrayal that yet haunts mine every waking moment is no less than the truth to my kind. And Nidhogg meaneth for Thordan’s people to suffer for this sin till the end of days. That which thou imaginest a war of extinction is but a punishment – a siege of the spirit. Hast thou not seen those who tire of the torment? Those who abandon their own and side with dragonkind?”
“Ishgard’s so-called heretics,” Alphinaud muttered.
“Know that all the traitors’ progeny bear a trace of Ratatoskr’s essence,” Hraesvelgr said. “But a single sip of our blood is enough to awaken it…”
Ysayle had recovered enough to stand again. “Then… the seed lies within us…?”
“‘Tis for this reason that those who abandon their loyalties are rewarded with a drink. And thus are they transformed, to join the ranks of Nidhogg’s ever-growing army as newborn dragons. One by one, through death or defection, my brood-brother shall account for all of the betrayers’ children…”
“Ye gods,” Alphinaud said in soft horror. “I have borne witness to such a transformation! Looked on as a heretic assume the shape of a dragon… I imagined it some manner of Dravanian enchantment! But if any Ishgardian, regardless of allegiance, has such potential within them… Twelve forgive us. To think of all the dragons we’ve slain…!”
“Ex-Ishgardian or no, dragons are people,” Tam said to him. “It was already murder to slay them, regardless of what they looked like at birth.”
“But-” Alphinaud began, and stopped.
“If this is the right course of action, we cannot stop, no matter who stands in our way. That’s the hero’s path, isn’t it?” Tam said, with a gently sardonic smile. “But keep in mind what I always knew – that dragons are not beasts, though some small ones do not talk with words.”
“I… yes,” Alphinaud said. “Yes, of course. I must always remember that, if we are to have true peace.”
Achiyo took her step forward, right up beside Ysayle, right before that deadly face. Tam would not speak for the Warriors of Light. It was up to her. And though she was poor with words, though she felt in Hraesvelgr’s voice his own deeply rending pain and grief and anger, this was the only chance she had to even try to end the death that threatened the people she had swiftly come to respect. She thought of their determination, their defiance, their compassion… No, the one foremost in her mind was Aymeric. Aymeric’s determination, Aymeric’s defiance, Aymeric’s compassion. She should not be dishonest with herself anymore. If all of Ishgard were bad and only Aymeric were good, she should still plead for him with all her heart.
She knelt and made the deepest, most respectful bow she knew: the dogeza, gracefully touching her scaled forehead to the pavement before her, her tail limp and straight behind her. She held it as long as she dared, then raised her face to speak. “O Hraesvelgr-sama, though I understand now that Nidhogg’s rage has just cause, his targets in this day are good people. Kind, loving, honourable people, no more or less wicked than any other folk on this star, and some of them are the best I have ever known, who would cry out in abhorrence against the history you have told us. They do not deserve this punishment! After what they have endured, can they not be granted clemency? Can truly nothing be done to atone for this crime other than unending bloodshed? Not forgiveness, then, if it cannot be granted – but life?”
“Thou art more forgiving than most, I see – for have they not called thee Dravanian from thy guise? And still thou speakest with such passion upon their behalf? My brother shall not be swayed by such meaningless claims of ‘goodness’.” Hraesvelgr looked again at Estinien. “There will always be some, of course, who choose to fight until the bitter end – like thee, dragoon… But struggle as thou might, thy youthful vigour will be spent ere thou reachest two score and ten. And Nidhogg shall remain to torment thine offspring.”
Estinien nodded as if to himself. “Oft have I wondered why Nidhogg did not simply raze Ishgard to the ground. Now I have my answer. He has no intention of winning the Dragonsong War, for it is no war at all, but vengeance – an eternal requiem sung for his murdered sister.”
“Thou hast the right of it, dragonslayer,” Hraesvelgr said to him. “Comprehendest thou now the futility of thy quest?”
“I have not come this far only to admit defeat,” Ysayle said, and leaned down to give Achiyo a hand to her feet. “We can still return the Eye to Nidhogg, and beg forgiveness for our ancestor’s crimes. Mayhap our words will sway him.”
“Sure, we can hand all his power back to him, he would love that,” Tam muttered under his breath. “He’d be extremely ungrateful right before he ate us.”
“Stubborn child… Thou thinkest in mortal terms. Our perception of time is too broad for thee to grasp. ‘Tis a simple matter for thee to offer thine apologies – thou didst not perpetrate the crime. Despite thy visions, the deeds of history seem distant to thee. For a wyrm such as Nidhogg, however, that history is yet part of his present, as fresh as the blood that did gush from Ratatoskr’s wounds. How could he not be driven mad? ‘Tis only by the calming embrace of Shiva’s soul that mine own fury hath not consumed me.” Hraesvelgr spread his eight wings wide. “But let us speak no more of what is done. My faith in your kind is spent, and I would be alone.” He beat his mighty wings and arose from the ground, and flew into the grey mists. The clouds began to part and blow away, but there was no sign of the dragon.
Alphinaud sighed long as they gazed into the sky after Hraesvelgr. “So far did we travel – even unto the very heavens themselves – only to be dismissed like unruly children. And far from mitigating this… humiliation, the hidden truths we have learned serve only to prove that our grand mission of peace was destined to fail from the first. Nothing will deter Nidhogg from his course.”
Achiyo bowed her head. Hraesvelgr had found her of little interest. Had suggested no alternative. Her feelings churned restlessly, for Alphinaud’s words confirmed for her that there was no hope, that Ishgard was doomed, and all those within it…
“Well, what do you propose we do now?” Estinien said. “I, for one, am intent on continuing to the east.”
Achiyo furrowed her brow. “To the Aery…?”
“Aye. The Eye tells me Nidhogg is near…”
“You cannot still mean to slay him!?” Ysayle cried.
Estinien folded his arms. “You cannot still mean to stop me. I have been true to my word, and aided you in this fool’s errand with Hraesvelgr. But your efforts at parley have come to naught, Lady Iceheart. I would see Ishgard saved, and for that, Nidhogg must die.”
Ysayle was shaking, though with fury or sorrow, Achiyo could not tell. “With the tale of our ancestors’ vile betrayal yet ringing in your ears, you speak of continuing this war?”
Estinien shook his head. “Nay, lady, I would but pierce its vengeful heart. When Nidhogg dies, this war shall die with him.”
“Will it, though?” Tam asked. “I don’t understand any of this on a personal level, but I can see the patterns. Perhaps Nidhogg is the greatest of all the dragons that wish harm to Ishgard and her inhabitants, but he has an army, an army of enviable loyalty. Who next would be offended at his death and come to claim their vengeance in turn? Is that not Ysayle’s fear?”
“Nidhogg’s will drives them,” Estinien said. “His rage sustains them. Deprived of him, few among his remaining champions would pose even half his threat, even should they be in turn overcome by vengeance. If we but refrain from provoking fresh blood to the war – if Ishgard can keep to herself – we may be able to come to peace with even our draconic neighbours. And I believe we can. If Aymeric bends his father’s ear, with House Fortemps behind him…”
“Well if even you can imagine it, then I’ll let you be,” Tam said.
Alphinaud spread his hands. “A moment, Estinien. You yourself spoke of the great wyrm’s strength – that you believed him powerful enough to raze your city to the ground. How then are we few to challenge him? Even behind the stout walls of Ishgard – with an army of knights manning the defenses – our victory would be hard-won. Yet you propose to contend with the bea- with him in his own lair?”
Estinien pulled out the Eye once more, a scarlet orb swirling with sinister aether. “In close combat, this will afford us an advantage. And with two Azure Dragoons working in unison, who can say what might be possible?”
Alphinaud sighed again. “The story of this nation grows bloodier by the moment. Must death always be answered with more of the same?”
“Such is the way of things, I fear,” Estinien said. “I shall consider it a miracle if mine armour is not stained crimson ere this conflict is ended.”
“I think it’s a wonder it hasn’t been already,” Tam said.
“I do not think we should stay here,” Achiyo said. “We must be intruding on Hraesvelgr’s patience by our mere presence.”
Ysayle turned away and huddled into herself, sinking back to the terrace. “That I should be blinded by my own lies… Everything I believed… Everything I thought I was… Gone… All gone…”
“Ysayle…” Achiyo said.
Estinien turned and strode away. “Leave her. Your words will not reach her now. And we have not the time to wait for her to gather up the pieces of her shattered faith.”
Tam seemed almost cheerful on the way back down. “That clears up a lot of theories I had. I’m glad we talked to someone who actually knew something.”
“About Ishgard, or about dragons?” Achiyo asked.
“Yes,” Tam said. “Now I want to know who else knows about it.”
“You believe others already know the tale?” Estinien said.
“Only a thousand years, and your people have forgotten where you came from? I realize my sense of time is abnormal here, but that’s not very long.” He added under his breath: “And two hundred years of peace is hardly enough to sneeze in.”
“I cannot agree,” Alphinaud said. “Your sense of time is very abnormal, my friend. It is more than long enough for history to become lost… particularly if suppressed.”
Tam snapped his fingers. “Now you’re thinking in the right direction. I think. It wouldn’t work on me, but it would be fine for your ephemeral lifespans.”
“Do you enjoy being an ageless, immortal pain in the arse?” Estinien asked, and Tam laughed.
Achiyo looked at the sky, that deep blue colour, and frowned unhappily. It was strange that the Echo had not triggered; Ysayle had said it might, but it hadn’t. “Should his goal ever come to pass, and every single descendant of every betrayer either slain or turned to a dragon, what would he do then, after carrying this madness for so long?”
“You think he would not sit still and turn his thoughts to less murderous things?” Tam said. “Blithely leave any surviving Ishgardians be? Perhaps that he might wish to die when all is done? I suppose I can’t imagine that either. I haven’t had to deal with that before.”
“Tam…” Achiyo said slowly. “You said before that your people do not wish to kill each other.”
“Aye, for the older we are, the better friends we are with each other – or at least, if I hated someone enough to wish to kill them, they might be friends with someone I would not like to see grieve. But death is not a daily occurrence to us, and so neither is killing, so I have never hated anyone that much.”
“So then you have no crimes in your land worthy of death,” Estinien said.
“Not yet, anyway. We exile our poor sinners. It’s nearly happened to me just for being annoying at court.”
Achiyo looked up at him, trying to catch the look in his mis-matched eyes, to see if he was jesting, which was a futile endeavour. “It must be strange to you, then, that we whose lives are already so short should choose to cut them shorter…”
“It is strange. I’m pretty sure Hraesvelgr thinks it’s strange too. But I think I understand on some level. Even if you have to go through the rest of your life without that dead person in your life, even if there are really unfortunate consequences for killing someone, like unending war, your own life isn’t going to be very long, is it?”
“A morbid way to look at it,” Alphinaud said. “Yet you do not flinch from killing when you must…”
“Don’t I?” Tam said. “Think back a little.”
Achiyo found it difficult to think back. She did not clearly remember what Tam had been doing in all their fights, having been focused more often than not on the dangers she had to defend against, and just where her comrades were to protect them – not necessarily how they were fighting. But why should he lie? “Oh,” she said.
“I admit to having killed more than a few unspeaking dragons, but that’s certainly changing now. And I can adapt to someone trying to murder me with murder in kind. I’m not so pure as to be stupid.”
“Will you stand with me against Nidhogg or no?” Estinien asked.
Tam raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes. Though I don’t suppose you’d be very upset if I left the actual killing blow to you.”
Estinien had the faintest smirk on his face. “I don’t suppose I would be, no.”
“Whatever Nidhogg might do, we cannot let it happen,” Alphinaud said. “The High Houses are descended from the surviving Knights Twelve. All of House Fortemps must carry that blood.”
Achiyo clenched her hands. “I was not good enough this time. I must do more when next we come to it.” She looked up at Estinien. “I can only speak certainly for myself… but I think all the Warriors of Light will be with you.”
“You are most welcome,” Estinien said, and walked off eastwards.