So you probably guessed but this year’s NaNoWriMo is FFXIV fic! My goal is to get to the start of Stormblood.
Vivienne’s cosplay looks great! Photoshoot forthcoming! I had many moments where I was forced to improvise but I think I captured the five million details well enough. With this massive project done, I can… play more videogames, I feel I’ve neglected them.
I have been replaying FFXIV a bit as I mentioned before, and I have an alt in the middle of 2.x, and I’m noticing a few things I didn’t before – I think one reason why Minfilia chose to help the Domans and not the Ala Mhigans is that there are only so many Doman refugees to take in, their numbers are limited and finite. Ala Mhigo is right next door, so there can always be more Ala Mhigan refugees. (I’m also coming up with new theories and questions about the Echo, so I hope I can keep playing until EW this time.)
You may notice some dialogue is different from how it currently appears in the game. I’m going by how it was when I played it!
Chapter 35: Unraveling Hopes
“Our unknown third party was simply there… and then not there,” Krile had said about Minfilia’s disappearance beneath Ul’dah. Rinala shivered. She knew more or less all the details – the ‘unknown third party’ was Minfilia, and the place she had disappeared to was Hydaelyn’s side in the aetherial sea, but the way Krile had worded it… was creepy.
“Those violent types can go,” Master Matoya was saying to the group. “Take the magickless rogue too if you like, he’s no use to me. The rest of you will stay and work, and I’ll hear no argument. Those are my terms.”
“Wait, does that include me?” Kekeniro asked.
“It does indeed,” Matoya said. “You, Y’shtola, the Roegadyn, the Baldesian girl, and the boy-” She indicated Alphinaud. “The rest of you should be more than enough to deal with whatever guardians the tower has to offer.”
“Oh,” Thancred said uncertainly. “…And I should be delighted to accompany you. Lead the way, Achiyo.”
“Thancred, no,” Y’shtola said quickly. “Your aetheric flow has been compromised. Do not deny it. To venture into an environment so thick with aether, so close to the aetherial sea, would be to risk further impairment – or worse.”
“But Minfilia could be in there, waiting for us!” Thancred cried, waving at the door.
Y’shtola’s brow furrowed with concern. “And you could die – and for what? If she is waiting beyond, the Warriors will find her. Trust in them. Have faith.”
Thancred hung his head and inhaled, holding his tension for a moment before sighing it out. “Damn it all…” He turned to the Warriors of Light assembling by the door. “…Bring her back to us. Whatever it takes, find Minfilia. Whatever it takes.”
Rinala nodded. “We will find her!” It was a promise in her heart.
They had fought their way through familiars, mammets, and dolls; through wondrous voids and upside-down corridors; now the six of them stood in the middle of a wide round chamber at the very bottom of the upside-down tower.
“I wish we had been granted the aid of Kekeniro or Aentfryn,” Achiyo said, looking around at the ornately blank walls. “Rinala, have you any idea how we use this chamber to venture into the aetherial sea?”
“Erm, not really,” Rinala said, trying to think back to all the theoretical texts Y’shtola had made her read, both white and black magic. “I can sense the aether flowing through this place, this tower has brought us physically closer to a place where the… um… wall between dimensions is thin, I guess you can put it, but actually entering it, most people don’t want or need to do that, even thaumaturges…”
“Well, what’s that?” Vivienne asked, pointing to her waist.
“Oh!” The pouch where she still kept the Crystals of Light was glowing, and she reached in and pulled out the water crystal, gleaming a radiant blue.
“Hear. Feel. Think!”
She blinked, and opened her eyes in a void of serene deep blues and greens. Before her glittered the immense crystal of Hydaelyn. But she was alone. None of the others had come with her, not Achiyo or Vivienne or R’nyath. And had it been her imagination, or had Hydaelyn’s voice sounded different from the last time she had heard Her?
“Through time and space hast thou journeyed unto me, as I knew thou wouldst,” said that differently-familiar voice, and she looked up to see a tall woman dressed in creamy white with flowing blonde hair bound in pink ribbons descending towards her from the Crystal.
“Minfilia!” Rinala cried, ascending a little towards her, glad and anxious at once. Minfilia’s eyes were an opaque, glowing blue, the same colour as the Crystal, and her speech was not how Minfilia normally spoke. “How have you been? We’ve all been looking for you so much! We think everyone else is all right though we haven’t-”
Minfilia lifted a hand to stem her chatter before she could even mention Yda and Papalymo. “We are the Word of the Mother. We who were once called ‘Minfilia’.”
Rinala bit her lip in worry. “But… Does that mean…”
“Much time has passed for thee, since the bloody banquet,” the Word of the Mother said. “Since… since I hearkened to Her word. Mother… Hydaelyn guided me… towards Y’shtola and Thancred, that I might be swept up in their Flow… and delivered unto the aetherial sea.”
Rinala nodded, that confirmed what their research had suggested. Though she didn’t like how Minfilia was trailing off in the middle of sentences, as if she wasn’t quite… all there. “Are you all right?”
“The Mother is weak, and Her Word can but reflect it,” Minfilia said. “There, adrift and alone, Her voice silent once more, I prayed… For those we have lost. For those we can yet save. To Her I would make an offering… We speak now with one Voice. One Will. One Word.”
“Oh,” Rinala said, her worry growing. “You offered… yourself to her? But-”
“Listen well, Rinala Ahto, for time is short. Unto thee we bequeath the most precious of gifts: the truth which lieth at the heart of this world. Thus do we beseech thee once more… Hear… Feel… Think…” She held out her hands to Rinala, and they began to fly about the Crystal, as in the real world they might take a walk together to talk comfortably. “Before there was life, in the depths of the aetherial sea, Light and Dark did once dwell as one. But the Darkness coveted power, and the balance was broken. Thus was I forced to banish Him unto the distant heavens, to forever remain apart. A moon bound. In sundering the star did we cry out, and the barriers ‘twixt planes chanced to falter. Across ten and three were we then divided. Reflections of the Source, each possessed of a shard. Zodiark longeth to be made whole. For His restoration, for His resurrection, His servants labour without cease. They seek to tear down the barriers which surround the Source. Thus do they rejoice in their Ardor – in your Calamities – for each marks a Rejoining.”
Rinala was nodding, trying to understand, trying to embed every word into her memory so she could tell the others, especially Kekeniro and Aentfryn, who probably knew more about what Hydaelyn was talking about. Even though, why was she doing that, couldn’t Minfilia tell them herself?
Minfilia’s flying slowly stopped, floating motionless. “Seven times have they succeeded. Seven times hath the Darkness grown stronger. Seven times have I failed. The Ascians cannot be suffered to continue. This… this is my final…” There was an ominous rumble, a tremour through the aether, and Rinala flinched as pain crossed Minfilia’s face and body. “The Crystal’s power is all but spent. With what remains, I will return you to the shore of the aetherial sea.”
“Wait, no,” Rinala cried desperately, all her fears crashing into her at once. “You have to come back with me! Thancred is – we’re all waiting for you, but especially him!”
Minfilia reached out a hand to her, ignoring her pleas. “Blessed child, go forth and seek… seek…” There was a blinding flash of light, and Minfilia splintered into a thousand pieces of crystal-
She blinked and opened her eyes into the Mushroomry, in front of the door to the Antitower. All eyes turned to her – the others who had been with her in the tower had returned in the time she had spent speaking with Minfilia/Hydaelyn…
“Thank the Twelve!” Alphinaud cried.
Thancred moved swiftly to stand before her, looking down at her. “Did you find her? Did you find Minfilia?”
“I… I…” She burst into tears. “I found her, b-but she c-can’t come back!”
“What?” he said, and several other people.
She accepted Achiyo’s handkerchief and tried to stop crying long enough to explain. Thancred only stared at her, and she couldn’t look at him. Even so, she could still see the disappointment, the upset on his face and in his body, and all she could think about was that it was her fault. And with her information passed on, she could cry quietly into the handkerchief and try not to sniffle and hiccough too loudly. R’nyath apparently couldn’t bear seeing her like this and rushed to her side, putting his arms around her and squeezing her in a tight hug. …It did help a bit.
“The Word of the Mother…” Achiyo said. “I am not sure I understand.”
“Nor am I,” Y’shtola said. “Krile?”
Krile spoke slowly. “As unbelievable as it sounds, I see no reason to doubt her – the Word’s tale. No one was more sensitive to the will of Hydaelyn than Minfilia. And… if Hydaelyn has grown so weak that She can barely make Herself heard, it is not hard to see why Minfilia, having joined with Her, might struggle to maintain her own form.”
“What?” Alphinaud exclaimed. “Why would she need to ‘maintain her own form’? Are you saying-” He choked off for a second, then continued. “Are you saying she’s gone?”
Silence was his only answer.
“But that cannot be!” he said, clenching his hands. “Not now, not after all we have accomplished! We were meant to usher in the dawn’s light together!”
“She threw herself on the fire to fuel your ‘dawn’s light’, boy,” Master Matoya barked. “You’ll just have to usher it in on your own.”
Alphinaud’s mouth dropped open and he looked like he had been slapped. Y’shtola stepped forward to defend him. “Must you be so ungentle!?”
Master Matoya looked at her student, and her student glared back at her. Her gaze shifted back to Alphinaud, who had bowed his head. “Tell me about the Scions, boy.”
Alphinaud glanced up a little. “The… the Scions of the Seventh Dawn labour for Eorzea’s salvation. Whenever the realm is threatened, be it by primal, Ascian, Garlean or any other, we take up arms in her defence, that all in Eorzea may live to see a brighter tomorrow.”
“And that’s very noble of you,” Master Matoya said, her voice more soft but her face still grim. “But in chasing after these lofty goals of yours, you seem to have lost sight of some basic truths. To win a war, you must be willing to do whatever it takes. To fight, to kill, and, if necessary, to die. The path you’ve chosen is paved with the dead. Walk it with your eyes open, or not at all.”
Alphinaud lowered his eyes again, looking like he wished to cry as well. Rinala tried so hard not to start crying again, in case she made it more difficult for him, but… what Master Matoya was saying was that Minfilia was willing to die? But she hadn’t even been in battle! She wasn’t supposed to die if she wasn’t one of the fighters! Though Rinala… Rinala was not ready to die. She leaned a little more into R’nyath and he petted her hair soothingly.
Y’shtola spoke, and her voice was hard and determined. “I know the truth of which you speak, and have from the first. If the Ascians will go to any lengths to resurrect their god, then we must needs be as committed to our cause – to unmask them and their schemes, and to crush them both utterly.” She paused, looking around at them all. “Come. There is much to be done.”
“Y-yes, of course,” Krile said, and followed Y’shtola slowly as the Miqo’te marched towards the cave exit. After a moment, Thancred turned without a glance at anyone and walked out after them.
“Thancred, wait!” Alphinaud cried, but Thancred did not stop, nor even show any sign that he had heard. “No… No, this is all wrong.” He turned to the Warriors of Light. “She… she’s not coming back, is she.”
No one knew what to say. Achiyo looked at Rinala, and all Rinala could do was shake her head. Vivienne was the first to speak. “…What now?”
“…We carry on, as we must,” Alphinaud said at last. “She went to great lengths to inform us of the enemy’s designs. We stand, as ever, against the Dark, as defenders of the Light. Yet for how long, I wonder. How much more loss must we endure…? Every time we lose another friend, I have to ask myself if there was not another way…”
“I know,” Achiyo said. “But we must save that for when we have the leisure to unfocus. What should we do? We must tell F’lhaminn…”
“No,” Alphinaud said. “I beg you, do not breathe a word of this to any of the others at the Rising Stones, especially F’lhaminn. I will brief Tataru on what we have learned, as well as Urianger. He may have insight into what the Word told us.”
“That’s a good idea,” Kekeniro said. “Aentfryn, we should go talk with him. Rinala, would you check my notes before we go?”
She sniffled and disentangled herself from R’nyath. “O-okay.”
“You should rest,” Achiyo said to her. “This has been difficult for you most of all. I will take you to Ishgard.”
Rinala was safely tucked away in a room at Fortemps Manor. Achiyo still worried; she had not gone to her Thancred plushie as she normally would. Thancred’s grief had shaken her, no doubt, and Achiyo had tried to impress upon her that she was not to blame for Minfilia’s predicament, but that she would not gain any comfort even from his image…
There wasn’t anything Achiyo could really do to help besides be near if Rinala needed her. But Rinala said she didn’t need anything. So Achiyo left her and went for a walk through the Pillars, and found Chuchupa joined her.
“What do you think of it?” Achiyo asked her. “All our efforts to reach Minfilia have been for naught, and what we learned from her leaves me with more questions than before.”
Chuchupa pouted at her as she marched at her side. “‘Tis not my place to be worryin’ about giant Crystals with more power in Her littlest shard than I do when I let loosest. Not yers, either. Naught we can do ’bout it. Naught we can do for Minfilia until someone tells us how. At least we know where she is.”
Achiyo sighed, trying to let go of her worry. How weak was Hydaelyn that one soul, even one as strong as Minfilia’s, should bolster her? “The Ascians continue to be mysterious. Nidhogg yet lurks and plots beyond our reach. I feel small and useless.” What good was her sword here?
“Ye ought to come wi’ me to Carteneau sometime,” Chuchupa said. “Thrashing other Grand Companies will put yer strength in perspective.”
Achiyo managed half a smile. “I do not doubt my strength, not now. Only my ability to protect others when I do not even know how the threats against them will come.”
“Well, stop worryin’ about it, it don’t help.”
“I know…”
“I get what ye mean about our enemies, though, ’tis hard for me to stop thinkin’ about Nidhogg…”
“Beyond having a second bout with him?” Achiyo asked rather archly.
“Nah, that’s pretty much it. Maybe a little about ‘how can we have that second bout before he tries summat and gets folk hurt’, but I want to see what he looks like at full strength.”
“I do not,” Achiyo murmured to herself. “My mind is drawn to what Master Matoya said, that we are in a war. Y’shtola is not wrong about the Ascians; we have seen from the first that they will do anything – even destroy their own allies – if it will give them the slightest advantage.” Ultima had failed to kill them, but it had not failed to weaken Hydaelyn. And in the process it had killed many Garleans, surely. It had killed Gaius van Baelsar. “But though they call us Warriors of Light, I… did not join the Scions to fight a war.”
“But I bet ye feel like ye can’t back out now.”
No. She knew too much to abandon her place. To know that the Ascians were trying to hurt everyone… she could not just let that happen. Yet it was tiring to think about. The Ascians surely worked without rest, to a plan that only they knew, and the Scions were ever playing catch-up, reactionary, desperate. “Do you feel that you could leave?”
“Nah, but that’s partly because they give us good fights. But ye aren’t me.”
“I will fight,” Achiyo said, almost to herself. “I can and have killed when it is necessary. But to die… I came to Eorzea seeking to live, and I have found my life here.” She paused. “Though, to protect my new friends… Rinala, or Alphinaud, or you, Chuchupa, I could give my life. But for this cause? I do not know.”
“Who gives their life for causes anyway?” Chuchupa said, almost cheerfully. “Mates are way better. Though I bet if Aymeric were involved, ye’d be committed to death.”
The look Achiyo gave her was not amused. “He is our friend as much as Alphinaud or the other Scions.”
“Mmhmm. Oh, fine, I’ll leave ye alone about him for now, Princess. Meanwhile, the brains are thinkin’ what to do next, so ye really oughta rest yer own head until they know what to do. They’ll be lookin’ to ye for guidance then and ye know it.”
“Yes,” Achiyo said distantly. Chuchupa was right. The longer Minfilia was gone, the more the others followed her judgement. The responsibility was not something she liked to think about. She could shoulder it and do what needed to be done, but only if she did not let herself fall into contemplation of what that meant.
A Temple Knight was approaching them, and removed his helmet to greet them. “Lady Achiyo, Chuchupa!”
“Syndael!” Chuchupa said. “What’s the word?”
“Hello, Ser Syndael,” Achiyo said. “Are you well?”
“Quite well, thank you; I am glad you remember me. If you are not busy, Ser Aymeric would like to speak with you and any of the other Scions about an upcoming ceremony.” The golden-haired knight smiled broadly.
“What kinda ceremony?” Chuchupa asked suspiciously. “If it’s the boring kind, I’m stayin’ home.”
“Don’t be rude, Chuchupa,” Achiyo said, trying to shake off her earlier emotions. “Let us at least go and see what it is. I shall call the others and see who wishes to join us.”
“Eh, tell me what happens later,” Chuchupa said. “See ya!”
Ser Syndael ushered Achiyo and R’nyath into the Lord Commander’s office not much later. Aymeric was doing paperwork, as it seemed he was always doing when she visited his office, but he looked up and smiled to see them, then stood to speak with them. “A pleasure to see you again, my friends. How fare you and your companions?”
They glanced at each other. “Good and ill,” Achiyo said. “Though we are not without hope that the ill can be remedied.” At least, she hoped they had hope.
“I pray that it can, for your sake,” Aymeric said. “But I have at least news for you which will gladden your spirits.” He paused, closing his beautiful blue eyes to gather his thoughts for a moment. “I shall begin at the beginning. When the True Brothers of the Faith seized control of the Vault, I feared the worst. Yet in adversity were we blessed with the promise of peace between man and dragon, through Vidofnir’s timely rescue of an innocent child. Timely, I say, though ‘miraculous’ or ‘providential’ might better describe the event. The gods themselves could not have devised a more fitting symbol of hope. Needless to say, we could scarce let such an opportunity pass us by, which is why I set about making formal arrangements for a peace conference between our peoples.”
“Oh, fantastic!” R’nyath cheered, and Achiyo smiled. “Good work!”
Aymeric smiled back. “Of course, I wished to personally invite the Warriors of Light and the Scions to attend. You and yours have done more to bring us together than any, and it is only right that you of all people attend.” A shadow crossed his expression. “But, I confess, that is not the only reason I would be glad to have you there. Given Nidhogg’s implacable opposition to the peace, it is possible that he and his followers may arrange to disrupt proceedings. In which event, the presence of even one Warrior of Light would be a comfort to all in attendance.”
Achiyo nodded. “You shall have our support. I know Chuchupa would not wish to let the wyrm go unchallenged if he came.”
He smiled wryly at that. “Pray understand, I have no wish to invite the wyrm’s ire, but if our fractured nation is to heal – if we are to move forward as a people united – then we must do whatever is necessary to bring about lasting change.” He shifted, then flinched and sat quickly.
“Ooh, everything okay?” R’nyath asked, reaching for his astrologian globe.
Aymeric winced as he felt his side, then raised a hand to forestall their fussing. “‘Tis nothing, ’tis nothing. Lucia cautioned me against giving vent to my passions, lest my wounds reopen.”
“Reopen?” Achiyo asked in alarm. It had been time enough that Rinala’s healing on him should have taken hold! Her own hurts from their battles were usually healed within two or three days at most.
He gave a rather sheepish smile. “‘Tis not what you fear. I… pushed myself too hard, too soon on the training grounds. I fear it has undone some of Miss Rinala’s efforts… but I am under strict observation now, you may be assured.” He had pushed himself to try to be ready for Nidhogg, hadn’t he?
R’nyath snickered. “You should know better, Lord Commander. Here, just in case it helps.” He spun his globe and gestured with his other hand, and a green swirl wrapped around Aymeric, absorbing into his body.
Aymeric chuckled, looking awkward and embarrassed and yet warm and genuine. Achiyo was enthralled. “I thank you, Master R’nyath, and beg your forgiveness for worrying you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” R’nyath said. “You have to be ready for the conference too!”
“Aye,” Aymeric said, growing serious again; he stood and walked around the desk to lean on it and talk to them more closely. “It has not been easy reaching out to our opponents in Ishgard, many of whom sympathize with the actions of the ‘True Brothers’. But in so doing, we have limited the influence of the zealots.” He fixed them with a determined look and gestured. “The people are ready, my friends. This conference must go ahead!”
“It is the most pivotal moment in Ishgard’s history,” Achiyo said. To end the never-ending war, who would have dreamed it could happen so quickly? “Though I only learned of Ishgard in recent years, I am all the more honoured to be present now for this.”
“I knew you would understand,” Aymeric said. “It will take place on the border of Ishgardian and Dravanian territory, in Falcon’s Nest, three days from now. Lucia is there seeing to the final preparations even as we speak. Pray join her at your earliest convenience – ‘twould not do for the guests of honour to arrive late, after all.”
“Surely Vidofnir is the true guest of honour,” Achiyo objected gently; he accepted the correction with a tiny bow. “I shall go immediately, then, and see who will join me. But we shall all be there three days from now.”
He bowed, smiling, one more concern taken from his shoulders, and she bowed back, yet not as deeply as she might before – as a friend – and turned to go.
“Oh, and one more thing!” Aymeric exclaimed, reaching out to stop them, halting her in her tracks. She turned back, and R’nyath with her, and saw Aymeric looking… flustered? His voice was a touch too loud, and there was a tinge of pink to the tips of his ears. “A drink! We should make time for one. With everyone. Once the conference is concluded, I mean. By my reckoning, ’tis long overdue.”
Achiyo felt her heart jump – though it had been directed at the Warriors of Light as a group. But then she felt it clench, as she remembered.
“That sounds great!” R’nyath was already saying. “…Achiyo?”
“Lady Achiyo…?” Aymeric asked uncertainly, his flustered smile faltering.
She shook herself from the bad memories and tried to reclaim the glad feeling she’d had on first hearing his invitation, to let herself smile at him again. “We should all be very glad to share a drink with you, Aymeric-sama, especially to celebrate this conference.” She bowed again. “I wish you a pleasant day, and we will see you soon.”
“And you,” he said, with confusion.
He found it irritatingly difficult to focus on actual important matters after that. The idea of meeting with the Warriors of Light for a drink had come to him a while ago but he had never had the time to actually think it through. And yet for some reason in that moment it had seemed like a good idea to at least tell them he was thinking about it. Though ‘told’ was not how it had come out… ‘blurted’ was more accurate. And her reaction puzzled him. Had she been offended by his gracelessness? By his assuming that he would be welcome to socialize with them? But he had socialized with them before, at that party.
There was a little tap at the door, and the red head of R’nyath appeared there. “Sorry, can I have another second of your time?”
“Of course, please,” Aymeric said, gesturing for him to enter.
R’nyath glanced behind him, his slitted eyes darting back and forth, before shutting the door carefully behind him. He came closer in a stealthy way, tail swishing – Aymeric found Miqo’te fascinating to watch, and he had never met many before. “Don’t think Achiyo isn’t excited about having you join our group for drinks. She is, really. We meet up as a group for drinks every once in a while and we’d all love to have you join us, I guarantee it. But it’s just… the last time she got invited to have a drink with a leader, that person ended up temporarily assassinated and Achiyo got clobbered in the head trying to defend herself and Rinala from being falsely accused of being the assassins.”
Aymeric’s mouth fell open. “That is very… temporarily assassinated?”
“Sleeping potion instead of deadly poison, but she sure looked dead, Rinala told me,” R’nyath said, nodding. “So, bad memories. That’s not going to happen to you, of course! But I could see her thinking about it anyway. Don’t worry. It isn’t anything you said.”
“I… understand,” Aymeric said. “I am sorry she experienced such… grief.” But now he was thinking of his own enemies and how they might strike at him next.
“I gotta run before she thinks I’ve been gone too long, but don’t worry! Everything is great! For drinks, I mean!” R’nyath said, and bolted for the door.
“Thank you for telling me!” Aymeric called after him. A relief, to have been given that missing puzzle piece. He certainly would not have been able to figure all that out from looking at her.
Well, he did not want to be assassinated, but he certainly did not want to be assassinated while potentially enjoying the company of a beautiful woman and her friends. He really would have to think his haphazard idea into a proper plan before it took place.
The next day saw Achiyo, Rinala, R’nyath, Thancred, and Vivienne in Falcon’s Nest, with promises that the others would be there the day after. Of all the High Houses, Artoirel was the most prominent representative in attendance, although there were others as well, including Emmanellain who wasted no time in trying to foist off several tasks upon them. He wilted under Vivienne’s glare.
Thancred seemed to have recovered his poise in the past day, and though Rinala avoided him, standing on the other side of Achiyo from him, he made no sign of the pain he surely carried. Though he kept to the walls, watching for trouble, taking no rest.
But there was more distant trouble with some Convictors camped to the west, and Lucia took Artoirel to go straighten them out and ensure they would not interfere with Vidofnir’s visit. The others strolled around Falcon’s Nest several times before retiring to the local tavern, talking to those about the village. The early comers to the conference were nervously hopeful, eager to hear what Aymeric and Vidofnir would speak of. It was a good sign, Achiyo thought. Aymeric was right. The people were ready.
The server at the tavern seated the four Warriors of Light with a welcoming smile, bringing them complimentary mugs of heated spiced cider. “‘Fraid food’ll be a bit longer than usual. We’ve got a lot of hungry folk to feed what with the conference and all.”
“That’s quite all right,” Achiyo said. Vivienne grunted, leaning her sword against the wall.
“We’re in no rush, take your time,” R’nyath said with a charming smile. “Are you excited too?”
The server looked about at the crowded tavern. “So many people with cause to celebrate. To think there could be peace in our time, after all them years of fightin’… When I heard about the conference, I knew I had to come. I knew I had to be here – to do my bit.”
“I know what you mean,” Rinala said. “About being here for this. Anything I can do to help!”
“There are so many conflicts in the world, it is a relief that one of them will come to a close,” Achiyo said.
R’nyath sipped his cider. “Yeah, I’m always down for a celebration. Hey, what’s your reason for being here?”
“My husband, he… he died fighting the dragons, you see… And here we are, about to break bread with them.”
“I’m very sorry about your husband,” R’nyath said, and stifled a huge yawn. “Sorry, I’m just… It’s nice and warm in here…”
Rinala yawned too. “It is… I’m just… Wake me if we get food, mmkay?” She put her head down on the table.
“You all right, my loves?” asked the server, smiling at them. “You all look so tired. Reckon you could do with a good long rest.”
“Right,” R’nyath said, and also put his head down, pillowed on his arms.
Achiyo blinked rapidly, trying to clear her head. It felt foggy and she looked in her mug. Was there something…?
“After all you’ve done, I’d say you’ve earned it,” said the server, and there was an unexpected note of venom in her voice.
Beside her, Vivienne grabbed at her sword, but missed and slipped from her seat, tumbling to the floor to lie still. Some folk looked around at the crash of armour, but no one seemed to think it was noteworthy. Achiyo tried to push herself up, to call out for help, but her body would not obey her and she too slid out of her chair to puddle on the flagstones beneath the table.
“Sleep, now, sleeeep…” whispered the woman close to her ear. “Sleep and leave us to our affairs. This was never your fight.”
“Hey! Hey!” A man’s voice – Thancred’s voice – pierced her unconsciousness, bringing her abruptly to waking. “This is no time for napping!”
Achiyo blinked her eyes open to find Thancred kneeling beside her. She sat up, still groggy from whatever drug had knocked her out. The tavern was empty now except for the five of them. “We… we were drugged…”
Vivienne twitched, then shot up, growling and swaying. “That little…”
“That explains it,” Thancred muttered, giving Achiyo an urgent hand to her feet. “You wouldn’t all pop off for a wink together like this.”
She staggered to shake Rinala. “Rinala, Rinala, wake up! You must Esuna us all, quickly!”
“Huh?” Rinala mumbled. “Es… Es’na…”
“Yes!” Achiyo reached out, and Thancred handed her Rinala’s staff. She gave it to the sleepy White Mage, who slowly lifted her head, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She cast the charm on herself and immediately her eyes fully opened.
“Oh! We were…”
“Yes, quickly,” Thancred ordered her. “We have a crisis on our hands.”
Rinala’s eyes widened further and she cast rapidly. R’nyath’s head popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “Oh gods, we were poisoned!?”
“Not quite,” Achiyo said. Though that could easily have been their fate. Thank the kami that woman had not hated them so much as to do that. “What is happening, Thancred?”
“You have your wits about you?” Thancred asked. “Good. Come see for yourselves.”
They ran from the tavern into swirling snow – and struggling figures. There had been some sort of fight, and Temple Knights stood about with drawn swords while civilians cowered. It was difficult to see through the snow and the darkness – evening had drawn on while they slept – but the woman who had drugged them now stood upon the parapet of the village church. “Hear me, brothers and sisters! Do not be fooled by the honeyed words of the Dravanians! The peace they promise is but a prelude to slaughter! Remember your husbands and wives, never returned from war! Your children, torn apart by fang and claw! All your loved ones, shown no mercy! Does not your heart cry out for vengeance? Your blood boil at the injustice? Remember the face of your enemy, brothers and sisters! Remember it and strike back!”
“No!” Achiyo cried, trying to push through the crowd. But she was short, and they were tall, and her voice was strong but the wind seemed to carry it away. “No, this is not the way! Please listen!” Nearby she could hear Emmanellain panicking, and the next thing she knew, an arrow flew to strike the woman in the arm. Everyone gasped and the crowd grew thicker against Achiyo.
The woman clutched her arm, staggering in agony. But she cried out in a ragged voice: “See? See here the true nature of the highborn! With lies and deception they lead us to our doom, and dare we raise our voices in dissent – death is our reward! This is the choice they have given us, brothers and sisters! Death by dragon’s fang or death by nobleman’s command! Death to all we hold dear!” She glared down at Emmanellain. “I spit on your choices, nobleman! You will take no more from me… No more! NO MORE!!”
“Get out of the sodding way!” Vivienne bellowed to the crowd, her greatsword flashing out, and now Achiyo could push forward with Vivienne at her heels – in time to see another arrow strike the woman in the belly. The woman fell with a gasp.
Emmanellain flinched and rounded on the knight with the bow beside him. “What have you done!?”
“I-I only did as you ordered, my lord…” the knight squeaked out.
Emmanellain looked about to find every eye fixed on him. “I gave no such order! I did not! I… I never meant for anyone to…”
“Move,” Vivienne told him, as the Warriors of Light brushed past both of them. Emmanellain turned and ran.
“Rinala, go to that woman,” Achiyo said, hurrying for the ramp upwards. “If we can save her life, maybe we can salvage some of this. R’nyath, see to the wounded in the crowd.”
“Yes, ma’am!” R’nyath said, grabbing his astrologian globe. Rinala dashed past Achiyo, clutching her staff. Achiyo and Vivienne followed to make sure no one would interfere – not even the Temple Knights.
Perhaps it was not their place to take action. They were outsiders to Ishgard, and she was a little surprised not to have heard even a whisper of “Dravanian” following her in this moment yet. But Emmanellain was gone, and no one else seemed ready to take charge.
There were no further threats, and slowly, what she had just witnessed sank into Achiyo’s mind. As Rinala stabilized the woman’s wounds, and Vivienne picked her up to bear her to a room where she could be tended in security, she watched the square where the crowd had been, now utterly deserted. The snow blew past, cold and unrelenting, matching the chill in her heart. The conference was not to be until the day after next, but after this bloodshed…
Thancred met them at the door to the inn room Rinala chose. “I daresay that could not have played out any worse, given that the First Commander and Lord Artoirel are not here to take control of the situation. I spoke with a messenger who will bear word to them, but until they return, naught will be done. Lord Emmanellain has retreated to the barracks and is refusing to speak to anyone.”
“Then it falls to us to ensure that order is restored,” Achiyo said. “Vivienne, will you-”
“I’ll guard Rinala and the troublemaker,” Vivienne said, and Achiyo blinked, for she had been expecting to do that. “You and R’nyath and Thancred go deal with the people.”
“Thank you, Vivienne,” Achiyo said. “We will return.”
“Should bloody hope so,” Vivienne muttered, leaning against the wall comfortably with her arms crossed.
They met again a half-bell later. “The violence has passed, but the people are far from recovered,” Achiyo said, R’nyath at her side.
“That is to be expected,” Thancred said.
“The looks on their faces…” Achiyo murmured. “Some believe her, that Ser Aymeric is a fool or a liar. Some are upset that anyone would go against the peace conference. Some are simply tired of it all, and fearful of renewed fighting. No one appears to have any hope or faith in the conference now.”
“For the moment, it appears that no innocents were harmed by the guards,” Thancred reported. “The blame for all casualties can be placed squarely upon the protesters. Nevertheless, the people will not soon forget the image of a young lordling ordering the public execution of an unarmed protester – one whose words resonated with the hearts of many. After all, who among us has not lost loved ones…” He trailed off.
Achiyo’s heart clenched, and she set her jaw that she would not show it. It had been a long evening, and the circumstances of those she had lost were very different from Ishgard’s war. But yet again, she had only bad news for Aymeric.
“Hey,” Vivienne said. She did not appear to have moved a muscle since they left her. “We did what we could. They were smart and took us out first.”
“I know,” Achiyo said. “I do not even know what we do with this woman, if we can save her. I had a dream in that sleep, that must have been the Echo…”
“Yeah, how do we help her?” R’nyath said, peeking through the door. “She doesn’t want the future we’re offering. I don’t understand. Her husband died, and that’s terrible. But if she goes for vengeance, more husbands will die. We’ve talked about this. That’s how we decided on this course to begin with.”
“Perhaps if she comes to know us, she will come to realize we are in earnest,” Achiyo said. “And at present that is the best we can hope for. That we do not seek to betray Ishgard to her enemies. That we can forgive even those who disagree with us.”
“If she doesn’t get executed like she expects, or imprisoned,” Vivienne said dourly.
Thancred glanced out the window. “I believe the First Commander and Lord Artoirel have returned. Their first order of business will be to speak with Lord Emmanellain, and I somehow doubt that he has moved an ilm since last we saw him. Shall we?”
Lucia and Artoirel had cornered Emmanellain in his room at the tavern. Emmanellain was doing an impression of a marble statue, pale, silent, and unmoving in his seat. Lucia was doing a remarkable job of containing her frustration, but she looked very tired as she turned to Achiyo, R’nyath, and Thancred. “My apologies, Lady Achiyo. I bear full responsibility for this… debacle.”
“There will be time for that later,” Thancred interrupted. “I, for one, am more concerned about picking up the pieces. What do we know?”
“According to initial reports, the protest was orchestrated by the young woman whom Lord Emmanellain ordered shot,” Lucia said. “She and her conspirators infiltrated Falcon’s Nest posing as servants and guests. Several were taken alive. Others resisted and were struck down. Still others took their own lives. Our forces suffered casualties as well, but by the grace of the Fury, no civilians were seriously injured. I understand that, remarkably, the ringleader yet lives, under your care. I thank you for that.”
“Given their impeccable timing, it is like that the Convictors who drew us away from the hamlet were in league with the protesters,” Artoirel said. “Accordingly, we have sent knights to detain them for questioning.” He sighed. “I’ll be sworn that these villains spent as much effort plotting the failure of this peace conference as we did its success.”
“If the mood of the hamlet is any indication, theirs have been the more fruitful labours,” Thancred said sardonically. “In the wake of the protest, the people seem disillusioned.”
“You spoke with them, then?” Lucia said. “I see…” She thought for a long moment. “…Ser Aymeric placed his trust in me. It will be difficult to explain what has happened here.”
Artoirel lifted his head. “Remember how far we have come, First Commander. The people’s faith may be shaken, but we convinced them before, and will do so again. If we can but find a means to remind them – to show them once more the promise that change holds for all – then this tragedy too shall pass into the past.”
“Yeah!” R’nyath said, ever hopeful.
Lucia sighed. “We must pray that you are right. Nevertheless, for the time being, I have no choice but to suspend the peace conference, pending Ser Aymeric’s final decision. Under the circumstances, I cannot leave Falcon’s Nest. Lady Achiyo, might one of the Warriors of Light deliver my report to the Lord Commander in my stead? I need every knight I have.”
“Yes,” Achiyo said. “I will go. The others will remain to aid you as you feel necessary.”
“Thank you,” Lucia said, and there was a look of respect there.
Artoirel turned to his brother. “Get up, Emmanellain. You’re going with her.”
Emmanellain did not so much as lift his head. “Go on without me.”
Artoirel frowned. “I was not asking. You will answer for your actions. In person. Is that clear?”
Emmanellain was motionless for another long moment. “…Yes, my lord.” He stood, still hanging his head. “Come, Honoroit.”
There was no answer, and Achiyo did not see the boy anywhere.
“Your manservant is not here,” Thancred said. “In fact, I have not seen him for some time…”
That brought Emmanellain out of his stupor. “Honoroit…? Honoroit! I could have sworn he was…” He ran out of the room before Artoirel could stop him. “Where are you, where are you…!?”
“Odd, the boy struck me as the rather devoted type,” Thancred said.
“We will go look for him,” Achiyo said, and R’nyath came with her into the dark cold night.
R’nyath had found Honoroit by the airship landing, calling the others by linkpearl anxiously. Achiyo ran up in time to see him casting heals upon the boy, who lay still on the cold stone steps, the snow drifted a little around him. His face was still pale and bloody, his clothes dirty and torn. He must have lain there, abandoned, for hours…
“Honoroit!” Emmanellain shouted, dashing up to them with Thancred behind. He knelt before the boy, shaking. “No, no! What have they done to you? Honoroit! Honoroit!”
Honoroit’s brow furrowed, then he slowly opened his eyes. R’nyath let out a sigh of relief and lowered his globe. “…Is that you, my lord? You… you seem rather flustered.”
“Because of you, you imbecile!” Emmanellain exclaimed “What in the seven hells happened to you?”
“My… my apologies,” Honoroit said weakly. “Some few of the guests expressed a wish to leave… and I implored them to stay. It would seem… they took issue with my request.”
“Aww, that’s rude,” R’nyath said, and put an arm under Honoroit’s shoulders, helping him sit up and giving him something more comfortable to lean on than the icy steps. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you somewhere warm right away. Hang in there.”
“Oh, gods forgive me,” Emmanellain groaned. “If I had only been more careful with my words!”
Honoroit looked at him. “D-do not blame yourself, my lord. I know… I know that you and your brother have Ishgard’s best interests at heart. That poor woman… She lives in the past, clinging to the memories of the lost. But the future holds so much promise. So much joy. And you… you know that better than any…” He had such a hopeful, trusting little smile.
Emmanellain could only stare at him in disbelief, on the verge of tears, perhaps. Honoroit sighed and his head fell against R’nyath’s shoulder.
“Honoroit?” Emmanellain cried.
“It’s okay,” R’nyath assured him, but looking at Achiyo. “He will be fine, but we have to get him warm straight away. I healed his injuries,” he said with a wince, and Achiyo did not really want to know what that meant, “but not much I can do for exposure.”
She wished she had a cloak or something that she might lend it, but she did not. And clad in cold plate armour as she was, she might only steal more of his precious body heat. “Can you carry him?”
“He’s not so tall yet that I can’t,” R’nyath said, and scooped him up. “Yep, I got him. Let’s go back.”
Emmanellain got to his feet too as R’nyath trotted back towards the gate. “Gah! We were so close! Why does it all have to fall to pieces!? Don’t they want to live in peace!? Don’t they want to be happy!? We all want the same thing, and still – STILL it falls to pieces!” He turned to Achiyo, then to Thancred. “Tell me, what – what was I supposed to do, hm? Someone, anyone, tell me: what was I supposed to do!?”
Achiyo turned to him in anger. “You could have looked for me, for us! You are ever asking us for favours, why not now?”
Thancred put up a hand to calm her and fixed Emmanellain with a steely one-eyed gaze. “Stop looking to others. You make your choice and you live with the consequences.”
R’nyath had paused at the sound of raised voices behind him, and Emmanellain looked to him – to Honoroit, cradled carefully in the archer’s arms, still unnaturally pale and fragile-looking. And Emmanellain clenched his teeth and swung, punching Thancred square on the jaw. “And what would you know about consequences? You who always know just what to say, and just what to do! Your every deed is greeted with a round of applause!”
Thancred’s head had snapped to the side at the blow. And before Achiyo could so much as open her mouth at the audacity that Emmanellain had in his ignorance, at the pain he was not-entirely-intentionally inflicting with his words, Thancred had whirled around and struck back, giving Emmanellain a solid punch to the chest. Emmanellain fell heavily to the ground with an armoured clatter, skidding a few ilms on the icy stones.
“You know nothing about me,” Thancred hissed. “I have fought tooth and nail for the people I hold dear – done everything in my power to save them… and I have failed.” His voice turned deadly cold. “Learn to live with it. I have.” He turned on his heel and marched back towards the gate, overtaking R’nyath quickly. Emmanellain lay still. R’nyath shrugged and kept walking.
Achiyo left Emmanellain where he lay in his own despair and went to find Thancred. She eventually found him leaning on the parapet overlooking the aetheryte. “Will you be all right?”
He took a deep breath. “Yes. He doesn’t know anything about me. He was only lashing out. …I may have overreacted. But it needed to be done. He was becoming hysterical.”
Privately, she thought Thancred had certainly overreacted. But she could not blame him, either.
“I understand the desire to look for reasons,” Thancred said softly. “For excuses. To convince yourself you had no choice. But the past is the past, and there is naught to be gained from reliving your mistakes. I know this. I know this. But he…” He shook himself. “I have no desire to wait for the lordling to emerge from his puddle of self-pity. You must attend to your message-bearing to Ishgard. May I come with you? I am not minded to remain here.”
“You will be welcome to,” she said. “Though… there will be no more airships until dawn, and Aymeric-sama ought to have retired to rest by this hour. We will have to wait.” Whether he actually had gone to sleep yet was debatable, she gathered. Still, Thancred would not be able to Teleport with her.
He quirked an eyebrow at her behind his eyepatch. “Aymeric-sama?”
She gave him a calm stare in return. “It gives him the respect he is due, and it suits him.” Had he not heard her say it before? It did not matter. He shrugged.
Achiyo and Thancred found Count Edmont in Aymeric’s office when they arrived shortly after dawn the next morning. “Lady Achiyo… Master Thancred,” Aymeric greeted them. “Word of the demonstration and its resolution has outstripped you. Every man, woman, and child of Ishgard has heard the tale.”
“Hardly surprising,” Thancred murmured.
“‘Tis rumoured that my youngest’s lack of judgement was to blame,” Count Edmont said. “Of course… such stories are prone to exaggeration. What exactly came to pass?”
“I have here Lucia’s report,” Achiyo said, handing it over. “We ourselves did not witness the beginning of the disturbance…”
She told them as Aymeric read the report, though she saw his eyes drift up in concern when she told that the Warriors of Light had been drugged, and again when she told of the assault Honoroit had endured. Count Edmont’s hawkish face frowned steadily through the entire recounting.
“I see,” Count Edmont said when she was done. “So that is the truth of it. Regardless of his intent, the result is undeniable. He has furthered the cause of these misguided few who cannot let go of the past. In an instant, the delicate peace we were poised to forge is once more beyond us.”
“Only for a moment,” she said, and drew up some of what little philosophy she had learned when she was younger. “The conference may be delayed, but it will happen. When water is stymied, it waits patiently until it finds the right outlet. The time will come.” Though in this moment, she was not sure of it herself. But she remembered Aymeric’s conviction from before, remembered Vidofnir’s grace, and tried to hold on to it.
“All very well for you to say, you water-aspected soul,” Thancred said in aside. “What about the other five-sixths of us?”
“Lord Artoirel told Lucia as much: we have convinced the people before, and we will convince them again.”
Aymeric sighed and laid down the report. “I have long wondered, and wonder still: is it too soon? Have I been too impatient, too imprudent? For me, this peace could not come soon enough, and if we dally, naught will improve – yet mayhap a little more time to catch their breath would have made them more amenable to this drastic change.”
“Or given them more time to plan against it,” Count Edmont said. “Do not doubt yourself now. Your course is right.”
Aymeric nodded. “True. Yet… to dwell so deeply on the war and the vengeance it begets, only for that too to be taken away – is it any wonder that they were left bereft? For what was this sacrifice? Have we naught to show for our suffering? I thought peace a sufficient salve, but mayhap I was mistaken.” He stood and turned to look at the weapon display behind his seat. “We are warriors, Lord Edmont, and ours is a nation built on centuries of warfare. Right or wrong, this is who we are, and we deny it at our peril. To hold on to the past, without being beholden to it… Aye, we must needs find a way to honour the sacrifice of our forefathers without glorying in their excesses.”
“A difficult path, to be sure,” Count Edmont said. “We dare not deny the scars which mar our nation’s soul, lest we spur other disillusioned souls to retrace them… …But, as you say, we dare not revel in past glories either, for they are tainted all. A clear, unambiguous enemy, and an undeniably righteous cause… ‘Tis a bitter reflection, but lies though they were, they did long serve to unite us.”
“No truth will ever serve as well, I fear,” Aymeric said, and turned back to his desk, shuffling papers. “I must think on it.” He glanced up at Achiyo and Thancred, waiting patiently. “I thank you for coming so far to report these happenings. We shall speak again soon.”
Achiyo emerged from the Congregation and looked up at the sky. It was snowing again. “Mayhap such setbacks were only to be expected. Nothing in the world ever goes quite as planned, certainly not something like this.” She sighed. “It does not mean it is not discouraging.”
Thancred was silent with his own thoughts. Yes, the quest to rescue Minfilia had not gone as planned either.
“I should contact the others who were not there and inform them,” she said. She put her fingers to her earring that contained her linkpearl and tried to get Tam first, without much hope. He had not answered a single call from anyone since the Void Ark, and no one knew why or where he was.
But he answered now. If brusquely. “What?”
“Tam,” she said, a little surprised, but pleased. “Many things have happened since last we spoke… May we meet so I may apprise you of them?”
“No,” he said. “I have things to do.”
She frowned anxiously. “But if you do not know…”
“I will find out your things in my own way. But you’re perfectly capable of solving Ishgard’s problems without me. Call me if there’s a primal and not before.”
“Are… are you leaving us?”
“Goodbye, Achiyo,” he said, and disconnected.
I have a headcanon that Aymeric’s birthday is in September, making him an Azeyma baby, reflecting how he tends to get a little hotheaded when he has a cause to dedicate himself to – and also his warmth and passion, which may be hidden and controlled, but which burns steadily beneath his calm exterior.