There’s so much side content in Stormblood. I was going to call this chapter Tataru’s Undersea Adventure, but Achiyo and Aentfryn already ran Hell’s Lid. So, an assortment of loose threads being wrapped before we open some new cans of worms.
In gameplay I am completed replaying 5.0! I’m caught up to where I was originally. I’m going zoom zoom again until I get to the end of EW. Then I can plan out the story arcs. There’s so much stuff I really want to get to in this fic and then I get stuck on some silly thing (like how to get the Hildy dance to be canon).
Chapter 76: The Turning of Seasons
“There’s few so loath to take their rest, than ‘venturers without a quest. For shorn of work to give them worth, they soon become a source of mirth,” quoth the Wandering Dramaturge.
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” R’nyath said, R’inwa at his shoulder.
“I mean, if we’re not busy with something else,” Naomi said, Crim at hers.
“I suppose I could spare the effort, if you have something interesting,” Tharash said.
“I see I’ve struck a chord with you, my friends,” said the dramaturge. “My colleagues tell me that if one in this land ever needs an item fetched that you are the type to speak to. I find this philanthropic compulsion fascinating, and so – in the interests of research into my next play, let’s say – I seek to put said compulsion to the test… Assuming you are game, of course.”
“Sure,” R’nyath said. “What you got?”
“I mean, we do usually get compensated a bit,” Naomi said. “At least for the Teleport fees.”
“What!? No!” Vivienne said, passing nearby. “This man blatantly wants to take advantage of you, and you let him!? Even with compensation, such arrogance-”
“Well, if you’re not taking the quest, then stop making a lot of noise and let us take it,” R’nyath said. “You’ve got mercenary pride. We’ve got curiousity and free time.”
Vivienne gave him the blackest glower of her career and stalked away.
“All is well?” inquired the dramaturge. “She does seem upset.”
“She’s just looking out for us in her own grumpy way,” Naomi said. “Now, what’s the quest?”
“Bring me a bottle of wine,” said the dramaturge dramatically. “Ah, but not just any wine. Make it rose-themed. And make it Eorzean. I’ve had my fill of the bitter blends offered here in the East.”
“Hm, not as interesting as I thought,” Tharash said. “I’ll let you to it.”
“I’m still down,” R’nyath said. Naomi, Crim, and R’inwa nodded. “Any leads?”
“Haha, capital!” said the dramaturge. “Oh, if only there were some port where thirsty Eorzean went for their wine, you would surely be there speaking with its foremost blind Lalafellin vintner, and not here with me.”
“Right,” R’nyath said. “You guys are attuned to the Kugane aetheryte?”
“I assume you know who he’s talking about,” R’inwa said to him.
“Oh, yeah,” R’nyath said. “I wonder how he knows him.”
Naomi looked alarmed. “You’re going to Teleport all the way back to Eorzea and back?”
“Sure, it’ll only take a few days to get your aether back together. Less if you pop Return one way or the other. And I know you two have Return set to Limsa, which will make it really easy for you. R’inwa and I have Return set to Gridania, so… we’ll see you in a bit!”
“So nonchalant,” Crim said. “Very well, if you believe it’s that easy. Ready, dear?”
“Ready!”
“Idiots,” Vivienne muttered from the other side of the room.
Achiyo stood at the western gate out of Kugane, waiting. She heard hooves approaching at a walk behind her and turned, and saw Hiroari leading two horses, one tall and spotted brown and white, the other small and silver-grey. Before she could say or ask anything, or so much as bow in greeting, he gave her a proper formal bow. “Kensaki-san, allow me to thank you for your guidance these last sennights. I wrote to my father as he requested, and he sent our best small horse for you, as he promised. His name is Shirogane… obviously.”
“Hiroari-kun, so formal,” she teased him. “It is I who should thank you for your courage and skill in joining us on our quests on behalf of the Prima Vista crew, and coming with us to the Hell’s Lid.”
“Well, of course!” he said, with a puffed out chest. “I told you that you needed my help! I am the best warrior in Yamamatsu besides my father! Ha, maybe I’m better than him now!”
He was getting carried away. “You have certainly grown immensely. I hope he is proud of you on your return. But you have much more experience to gain before you surpass him.”
He deflated again thoughtfully. “I guess that’s true. But I’ve seen so much, done so much, that he could never have imagined. He’s never left Koshu, and I’ve been to Kugane, and all over Dalmasca now, and to the Ruby Sea! And from what everyone was saying, we’ve witnessed things, fought things, that even famous heroes rarely face.” He grinned at her. “So I’m a famous hero now too!”
“I’m sure the village will be sick of hearing of your exploits within a moon,” she said, teasing again. “And you learned that people aren’t lesser just because they are ijin.”
“I suppose,” he said, unwilling to admit it, yet unable to deny all the evidence to the contrary. “Also apparently the star is round, though I’m not sure I buy that one. I still think you’re having me on. Oh! The horse. Please, take him. Here’s his whistle, so you can summon him at need.”
“I thank you and your father for this great gift,” she said. What a coincidence that Tatewaki-sama had a small warhorse named ‘Silver’. “It is far too much for the small service I did, and I am grateful.” Percival had looked upon horses with suspicion for a long time… what would Aymeric think of such an outlandish – to his eyes – mount?
“Well… um… I guess I’ll be off home,” he said awkwardly. “May the kami guide you in your further adventures, and all that. And blessings on your wedding and your family.” He bowed.
“May the kami see you safely home, and watch over you and yours, until we meet again,” she said, and bowed back.
“Right. Goodbye… Onee-chan!” He mounted in a hurry.
“Impudence!” she exclaimed as he rode by her, and his giggle faded as he disappeared through the gate.
She chuckled to herself. “I suppose it all worked out, in the end.” Her birthplace was in good hands.
“They say a rose is a rose is a rose,” said the Wandering Dramaturge. “So tell me, adventurers, is that a rose in your pocket, or are you simply here for small talk?”
“What the heck,” Naomi said. “Obviously we’ve got you a bottle of something!”
“And it was a lot more trouble than it should have been,” R’inwa muttered.
“You might have mentioned it was the rarest wine in the world,” Crim said.
R’nyath presented their bottle-with-a-rose-on-the-label. “One nice-looking bottle of one-of-a-kind wine, as you requested.”
“A bottle of vintage Suhd Viandja!? You never cease to amaze!”
“He knew of it?” R’inwa said. “Incredible.”
“But what is most amazing is your impeccable sense of timing. Today marks the twelfth anniversary of the day I met my dear wife… And if there was one thing she loved more than wine, it was roses.” He sniffled a bit. “Would that she were here today to… to…”
“I’m very sorry,” Naomi said gently.
The dramaturge grinned. “Ah, but I jest. My wife is very much alive. In fact… she’s been here with us all along!” He got up and swished open a curtain to one of the alcoves in the tiring room, revealing an intimate set-up with two chairs, a table trimmed with a lace tablecloth and candelabra and roses, and a pair of wineglasses, and then turned to call towards the troupe’s leading lady, an extremely svelte Elezen. “Darling, would you care to join us?”
She came over and clapped her hands in delight. “For me? How thoughtful! But did you-”
“Forget the most important gift of all? Of course not!” the dramaturge exclaimed, whipping out a culinarian’s pan and sundry ingredients from a drawer near where he sat previously. “Bacon bread! The perfect companion to a perfect wine… for my perfect companion.”
The Elezen actress was practically swooning into her chair in the alcove. “Oh, darling… I think this might be our best anniversary yet!”
“Let’s leave them to it,” R’inwa said. “We can get paid later.”
“…I’m going to have a nap,” Crim said. “Maybe Vivienne was right after all.”
“Eh, I had fun,” R’nyath said.
“Yeah, me too,” Naomi said. “Good work, team!”
Achiyo, transported by auspice magic, found herself once more in the Reisen Temple beneath the Hell’s Lid. There she saw Aentfryn, surrounded by small auspices, some of them climbing on him. She felt like she’d never seen him so happy. She didn’t want to interrupt, but Chuchupa had no such concerns. “Ye said we had a fight to do? A friendly one?”
“Hm,” Aentfryn said, as several auspices scattered at their approach. The chubby cat, Senri, however, simply rolled over in his lap, purring. “Though neither of us should seek to slay each other, there is a chance it could turn deadly. But yes.”
“Will you explain from the beginning?” Kekeniro asked. “A friendly but urgent fight seems quite unusual.”
“You see the white tiger being shy over round the corner of the temple?” Aentfryn said, pointing. “That’s Byakko, one of the Four Lords. Each auspice has a balance of tranquillity and rage inside them. The Four Lords have been alive long enough that the balance is skewed, and they’re at risk of being consumed by their rage and becoming irredeemable demons. Like the one sealed away inside the temple.”
“Essentially,” Senri said lazily. “You have to quell the aramitama before it overwhelms the nigimitama.”
“We have to beat the shite out of him to calm him down,” Aentfryn said.
“Oh, we can do that!” Yllamse said.
“Obviously,” Aentfryn said. “But I suspect, looking at his aether, that this will be as difficult as a primal battle. And he will probably lose control of his mind and his powers. So, here you are.”
“Except fighting not to kill, for once,” Tam said. “Sounds like fun.”
“Can we…” R’nyath lowered his voice to a whisper. “Can we pet him afterwards?”
“Goodness gracious, what a question,” Senri said. “Pet Byakko, of the Four Lords?”
“I mean, he’s really fluffy,” R’nyath said. “Just asking.”
“Maybe you should ask after we beat the crap out of him and restore his… equilibrium,” Vivienne said. “Right, let’s go.”
Aentfryn gave Senri a look, and she got off with a stretch and a yawn that pronounced it was her idea. “He would like to fight us in Yanxia,” he said. “He took me to the location – it is in a bamboo forest near the House of the Fierce. I’ll take us there now.”
It was a bit of a walk from the House of the Fierce, and the days were getting short and cold. There was already a light dusting of frost on the ground. A change after fighting in the Dalmasca Desert or the humidity of the Golmore Jungle or even the subtropical climes of the Ruby Sea and Kugane. “Hey, so I had a thought,” R’nyath said.
“Are you certain?” Vivienne said.
“Oh, what is it?” Kekeniro asked.
“Well, isn’t it about time you all called me Nyath? I mean, we’ve been friends for years, fighting through thick and thin. We’ve been through a lot and we trust each other. And hopefully like each other.”
“Sure,” said Kekeniro at once.
“Does that go for me too?” Yllamse asked. “I’ve known you for years but like we only got to be friends recently.”
“Oh, for sure!” R’nyath said. “You’re part of the team now!”
“I’m not sure I can,” Achiyo said. “I understand the significance, and yet… To me your name is R’nyath. Nyath feels unfamiliar to me, not more familiar.” Even though it was virtually identical to offering to allow Aymeric to call her Chiyo. Maybe that was why he hadn’t been satisfied with it either.
“Well, as you like,” R’nyath said. “If you don’t care for it, that’s fine. But I’m just saying, you can if you like, and I’ll like it.”
“First I’d have to be usin’ yer name,” Chuchupa said. “But yeah! Hey, Achiyo, ain’t the Hingan word for ‘meow’ ‘nya’? Hey, Meowth!”
R’nyath blushed. “Um. I guess that’s exactly what I expected from you.”
“I don’t mind the privilege,” Aentfryn said. “Also, we’re here.”
The white tiger awaited them in a clearing in a bamboo grove, by a stream, with some of Yanxia’s distinctive towering cliffs nearby. As he saw them approach, he did some kind of complicated somersault into the air, and his form lengthened and shifted… into a man. A snow-white furred man, with tiger stripes, and a majestic mane… and a tiger’s head in place of his right arm.
“Whoa,” R’nyath said. “Except for whatever’s going on with his right arm, he is hot.”
Byakko-the-man certainly had very exaggerated musculature, though Achiyo found his face, while handsome, a bit too wild and intimidating to truly be attractive. Once more she wondered what Aymeric’s body looked like beneath his armour…
“So what ye’re sayin’ is… ye’re into Hrothgar,” Chuchupa said.
“I haven’t met any Hrothgar,” R’nyath said. “Maybe…?”
“Do we need to leave you at home?” Vivienne said.
“Make him do a spin,” R’nyath muttered. “I wanna see if he’s caked up on the back too. Okay, okay, I’ll behave. I’m ready!”
The adventurers raised their weapons. Byakko roared, no trace of recognition or tranquillity in his expression. This was become a battle to the death.
No one had died, though not from lack of Yllamse trying to be used as a football as the giant had kicked and punched and cast spells at them. Vivienne had been knocked down and mauled by his tiger form several times, and was examining the resulting rents in her armour. Aentfryn had been struck by several spells and was looking more beat-up than usual… but still happy as he gently soothed Byakko’s huge tiger form where it was slumped on his side, panting hard. Their Scholar really did get along better with animals than people, Achiyo considered.
At length, Byakko got to his four feet, bowed politely, and said he would meet them back at Reisen Temple. He sounded tired, but contented. It seemed their mission had been a success.
“So we’ll have to fight two more Lords at some point?” Vivienne asked, leaving off fussing over her armour.
“That’s correct,” Aentfryn said. “Suzaku and Seiryu – though you probably already knew that from cultural osmosis.”
“I missed that bit of osmosis,” Vivienne said. “Well, call if you need me. I need to take a few days off to drink and beat the shite out of a slab of metal.”
“I didn’t know you did blacksmithing,” Kekeniro said. “Fixing your armour?”
Vivienne shook her head. “Calling it such is probably a stretch. It’s low-quality junk. I don’t have the time or inclination to actually be good at it; I can do my own armour in a pinch but I’ll be giving it to someone else to do an actual good job today. But it helps me work things out.”
“I hope we shall not be needed too soon,” Achiyo said. “I received a letter from my brother saying that I really must come deal with my wedding dress.”
“Oh my gods, your dress!!” exclaimed R’nyath. “It’s already ready!?”
“No, not at all,” Achiyo said. “They have my measurements, and apparently a designer has been hard at working coming up with concepts, but it is subject to my approval and they will want to see how it actually fits to my body. With every eye in Ishgard upon me, it must be perfect.”
“It’ll be perfect,” Kekeniro said. “I guarantee Aymeric will adore you in it.”
“Thank you,” Achiyo said, and forestalled further questions as quickly as she could. “I really don’t know anything else right now. That’s why I must go back quickly. I shall return as soon as I can.”
“Take your time,” Aentfryn said. “The aramitama is building but it’s not going to explode in the immediate future. It could be a few moons before it becomes urgent.”
“And I suppose in the meantime you’ll be doting on all the auspices,” Vivienne said. “Enjoy yourself. Gods know you deserve it.”
“I don’t know,” Achiyo said. “They are all spectacular. I’m not sure I could wear any of them.” She sat on a sofa in the Fortemps drawing room, wedding dress designs spread across the coffee table before her. Artoirel sat beside her, curating, Emmanellain was roaming restlessly, and Honoroit and Saulette were standing politely in the corner.
Artoirel raised his eyebrows at her. “You are too modest. You are already acclaimed as a great beauty, as well as a great hero. What stands in your way of making a bid for ‘most beautiful woman in the world’?”
She laughed at the teasing. At least it felt like teasing. “Even when I bought the most beautiful kimono I could, the pink one that I wore to the engagement party, none of my outfits have ever cost even a fraction of this amount.” Some of the scribbled notes said things like “the most expensive lace west of Ilsabard” or “enough pearls to strangle a goobue”. It made her uncomfortable. And this was just the dress. What about the rest of the ceremony? She had no idea what House Fortemps’ finances were, but she would be very put out if they bankrupted themselves over this.
“Ah!” Artoirel held up a finger to silence her objections. “None of that. A daughter of House Fortemps you are now, and as a daughter of House Fortemps you shall be wed. Do not even look at the cost. That is for me.” That was what she’d been afraid of…
“But even half of this could feed and clothe so many,” she objected. “And you purport to put it on my singular self – what if I tear it, or stain it?”
“Then you’ll have had a wedding worth remembering, of course!” Emmanellain said, but relented when he saw that made Achiyo even more upset.
“Achiyo,” Artoirel said gently, “it is plain to all that you and Ser Aymeric could marry wearing burlap in a woodshed and be perfectly happy together. If this were not between the Lord Commander and one of the High Houses, if this were not the most anticipated social event in Aldenard, if if if… But it is, and so despite the foolishness, we must keep up appearances. So think no more on it. Come, pick something.”
Achiyo sighed and picked up one of the design sketches. Artoirel was the responsible one, he wouldn’t bankrupt his family. “But they are all so nice, how am I to choose?”
“Well, which ones d’you think you don’t like so well, old girl?” Emmanellain said, leaning over the back of the sofa. “May as well start narrowing down the elements you do like.”
She blinked at them. It was too overwhelming. She was still tired from the trip back, even if she’d used Return to get back to Ishgard.
“Does not Chuchupa call you ‘princess?” Artoirel said. “I recommended a princess-like bent on that basis.”
Achiyo blushed deeply. “You know I am not actually a princess. It is teasing.”
“You’re damn close to one,” Emmanellain said. “Oh, I know, your birth father wasn’t exactly a king, but with your looks and bearing? If you weren’t an exiled fairy-tale royal, you ought to be!”
Artoirel shook his head at his brother. “More importantly, Ser Aymeric is a die-hard romantic. Aren’t you reading Isobelle and Martellot?”
“How’s that going, by the way?” Emmanellain put in.
Artoirel raised a hand to silence him. “If you appear before him in a princess gown, I don’t believe his knees will hold him.”
Achiyo could not hold in her laughter. “You make a strong argument, ser.”
It was shocking how quickly the dress came together, once she’d decided on various aspects she liked, but daily fittings for a sennight might have had something to do with it. It seemed that indeed Hingan-inspired clothing had become very fashionable among the upper crust, but she did not want some strange hybrid ‘inspired’ by her homeland. And since Ishgard probably still wasn’t ready for her to be married in a kimono, Artoirel’s princess dress it was.
She’d chosen a white gown with a skirt that poofed out from the waist, and the weaver had made that from the most light, diaphanous, floaty silk and tulle and more petticoats than she could shake her sword at. There was a panel down the front in the outermost skirt which was richly embroidered in silver and pearls, and the edge was trimmed in layers of that horrifically expensive lace; besides that, it was quite simple.
It floated around her effortlessly as she walked and spun in the weaver’s studio. It was not so poofy that her tail was lost inside it, which was a comfort. Though that would only be a problem if she had to fight, and if she had to fight at her wedding she had more problems than that.
The bodice was a lot harder to agree on. The weaver wanted to put in a lot of corseting to boost her small bust, or else, she said, Achiyo would look like a fancy feather duster – a stick on a puff. Achiyo, used to being praised for having very even measurements up and down her body, did not like this idea. Eventually she accepted corseting… but without any bust enhancements! She didn’t care if they thought she looked like a stick on a puff. That the big skirt made the rest of her look smaller. She was small.
At first she was dead-set against having a low neckline as well. She had rarely showed so much skin in public in her life, except perhaps wearing a light dress to the Moonfire Faire, and the other Scions had worn far less, even Vivienne. But the dropped shoulders did look alluring and romantic, and she decided that on this, at least, she might be a little daring. The sleeves trailed in a way that vaguely reminded her of her old furisode, but with a triangular shape instead of square, and again with the lace and the silver and the pearls it was rather different.
And then she wanted peach blossoms, if not sakura. Clusters of exquisite pale pink silk-and-gemstone flowers at her waist, at her bosom, dripping from the sleeves, it added the touch that made it perfect to her. And about her neck, a necklace of silver with peach blossoms of pink pearls and other glittering gems, and on her head, a diadem of silver and pearls attached to a sheer veil that trailed for yalms. Saulette and a couple other young Fortemps maids began enthusiastically practicing to carry the train of the veil. It was very impractical for dancing, so the weaver incorporated a shorter version with a glamour prism.
But then she had to argue with them about shoes. Every single Elezen involved thought she needed to be taller. She took one look at the heels they were proposing and declined. Even if she didn’t have to fight, and Emmanellain had technically showed her how to walk in heels, she was going to be wearing them for an entire day, plenty of time to trip sooner or later. And no one was going to see her feet under all those skirts. And Aymeric would notice if her height changed.
Naturally, she was not spending all her time on the wedding gown, and had ample time to visit Aymeric when he had a spare moment. “How is work treating you?” she asked, eager to share in any potential mundanity as relief from the wild adventures she’d been part of.
He chuckled as they strolled hand-in-hand through the market, his personal guard following at a discreet distance. A light snow was falling, so she was wearing warm furry mittens. Aymeric had said they were cute. “Recently, there was a proposal made to open a ward of the lower city to residential purchase – by adventurers, or at least non-Ishgardians.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And how did that go over.”
“One would think they had suggested setting the Vault on fire,” he said, with a quirk of his mouth, and she laughed. “I do not think it a bad plan, if properly implemented. But it will take time for a consensus to be made. But if we must speak of politics, I am far more curious about Doma and our friend Lord Hien. What does he face these days?”
At least walking about in public like this meant that she could tell him everything without getting interrupted and sidetracked by kisses. Though she had no doubt that after dinner, and another chapter of Isobelle and Martellot – they were getting rather near the end, and about time – there would be opportunity for that as well. That was what she looked forward to the most, when she could sit on his lap with her head on his shoulder, safe and warm in his arms, and simply rest, hearing his breath, his heartbeat.
In the meantime, she told him of her recent experiences, and tried to see how many times she could make him laugh with the hijinks of her friends. He was the most beautiful when he laughed.
“R’nyath,” came Naomi’s anguished tones through the linkpearl. “You remember that wine we spent a week getting for that ungrateful writer?”
“Yeah? Did Gegeruju find out we swindled him?” R’nyath said.
“No! Worse! It’s not that rare!”
“Um?”
“Look, just come back to the Prima Vista if you want to know more. Bugger, we’re going to have to do the right thing and stuff.”
R’nyath chuckled. “You’re a pirate, do you really care?”
“Not for Gegeruju! But Shamani deserves better.”
“You have a point. I’ll grab my brother and be right over. We’ll fix this.”
The four Lalafells stumped together off the ship, looking around at the towering dour cloudy cliffs around them.
“I knew it. I knew it,” Krile said. “From the moment we arrived… Despite everything that has happened here, there can be no mistake.”
“Aye. I hate to admit it, but you had the right of it…” Ejika Tsunjika, Krile’s… acquaintance, said.
Krile turned to face Kekeniro and Chuchupa. “I said I would tell you everything if my suspicions proved true, and so I will. The reason I urged the Scions to approve my participation in this expedition… is because this island… is the Isle of Val.” She gestured around them, at the little ramshackle port, at the high mountains further inland. “The selfsame island that once served as the headquarters and home of the Students of Baldesion. An island that belongs on the other side of the world, that was obliterated by a terrible magick…”
“Whoaaaa,” Chuchupa said. “That was the thing that ye survived thanks to the Blessing of Light, just like we survived Ultima! Er, robot Ultima.”
“Exactly,” Krile said.
Kekeniro tapped his chin. “I… see why you wanted me to come. That is certainly inexplicable.”
“I was fortunate to have been elsewhere at the time, but I know you were not so lucky,” Ejika said. “I don’t suppose you have any idea how it could have ended up here in the Glass Ocean?”
Krile shook her head. “Alas, my memories of the incident are muddled. All I recall is a voice – that of the star, I suspect. Faint and fleeting, but warm… and then I awoke on the shore of Old Sharlayan.”
“How convenient for you and utterly unhelpful for the rest of us.” Ejika rolled his eyes. “Would that more than Galuf’s chosen heir could have received this ‘blessing’ of Light.” He began to stride away.
“And where are you off to now, Ejika?” Krile asked.
Ejika paused, though he didn’t turn back around. “To find anyone else that might still be alive. I’ll thank you not to follow – I work better alone.”
Chuchupa snickered. “Haha what a prick. Go get eaten then, not my problem.”
“That’s rude, he could be helpful, if he felt like it,” Kekeniro said. “It’d be better for everyone if we cooperated.”
Ejika glanced at them sidelong, considering. “…Hmph. I suppose you are not without your uses, given your proven capacity for survival. And violence.” He turned back towards them, all haughtiness. “A proposal, then. Should I learn anything of significance, I will return here and share it with the rest of you. Does that satisfy, Krile?”
Krile nodded with a funny little smile, and Ejika turned on his heel and marched off.
“He’s a handful, I know…” Krile said apologetically.
“Well, forget ‘im, we’d rather work with ye, anyway,” Chuchupa said. “I’m sure ye’re just as smart as him, and for anything as needs murderin’ ye’ve got me axe. And Kekeniro’s no pushover in either brains or killin’, as ye know.”
Krile smiled ruefully. “You needn’t worry about me. I am more than capable of defending myself.”
“Are ye?” Chuchupa asked.
“Actually, I am,” Krile answered, patting the thaumaturge staff on her back. “Shocking, I know. So – we have a mystery on our hands. Somehow the Isle of Val was transported from one corner of the world to this one. Ejika is right in that our first priority should be to confirm whether or not any of our comrades that were here are still alive. If someone is, then perhaps they will be able to help us understand what happened.”
“I’ll do what I can, though I should get back to my family regularly,” Kekeniro said. “We’ve made it to the Doman Enclave, and we’re taking a break there – Hien said the weather might not be great for travelling to the Steppe for the next sennight or so, so I’ll help out until then.”
“Of course,” Krile said. “I appreciate both of you helping more than you know.”
“Kozakura!” R’nyath called, jogging up to the Shazenkai office. “Hello, beautiful!”
Kozakura pouted at him. “You were gone so long!”
“Ah, sorry, sorry… I’ll tell you all about it, though. In song, if you like!”
She put her head down, looking at the ledgers before her. “Not right now. I’m working. If you want to go to my house, you can make yourself useful and get dinner and prepare tea. I’ll be done in two bells.”
“Okay,” R’nyath said, confused. She seemed kind of upset.
Two bells later, she came into her house where he’d set out an extra-nice table, with her favourite noodles and some fish and sweet bean buns for dessert. “Oh, it looks so nice…”
“You sounded stressed, so I wanted to make it nice for you,” R’nyath said. “What’s been going on in the Enclave? People making trouble for you?”
She sat down across from him and lifted a bunch of noodles onto her plate. “Oh, well… it’s not that. The houses are pretty much done, and now Master Tsuranuki and Master Araragi can bicker over who gets the next batch of building supplies… Things are actually going really smoothly.” She slurped some noodles and seemed to start to relax. “I guess it is rather stressful even when it’s going well.”
“And that’s why you’re upset?”
She frowned at her plate. “I’m upset because I missed you. You were gone so long.”
“Ah.” Since the Scions had grabbed him for more adventure, he’d been in and out. True, he’d taken a bit longer to deal with this silly wine thing, but he hadn’t thought it was that long? “I thought about you the whole time, though. Just I had quests to fulfil. Do you want to hear the stories? Some of them are pretty crazy.”
Kozakura finally looked up at him with her big dark eyes and smiled. “Okay. Tell me what happened this time.”
Late into the night, R’nyath woke. Kozakura was sitting up on her futon beside him, moonlight shining through a crack in the window shutters on her bare body. “Everything all right?” he whispered.
She looked at him, startled. “Did I wake you?”
“Little bit.” Miqo’te senses were pretty sharp, even though they could also sleep very deeply.
“Sorry. I just… have a lot to think about.”
“Okay,” he said. “…Should I pretend to be asleep again?”
She giggled a bit. “That won’t work.”
He reached out an arm to her. “Come here, then. Don’t be cold. Unless you were overheating.”
“No, I wasn’t overheating,” she said, and burrowed down beside him, into his arms. He stroked her hair and nuzzled her forehead.
“So what’s got you thinking so late?” he murmured.
Kozakura sighed. “This. I wish you could stay more. It’s warmer with you. More comforting.”
He adjusted the blankets and held her tighter. “I bet it is warmer. Well, I don’t have anything planned for a little bit. I can stay a while.”
“Until one of your adventurer friends sends you a message, and then you’re gone again,” she said dolefully. “I’m grateful for your help when you’re here, I just… I don’t feel very important.”
“You’re so important, Kozakura,” he said, kissing her head. “Very important. To me. To everyone here, and to me. It’s not that. But I’m an adventurer, and I’m on a team that needs me and my skills just like your people need you and yours. I’m not very useful around here, really, not since you finished building simple houses that any dummy could work on.” He donated whatever extra loot he picked up, spare bits of gear or even the occasional piece of building material, but anybody could do that.
She sighed again and was still.
“Kozakura?”
“I know… you explained it before you left the first time… I thought I knew what it meant. But I get so lonely…”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll try and find a way to keep you company even when I’m away. Maybe I can get a speciality link-pearl that can talk to you no matter where I am. We’ll figure out something.”
Now she relaxed and it felt like she meant it. “Thank you. I’m sorry for complaining… You’re off saving the world…”
“Sure, but you’re saving your people. You have needs too.” And he ought to be thankful she’d managed to voice them in the dark of the night. She’d been bottling it up on all his other visits. “Can we talk more about it in the morning?”
“Okay.” She snuggled a bit closer and her breathing began to even out.
He was kind of anxious now, it was true. But he’d also Teleported a long way, and before too long he was zonked out completely.
“Boy, am I glad ye were all in the vicinity,” Chuchupa said. “Ye know how tricksy Greg can be, and he weren’t even in his usual form.”
“It was a bit alarming to hear that Yojimbo had issued such a challenge, but I would never have dreamed that it was Gilgamesh,” Achiyo said, staring at the bizarre warrior narrating his adventures for Hildibrand. “I remember you told me of him at length previously.”
“But why was the chicken green?” asked Alphinaud. “How was the chicken green?”
“I should have known he’d be back eventually,” Vivienne said. “If Hildibrand comes back like a bad gil, Gilgamesh must as well.”
“I like Inspector Hildy!” Yllamse said cheerfully. “We’ve crossed paths on occasion. He’s always got something fun going on!”
“You would,” Aentfryn muttered.
“I am inclined to agree,” Alisaie said. “He seems a magnet for the strangest sort of oddness.”
“I for one am glad to see both of them again,” R’nyath said. “It’s been a while for Gil.”
“Well, now we know what he was up to,” Kekeniro said.
“Far-fetched as it is,” Tam said.
Gilgamesh finished his tale and gestured to them all. “As I said to you on the bridge, no more tricks! I have taken my shot and fallen short, and so I will cease my shenanigans-”
“Good,” Vivienne said.
“-and instead pledge my complete support to your endeavours, that I might make amends for my misdeeds!”
“Great,” Vivienne said. Maybe sarcastically.
“And we should be glad to have it, Greg!” Hildibrand said. “Welcome aboard! Let us return to Nashu and share with her the wonderful news! You too, Greg! You’re a full-fledged assistant, now! Truly, this was a twist that no one could have possibly seen coming!” He posed… and began to dance.
Not the Manderville Dance, but something actually somewhat elegant, incorporating all his poses and mannerisms.
Then Chuchupa joined in. Then R’nyath. Then Gilgamesh. Then Tam of all people-
It looked ridiculous. It was ridiculous. Why was everyone joining in? It was infectious. Passersby were staring. Everything about this man’s life was ridiculous, ludicrous, hilariously improbable and highly undignified-
Achiyo laughed and began to dance.
“Cirina!” cried Lilidi. “We made it!”
“Ah! Lilidi!” cried Cirina, beaming at the Lalafell family, arriving at the Mol winter camp; Lilidi on a horse, Kekeniro on a carbuncle. “‘Tis so good to see you again! We missed you very much. We shall have a feast to celebrate!”
“If you’re sure,” Lilidi said. “I know it’s well winter, and resources must be saved…”
“Do not think on it!” Cirina said. “We wish to welcome you back, especially in light of what your message said. You… do mean to stay, do you not?”
Lilidi and Kekeniro nodded. “This is the land that we love best,” Kekeniro said, gesturing to it all. “It’s wide and open and free. I will undoubtedly still want to see new places beyond, and I’ll have to pop in and out all the time to help the Scions, but this is home now. The time we spent here before made that clear.”
Lilidi smiled at her husband. “I agree wholeheartedly. This is the land I was looking for all my life. And if you and your people accept me, then they are my people too.”
Cirina reached down to clasp both their hands, looking like she was about to cry. “My friends… of course we accept you! Thank you! Thank you!” She seemed to recollect herself. “Now let us get in out of the cold wind, my goodness. You are well dressed for the weather, but still the chill bites hard.”
Alphinaud, Alisaie, Chuchupa, Achiyo, Tam, Shigure, the Wolf Burglar, Akebono the corrupt merchant, and Godbert Manderville stared at the empty Bekko beach where a moment before Hildibrand, Gilgamesh, Nashu, and a Radz-at-Han drug dealer had been standing. Somehow Gilgamesh had opened a portal and dragged the other three into it, the drug dealer on purpose, Hildibrand and Nashu less so.
Godbert burst out laughing. “Ohoho! There he goes, my beloved son! Not content to fly off into the sky as before, this time he elects to take his leave by vanishing into the earth! Brief though our time was together, I cannot deny how much he has grown, both as an inspector extraordinaire and a Manderville man besides. I say, a father could not be more proud!”
“Hm, I wonder what my parents would think of me being here,” Tam said.
“You have parents?” Alisaie asked in disbelief.
“Yes?” Tam said, chuckling. “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I appeared fully formed from thin air.”
“But that means… ye would have been a kid once,” Chuchupa said. “Impossible!”
“An innocent, unjaded child?” Tam said. “Once, perhaps. I barely remembered that time even before I ended up here.”
Alphinaud turned to the others, looking uncertain. “He will be back, right?”
“Yup,” Chuchupa said. “‘S only a matter o’ time.”
Achiyo was struggling not to smile, for some reason. She seemed to have accepted the Hildibrand vortex of insanity, like Cyr had done eventually back in Ishgard, and it was about damn time, it had only been… years! But she still seemed to think it was rude to laugh at the shenanigans. Chuchupa did not hold back, Hildibrand didn’t care! “Safe journeys to him and Nashu, wherever they are.”
“Lilidi-” Kekeniro said. “But we just got here.”
Lilidi giggled as she nursed Rurutegu in the corner of their ger, the tent-like hut that Mol people lived in. They shared it with two other families, but there was still plenty of space. “Ten whole days ago. I’m settled in! And Krile wrote about developments, did she not?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“And you want to go look at the next bit of Eureka, don’t you?”
“Yes…”
“Then stop pouting, go research, and then come back!” Lilidi said. “We’re not too far from Reunion, and you have oodles of aether to Teleport with. You can come back anytime!”
Kekeniro sighed and relented. “And you’ll be having too much fun with Cirina anyway.” Life on the Steppe in winter wasn’t exactly fun, that was being flippant. But Lilidi was enthusiastically throwing herself into daily life with the Mol. They’d done it the year before, too, while waiting for the Naadam. But now they had Rurutegu with them, or rather Rurutegu had a good dozen unrelated aunties and uncles and cousins to help look after him. He even seemed to like dzo milk, though Kekeniro wasn’t the biggest fan himself. As far as dairy went, he was a pure-bred Eorzean. But the rest of the cuisine was delicious.
Lilidi nodded. “I will be fine. Rurutegu will be fine. Temulun Khatun will look after us all.”
“Okay,” Kekeniro said, and kissed her. “I’ll go tomorrow, then. I am curious about Eureka. I’m going to have to have Ifrit out permanently, though, apparently the next region is called Pagos and it’s cold at the best of times.”
“Even though it’s in the Glass Ocean?” Lilidi asked. “South of Hingashi?”
“Yeah… it’s got a confluence of ice aether.”
“Hmm… like Coerthas? Maybe researching it would help Coerthas be less cold.”
“I’m not sure,” Kekeniro said. “It’s a thought. But I think Eureka was made the way it is under extraordinary circumstances. The Calamity was an extraordinary circumstance, but a rather different one.”
“Oh, well, I don’t know about magic,” Lilidi said. “Just about hunting.” She put her head on his shoulder. “You can tell me all about it when you get back.”
He cuddled her. “Thanks for the push. You’re the best.”
Chapter 77: Mirror