Newfound Adventure
The moon hung high above Revenant’s Toll, casting its heavenly light upon the bustling town below. Many of the town’s denizens had turned in for the night, and many more were still out and about, plying their trade as best they could under the cover of night. For Mor Dhona was still a frontier of endless newfound adventure, even to this day—and so long as it remained so, Revenant’s Toll would never sleep.
At the center of the town’s plaza stood an aetheryte, no different from the many issued to the various city-states of Eorzea and their outlying territories. Adventurers and other sorts hurried to and from it, popping in and out of existence under the auspices of its gentle blue light. Though each of them was no doubt someone of some import to someone else, few would catch as many eyes as the two travelers who arrived just then.
The first was a tan Hyuran woman of average build dressed in a soft pink draped gown, her steely blue eyes seeming to glow from the aetheryte reflecting as she turned towards it. The second, arriving mere seconds after her, was a tall and dark Viera wearing a matching white gown, the same color as her long unbound hair.
“‘Tis good to be home once more,” the Hyur began, closing her eyes as she placed a hand over her heart. “Do you suppose anyone is waiting for us?”
“Tataru, maybe,” the Viera replied, her eyes flitting warily about, her voice falling to a whisper. “They’re staring. Talking about us.”
“Let them.” Standing on the tips of her toes, the Hyur reached up and pulled the Viera into a kiss. Then, breaking it, she began to whisper as well. “But if you could tell me what it is they’re saying…”
“... About what you’d expect,” said the Viera, frowning.
With a quiet sigh, the Hyur shook her head. “Pray ignore them. They’ll like as not get over the surprise in a few days.” Then, taking the Viera by the hand, she led her towards the doors of Seventh Heaven, a nearby tavern. “Come, we mustn’t keep Tataru Taru waiting.”
And just like that, the pair disappeared. First through the tavern’s doors, and then through another set leading deeper within. Yet the whispers about town did not cease. The Warrior of Light was back, and with her was a woman long thought dead and gone—the Antecedent of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.
Minfilia Warde.
***
As she stepped through the doors to the waiting hall of the Rising Stones, Minfilia felt awash beneath a wave of nostalgia. How many years had it been since she’d last set foot in Revenant's Toll? Since she’d harkened to the words of Hydaelyn, and cast aside her very life in service to Her designs?
Two years by the Eorzean calendar, she mused. Or a century by her own reckoning.
Her movement had slowed to a crawl, and against her better judgment her cheeks had adorned themselves with pearlescent tears. It was not like her to be so open with her true feelings, but as she brought her hand up to wipe them away, Lily’s hand swiftly caught her own, clutching it firmly.
“Welcome home, Antecedent,” she whispered with a wink. “Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll whip up a hot meal for you.”
Though she was more than happy to accept her lover’s advances, Minfilia felt the need to decline. “You’ve not had a wink of sleep in two days, Lily, and I’d sooner cook myself than watch you fall face first into a boiling pot of popoto broth.”
“Oh, now don’t go and do something silly like that, or else she’ll only get to savor you once in her lifetime.”
Sharing a nervous chuckle with Lily, Minfilia turned her attention to the source of the voice. Standing in the doorway to her former office was none other than her oldest friend amongst the Path of the Twelve, Tataru Taru.
“How lovely to see you again!” Tataru exclaimed, approaching them both with a warm smile. “How was your trip, if you don’t mind sharing?”
“As uneventful as a warzone can be,” Lily offered with a brusque shrug.
And wasn’t that the truth? The war for Dalmasca’s independence was already over before they’d even arrived—the IVth Legion had all but disbanded in the wake of their leaders’ deaths, arrest, or desertion. In the fourteen weeks they’d spent in the war torn nation, they’d done more volunteer work and training than anything else.
Yet there were still battles to be had. Stragglers and dissidents holding out, for one reason or another. Though Minfilia was loath to admit it, there was a semblance of glory to be had dealing with them, if only in the stories told around campfires in the twilit hours of the night.
“I’m afraid she has the right of it,” Minfilia began, following up on Lily’s statement. “There was no war left to fight for Ascilia, newly born Warrior of Light. Nor for her shadow, the mysterious Black Vulture, for that matter.”
Almost immediately, Lily shot her a surprised glare, her cheeks reddening and her ears twitching at the sound of Tataru’s stifled giggling.
“The Black Vulture?” she asked, as incredulous as Minfilia herself had been when she’d first heard the moniker. “I know that outfit she’d commissioned for traveling was rather terrifying, but really? Do go on, please.”
Please don’t, screamed the pleading look on Lily’s face. But it was already too late.
“They’d have no doubt used her real name had she deigned to give it,” Minfilia began, barreling forward with a beaming grin. “But she insisted she was ‘just another daughter of Dalmasca’, so her fellows in the Resistance had to come up with something.”
“For the record,” Lily tried to protest, pausing ever so slightly as she narrowed her eyes, “I... gave an alias—‘Ktjn’. But you can hardly throw a rock without just missing a Ktjn in Dalmasca.”
“Is that so? I’d have figured flowery names like ‘Galbana Lily’ would be more common…” As she trailed off, Tataru motioned for the pair to have a seat at one of the nearby tables. “So, what daring antics saw her stuck with that strange nickname, then?”
As she sat down, Minfilia pulled the chair closest to her closer, then patted it. Only once Lily took her seat did she continue. “Just picture it, my friend. Lily, all dressed in black, perched upon the tallest of towers. She sees a small band of her fellow soldiers about to be ambushed by several IVth Legion soldiers…”
“So she swoops down off her perch and takes them out in one fell swoop!” Tataru clapped her hands in apparent delight. “Cleaning up the holdouts like a scavenger. No wonder they’d come up with such a macabre name for you.”
“Can we please move on?” asked Lily, burying her face in her arms as she leaned down upon the table.
With a shrug of her shoulders, a shake of her head, and a bemused grin, Tataru turned away. “Alright then. If you’re not in too much of a rush, I was just about to make a pot of tea. Would you both like a cup?”
“I would be delighted,” said Minfilia, before turning to Lily. her beloved was peeking up from under the cover of her makeshift pillow, her eyes half-lidded with fatigue. “How about you, love? If you’d rather turn in for the night, I shall join you anon.”
“I’ll have some too,” Lily answered, stretching her arms out like a waking cat. “We didn’t stop for dinner on the way back either, so—”
“Say no more,” Tataru interrupted, her voice trailing off as she hurried away. “Make yourselves comfortable, and I’ll find us something to nibble on as well.”
It was not long after that the three found themselves dining in dim candlelight on an assorted array of sweets: biscuits, muffins, macarons, and a doughnut each. It was an odd meal for dinner, Minfilia mused, but Tataru had truly come into her own since her departure unto Hydaelyn’s side—there was no gainsaying the scrumptious quality of these baked goods.
In fact, it took quite a bit of willpower to pull herself away after the first treat. After a sip of warm tea—a blend mixed with kukuru powder, by the look and taste of it—she smiled and folded her hands upon her lap.
Tataru, having caught her eye, gave a knowing nod, then gazed over her shoulder at the silent halls beyond.
“It’s so much quieter these days without everyone around…” she said, a hint of wistfulness in her voice.
“... So it is,” Minfilia replied, her mind winding back to what was once her final hours within the Rising Stones.
The Scions were to attend a banquet in Ul’dah, celebrating Ishgard’s survival against the throngs of the Dravanian Horde. With all in attendance or performing their duty, she and Lily had been the last to depart. And the Rising Stones then were as they are now. Quiet. Empty.
Lonesome.
A part of her wondered if she’d have been better off staying here, then and now. To have rejected Hydaelyn’s call and forged a path fully her own. To have taken charge of the Scions once more in the wake of her revival, or raised the flag of the Path back up from the supposed ashes of their order.
But she couldn’t. To see that the light of dawn would shine at last, Hydaelyn needed her sacrifice. Though every last Scion would no doubt heed her call, the disbanding of their order was well reasoned. And as for the Path of the Twelve? What need did this world—free from Gods and Primals, Ascians and Ancients—have of the Echo?
Perhaps it was not this star that needed those with the gift, but those gifted souls who needed the star. And now that her world had been changed so thoroughly, having been granted the peace she long sought to engender…
Was there no longer a place for her?
“... Not that I’m pining for you to stay with me, you understand,” Tataru said at last, breaking her out of the haze of her thoughts. “I have my sources, and I know that each and every one of you is doing well and keeping busy with your endeavors!”
With a nervous chuckle, Minfilia smiled faintly. Tataru was no mind reader, but the two had been friends for many years. Surely she understood the worries that burdened her mind. “Of that I have no doubt. Nevertheless, full glad am I to know for certain.”
“Meanwhile, I’m left with a surplus of free time—and the question of how to make the most of it!” As she spoke the words with an air of theatrics, Tataru looked at Minfilia and Lily. “What about you two? Any plans for the immediate future?”
“I was planning to take a few days to decompress,” answered Lily, just before taking a large bite from a half-soggy biscuit. As she swallowed and dunked the rest of the sugary treat into her tea again, she continued. “The duty laid upon my shoulders is fulfilled, as are my dreams and ambitions. Frankly, I’m spent.”
“Far be it for me to disagree, love, but are you certain that’s not the fatigue speaking?” Even as she asked the question, Minfilia knew the answer. And as Lily gave a low grumble and ate the rest of her biscuit, she shook her head and sighed. “Suit yourself. As for me, I’d hoped to step back into the life I’d left behind. But thus far it feels as if I’m trying to squeeze into a hole long filled. My friends and family are all happy to have me back, of course. But they’ve... moved on, and so must I.”
By the time she’d finished, Tataru had slipped out from her chair and sidled up beside her. Reaching up, she grabbed Minfilia’s arm to grab her attention. “Hey now. That’s not the sort of thing I’d ever thought to hear from you. I wish I could tell you that just sticking around a while longer would clear those feelings up, but…” As she trailed off, Tataru raised a hand to her chin. “... You said you went by the name ‘Ascilia’ in Dalmasca. Is that right?”
“Indeed I did,” Minfilia replied, reflecting on her and Lily’s months together in the Far East. “Why do you ask?”
“If you’re open to suggestions,” Tataru began, returning to her seat and flashing a thoughtful smirk, “then I might have one for you.”
Turning in her seat to face her, Minfilia leaned forward. “Oh? I’m all ears—what did you have in mind?”
“Between the Antecedent and the Oracle of Light, you’ve fought bravely and selflessly, helping those in need and doing your best to save our star from unimaginable threats.” Pausing for a moment, Tataru motioned over to Lily. “Though you’re no ‘Champion of Eorzea’, not a soul alive would gainsay you’ve earned your reputation as a hero to this realm and others. But why not put such things aside for a while?”
No doubt she’d had this speech prepared ahead of time, Minfilia mused. It was obviously for Lily’s sake. All the same it warmed her heart to hear it said to her. “I’m afraid that’s easier said than done. All of Eorzea knows the Antecedent, Minfilia Warde.”
“Then stop being Minfilia Warde,” Tataru replied, grinning ear to ear. “Acquit yourself as a simple adventurer—with a makeover to boot—and travel the world in search of wonder!”
It wasn’t a half bad idea. Being a complete stranger on the Dalmascan battlegrounds had been a refreshing experience, all things considered. Were she to truly dust off her old name and change her looks, it very well could help her find new footing in this new world so much very like the one she’d left behind that day.
With a nod full of confidence, Minfilia agreed. “I’ll do it. But where to start this brand new adventure of mine…?”
It was an obvious lead in for another suggestion, and Tataru took it immediately. “Ahhh, with so many exciting places to choose from, it’s hard to narrow it down… but I believe I have the perfect destination in mind.”
“Oh?” asked Minfilia. “Where would that be?”
“Thavnair—that’s where you should go next! Just touring the streets of Radz-at-Han would be an adventure unto itself. Lily made a living there for most of her life too, or so I’m told, so she can back me up on that.” Tataru paused for a moment to take a sip of her tea, then continued on with her pitch. “Then there’s the Bounty itself. The Empire’s presence in the region was always a deterrent to exploration, so if you’ve a mind to do some sailing, now’s your chance. Just think of all the new experiences you could have!”
“You’ve certainly given this quite a lot of thought, hm hm!” Though she was a tad amused at how well prepared Tataru was to sell the idea, in truth Minfilia was quite excited by the thought herself. “I’ve not been to Thavnair before, so traveling by aetheryte is out of the question. I don’t suppose you’d mind if I borrow the Bonanza?”
“By all means! That’s what I built it for, after all.” Once more Tataru glanced Lily’s way, and this time Minfilia followed her gaze. She was staring into her cup of tea, half-drained and full of crumbs. “She seems rather out of it, don’t you think? A vision from her Echo, perhaps?”
“I’m going with her,” Lily suddenly declared, snapping to attention. “Sorry. I just—when do you plan on leaving? May I join you?”
“You needn’t have to ask, love,” Minfilia answered, kissing Lily on the cheek. “But ‘when’ is a good question. Tomorrow morning at the earliest, unless you have any other business to attend to.”
“As it just so happens,” Tataru interjected, “I’ve been working on a gift for Lily. I should have it done tonight, mind you. But if it takes longer than expected to put the finishing touches to it, then would you mind it terribly if you waited?”
“Not at all,” said Minfilia.
“It’s clothes, isn’t it?” asked Lily.
For just a moment, Tataru feigned a look of surprise. “You must’ve read my mind—but yes. We can’t have you running about looking like a killer for hire, now can we? Trust me, the outfit I’ve planned for you will make you seem as friendly on the outside as you are within!”
“So she’ll still look like a killer for hire,” Minfilia joked. “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing it, at any rate.”
“Right now I’ve got it tucked away in your old office, if you’d like a sneak peek,” said Tataru. “And of course I won’t mind if you keep me company while I work on it. Though given how dreary Lily looks even after the tea…”
With a weary grumble, Lily pulled herself up from her chair and bowed her head. “Right. Thank you for the tea and snacks, Tataru.”
“No no, thank you for stopping in to say hello,” Tataru replied, bowing her head. “Now go on. Our little respite has plenty of spare beds—all of which you lovebirds have to yourselves, at least for tonight.”
As Lily departed for the aptly named Dawn’s Respite, Minfilia glanced over her shoulder at the doors to her old office. “It has been so terribly long since I last set foot within. Though I suppose that room is yours now, my friend.”
“I wouldn’t say that. If you ask me, I’m just borrowing it until the time comes for the Scions to band together again. Mind you, I hope it’s not for a long time. Your old chair is rather cozy, and I’m not wont to give it up so soon.” As she hopped out of her seat, Tataru offered a hand to Minfilia, smiling. “Come now, let’s go have a peek at my handiwork. You can tell me what you think of it, and whether or not Lily would like it.”
“That’s hardly necessary,” Minfilia began, even as she strode forth towards her old office doors. “Surely she would love an outfit made just for her.”
***
“I can’t believe you’re making me wear this,” Lily griped.
“I can’t believe you refused in the first place,” Ascilia fired back. “Tataru worked so hard to make it for you, and even dyed it your favorite color.”
“I look like an overgrown Lalafell,” Lily griped once more, peering over herself disdainfully. “And not that it matters, but my favorite color is red.”
That morning, she and Lily had awoken within half a bell of each other. While Ascilia adorned herself in the frilly pink armored dress she’d purchased for her days on the frontlines of Dalmasca, Lily had stuck with her traditional draped gown. It wouldn’t have been long before Tataru presented her new traveling attire—why wear something she couldn’t slip out of easily?
Now the two of them were standing before the airship Tataru dubbed ‘The Bonanza’, moored down by the edge of Silvertear Lake. Ascilia had let her hair down, braiding it loosely in a low ponytail. And Lily, despite her relentless complaining, had donned the friendly-looking adventurer’s garb Tataru had sewn together for her.
She’d made a single alteration to the outfit—a pair of armored fingerless gloves, taken from her old attire. But aside from that...
“... Well, mayhap it does resemble Lalafellin fashion a mite,” Ascilia relented. “But surely that’s not such a bad thing. You look rather dashing, love, and I must say…” Leaning up onto the tips of her toes as she paused, she planted a kiss on her beloved’s cheek. “I think it suits a hero like you.”
As a warm smile formed upon Lily’s face, she wrapped her arms around Ascilia and gave her a deep kiss. And though it seemed an eternity in her mind, that kiss was broken as swiftly as it began. Staring into her eyes, her beloved spoke.
“We should get going. It’ll be a few hours before we reach the landing in Radz-at-Han.” Pulling away, Lily climbed the steps up onto the Bonanza’s deck, then turned and offered her hand down to Ascilia. “If it makes you and Tataru happy, I suppose I’ll just have to get used to it.”
“The outfit,” Ascilia mused aloud, “or being called a ‘hero’?”
“Yes.”