Ascilia, Scion of Light

The afternoon sun shone brightly through a near cloudless sky over Old Sharlayan as Ascilia arrived, appearing in a flash of blue light by the city’s pristine aetheryte plaza. Though she was tasked with recruiting allies for today’s newfound adventure, as her gaze drifted over the harbor and the ocean beyond, her thoughts turned to the port town she’d departed from. Where that port had been nigh bereft of ships, many large vessels teeming with activity were moored down below.

Though Thavnair was well on the road to recovery these past few months, the nation would struggle for some time. And Sharlayan, having avoided both the worst of Garlemald’s incessant wars and the inevitability of the Final Days, was ripe to take full advantage of their needs. As were Ul’dah, Limsa Lominsa, and Hingashi in the Far East. No doubt Vrtra had his claws full ensuring trade with their distant neighbors remained equitable.

All the more reason to hope the ruins beneath the Bounty hold the windfall our little fellowship anticipates.

Pushing such thoughts aside, Ascilia took to the streets. It wasn’t long before she’d entered the halls of the Baldesion Annex, where she was greeted by a familiar face—Ojika Tsunjika, the Annex’s Administrator.

“Oh, look who it is!” he exclaimed, waving her in. “Welcome back, Minfilia! What might the students do for you?”

The Students of Baldesion. A collective of Sharlayan scholars who once learned and worked under the tutelage of the organization’s founder, Galuf Baldesion—adoptive father of her dear friend Krile. In life, Ascilia could only wonder what terrible calamity had befallen them when the Isle of Val disappeared one fateful evening.

And in death she learned the truth: The entire island had been swept into the aetherial sea, for the twin purposes of eliminating a single Ascian and preventing a primal with power over creation itself from falling into their hands. An act of tremendous sacrifice, rendered futile when the primal ripped itself and the isle free…

To say nothing of the power of creation itself. I suppose none shall ever know the full truth of why the Ascians sought Eureka…

“Hello Ojika,” she replied, shuffling her thoughts behind her well-worn smile. “I was looking to speak with Krile, in fact.”

“Mistress Krile is in the main hall with G’raha,” Ojika replied, motioning to the door behind himself. “They’ve been holed up in there for days. By all means, go and give them an excuse to take a break!”

With a polite bow of her head, Ascilia quickly made her way into the main hall. There she found G’raha and Krile standing over a familiar wooden counter, discussing some matter between themselves. But once she drew closer, attempting to listen in, G’raha glanced over his shoulder towards her.

“Ah, Ojika, my good man,” he began, slowly turning to face her. “Would you be so… kind… as to…”

As he trailed off Ascilia couldn’t help but snicker, drawing the attention of Krile, who turned to greet her. “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” her Lalafelin friend declared, waving at her. “‘Tis good to see you again, Minfilia.”

“And you as well, my dear Krile,” she replied, waving back. “Pray forgive my interruption—what is it you’re working on, though?”

“Raha and I have been compiling old records of the Students’ activities,” Krile began, motioning to the stacks of tomes and parchment behind them. “We were able to locate several accounts in the archives of Noumenon, and added them to the collection we recovered from the Isle of Val.”

“We’ve been taking it slow and steady,” G’raha added, “but judging by our progress thus far, sorting this pile will keep us occupied for days to come.” Pausing for a moment, he tilted his head to the side, as if expecting to spy someone hiding in her shadow, then continued. “... But what brings you to the annex, my friend? Surely you haven’t come all this way just to watch us shuffle dusty papers around?”

“‘Tis a tale and a half, I assure you,” said Ascilia, chuckling. Though she was on the clock, it would no doubt take a while for Estinien and Matsya to finish their preparations. Even so, there was little need to explain everything right away. “To keep things short: I’m looking to recruit allies and trusted friends for an expedition. We’re to explore the Bounty in search of ruins containing the treasure vault of Alzadaal III.”

Raising a hand, G’raha rubbed at his chin. “The treasure vault of Alzadaal III…”

“Indeed. I’ve little need for whatever that treasure might be, mind you. But I…”

Ascilia cut her own words short, glancing back at the entrance to the main hall for a moment. Krile was one of her closest friends, and a good person besides. Were she to mention the true reason behind this altruistic adventure—her desire to make a new life for herself—nothing would stop her friend from joining her.

She lost you once already, after all. The Students of Baldesion are naught but memories, but you…

Biting down gently but firmly on her lip, Ascilia returned her attention to Krile. “... But I was hoping to invite you along, Krile. If you’re free.”

“I would dearly love to accompany you, but I’m afraid I’m committed to another task.” After glancing at the door, as if in anticipation of another person barging in on them, Krile shook her head. “On the subject of which, I was rather hoping to ask for Lily’s assistance with that. She is with you, isn’t she?”

“Lily is awaiting my return in Thavnair along with Estinien, sorry,” Ascilia replied, shaking her head. Though her attention was focused squarely on Krile, from the corner of her eye she spied G’raha fists clenching and his tail beginning to curl. “... If… there’s no need to be picky with who you ask, might I help you with whatever this task might be?”

“Certainly, certainly. Only, it’s not so urgent that it can’t wait until you’ve returned…” As she looked at G’raha, his face scrunching as if he were trying not to shout, Krile flashed a soft smile. “You should go, Raha. I’ll stay and mind the shop, as it were.”

At the sound of his name, G’raha snapped to attention. “Are you sure?” he asked, his bright red eyes all but gleaming. “I’d hate to leave you shorthanded…”

“I’m sure,” she reassured him. “Just try to be back before too many moons have passed.”

“Well! I guess we’re off on another adventure already!” G’raha exclaimed, completely failing to hide his excitement. As he caught a half-bemused, half-incredulous look from Ascilia, however, he quickly amended his words. “I mean, I’m off on another adventure already. Say, have you asked anyone else to come along? The more the merrier!”

“... Not yet, I’m afraid,” she replied, ignoring the misstep. “With the four of us, we should be fine, but if you’ve any recommendations…”

“Might I suggest we invite Y’shtola?” At the sound of her name, the practiced smile on Ascilia’s face gave way to a genuine one. As if he’d caught the detail, G’raha continued on. “Ever since the Scions disbanded, she’s spent most of her time cloistered within the Great Gubal Library, hoping to piece together a method to traverse the rift.”

The vast, turbulent space between the Source and its Reflections—the “rift between worlds”. There were a few different ways this could already be achieved, and Ascilia herself was no stranger to them. But unless her dear friend was an Ascian, such methods would prove immediately and irrevocably fatal.

“‘Tis no mean undertaking Shtola has occupied herself with. Small wonder my efforts to contact her months ago were met with silence.” Puzzling out his words, Ascilia raised an eyebrow. “Has she perchance returned to Sharlayan? If not, we may need to reach her via linkpearl."

“She arrived in Sharlayan the other day—we spoke briefly before she began her search of Noumenon. Alzadaal’s Legacy may or may not hold any interest for her, but I believe she’d welcome the chance to clear her mind, if nothing else.”

“Then it’s settled. Let us head to the archives at once.” Turning to Krile, Ascilia bowed her head. “It was nice to see you again, Krile. I’ll keep that business you mentioned in mind—mayhap we can discuss it over tea in the near future?”

“Of course, of course.” With that Krile waved the pair off. But before Ascilia could so much as set a foot out of the main hall, she suddenly called out to her. “Wait! Before you go—I have another potential member to volunteer, if you’ve room to spare. Urianger.”

“Urianger?” asked Ascilia, furrowing her brow in surprise. “I thought he and Thancred had departed for Ilsabard months ago.”

“They did. Only recently did they return—about the same time as Y’shtola. And with them came a request to the Students for materials, treatises on the architecture of treasure vaults and the like.” As Ascilia exchanged a glance with G’raha, Krile continued on. “From what I gathered, the Loporrits are looking to make ‘improvements’ to their own creation, and wish to learn more about how we build things down here.”

“The… Loporrits?” Ascilia tilted her head to the side. “I’ve not seen one in person. Don’t they live on the moon?”

“That would be the case. Though with the Ragnarok at their disposal, a round trip to the moon isn’t quite so inconvenient.” Then, clearing her throat, Krile motioned to the door. “Safe travels, you two! And Minfilia, do keep in mind that other matter I mentioned.”

***

The pair swiftly departed from the Baldesion Annex, making their way through the wooded outskirts of the city until they reached Noumenon, perhaps the second largest library modern man had built. A thousand, thousand tomes were held within its halls—if aught had been committed to ink and paper, then it was all but certain one could find it here.

Ascilia entered the building, following after G’raha as they scoured the floor for Y’shtola. Though there were many brightly glowing chandeliers hanging from the ceiling above, the whole of Noumenon was rather dimly lit. Surely, she mused, trying to read in a place like this would strain the eyes.

“Are you certain she’s here?” she asked, peering over a balcony to scan the floor below. “Surely she would have an easier time reading in daylight.”

“What difference would—” G’raha began, only to cut himself short. “Ah, there she is, over by that pile of tomes.”

Turning aside, Ascilia’s gaze followed from G’raha’s finger to the aforementioned pile. What she found was a white-haired Miqo’te wearing a long black dress. From this distance they appeared to be sitting down, surrounded by a veritable mountain of books, beside a towering bookshelf at the back end of the room. Wasting no time, she briskly closed the distance, but as she drew closer, Ascilia felt the need to stifle her giggling.

Y’shtola was laying her head upon one of the smaller stacks, silently sleeping in public.

Catching up to her, G’raha loomed over the scene of the sleeping sorceress. “I’ve never known Y’shtola to doze off in the middle of research before…”

“You have not known her for as long as I,” Ascilia replied. Kneeling down beside Y’shtola, Ascilia took a moment to appreciate the sight before her.

She had always known the Miqo’te sorceress to affect a cool and collected persona while in the presence of others. One could almost believe her to always be like that—as if she were unchanging stone hewn from the fabric of existence. And even for close friends, catching Y’shtola with her guard down was a rare occurrence. If she were truly so exhausted, perhaps it would be better to let her rest and carry on without her. But they were on the clock, and so instead she leaned forward and whispered gently into her furry white ear.

“Shtola… time to wake up, Shtola. This is no time to be sleeping, hm hm.”

Y’shtola’s ears flicked up and down, and her eyes—so unusually white—fluttered open. With a quiet yawn she stretched out her arms, then began to mutter to herself. “Mmm… I close my eyes for one moment…”

She turned to face Ascilia, then threw herself back in clear shock and surprise, hard enough to slam into the tower of tomes behind her. The whole tower shook from the impact, and the book highest on the stack tumbled down, landing with a thud upon the poor woman’s head before sliding off.

All at once, Ascilia’s bemusement turned to concern. “Are you alright, Shtola? Here, let me see your head—”

But as she reached forward, Y’shtola slipped away, surging to her feet and producing a crooked wooden staff. After a terse standoff between the three of them, however, she lowered her guard and furrowed her brow. “What is the meaning of this? Answer me, G’raha.”

Glancing between Ascilia and Y’shtola, G’raha seemed at a loss for words. “... I had thought someone else would have told you.”

Ascilia frowned, standing up as she shook her head. With the Scions disbanded and Y’shtola keeping to herself for months, it was hardly a surprise nobody had told her she was alive. But this reaction went far beyond mere surprise. Something was wrong, either with Y’shtola herself or…

“... Lest I jump to conclusions, I would have the truth from the source,” said Y’shtola at last, narrowing her eyes at Ascilia. “The light of your soul burns brightly, its hues a brilliant gold. But how does a woman claimed by the sea walk once more among the living?”

You say you’ll hear me out, yet it seems you’ve already made up your mind. What you expect to hear is something I pray I’ll never do again...

With a heavy sigh, Ascilia brushed the thought aside. Her quick wit and judgmental attitude aside, Y’shtola was still her friend. There was nothing to be gained by keeping her at arm’s length. “‘Twas by Hydaelyn’s will that I was given a second chance. By way of an apology, she sacrificed a fragment of the Mothercrystal to fashion a new vessel for my soul to inhabit. As for the circumstances of my revival…”

She continued on, explaining in detail her last moments within the aetherial sea. How she had sent her own body to the surface as bait to grab Lily’s attention, their efforts to restore Venat’s soul that she might have her well-earned rest, and her subsequent return to life once they had succeeded.

“... And since reuniting my body and soul, I’ve spent the last four months readjusting, then following Lily to the distant land of Dalmasca,” she concluded at last, holding a hand to her heart. “But I did not return merely to help my beloved fulfill her dreams. I am here to live my life, and on my own terms.”

As she’d spoken, Ascilia couldn’t help but note the softening of Y’shtola’s expression. It seemed her story, true in every detail, had been believed after all. “... Thank you for being so candid, Minfilia. Though I… no, I’ll not take this gift for granted. It’s good to know you’re here with us once more. But if you don’t mind me asking—why are you here, exactly?”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Ascilia allowed herself to smile. “I have a proposition for you—one that may yield progress towards your research, though I can’t promise with certainty that it will.”

“... So you know what I aim to accomplish,” Y’shtola replied, looking off into the distance. “I must have been studying for two… three days straight before exhaustion finally claimed me. Searching for any kind of hint or partial mention of the power to travel from the Source to one of its reflections.”

“There is the method our age-old enemies employed,” said Ascilia, fielding the option only for the sake of dismissing it. “Though such means are not without sacrifice. And without the Echo, I fear you wouldn’t survive such a journey.”

“Indeed. If I am to succeed, I must find a better way…” Y’shtola lowered her head and closed her eyes. “A means to travel between worlds exists, and you can be sure I will find a way to employ it…” Then, with a soft sigh, she opened them again. “... So I promised Runar, but ‘twould seem I’ve set myself a nigh-impossible task.”

“You needn’t be so hard on yourself,” G’raha interjected. “The leap I made with the Crystal Tower was not achieved in an afternoon—it was the culmination of a collective effort spanning generations.”

At this, Y’shtola perked her head up. “Oh, you think me discouraged? I assure you, ‘tis quite the opposite.” As she turned to face them, shifting her posture ever so subtly, a sense of bravado returned to her voice. “A daunting challenge and the time to sink my teeth into it? I feel like a fresh-faced student again.”

“Now there’s the Shtola I know and love,” Ascilia giggled.

“A scholar in her element,” G’raha followed up.

“Indeed,” said Y’shtola, a hint of pride in her voice. “Now, you mentioned a proposition that might benefit my research…”

“I wish to embark for a peculiar ruin beneath the waves of the Bounty in search of Alzadaal’s legacy,” Ascilia began to explain. “Rumors abound regarding what that legacy might be. Some say it’s a wealth of gold and jewels from a bygone era. Others believe that Alzadaal III once traveled to another world, and the means by which he did yet lay within.”

Y’shtola’s eyes widened in surprise, and she raised a hand to her chin, gently rapping it against her cheek. “Alzadaal is no minor figure in Hannish history, and much is known about his family. But this is the first I’ve heard of a descendant surviving a trip to another world.”

“If those tales are true, there may be clues left behind as to how it was accomplished,” G’raha offered. “What do you say?”

“An invitation to delve into one of the world’s lingering mysteries?” Y’shtola smirked. “As if I could refuse.”

“Wonderful!” Ascilia beamed, clapping her hands in delight. “I could thank you a thousand times and it would not be enough. This expedition is certainly shaping up to be a better one than I dared to imagine.”

“That remains to be seen,” said Y’shtola, returning her smile with one of her own. “And whence do we embark upon this expedition?”

“Akyaali, by ship,” Ascilia told her. “It’s a small fishing village on the southern coast of Thavnair.”

“But before that,” G’raha reminded her, “we ought to extend an invitation to Urianger as well. He was in Thaumazein, last we heard.”

“Then by all means,” Y’shtola began, “let us recruit him and be on our way.”

***

It was half a bell later when the trio arrived at the bottom of the Central Circuit, staring down the staircase leading within Thaumazein. Ascilia had traveled the path once before, albeit as a passenger within the body of her beloved. Even so, she was rather thankful to have friends to guide her down to this place.

Quickly they departed down the stairs, G’raha swinging open the double doors barring their way, revealing a truly impressive sight: the majestic white starship known as the Ragnarok. It was with this vessel that the Scions of the Seventh Dawn traveled to the very edge of the universe and back. And it was this same vessel, reconstructed twelve thousand years ago, that empowered a people forgotten by time to fight against fate’s cold embrace.

If Venat and her kin can grasp a brighter future for themselves, then so can I.

Standing before the towering starship was Urianger, and as they approached him, he turned to wave them over. “Ahh, our illustrious Antecedent. Thine garb is an uncommon sight—hast thou found employment within the long arm of the Forum?”

“The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind,” Ascilia replied, chuckling as she drew closer. “And pray refrain from calling me the Antecedent—that hour of my life is done. Now I’m just a simple adventurer, nothing more.”

“I shalt endeavor to remember,” said Urianger, bowing his head. “But if not stately duty, then what bringeth thee hither to Sharlayan, my lady?”

“Estinien, Lily, and I mean to search for ruins within the Bounty, and thought an extra set of hands or two would be of use,” she explained, motioning to Y’shtola and G’raha. “I was hoping to count you among our number, my friend.”

“I’m rather surprised to see you here,” said Y’shtola, pushing her way into the conversation. “You’ve been keeping busy, I trust?”

“True to our plan, Thancred and I embarked upon a pilgrimage of sorts, with an eye for gauging the state of those lands through which we passed.” Raising a hand to his chin, as if to gather his thoughts, Urianger continued. “... Our travelers were interrupted, however, by a request for aid from our befurred lunar allies.”

“The Loporrits?” Ascilia asked, mimicking her dear friend’s countenance with a bemused smirk. “Would they happen to be here right now?”

“Some few of their number, yes,” replied Urianger with a smile. “If thine wish is to behold one, prithee board the starship yonder.”

“Aren’t we in a bit of a hurry?” asked G’raha, glancing back towards the Ragnarok. “Surely Lily and Estinien are waiting for us.”

“It’s not as if they’re in any hurry to leave Etheirys,” Y’shtola added wryly. “She can always play with the Loporrits once we’re done.”

With a roll of her eyes and a heavy and exaggerated sigh, Ascilia waved them both off. “Oh, very well, I suppose I shall have to settle for petting Lily’s ears for now.” Then, gazing back up at Urianger, she returned to the matter at hand. “Krile informed us of your request for materials—something about the way we build things on our world, yes?”

“Ah, then you have learned of my predicament,” Urianger replied. Motioning to the Ragnarok, he carried on his explanation from there. “The Loporrits have become aware of hidden vaults—I know not whence—and now stand convinced that adventurers delight in treasure hunts. Thus with their newly built ‘wonderland of riches and mystery’ do they hope to entice all manner of daring delvers to the moon.” Then, with a soft sigh of his own, Urianger shook his head. “So earnest and innocent was their desire to bring joy to the world that I found myself powerless to refuse them my cooperation…”

Ascilia raised an eyebrow. At this explanation, she couldn’t help but offer her own perspective. “So they intend to build a tourist attraction… on the moon… that preys upon man’s insatiable greed? Are you certain they’re as ‘earnest and innocent’ as you proclaim?”

“Clearly four months was too long to be around Lily,” Y’shtola chided. “Her relentless pessimism seems to have rubbed off on you.”

“I know she can be a touch cynical at times, but that’s hardly fair to her,” Ascilia objected, crossing her arms. “And as I told G’raha and Krile, I’ve never met one of these Loporrits. For all I know they’ve drifted well and truly away from Venat’s intentions.”

“For better or worse, that doesn’t seem to be the case,” G’raha chimed in, as if sensing the growing tension between the two. “Though if an expert on Loporrits exists, it would surely be Urianger. I would trust his judgment on matters pertaining to our furry little guests.”

“Nay, my lady’s concern is understandable,” Urianger interjected, rubbing his temple. “Rest assured however that the Loporrits hath abandoned all thoughts of duplicity, well-intentioned or otherwise, since our fated first encounter.” Then, as his gaze met Ascilia’s, a thought seemed to come to him. “Returning to the matter at hand, might I surmise that thine expedition unto the Bounty is pertinent to my request?”

“Oh, I dearly hope so,” said Ascilia, raising a hand to her heart. “Alzadaal’s legacy is shrouded in myth, after all—we may find that no such treasure exists. Or it may turn out to have been ransacked long ago.”

“We can not know for certain unless we witness it for ourselves,” Urianger concluded, giving her a warm smile. “Regardless, I should be honored to accept thine invitation. How long hath it been, I wonder, when last our actions were not impelled by fate or desperation?”

“Aye,” Y’shtola agreed. “Though I cherish the Scions’ accomplishments, ‘tis pleasant to not have the weight of the world upon our shoulders for a change.”

That’s all my life has been since the day I turned seventeen. Over a hundred years of struggle with no end in sight. That it did end, that I am free to live a life all my own, is nothing short of a miracle. It almost feels too good to be true.

No, itistoo good to be true…

From somewhere behind her, a familiar voice snapped Ascilia back into reality. “What, no time to spare for a grizzled old bard?”

And as she turned upon her heel to greet the man who would be her brother, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Grizzled old bard? Really? Correct me if I’m wrong, dearest Thancred, but are you even a single one of those things?”

Seemingly taken aback, Thancred began to pout. “I... suppose thirty-five isn’t that old, come to think of it. Forty if you count my years on the First.”

“If we’re counting those,” Ascilia smirked as she rested her hands upon her hips, “Then wouldn’t that make me a hundred and thirty? Which would make you—”

“Minfilia—”

Undeterred by his protest, Ascilia strode forward, reaching up to stroke her brother’s chin. “Now don’t get me wrong, I adore that you’ve been taking such good care of yourself since my successor entered your life. But if you want to call yourself ‘grizzled’, baby brother, then you at least ought to grow a beard, don’t you think?”

Like a cornered mouse, Thancred’s eyes flicked this way and that, as if looking for the nearest escape route. “B-baby brother…?”

“And as for Bard, well…” Pulling her hand back, Ascilia gave a wry grin as she pressed her fingers to her forehead, imitating the headaches her beloved would get shortly before her Echo activated. “... I’m certain we could ask the waitress at The Last Stand what she thinks of that tongue of yours…”

“What are you, h-how would you even, I-I mean,” Thancred sputtered, before rubbing the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh. “Please don’t use the Echo to delve into my memories, thank you very much.”

“I didn’t,” Ascilia admitted. “I was only teasing you.”

“Didst thou find thy mentor before seducing this waitress, or after?” asked Urianger, looking somewhat bemused.

“I only asked her for help in reserving a table for dinner tonight,” Thancred insisted, grimacing. “And as for my former mentor, I was hoping to catch up with them while you were parlaying with the Loporrits, but it seems our paths were not to cross. Now, was there something you needed from me, or am I only here to be everyone’s training dummy?”

“Perish the thought,” said Ascilia, snickering as she motioned to her collection of friends. “I’ve been gathering allies for an expedition, searching for ruins beneath the waters of the Bounty. Estinien and Lily are no doubt awaiting our return.”

“Waters beneath the Bounty, you say?” Glancing over the group, Thancred scratched his chin. “I see you’ve already stolen away my traveling partner with the promise of unexplored ruins and scholarly glory.”

“Nay, ‘tis not for mine own indulgence,” Urianger began, “but rather the fulfillment of my commitment to the Loporrits.”

“Ah, of course…” Thancred then fell silent, as if ruminating over the possibility of joining them. Then, with a shake of his head, he continued. “And if you have Estinien and Lily rounding out your group, you likely have all the members you need.”

“Feeling left out?” Y’shtola asked somewhat cheekily. “I could put in a good word for you, if you like.”

“And here I thought we were done with this,” Thancred sighed, crossing his arms as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “We may have been ‘released’ from our obligations, but I’ll never be free of that merciless wit of yours, will I?” Then, returning his attention to the group, he shrugged his shoulders. “In all seriousness, ‘tis best I sit this one out. Six former Scions consorting with one another is already pushing it—even more might be seen as a cause for concern in certain quarters.”

“Well that is a shame,” said Ascilia. “But I suppose you’re right. What will you be doing in the meantime?”

“Nothing today. Tomorrow, I’ll return to my usual reconnaissance, and scout out the situation in the Far East. Feel free to share if you come across any interesting revelations.” Then, with a smile, Thancred reached his hand up, only to stop and let out a silent gasp. His eyes darted down to his hand, then back to Ascilia, before he retracted it and turned away. “... Till we meet again, Minfilia.”

I am no longer the girl you watched over all those years ago. Nor am I the child who looked to you for guidance and a father’s love. Even so…

“Hold it,” she commanded, gently but firmly.

Thancred stopped in his tracks, turning to face Ascilia once more. Seizing the opportunity she dove forward into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his back, holding them there until he at last returned the gesture.

“It was good to see you again, dearest Thancred. Please, stay safe.”

“I will,” he promised. “Have fun, sister.”

As Thancred departed from Thaumazein moments later, Ascilia watching him go, she couldn’t help but shed a tear.

That’s right. No matter how far apart we’ve drifted, no matter how many chapters in our lives close, we’ll still have each other. And it will take more than the end of the world to tear our family apart.

“Shall we also hasten our departure?” asked Urianger, his voice pulling Ascilia out from her thoughts. “Ser Estinien and Lily will wonder what hath become of us.”

“Of course, of course,” Ascilia sighed, wiping the tear from her cheek. Turning around, she gave her most well-worn smile. “But ere we depart, I would ask a teensy favor of everyone present. It’s nothing too serious, but it would mean the world to me if you accepted…”

***

It was not long after that Ascilia returned by aetheryte to Yedlihmad, the southernmost port of Thavnair. Making her way back to Akyaali across the sandy shoreline, her newfound allies following closely behind, they quickly arrived at the village proper. There they were greeted by Matsya and Estinien, and just behind them, moored close to shore, was a large and colorfully ornate sailboat.

“So these are your friends in Sharlayan,” Estinien began, sizing up their party. “No less than three of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, two of whom I’d swear had gone off the grid. Just who are you, exactly?”

“My lady Ascilia hath been a longtime ally to the Scions,” answered Urianger on her behalf, motioning to her as he spoke.

“One of our contacts in league with the Ala Mhigan Resistance in fact,” Y’shtola added. “She played an integral role in helping us discern the XIVth Legion’s movements before and after the Seventh Umbral Calamity, though she was not present when Gyr Abania was finally liberated from the Garlean Empire.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know her as well as the others,” admitted G’raha. “But any friend of Lily and Krile is a friend of mine.”

As always, the best lies are ones strung together with signs of the truth, Ascilia mused. Thank you, my friends.

“... Is that so? Very well then.” Glancing over to the boat, Estinien shook his head. “I hope Matsya’s boat is sturdy enough to carry us all…”

Stepping forward, Ascilia gave Matsya a friendly smile. “What he means is, we are grateful for the use of one of your precious fishing vessels.”

“We are more than glad for the chance to provide it,” Matsya explained. “I ask only that you take care to steer clear of the reefs in the shallows there.”

“Aye, we will keep an eye out,” said Estinien.

“Hold on,” Ascilia protested. “Won’t we need someone to helm the boat for us? And for that matter, where’s Lily?”

It was only then, at the mention of her name, that Lily appeared, rising into view from the ship’s deck. With an outstretched arm and an obviously fake smile, she waved at the party to grab their attention. “Don’t you worry about that!” she shouted. “I’ll have us there and back before sundown, I promise!”

“You’re going to… what?!” Ascilia shook her head. She knew the little trick she’d pulled would help Lily with her fear of the sea, but this… this was simply too much. “Have you ever even sailed a boat before, Lily?”

“The size and medium aside, my fishing boat is not so different from a manacutter,” Matsya answered in Lily’s place. “... At least, that’s what Lily said before I helped show her the ropes. She’s something of a natural, though—you really are in good hands!”

“You heard the man,” Lily shouted, waving for the party to join her. “All aboard, everyone!”