Ascilia, Scion of Light

On the rare occasions that she had needed to look into matters concerning the Dravanian Horde, Ascilia would wonder just what a greatwyrm would look like. She had seen depictions of lesser dragons and sketches of Nidhogg in tomes, of course, and the sight of Midgardsormr over Silvertear Lake was one she would never forget. But never before had she seen a greatwyrm in person.

Standing beside Estinien and her beloved Galbana Lily in Meghaduta’s audience chamber, amidst a gathering crowd of clerks and guardsmen of the Radiant Host, she finally had the opportunity to fill in that missing gap of knowledge. Before them stood the Auri vessel called Varshahn, and behind him rested the living form of Vrtra himself.

She had expected him to be taller.

“I thank you for your attendance,” the true voice of Vrtra echoed within her mind. A feat not unlike the power of the Echo, Ascilia mused. It seemed that this speech was not directed merely at her, however, but to all currently present. “The riches the Radiant Host has retrieved were hoarded in Alzadaal’s name—a fortune I set aside for a future day of need. And lo, that day hath come. May it aid our wounded city in reclaiming its vibrancy and vigor!”

Ascilia hardly needed to look about to read the room—both the clerks and guardsmen filled with pride at the greatwyrm’s proclamation. Far from the fear and confusion one might expect from learning that the true ruler of their nation was a nigh immortal dragon, it seemed that the people of Thavnair felt nothing but love and admiration for him.

The only ones not entirely smitten with him were Estinien and Lily, both utterly stone faced save for faint, thin smiles. She did not know the Azure Dragoon well enough to say what might be going on within his mind, but she recognized Lily’s well enough to guess.

Something is troubling her, but she has chosen to bite her tongue. I’ll have to ask her about it in private later.

“In better times, I would leave such a task to our capable Ahewann, gods bless him with a swift recovery.” As his voice reverberated within the minds of all present, Vrtra tilted his head ever so slightly downward—an oddly humanizing gesture, or so Ascilia thought. Having spent the whole of Thavnair’s history behind the nation’s throne, she could hardly blame him for finding the task itself too enormous to bear alone. “Finding myself bereft of his counsel in the here and now, I will assume the responsibilities of mine office directly. Firstly, the treasure shall be sold for more convenient currency, thence invested into the trading port of Yedlihmad. Our merchants must have their operations restored, their ships rebuilt. Commerce must flow once more!”

There was a moment of silence throughout the chamber. Though she couldn’t gauge the expressions of everyone around her, Ascilia could feel the questions on the gathered men and women’s minds.

Yes, of course, but why Yedlihmad? Why not Radz-at-Han?

It was only natural, she knew. Even in a nation as small as the island of Thavnair, the distance between one community and the next was more than enough to put one’s neighbors out of mind. It was only once their own needs were fulfilled that most could afford to look beyond them.

But if such thinking were behind the decisions made today, Thavnair’s stagnation would be inevitable.

“None were spared the tragedy of the Final Days,” Vrtra began, as if to clarify his intentions. “Of this I am well aware. But an absence was created by the loss of Khalzahl’s consortium, and by filling it, we provide new means for our fishermen, our artisans, and others to bring their wares to distant markets.”

As the guardsmen of the Radiant Host saluted their Satrap, Ascilia turned aside, attempting to get a read for her companions’ own feelings. In doing so, she caught a glance between Lily and Estinien, and a glimmer of concern hidden beneath her beloved’s stony expression.

“And what of the children who were left without family to care for them?” Estinien asked, returning his attention to Vrtra.

“That is a concern which weigheth heavily upon my mind,” Vrtra replied, continuing to speak to all present. “A simple gift of coin will soon be exhausted, leaving these young souls adrift on the fringes of our society. Nay, a proper solution is needed, one which doth guarantee their welfare for years to come.”

As Vrtra spoke, the stony expression on Lily’s face softened, her lips curling ever so slightly into a smile. As if taking notice of her change in demeanor, the greatwyrm focused his attention on her next.

“Thou hast surely seen how other nations rise to meet this challenge, Heroine of Thavnair,” Vrtra declared. “What dost thou deem the wisest course?”

“... I don’t know about the wisest course,” Lily began, lowering her head in apparent thought. “But in recent years, Ishgard was able to begin the reconstruction of the Firmament, one of their wartorn districts. There is an orphanage there—Rolanberry Field, it’s called.” As she spoke the words, Ascilia couldn’t help but notice a hint of pride in her voice. “‘Twas a communal effort, the restoration project. And the orphanage was no exception.”

“Of course… The revival of trade can contribute to the building of a new institution.” Returning his attention to the rest of those in attendance, Vrtra proceeded to make a second proclamation. “Let us put this idea into practice. A contract shall be written, requiring all who receive of Alzadaal’s treasure to commit a portion of their future earnings towards the running of an orphanage.” As he finished, the greatwyrm looked aside, his voice falling to a whisper. “Now, such an influential policy is deserving of a worthy name…”

Feeling emboldened, Ascilia decided to take this opportunity to make her own contribution. It was a small thing, in truth, no more than an idea. And if Vrtra did not care for it, she would take no offense at it being discarded. But she had no interest in continuing to remain a bystander in this meeting.

“Might I make a suggestion?” she asked, taking a step forward. “Perhaps something with ‘Khalzahl’ would be appropriate.”

“Ah, a fitting candidate… Khalzahl should be remembered not as the blasphemy which terrorized Thavnair, but as a hardworking and generous man who brought much wealth to our shores.” After regarding her with a nod, Vrtra returned his attention to the rest of the audience. “Do any among you object to this proposition? Many here lost loved ones to the beasts…”

The possibility that her suggestion was in poor taste had not escaped her, but Ascilia doubted any would raise an objection. And though someone did speak up—the Auri captain of the Radiant Host—his words only served to reinforce that belief.

“In that time of strife, any one of us could have broken,” the Auri man began, addressing all present as much as Vrtra himself. “Any one of us may have been taken by despair. When I think of Khalzahl, I feel no hatred… only a stinging regret that we could not save him as well.” Then, turning to look at his subordinates, the man raised his voice near to a shout. “Isn’t that right, men!?”

The rest of the guardsmen assembled gave their resounding agreement. And though the clerks kept their silence, judging from their expressions Ascilia could only assume they approved as well. The matter was all but settled—it needed only be approved by Vrtra himself.

“This bodes well for that boy,” Estinien remarked to the both of them. “‘Mehrahd’, was it? Perhaps he can cut ties with that shady peddler.”

“We can only hope,” Lily responded with a nod.

“Then let it be done. Henceforth, this initiative shall be known as the ‘Khalzahl Foundation’!” Having finalized the decision, Vrtra turned towards the guardsmen of the Radiant Host. “Nahbdeen, thou art to assemble a patrol, and ensure that no child in this city liveth in squalor!” As the guards and their captain—Nahbdeen, Ascilia noted—bowed their heads and began to depart, Vrtra turned next to his clerks. “Clerks! See to the management of our funds and make haste! Our citizens must not suffer a day more than is necessary!”

Watching as the clerks departed, Ascilia inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Everything had gone about as well as could be expected. Turning to Estinien and her beloved Lily, she gave them both a warm smile.

“I’d say this has all been a worthwhile endeavor,” she told them, clasping her hands together. “Since Lily and I skipped lunch today, why don’t we celebrate our successful adventure with dinner together? My treat.”

“I prefer to eat alone,” said Estinien. “But I’ll not say no to a free meal.”

“Will you be inviting Y’shtola?” Lily asked, raising a hand to her chin. “For that matter, where is she?”

“Thy friend was last seen returning to Alzadaal’s vault,” came the voice of Vrtra within their minds. “She wished to examine the alchemical furnace within which the planar fissure was sealed. Regrettably, I can not say for certain whether she hath finished or not.”

“I suppose she must still be busy then,” Ascilia concluded. “No doubt she’ll make her return when she’s feeling hungry—or simply return to Sharlayan without so much as a warning. No linkpearl and all.” Then, as she headed towards the audience chamber’s exit, she paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Ah, Lily! I’m afraid I still don’t quite know my way around the city—are there any restaurants you prefer?”

“I know a few good ones,” Lily began as she and Estinien followed after her. “Don’t worry, I’ll take the lead.”

***

As she wended her way out of Meghaduta, Ascilia spied a Hyuran man waiting in the plaza beyond. By the look of it the man was a Highlander—perhaps of Ala Mhigan descent, she mused—and as she and her allies approached he waved them over.

“Is aught amiss, sir?” she asked.

“Not as such,” he answered, shaking his head. “I just wanted to thank you for putting forth Khalzahl’s name. Those whose lives he enriched will take comfort in seeing his legacy honored.” As he glanced sidelong at Estinien and Lily, the glint of recognition suddenly adorned his face. “Hold on, you wouldn’t happen to be Ascilia, would you?”

“... I am, yes.”

“I bear a message for you and your friends, from Archon Y’shtola,” he began. “She asks that you meet her at the High Crucible at your earliest convenience.”

“Understood, thank you.” As the guardsman departed, presumably to rejoin his unit, Ascilia turned to Estinien and Lily. “If she’s already back from the vault, then we’ll have to postpone dinner for a while.”

“Not for too long, I hope,” Estinien grumbled. “Let’s be on our way then.”

“Go on without me,” said Lily, stretching her arms as she began to move forward. “I’ll get a table at Mehryde’s, save us some time.”

“I will go with you.”

All three turned to look at the source of the voice—Vrtra, or rather Varshahn, had followed them out from the palace.

“Can you even eat?” Lily asked, cocking her head to the side.

Varshahn gave a quiet chuckle. “With careful preparation, yes. But I meant I will go to the High Crucible with you. I am curious to learn what conclusions your Archon has reached concerning the gate and its unique construction.”

Estinien cocked an eyebrow. “I thought the satrap would be too busy setting up the foundation…?”

“My clerks have been the well-oiled cogs of this administration since before Ahewann assumed the office,” Varshahn replied, shaking his head. “They understand what needs to be done. Now, shall we depart?”

“As you wish,” Estinien sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Allow me to lead the way, your Excellency.”

With that the four of them departed from Meghaduta. After parting ways with Lily at the markets, it was not long before they found themselves entering the High Crucible of Al-Kimiya. Staring at the massive furnace opposite the entrance, Ascilia couldn’t help but feel impressed. Compared to its opulent construction, the Alchemist’s Guild of Ul’dah was scarcely more than a hole in a wall.

It was here that they found Y’shtola, waiting near the center of the High Crucible. As they approached her, Ascilia caught her squinting her eyes. “... I thought Lily would be with you. Has she gotten lost?”

“Lily has gone ahead of us to Mehryde’s Meyhane,” Ascilia responded with a warm smile. “We’ll be having dinner there once we’re finished. On that note, have you learned anything new about the hollow, or the contraption sealing it shut?”

“Well, while the four of you busied yourselves seeing to Thavnair’s needs, I took a closer look at the device. I was able to determine how it keeps the voidgate sealed, but not how it might instead be employed to expand the opening.” Despite her choice of words, there was an odd and familiar chipperness to Y’shtola’s tone. Between that and her near-grinning expression, it seemed she’d already made up her mind on how to handle this. “For that, I would need to reference the technique developed by Vrtra’s alchemists—no records of which appear to have survived the intervening years.”

“We know this, so why have you sent for us?” asked Estinien, clearly exasperated. “Have you learned aught of value or not?”

“Patience, good ser—one must introduce the subject before launching into specifics.” Then, turning to Ascilia, she raised a hand to her chin. “Now, I had hoped to use Lily’s experiences with traversing the rift as an object lesson. But you’ve had to do so as well. Would you mind helping me with this presentation?”

“A presentation?” Ascilia asked, only to laugh as an old memory came flooding back to her. “Oh very well, hm hm! Though I’ve not done one of those in a lifetime—nor have I had time to prepare our notes…”

“You’ll do fine, Ascilia. Simply follow my lead, and offer your own insight where you feel it is appropriate.” After clearing her throat, Y’shtola wasted no time as she began to exposit. “Now then, from what we understand, travel between worlds is accomplished by passing through the nebulous rift which exists between them…”

***

“Is there anything I can get you?” Mihleel asked. “Aside from water, I mean.”

Taking her eyes off the Auri waitress as she sat down at her table, Lily shook her head. “I’m just killing time until Ascilia returns with our guests. The four of us will be eating here tonight. But if you don’t mind staying after work, we can make that five.”

“Hah, well…” Mihleel began, trailing off as she glanced out the window. “... Having dinner with the saviors of Thavnair—well, three of them and a friend. It sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime, if you ask me.”

“And you don’t want to say no,” Lily intuited, giving the girl a knowing smile. “But you’re busy tonight, aren’t you?”

It was a cold read, honestly. The night was still quite young, and few people wouldn’t have something they wanted to do. Even if she didn’t, it was clear to Lily from her hesitation that Mihleel wasn’t sold on the idea of a dinner date right now.

Which made Mihleel’s reaction all the more surprising to her.

“How did you know?” she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. “Are you one of those seers?”

“What? No, I… well, maybe. I guess you could say—” Sighing, Lily shifted her posture a little, trying to make herself seem a little less imposing. “That was just a guess, Mihly. I can’t see the future, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“O-oh, sorry,” Mihleel apologized, bowing her head as she took a seat beside Lily. “Well, you’re right about my plans for the night. I’ve a date with a very close friend—we will be going out for dinner and entertainment, you see.”

Well, Lily thought, it couldn’t hurt to engage in a spot of gossip while she waited. “A date, hm? That makes two of us, I suppose. If you don’t mind me asking, who's the lucky someone winning your heart?”

“I don’t think it’s gotten that serious,” said Mihleel, chuckling as she waved her hand. “She’s an Arkasodara. Strong as a gaja, yet gentle as a lamb, with eyes you could drown in…” Then, as if realizing what she just said, she quietly laughed again. “Well, maybe I am a touch smitten. When a woman as cute as her sweeps you into her arms, it’s hard not to be.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Lily lied. Sadly, the only ones she knew who’d pulled such a feat off for her were Estinien and Ryne. For obvious reasons, she had no romantic inclinations towards either. “How long have you been dating, exactly?”

“About three months, a little under four?” Mihleel shrugged her shoulders. “Mh, time has a habit of getting away from me lately. It feels like it was only yesterday that the Final Days had come and gone…”

“Right? Would it kill the seasons to move a little slower? Life is short enough as it is.” Though in truth, life had already lost its luster twice over for Lily. That she could find it again, that she did, was nothing short of a miracle. But it was on that thought that her mood took a turn for the worse, and she found herself reminiscing on days that felt a lifetime ago. “... Do you ever find yourself wishing you just… go back a few years, and make different choices in the way your life unfolded?”

“Hmm… I did let an opportunity or three slip by me.” But with a shrug of her shoulders, Mihleel seemed to dismiss the idea. “But that was then, and I’m fairly happy with the life I live now. Mehryde pays well, and on slow days she lets me loaf about and watch the dancers. What about you, though?”

“Since you asked, I suppose it can’t hurt to say this...” Lily began, glancing away as she rested her hands upon the tabletop. She’d hoped to keep the conversation firmly on Mihleel. But at the risk of exposing one of her most long-standing grudges, she would not let the opportunity to air her feelings slip by. “Sometimes, when I’m feeling down, I look back on my flight from Dalmasca at nineteen and wonder where I’d be if I’d stayed.”

“If you don’t mind me saying so, I’m glad you didn’t,” said Mihleel, placing her hand on top of Lily’s. “I know you must get this a lot, but I might not even be alive if not for you and your friends. Thank you.”

Lily’s eyes darted over towards Mihleel, then down to their hands. There was little point in arguing against another’s gratitude. So, with a smile more sincere than it ought to have been, she merely nodded. “Mh.”

“Come to think of it,” Mihleel began, redirecting the topic, “Dalmasca was under Garlean rule for over 30 years, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Lily answered curtly.

“Growing up under the occupation must have been terribly trying,” said Mihleel, continuing on in apparent ignorance to her growing discomfort. “But as it so happens, I have a proposal you may like to hear.”

“... Go on.”

“One of our dancers tonight is a Viera who arrived here from Dalmasca a few months ago.” Standing up, Mihleel skirted around Lily and the table, then guided her attention to the stage. There were four dancers tonight: An Auri man, two Midlanders who appeared to be twins of the opposite sex, and a Viera with shoulder-length red hair. “I think her name was Ruby… no, Rubedo. She’s a bit stiff and unsociable, but I think the two of you would get along well.”

“It’s a shame you can’t stick around to introduce us,” Lily remarked, hoping her embarrassment wasn’t showing at this point. “Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow, at the start of your shift—when is that, exactly?”

“It’s no trouble—”

“Mihleel!” shouted Mehryde from the counter across the Meyhane.

“Ah, sorry!” After bowing her head low, Mihleel spun around and flashed a panicked smile at Lily. “I’ve got to go bus a few tables, Lily. But don’t worry, I’ll introduce you and your friends to Rubedo later!”

“You—” Lily began, but the Auri waitress had already sped off towards her employer, leaving Lily alone, her gaze lingering on her hand. With a heavy sigh, she raised it to her forehead. “Usually I have to lie about my age. Do I seriously come across as a girl in her early twenties?”

But truth be told, she told herself, it was hardly a big deal. Mihleel was just trying to do something nice for her, the so-called ‘hero’ she held in such high regard. There was no harm in simply seeing things out, or so she believed.

And so she returned her attention to the dancers, hoping against hope that her friends would arrive shortly.

***

“... So to summarize this puppet show of yours,” Estinien began, folding one arm over his chest and bracing the other by his chin, “Under most circumstances a living body won’t survive traversing the rift between worlds. And though they can be guided across, portals are both too small and too short-lived for this, so instead would-be summoners grab their target’s soul.”

“Precisely,” said Y’shtola, smiling as she glanced sidelong at Ascilia. “For a being to navigate the chaos of the rift, with or without form, there must needs be a guiding agent on the other side. Present company excluded, of course.”

“I must again stress that I did have a guide,” Ascilia insisted, turning her attention to the far wall. With the ball of light she conjured, she cast the shadows of her hands together in the form of a rabbit. “A newly made friend and psychopomp by the name of Seventh Heaven.”

“Be that as it may, it is the exception that proves the rule,” Varshahn chimed in. “To my knowledge, planar fissures are another exception; natural passages between our world and the void, which require no such guidance to traverse.” Then, as Ascilia dismissed her conjured ball of light, he lowered his head in apparent thought. “Why is only the boundary between the Source and the Thirteenth so fragile? So much so that it often tears open of its own accord…”

“Had Venat not chosen to rest, we might have been able to ask for her perspective,” said Ascilia, bowing her head as she raised a hand to her heart. “We can do little more than idly muse the reason, I’m afraid.”

“Quite so,” said Y’shtola. “But I believe solving that mystery is key to understanding travel between the Source and its reflections.”

“And how do you intend to get your answers?” Estinien asked, narrowing his eyes.

The answer to Estinien’s question was clear enough—Ascilia had intuited as much earlier that day. But it seemed as though the thought hadn’t yet crossed the minds of either him or Vrtra until only just now.

“... No!” Varshahn suddenly shouted. “The danger is too great!”

“Perhaps,” Y’shtola agreed, smiling again as she turned to Ascilia. “But what some call ‘danger’, others think of as ‘adventure’.”

“Were you not listening to my tale?” complained Varshahn, his youthful voice edging towards anger. “Never mind that the means to expand the gate have been lost to the ages. Even could you force the portal wide enough, you would be greeted by an army of murderous horrors the very instant you stepped through.”

“I assure you I was most attentive. And I agree that to go alone would be certain death.” Then, motioning to Ascilia, Y’shtola made a brash suggestion. “But if I were to bring along one who has already braved the Thirteenth and humbled the Cloud of Darkness—well, I imagine my chances would be much improved.”

Ascilia had known from the moment Y’shtola laid eyes upon that hollow that a journey into the Void was in her future. There was no deterring this Archon from her course once she’d made up her mind. But her old friend seemed all too eager to cross a particular line tonight—one she wouldn’t tolerate being crossed again.

Furrowing her brow as she dismissed her ball of light, Ascilia carefully considered her words. “Understand that I wholeheartedly support your endeavor—and for more reasons than you might expect. But I can not—will not—make that decision on Lily’s behalf. So until you’ve vetted your plans with her personally, I’m afraid I must decline.”

“What are you—” Y’shtola quickly replied, only to cut herself short. “... Very well. I shall endeavor not to take her support for granted. Or anyone else’s, for that matter.” Then, turning to Varshahn, she shrugged her shoulders. “As much as I would like to march straight back to the voidgate, there is the small matter of being unable to open it without the satrap’s personal authority...”

“As I’ve said before,” Varshahn replied, “I will grant you and yours any boon you choose to name… provided it does not endanger my people.”

“You have my word that I will take every precaution—not a single voidsent will be allowed to threaten Radz-at-Han. Even if I must do so alone.” Sighing, Y’shtola shook her head. “Assuming I manage to expand the portal in the first place…”

“You have a plan, then?” Estinien asked.

“Actually, I had hoped Vrtra might help us with that,” said Y’shtola, returning her attention to Varshahn. “I presume the alchemists you retained supplied you with some explanation of their methodology?”

“That they did,” Varshahn replied. “House Daemir was overseeing the project…”

Crossing her arms, Y’shtola began rapping her knuckles against her sleeves. “Daemir… Daemir… Ah, yes, the family associated with the Great Work.”

“This was a long time ago, mind you,” said Varshahn, lowering his head and raising a hand to his chin. “I did not fully comprehend the theory, but their research began with a voidsent which had slipped through the fissure.” Then, raising his head once more, he continued. “After a thorough examination, they created an arcane simulacrum possessed of similar qualities. It was apparently indispensable in their efforts to enlarge the gate.”

“A man-made voidsent?” Ascilia asked, having put what he’d explained together. “If Sharlayan was then as it is now,  I daresay they would’ve lost their minds.”

“I fear it is as you say. Being great admirers of the Archons, House Daemir submitted detailed notes to Sharlayan’s official committee.” As he looked over to Y’shtola, Varshahn shook his head. “They had expected praise and accolades for their simulacrum, and were thus devastated to be informed that their work had been classified as prohibited material.”

“If that’s true, then those notes might still be stored in a forbidden archive somewhere,” Y’shtola suggested, evidently still undaunted. “Not Gubal, of course, since that library had yet to be built. Which leaves us with Noumenon.”

“Your favorite place for a nap,” said Ascilia, faintly grinning.

Y’shtola rolled her eyes. “I don’t suppose you’ll object to accompanying me into the restricted section, then.”

“We can leave tomorrow morning,” Ascilia replied, her grin growing into a warm smile. “But first I’d like to invite you to dine with Lily, Estinien, and myself. And since you’ve been nodding off in a public library, perhaps we could see about renting you a room for the night.”

Y’shtola opened her mouth to speak, only to chuckle instead as her stomach grumbled. “... Oh, very well. Knowledge may never sleep, but seekers of it are seldom so fortunate.” Then, after bowing her head before Varshahn, she smiled herself. “Thank you for this opportunity. I don’t suppose you’ll be joining us for dinner as well?”

“... That will be unnecessary,” Varshahn replied. “Do not worry for me—enjoy your evening, my friends.”

The three departed soon after, wending their way northward to Mehyrde’s Meyhane. And though he was long out of earshot by then, Ascilia couldn’t help but feel she’d heard him whispering something to himself.

She is resolved to venture into the Void. Do I sit idly by…?

***

The seconds turned to minutes as Lily continued to idle away, occasionally sipping from a glass of water Mihleel had brought her between bussing tables.

Without much else to do, she’d mostly been focusing on the dancers. Their movements were mostly in sync, though it was clear to her now that the one with the most technical skill was the Auri man. The twins, who seemed about sixteen or seventeen summers old, were about equal to each other. No doubt they’d been doing this for a while. The odd one out was the Viera, Rubedo. Her movements, as Lily noted, were rarely out of sync. But the discrepancies in her footwork—the way she would click her heels against the floor—made it clear she was dancing to a different beat altogether.

One Lily herself could hear, if she but closed her eyes. The song of the living land itself, molded by civilization…

Just as she’d begun to hum along, the sound of her linkpearl ringing broke her concentration. Reaching up to her ear, she gently activated it.

“We’re on our way to the Meyhane, Lily!” crackled the voice of Ascilia. “If you don’t mind, would you order a few drinks for us? Estinien tells me a certain Auri waitress is well acquainted with our fellowship’s tastes in spirits.”

“I’ll call her over, don’t worry,” Lily replied. “See you soon.”

As her linkpearl fell quiet, she scanned the Meyhane for Mihleel, and upon spotting her cupped her hands over her mouth. But before she could even begin to shout, she felt a sharp pain in her forehead. She knew the significance of this all too well, and there was no point in fighting it.

Quietly, she let the vision take hold.

***

“There was a skirmish near the port,” her linkpearl crackled. “The men and I have taken care of it, but we could use your aid in treating the wounded.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” she replied, peering down a quiet alleyway from her perch above.

She'd been tailing IVth Legion holdouts all morning, routing them before they could ambush one of the Resistance's patrols. In total she'd taken down twenty-nine soldiers—a motley crew of people from all across the star. This last group would bring her count up to thirty-four. Like all the others, these five had been on the move most of the morning. Each of the groups she'd seen had been heading in the same direction—to Valnain's southern district, where the ports lay. Putting this together with Ascilia's report, it was obvious what their intentions were. But where the others had risked getting caught, these five had holed up in the ramshackle apartments below.

They were aware of her. But that wouldn't matter once—

As her ears twitched, she twisted and jerked away, her stone perch exploding into a fireball. Hurtling herself across the alleyway to the other side, she tore through the wall around a shattered window, pouncing upon the source of the explosion: A Bangaa thaumaturge. In one moment he'd launched the attack on her, and in the next was out cold on the floor.

With that distraction taken care of, she kicked down the patio door the Bangaa had used as cover, then leapt into the alleyway below, her cape billowing in the descent. Four distinct figures—A male Highlander, a Viera, a female Hrothgar, and another Bangaa—had dashed out from their hiding place and were just about to turn the nearest corner. But within a few seconds she'd closed the gap, hammering the flat of her blade into the Highlander's back. The Hrothgar stopped in her tracks as the man fell, unsheathing her gunblade as she spun to face her.

"I'll hold her here!" she barked to the Bangaa and Viera. "Get moving!"

Without hesitation she charged forward, only to be stopped as the Hrothgar barred her path. In one moment their blades clashed, in the next she swiftly evaded her foe's follow-up attack before striking at her knee, sending the Hrothgar falling into the dirt and stone. Glancing up, she spied the Bangaa pointing his handgonne at her, and launched a counter-attack before he could even pull the trigger, launching a sphere of life draining darkness into him. But as he dropped to his knees in clear agony, gasping for breath, the Hrothgar surged up, clutching her from behind in a full nelson.

"I ordered you to flee, boy!" she bellowed, their enemy struggling in her grip.

"Not without you and the rest!" the Bangaa hissed right back, closing the gap between them and planting his handgonne against her stomach. "This ends here, Vulture!"

With one swift movement, she dislocated her right shoulder and hammered her left leg into the Bangaa's groin. With both foes thrown off-balance, she slipped from her captor's grasp and elbowed her in the gut, then headbutted the stumbling Bangaa before unleashing wave after wave of darkness, tearing into both adversaries until they stopped moving. Then, darting for the ground, she seized the fallen Bangaa's firearm and readied it.

"There's no point in fighting anymore," she declared, leveling it at the Hrothgar. "Surrender already."

"Piss off, sellsword," the Hrothgar spat back, dragging herself up to her knees. "Why are you so godsdamned insistent on catching fleeing men?"

"This is my homeland," she answered. "If the IVth Legion is allowed to regroup, the fighting will assuredly continue."

"And you don't want to spill your countrymen's blood anymore, is that it?" The Hrothgar's eyes darted to her gunblade, then back. "Well, we're not regrouping. War's over, kid!"

"Then why'd you attack the docks?" she asked, standing firm.

"I answer to my superiors, not a lickspittle like you." Once more, the Hrothgar's eyes darted to the gunblade. It was well within reach. But in response, she lowered the handgonne, pointing it at the Bangaa instead. "You wouldn't dare—"

"Try me."

"... Godsdamn you, Vulture." Lowering her head, the Hrothgar took a sharp breath. "The plan was to take the docks, grab any ships we could, and flee. Leave for whatever nation would take us."

"So Hingashi or Thavnair—maybe the distant shores of Meracydia." She shook her head. "Fat chance. You'd starve before you made it to safe harbors."

"Better than swinging in the gallows. Dying to uphold 'justice' for dried blood and puppet rulers." As if sensing the hesitation in her laxing stance, the Hrothgar cackled. "I know what your lot did to our spy in Bozja. Do you really believe the regimes rising up from the IVth's ashes will be any better?"

"You're referring to Misija?" she queried.

"Oh, so you know her!" The Hrothgar sneered and glared into her eyes. "Yes, that whelp of a Roe. Your allies sacrificed her to summon an eikon—a fell mockery of the last Queen of Bozja."

All lies. Misija had summoned Gunnhildr—once to awaken the soul within Save the Queen, and again to become one with her. And though she was the Resistance's enemy, she died from injuries sustained in a clash with the IVth Legion's own secret weapon: the Diabolos Armament. But it seemed the IVth Legion told a different tale, and there was little use arguing otherwise at this juncture. Their dreams of a united nation under Noah van Gabranth had died, and their truth would go with them.

"Believe what you will," she said, black-violet flames engulfing her right arm, her right shoulder snapping back into place. "But your only hope from here on is surrender."

"... 'Black Vulture' my arse. You're a genuine demon." Spitting into the dirt and stone, the Hrothgar rose to her feet. "Looks like the cavalry's here. But at least I'll die knowing one of my cubs will live to see the morrow."

With her backup having arrived and her arm healing, she was free to contact Ascilia. Carefully reaching up with her right arm to avoid tearing anything, she activated her linkpearl.

"On my way," she said. "What's the situation at the docks?"

"Just wounded soldiers, I'm afraid," came her beloved's voice. "Ah, and one of the ships left harbor. En route to Thavnair, in fact—the princess has ordered dignitaries dispatched to repair a burned bridge, it seems."

"Relay this message to them, and whoever's overseeing the docks: Keep an eye out for stowaways."

***

When at last she'd come to, Lily gently clutched her right shoulder, wincing as the pain she'd endured months ago resurfaced. Though not the most unusual vision the Echo had forced upon her, it was still rather bizarre. Those were her own memories being fed back to her. Pondering this, she concluded that there was only one reason that could've happened, and scanned the Meyhane accordingly. Her suspicions proved on the nose as her eyes darted to the quarter of dancers—the red-haired Viera had collapsed on stage, and was nursing both her forehead and her shoulder.

"That's the third time this week," said the Auri man, helping the woman to her feet. "Did you land on your shoulder this time? Here, let me see it."

"I-I am fine," the Viera protested, though she was clearly distressed. "It is only a... a phantom pain, born of the Seer's Gift."

"Who's future did you see this time?" one of the Hyuran twins asked as the Viera stumbled forward. "Hey, easy there!"

"It was not the future, I think," the Viera replied, stopping to shake her head. "I... may need to sit down for a moment."

Taking her by the arm, the Auri dancer guided her towards the counter. "Just rest up for the night, Ruby. Don't push yourself too hard."

"I just—" the Viera began, but her benefactor had already returned to the stage. As the remaining three returned to their performance, she sighed and faced Mehryde behind the counter. "... Might I have something to dull the senses, Miss Mehryde?"

Though Lily had half a mind to go and check on the woman herself, from the corner of her eye she spotted Mihleel greeting three new arrivals: Estinien, Y'shtola, and her beloved Ascilia. Moments later the Auri waitress had guided them to her table, smiling as they took their seats.

"Now before I bring out the menu," she began, "would any of you care for a drink? They're on the house, as usual."

"The usual," Estinien answered, crossing his arms on the table.

"I've not been here in a long while," said Y'shtola, shrugging her shoulders. "I suppose whatever Ascilia or Estinien is having will be fine."

"In that case," Ascilia began, motioning to Y'shtola, "Shtola and I will have the same drink you prepared this afternoon for me."

"Of course, of course." After bowing her head, Mihleel turned to leave, only to stop in her tracks. "Ah, it seems Rubedo is done for the night. I'll bring her over for you right away, Lily!"

"Hold on—" she began to protest, but Mihleel had already rushed away, leaving Lily to shake her head in exasperation. Turning to her friends, she noted their expressions and sighed. "Be honest with me. Do I come across as a 'little sister' to you?"

"... Is this a trick question?" asked Estinien, looking mildly bemused.

"Sometimes," Y'shtola admitted, snickering. "Your current wardrobe certainly isn't helping. Did Tataru make that for you? I can't imagine you would wear it otherwise."

"She did," Lily sighed again. "Worst part is, it's actually pretty comfortable. Not as much as my traveling attire, mind you..."

"Well, I for one think you look wonderful," Ascilia beamed as she patted Lily on the shoulder. "And as approachable and cuddly as a stuffed bear, to boot."

At this, Lily began to blush, and rather thoroughly at that. "Alright, alright. I'll admit it—I may have some trouble acting my age at times. Let the record show that I, Galbana Lily of Rabanastre, celebrated my fifty-third nameday this year."

"Fifty-three years old?" Estinien raised an eyebrow. "... No, I daren't ask."

"In my time on the First," Ascilia began, reaching over to take a sip from Lily's glass of water, "the girls I shadowed would on occasion meet with Viis up to two centuries old, yet they rarely seemed much older than Lily." Then, setting the glass down, she gave Lily a warm smile. "But that's enough teasing you for one night, I think. We ought to get you up to speed on Y'shtola's progress with the hollow."

"Will you be doing your puppet show again?" Estinien asked her.

"That won't be necessary," Y'shtola interjected, chuckling for reasons Lily could only imagine. "And I can't say there's much Lily wouldn't already be aware of, given her history of dealing with voidsent, time travel, and other such matters." Clearing her throat, she looking Lily directly in the eye. "Having said that, I wish to extend an invitation to you. I do not know precisely when, but I mean to traverse the rift between worlds."

Though she hardly wished to let go of the mirth she was experiencing, Lily felt the need to push it aside. For now, she needed to put some serious thought into the request Y'shtola was trying to pose to her. "Before I give you an answer, I must ask: Is this about rescuing Azdaja, or your desire to reach the First?"

"Would you believe me if I said both?" asked Y'shtola, giving a hopeful looking smile.

"... And you wish to have my perspective on both, I wager." After taking one last sip of her water, Lily cleared her throat. This might not earn her any friends, she knew, but it needed to be said regardless. "I'll start with Azdaja then. Put simply, trying to rescue her can only end in disaster. The Void is not like our world, as I learned when I fought with the Cloud of Darkness. Though I succeeded in putting an end to their pact with Allag, we scarcely had time to breathe before they renewed their assault."

"Hold on," said Estinien, interrupting her. "You say this demon you fought continued on even after it died?"

"I am saying they did not die at all," she clarified. "They are rather more like the Ascians I've faced. Without special means, it is impossible to keep them down for good. And time makes sand of even the sturdiest mountains."

"So you believe that Azdaja may have been devoured," said Y'shtola, closing her eyes. "Or perhaps she has met a fate equally terrible—becoming a voidsent herself."

"They are the most likely possibilities, and her survival is a distant third." Lily shook her head. "I know that's not what you wished to hear, but—"

"Thank you for your patience, everyone!" Mihleel declared, grabbing the whole table's attention as she slipped into view. She was carrying a serving tray in her hands, upon which sat three distinctive wooden mugs. "I'm sorry it took this long. It was my own fault, really."

"Think nothing of it," said Ascilia, giving the waitress a warm smile as she set down everyone's drinks. "... If I may, is that woman hiding in your shadow this 'Rubedo' of yours?"

"... I am," came a soft voice, barely louder than a whisper. "My name is Rubedo aan... of Thavnair, I mean."

Stepping forward to stand beside Mihleel, Rubedo made her presence known. Three things about her immediately struck Lily as odd. Her shoulders were not quite as broad as Lily's own, and her longcoat was doing the bulk of the work in making her appear even the slightest bit endowed. She was even on the shorter end for a Viera—barely more than a head taller than Mihleel. All this combined gave Lily the distinct impression that she was rather young, perhaps in her middle of her teenage years. And yet something about that conclusion felt off to her.

Perhaps it was her scarlet red hair, her round, almost cherubic face, and those glimmering golden eyes...

"... I feel as though we've met before," she told the newcomer. "But that can't be right."

"Is that so?" Mihleel asked, glancing up at Rubedo. "Ruby, have you met Galbana Lily?"

"I've—Galbana Lily?" Looking into Lily's eyes, Rubedo suddenly gasped. "You! It... of all the... how..."

"Out with it already," Estinien griped, clapping his mug against the table. "Do you know each other or not?"

After both shooting glares at him, the Viera continued staring into each others eyes. Not once in the entirety of Lily's life did she expect to run into someone from her childhood. Few Viera ever left the lands of Golmore or Skatay, and the ones that did often drifted across the star rather than gathering in one region. But here, in this most unlikely of places, one such Viera had entered her life once again. Only...

"I must've been mistaken," said Lily. "You're the very image of my mother, and bear my father's eyes. Are you the daughter of my brother, Krjn?"

"No," Rubedo answered, a somewhat hurt expression adorning her face. "I... I am Krjn."