Ascilia, Scion of Light

The red sun peeked through the clouds the morning after, scattering its westward light across the isle of Thavnair. Easterly winds carried with them the smell of rain and sound of thunder. Though on its last legs, a storm was coming. Those who needed to work outdoors would no doubt find the mild inclement weather annoying; Even those walking the streets of Radz-at-Han would stay clear of open areas for a while.

It was fortunate, then, that Ascila would be spending her morning on the other side of the star.

As she and Lily walked through the streets leading to the city’s aetheryte plaza, she glanced up at her beloved’s face and caught sight of her wincing. “Are you still feeling sore after last night? I thought I was being gentle—”

“No, no,” Lily suddenly blurted out, shaking her head. “The pressure’s just getting to my head is all. It’ll be better once I’m in Ul’dah.”

“Ah, I see. Then this doesn’t hurt at all?” Reaching behind Lily’s cape, Ascilia firmly grasped her bottom, causing the Viera to stop and glance sidelong at her. “Hm hm, I’m only teasing~. But you know, you really ought to take it easy today. Whatever business you have in Ul’dah can wait.”

“It’s nothing too strenuous,” said Lily, blushing as she brushed Ascilia’s hand away. “Really, you don’t have to worry.”

Truth be told, Ascilia wasn’t certain why it bothered her. Perhaps it was just idle curiosity on her part. Lily had only just mentioned wanting to go to Ul’dah while they were basking in the afterglow of last night’s intimacy. But when it came to saying why, she became uncharacteristically tight-lipped. It was ‘just business’.

She quickly pushed such thoughts aside as they entered the aetheryte plaza. Storm clouds were gathered overhead, water gently raining down upon them while lightning crackled in the distance. Raising her hands together, she spread them apart, forming a barrier of light to block the rain for herself and her beloved.

“Then I suppose I’ll be seeing you in a few hours,” she said as they basked within the aetheric blue light of the crystal. Leaning her head back, she puckered her lips, giggling as Lily kissed them tenderly. “Stay safe out in Ul’dah, my galbana lily. Love you.”

“Love you too, my wild rose.”

As she watched Lily reach out to touch the aetheryte crystal, then disappear in a stream of aether, Ascilia closed her eyes. Though she hardly shared in her beloved’s distaste for Sharlayan and in fact was rather pleased with her time there, when she considered what would be needed to enter Noumenon’s restricted section, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. Rumors abounded of the lengths Sharlayan would go to keep their knowledge out of hands they deemed unworthy—what were the odds they’d simply give access to their forbidden archives, even to a hero like Y’shtola?

Steeling herself for the worst, she reached out to the aetheryte. And in a flash of blue light, she was gone.

***

Appearing within Sharlayan’s aetheryte plaza in a similar flash, Ascilia looked out between the pillars before her. In sharp contrast to the red sky and clouds over Thavnair, morning had not yet broken over the near western city-state—the stars and moon were still shining over the bay. And it was within this moment that something she should have been aware of struck her.

It was three bells before noon when she departed… from Radz-at-Han, six hours ahead of the distant isle of Sharlayan.

Be fair to yourself, Ascilia. You traveled to another world before ever setting foot beyond Eorzea’s borders.

With a stifled laugh, she reached for her ear and activated her linkpearl. “Shtola, are you awake?”

She didn’t expect an answer, truth be told. Though it was close to twelve hours since they parted ways, Ascilia figured that Y’shtola might well have taken advantage of the spare daylight hours to continue her research. Perhaps she’d even managed to access the forbidden archives herself. But even someone with such a stringent work ethic would have to turn in for the night eventually.

On the other hand, hadn’t she caught Y’shtola napping after days of exhaustive research in Noumenon just the other day?

As if on cue, her linkpearl crackled to life.

“Morning already in Thavnair?” the voice of Y’shtola yawned in her ear. “You’re a mite early, I’m afraid. Most of the city is asleep at this hour—and the Forum won’t be meeting for another four or so.”

“So you couldn’t manage to get a word in with them?” Ascilia asked, hoping she would claim otherwise.

“Apologies, but no,” Y’shtola replied, alongside the sound of a spoon tapping the edges of a cup. “But one of their number did agree to hear me out tomorrow—today, rather. We will be meeting with him before the Forum next convenes.”

Ascilia breathed a sigh of relief. But with one concern out of the way, she found herself flitting to the next. “Delightful, hm hm. Where are you staying at the moment? If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to accompany you.”

“With the Students of Baldesion, naturally,” said Y’shtola, pausing for a moment. “... Mmm, this coffee turned out better than I anticipated…”

“Ah, then you intend to stay awake until the meeting?” She asked as she strode forth, seeking the Baldesion Annex. “Dearest Shtola, have… have you gotten any sleep at all since we last parted ways?”

There was another pause, and Ascilia was fairly certain she heard the sound of the sorceress sipping her coffee. “... Would you mind it terribly if I said ‘no’? I did manage a brief power nap, but mostly I’ve been catching up on my reading.”

“... I see.” As she neared the entrance to the Baldesion Annex, Ascilia cleared her throat. “I’ll be there to take you to bed in a moment, Shtola.”

Her linkpearl crackled as Y’shtola audibly spat out her coffee. “I beg your pardon!?”

“Once I’ve possessed your body,” she began with a smirk, “I’ll tuck your soul within my own, and get you the good night’s rest you rightly deserve.”

“Ascilia, wait—”

Shutting off her linkpearl, Ascilia pushed open the doors to the Annex and stepped inside. As if on cue, she heard the clacking of footsteps rushing towards her, and caught sight of Y’shtola bursting forth from a nearby door.

“Before you do anything rash,” Y’shtola began, bracing herself against the doorway, “May I have a word in?”

“Go on,” said Ascilia, smiling as innocently as a lamb. “I’m listening.”

Pausing to catch her breath, Y’shtola straightened out her back. Then, once it seemed she’d regained her composure, she crossed her arms and shook her head .”Perhaps if you’d come at an earlier hour, sleeping might have been an option. But as I told you over your linkpearl, we have but four hours until the Forum reconvenes for the morning.”

“Plenty of time for a quick nap,” Ascilia pointed out, her smile widening.

“And besides,” Y’shtola continued, her expression growing stern. “Do you have even the slightest idea how much coffee I’ve had tonight?”

It couldn’t have been that much, Ascilia mused. She had only just remarked on the coffee’s taste before getting called out. Even so, she decided to keep that to herself. “I suppose it would be difficult to get even a few winks in that case… very well then. But since you are awake, I hope you don’t mind sharing a little of that coffee with me, hm hm.”

“Of course not,” Y’shtola sighed in clear relief. “But before I do, and I can’t believe I need to say this, I would have you make a promise. Never threaten to possess my body again—or commit such a foul deed unannounced, for that matter.”

At this, Ascilia gave an impish grin. “Of course, dearest Shtola. You have my word. But suppose you gave me permission first…?”

“Should I ever wish to experience being an Ascian’s puppet,” Y’shtola began, rolling her eyes, “You’ll be the first to know.” Then, after sharing a hearty chuckle with Ascilia, she beckoned her closer. “Follow me, then. And do let me know if the taste is to your liking.”

***

Strolling out of the lamplit stalls of the Sapphire Avenue Exchange beneath the warming violet sky, Galbana Lily began to hum in tune with the beating heart of the city’s backstreets. Having found what she was looking for in the marketplace—a mildly heavy silver ingot—she was now headed deeper into the city, past the Gold Court to her next destination: The Goldsmiths' guild.

As she pushed open the double doors and slipped inside the guild hall, Lily took stock of the area. It seemed even at this hour of the day, the goldsmiths were hard at work—men and women of disparate races were tinkering with mammets, music boxes, and various other bits and baubles on the workshop floor. Yet so quiet were they as they worked their trade that she almost felt like she was intruding.

“Good morning,” came a voice to her right. As she turned to look, she caught sight of a bespectacled Midlander woman manning the nearby counter. “How may I help you… ah? Haven’t I seen you before?”

“... Probably,” Lily answered, reaching up to tap one of her earrings. “I commissioned these back when I was with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.”

“The Scions—” the woman began, only to cut herself short with a gasp. “You’re Galbana Lily, aren’t you! The Champion of Eorzea herself!”

“... That’s me,” Lily admitted, glancing aside. “I feel like we’ve met before. Jemmy, right?”

“Jemime,” the woman answered with a smile. “How may the Goldsmiths' Guild help you today?”

Lily cleared her throat, then slipped a hand into her pack, searching for the silver ingot. “I’m looking to commission something from the guild. I’ve brought my own materials just like last time, if that’ll help expedite the process again.”

“Mmm, I’m afraid that’s not up for me to decide,” Jemime replied, scanning the guild hall. “You will have to speak with the guildmaster. Though I’m sorry to say that Miss Serendipity has yet to arrive this morning.”

“Any idea when she’ll be in?” Lily asked, sounding a touch more hopeful than she’d anticipated. “If it’s any time soon, I can stay and wait.”

“Just a moment, please.” Closing her eyes, Jemime reached for her ear and lightly pressed down on something—a linkpearl, or so Lily assumed. Roughly a minute passed before she suddenly smiled and spoke again. “My apologies, Sera. But you have a request from a very important client.”

“Not that important…” Lily protested, far too quietly to be heard.

“No, no, it’s the Champion of Eorzea. You know the one.” After another half-minute of waiting, Jemime lowered her hand and bowed her head. “Miss Serendipity will be with us in a few minutes, Galbana Lily. Please make yourself comfortable until then.”

“Right, right,” said Lily, sighing as she glanced about for a chair. But there were scant few of them, surprisingly, and it seemed they were reserved for the guild hall’s employees. With no better options, she instead made do with leaning against a nearby wall for support. “Maybe I should’ve stopped at the Miner’s Guild first…”

Watching the chronometer on the wall behind the receptionist’s counter, Lily counted the minutes as they passed. One, two, ten, twenty... after precisely fifty-six minutes, the doors to the guild hall swung open again and another Midlander woman stumbled through. Between her impressive albeit wrinkly attire, gold-rimmed glasses, and distinctive lilac pigtailed hair, it was immediately obvious to Lily just who this was.

“Good to see you again, Sera!” she beamed, waving at the guildmaster.

With a loud yawn, Serendipity removed her glasses and stretched her arms. Then, placing them back where they belonged, she returned Lily’s smile with one of her own. “Hello there, miss. I’m afraid I don’t recognize you—are you a new recruit? A fresh-faced hire looking to learn a trade?”

“Not that I’d mind, but no,” Lily replied, her smile widening as she stifled a laugh. “It’s me, Galbana Lily. I came here a few years ago, remember?” Watching as the guildmaster tilted her head and raised a hand to her chin, she felt it necessary to offer up a little more. “It was to have an earring repaired—one belonging to F’lhaminn Qesh. And… and I also commissioned a pair of earrings for myself while I was here.”

That was over two years ago. Minfilia—Ascilia, rather—had noticed her mother’s troubled behavior. Knowing that she would feign wellness to avoid placing the burden of her problems on her daughter’s shoulders, Ascilia requested that Lily personally tend to her needs. And it was this that led her to Ul’dah, bearing a slightly damaged earring inlaid with golden hued cat’s eye gems.

Then, same as now, she had purchased a small silver ingot from the markets, and used the opportunity to commission the Goldsmiths' Guild. Only in truth, it was not earrings she’d wanted made for her. But she was a different woman altogether back then, and when the opportunity to profess her love laid itself upon her lap...

“Oh! Yes, I remember now. Memedesu tasked himself with repairing F’lhamiin’s Aria. We were short of hands that day, though, so I personally handled your ear—” As she stopped, Serendipity squinted her eyes. “Hold on, are those the same earrings you commissioned back then?”

“... They are,” Lily answered somewhat sheepishly. “Thank you for arriving on such short notice, by the way. Sorry that I interrupted your sleep.”

“For a hero like you, it’s no trouble at all!” Serendipity exclaimed, evidently not catching the brief grimace on Lily’s face. “Anyroad, since you came all this way and called on me, I can only imagine what you must want commissioned this time.”

“It’s nothing that out of the ordinary,” said Lily, ruffling through her pack and producing the silver ingot. “But I wanted to have a ring made.”

As she took the silver ingot, her hand sinking for a moment from its weight, Serendipity raised an eyebrow. “Just the one ring? With this much silver a skilled goldsmith could make at least half a dozen… So is this ring for you, or someone else?”

“It’s for a woman I love,” Lily declared, smiling warmly. “I want to propose to her.”

“Oh?” Serendipity asked, beaming with clear delight. “Who’s the lucky woman, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“You wouldn’t believe—” Lily began, only to stop. Mulling things over for a bit, she decided to come clean. “... Do you remember Minfilia Warde?”

“Oh! You mean the Queen of the Mines!” Serendipity exclaimed, smile widening. “One of our more prolific contributors in our dealings with the Miner’s Guild, at least until she retired. Which, um, was before my time as guildmaster! But I digress…”

“Queen of the Mines…?” asked Lily, her mind reeling. She’d known Ascilia was a miner earlier in her life, but this was the first she’d heard of her renown.

“It’s a shame what happened to her, really,” Serendipity continued on, seemingly ignoring the confused look on Lily’s face. “Disappearing without a trace on that awful night. What a horrible way to go.”

“She’s alive,” Lily said, setting aside both this newfound knowledge and those old, painful memories. “And she goes by ‘Ascila’ now.”

“Wait, really!?” Serendipity gasped, nearly dropping the silver ingot as she clapped a hand over her mouth in shock. “Forget what I just said, that’s really fortunate! But why the change of name? Oh, is she living undercover, and nobody told her the whole ‘framed for regicide’ thing was done and dusted?”

“... No, no. She felt taking up her birth name would help her get a fresh start on life,” Lily answered, unsure what else she could say. “Anyways. If she accepts the ring, I mean to be wed in the coming months.”

“That’s wonderful to hear! If she accepts it, I mean. If she doesn’t then, well, never mind that.” With a skip in her step, Serendipity headed down into the Goldsmith’s Guild’s workshop. “Ordinarily, a good wedding band would take several weeks—most of which is coming up with the design, mind you.”

“Several weeks, huh?” Lily began as she followed along behind her. “I’d hoped to have it done today. I guess I’ll just—”

“... Hey, let me finish!” Serendipity exclaimed, shaking her head. “Like I was saying, ordinarily it takes that long. But if you need a ring quickly, I’ll do you a favor and make two. A simple one for now, and a proper wedding band over the next few weeks.”

While Serendipity took a seat at a nearby counter, immediately getting to work, Lily looked away, lowering her head in thought. The sheer spontaneity of her planning was surely biting her in the arse, she believed. She knew next to nothing about marriage or weddings—that she’d gotten this far at all was something of a small miracle. If she were now the woman she was then, she’d have certainly panicked and made a mistake.

But she was stronger now, and knew where Ascilia’s heart lied. All she needed to do was…

“Do you think it’d be alright if I brought Ascilia here?” she asked. “To help come up with a design for the ring.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” said Serendipity, her bespectacled eyes focused on her work. “She’ll need a ring to give you, too, right? If you two don’t mind paying extra, I’d be happy to make three rings for this special occasion.”

“Thank you so much, Sera,” Lily chirped. “So, how long do you think this first ring will take…?”

***

Ascilia and Y’shtola whiled away the hours, drinking coffee, eating biscuits, and speaking with one another. The coffee was rather decent for a first time effort, and while the biscuits were no doubt purchased from the Last Stand, they complemented the coffee rather well. And with all she knew of Lily’s venture into the distant past four months ago, Ascilia had more than enough material to keep her friend entertained.

But as much fun as they were having, the hours passed far too quickly, and before she knew it the pair had departed out into daylight. Their destination this time around was the Studium, where they would seek the aid of one Scholarch Montichaigne. And as she stood before the giant-sized double doors to its hallowed halls, she couldn’t help but wonder...

“Did you study here, Shtola?” she asked. “For that matter, what of my brother, Thancred?”

“I’m afraid not. I apprenticed to Master Matoya at the age of seven, and labored under her tutelage for a full decade. I never had the chance to attend the Studium…” Trailing off, Y’shtola appeared to Ascilia to be lost in thought. But soon after she perked her head up and continued on. “... Neither did Thancred, as I recall. Soon after Master Louisoix took him in off the streets, he was put in the care of another Archon. And after that, well, I’m certain you know all the rest.”

“I suppose I do,” said Ascilia, thinking back to her early years as Antecedent to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.

He was just a young man of seventeen summers when they first met—when she, a girl of twelve, watched her father die. And over the next fifteen years her feelings shifted like the changing of the seasons. From a cold and bitter fury no child should ever have to feel burning within, to reluctant acceptance, and finally familial love and admiration.

In those five years after the Calamity, Thancred’s skills in espionage and survival had played a pivotal role in gathering intel for her. Yet even as their numbers swelled and she expanded her network of influence, he continued to work himself to the bone. Burning both ends of the night whenever he could. And not once in those first five years did he slip up or make a mistake.

Until the day their newest recruit was forced to do battle with Ifrit, God of the Amalj’aa...

Pushing such thoughts from her mind, Ascilia adorned herself with a well-practiced smile. “But I was curious what it might be like to study here.”

“I sometimes wonder about that myself,” Y’shtola replied. “What might my life have been like had I pursued my studies here instead?”

“Tea at the Last Stand after a busy day of lectures?” Ascilia suggested, her forced smile giving way to genuine mirth.

“Oh, that does sound lovely,” Y’shtola chuckled. “Afternoons with friends spent sipping tea and debating theories…” Then just as suddenly, she sighed contentedly. “... Still, I wouldn’t give up my time with Master Matoya for the world. The dank cave I studied in was about as far from the bright, airy halls of academia as one could get. But it was a wondrous, magical childhood nonetheless.”

“I can’t help but feel a mite envious, hm hm,” she replied, softly chuckling as well. “But I think I understand. Perhaps my life might have turned out for the better had my father fled to Sharlayan rather than remain an informant for the Resistance. But Lhaminn would never have entered my life, nor would I have made so many friends amongst the Miner’s and Goldsmith’s Guilds. To say nothing of dearest Tataru.”

“And where would we be without her tireless aid?” Y’shtola asked, smiling. “For what it’s worth, you might well be able to enter the Studium as a student if you ask the right people. The man we’re visiting today is one of them, in fact.”

“I shall endeavor to keep that in mind.” Clearing her throat, Ascilia turned back towards the Studium’s entrance. “Let’s be off, shall we?”

“Mh, of course.” Stepping past Ascilia, Y’shtola glanced back at her as she offered her hand. “Come, we’ll be there in no time.”

As she followed Y’shtola into the halls of the Studium, Ascilia tried to keep her eyes on her friend. But with the warm and inviting lighting and the multitude of students, some children and others young adults, she couldn’t help but get the teensiest bit distracted. Most of the students adorned themselves in long-robed uniforms reflecting their status as budding young scholars, though rarely she spotted one or two going against the grain—wearing outfits befitting tradesmen or stylish personal attire.

The latter reminded her of something. During the week she’d spent readjusting to life among the living, she’d taken a gander within Lily’s pack. That such a tiny satchel could seem as big as a house on the inside was something of a marvel, and before they’d left she wasted no time in purchasing one for herself. But it was in this roomy place that she found Lily’s wardrobe, and within it a peculiar set of garments—a gift from Tataru, she surmised from Lily’s reluctance to be rid of them despite finding them embarrassing.

Seeing such similar outfits here in Sharlayan, she couldn’t help but imagine Lily dressed in them. That black dress shirt and adorable silk ribbon, the stark contrasting white jacket, the alluring combination of a pencil skirt and matching stockings, and those… rather large shoes…

They couldn’t all be winners, she mused. Perhaps she could find a nice pair of high heeled boots—

Suddenly, she found herself pressed into Y’shtola’s back as she stopped in her tracks. It seemed they’d arrived within some sort of classroom.

“Ah, visitors!” came the voice of an elderly man. As she pulled away from Y’shtola and brushed herself off, Ascilia caught sight of the source, an Elezen garbed in the familiar robes of the Forum. “And quite esteemed ones at that. What may I do for you?”

“‘Tis good to see you again, Scholarch,” Y’shtola began, bowing her head ever so slightly. “We were hoping you might help us secure permission to enter Noumenon’s restricted archives.”

“Oho!” Montichaigne laughed, crossing his arms. “No more furtive forays into the stacks this time, eh?”

As she watched Y’shtola shrug her shoulders, her expression one of bemusement, Ascilia couldn’t help but feel the same way. “That was G’raha’s ill-fated endeavor, yes? I hope it didn’t cause too much trouble for you, hm hm.”

“He caused quite a stir among my peers at the time, but with all that’s happened since few would hold such troubling past behavior against him.” Turning back to Y’shtola, Montichaigne continued on. “Well I for one applaud this newfound sense of propriety. Yet in all this wide world of comparative serenity, what compels you to disturb a vault of forbidden wisdom?”

“I would love to keep this simple, and simply state why,” said Ascilia as he glanced her way. “But I’m afraid our aims are rather complicated…”

“Then perhaps we should start with our goal,” Y’shtola added. “A method of widening planar fissures through the use of an artificial voidsent was discovered by Thavnair’s own House Daemir. They submitted the details of this method to Sharlayan, and I mean to uncover it.”

“Fascinating!” Montichaigne exclaimed, though his tone seemed a touch incredulous. “I had no idea such a technique existed.”

“I would’ve been surprised if you had,” Y’shtola replied. “House Daemir’s research has lain dormant in the archives for centuries.”

Scholarch Montichaigne narrowed his eyes, and tilted his head. It seemed to Ascilia that he was convinced, though something still troubled him. “And if you unearth this research, what then? Surely you don’t intend to cross over into the void?”

“That is, in fact, precisely what I intend,” said Y’shtola, pointed in her choice of words.

And yet, understandably yet frustratingly, Montichaigne continued his questioning. “... To what end, pray tell?”

“To develop a method of traversing the rift,” Y’shtola began, “that I might keep my word to a distant friend.” She paused for a moment, as if considering whether to go into greater detail. But while she would’ve been pleased to hear more of this ‘distant friend’, what Y’shtola said next was a rather happy surprise. “Sentiment aside, I have journeyed to the end of existence. I have heard, felt, and thought endlessly about the truth of our world and the echo of its future. And yet I want to understand everything—to unravel it all down to its very last secret.”

In all the years since they’d first met, Ascilia couldn’t imagine Y’shtola Rhul any other way. Relentlessly she marched forward to the beat of her own drum, both in service to the Circle of Knowing and the Scions’ goals, and to satisfy her own boundless curiosity. And though she ruffled the feathers of several important figures along the way, never did she allow this to so much as slow her down.

To see just how little she’d changed after all this time was certainly a touch surprising. But Ascilia found it pleasing regardless.

“... And what scholar worthy of the name wouldn’t crack open a voidgate,” Y’shtola began to ask, “if a grand revelation was the promised reward?” 

Ascilia couldn’t help but snicker, raising a hand to her mouth to stifle anything louder. ‘Twould be inappropriate otherwise, or so she felt.

Scholarch Montichaigne, however, showed no such restraint with his own amusement, his hearty laughter echoing through the hall. “Hahaha! Marvelous! An audacious proposal worthy of Master Matoya herself! And after hearing the whys and the wherefores, I for one do not believe you would use the knowledge for ill.”

“... Then will you present our request to the Forum?” Ascilia asked.

“I see no reason not to,” Montichaigne replied, earning a smile from Y’shtola and herself. But then he folded his arms in front of his chest, then raised one to his chin. “... Although… Your petition would be better received if you also had the support of another well-placed acquaintance.”

“If nothing else, it couldn’t hurt,” said Ascilia, glancing over to Y’shtola. “Pity you couldn’t grab the attention of another Forum member.”

“There is… one... other accessible candidate,” Y’shtola replied in a reluctant tone. “Though I am hesitant to approach him directly, having Master Fourchenault on our side would certainly tip the balance in our favor.”

“Precisely!” Montichaigne exclaimed. “He can hardly ignore an earnest request from his dear children’s most treasured companions.”

Ascilia lowered her head. “Alphinaud and Alisaie’s father…”

In the time she spent readjusting to life among the living, Ascilia had visited the Leveilleur Estate just once alongside Lily. They’d been invited to tea with Ameliance, and though her beloved seemed uncomfortable with the idea, they’d all had a rather pleasant time that afternoon. But Fourchenault had not been present—for reasons pertaining to the Loporrits and the emergence of a Blasphemy, it seemed he’d gone on a journey to Garlemald the day before.

“... Suppose now is as good a time as any to introduce myself to him,” she said at last. “Shall we make our way to the Leveilleur Estate, Shtola?”

“Very well,” Y’shtola replied, before bowing her head to Montichaigne. “Thank you for your cooperation, Scholarch. Good day.”

Before either of them could so much as turn to leave, however, Montichaigne raised a hand in protest. “Ah, one last thing before you go. I would consider it a personal favor if you might share with me the discoveries you make in the void. My appetite for knowledge is every bit as insatiable as yours, I’d wager, so if you could see your way to indulging an old man’s curiosity…?”

“Of course, Scholarch,” Y’shtola beamed. “I will be sure to pass on any revelations.”

Leaving Scholarch Montichaigne to his work, the two departed from the Studium. As soon as they were greeted by the sunlit morning sky, Y’shtola pulled Ascilia aside, her eyebrow arched as she spoke. “Our request to the Forum, Ascilia?”

“I am doing this alongside you, am I not?” Ascilia asked, her lips curling into a smile. “And did I not say I approved of this endeavor the night before? Even should my beloved choose to stay her hand, know that I will walk with you.”

“Until I have disappeared through the gate—” Y’shtola began.

“Until we have returned triumphant,” Ascilia declared, cutting her off. “We are in this together, Shtola. Of this you have my word.”

“... Well. Far be it for me to doubt you,” said Y’shtola, her expression softening. “But I fear it will be difficult to keep that a secret from Lily. And I’ve not known her to ever change her mind on anything… at least, not in my own company.”

“I believe she will come around,” Ascilia suggested. “If not today, then certainly by the time the voidgate is ready.”

In truth she was anything but certain. But having been reunited with her older sister after nigh half a century apart, Ascilia suspected that Vrtra’s plight had begun to weigh heavily upon Galbana Lily. It was only a question then of whether she could get over the initial hurdle of Azdaja’s unlikely survival, as Ascilia herself had done.

“We shall see,” Y’shtola replied, shaking her head. “Forgive me for doubting you, Ascilia. Shall we be off? The Leveilleur Estate is not too far away, but we’ve precious little time before the Forum reconvenes this morning.”

“Of course,” Ascilia beamed. “Lead the way.”

***

It was a little more than one bell after noon when Lily arrived in Radz-at-Han, appearing within the aetheryte plaza in a flash of blue light. Though the rains had ceased, the sky above was still somewhat cloudy. The market streets of Radz-at-Han were largely sheltered from inclement weather. But if the storms returned, perhaps she could hurry along on her daily chores and find someplace cozy and warm to watch them.

Putting aside such thoughts as she moved forward, Lily reached up to activate her linkpearl. “Ascilia? Can you hear me?”

It was close to a minute before she got a response, her linkpearl crackling to life with the sound of her beloved’s voice. “‘Tis good to hear from you, love. I’m afraid we’re not quite finished here, however.”

“What seems to be the holdup?” she asked, leaning her back against a nearby wall.

“We’ve gotten the approval of Master Fourchenault and Scholarch Montichaigne,” said Ascilia. “But we’re waiting for a response from the Forum before we make our move. If we’re denied access to the restricted archives—”

“You’ll find a way, I’m sure of it,” Lily cut her short, thinking back to the mischief she and her friends had gotten up to in their first day in Sharlayan. “If nothing else, Y’shtola could probably smuggle you in as a frog or something.”

“As a… frog?” Lily’s linkpearl went quiet for many seconds, and when it crackled to life again, she could hear Ascilia stifling her laughter. “Hm hm hm, well… I suppose if it comes to that, I wouldn’t mind enduring a little transformation. You’d do much the same, after all, wouldn’t you?”

“That’s… right?” All of a sudden, Lily felt a chill in the air. “What exactly are you planning?”

“You worry too much, hm hm,” came the voice of Ascilia. “Ah, I’ve got to go. Shtola wishes to check out the curiosities in the marketplace. We should have an answer within an hour or two—see you then, my galbana lily!”

After a stifled, nervous laugh, Lily lowered her head and sighed. “I am going to regret mentioning that, aren’t I…?”

“Regret mentioning what, exactly?”

Turning aside, Lily caught sight of a red-haired Viera—her older sister, Rubedo. She was dressed today like any other Thavnairian, wearing a comfortable looking indigo blue sari and a pair of simple sandals. In her hands there was a large intricately woven basket full of fresh fruit and vegetables, some small glass jars containing cooking spices, and a few bundles of colorful clothing.

“Good afternoon, Ruby,” Lily said, smiling warmly at her sister. “It’s nothing worth mentioning, really. I was just catching up with Ascilia.”

“... I see.” Between the hesitance in her voice and the way her eyes flitted about, it seemed to Lily that Rubedo was worried someone might overhear them. Even after she settled down, when she next spoke, it was in a hushed and conspiratorial tone. “Must your friend continue this pursuit? Is there nothing you can say to deter her?”

“If you mean Y’shtola, I’m afraid not. Once she’s committed herself, it’d take moving mountains to get her to budge.” It was a quality she had in common with someone else, Lily knew. She could only hope this business with the Void would not prove similarly disastrous. “... Would it set your mind at ease if I accompanied her? I’m something of a seasoned veteran in these matters.”

“Far from it, dear sister. I…” As she trailed off, Rubedo lowered her eyes to the basket resting between her hands. “... Memories of the past still haunt me, I fear. I have lost much in these past few years. I do not wish to lose you too.”

“Tell me about it,” said Lily, stepping in close to rest her hand upon her sister’s shoulder. “All your joy, and your sorrow. Everything you’ve been up to since we last saw each other. I’d love to hear it, Krjn.”

“... Perhaps another time” Rubedo suggested, her gaze drifting towards Lily’s outstretched arm. “For now I am shopping for foodstuffs with Mihleel. Aside from restocking our pantry, she hopes to invite her beloved for dinner tonight.”

Something about the abrupt change of topic raised a warning bell in Lily’s mind. If there was anyone Rubedo could confide in, wouldn’t it be her own flesh and blood? But for now it seemed best to respect her wishes, and so she let it slide. “That sounds like a pleasant evening, but I’m a bit confused. You… live with Mihleel?”

“Ah!” Rubedo gasped, barely avoiding dropping her basket. Breathing a sigh of relief as she steadied herself, she looked up to her sister and gave a sheepish smile. “I forgot to mention that last night, didn’t I…? But yes. Mihleel… in a manner of speaking, she ‘adopted’ me. I’ve lived with her since… well, not since, but…”

“Take your time,” Lily instructed her, keeping her tone soothing. “It’ll be easier if you compose yourself first.”

As Rubedo sat down near the wall, setting her basket beside her and taking several deep breaths, Lily caught a glimpse of the aforementioned Au Ra entering the plaza through the market streets. Like her apparent housemate she’d taken to wearing a sari, this one a cool green complementing her white horns and contrasting nicely with her reddish eyes. And just as Rubedo had with her a basket, so too did Mihleel. Though from here it looked as if she still had plenty of room in hers.

Turning her head this way and that, she caught sight of the sisters and hurried over to them. “There you are, Ruby! Take my eyes off of you for one moment and you disappear, I swear! Oh, and good afternoon, Lily! What good fortune, running into you here of all places!”

Watching as her sister gasped and swiveled her head to stare up at Mihleel, Lily couldn’t help but snicker. They really were just like a pair of siblings, she mused. “Good afternoon, Mihly. Were the two of you looking for me?”

“Not necessarily—” Rubedo began, only to quiet down as Mihleel began talking over her.

“Not looking for you, per se!” Mihleel answered with a nod. “But Ruby and I were talking about today’s shopping last night, and we thought it’d be nice if we invited you to join us!” Then, bracing her basket beneath one arm, she slipped the other up to her chin and tilted her head, her eyes drifting up and down Lily’s statuesque form. “Oh, but look at you, cutting a tall dark and heroic figure. I can’t imagine you dressed up like that just for a little shopping, did you?”

With a heavy sigh, Rubedo rose to her feet. “It is as my sist—as Mihleel says. Thus far we’ve mostly purchased provisions, and picked up my orders from a local tailor. We were supposed to head to the next street over to look at cosmetics, but she must have gotten distracted. Then I overheard you talking to Ascilia on your linkpearl…”

“Oh, you were calling Ascilia?” Mihleel asked immediately, then kept on going before Lily could so much as open her mouth to answer. “Mh, no wonder you’re dressed like that. The two of you must be gearing up for a brand new adventure.”

“... Something like that, eheh,” Lily laughed nervously.

The people of Thavnair deserved to be informed if something was amiss. That it would incite panic was a necessary evil to ensure their safety. Yet with both Ascilia and herself on hand to protect them, it seemed unlikely that the situation with the voidgate would grow out of hand. As such it seemed prudent to keep the whole thing under her hat, as it were.

And so, pushing the matter aside, she honed in on Mihleel and Rubedo’s activities instead. “I’ve got plenty of time before she and I meet up, however. And you said you were looking into cosmetics, right?”

“That’s right!” Mihleel beamed. “Since you’re not busy, would you care to join us?”

“If it’s not an imposition, I’d love to,” she replied, returning her attention to Rubedo. “What do you say, Ruby? Up for a little downtime with your sister?”

As she turned and glanced between Mihleel and Lily, Rubedo sighed one final time, her shoulders growing lax with relief. “... I don’t see why not. Perhaps we could double back to the tailor, and see about getting you something nice to wear about town. If you’ve the gil for it, you might be able to afford a high quality sari.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea!” said Mihleel, slipping around Rubedo to examine Lily’s face. “Do you mind a suggestion? I think green would be very nice on you. Or blue, like Ruby here—no wait, pink! Pink is definitely your color.”

“Why those colors and not black?” Lily asked, feeling a tinge dismayed. “I look great in black, don’t I?”

“Mh, of course you do,” Mihleel placated her. “But I was just thinking you might like to expand your horizons. What do you think, Ruby?”

Rubedo, seemingly having regained her composure, took to examining Lily as well. “... Pink or green would look best on her, I believe.”

“Seems I’m outvoted two to one,” said Lily, rolling her eyes with a quiet laugh. “Though I'd like as not go with black anyways. Or red.”

“Oh no, not red,” Mihleel insisted, wagging her finger. “I mean, you’d look lovely, of course. But unless you plan on getting married anytime soon—”

“Well, now that you mention it,” Lily began, producing a simple silver ring adorned with a small amber cat’s eye from one of her hidden pockets, “I’m hoping to make such a proposal today—to Ascilia, in fact.”

Both Mihleel and Rubedo fell silent at once, looking at her with a mix of surprise and awe. Much to Lily’s surprise, it was Rubedo who first broke the silence. “Pray forgive me, sister. I did not realize, I mean, that you and her… a-are you certain of this?”

“I am, yes,” Lily replied, her tone even.

“That’s… wonderful, sister. Truly wonderful.” Glancing over to Mihleel, Rubedo gave a faint smile. “Mihly? A-are you—”

“A wedding!” Mihleel practically shouted, her voice cracking as she drew the attention of onlookers to the trio. Immediately after she set her basket down and, cupping a hand beside her mouth, began to whisper. “You’re really getting married! I-I mean, if she accepts, of course! But wow, this is just so exciting I can barely contain myself! I, I, we, you—”

“Mihly?” said Rubedo, looking worried for her.

“Mihly?” said Lily, feeling worried for herself.

“You’re coming with us, Lily!” Mihleel suddenly exclaimed. “We’re going to get you dolled up for this, I promise! No expenses spared!”

“Our salaries are… generous, Mihleel, but can we really afford that?” Rubedo asked, seemingly baffled by the Auri’s outburst.

“I might be able to,” said Lily, though in truth any splurging would make living day to day in the near future difficult. “But is this really necessary?”

“Mh, of course it is,” Mihleel affirmed, patting her and Rubedo on the shoulders. “Trust me, you’ll not regret this one bit!” Then, after dipping down to snatch up her basket, she sprung up and grinned. “Come home with us first, though. Once we’ve dropped off our foodstuffs, we’ll be all set to help you get ready for your big evening!”

Don’t I get a say in this? Lily had tried to ask, but Mihleel was already hurrying off just as she opened her mouth. “... Hells take me, that girl’s got more spring in her step than a magitek reaper.”

“... She can... be like that, yes,” said Rubedo, looking a little more nettled than usual. “Once she has decided on something, it would be easier to move mountains than to convince her to change her mind. I am… sorry that I did not try harder.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that,” Lily reassured her. “Who knows? Maybe this’ll be fun.”

“... Maybe you’re right… Even so, I—”

“If you want to make it up to me,” Lily began, slipping around to her sister’s side, “then let’s leave Mihly to her date tonight and catch up on each other’s lives instead. We’ve got plenty of ground to cover, after all.”

“I don’t think—” Rubedo began, only to cut herself short. “... Would you not prefer to spend that evening with your bride to be?”

“We’re not getting married yet,” said Lily, shrugging her shoulders. “But I don’t think she’d mind the extra company.”

“Is that so…?” Though she shook her and fell silent, after a moment Rubedo gave a faint smile. “... Seems I can’t say no to either of you, Ktjn.”

“Thank you!” Lily exclaimed, leaning in to kiss her sister on the cheek. Turning aside, she scanned the plaza for Mihleel, only to find no trace of her. “... Damn, she moves quickly for such a small girl.”

“That she does,” Rubedo sighed, stopping beside Lily to rest her head upon her shoulders for a moment before moving past her. “Follow me, then.”

As Rubedo departed, Lily walked behind her, keeping pace with her older sister. And though this was an unexpected detour on today’s itinerary, in truth she was rather glad to have had this encounter. More than simply having another chance to reunite with her sister, it afforded her a sense of something that seemed altogether absent in her long, storied life.

A feeling of belonging, in a place that had once turned its back on her.

***

After roughly an hour of browsing Sharlayan’s markets, Ascilia and Y’shtola retired to the Baldesion Annex, waiting patiently for word from their allies in the Forum. While her Archon friend busied herself with a spot of reading, Ascilia had taken to removing a familiar dagger from her pack and began what she considered routine maintenance.

Polishing it to a mirror sheen, she stared into her reflection and smiled warily. The girl in the reflection seemed to be smiling back—as she ought to have been, of course. If her reflection hadn’t been smiling, it’d almost certainly mean she was being haunted.

Setting the dagger aside for a moment, Ascilia reached back into her pack, producing a small bottle of perfume. And as she diligently began to apply it to her treasured dagger, she caught sight of Y’shtola’s nose twitching.

“... Must you do that?” asked Y’shtola, sniffing the air. “The smell is pleasant, at least, but what purpose does it serve?”

“Do you truly wish to know?” Ascilia asked back, smiling innocently as she sheathed the dagger.

“... No,” Y’shtola answered, shaking her head in dismay. “I merely hope it is nothing… unsanitary.”

“Hm hm, don’t be silly, Shtola,” she began, attaching the dagger’s sheathe to her belt. “If that were the case, I’d need to wash the hilt first.”

At this, Y’shtola said nothing. Instead she merely grumbled and returned to her reading. But it was not long after that the doors to the Baldesion Annex swung open, revealing the figures of Montichaigne and, to Ascilia’s surprise, Fourchenault.

“That was rather quick,” she whispered to herself, before putting on her best diplomatic face. “Welcome, Scholarch Montichaigne, Master Fourchenault. ‘Tis our pleasure to see you again.”

“Indeed,” said Y’shtola, returning her tome to the bookshelf behind her. “So. What did the Forum decide?”

“To put it bluntly,” Montichaigne began, looking somewhat distressed as she spoke, “Master Matoya has burned some bridges here in Sharlayan—and salted the earth for good measure. When it became clear that her student was the petitioner in question, well, no few members voiced their discontent…”

“Not a wholly unexpected outcome,” said Y’shtola, her tone even. “But I cannot imagine they simply left it at that.”

“As you say. The chamber was reminded—in no uncertain terms, I might add—of the incredible debt we owe to you and your companions.” Glancing over his shoulder, Montichaigne exchanged a look with Fourchenault, who swiftly and suddenly turned to look away. Returning his attention to Y’shtola, he continued on. “That served to silence the grumbles and stiffen a few spines, and it was agreed that allowing you entry to the archives was the least we could do in return.”

Silently Y’shtola gasped, then turned to Fourchenault and bowed her head. When she spoke, it was with clear and utmost sincerity. “That is wonderful news. Thank you both for speaking on our behalf.”

“Yes, well…” Fourchenault seemed to mumble, before clearing his throat and straightening his back. “... As I am sure you are aware, this permission was not extended lightly. Forbidden knowledge is to be treated with the utmost caution, and there will be repercussions if it is not.” Then, without so much as stopping to take a breath, he continued into an immediate farewell. “I wish you well in your endeavor, and bid you good day.”

As Fourchenault departed as swiftly as he spoke, the doors of the Annex shutting loudly once he was out of sight, Scholarch Montichaigne gave an audible sigh. “Ever the same, that one…”

“Uncompromising?” Ascilia asked rhetorically, narrowing her eyes. “And with a stick lodged deep—”

“Aye,” said Y’shtola, cutting her off before she said something thoroughly undiplomatic. “But that very stoicism is exactly what Sharlayan needed to guide it through not one, but two exoduses.”

“I daresay he could stand to loosen up regardless,” she replied, before giving a contented smile. “All things considered, however, this went rather well. We’ve access to the forbidden archives, and without having to turn ourselves into toads or any other sort of tomfoolery.”

“That wouldn’t have gotten you far at all, I’m afraid,” Montichaigne grinned. “The security in the archives is far less lax than that of Labyrinthos.”

Lowering her head, Y’shtola closed her eyes and laughed. “As a child, I dreamed up any number of schemes for getting my hands on those forbidden tomes… and now I can simply walk in through the door.” Glancing up at Ascilia, she beamed an almost childlike grin. “Our focus will be on finding House Daemir’s research notes, of course. But the thought of so much knowledge at my disposal has me… giddy, hm hm.”

“Far be it from me to say ‘no’ to a little extra credit,” Ascilia began, reaching up to tap her ear. “But we do have someone awaiting our return. And I’d like to get back to her before nightfall—in Thavnair, mind you.”

“Mh, right,” said Y’shtola, stifling a snicker. “But I doubt it will come to that. We have around four hours to browse at our leisure.”

“You’ll be heading directly to the archives from here, I presume?” Montichaigne asked.

“You presume correctly,” Ascilia answered.

“You’ll want to speak with the index page when you arrive,” he informed them. “It’s been instructed to grant you access to the restricted section.”

“Excellent,” Y’shtola beamed, clasping her hands together in clear, if restrained excitement. “Once again, we thank you for all your help.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure, believe me.” After bowing his head, he waved the pair away. “Off you go, then. May you find the knowledge you seek!”

As the Scholarch departed ahead of them, Ascilia turned to Y’shtola and shrugged her shoulders. “You know, I really wouldn’t have minded trying that ‘toad’ thing. You wouldn’t happen to be able to teach me that spell, could you? And must the form always be, well, a frog?”

“I can,” Y’shtola replied, raising an eyebrow. “And no, the form the recipient takes is truly limited only by one’s imagination and power. But… why?” Then, without warning, she suddenly laughed. “Since when were you this much of a prankster, Ascilia?”

“What’s living without a little harmless fun here and there?” Ascilia asked, snickering. “Ah well. Some other time, perhaps. Shall we be off?”

“Yes, let's,” Y’shtola grinned as she made her way towards the entrance of the annex. “We’ve tarried enough, I think.”