Grandaughter of Argos—Garmr
The bitter chill of the sea’s winds bit at Rubedo’s exposed neck and chin as she and her erstwhile allies ascended towards the roiling black cloudfront above the Tower of Zot. Thus far their journey had been nothing they couldn’t handle; Though she was their party’s weakest link by far, it had proven perhaps too easy to push through to the tower’s end.
Yet now, staring down at the ocean’s gray waves as they grew further and further away, she felt less at ease than she’d been from the start. Her and Mikoto’s life were hanging by the merest thread of faith—a pact Ascilia had made with their erstwhile foes, the Dream Stooges. If these demons, Moebius and Curlax, broke that pact here and now, there was little she could do to avoid plummeting to a painful ejection from this dreamscape.
It reminded her of a childhood parable—that of a scorpion and a frog looking to cross a river. Her father once asked her what the parable’s lesson was. After giving it some thought, she came up with an answer of her own: Fear and desire can lead to senseless harm, both for one’s self and those around them. Though the scorpion had made a fool of itself, it was to be pitied, not scorned.
Her mind drifted to the handgonne holstered upon her belt. Her preferred catalyst enabled the paralysis, pacification, or even petrifaction of enemy combatants. If she was quick enough on the draw, then even in the worst case scenario she could always take at least one of these demons down with her. And while she would merely return to her own body, the enemy would be sent back to the Void they came from. In that sense, perhaps the scorpion wasn’t so foolish after all…
“You seem a little tense,” said Curlax, looking down at her. “Still don’t trust us, I guess.”
“And why should that concern you?” she coldly replied.
“Oh, I don’t know, you could shoot me?” the sprite fired back. “I know what that little magic club of yours can do.”
“Magic club…? Ah.” Her handgonne. These sprites had been watching their ascent, after all. “... Are you afraid I might turn it upon you?”
“Of course I am!” Curlax shrilled, their body wobbling through the air as they began to argue with her. “It’s not like I’m a dragon anymore—I can’t just shrug off something like that! Shooting me now would be a one way trip back to the Void!”
“What’re you shrieking about?” asked Moebius, fluttering over to the pair.
Sharing a glance with Mikoto, dangling in the golden sprite’s arms, Rubedo rolled her eyes in frustration. “Your friend is worried I’ll shoot them.”
“I don’t believe she would do such a thing,” Mikoto added calmly. “Ascilia and Lily would have a difficult time saving Ahewann without our aid, and we can’t reach the summit ahead without your support.”
“Yeah, well, but, I mean...” Curlax stammered, slowing to a crawl. “I-I just… it’s been thousands of years since I was myself, you know? I don’t want to lose that to a little bunny and her itchy finger. Or any of your friends, for that matter.”
“I don’t want to kill you,” Rubedo began. Before she could continue, however, she caught sight of something moving upon the cliff wall. At first she’d simply dismissed it as an illusion, or perhaps a rock slide. But as she focused on a waterfall running down into the sea below, she caught sight of a shaggy golden mound. “... What in the heavens is that golden thing?”
“What’s what thing?” asked Curlax, looking down at her and following her line of sight to the mound. “... Um. That’s—”
Without warning, the mound suddenly shifted, firing a beam of golden light in their direction. Though it narrowly missed, Curlax spun into a panic, spiraling through the air as they evaded the sudden attack. A second and third beam burst into existence from elsewhere on the cliff, aimed both where they had been and where they were going. In one moment they came to a sudden stop, flinging Rubedo up into the air. And in the next the beams converged upon them, the tiny sprite disappearing from sight altogether.
As she soared upward, Rubedo contrived to twist her body about, keeping her eyes on the cliff as the beams vanished from sight. There were three mounds—two small, one large—scurrying up the cliff into the blackened clouds above. It was too late to try and stop any of them, and she was too far from the cliff for her handgonne to be effective regardless.
Her ascent swiftly slowly to a crawl, but before she could begin falling again, a red light flashed into view before her and gripped her by her shirt. The light faded as it took the shape of Curlax, now as diminutive to her as they’d been from the start, clinging tightly with tiny hands to her as they furiously fluttered their wings, gritting their teeth in a futile attempt to carry her.
Staring in bewilderment at him, she cocked an eyebrow. “... Curlax? Why did you—”
“Can’t talk!” they grunted, steadily losing altitude by ilms and fulms. “Moebius, help!”
“Make yourself big again!” Moebius shouted at them, speeding down alongside them as their eyes flitted between the pair and Mikoto.
“Hold them beside me,” Mikoto suggested, raising her voice as the wind began to whip up around them. “I don’t mind—”
“I’ve got them,” came the voice of Ascilia, Rubedo’s descent slowing to a crawl before she gently landed in the woman’s open palm. With Curlax coming to rest on her stomach, Rubedo craned her neck back to look her grinning savior in the eye. “That was quite a frightful light show. Are the two of you alright?”
“I’ll… I’ll be fine,” she replied, lowering her gaze until her sister Lily came into view. Ascilia was holding her in the opposite hand, her face buried between her thumb and forefinger, appearing to be asleep. Her gaze next fell upon Curlax, who had finally managed to catch their breath. “Curlax. What happened just now? What attacked us?”
“Huh?” Perking their head up, Curlax breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks for the catch, new boss.”
“‘Twas my pleasure, hm hm,” Ascilia giggled. “But I believe little Rubedo asked you a question.”
“I can answer that,” Laragorn huffed as they came to a halt near their merry band of six. “Hells, but you fly quickly… anyways. When we crossed over from the Void, we had to shed the bodies Bea granted us to fit through the portal. Two others joined us—Garmr and the boss, Alastor. Like us, they used to be… different in the past.”
“Different… how?” asked Rubedo. “And which one attacked us?”
As they flew off of her chest and spun in the air, Curlax enlarged themself to their original size. “We used to inhabit the body of a dragon—five heads, one for each of us, courtesy of a pact with a man from your world. Xan Day... or something like that.”
“Garmr was a golden hound,” Moebius added, shifting their arms uneasily as they moved Mikoto enough to let her sit in their arms. “It’s been a long, long time since she looked like that, though, and all I remember about her are rumors—she was the pet of a warrior clad in darkness, allegedly. I think they were called… Goldbartz?”
“Golbez,” Laragorn corrected them. “As for the boss—the old one, I mean—he used to be a king, if you can believe it. Alastor von Muir, they called him. I’ve never seen the ‘real’ him, though. Even in this place, he’s not so different from the big ol’ eye we knew him as. Ungarmax, or Airy Man... Angra Mainyu, maybe?” With a shrug of their shoulders and a shake of their head, they continued on. “He’s changed the most, really. Took on a new form to break this vessel’s spirit. If you’d like to talk tactics—”
“Perhaps it would be best if we did so after reaching the summit,” Mikoto chimed in, her eyes fixated on the cliff. “Our foes have already attacked us once, and not a single one of us is in a position to defend themselves, let alone fight back.”
“Mikoto has the right of it,” Ascilia declared. As she looked down at Lily before shifting her attention to Rubedo, the latter couldn’t help but catch a soft, stifled giggle from her. “Ruby, do you mind if I…”
“By all means,” she replied, grabbing onto the edges of Ascilia’s gauntlet. “The sooner we’re on solid ground, the better.”
***
Ascending through the pitch black cloudfront, her beloved Lily and her sister Rubedo in hand and the Dream Stooges close behind, Ascilia broke through to the other side. She had expected to see an unusual skyline—filled perhaps with living constellations or falling stars. But what she witnessed as she crossed that threshold sank her heart.
A great sea mirroring the one below churned high above crumbling Radz-at-Han, glinting starlight piercing through its deep blue depths. Garlean warships the likes of which she’d never seen floated upon the water’s edge, raining mortar and aether upon the city’s broken walls and shattered buildings. A massive offwhite airship was docked at the city’s landing—this she recognized from Lily’s past tales as the Dalriada, the flagship of the IVth Legion. That it was here made it clear as crystal who the soldiers within the tower had been.
And yet despite the overwhelming presence of their unusual armada, there were no signs whatsoever of soldiers. Nor Thavnair’s own people, for that matter. It seemed Mikoto’s hypothesis was right—every figment they’d encountered was a product of Ahewann’s mind. And with every last one of them dispatched to slow her party down, the city was surely empty.
The purpose of the bombardment was clear. To watch the sum of one’s existence be obliterated would strain the limits of anyone’s spirit. Under most circumstances this would end with the victim ceding their body and soul as vessel and sustenance to the voidsent, or worse: transforming into a voidsent themselves. But with Zodiark’s demise and the lingering effects of the Song of Oblivion, the fate of both host and parasite would become far bleaker.
As Ascilia set foot upon the bridge leading into the city, several hair-raising howls reverberated up from below. There was no time for chatter, for the beast Garmr would soon be upon them. Setting Lily and her sister down beside her feet, she strode forward several paces, then turned and kneeled down before them. Once the Dream Stooges joined her and Mikoto had been set down beside the pair of bantam bunnies, she began to channel her aether.
“May this blessing ease the weight of your burdens,” she incanted, holding out her hands before them. “Esunaga!”
One by one, her allies began to grow back to their true size. First was Lily, who stumbled over to the edge of the bridge, burying her face in her hands. Mikoto swiftly rushed to her side, patting her on the back and asking if she was alright. Finally, Rubedo stood before her, drawing her firearm and adjusting her visor.
“Thank goodness that’s over with,” she intoned, glancing over her shoulder at the Dream Stooges. “Will you three join us in battle?”
“A-against the m-mutt?” Curlax stuttered. “You saw what she can do!”
“We, um, might come up a little short,” Moebius groaned. “I mean, we do have our magicks…”
“Would you mind if we hung back?” asked Laragorn. “We’ll support you from afar!”
“Any help you can offer would be appreciated,” Ascilia answered, flashing a warm smile.
As her beloved Lily shook off her embarrassment and she and Mikoto armed themselves, Ascilia firmly gripped the hilt of her own blade. Beneath her feet she felt the stone beneath her tremble and heard the scratching and clawing of a dozen legs. Spinning about as she stood up, she caught sight of not one, but three towering figures rising up from beneath the bridge, barring their path.
Each of these beasts was roughly the size of an aurochs or marid, and though their shaggy golden fur marked them as a some large breed of dog, their gangly forelimbs bore greater resemblance to those of a man than a hound. Despite that, something about the creatures seemed familiar to Ascilia. And for a moment she wondered how there could be three of them when by her reckoning there was only one Garmr.
Both questions answered themselves shortly thereafter as two of the hounds sank their teeth into the flanks of the third. With a sharp yelp, the middle beast reared up onto its hind legs, and the two attackers transformed into light as they melded together. Once the three had become one, it reached up and manifested a one-handed onyx blade, then assumed a fighting stance Ascilia had seen only through Hydaelyn’s eyes.
“Not what I expected when they called her a ‘hound’,” Rubedo noted with an air of confusion. “Nor of a voidsent, for that matter.”
“She is rather… intimidating,” Ascilia admitted, glancing over to Lily and Mikoto as she took up her chakrams. “Lily, love, are you ready? We need someone to take point. And Mikoto, do you think you’ll be safe in the rear?”
“... Doubt I’d ever be ready for this,” Lily answered, gritting her teeth as she strode forward, greatsword at the ready.
“Be mindful of our surroundings,” Mikoto cautioned them as she took her place beside Rubedo. “Wide as the bridge may be, there is nothing below but...“ As the Auri Archon trailed off, Ascilia couldn’t help feel her gaze upon the back of her neck. “Is aught amiss, Ascilia? You and Lily seem… distracted.”
“Perhaps I am feeling a touch… nostalgic,” Ascilia confessed with a sigh. “Seems she’s content to hold the bridge—we shall have to strike first.”
Glancing back for only a moment, Lily flashed an inexplicable, bewildering grin, “Works for me!”
With a fierce battle cry she lunged through the air at Garmr, a violet-red aura coalescing about her as she bore her blade down upon their foe. The beast responded in kind, roaring as she blocked Lily’s assault before forcing her back to the ground with only her elongated swordarm. But rather than allow herself to be pinned down, Lily instead slid between Garmr’s legs, slashing at her back as she flipped up onto her feet. With a pained growl the beast took two steps forward before spinning about, her focus squarely upon the Viera warrior.
Seizing the moment, wordlessly Ascilia directed her party forward, then vaulted into the air. With a sharp flick of her wrists she sent her chakrams alight. Much to her surprise, a pair of Garmr clones emerged halfway from her target’s arched back in a glint of golden light, returning her chakrams with glancing strikes.
At the sight of such an illusive feat, her heart nearly sank. This was going to be a long fight.
***
Within the crumbling walls of Radz-at-Han, atop the burning ruins of Meghaduta, a towering man slouched upon a throne of rubble. Clad in armor forged from foreign steel and the scales of a greatwyrm, a sallow prism floating above his palm, he watched through its contours as the struggle between loyal Garmr and the Warrior of Light unfolded with a scowl.
“You seem displeased, yae Galvus,” came the defiant voice of Ahewann, so far beneath him. Leering down, he observed the infuriating confidence in his stern expression with utter disdain. “You have already brought ruin to Thavnair—what more could you possibly want?”
Alastor merely ignored him, focusing instead on Garmr’s battle. Like himself and the treacherous trio of sprites, the bestial might she once brought to bear as the Cloud of Darkness’s pet was long gone, taken from her by the selfsame warrior fighting her now. But despite their every advantage, still she managed to fend off their assault.
It wouldn’t be enough to subdue them, let alone cast them out. But it might buy him enough time.
“... Are those… adventurers?” Ahewann asked, narrowing his eyes at the prism. “To mount a rescue during a siege this terrible—”
His irritation having hit its limit, Alastor raised a steelclad boot and proceeded to grind Ahewann into the rubble, silencing him in an instant. It was too much to hope for an agonized scream, or even a pained groan. The man was at his limit—all it should have taken was one good push to finally break him. But try as he might, Ahewann remained resolute. Indeed, as he removed his foot from the hole he’d ground his prisoner into, he was clearly unharmed.
He grit his teeth. If he’d been quicker to push through that portal, then he would’ve been able to keep his body, pathetic as it was. Then, he would’ve been strong enough—no. No, if he’d done that, the Warrior of Light and her cohorts would have slain him in an instant. He would never have even gotten the chance to take cover in the body of that flesh puppet, hiding in the shadow of his immense soul, nor would he have been able to force his way into the mind of his current host.
Still, he couldn’t deny his anger. All this pomp and circumstance—staging an invasion of the man’s homeland—would be unnecessary if he were stronger. If he were stronger, he could devour Ahewann’s soul outright.
“You’re brooding again,” Ahewann noted, his steely eyes gleaming with determination. “Those adventurers will be but the first of many. They will—"
“They will bathe in a sea of fury and flame, drowning in the ashes of your people!” Alastor screamed, his face reddening in anger. “The Warrior of Light and her misbegotten ilk will die here, Ahewann! And you will bear witness to their dying gasp!” Then, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he let out a tremendous sigh. “I am the one in control here. Your resistance is meaningless. Do you not understand that? Nobody is going to save you, Ahewann. Not the Radiant Host. Not Vrtra—whom I have butchered, lest you’ve forgotten—and certainly not Galbana Lily!”
“Galbana Lily…?” Ahewann turned pale, his eyes widening in clear surprise. “That woman is Galbana Lily?”
Alastor furrowed his brow, then rose to his feet. Reaching down he plucked Ahewann from his bindings, clutching him tightly by the neck and effortlessly pulling him free from his shackles, that they might see face to face. “That this name gives you so much pause is… interesting. You will tell me everything you remember about her, Ahewann.”
Ahewann did not respond with words, but his fists, hammering them against Alastor’s steelclad arm. This accomplished little other than bruising and bloodying his own knuckles, and earned him a quick toss into the seat of the throne. As the mass of rubble coalesced around him, trapping him in place once more. Only then did he deign to speak, grunting his words between shallow breaths. “I will… tell you nothing , Varis. Not a word. My past… I take with me… to the grave…”
“Your resilience would be admirable were it not so vexing,” Alastor spat. Upon his forehead, the little white bead he knew to be a ‘Garlean third eye’ sank into the recesses of his flesh. “But you are sorely mistaken if you believe your mind remains your own.”
“What are you…” Ahewann began, only to fall silent, his expression shifting from one of defiance to abject horror at the growing slit in Alastor’s forehead. The skin peeled back, forming into a pair of dry, scaled eyelids, and a brilliant starry white light amidst the backdrop of a deep black-violet sclera stared back at him. “By the Sisters… what manner of fiend are you?”
“I am Varis yae Galvus,” Alastor insisted, lying through bestial teeth clenched in a vicious grin. “And you belong to me, body and soul. Look deep within your prison, little man. Through reflection, grant unto me what is rightly mine. Show me your past. Show me Galbana Lily.”
***
Dancing and dodging through a furious medley of slashing cuts from their towering golden adversary, Lily’s focus began to falter. There was something unnervingly calming about her foe. The way she moved, and the bearing of her sword arm, were so hauntingly familiar. And though under any other circumstances she might’ve been happy to fall into her usual trance, every glimpse of the hound’s toothy maw filled her with a terrible sense of deja vu. It seemed the beast was sizing her up—not as an opponent or partner, but as a piece of meat to be savored.
More annoyingly, it seemed their attacks were having little effect on their opponent. Whatever Garmr did not dodge she merely absorbed, shrugging off the conjured light and aetherically charged shots from Mikoto and Rubedo just as easily as she parried Lily’s blade and evaded her dark magicks and Ascilia’s chakrams. There were no openings in her defense, no opportunities to deal a mortal blow. And as a sudden earthquake caused the whole of Thavnair to shudder ominously, it was clear they were running out of time.
Just then, she caught a glimpse of light glimmering amidst the stygian sea overhead. Two falling stars—one a ball of flame, the other frigid ice—hurtled down towards the bridge. But they were much too far away to do any good. Indeed, by the time they’d neared their target, Garmr had already leapt to the opposite side of the bridge for safety, putting the rest of Lily’s party in danger.
As she rushed to their aid, Lily plunged her blade into the stonework below, unleashing a torrent of dark aether to shield them from harm. But rather than attack them, their voidsent foe instead raised their sword arm heavensward. Her body shimmered and split, a second dread hound leaping out of her into the air, propelled as if from a sling. Then, as she let out a mighty howl, a third emerged from within her maw, the pair barreling forward with vicious swipes of their claws.
Mikoto and Ascilia joined her in erecting their own protective wards, while Rubedo fell back behind them. As if in response, one of the Garmr clones slipped around their collective barrier, hammering it from behind with all her might. And though their defensive wall held firm, it was clear to Lily this was only a diversion. Her true targets were the Dream Stooges—hardly the most dangerous adversaries, or so she believed, but for what she’d gathered the beast had made a similar effort to take them out earlier.
“Rubedo, do you think you can take out our fleeing foe?” she asked, gritting her teeth as their barrier began to crack.
“Surely the two before us are the more pressing threat?” Rubedo suggested, even as she trained her handgonne skyward.
The cracks in their barrier began to spread as Lily planted her feet firmly on the ground. “Good point. Mikoto?”
“You wish for me to handle them both myself?” Raising a hand to her chin for a moment, Mikoto shook her head. “Perhaps we could split that duty betwixt ourselves? But even with your astral magicks and my command of the elements, I believe it goes without saying—”
“Then don’t say it,” Ascilia commanded, folding her hands together upon her chest. A golden aura began to spill out from within her, pouring over the whole of their party. “Have faith in yourselves, and all will be well.”
By now the skybound Garmr’s ascent had begun to slow, and their barrier had reached its limit. As it slowly began to crumple into aetheric dust around them. Lily reached out with her hand, drawing the disparate shards of their party’s spent aether into herself. Her body coursed with abyssal might, her body shadowed beneath an infernal violet aura as she charged forward. At the same time she felt a surge of roaring winds about them, and heard a loud gunshot and the booming crackle of thunder and lightning.
Rubedo’s handgonne. Mikoto’s conjury. Her abyssal magicks. And Ascilia’s Echo, empowering them beyond mortal limits.
In one moment, Garmr bore down upon Lily with claws like gleaming steel. In the next, she tore through the voidsent, emerging from the other side in a shower of violet sparks. Turning about on her heel, she caught sight of both clones of Garmr dissipating into clouds of aether. Far above the third copy had begun to descend rapidly towards the bridge, her golden fur turned gray as stone.
“Clear the way!” Lily commanded.
As the four of them rushed to safety near the crumpled gates of the city, their petrified foe crashed onto the bridge with an earth shaking thud and a long, sickening crack. But as she breathed a sigh of relief, Lily caught the looks of shock and confusion on her partners’ faces. Glancing over her shoulder, she couldn’t help but feel the same way.
Garmr’s petrifaction had worn off. The thousand, thousand pieces of her shattered remains squirming and twitching as they joined together, melting together into a beacon of golden light. From within the beacon emerged the dread hound, seemingly no worse for wear.
“... Placing the lives of those three above thine own is the height of foolishness,” she intoned, the deep timbre of her voice reverberating within Lily’s mind. “Yet I cannot deny thy strength. Nor am I inclined to continue this battle. Children of Hydaelyn, I would offer an accord.”
“She can… talk?” asked Rubedo, her mouth slightly agape. “And without moving her jaw, at that…”
“One of the more common manifestations of the Echo and its ability to manipulate aether,” Mikoto began to explain, motioning to Rubedo even as she kept her eyes on Garmr. “Through the proximity of our souls, those with the aforementioned ability can perceive the thoughts, feelings, and intent of others without need for physical speech.”
“That… sounds rather useful,” Rubedo remarked, slowly holstering her handgonne. “Do you suppose this is Garmr’s gift, then? Or is there some degree of overlap in the Echo’s utility when two or more bearers are gathered together?”
As Mikoto and Rubedo continued to discuss the Echo, Ascilia chiming in with her own knowledge from time to time, Lily’s gaze flitted between them all, their golden adversary, and finally her greatsword. In a place like this, she could recall it to her hand by will alone. And with Garmr’s guard down for a change, dealing a fatal blow would be trivial. Now that the battle had hit its climax, and that feeling of nostalgia she’d nearly embraced had fallen aside, it seemed the right course of action to her.
This was a voidsent, after all. It was hard to trust any of them, let alone one as capable as this.
“... What’re you offering?” she tentatively asked, motioning to her party for quiet.
“A gift once granted to my first master,” Garmr answered, casting aside her blade. “The power to conceive memoria.”
“Memoria?” Ascilia queried, stepping out ahead of the party. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with such a thing.”
“If I had to guess, memoria is probably a kind of auracite,” said Lily. “Used to trap the essence of primals, right?”
“An apt summary, though not exact. The essence of an eidolon—or primal—will disperse when defeated, returning to the star. But it is possible to seize this essence in the moment of death, and form with it a crystal brimming with power.” Reaching forward, she presented her waiting hand to Ascilia and Lily. “Come. I will grant the beginnings of this gift to one amongst thee. In return, I ask only that thou grant a simple request.”
Ascilia glanced back at Lily, offering a soft half-smile. With a heavy sigh, she acquiesced. “Alright. What’s your request?”
“Kill me,” Garmr requested, her tone hollow and fatigued. “Convert my soul into memoria, and deliver it unto the sea of souls.”
A pall of silence fell upon the party, punctuated by the sporadic cannonfire raining down upon the city behind them. It seemed all of them had been taken off-guard, and though Lily could only guess at their reasons why, hers was clear as night. Whether it took the form of sadistic lust or ravenous hunger, every voidsent she’d ever encountered had been driven by the desire for power. One way or another, their end was the same: to live, and to keep living.
“... I don’t—why do you want to die?” she found herself asking.
“In what feels no more than a dream long ended, I served the needs of my master, Golbez,” Garmr began, closing her eyes as she answered. “Through the millennia hence, a feral gluttony consuming my every thought, I persisted against mine wishes. A prisoner within mine own flesh. Hither am I granted only the slightest reprieve...”
“I think I understand,” said Ascilia, raising a hand to her heart. “I’ve been… there before. Bound to choices I’d not made myself, and… forced to live through the fallout. Though I can’t say I was never in control, and I did all I could to make the best of it… still I was a prisoner of fate.” Then, with a soft sigh and somber glance at Lily, she continued. “I won’t ask that you change your mind here and now. But would it be alright if I held onto your crystal for a time?”
“Ascilia…” Lily mumbled under her breath, shame burning beneath her skin.
“... Very well. Step forth, and receive of me the arte of the memoriate.” As Ascilia drew close to the towering hound, Garmr reached out for her. Extending an onyx nail, she gently pressed it to the woman’s forehead. “A fair warning. The history of this arte holds naught but reckless greed, shattered hopes, and senseless tragedy. Shouldst thou seeketh to bolster thy might with the souls of thine enemies, thou wilt surely meet the same end as those who walked before.”
“I feel as if our party is missing some context,” Mikoto began, only to be cut short by a second earthquake and the sound of roaring water. Craning her neck towards the sky, she audibly gasped, her eyes widening with surprise and fear. “O-oh my goodness! The sky, I mean, the sea…”
Peering up as well, Lily caught her first glimpse of what was surely to come. The garlean warships besieging the city had begun to collapse upon themselves, raining down as burning wreckage alongside countless twisting, raging streams near and far. Though the torrential downpour of water was thankfully clear of the city itself, there was no telling how much longer things would remain as such. And with the threat of crushing debris falling upon their heads, it seemed that the path forward was about to become that much more perilous.
But neither of these threats compared to what she saw all around her. Black and gray smoke, acrid as the once smoldering jungles of Thavnair, had begun to emerge within the ruined masonry before and beneath her. The land, this dreamworld, was beginning to unravel.
Rubedo’s nose crinkled beneath her visor. “This place seems more a nightmare with each passing moment.”
“Indeed,” Mikoto surmised. “Lily, Ascilia, I believe it would be in our best interests to hurry!”
“Go on ahead without me,” Ascilia declared, flashing them both a nervous smile from over her shoulder. “I won’t be long, I promise.”
But despite the urgency, Lily found herself unable to turn away from her. “We need to stick together, love! And besides, I can’t leave you here in the clutches of this beast! For all we know this whole spiel has been a means to waste our time—”
“The Dream Stooges, Alastor von Muir, and mineself are but allies of convenience,” Garmr interrupted, silencing her with an upraised palm. “Though time and toil hath worn the spirits of many, the Emperor of Damcyan is unchanging in his voracious ambition. He will make a blasphemy of the one called ‘Ahewann’...” As she trailed off, Garmr scanned their faces, her expression shifting to one of confusion and worry. “... Judging by thine expressions, such a fate would have calamitous consequences. Prithee, what difference doth exist betwixt ‘voidsent’ and ‘blasphemy’?”
“More than you realize,” answered Lily, shuddering at the thought of their imminent failure. There was no more time to drag their feet, she knew. And no more time to argue, for that matter. “Ascilia, we need—”
“I told you already,” Ascilia argued regardless. “Please, have faith in me, my love.”
Though she was beginning to get agitated with her beloved’s stubbornness, Lily acquiesced with a quiet nod. Then, turning to the remainder of her party, she dug out the stone of Azem and grasped it tightly. All about her, an intricate arcane circle erupted into existence, and within moments the Dream Stooges were hovering around her.
“You three, watch over Ascilia,” she ordered them. “Rubedo, Mikoto, we’re heading into the city.”
“Right,” Rubedo and Mikoto replied, brandishing their respective weapons.
“Oh!” Laragorn interjected. “Before you run off! We did a little scouting while you were chatting with the mutt!”
“The boss really armed himself to the teeth,” Curlax added. “Looks like he tore apart a dragon to do it. Kinda creepy, honestly.”
“Wonderful,” Lily groaned. No doubt the dragon in question was a facsimile of Vrtra. “Anything else?”
“He’s got a new stooge,” Moebius chimed in, looking somewhat nervous as he continued rattling off. “She’s, uh, the last of Ahewann’s mental defenses, I guess. Only she’s under the boss’s thrall, like all those soldiers and people were. And I… kinda… get the feeling you really won’t… uh… like her…”
“Who is she?” Lily asked.
“Well, um—”
“She’s, uh—”
“I don’t—”
“Out with it!” she demanded.
The Dream Stooges glanced at each other, grimacing as they finally gave their answer.
“She’s you.”