Ascilia, Scion of Light

As she entered the Founder’s Deck from the Dalriada’s loading dock, Rubedo scanned the area. Though she knew Ahewann was deeper within the airship’s bowels, some part of her hoped she would find him and his captor sooner. But there was no sign of any living creature, only a half-score of unpiloted magitek warmachina—Reapers, Predators, Helldivers, and even one of the Gabriel prototypes, its gilded alloy plating glistening in the deck’s low lighting.

A sense of dread creeped over her as she glared at the unmoving Gabriel, recalling the charges she’d heard had been laid at the feet of Sicinius mal Vellutus—the IVth Legion’s Senior Engineer, and the machine’s creator. The provisional government in control of Bozja claimed that he had used prisoners of war as test subjects, extensively modifying their bodies with magitek and brainwashing them to serve as pilots for his creations. This process had allegedly been dubbed ‘hypertuning’ by the man’s own mentor, while those within the Resistance cited various magitek monstrosities as proof of the inevitable ends of his research.

The matriarch Brunyasch had laughed it off. Of course they would levy such ridiculous claims against the man whose genius had laid low so many of their soldiers. But as rumors spread amongst their fellow deserters, and new voices lent credence to the claims through personal accounts, the charges became ironclad proof of the IVth Legion’s corruption and depravity.

“There’s no future for us here,” she’d told Rubedo that last night in Valnain. “Landis, Bozja, Dalmasca—they’ve no mercy left in their hearts. And why would they? If everything they say is true, our souls were damned long ago.”

Quelling the dread in her heart, she turned away. The matriarch had been wrong. Even if no one else in the world could forgive her, Galbana Lily—her sister, her own flesh and blood—had done so. More than that, she had given Rubedo hope that the same held true for others who’d been among her number. 

Deeper within she came across another peculiar room. At the far end stood a lengthy terminal adorned with lights and monitors—this was the Dalriada’s central security system, she reasoned. Approaching the terminal, she analyzed the various displays, using what little knowledge she had of such systems to determine what, if anything, she could do with it.

What she managed to find was the Dalriada’s internal layout, down to the finest detail. A product of her sister’s impeccable memory, or so she believed. Along with that, there were unusual readings in a hold much deeper within the airship, in a hold that apparently contained a powerful allagan relic. With this in mind Rubedo deactivated the terminal and glanced about the room, noting two paths leading towards the hold. Picking the one on the right, she marched forward.

Just as she entered the corridor beyond the Dalriada’s security powered on of its own accord, as if the airship itself had determined her to be an intruder. Three laser barricades erected themselves in the path between her and the deactivation mechanism in the room beyond. Two additional lasers, about the size of a magitek reaper’s aether cannon, began powering up. As there was no telling how long it would take for them to fire, she did the only sensible thing and pulled back, only to find that the corridor had sealed shut behind her.

Then, without hesitation, she threw herself down in the middle of the hallway, pressing herself as flat as possible to the cold metal floor.

She counted the seconds before the giant lasers fired, thanking the Sisters when they both narrowly missed her. Pulling herself to her feet, she assessed the situation. She’d counted to six, and though she suspected it would take longer for them to fire, it was better to play conservatively with her “life” on the line.

Rushing forward, she stopped just shy of the first laser barricade and hit the deck, then counted up from six. At eight seconds, the lasers fired—she’d been right. Swiftly getting to her feet, she deftly darted through the first barricade, covering half the distance to the next before hitting the ground again.

She repeated this process again with the second barricade, dropping down right as she exited it to safety, then again just before the third barricade. Finally, after slipping through it, she rushed to the exit and leapt inside. Therein she found two more terminals—the closer of the two was the command console that, from the layout she’d seen, would deactivate the Dalriada’s security.

Though there was no danger present in the room itself, Rubedo hurriedly entered the proper code. After a two second delay, however, the machine spat out an error. Thinking back over the schemata she’d seen, the opposite corridor ended in an identically sized room, which also appeared to serve the same purpose.

At this revelation, she silently swore. No doubt the rooms and their respective consoles were linked. Without someone on the other side to operate their console, access to the hold beyond was nigh impossible. Unless there was a vent she could crawl into, she was trapped.

Just as she began to scan the walls and ceiling, however, she heard a familiar voice over the Dalriada’s intercom. “You there, whomever you are. Follow my instructions. Activate your console on the count of three. One, two…”

A chill ran down Rubedo’s spine as she acquiesced, inputting the command as swiftly as she could. The door to her left immediately slid open, revealing the area ahead of her. On the opposite end she saw a similar looking door do the same, and out from the room beyond strode a figure wearing a pristine white suit of armor marking her as an Imperial Officer—armor that rightly belonged to the Witch of Dalmasca, not the woman wearing it now.

“Name and rank,” her sister’s doppelganger demanded, its face firm in its contempt.

Every creation of Ahewann’s mind they’d met thus far had attacked them on sight. That this one, bearing her own sister’s face, had not done so couldn’t be a coincidence. And so Rubedo stiffened her back and gave a proper salute. It was best to play along for now, or so she hoped.

“Rubedo kir Valnain!” she answered, loud and clear. “Senior Medicus of the IVth—”

“I know which legion you belong to, cur!” the doppelganger spat, coming within striking distance of her. “Gabranth and his mongrels have no place aboard the Dalriada any longer. On what grounds are you here? Answer me!”

Racing for a proper explanation, a thought occurred to Rubedo. All of Ahewann’s previous defenses had been subverted—turned against their master by the demon Alastor. Despite the clear and visible difference between them, they had all converged upon the Tower of Zot, silently impeding her party’s progress.

Yet this doppelganger was different. It was… passably the person it appeared to be, and remarkably reactive to its surroundings.

“Noah van Gabranth has heard of His Excellency Lord Varis’s ambitions,” she began, taking a rather bold risk. “Accordingly, he has dispatched yours truly to serve as an intermediary between the Ist and IVth Legions.”

“And why would he send you?” the doppelganger asked, narrowing its eyes. “Surely Menenius, that Bozjan spy, or Lyon—no, never mind. Just answer the question. The sooner you’re out of my hair, the sooner I can get back to our ‘guest’.”

“Perhaps my voice alone is not enough,” Rubedo suggested, removing her visor. “But makeup aside, surely you remember this face.”

With an audible gasp, the doppelganger stepped back, covering its mouth. “Krjn? What are you—how, why?!”

Rubedo took a moment to unpack that response. It knew her name, and knew the face that name belonged to. It also seemed disheartened to see her in uniform. More evidence supporting one of Mikoto’s observations—like the Tower of Zot’s presence and the macabre museum of her sister’s past, this creature was as much shaped by her party as it was a product of Ahewann’s mind.

Or at least, that was what she’d assumed. But it was dangerous to run off and act on an unproven assumption.

“That is a rather long story,” she admitted, trying to control the conversation. “But there will be time for stories later, dear sister. You mentioned a ‘guest’ just now—might I surmise that they’re the former satrap, Ahewann bin Alzadaal?”

“Former is right,” the doppelganger replied, an air of derision in its tone. “After all, what’s a king without a kingdom?”

Rubedo did her best to hide her discomfort. These were not her sister’s words. But still, such disdain was a topic worth exploring. “His Excellency, Lord Varis, must be pleased with this turn of events. As are you, I take it.”

“After he turned his back on Dalmasca, and handed me over to the Garleans for speaking out against him? You’re damned right—” The doppelganger stopped suddenly, its expression plainly one of confusion and shame. “I… no, I remember… I was exiled. Were it not for Lord Varis taking a liking to me, I wouldn’t even be here today.”

Having dealt with Thavnair’s immigration office after smuggling herself into Radz-at-Han, Rubedo was aware of the law the doppelganger spoke of. In accordance with Garlemald and under the decree of Ahewann bin Alzadaal, all first generation immigrants from Garlean colonies were to be deported back to their respective lands. In practice, however, Thavnair had enabled numerous loopholes to create the illusion of compliance with their own law. And with the Empire’s collapse in the wake of Varis zos Galvus’s assassination, it was swiftly stricken down.

And yet this fictitious creature believed itself a victim of that selfsame policy. More curiously, Rubedo noted, it attributed its current standing to Varis of all people. And it wasn’t difficult to imagine why.

“But now you are the right hand man of our future emperor,” she suggested, following up on a detail the doppelganger mentioned before. Through this, she hoped to bait out yet more information, or perhaps find a new avenue of attack. “You mustn't sell yourself short. No doubt you have earned your place at His Excellency’s side.”

At this praise, however, the doppelganger’s mood only seemed to worsen, its tone a mix of fatigued and embittered. “I am rather good at killing for him, if nothing else. But I digress; Return to your duty, and leave me to mine. I’ve a prisoner to break.”

Rubedo’s muscles tensed up as she watched the doppelganger depart for the Greater Hold. Her sister was a Viera, both young and able. Sneaking after her would be impossible. Still, she couldn’t just let her go. “Hold a moment, sister. I will come with you.”

“Does Lord Varis not require your aid?” the doppelganger asked, glancing back rather hastily.

“His Excellency has the current situation well in hand,” she lied, keeping her expression neutral. While it would certainly make it easier on herself to redirect this creature elsewhere, she wasn’t going to take the chance of it backing up the voidsent Alastor. “In fact, he has given me orders to assist you. My chemist’s handgonne is equipped with a multitude of formulae—with it, I can render Ahewann pliable with the pull of a trigger.”

The doppelganger stared silently at her for a moment. Etched upon its face was a confluence of emotions—confusion and anxiety being chief among them. Once more Rubedo found herself provoked, wondering what elaborate fiction had gone into creating it. Ahewann, Alastor, and their party combined… with such disparate contributors, what would happen should she pull upon the thread of its existence?

“You would bloody your hands for my sake?” the doppelganger asked, breaking the silence.

“Without hesitation,” Rubedo replied. “My sister would do the same for me, after all.”

There was a peculiar shift in the doppelganger’s bearing as it suddenly smiled. It almost seemed to Rubedo that it had remembered some intrinsic part of itself. With this change in bearing, however, came a dreadful chill in the air itself as it assumed a fighting stance. “Thank you, Krjn. But for the sake of my lord, I can’t let you pass!”

This sudden shift in atmosphere caught Rubedo off guard, and by the time she’d unholstered her handgonne her foe was already upon her. Rather than try to shoot from the hip, she instead put every onze of effort into dodging. The blade on the back of the doppelganger’s gauntlet sliced through the air as it swung a lethal right hook, and though Rubedo had sidestepped just in time to avoid it, the gun barrel built into the back of the wrist fired a blast of aether, tearing into her shoulder.

Wincing, she tried her best to put some distance between herself and her foe. But the doppelganger was relentless, and for every step she took it launched another attack. It quickly became clear that evasion alone was not going to cut it, and so when it suddenly went for a haymaker, Rubedo was ready to intercept. Ducking beneath her foe, she slipped between its legs before spinning about to catch it off guard.

She fired a burst of aether from her handgonne, the shot piercing her foe’s armor as it turned to face Rubedo. Scrambling to her feet, she tried to back away and fire a second, but a red-violet aura engulfed her foe as it charged forward. To her eyes it seemed her foe moved twice as fast just then, and before she could even react the doppelganger had come at her from the right, slashing through her arm with a left hook before clamping her steelclad fist around her neck.

A wordless, silent scream was all Rubedo could muster as she raised the bleeding stump of her right arm. From the elbow down, it was gone—an injury that, even if she weren’t having her windpipe crushed, would make fighting back all but impossible.

“I’m sorry for this, Krjn,” the doppelganger told her. “But as a Radiant, my lifesworn duty to the satrap comes before all else.”

This creature was a Radiant now? It seemed to Rubedo that she was right after all. In sharing a moment of sisterly camaraderie, she’d altered the doppelganger’s very existence. But that was hardly a consolation at this juncture. What was, however, was the sleepy look in its eyes.

“Ghk…” she gurgled, gritting her teeth and clenching her left fist.

“Stop struggling,” the doppelganger replied. “This will… all…”

With a loud yawn, the doppelganger relaxed its grip on Rubedo’s throat, earning it a fierce blow to the jaw. As it flew to the floor, she scrambled to pick up her handgonne, aiming it squarely at her foe and firing a second shot, piercing the doppelganger’s armor just as the first one had.

“Seems sleep won’t suffice,” she said, gasping for air as she fired a third shot at her rising foe. “Petrifaction it is!”

“You would turn your own sister to stone?!” the doppelganger remarked, charging towards Rubedo.

“For roughly one hour,” she answered, backing away from her foe. “More than enough time to awaken Ahewann.”

With every step the doppelganger took, its movements began to slow. By the time it was close enough to strike at Rubedo once more, its armor and skin had turned slate gray, and the dark aura overflowing from within it had faded entirely. Dodging its punches and kicks proved trivially easy, and as Rubedo effortlessly sidestepped an agonizingly slow haymaker, she unloaded one last shot directly into her foe’s exposed face.

“My…” the doppelganger gasped, freezing in place as her momentum ground to a halt. “... lord…… Ahewann……”

With a shake of her head, Rubedo holstered her handgonne. Then, lifting the bloody stump of her right arm, she uttered a word of power. She had expecting a light wind to kick up or droplets of water to spawn near the wound, as a conjurer’s healing magicks oft relied on water or wind-aspected aether. But to her surprise a number of tiny white flames appeared instead, dancing around the stump before sinking into her arm. Rather than causing her even more harm, however, the flames seemed to have the opposite effect, mending the damaged flesh until her stump had stopped bleeding altogether.

“White flames?” she said aloud, realization hitting her as she spoke. “One of mother’s spells—the power of an Elementalist!”

Suddenly a massive tremor shook the whole of the Dalriada, and though Rubedo held her footing, her attention was drawn towards the room’s ceiling as it began to smolder. Black and gray smoke filled the air. There was no time left to ponder her newfound discovery—the airship itself was coming undone, and Ahewann’s unconscious mind was on the verge of turning.

With a solemn nod, Rubedo bid farewell to her sister’s doppelganger, then hurried down the hallway to the Greater Hold. The floor and walls ahead of her had already begun to decay; Every few strides presented a new hole into the airship’s guts or worse, a lethal drop into the sea malms below. Yet she bounded across those gaps with ease, moving forward at a decent pace. Before long, she had reached her destination.

In sharp contrast to the tight corridors preceding it, the Greater Hold was utterly massive. Violet lights lit the room from below, while light from the outside beamed down through burning holes in the walls and ceiling. A torrential downpour from the sky above had torn clean through the airship as well, slowly flooding the hold’s lower levels. And at the far end of the room was a massive magitek slate, upon which rested the body of Ahewann bin Alzadaal. His arms and legs were restrained, and his eyes were tightly shut. Cuts, burns, and bruises dotted his skin—the handiwork of Alastor and the doppelganger’s torture, no doubt. Black and gray smoke swirled about him, and with what little movement he could manage, the man appeared to be trembling and weeping.

“Ahewann!” Rubedo shouted to him. “Your Excellency, can you hear me?!”

“It’s all gone,” Ahewann muttered aloud. “My people, my home… it’s all her fault…”

Clicking her tongue, Rubedo rushed as close to the edge of the platform as she could. Water sprayed across her face as she did, and an idea came to her. Raising her left hand, she uttered a word of power, then gently motioned from the falling water to Ahewann. On cue a spout of water split off from it, softly spraying the man’s face.

Sputtering for a moment, Ahewann opened his eyes. “By the sisters, what—who are you?”

“Rubedo of Thavnair,” she replied, utterly relieved. “A refugee from Dalmasca who has made a new life for herself in your fine nation.”

“It was a fine nation,” said Ahewann, his tone bereft of hope. “But the Empire has laid waste to it. Not a soul remains, save you and I.”

“I cannot fault you for believing that,” Rubedo began. “But you must understand that what you fear has not come to pass.”

At this, Ahewann furrowed his brow. “What do you mean by that? Are there more survivors…?”

“What I mean is that none of this is real,” she clarified, motioning to the water flooding down from the sky. “The isle of Thavnair has not been invaded by Garlemald. The city of Radz-at-Han is not destroyed, and the people so dear to your heart are all alive.”

“Your words are well meant, but they are still lies. I have seen the ruins of Thavnair with my own eyes.” Ahewann forlornly turned his gaze towards the torrent of water. “See how the rain falls upon us? Even the heavens lament the passing of our people.”

As she tried to interject, a thought came to Rubedo. An idea. Guiding the flooding water once more, she sliced through the ceiling of the Dalriada’s hull. The burning steel collapsed nearby, tearing a massive chunk from the platform she was standing on as it sank into the rising water below.

“You are correct about one thing,” she declared as she pointed to the sky. “There is indeed water falling from above!”

Staring into the boundless ocean above them, Ahewann opened his mouth yet remained silent. Slowly, his gaze fell back upon Rubedo. “... I’ve my own suspicions, but it cannot hurt to ask. Rubedo, what exactly is happening to us?”

“You are having a nightmare, your excellency,” Rubedo answered, flashing a hopeful smile. She had been worried the direct approach would prove dangerous, and yet it seemed she’d made the breakthrough they needed. “Four months ago you lost your arm to a terrifying monster, and fell into a coma. Only tonight has this dreamless slumber begun to lift—were it not for the demon posing as Varis Galvus, you might well have awakened already.”

“A nightmare, you say…?” Taking a deep breath, Ahewann turned his attention to his right arm. “I remember a day when the sky turned black and the stars fell upon us. When my own people were transformed by terror and sorrow into unspeakable monstrosities. I fought to defend a man who’d witnessed his own son turning, and…” Shaking his head, he turned back to Rubedo. “All else is a blur of teeth, steel, and unholy flame. My fate was sealed—how is it that I survived?”

“You have my younger sister to thank for that. I’m told she and her allies, the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, put an end to the Final Days.” Noting the confusion and growing panic in Ahewann’s expression, Rubedo raised her arms in an attempt to calm him down. “Remember that this is a dream! That woman who tortured you on behalf of ‘Varis’—she is no more real than this corroding airship, the malms tall plateau upon which Radz-at-Han resides, or the weeping sea above our heads.”

“And what if you’re wrong?” asked Ahewann, his head sagging in shame. “Even if that woman is a figment of my imagination, who’s to say she wasn’t right about me? It was my decision that inspired the cruelty she fell victim to, my laws that drove her from Thavnair so long ago.”

Once more, Rubedo found herself reaching for the water flooding into the Greater Hold. Drawing forth a tide from the rising depths below, she formed a staircase of solid water between herself and Ahewann. Then, carefully striding up to meet him eye to eye, she made her reply and offered the stump of her right arm. “I don’t know the history between you and my sister. But I do know this: Galbana Lily—the real Galbana Lily—has done everything in her power to save your life. Even now, she suffers for the sake of protecting your soul from harm.”

Ahewann seemed to consider her words, falling deathly quiet. His gaze drifted towards her arm, then to his own, before finally chuckling and shaking his head “I know it’s customary to use your right hand for a handshake, but in cases such as ours, there’s no shame in using the left.”

“Of course, your excellency,” Rubedo replied, bowing her head and offering her left hand instead.

Gritting his teeth and straining his muscles, Ahewann seemed to slip right through the matter of his bindings as he stepped up onto the watery staircase Rubedo had made. By her estimates the man was just over seven fulms tall—enough that she needed to step back and tilt her chin up just to meet his gaze. Taking her left hand with his, he gave it a solid, vigorous shake, then clapped her on the shoulder.

“Thank you for coming to my rescue, Miss Rubedo,” he beamed, then idly looked towards the sky. “Now, how do I—”

***

Ascilia’s heart was racing as she catapulted awake. Glancing about through blurry eyes, she tried her best to get her bearings as quickly as possible. They were still in the satrap’s bedroom, though it seemed they’d been moved to the side opposite the satrap’s bed. Huddled together beside herself on a long divan were her allies, alive and well. Galbana Lily, her betrothed, still wearing the luxurious red sari she’d purchased. Rubedo, her soon to be sister in law, dressed in a plain blue sari as well. And the archon Mikoto Jinba, tightly clutching the crystal focus they’d used to enter Ahewann’s dream.

Only one detail was off from how she remembered it: Upon Lily’s exposed skin, Ascilia could see the same dark glowing runes she’d bore at the tail end of Ahewann’s dream. Whatever caused those runes to appear seemed to have carried over into reality. But of the matters pressing upon her mind, this one would have to wait.

As her allies awakened, she turned her attention to the opposite end of the satrap’s bedroom. Four heavily armored Radiants stood between them and Ahewann, alongside Vrtra’s Auri vessel, the boy Varshahn. Their gaze was locked on the satrap as he stirred from his slumber, turning onto his side and propping himself up upon his elbow.

“Ahewann!” Vrtra cried out, rushing to the bedside. “Ahewann, you’ve awakened! How are you feeling, old friend?”

Ahewann yawned, sitting upright and patting the Auri youth on the shoulder. “Surprisingly well rested. It is… good to see you again, Varshahn.” Then, with a solemn expression, he turned his attention to the Radiants and Ascilia’s party. “I have been granted a degree of clarity regarding my condition. The demon in possession of my mind and soul has been exorcized—for this and more, each of you has my eternal gratitude. Radiants, you are dismissed. Please, enjoy the rest of the evening with my blessing.”

As the Radiants bowed their heads and departed, Ascilia was the first to speak. “For a moment there, I feared we had failed not only you, but ourselves as well. But everything appears to have worked out for the best.”

“Indeed it has,” Ahewann agreed, releasing Vrtra from his arms and turning his attention to Ascilia’s party. “Though my mind is ripe to burst with questions, they will have to wait. For now, I would know the names of my saviors and the boon they would ask of the satrap.”

With a warm smile, Ascilia bowed her head. “I am Ascilia, Your Excellency. Formerly of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, now no more than a humble adventurer. And as for a boon, I will allow my companions to speak first.”

Stepping forward, Rubedo motioned to herself. “Rubedo of Thavnair—an immigrant from Dalmasca. Of life in your fair city, I’ve no complaints. Nor did the thoughts of a reward cross my mind tonight. Might I request an extension on your offer?”

“Perhaps you’ve concerns about your status as a Dalmascan expatriate. Or rather, a former soldier.” At the sudden shift in Rubedo’s posture and her clear nervousness, Ahewann merely shook his head and smiled. “You have my word that your secrets will not leave this room. As for an extension, take your time. Meghaduta’s doors are always open to the public—should you have a request, I will make time to hear it, friend.”

Rubedo’s nervousness gave way to bashfulness as she bowed. “Thank you… Your Excellency…”

“Please, my friend. Ahewann will suffice.” As Rubedo stepped back, Ahewann motioned to Mikoto. “Yours is a face I’ve not seen before.”

“Mikoto of House Jinba,” Mikoto introduced herself, softly clutching her crystal. “Archon, aetherologist, and a Student of Baldesion.”

“Full glad am I to meet you, young lady.” Ahewann’s gaze drifted to the crystal. Cupping his chin with his left hand, he continued. “Might I surmise that crystal played some pivotal role in my rescue and awakening?”

“You are correct. But I’m afraid the energies of this crystal focus are entirely expended.” Tucking the focus away, she folded her hands in front of her. “In my experience, finding appropriate sources of aether for such devices can be difficult. As present circumstances compel my stay in Thavnair for the foreseeable future, may I be allowed to survey the land?”

“I see no problem with that,” Ahewann answered. “Should you require a helping hand or bodyguard, we can spare a Radiant or two…”

“That won’t be necessary,” Ascilia interjected. “I can go with her. In fact, we may be able to kill two birds with one stone. I’d like to survey Khadga in search of precious gemstones, you see.”

At this, Ahewann raised his brow. “And what are your intentions for such stones?”

“My betrothed and I are to wed soon,” she beamed, “and I would like to provide the materials for our wedding bands.”

“Very well, but I must offer a word of warning: prepare yourselves accordingly, for the path to Khadga’s summit is oft fraught with peril.” With a nod of confirmation from Ascilia and Mikoto, Ahewann finally turned his attention to Lily. “And you, of course, need no introduction. Before you make your request, might I make one of you, Galbana Lily?”

“I can’t exactly play ‘hero’ for you right now,” Lily pointed out, grimacing as she touched the runes on the base of her neck. “That voidsent, Alastor, hit me with a horrible curse. Until I find a way to remove it, I’ll be less than useless.”

“A curse was placed upon you?” asked Rubedo, frowning. “I am sorry, dear Ktjn. Had I not left to rescue Ahewann—”

“It’s alright, Ruby,” Lily told her. “You’re not to blame for this. I am.”

“But—”

“Ahem! Mayhap the alchemists at the High Crucible could aid you in removing this curse,” Ahewann interjected, clearing his throat. “Regardless, what I had in mind is unlikely to require any strenuous activity on your behalf. If you don’t mind staying as a guest in the palace, we could discuss the details of my request over dinner.”

Lily did not reply at first, instead glancing aside to Ascilia. There was a curious look in her eyes, as if she were looking for approval. But what truly gave away her intentions was, curiously, the way she tapped the sheathed dagger on her belt. As Ascilia gave her a knowing nod, she turned back to Ahewann and smiled. “Alright, I’ll hear you out. None of us have eaten tonight anyways, and last I checked there was quite a bit of food on the plates Vrtra had made for us.”

“... Vrtra?” Ahewann asked, his eyes darting to Rubedo, Mikoto, Ascilia, and finally the Auri youth ‘Varshahn’. “... I see. Four months certainly is a long time, come to think of it. Varshahn, would you mind attending dinner alongside us?”

“... Of course, Your Excellency,” said Vrtra, smiling bemusedly. “Though I’d hoped to let you rest a while before troubling you with current events.”

“Bah! I have slept for four months now. Am I not rested enough as it is?” As he stood up from his bed, Ahewann tried taking a step forward. As his legs gave out beneath him, Rubedo rushed to his side, catching the man in her arms. His chest heaved, as if in shock, and as she helped him back into bed, he shook his head. “... Thank you, my friend. Perhaps Varshahn was right, and I should rest after all.”

“That would be for the best,” Rubedo warmly replied. “It may take a few weeks for you to relearn how to walk, I’m afraid. But if you have your heart set on dinner with us, I am certain we can arrange things to meet your needs.”

Exchanging glances with Vrtra, Ahewann gave a stoic nod. “A helping hand to the dining hall it is, then.” As Rubedo helped him to his feet, he raised his left hand in protest. “Ere we depart, however, I believe Galbana Lily has yet to ask for her promised boon. With the history betwixt us, I’ve a feeling I know what weighs upon her heart. Yet I would hear it from her lips regardless.”

At this, Lily let out a soft chuckle. “If you insist. Your Excellency, would you like to officiate my wedding?”

***

“Hold still, love. This will only take a moment.”

The cool touch of Ascilia’s fingertips on her naked back sent a shiver down Galbana Lily’s spine. Slowly her betrothed traced the runes that appeared to be burned into her skin, humming a warm, homely tune as she made her way down to the hips. Then, cupping them with her hands, she leaned forward and kissed the back of Lily’s neck.

“... Are you examining them, or flirting with me?” Lily asked, heat rising all throughout her body.

“Both,” Ascilia giggled, giving her a second kiss before spinning her around and embracing her, resting her head upon Lily’s chest. “I still can’t believe you were so bold with Ahewann tonight. His jaw nearly popped off in surprise, hm hm!”

Wrapping her arms around Ascilia’s shoulders, Lily gave her a gentle squeeze. “I still can’t believe we all let him carry on like that to begin with. Not that he seemed too bothered to find out that Vrtra took over his duties as satrap.”

“Indeed. If anything, he seemed rather pleased with that.” With a soft sigh, Ascilia melted into her arms, undoing her sash and letting her draped gown slip down over her shoulders. “As am I, to be honest. Tomfoolery aside, he seems quick witted and sensible. He’ll make for an excellent ambassador to Thavnair’s sister states. Though…”

“Though?”

“I hope there’ll be time for sightseeing while we’re traveling with him,” Ascilia clarified. “It’s going to be our honeymoon, after all.”

“I’ll— We’ll make sure of that. Together.” Tilting Ascilia’s head up, Lily planted a kiss on her brow. “But that’s still a few weeks away. In the meantime, we’ve got a lot on our plates—and precious little time to treat ourselves. Let’s make the most of it, shall we?”

Returning Lily’s kiss by locking lips with her, Ascilia let out a heavenly moan. Together their tongues danced, entwined as softly yet firmly with each other as the lovers themselves. For the briefest of moments she even felt the pain of her curse recede, as if overwhelmed through sheer joy and desire. But just as swiftly as they parted did it return, and with it came a shiver through her soul of a different sort.

“You are mine,” Alastor had told her. “My little pet.” “Good girl.” “With you at my feet…” “The things I can do to you…”

As she pulled away, Ascilia frowned. “I know that look, love. Something is troubling you.”

“I know you had plans for us tonight, but...” said Lily, turning away and focusing on the furnishings of their room.

The inn they’d stayed at last night was cozy and inviting, and altogether more regal than those found in Eorzea. But it paled in comparison to the private chambers in Meghaduta. Everything was more luxurious and grand, from the canopy bed sized for Arkasodara couples to the carpets, tapestries, and numerous paintings of the isle’s gorgeous landscapes. The chamber’s dining table came with sturdy and ornate wood carved chairs that some obscure part of her soul couldn’t help but admire, and there was even a bookshelf taller than her by the entryway, stocked full of Hannish history and philosophy tomes for discerning minds looking to expand their horizons.

But none of it helped to push aside the image dominating her mind. Of herself, helplessly bound. Hopelessly enchanted. Staring deep into that gleaming spiral, while the maw of the Angra Mainyu itself drew closer and closer…

Ascilia snapped her fingers, drawing Lily’s attention back to her. “What’s gotten into you, love? Did that demon hurt you?”

“... Mh,” Lily nodded, gripping her arm.

“I see. Would you mind if I check the door for a second?” With a shake of Lily’s head, Ascilia hurried over to the door. After unlocking it and glancing down the hallway beyond, she shut it, leaving it unlocked. “Everything seems to be in order. You’re safe with me, my love. Tell me what happened.”

Lily motioned for Ascilia to come back to her, and as she drew close began whispering into her ear. She told her everything—the voidsent Alastor feigning weakness, the details of the curse, the way he taunted and toyed with her, and the unveiled threat he posed had Ascilia not come to her and Mikoto’s rescue. When at last she finished she took a step back, folding her hands upon her lap.

“I wish I could forget it all,” she admitted. “Maybe then, I could’ve… enjoyed what you wanted us to do tonight.”

“I haven’t exactly been subtle about it, have I?” As she lowered her head, Ascilia held a hand to her heart. “Y’shtola taught me a rather peculiar spell—Minimum, she called it. I was going to ask if you’d like to try it out. But it seems our foe has poisoned the well, so to speak.”

“I don’t want to feel so small again,” said Lily, her voice growing uncharacteristically meek. “Not… not tonight, at least.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Ascilia reassured her. “And that monster won’t hurt you again, love. He can’t.”

Lily smiled faintly. “Promise?”

“I promise. You’re safe in my arms tonight, my dear galbana lily.” Taking Lily’s hand, Ascilia kissed the back of it. Then, guiding her over to the canopy bed, she pulled back the covers and motioned for Lily to climb in. “Having said all that, there was something else I’d wanted to do with you. Nothing risque, mind you. And if you’d rather not, we can simply cuddle together until we fall asleep.”

“What is it?” Lily asked, slipping into bed.

From behind her she heard the sound of Ascilia’s dress falling to the floor, and a moment later felt her beloved brushing up against her back. In a single swift motion she pulled their blanket up as she needed to, taking care not to cover Ascilia’s head, and let out a soft sigh as Ascilia’s arm slipped over her waist.

“I was hoping you and I could dream together,” Ascilia whispered into her ear. “You said you knew my father’s face from a dream. With your Echo and mine, we should be able to experience that dream, and uncover its mysteries.”

“Maybe,” Lily yawned. “Might be more fun to have a good dream, though.”

“Hm. I’ve another reason, though.” There was a pause in her speech, as if Ascilia was looking for the right words. “... The runes you’ve been cursed with—I don’t know what they say, but I recognize the language. ‘Tis the tongue of the Ancients.”

“The Ancients?” Her eyes half-lidded, Lily began to ponder this. “He said it was a curse from the old world. I figured he meant the Thirteenth.”

“Perhaps he did. But given the circumstances, I suspect it was the Ascians who taught him to wield such magicks. With that in mind, I believe your dream may be the key to uncovering a method of removing the curse.” Pausing again, Ascilia snuggled closer to Lily, resting her head against the Viera’s shoulder. “But it’s your choice, my love. With all that we’ve been through, perhaps it would be best to simply get a good night’s rest.”

“Let’s do it,” said Lily, shutting her eyes. “Guide me into a dream, dreamspinner.”

At this, Ascilia snickered. “I’m no Tyr Beq, but I’ll see what I can do. Goodnight, my love…”

With one final yawn, Lily drifted off. The seconds turned to minutes as she sank deeper and deeper into slumber, the light and sounds of reality trailing away like starlight as she plunged into the murky waters beyond their grasp. For a moment it seemed she was alone, but soon after she felt the presence of a light, so warm and kind, gently taking her by the hand.

Quietly she melted away, becoming a roiling shadow. The light did not seem fazed by this. Far from it, in fact. Instead, it embraced her with what felt like a kiss, the two becoming one as they tumbled through time and space. Sinking down, deeper and deeper, into a world of memory and dream…

***

Opening her eyes, Galbana Lily tried to get her bearings. She was riding in a carriage drawn by a pair of chocobo through the Gate of the Sultana—the western entrance to the city of Ul’dah. There were three other travelers riding with her: an Elezen woman and two men, one a Midlander Hyur and the other a Lalafell. The two men were chatting with each other, though she didn’t care to listen in. The Elezen woman was as distant as herself by contrast, staring off into the distance as their carriage came to a halt before a massive iron gate.

One by one, the passengers departed into the busy market streets of Sapphire Avenue. First the Hyur, then the Lalafell, aided by his friend. Then the Elezen, who for a moment glanced back to give Lily an oddly contemptuous look. And finally, herself.

That’s how this dream had always begun. And tonight, it seemed, would be no different. But as she went to step off the carriage, something unexpected happened. Her movement slowed and slowed until she seemed frozen in place, and a figure she’d never seen before hopped off the carriage ahead of her.

It was a Hrothgar dressed in odd clothes—not so far removed from the Whalaqee’s garb, though still considerably different than anything she’d seen. Slim of build, her black fur and unkempt mane of white hair shining in the sunlight. By all appearances she couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen years old.

As this unfamiliar girl moved away from the carriage she turned around, affording Lily the chance to see her eyes. They were a striking shade of icy blue, gleaming with purpose and hope. Those same hopeful eyes seemed not to regard her, however. If anything, Lily mused, she was staring straight through her to the carriage itself.

“You’re the one this dream—this memory belongs to, aren’t you?” she found herself asking.

Doubtlessly this girl would not respond. This was almost certainly her memory, after all, and it was not as if she had ever had the means to meaningfully affect her dreams. They simply took shape on their own, governed by some unknowable force. Yet much to her surprise, a voice did call out. It wasn’t the Hrothgar, not by any stretch of the imagination. And though she could hear the voice clearly, she knew well enough that it wasn’t calling out to any one person.

It was calling out to anyone with the means to hear.

“Hear… Feel… Think…”

The Hrothgar looked to the sky, squinting and covering her eyes at the sight of a burning star shower. This was Hydaelyn’s calling card, when she had need of new champions in her war against the Ascians. It seemed this girl had the Echo, Lily surmised, but something about this didn’t sit right with her. Yet before she could point a finger to why this was, she heard another voice, this one much closer than Hydaelyn’s.

“Look, father!” a young girl called out. “Fireworks!”

Both Lily and the Hrothgar turned to look for the source. They found it in the form of a small child in a yellow and dark brown coat and cap. Beside her stood a tall and muscular looking man with curly blonde hair. This was the man whose statue she and Ascilia had spied amidst her many victims in the Tower of Zot. The man Ascilia identified as Warburton, her father. Which meant the child was…

“Myself,” came the voice of her betrothed from within. “What a difference eighteen years makes. But this dream, this very day…”

“Ascilia?” she asked, the sound of her voice drowned out amidst the murmur of the marketplace and the crackling of fireworks where the star shower had once been. “Ascilia, are you still there?”

“I am," Ascilia responded, the whole world coming to a halt as her voice took center stage in Lily’s mind. “Give me a moment to part with you, and we’ll explore this day together. Though I shant like what will come of it, I’m afraid.”

From within Lily’s breast a light emerged, shining and shimmering as it floated down from the carriage. Rapidly it grew, taking the shape of a person. Details filled out as the light faded away, until at long last what stood before her was her beloved Ascilia, white armored gown and all.

“There we are,” she beamed, offering her hand to Lily. “Shall I set this dream back into motion?”

“I’d like an answer first,” Lily replied, taking Ascilia’s hand within her own. As she stepped out from the carriage with her beloved’s aid, she pointed to the Hrothgar youth. “I think this girl’s the one this memory came from. Do you know her?”

“This girl was a friend of mine,” Ascilia answered. “A Hrothgar immigrant from Yok Tural. Her name was Chel—like a seashell, you see?” With a soft smile and a quiet snicker, she squeezed Lily’s hand and guided her away from the carriage. “She and Thancred were akin to older siblings to me back then. And when I founded the Path of the Twelve many years later, she was among the first to join.”

“She joined the Path?” asked LIly, glancing back at the Hrothgar. “So she had the Echo, then?”

Ascilia nodded in response. “Mhm. Though hers was very unique. Where some could see into the past or future, and others could comprehend the words, intentions, or even the very presence of others, Chel could delve into sleeping minds. Much as we’re doing now, in fact...”

“She could delve into—” Lily began to ask, only to cut herself short.

Off the top of her head, she knew of three souls who could achieve such a feat through the Echo alone. The first was Ascilia herself, of course. Having mastered her Echo through Hydaelyn’s aid and a hundred years of practice wielding it, such a feat was possible for her. As was the case for the Dreamspinners’ adorable leader, the pixie Tyr Beq, who made even Ascilia’s control over dreams seem like child’s play. The third was a girl of great importance to her. One who’d scarcely even realized she had the Echo, for not once prior to a journey unto the past had she heard the voice of Hydaelyn.

As she stared at the Hrothgar youth, Lily couldn’t help but smile. “Do you think she and Ryne share the same soul?”

“I suppose it’s possible. When I found and possessed the first girl to bear the name ‘Minfilia’ on the First, she… that child’s soul felt warmly familiar…” Trailing off with a crestfallen look, Ascilia turned away. “If that’s the case, then it would go a long way towards explaining why they were so… receptive to my possession, no matter how many times they were reborn.”

“Sorry,” Lily apologized. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“‘Tis alright, love. You didn’t mean any harm. And knowing what happened on this day…” With a soft sigh, Ascilia snapped her fingers. The flow of time within the dream resumed shortly thereafter, and as Warburton and young Ascilia hurried down the street to Sapphire Avenue, she shook her head and smiled. “You know as well as I do where this dream leads. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to stage an intervention. Would you mind handing me that amber soulstone of yours?”

“This is just a dream,” Lily pointed out. “Why would I… wait, didn’t I have it back in the Tower of Zot?”

“You did. That’s why I assume you have it with you here, too.” As Lily checked her pockets and miraculously produced the aforementioned soulstone, Ascilia gave a sly grin. “Perfect. No doubt it still works too, just as it did then.”

Lily shrugged her shoulders and handed over the stone. “I hope so, I guess. Who exactly do you intend to summon?”

“The one person in all of Etheirys who may yet grant us the answers we seek,” Ascilia explained, cupping the stone between her hands. Motioning for Lily to follow her lead, she knelt down and waited. Then, once Lily had done so as well, she began to pray aloud. “Mother Hydaelyn, hearken unto Your children’s plea! From within this realm of purest creation, beyond the reach of the waking world, we beseech Your intercession! We beg an audience with the soul that once dealt within You—with Your very heart, Venat!”

Breathlessly, Lily waited for a sign of divine intervention. Not that she expected it. Far from it. The real Hydaelyn was long gone. And though she had succeeded in reassembling the Ancient woman’s soul with the power of an unsundered crystal of light, Venat’s soul resided deep within the aetherial sea. And in truth, she doubted her own memory of Venat or Hydaelyn would serve as a reasonable facsimile. How could it know what its own creators did not?

So it came as something of a surprise to her when a cold wind blew through the Ruby Road Exchange. It was unlike the winds she usually felt in and around the city, and seemed to have a will of its own. For it blew precisely once, as if to draw their attention to the other side of the carriage.

“While we’re waiting for a miracle, is that Thancred over there?” she asked, pointing to a white-haired Hyuran man. He was strolling past the carriage with a woman in each arm—one a Midlander like him, the other an Elezen. Both seemed rather taken with him. “Wouldn’t he be… I mean, seventeen here? He doesn’t look a day younger than thirty-two.”

Ascilia perked her head up, turning to look at the mysterious Hyur. Upon spotting him, she rolled her eyes and laughed. “Heavens, you’re not wrong. He always had been rather babyfaced, hasn’t he? Though I suspect he made a habit of padding his shirt when he was this young.”

“So tell me,” Thancred began to ask his would-be dates,” were in this lovely city might you lovely ladies be staying?”

As the three of them departed down the street to Sapphire Avenue, Ascilia shook her head. “He was always acting like this back then. ‘Twas frustrating in my youth, having such a shameless flirt claiming himself to be my kin. But time wore away at those frustrations as I came to know the man beneath the mask, and what started as contemptuous barbs soon became loving jests.”

“He does have a way of growing on you, doesn’t he?” Lily offered.

“Like mold and mildew,” Ascilia added, snickering. “Torturing himself over his failings aside, I wouldn’t want him any other way.”

It was then that the Hrothgar girl, Chel, began following after Thancred. But just as she was a few paces ahead of Lily and Ascilia, she glanced over her shoulder at them. For a single moment her baby blue eyes had turned a solid, aetherial blue, before a blink returned them back to normal and she hurried into Sapphire Avenue’s busy market.

“... Seems like our prayers have been answered after all,” Lily declared, rubbing her chin. “Think that was the real deal, or…?”

“It was,” Ascilia answered, smiling. “I can feel her presence all around us, like a cool breeze on a sunlit spring day. She must be waiting for the right moment.” Taking Lily by the hand, she gestured up towards the Adventurer’s Guild. “The parade should be starting soon. Once the goobbue breaks loose, we’ll want to cut through to the alleyways behind the Quicksand and intercept it. I believe that is when she’ll make her proper entrance.”

“Alright.” Following Ascilia up the Adventurer’s Guild, Lily leaned onto the railing overlooking the street below.

It had been some time since she and Venat had last spoken. In her heart and through her words, Lily had forgiven the would-be goddess. She knew well enough that Venat had accepted that forgiveness—it was the very reason she allowed her soul to be made whole again. There was no need for them to hash things out again, but still her mind drifted in that direction for reasons she couldn’t quite grasp.

It felt as if there was still something she hadn’t forgiven. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why, save for a question rattling in her mind. It would’ve been one thing if she’d experienced this dream, this memory, from Ascilia’s perspective. But the Antecedent’s mind was a cloister closely guarded—not once could Lily ever recall the Echo putting her in her beloved’s shoes.

So why is it that she dreamed of Chel’s first day in Eorzea, when by her reckoning the two had never met?