Ascilia, Scion of Light

“Hear… Feel… Think…”

A wicked wind blasted overhead as Lily came to. What felt like frigid sweat beaded down her brow, but as she raised a hand to wipe it away she found it to be not just sweat, but blood as well. She could scarcely recall what had happened to her. One moment she had been on her feet, calling upon the elements to aid her allies. And now she was—

“Thank the soddin’ Twelve she’s awake,” came a familiar woman’s voice. Tugging on the collar of her robe, the woman drew Lily up onto her knees. Wiping her brow and blinking, Lily strained to get a good look at her. Una Tayuun, a Miqo’te Seeker. “Off your plaster, Lily! Percy an’ Satz need you!”

Gripping her maple crook with both hands, Lily staggered shakily up to her feet, taking a deep breath as she tried to ascertain her surroundings. She appeared to be on one of a series of floating islands, suspended high above the ground. Far above them in the smoldering red sky was the red moon, Dalamud, its descent seeming inevitable. Before her lay the bodies of two men, one Roegadyn and one Elezen.

Satzfloh and Percevains, Una’s companions. Though they’d been with the Path of the Twelve longer than she had, they were still junior Walkers—delinquents who spent as much time making trouble for other initiates and Minfilia as they did shirking their own responsibilities.

Despite this, they were… friends… to her. By the look of it they were in the same state: Unconscious and bleeding. But not dead, not yet.

Beyond them were two more combatants, one an armored figure wreathed in a burning aura not unlike Dalamud, wielding a blood-soaked gunlance. Nael van Darnus, Legatus of the VIIth Legion. Thrall to the very celestial body with which he sought to cleanse Eorzea of life. The other was a towering woman, black as night beneath the fallen moon’s light, straining to keep the giantsgall axe in her hands from falling. Her flowing white mane billowed in the bitter wind, her shoulders heaved and her breath ragged. She’d been watching over them, defending them.

“Una, Lily, get these boys on their feet,” their guardian declared, her eyes fixed on their foe. “Then we’ll make a break for it.”

She shook her head, nearly falling over from the exertion. “Chel, you can’t be serious. If we don’t… stop him, he’ll… Dalamud…”

“Shut yer tart hole and heal, damn it!” Una cried, kneeling down beside Satzfloh, channeling her aether into the man’s body. “Come on, Satz. On your feet. Please…”

With a beleaguered sigh, Lily did the same, whispering words of prayer as she channeled the power of the elements. Percevains rose to his feet first, his hands shaking as he removed his mask and clutched his forehead. Satzfloh was next, groaning loudly as he sat up straight.

“What in the Hells hit me?” he asked, massaging his brow. “I remember meteors and a golem, and then…”

“One of the comets exploded, and the shrapnel tore into us,” Lily found herself saying, the memory of the incident coming back to her. “But it was the might of our foe’s lancework and the magicks Dalamud has blessed him with that put us down for the count. I… Minfilia was right. We weren’t ready for this.”

“Do you think Cid will get us out of here?” asked Percevains, eyeing the airship fluttering about around the floating isles of the Rivenroad.

“He will,” said Chel, her gaze still fixed upon Nael. “I’ll cover our retreat. Don’t stop and don’t look back.”

With a nod each, Una and her companions darted to the furthest edge of the island, hailing the Enterprise and its pilot, Cid Garlond. Lily turned to flee as well, but before she could take more than a single step she heard a familiar voice, warm yet haunting, calling to her.

“Hear… Feel… Think…”

“... I… understand,” she said aloud. “You’re going to die here. But if you think for a moment that I’ll leave your side—”

“Better one of us dies than both,” Chel declared, her ears twitching. “You hear Her, don’t you?”

“I do,” she replied. “How did you…?”

“Because I can hear Her too. Strange that it took this long—with every soul to cross Ascilia’s halls, that I possessed Her blessing without ever hearing Her voice seemed more and more a mistake.” Clearing her throat, Chel looked skyward, perhaps in the hopes of catching a glimpse of their mystery singer. “What do you want from us?! Answer me!”

“Why even waste the effort to ask?” came the bass-heavy voice of Nael van Darnus as he began to close the gap between them. “Have I not made it clear what your purpose in this confrontation is? I will rend your bodies asunder, beasts, and adorn His sanctuary with your flesh and bones!”

As the sound of the Enterprise drawing closer filled the air, Chel spat on the ground. “Damn it. Alright, new plan. You and I—”

But Nael cut Chel off with a sudden dash, his gunlance ripping through the air. With a hefty swing of her axe she parried his attack, the lance discharging a wide beam of red-hot light into the air. Responding to his attack in kind, the pair began to dance across the battlefield, landing only glancing blows here and there.

Even with Lily’s support, peppering Nael’s armor with conjured stone and blades of wind, it seemed impossible to land even one solid blow. But all the cuts and scrapes he inflicted upon Chel were beginning to add up. Not even the healing Lily provided her seemed enough to keep her going. Her reactions grew slower and weaker with every moment that passed, until there was nothing more she could give to fight back.

With a swing of his gunlance, Nael severed the fingers on her right hand, causing Chel to drop her axe. And with one final thrust, he pierced her chest.

With a loud, rasping cough, Chel spat up blood.

“Pathetic,” the Legatus declared, flinging aside her body with a flick of his wrist. “And now for the hare.”

Lily froze, her gaze drifting down to the crumpled body of her fallen friend. Fear and fury welled within her in equal measure, her hands clenching tightly around her crook. In and out she gasped for air, again and again and again. And as her foe drifted into view, lance at the ready to skewer her, her thoughts scattered upon the wind, leaving only the tumultuous feelings burning within her, rapidly swelling until they were as a raging inferno.

“How gracious of you to stand still for me,” Nael intoned, Dalamud’s fell light coursing through his lance as he lunged in for the kill.

With a blood curdling shriek, Lily flung her crook to the ground and darted forward, slipping past Nael’s lance and through his guard. Her right hand came up, lightning arcing out like knives from the gaps between her knuckles. Effortlessly she cleaved through the Legatus’s helmet, cutting it in half and searing the face beneath.

Stumbling backwards, the bubbling skin of his feminine face exposed to the elements, Nael opened his mouth as if to speak. But not one sound passed from between his lips—it seemed that the lightning blades she’d struck him with had suppressed his speech entirely. Raising his lance instead, he made to strike her once again.

And once again Lily evaded the attack, her hand clamping around the man’s throat and dragging him into the stone floor with a heavy thud. Dancing blue flames emerged from her palm as she released her grip, twisting and twirling about Nael’s body before wrapping tightly around him, pinning his arms to his waist.

“Ghkhk…” Nael gurgled, his eyes gleaming red. “Ghh…. release me, you filthy mongrel!”

Summoning all the might she could muster, Lily shuddered and stomped her foot, the ground beneath Nael buckling and snapping as it rose all around him. Clenching her hands together, as if in prayer, she forced her will upon the stone, tightening its grip on her foe’s body even as it fully engulfed him.

“Die, Garlean scum!” she hissed as she pressed both hands together. “May the land drink deep of your blood!”

With crunch after sickening, squelching crunch, the stone prison slowly collapsed upon itself, mangling and crushing the body of her foe within. And with the turning of her hands, she forced the makeshift tomb back into the earth, burying the corpse. Satisfied that there was no coming back from such a death, she took a deep breath and began to process what she’d just done.

Cutting lightning and silencing thunder. Binding flame and imprisoning stone. These were among the many abilities Lily knew only from the stories her mother once shared. The power of an Elementalist—power that had somehow come to her as instinctively as breathing.

But there was no time to try and understand why she had awakened to them now of all times. For as her fury subsided and the high it brought with dissipated, her gaze returned to the source of her despair.

Her dear Chel was mortally wounded. If she didn’t receive aid immediately, she would die.

Rushing over to her side, Lily noted the steady rise and fall of her chest and the focused look in her eyes. Kneeling down, she clasped her hands together over the hole in her chest, beginning a healing incantation. Though it would cost her everything she had left, she could at least hope to mend her pierced flesh and stabilize her draining vitality. But as she channeled her aether for the ensuing benediction, she felt something odd. It was as if some otherworldly force had begun to flow into her. And with it came a familiar voice, warm and gentle and kind.

“Hearken to my words, my child. If thou wouldst save thy companion, look to the Light within and pray.”

***

“... I’m not one for praying to Gods or anything resembling them,” Lily continued, lowering her head and stirring her cup of chai with a spoon. “But at that moment, I was so desperate to save my Chel’s life, I couldn’t… it seemed the right thing to do.”

In the hour of their awakening, memories of the past came flooding back to her and Ascilia both. Their meeting in the streets of Ul’dah, her joining the Path of the Twelve. The adventures she had in pursuit of Ascilia’s dream of uniting the disparate nations and city-states of Eorzea. All the triumphs, failures, hopes and fears they’d carried with them unto the end, when the descent of Dalamud and the awakening of Bahamut ushered in the Seventh Umbral Calamity.

Amidst every memory threaded a truth neither could deny. In joining the Path, she had been partnered with one of its founding members. A woman who, like Ascilia herself, she had grown unmistakably close to. She was a Hrothgar, black-furred and white-maned, taller and stronger than Lily herself. So unbearably kind that the walls she’d erected around her heart had no choice but to buckle under the pressure of her words and deeds.

Her name was Chel. And they had been friends.

But it wouldn’t do to try and bend the ears of one of her companions. Ascilia already knew, of course, having had her own memories of Lily’s days before the Calamity restored as well. But she and Mikoto had departed this morning for the summit of Khadga, Estinien was plainly busy with his own errands, and Y’shtola was likely still in Gyr Abania. Thus she had sought out the home of Mihleel, so that she might share the story of her past with her beloved sister.

“She must have meant a great deal to you,” said Rubedo, pouring herself a second cup.

“She did, and she does,” Lily clarified, holding a hand to her heart. As difficult as it was for her to believe what she was about to say, she knew it to be the truth. “As I prayed for my friend’s salvation, our savior invoked a peculiar forbidden magick: ’Flow’. It whisked the both of us into the lifestream together, though we were quickly driven apart—her to some distant shore, and I to the very heart of our star.”

“And you… survived this?” asked Rubedo, before shaking her head. “... A daft question, I know. But you can understand my incredulity.”

“Hah, of course. If not for Hydaelyn watching over me, I would’ve been doomed to fizzle away down there.” Draining her cup of chai, Lily set it down and let out a heavy sigh. “But it was not without consequence. Five years of my life disappeared down there, and with them went every memory of Eorzea and the people I’d grown to love there. The woman I was upon my return to the world above… she was in no condition to be anyone’s hero, to say the least.”

“... I recall witnessing a glimpse of that woman’s shadow last night. Full glad am I to see her laid to rest, that my sister’s smile might grace our door today.” After regarding Lily with a warm smile, Rubedo raised a hand to her chin. “But these magicks you wielded to slay the White Raven himself—that was not mere conjury, but the power of an Elementalist, correct?”

“I believe so, though I must confess that mother never taught me to wield them—even with self-reflection, I doubt I could make use of them to the same extent as she did.” With a soft chuckle, Lily pondered how best to continue.

She had half a mind to correct her sister regarding the White Raven. Her memories weren’t wrong—Nael van Darnus, or the one claiming to be him, had died that day. But the dreadwyrm Bahamut had resurrected her foe shortly thereafter, just as it claimed the soul of the Archon Louisoix, and tasked them both with overseeing its own reconstruction for the next five years.

It was there, in the depths of Dalamud’s shattered husk, that she fought “Nael” once more.

But few knew the fate of the woman named “Eula”, for her identity and continued existence had been redacted from Alisaie and Alphinaud’s reports. Fewer still knew that she yet lived, that the dreadwyrm had withdrawn his influence from her, that Lily herself had lept to the woman’s defense. That she had repaid this favor by standing beside her and the Twins in the battle against Bahamut.

That she had left Eorzea, vowing to atone for the shame Project Meteor had brought upon her soul. That she was still out there, perhaps, still searching.

But it was not her place to share such secrets, nor would it benefit her sister to learn of her. So she pushed such thoughts aside, focusing instead on the glint in Rubedo’s eyes, and the glimmer of hope within her heart.

“... You want to learn to wield such magicks, don't you?” she asked. “You have our mother’s gift, just like me.”

Rubedo’s gaze fell upon a bookmarked medical tome she’d left on Mihleel’s dining table, her lips curling into a frown. “It was to learn such magicks that I left our homeland in search of her, only to find naught but an obituary and tales of her missing daughter. But I can’t ask you to teach me. Not while this curse persists. And as you and yours will no doubt be consumed with your journey unto the Void ere long—”

With a soft laugh and a shake of her head, Lily stood up and reached across the table, holding her sister’s shoulder. “I’m happy to teach you, Krjn. Hells, I’m happy to learn. ‘Tis not often the world hands me something so precious as an opportunity like this. So I will make the time for you, I promise.”

“But your curse—” her sister protested, only to be silenced by a finger to her lips.

“Ascilia labors to free me from these shackles,” she interrupted. “And I have the utmost faith in her success.”

But though this was true, Lily couldn’t help but worry. Her beloved’s heart would always carry within it her doubts, as was true for all life. And though it was her conviction in facing down those doubts that led Lily to stay behind, something about her allowing them to guide her judgment left her heart aching.

“... I have given her the means to summon allies to her side,” she continued, motioning to herself and her sister in tandem. “And I would see us both prepared should she have need of our aid.”

“And not even a chirurgeon’s orders would see you stay behind,” Rubedo sighed, pouring herself a third cup. With a nervous laugh, she met Lily’s gaze once more, and though her tone was that of affirmation, there was a quiet look of fear in her eyes. “Very well. But before I agree to help you, I will need details. What threat does she expect to find on her journey to cleanse this curse?”

“One most would disapprove of,” Lily began. “She means to summon a primal born from her own heart—and in defeating it, claim its power for herself.”

Rubedo narrowed her eyes. “I see. And might I surmise you have a means to… bypass this curse of yours?”

“I might,” Lily nodded, flashing a pained smile. “You were a Chemist before fleeing to Thavnair, yes? Perhaps you could help me…”

***

With pickaxe in hand, Ascilia stopped for a moment to take in her surroundings. The path to Khadga’s summit was decidedly greener than the mountains of Thanalan and Gyr Abania, with thick grass and various foliage towered over by a scattering of hannish date palms. That much had been clear from the foot of the Giantsgall Grounds, of course, but to see the beauty of this place up close took her breath away.

No less breathtaking were the violet spires of giantsgall stretching skyward, glinting with light from the red morning sun. And though the wind was brisk and the air was dryer and thinner than below, for Ascilia it was as close to home as Thavnair thus far could be. So it was that she found it rather trivial to get her bearings straight, and within seconds she was cracking away at a vein of uncommon stone.

The hills of Thavnair contained traces of tin and silver. Through metallurgy and alchemy, one could make the purest of pewter alloys from them, a perfect metal for fine jewelry. And where one would find such ores, one would certainly find other rare oddities.

“I’ve located the confluence you and I have been tracking,” crackled the voice of Mikoto over her linkpearl. “As I suspected, the aetherial wave-forms resonate perfectly with the crystal focus—but that should hardly come as a surprise, given the relative proximity of the source, Bozja.”

“Glad to hear it,” Ascilia beamed, her pickaxe lancing through layer after layer of stone. “But will it be enough for both our purposes?”

“I have reason to believe it will. But are you truly certain this is necessary to cleanse Galbana Lily of her curse?”

“You needn’t worry about the risks,” Ascilia tried to reassure her. “We’ve gone over this already. The primal won’t be able to temper anyone.”

“But even without tempering, if the binding magicks we employ fail to contain it—”

“That would indeed be disastrous,” she conceded, taking a moment to study the vein she was striking. “But we have the amber soulstone my beloved entrusted to me. Should worse come to worst, we will call for aid.”

“... As you say. In that case, I will endeavor to prepare the binding magicks ahead of your arrival. Hurry to my side when you’ve finished.”

It was scarcely half a bell later when Ascilia finished her mining, putting away her tools and wiping the sweat from her brow. She had found everything she was hoping for—raw tin and silver ore, along with two substantial chunks of unrefined gemstones. Kneeling down, she offered three prayers for this bounty. One to the Sisters, one to the Twelve, and a final prayer to Hydaelyn Herself. Then, reaching up to her ear, she activated her linkpearl once more.

“I’m on my way,” she stated, removing her crystalline sword and shield from her pack. “How are things on your end, Mikoto?”

“My crystal focus is fully recharged,” Mikoto chirped. “And the beginnings of the wards are in place—”

Mikoto’s voice trailed off, replaced in full by a high pitched whining and a sharp pain in the recesses of Ascilia’s mind. She knew this feeling, though it had been a century since it last happened to her. She tried to push the feeling aside, tried to focus on the here and now, but in spite of her experience, there was no resisting the world fading out all around her. Silently she fell to her knees, the present replaced wholly by a vision of the past.

“Stars on high, fall as rain! Pleiades - Twin Meteor!”

She knew not why she’d declared such an incantation. As far as she knew, the magicks she and Lily brought to bear in the finale of their battle against the voidsent Alastor were derived purely from intuition and faith. That faith had been rewarded with a series of falling stars, fourteen in all, annihilating their foe’s misbegotten form.

Nor did she know quite what came over her as she poured her heart out to the friend whose heroic adventures had lit a fire within her gentle heart. That too had been rewarded, in its own heartwarming fashion.

The line between love and friendship had blurred well before then. As it had for several others. But to speak her feelings, to be accepted… Even if it was never meant to be, the euphoria she felt in that moment was surpassed only by the joy of putting her theories to proof out in the field.

And see where it had gotten her! A new adventure! A journey beside so many fascinating figures, to such a fascinating place!

It was more than she could’ve ever hoped for. Was it wrong, then, that she found herself hoping for more?

As she came to, Ascilia shook off the throbbing pain in her head. That vision was from the night before, when she and her gathered allies entered the nightmare of Ahewann bin Alzadaal to put to rest the voidsent plaguing his soul. She had seen that dreamworld through the eyes of Mikoto, heard her voice and felt the warmth of her passion. Her joy. Her love.

For Lily.

If her heart didn’t belong to you, came a voice from within, then she might be with her instead.

She had said that. Lily had… but it had been in jest, hadn’t it? She told herself that again and again, hoping it would be convincing.

But that’s a lie you know too well. You’ve been one with her before. You know how she felt about you. How she moved on when she thought you were gone. One with Ryne, a hollowed soul to fill with a new mind and new memories.

“But she knew what I was,” Ascilia whispered as she crossed her arms, gripping them tightly. “Lily saw the day Thancred called me back.”

The girl is your “reincarnation”. Your “legacy”. The First believes the lie you sold them when you sold your soul to be their hope. What will happen when Ryne meets her end? Will the people of Norvrandt search for the next Minfilia? Will they, too, try to bring you back?

“It was indeed a lie,” she admitted, lowering her head in shame. “The gods only know how much I’ve wronged those girls. Cursing them with my name, my visage, my fate. Taking the first’s life as my own. Allowing the rest to die, one after another. And Ryne… dearest Ryne…”

Trailing off, Ascilia turned her mind back to that final moment in Amh Araeng. The moment she pulled that girl deep into the hallowed light of her soul, that they might finally speak with one another. And it was there, in the warmth of Ryne’s words, in her hopes and dreams for herself and her world, that she found the strength to stand herself.

“But she accepted it all—her life, our burden, and the legacy I would give her,” she firmly rebutted. “She made that legacy her own, and I was… I am… so very proud of her.” Clenching her fist, she raised her head to the heavens, her voice growing louder. “I cannot say what may come to pass, in neither her life nor the next. But bitter though it may have been, I will not decry the path I walked!”

Indeed. You had stayed true to the path, even with your dying breath. Through undeath and unto your final rest.

“Then why!?” she screamed her throat hoarse, a dirty tear crawling down her cheek. “Why can’t I be happy!? Why can’t I let myself live…?”

There she stood, waiting for a rebuttal. Some pithy or sardonic remark, born from the depths of her doubt and despair. But nothing came to her. Nothing save for the biting kiss of the cold mountain winds.

***

Mikoto panted as she came to a halt, having hurried her way back down the mountain trail. She had heard a scream mere moments ago. Fearing that something had happened to Ascilia, she’d bolted without hesitation. Yet much to her relief, she had hardly covered half the distance before spotting Ascilia heading her way.

“Ascilia…!” she called out between breaths. “Are you… alright?”

As she drew closer, Ascilia took a deep breath and sighed before making eye contact. Though she bore no signs of injury, the haggard expression adorning her face suggested a harrowing encounter.

“Have you finished preparing the binding magicks?” she asked Mikoto.

“I’m afraid I halted their creation when I heard you scream,” Mikoto admitted, noting  that she’d evaded her question. “Ascilia—”

“That’s fine,” Ascilia interrupted her. “We may not have need of them after all.”

Such a response gave Mikoto pause. When they’d first set off no less than an hour ago, Ascilia had confessed her desire to summon and bind a primal with her newfound power. And though she was reluctant to agree, having needed to witness her reunion with the soul of Hydaelyn Herself to convince her, when Mikoto proposed the use of arcane geometries to keep the primal locked in combat with them, Ascilia had seen the wisdom in her suggestion.

Before she could point any of this out to her companion, however, Ascilia had already walked on by. Between this, her change of heart, and the weary look in her eyes, it was clear that something was terribly wrong. And if she did not uncover the reason why, the probability of it affecting the primal summoning was certain.

Rushing to her companion’s side, Mikoto grabbed her by the arm. And as Ascilia came to a halt and turned to look at her, she began to speak. “I understand that we’ve only just met, and you may be reluctant to trust me. But earlier this morning you entrusted me with our friend’s curious amber soulstone. You would not have done this if you did not value my perspective. So I ask you, Ascilia—what is it that’s troubling you?”

“... I would have you make a promise to me,” Ascilia replied. “No matter the outcome, you will not utter a word of this to Galbana Lily.” At this, Mikoto found herself hesitant. As if she could sense why, Ascilia continued. “... If I fail in this endeavor, it will mean the end of my life. I need Lily to accept that—and she never will if she knows my reason why.”

“The end of your life…?” Mikoto asked, though in her mind an assumption had already made itself apparent. Ascilia had made no mention of summoning allies to her aid, who would surely put themselves in harm’s way to protect her. “I take it you no longer wish to call upon our allies?”

“Promise me,” Ascilia insisted. “Elsewise, I shall say naught.”

Mikoto gave a solemn nod. If worse came to worst, she would have to make amends for breaking it. “Not a word of this movement shall leave my lips. But I must know, Ascilia—what is it that drives you to such ends?”

***

Having arrived at Khadga’s summit at last, Ascilia wasted no time in finishing their preparations. An arcane circle, roughly fifty yalms from end to end and held fast by six aetheric blades, lit the otherwise barren rock in an otherworldly blue hue. Having been provided to her alongside the summoning ritual by Venat, it would prove more than able to withstand a primal’s strength long enough to defeat it.

“Here you are,” said Mikoto, handing her the crystal focus. “You should have no trouble drawing upon the aetherial current here.”

“Thank you, Mikoto,” Ascilia replied, gingerly taking the focus and holding it close to her chest. “I’m sorry to have burdened you like this.”

Mikoto gave a soft smile as she shook her head. “I invited this burden upon myself when I asked you to bare your heart. That is what friends do for one another, is it not?”

“I suppose so,” Ascilia conceded, flashing a bittersweet smile of her own. “Would that we’d met sooner—mayhap we’d have been good friends.”

With a solemn nod, Mikoto moved aside, giving Ascilia the room she needed. Kneeling down upon the barren rock, she held the focus aloft and began her incantation. Though it was hardly poetic verse, having composed it alongside Venat, her heart swelled with each passing syllable.

“O’ hallowed waters, accept this bounty and hear my prayers.”

“Let thy divinity flow, that ye might wash away the dark.”

“My desire be thy heart, my shame and sins thy cloak and blade.”

“O’ blessed scion of light, speak thy name—our name—and arise!”

The crystal focus shone brilliantly as her incantation finished, and as she released her grip it hovered in the air before her, beads of aether streamed out from within. Converging upon a single point a few yalms away, the luminescent aether grew more voluminous with each passing moment until it resembled a gleaming sphere of light. Rapidly it spun, glowing brighter as it grew smaller until…

“Ascilia, you must shield your eyes!” Mikoto cried.

Raising her hand just in time, Ascilia covered her eyes. Light slipped through the cracks of her fingers as the sphere collapsed upon itself, exploding in a scintillating shower. The light faded almost as soon as it had flooded their vision, and as Ascilia lowered her hand and caught sight of the primal she’d summoned, she felt a lump forming in her throat.

Hovering off the ground was the all too familiar shape of a woman. Unbound hair spun of gold descended across her shoulders and pure white gown billowing in the wind, her fair skin shining in the morning light. The air about her glittered and shimmered like the sun reflected upon the sea. Her eyes opened, revealing them to be silver-blue and glowing with power, and as she began to speak there was a coldness in her voice akin to the darkest depths of the ocean.

“There is no more need for words,” the primal born in her own likeness declared. “Draw your steel, Minfilia.”

“Ascilia,” she corrected her adversary. “And no. Not until you speak your name.”

“Her name?” asked Mikoto, raising a hand to her chin as she gazed upon the primal. “Given the incantation, it would almost certainly be one you shared. Ascilia, then? Or perhaps Minfilia…”

“Minfilia is our name, and our duty,” the primal answered, bowing her head to Mikoto. “We are the Scion of Light—granted form and future by the will of the star herself.” Then, with a disgruntled sigh, she returned her attention to Ascilia. “That our flight from the aetherial sea has led to this crossroads was inevitable. Yet there is still time to amend our grievous error. We may yet serve out the role Hydaelyn left for us.”

“Hydaelyn—Venat—wanted me to live,” Ascilia declared, drawing her crystalline sword and shield. “However undeserving I am of this second chance, it is for myself alone to decide how I choose to see it through! Not Hydaelyn, not the Twelve, not even my beloved Lily—and certainly not you!”

“Even now you deny that we are one and the same, as I knew you would. Henceforth I shall humor your dissent no longer.” With a flourish of her wrist, her adversary willed the shimmering air surrounding her into her grasp, shaping it into a gleaming scythe. “I would make a proclamation: Upon my shattering of the barrier meant to contain us, the Archon Mikoto Jinba shall receive a vision. She will then summon four allies to your side. They will fight to keep us apart—and they will fail.”

As Mikoto procured her cane and moved to Ascilia’s defense, her adversary darted to the edge of their makeshift arena. Swiftly she swung her scintillating scythe, the barrier crackling to life as the blade made contact. In spite of her boasting, the binding magicks held firm. But even as Mikoto called upon the earth and wind and Ascilia charged forward, her sword crackling with aether, she feared in her heart that her adversary's words would hold true.

Unleashing her magicks in a burst of holy light, she attempted to subdue her adversary in one fell swoop. Aided by the conjury Mikoto brought to bear, it should well have dealt a telling blow to the primal. Yet with the ease of a serpent in the ocean’s depths, she eddied about the earth, wind, and light, rendering their attacks harmless.

No, she realized, their situation was far worse. For upon focusing her eyesight on the aether itself, she witnessed a terrifying reality. The current whose aether had borne the primal into existence was spun about her like a dancer’s ribbon, and with her gentle movements it had swept up their magicks and absorbed them. Then with a flourish of her scythe, she drew aether from the current to form a surging torrent of water, aiming it squarely at Mikoto.

Rushing to her ally’s aid, Ascilia anchored her shield into the rock below, wings of light emerging from within as she blocked the torrent. Second after second passed without so much as a reprieve from the battering force of her adversary’s assault, and for a moment Ascilia wondered if she meant to drown them. But soon after the torrent ceased, and as she rose to her feet, the primal motioned to the watery floor beneath them.

“Thus Her blood has stained your circle. Through this medium I shall shatter our prison,” she coldly declared, floating aloft with her scythe at the ready. “Our fate is already sealed, my other half. How much longer must we continue this farce?”

“Until my heart beats its last!” spat Ascilia, gritting her teeth in defiance.

“‘Minfilia’ seems possessed of an uncanny degree of foresight,” Mikoto noted, brandishing her cane and whipping the knee-deep waters into a whirlpool, granting the pair a place in the center of the dome to move unimpeded. “As her creator, might you be aware of her limitations?”

“I wish I did,” Ascilia admitted, rising to her feet. Raising her shield, she pointed her blade at the primal. “But everyone has weaknesses, even the gods. If we work together, we will surely uncover it and defeat her.”

“I see an understanding of our gift is in order,” the primal intoned, relaxing her stance. Glancing Mikoto’s way, she flashed an empty smile. “On yesterday’s eve you received a curious summons, and a curiouser fable. A woman bearing your selfsame Echo—but where you see a future that cannot be denied, the future she sees must never come to pass.”

“That’s not inaccurate,” Mikoto conceded, her eyes widening in surprise. “Since meeting her, I have wondered at the differences between Rubedo’s Echo and my own. I even hypothesized precisely what you suggested. But how could you have known that…?”

“In a time that never will be, you shared your thoughts willingly,” the primal answered, bowing her head as if in gratitude. “Within my mind’s eye I bear witness to the river of time—to the tangled eddy that is our past and present. It is in perceiving this flow that I am granted a glimpse into the splintering delta that is our future.” After letting her words hang in the air, she glanced sidelong at Ascilia and frowned. “If nothing else, I must thank you for this gift. Within my breast swells a fervent desire to safeguard the hopes and dreams of those we hold dear. To make those dreams a reality—to grant all Her children the brightest of futures—we will journey unto the heart of this star and take Her seat for ourselves.”

At this, Ascilia’s heart sank. That her creation boasted such extraordinary power despite the limited aether made available to her was one thing. But just as she lacked the strength to turn away from her doubts, so too could she not resist harboring such profane temptations. Had she not chosen to remain in the depths of the aetherial sea when Hydaelyn first made the offer of life anew?

And for what purpose had that been? To serve as Seventh Heaven once did, a psychopomp guiding restless souls to their final destination? A silent prayer in the dark, hoping against hope to resurrect the soul of a dearly departed friend? Or something far grander—to become the new will of the star? Surely, if she desired such a purpose, all she needed was to reach for it.

All she needed was to turn away from the path she chose, and put her faith in fate itself.

It was with this in mind that Ascilia charged forward, her crystalline blade crackling with holy lightning as she bore down upon her adversary. And though her thundering strike was swiftly deflected, ricocheting off the snath of her foe’s scythe, the ensuing flash of lightning proved enough to grant her the chance to fall back. Channeling every onze of aether she could muster, she summoned blade after ephemeral blade of light, filling the spacious dome with ghostly swords. Clenching her hilt, she willed them all to action.

One massive blade erupted from the earth, which the primal barely evaded. It was followed by seven more raining down on her from above, guiding her back to the edge of the arena, the churning whirlpool lapping her ankles as she opened her eyes. Three more large blades pinned her in place against the barrier followed by eight smaller ones, forming a makeshift seal to bind her. And finally, with the last of her gathered aether, she fired off the last blade, impaling her foe outright.

Just then, the whirling waters at the edge of the arena erupted, coating the inside of the barrier along with the primal before freezing in a flash. Surprised and delighted, she took a moment to cast a glance back at Mikoto and breathe a sigh of relief, before returning her attention to her defeated foe.

“So much for bearing witness to the future,” she huffed, reaching out with one hand. “But I never wanted that power. Nor that purpose. I’ve seen what it did to Her—the pain and isolation She endured charting Her course through the ages. And perhaps I could bear such loneliness as She did. But our journeys, however entwined they may be, are ours alone to walk.”

But though she seemed triumphant in this moment, Ascilia couldn’t help but doubt herself. The same was true for Mikoto, it seemed, for even as Ascilia began the process of converting her primal into memoria, the Archon voiced her thoughts.

“If her vision was as all-encompassing as she claims,” she began, clutching the stone of Azem in her hand, “then she must have foreseen this outcome as well. I… I fear we have played right into her hand.”

“How could she—” Ascilia began, her voice falling silent as the sound of the now ice-lined dome cracking reverberated throughout the arena.

It started from the point where the primal had been pinned to the barrier; several large fissures spread out from there, cutting through even the veil of ice, in all directions across to the other side. They grew in size and complexity until the whole barrier was a network of scars, slowly collapsing from back to front into a sea of snowdust and aether.

And as that sea of aether began to flow into the sealed primal, Ascilia’s heart quickened in fear. She continued to reach out for her sealed foe, trying as hard as she could to convert her into memoria. Yet with each passing moment her foe grew more powerful while hold upon their aether grew weaker and weaker, until the primal slipped her grasp entirely.

Finally the last of the ice shattered. And the primal within, having gorged herself on both the water and the barrier’s aether,  collapsed into a swirling sphere of water, ice, and light. No doubt she was molding herself into a form better suited to containing this bounty. And in doing so, Ascilia noted, she seemingly left herself vulnerable. To test that theory she flung her shield at the foe, only to watch in slight dismay as a barrier flickered into view around the primal, her shield bouncing harmlessly off of it and falling to the ground beneath Ascilia’s feet.

“Hells take me for spawning this nuisance,” she spat, her brow furrowed as she knelt down to pick up her shield.

But as she scooped it back up and caught sight of the primal’s barrier disappearing, a thought occurred to her. Sheathing her sword, she slipped her hand into her pack and produced a small rock—a chunk of unrefined tin. Rearing back, she flung the ore with all her might, wholeheartedly expecting it to ricochet off the barrier. To her surprise, however, it pushed through the primal’s aetherial form entirely, skipping across the ground behind them before coming to a stop.

“Why the stone, and not my shield...?” she asked aloud. Turning aside to Mikoto, she caught sight of the Archon clutching the stone of Azem. “Mikoto? Are you… did you have a vision, as she foretold?”

As her eyes drifted down to the amber stone, a growing light shining within, Mikoto gave a faint nod. “... I’m sorry that it has come to this. But if our foe can truly glean knowledge from the future… this may sound like nonsense, but we must ensure there are no potentialities for her to steal from.”

“To what end!?” Ascilia demanded to know. “You know the future she has laid out for us ends in failure!”

Rather than answer, Mikoto merely shook her head, her lips quivering as they curled into a frown. “... In moments like this, our friend—your beloved… she would say something to bolster our confidence. I’m… I was never… the best at such things…"

At this, Ascilia let out a soft sigh. What would her galbana lily say at a time like this? Putting on an air of confidence, she forced herself to smile. “‘Have faith, and all will be well’. Or something to that effect.”

“Precisely!” Mikoto exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “Please, have faith in all of us. Though by necessity we act apart, know that you are not alone.”

“Hm hm, there you go,” Ascilia chuckled. “Go on, my friend. Call upon our allies.”

As Mikoto backed away, giving herself ample room to wield the stone, Ascilia returned her attention to the sphere of aether. As if on cue, it collapsed in upon itself, then exploded outward, taking the shape of a figure thrice her size. Gone was the visage of Ascilia herself, her form now more a hole in the fabric of reality, a window into the sunless sea and its myriad stars. And though her outfit retained its stark white hues, it had transformed as well, becoming a long hooded cloak, the lining of which seemed to merge with the void within.

“All I have foretold is come to pass,” the primal bellowed, slamming the snath of her scythe into the ground before Ascilia. “The Archon shall call upon your allies. They will fight and fall, and your life will be mine.”

“Then why do you sound so frustrated?” Ascilia fired back. With a firm stance and grin brimming with confidence, she infused her blade with holy lightning once again. “You know how this goes—’until my heart beats its last’. If you would have me surrender my life, then come and take it, Minfilia!”

***

She wasn’t sure what to expect when the call for allies came to her. Nor was she at all certain of the science behind her battle plan. But as the golden amber light around her began to fade, Galbana Lily was as ready as she could be.

With her sister’s alchemickal and medicinal knowledge, they were able to replicate the concoction Thancred had used in Amh Araeng, granting him an all too necessary edge over the indomitable General Ran’jit. By halting the flow of the imbiber’s aether, the concoction in question rendered them invisible to both the naked eye and those enhanced to see aether, or so Thancred claimed in his retelling.

Rubedo had only crafted her two doses, a far cry from the half-dozen or so Thancred employed in that battle. But two would almost certainly be enough—particularly when one of them came in the form of a grenade the size of a persimmon. As primals sustained themselves by drawing upon ambient aether, it would surely be forced to consume the ensuing mist it would spew as well.

Even if it only bought her beloved and their friends just a few moments of vulnerability, it was worth trying.

“Thank goodness you’re all here,” said Mikoto as the light fully faded. Looking about, Lily noted the three allies she had been summoned alongside: Y’shtola, Estinien, and her sister Rubedo. “Before anything else, I must ask that you refrain from vocalizing your strategies. Our success will depend on your discretion—in your faith in one another.”

“Suits me just fine,” said Estinien, his gaze drifting towards the opposite end of Khadga’s summit. “But what manner of foe is this?”

“A primal, I’d say,” Y’shtola added, narrowing her eyes. “... A rather powerful one, if the aether welling inside it is any indication.”

At this, Lily turned her attention to the primal as well. Further ahead of them she caught sight of her beloved doing battle with what she could only describe as a giantess hewn from the tapestry that is the sunless sea. The pure white cloak draped across her shoulders billowed in the wind as she guided a torrent of water with her scythe, as if to crush and drown her diminutive foe even as she eviscerated them.

That foe in question was a knightly warrior clad in a white armored gown—her beloved Ascilia. She’d narrowly managed to evade the raging river the primal had created, deflecting the scythe with her shield and firing back with a bolt of lightning from her sword. Yet with a single gesture from her hand, six twinkling stars arranged in the shape of a tree appeared before her. In a flash of light they took the phantasmal form of the Bole—a willowy world tree, said to be the gateway to the First Heaven in Eorzean myth—and as the lightning collided with the phantom tree it was absorbed into the constellation’s light and dispersed as tears of static electricity into the river below.

“Ascilia needs our help!” Lily exclaimed, clenching her fists. “Mikoto, we need to know what we’re getting into here!”

“I have to agree with my sister,” Rubedo nodded, producing a weathered maple crook—the same one Lily herself had used since the beginning of her journey. “Even without the power of tempering, a primal is too dangerous a foe to take on blindly.”

With a frown and a soft sigh, Mikoto shook her head. “Please understand, there is only so much I can say. The primal ‘Minfilia’, as she calls herself, is able to perceive our pasts and divine the futures we might pursue.”

“‘Might pursue’?” Estinien asked, crossing his arms. “Here I thought the future was unknowable. Don’t tell me she can read minds, too.”

“If we are to avoid speaking our thoughts, then perhaps not,” Y’shtola observed. “Regardless, if her foresight is as thorough as described, it may be impossible to mount an offense without her awareness.”

“So unless we level a mountain to swat a fly, we are doomed to fail,” Rubedo wryly noted. “Is there aught else you can share?”

Raising a hand to her chin, Mikoto seemed to consider the question. “... Before she assumed her current form, Ascilia threw both her shield and a rock at her. Her shield rebounded off a barrier, but the rock passed through it unimpeded.”

At this, all fell silent. The implications weren’t lost on Lily—if they were to speculate on why this discrepancy would matter, it could no doubt give away any advantage the discrepancy may provide. And so it was left to each of them to ponder it on their own.

Two possibilities occurred to Lily. The first was that the primal deemed whatever this rock was a non-threat, and thus made no effort to block it. The second, though far-fetched, was that the rock itself was somehow beneath her notice. But without it would be foolish to rely on such a possibility without further evidence.

And as her gaze drifted to the aether-halting grenade in her hand, Lily felt the weight of her curse once more. Just as her curse rendered her a liability on the battlefield, so too did this newfound knowledge destroy her plans. There was no chance the primal would allow herself to be hit with such a potent poison. The concoction was even less than useless—what could she possibly accomplish in consuming it against a foe who knew where and when she would act?

A piercing scream filled the air before swiftly being cut off, scattering her thoughts upon the wind. All eyes were drawn back to Ascilia as she was dragged into the air within a sphere of water crackling with electricity. The horror of such a prison quickly set in—whatever the primal’s intention, there was no doubt in Lily’s mind that she’d lose Ascilia for good if they didn’t act now.

“I’ll see to dispatching our foe,” Estinien declared before launching himself high into the air.

“Wait—!” Y’shtola exclaimed, only to loudly sigh. “Never mind him. Everyone else, do as you must!”

An aetheric barrier manifested around each of them in that moment, courtesy of Rubedo, and with that the four of them rushed into the fray. But with her curse weighing down upon her, Lily could not risk exerting herself too much, and so it came as no surprise that she’d begun to lag behind them. On the bright side, that meant having a tactician’s view of the field. If there was aught she could do with what little she could bring to bear, this would be where she’d learn of it.

And if nothing else, nobody would be in a position to stop her.

Closing the distance one step at a time, she caught sight of a blinding blue streak of light as Estinien made his descent. Judging from his trajectory his target was not the primal, as he’d previously claimed, but the sphere of water entrapping Ascilia. Yet this deception seemingly amounted to naught, for the primal Minfilia deflected his piercing strike with the snath of her scythe, launching him back into the air. Tracing another six-starred constellation in the air, it swiftly took the form of Halone’s Spear—and with might critically quickened the primal unleashed twin beams of holy light, one right after the other.

Estinien twisted and bolted down through the air, evading the first beam with ease. But the second seemed aimed precisely where he was going—the space just above the sphere. With no recourse he was forced to unleash a red hot beam of draconic wrath to defend himself, the beams sparking as they clashed with one another. Yet the primal’s beam of light was the stronger by far, and quickly it began to engulf Estinien’s in its entirety. His feet now touching the edge of the water sphere, Estinien rocketed into the air once more, narrowly avoiding the beam of light as it tore through the air just above their party before dissipating entirely.

Without hesitation, Y’shtola launched into an attack of her own, launching a trio of powerful elemental spells—a barrage of boulders drawn and hewn from the ground, a tempestuous tornado whipped together from the very wind, and a flurry of fireballs summoned forth from her staff. Each and every projectile tore a path across the battlefield, converging on two points: The primal Minfilia and the watery prison holding their friend.

With one hand the towering goddess drew eight more stars in the air, taking the phantasmal form of the Ewer. Dispersing her scythe, she took the stellar vessel between her hands and flung its waters forward. And as they absorbed each and every projectile sent flying her way, she called the waters back into the Ewer before gazing heavensward.

Like a bloody shooting star, Estinien roared down from on high, his lance piercing through Ascilia’s prison and slamming hard with an explosive finish onto the ground below. In that same moment the last of Y’shtola’s magicks collided with it, tearing apart the already compromised prison until there was naught remaining but Ascilia herself. As she began to fall, Rubedo and Mikoto worked their conjury together, guiding her gently to the ground on a pocket of air.

“Thank you,” Ascilia huffed, struggling for a moment to stand before falling to one knee. “All of you… I’m so… glad to see you…”

“A commendable display of heroism,” the primal sighed, tipping the Ewer towards the party. As its waters began to spill forth, flooding down towards the party, her once stoic voice took on a haughty tone. “But this battle is over! By the waters of Thaliak, your end is come!”

As if to defend against the oncoming tide, Ascilia planted her shield firmly against the ground, ephemeral wings of light bursting forth to shield their allies from harm. But it was clear she’d exhausted her strength merely striving to survive, and without so much as a hint of ceremony the flowing waters washed over them all. It was only by dint of having fallen behind that Lily was spared their fate. For as the waters receded, drawn back into the Ewer’s spectral depths, it seemed all but Ascilia were gone—entrapped within the sacred vessel itself. And Ascilia herself had been rendered unconscious, it seemed, for she laid still upon the craggy surface of the arena.

Angered and terrified in equal measure, Lily bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Rushing forward, her body coursing with power fed by the flame in her heart, she tried to come to Ascilia’s aid. She had only just made it within a few fulms of her before that strength gave out, replaced by the overbearing pain of her curse. Her feet gave out from beneath her, bruising her skin as she hit the rocky floor of the arena.

Mustering the only strength she could manage, she pulled herself up just enough to watch Minfilia gloat.

“You should save your strength, our beloved,” she chided, flashing an ominously warm grin. “And savor your impending freedom. Once I have claimed my mortal half as my heart, I shall free you from your suffering.”

Lily grit her teeth, furious at the primal’s taunting words. At her own helplessness in the face of the inevitable. Instinctively she reached for the grenade Rubedo had made for her, but in her heart she knew it would accomplish nothing. There was nothing she could do but sit back, defeated, as the love of her life disappeared one last time.

Kneeling before her diminutive creator, Minfilia reached down to seize her. But her hand recoiled mere ilms from Ascilia’s body when a barrier suddenly erupted around her from three distinct points. One was a tiny ball of lightning, the second fire, and the third ice.

“WHAT—!” the primal snarled, curling her starry hands into fists. “Insignificant pests! How dare you!?”

“We won’t let you get away with hurting our boss!” the ball of lightning declared.

“Yeah! She still hasn’t helped us get new bodies yet!” the ball of fire complained.

“That’s what you’re concerned about!?” the ball of ice scoffed.

Watching as the Dream Stooges bickered amongst each other, much to the primal’s clear frustration, Lily was utterly flummoxed. She recalled Mikoto’s words earlier—the rock Ascilia had thrown, and the warning not to vocalize one’s plans. Such advice seemed utterly absurd on its face, and yet combined with the sight on display, suddenly everything clicked together.

Without hesitation she slipped the vial of poison Rubedo had made for her up to her lips, downing its contents in a single gulp.

Immediately the effects kicked in, halting the flow of Lily’s aether. If the pain of her curse felt like she was dying, then what she felt now could only be described as death itself. Her heart had all but stopped beating, the blood on her lips ceased to flow. And from what she could see, she had faded from sight entirely.

“You will not take our destiny away from us!” Minfilia bellowed, hammering upon the barrier with her starry fists. “I will have my heart! I must succeed Mother Hydaelyn, and guide all upon this star unto a brighter tomorrow!”

With every last dreg of strength she could muster, Lily forced herself to her feet. Slowly she dragged herself closer to the raging primal, every step measured and deliberate, punctuated by the primal’s furious blows and a sound not unlike glass cracking. First she passed by the body of her beloved Ascilia. Then beneath the primal’s arms, staring up into her exposed stomach. Completely unseen as she rained hell upon the Stooges’ faltering barrier.

Crouching down, a flame deep within Lily’s heart lit itself, her body ablaze with dark power. And with one final push, she leapt as hard as she could, piercing the primal’s form. Sinking into the depths of Minfilia’s very existence, the last thing she heard was a quiet, pained gasp from the would-be goddess.

***

Lily wasn’t certain what to expect when she made herself one with the primal Minfilia. She had been a part of such a being before—in the ruins of Elpis, where her ritual to embody Ifrit went awry. But Ifrita’s eyes had been her eyes, through which they saw the world around them together. Here she was not in control, not yet. Not until she asserted her will.

Here within Minfilia, the color and light of the stars was inverted, as was the darkness of the sunless sea. A void of light, full of impossibly small holes through which its incandescence shone. That void was the primal itself, surrounding her on all sides. Closing in, trying to force her back out into reality.

But Lily fought back with strength unseen, her will overpowering the nascent being. Slowly the incorporeal presence of the goddess converted itself into something her mind could process, gathering together in the shape of a woman she used to know. Unbound golden hair cascaded down her shoulders and white gown, the light in her glowing blue eyes fading until their natural silver hues were all that remained.

“You disappeared, just as you were meant to,” Minfilia told her. “But how did it come to this? How are you… here, within me?”

“You couldn’t see this coming, could you?” asked Lily. “Just like the Dream Stooges. We were… beneath your notice.” Reflecting on the moment of her triumph, Lily couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thank the Gods those bratty halfwits kept your attention, or you might’ve realized what I was up to.”

“Hah, yes. That poison of yours. Dearest Thancred’s design. You courted death just to stop me, as he did to stop Ran’jit.” With a soft sigh, Minfilia closed her eyes. Then, gripping her arms tightly, she lowered her head, averting her gaze entirely. “So much suffering because of us. So much death. I tired of it long ago, yet she will not listen. You fill her heart with visions of the life she’d always wanted, of the world she endeavored to bring about.”

Drawing closer to Minfilia, Lily lifted the would-be goddess by the chin. “She does listen to you, her doubts and worries and fears. More than she should, I think. I believe it speaks volumes of her faith in you that, in crafting the ritual to summon you into being, she made her heart’s desire yours as well.”

At this, Minfilia placed her hand over her heart, a bittersweet smile adorning her lips as she spoke. “Her sins, a blade to strike at her. Her shame, a cloak to beguile her. And her desire… to protect those she loves most. This star. Its myriad peoples. Her family, her friends. And you, most of all.”

“We will protect all she loves together,” Lily told her, wrapping her arms around the goddess and burying her head in the crook of her neck. “So you can let go now. Lay your worries to rest. Let her be Ascilia—or even Minfilia again, if she so desires.”

With a soft sniffle, the goddess nodded. “I will. Thank you.”

***

As she came to, Ascilia let out a pained groan. Between her near electrocution, both drowning attempts, and all the aether spent defending her party, she felt as if she’d truly hit her limit. Yet though she was exhausted beyond belief, as the reality of her plight came back to her she found herself surging to her feet, eager to take stock of the situation.

Her party had been swept aside, contained within a phantasmal representation of the Ewer. She could just barely make them out within the constellatory vessel, evidently kept safe by a reinforced pocket of elemental air. No doubt the product of Y’shtola, Mikoto, and Rubedo’s magicks.

Beside the ewer was her primal, the goddess Minfilia. At first she remained perfectly still, as if some sort of warmachina without a power source. Then, without warning, she stood up straight and unmade her cloak into a cloud of stardust and aether, revealing the naked whole of her cosmic form.

“There we go,” she boomed, giving her arms and back a long stretch. “Not as comfortable as Ifrita, but I won’t be staying long.”

“Ifrita…?” Realization struck Ascilia like a hastily thrown chunk of tin. “L-Lily!? How… why… what are you doing here!?”

“Saving the day, as only a Warrior of Light can,” the goddess teased, her form rippling as she snapped her fingers. In an instant the Ewer dissipated, her friends and allies falling gracefully to the ground within their pocket of air. “But in all seriousness, I couldn’t have done any of this without our friends to light the way. Or the Dream Stooges, for that matter. They’re a goodly sort—you were right to trust them.”

After relaying her beloved’s sentiments to her little passengers, Ascilia chuckled softly. “They’re rather pleased with themselves to hear that, hm hm. ‘Tis a pity they’ll be off on their own again soon—who knows what surprises they’d have in store for us if we took them to the Void?”

“Woah woah woah!” shouted the voice of flame, Curlax. “We can’t go back to the Void! Bea will have us for morning brunch!”

“Or evening linner!” exclaimed the voice of lightning, Moebius.

“Come on, boss, don’t tease us like that!” begged the voice of ice, Laragorn.

“Hm hm hm, I jest, of course.” With a delighted sigh, Ascilia turned her attention to her allies. “Everyone, thank you for accepting Mikoto’s call for aid. And Mikoto, thank you for putting my life above the promise I had you make. And for heeding your vision as well.”

“And what promise would that be?” asked Y’shtola, tilting her head. “What vision as well, for that matter?”

“In regards to your first question, I’m afraid I’m still sworn to secrecy,” said Mikoto, smiling sheepishly. “But as for my vision, I witnessed all that we experienced in the last moments of our fight with ‘Minfilia’. But as she revealed moments beforehand, if I thought to speak a word of my vision she would have never been taken by surprise. Thus I endeavored to have us labor in silence.”

“And a harrowing labor it was,” Estinien declared, crossing his shoulders. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve had my fill of primals for a lifetime.”

“Indeed,” Rubedo added, removing her visor to wipe her brow. “If I never have to fear drowning again, it shall be too soon.”

“I’m sorry, everyone,” Ascilia apologized, bowing her head. “‘Minfilia’ was born of the doubts I harbored concerning this new life of mine, and my worries and fears for a future without Hydaelyn’s guidance. It was these things most of all that made her such a terrifying foe to behold.” Then, turning her attention to the primal herself, she stretched out her arm and began drawing upon her aether. “Speaking of which, my beloved—do remove yourself from her as soon as you can. I wouldn’t want to seal you away in memoria, hm hm.”

As the goddess Minfilia’s essence began collapsing into loose scatterings of aether, Lily fell out from within her. Instantly Estinien darted beneath her, catching the hapless Viera in his arms. “You know, this is the third time I’ve had to come to your rescue. You ought to take better care of yourself.”

“Second time, I think,” Lily corrected him before slipping into a coughing fit. “Gods, but that poison really screwed me up inside. How the hells did Thancred manage to drink so much of it before?”

“Allow me to aid you, sister,” said Rubedo, drawing her sister’s maple crook and channeling her magicks. “May this blessing ease the weight of your burdens. Esuna!” As the spell took root within Lily, cleansing her of the poison’s effects, she slipped her visor onto her belt and sighed. “Perhaps I am not cut out for this mission unto the Void of yours. But I am certain all of you will do fine. You are among the most capable companions I have had the pleasure of knowing.”

“It has been a pleasure for myself as well,” Mikoto smiled as she bowed her head. “To meet and befriend the Archon Y’shtola, the Azure Dragoon, and the Antecedent of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and embark with them on a journey unto the Void itself—I could not have hoped for a better conclusion when Lily called upon me last night.”

“So you’ll be joining us as well, then?” asked Y’shtola, tapping her chin. “I suppose that brings us up to six. But an expert in aetherology might help us to shed light on some of the Void’s many mysteries, come to think of it.”

“I shall endeavor to please,” said Mikoto, before returning her attention to Ascilia. The loose aether that was once her primal had been fully gathered, coalescing into the form of a shining clear blue crystal. “So this, too, is a memoria? It doesn’t appear to be at all similar to the one formed from Garmr’s aether.”

“Indeed it is, and a Crystal of Light besides,” Ascilia declared, taking the crystal in her hands. “By my sacrifice, a warrior born, or so I’m told. A warrior for a new age—a Warrior of Dawn.” Then, letting the moment wash over her, she felt the onset of her fatigue once again. “Heavens, but I think I need a nap. Let’s see to removing your curse, my galbana lily, and then head back to rest.”

“Ah, I almost forgot!” said Mikoto, producing the stone of Azem. “I understand this stone allows the bearer to call upon allies from any distance. But if you don’t mind me asking, Lily, how exactly do I send you and everyone else back?”

“Oh,” Lily blurted out, looking somewhat sheepishly at her from Estinien’s arms. “You can’t. Our calling took place on the same plane of existence as you, so it brought us over in whole, meaning…”

“We’re all stuck up here on Khadga’s Summit,” said Estinien, setting Lily down on her feet. “It’s a long and difficult walk back to civilization.”

“Not necessarily,” Y’shtola chimed in, motioning to Estinien. “As the Azure Dragoon, you can travel over Thavnair’s mountainous terrain with ease. Once at the city’s gates, you need only use the stone to call us to your side.”

“And how exactly do I do that?” asked Estinien, tilting his head. “I’ve never used such a device before.”

“There’s no time like the present to learn,” Lily remarked, before shaking her head. “But maybe we should leave it up to someone with experience using it.”

“I’ll go,” said Ascilia, pattering her chest with her free hands. “Once I’ve removed Lily’s curse, of course. And assuming Ser Estinien does not mind carrying me in his arms back to the city, hm hm.”

“Mh,” Estinien grumbled. “Fair warning—the rapid ascent can be startling for a first time flier.”

***

Soaring through the air in the arms of the Azure Dragoon, Ascilia clutched the stone of Azem tightly to her breast and let out a long, contented sigh. Though the wind’s chill was bitingly cold, the growing warmth inside her was more than enough for her. For the first time since her return, she felt completely at peace with herself. The voices of doubt within her mind had at last fallen silent, and in their place was a calm acceptance of the present and hope for the future.

Her beloved Lily was free from her curse. Her budding friendship with Mikoto had only been strengthened by today’s trials. And though she knew not when they would begin their traversal of the Void, nor what difficulties they would face therein, as the Warrior of Dawn she was ready and willing to face them head on.

Indeed, for the first in a long while, she could feel only joy in being alive.