7.

Nia was standing in front of her sister's casket, looking down at her corpse.

She looked...peaceful. So much like Nia herself. Pale, surrounded by the flowers that Nia had picked for her to say goodbye. She seemed almost...happy. A small smile played across her face, and the bright sunlight pouring through the window made it seem almost as if she was just napping in a bed of flowers. But she was gone. The sister Nia had known her whole life, that she had cared for, laughed with, loved with, would never open her eyes again.

Guilt tore through Nia, like a tidal wave. She had been...born to try to help her sister. And she had failed. The one thing she had been meant to do, for the driver who had been so kind to her, who had treated her like a member of the family, who had always treated her well, shown her so much love, and she had failed.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and knew it was her driver. She didn't turn around to face him. She could feel his grief, pouring off him in waves, even before she could hear his wracked sobs.

"Oh, Nia," he whispered, and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. He had been drinking heavily since his daughter had passed away. "Oh, why couldn't you help her?"

Nia felt hot tears spring to her face, and the world spun around her. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed. She spun around, trying to embrace her driver. But she found he was a figure of smoke and shadow, slipping through her arms, flickering, reforming a few feet away from her. She could feel the disappointment, the disdain he had for her flowing to her through her ether bond, and it cut through her like a knife.

"Didn't you love her?" the shadowy figure of her driver asked, grief thick in his voice. "Oh, she adored you, Nia..."

Nia sank to her knees, her head filling with gray fog. The world felt flat, unreal, beneath the magnitude of her grief. "I did, I did love her, I tried, I'm sorry, I know I'm bad, please-"

The shadowy figure sighed, falling into a rich, velvet sofa that decorated the mourning room, putting its head in its hands, its shoulders hitching with sobs for what seemed like an eternity. He doesn't love me anymore, Nia thought to herself. And why would he? How could he?

"There's nothing left," the shadowy figure murmured finally, lifting his head up, staring at her with two eyes that were piercing, cold lights in the darkness. "Nothing left but her memory. And even that will fade, eventually. No one will remember my precious little girl."

"I will! I swear I will, I swear, I'll always remember her-" but even as Nia's words tumbled from her mouth, she knew this was a lie. She was a blade. She'd forget as soon as her driver died. Forget everything. Never even know that her sister had ever existed. Fresh tears flowed from her eyes as the realization dawned on her. She didn't want to forget. She wanted to remember her sister, forever. "Oh Architect, I'm so awful, I'm so sorry..."

The shadowy figure was silent for a long time. "There...is a way. A way for you to remember her forever." And the room around him grew darker, the shadows lengthening.

"There is….? Yes! Yes, I'll do it, whatever it is, please, I don't want to forget her." Nia stretched her hand out towards the shadow, not noticing the growing darkness. I want you to love me again.

The shadowy figure stared at her, as the room sank into darkness, melting into it, his eyes two beacons, like twin candle flames in the dark, that eventually winked out.

You sick nothing.

Nia slowly turned around. The world was complete darkness around her. All except for her sister's casket. Nia watched in horror as her sister's hand suddenly shot up, gripping the side, pulling herself out of the casket.

Only...she didn't look as she had before. Her white funeral dress was soaked red with blood, draining down from a large, wet spot on her chest. And her face...it didn't look like her sister's either. Oh, it was her sister's face, alright. But on it was an expression of disgust, hatred, that her sister's had never worn.

"You selfish, sick animal," her sister said, stepping down from the casket, walking towards where Nia knelt, frozen, in the middle of the void. "It wasn't enough that you killed me. You also had to kill your father, too. After all he had done for you."

"I didn't kill Da'!" Nia cried, scrambling backwards, away from her sister. "He...he drank himself to death, he..."

"Oh? And you couldn't have stopped that?" Her sister's face contorted into a twisted sneer. "With me, you had an excuse. But with him, you had all the power in the world at your fingertips to heal. All that healing you supposedly love to do. And you couldn't save him."

"I...I didn't know how!" Nia sobbed, her vision blurring with tears. "I swear, I would have if I could, I loved him! I loved you both so much! You don't…." Nia clutched her core crystal. It was as if pain and guilt and despair were radiating to her directly from it. "You have no idea how much I loved you," she whispered.

"Excuses. Always making excuses." Nia's sister stepped closer to her, jabbing an accusing finger toward her. "It's not enough that you killed us both. Now you want to forget us, too."

"I don't, I swear, I never want to forget you-"

"Don't LIE to me," Nia's sister roared, her voice a thousand howls of hungry wolves, the world shaking around her in a quake from her rage. "Don't lie to yourself. I've seen it. You've made some new friends. And you have someone you think you love."

In the darkness behind her, smoke rose, billowing. As it cleared, Rex appeared, a small smile on his face, staring off into nothing. Nia's sister turned to consider this, her arms crossed. "You want to forget us, and think that you actually deserve to be happy," she whispered softly. "You want to let him love you, and think that you're going to do anything other than hurt him. You don't really love him. If you did, you'd leave the poor boy alone."

Nia finally forced herself to her feet, her legs shaking beneath her. "N-no. Maybe I am selfish. Maybe I am an awful person. Maybe...it would be better if...I just left Rex alone. But I wouldn't hurt him."

Nia's sister turned to face her, her eyes now howling pits of shadow. "But you already have. Through your failures. You killed Vandham."

Nia clenched her fists, steeling herself, closing her eyes. Finally, she opened them, staring down this….thing. It wasn't her sister. It couldn't be. "N-no," she said, uncertain at first, but then gaining more determination. "No. I didn't. And I didn't kill you, either. Or Da'. I...maybe I could...have done more, for Vandham. If I hadn't been so scared. But I didn't kill him." She lifted her head, remembering Morag's words to her. She wasn't crazy, or selfish. She had friends who had told her it wasn't her fault, and...she believed them. At least, she thought she did.

Nia's sister stared at her for a long, long time. "How dare you," she whispered, finally. "You really do want to forget me. After telling father that you wanted to remember. His final wish was just for me to be remembered, and you can't even keep that one simple promise. How can you live with yourself?"

Guilt tore through Nia once more, and she looked down, gasping, as the world spun around her yet again, despair, sadness washing through her like a wave.

"How can you possibly bear to go on, knowing the things you've done? The complete failure you are? How petty, selfish, ugly you are? You don't deserve to live, let alone to have happiness. Why don't you do the one good thing you possibly could do, and end it-"

"Stop," Nia muttered. She looked up at her sister, her eyes flashing defiantly. "No. Stop it. Stop."

Nia's sister fell silent, and considered her for a long moment, tilting her head. Finally, she looked back toward Rex. "Such a noble boy," she whispered. "So ready to sacrifice himself for the greater good. You really know how to pick them, Nia."

Suddenly, the darkness shifted, and there, standing behind Rex, in his glittering black armor, was Malos, cruel smirk playing across his face. It grew as Nia watched, contorting into a wicked grin, sharp, monstrous teeth revealed behind it.

"You can't save him, you know," Nia's sister murmured. "No more than you could save me. Or father."

Suddenly Rex turned around to face Malos, a bright, innocent smile growing across his face. With a burst of black flame, a dark sword appeared in Malos' hands. He rose it, slowly, deliberately, above his head, black flame dripping from his eyes, his open, monstrous mouth.

"No, no. No." Nia tried stepping forward, but found her feet rooted to the ground. "No, for Architect's sake, stop, stop-"

"He's going to die screaming, and he'll thank Malos for the opportunity. Even if you think you deserve happiness, the Architect and the world know you don't. And they'll take everything from you."

Malos' sword flashed down, and Rex's body crumpled to the ground at his feet.

"No," Nia gasped, struggling to move forward. "Let me...let me, I can heal him, I can-"

"You can't do anything." Nia's sister said, walking toward her. With every step she took, she grew larger, taller than Nia, taller than a house, hundreds of feet tall, the whole world. "You never could. You'll let him die, just like you let me die. Like you let father die. Because you fail everyone you love, and you kill them. And I won't ever, ever let you forget it."

And suddenly, the world froze. Smoke curled upwards at the edges of Nia's vision. With a mighty roar, a massive wave of flame washed over everything, white-hot, orange, yellow blossoms, washing away everything, burning away everything, and the flame curled around Nia but did not burn her, howling, hissing, sputtering-

And when the flame cleared, there was nothing but darkness once more. Nothing but darkness, and Pyra. The Aegis stared down at Nia with sad, mournful, pitying eyes.

Nia struggled to her feet once more, still unsteady, guilt and despair and sadness still roiling within her. She shook her head, trying to clear it, then glared up at Pyra. "You," she spat. "Was it...how dare you. How dare you show me those things...oh, Architect..." she clutched her chest, spinning around as she was unable to stop the tears from falling. It hurt, it all hurt so much.

"I didn't show you anything," Pyra said softly, approaching her. "That...was all your own mind. I'm so sorry, Nia."

"Don't you look," Nia gasped, her mind buzzing. Rage, shame, horror, guilt, all roiled within her, making it nearly impossible to think. "How...how dare you spy on me..." She put her hands to her face. "Stop crying, you stupid idiot," she muttered to herself. She growled, stomping away, when Pyra reached out to touch her shoulder. "Don't you...don't….go away..."

Pyra stood, quietly, her head bowed, as Nia wrapped her arms around herself, breathing heavily, heaving as the emotions roiled through her, until she could think somewhat clearly once more. She scrubbed her eyes furiously, hiding the tears, until she spun around to face Pyra once more. "Get...get out, Pyra," she snapped. "Stop coming into my dreams."

Pyra looked up, her eyes full of so much despair it actually made Nia pause. "I'm sorry, Nia. I really am. I wouldn't come to you if I didn't think I had to. But...Mythra's in control, Jin's dreams are too guarded to make my way into...I have a connection to Malos, but he's shut me out, I keep trying...you're the only one I can reach."

"And why would you want to reach me?"

Pyra was quiet for a moment, looking down at the blank void between her feet. "I...the reason Mythra...constructed me...was so that she could...cut herself off. I can only use a fraction of her power. But in return, I only feel...a fraction of what she feels. By choking off the connection, I don't...feel the awful suffering of the world the way she does." She raised a hand to her core crystal, closing her eyes. "It...gives me the ability to be...disciplined. To be the calm she needs. The clear thinking she needs. But now that she's….inhabiting the body….oh, Nia, she can feel everything."

"...What is it she's feeling? What are you talking about?" Nia asked, cautiously.

Pyra looked up at her, despairing, as if she couldn't properly understand. "Mythra...she has a connection to the world. We both do, but hers is much deeper. She can...I couldn't possibly make you understand. Everything….everything you felt in your dream. Imagine feeling that, a hundred times, almost all the time. I can only see a shadow of it, but even that..." Pyra shook her head. "It's...she can't live like this. She...can't hold on."

Nia didn't know what to say. Pyra had her arms wrapped around herself, shivering, quaking. This….Nia had thought of Mythra and Pyra as the same person, but it seemed more and more like they were actually separate entities.

"I'm so sorry to put this burden on you," Pyra whispered miserably. "I...know you have troubles of your own. And I won't lecture you on how you choose to live, who you choose to make connections to. It's just, I share memories, feelings...even thoughts, with Mythra, to some extent...and I...she can't bear this world. It's driving her to sickness. I'm so afraid." She looked up, tears rolling down her face. "Just...please, tell Malos not to hesitate to stop her."

Nia, despite herself, managed to summon a small, wry smile. "What makes you think he ever would?"

"He already is," Pyra whispered. "You really don't know him, Nia. How he was during the Aegis War. He would do anything, anything to stop me. If he wasn't hesitating, he'd be hunting me right now." Her eyes bored into Nia's, and Nia could see the fear, the horror and sadness there. "Do you understand? He has to be ready. Mythra...her thoughts, they're…."

Suddenly, the void around them was banished, as if by the flick of a switch, and a burning, liquid golden light surrounded them, pouring in from everywhere.

"She's looking this way," Pyra cried. She reached a hand out to Nia, even as Nia felt herself being torn away through the endless expanse of light. "Tell Malos! Tell him to be on guard!"

Nia awoke, gasping, thrashing about in her bed. Her core crystal burned in her chest, like a hot coal. Dromarch lay across her, keeping her from thrashing herself straight of the bed, shouting her name.

Slowly, the panic faded from Nia, as she realized where she was. She was in one of the apartments on Fan's spacious ship, all the walls a creamy shell-white, moonlight pouring in through the window as they cruised silently across the Cloud sea. She felt exhausted, her face wet with tears, her body drained, aching from the adrenaline that had been pumping through her system, feeling hollow and numb. Her arms snaked around Dromarch, gripping his fur as he nuzzled into her. "Oh Architect, Dromarch," she whispered. "I just want it to stop."

She squeezed him tight, breathing into the scent of his fur, until the storm of feelings within her subsided a bit. After an hour or so, she found herself unable to get back to sleep, still. "Ugh," she muttered eventually. "Just want a good night's sleep, and look what I have to put up with."

She gently prodded Dromarch, moving him off of her, and got out of bed, standing on shaking, unsteady legs. She sighed as she stepped into her jumpsuit, zipping it up, pulling her boots on.

"Where is my lady going?" Dromarch yawned, tail flicking curiously. "It's still barely past midnight."

"I just...I want some fresh air. Just….gotta clear my head, is all."

"Would you like me to accompany you?"

Nia smiled ruefully. She knew what Dromarch was thinking. He had been extremely protective of her ever since she had run off in Fonsa Myma. It...she could never be truly angry at Dromarch. But it would be a lie to say it didn't get on her nerves, sometimes. "No, no, it's alright. I'll be back soon enough."

Nia left her room, breathing in the cool night hair, calming as it filled her lungs. The moon hung low, huge in the sky, casting its pale blue light over the cloud sea, which extended in all directions to the horizon. The movement of Fan's ship was barely perceptible.

She walked along the wooden deck, trailing her hands across the smooth, carved surfaces of the arched overhang casting shadows above her. Flowers were woven around the poles, pink and yellow.

"Ah, you couldn't sleep either, huh?"

Nia yelped, nearly jumping out of her skin, at the voice coming from just a foot behind her. She spun around to glare at Rex, who was having a hard time holding in his laughter. "Oh...Oh man. You jumped like three feet there. That's actually impressive."

"What do you think you're doing, sneaking up on me?" she snapped, recovering.

"It was just perfect timing. My cabin's right there." Rex turned around, pointing to the open door behind him. "I just opened the door and boom, you were right there."

Nia sighed, folding her arms. "Well, why can't you sleep?"

"I dunno, really." Rex scratched his head, then shrugged. "I keep having nightmares. I can never remember them, though. Just wake up with blood pumping and can't get back to sleep." As he usually did, Rex sounded glibly unconcerned about this all. Nia wished he'd be a bit more introspective sometimes – maybe ask why he was having the nightmares. But on the other hand...it was something she kind of appreciated about him. Rex would never make a mountain out of a molehill. "What about you?"

Nia's eyes widened, and she looked away. "Ah. You know. Same thing. Nightmares. Can't remember, and all that. Yeah." She found herself unable to look at Rex. The guilt, the shame, the horror of her nightmare...she was...too numb from the pain of it to feel those things anymore. And she had been telling herself the past hour that it was just a silly nightmare. Though she didn't know what Pyra had meant when she showed up. But she...didn't want to think about what it meant for her fears regarding Rex. Not right now.

Rex raised an eyebrow at her, dubiously. "Well, c'mon. I found a cool spot to relax at when I can't sleep."

Rex led her around the ship, climbing up a ladder to the top deck. It was bathed completely in moonlight, and in the center of the deck, otherwise bare, were a pair of lounging chairs. It offered an amazing view of the night sky, the thousands of stars winking at them through the moonlit night, and off in the distance, a faint green glow, the World Tree.

Rex kicked back, laying across one of the lounging chairs, and Nia took the one next to him. They both stared at the night sky in silence, the stars streaming down at them. Nia glanced over at Rex. He was absorbed completely in the night sky.

"You know," Rex said quietly, after a moment, "Some salvagers….they've found stuff from other civilizations, yeah? Old ones. Really old ones, nobody knows where from. But they've found stuff that shows that those civilizations...they used to travel to the stars. There's other worlds out there, other planets, and we used to go to them. I wonder about that, a lot, when I'm up here."

Nia was quiet for a long moment. "Well, I wonder whether Fan comes up here to sunbathe naked," she said slyly.

"What," Rex said, blushing furiously.

Nia laughed. Messing with Rex always cheered her up. "Well I mean, come on. She has this big ship, she's out on the Cloud Sea all alone, days at a time. Seems like a good time to work on a full-body tan, you know?"

"You are so dirty-minded. I'm sure miss Fan doesn't do anything of the sort."

"Oh, come on. Nothing dirty about a little nude sunbathing." Nia put her hands behind her head, stretching out as she leaned back. "I mean, I'd do it."

Rex's blush grew even deeper, and he looked away.

Nia leaned over, grinning mischievously. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?"

"Am not," Rex muttered. He glared over at her, then resolutely pinned his gaze on the night sky. "I'm thinking about stars."

"Pfft. Yeah, sure. The stars are turning your face all red like that."

"Hmmph. You know, if you really want to do that, you might get your chance in Leftheria. There are some beaches where folks go nude there."

"Oh, that so? You ever been to one?"

Rex shot her a mischievous smirk. "I may have," he said airily.

Now it was Nia's turn to blush. "Oh, shut up. No you haven't."

"What's the matter? Thinking about it?"

Nia laughed, looking at Rex while he beamed at her. She thought back to her dream. Of Malos' sword flashing down, of Pyra telling her to tell Malos to be ready, and frowned, looking down. Maybe...it would be best if she didn't tell Malos anything at all. She shivered, suddenly.

"Ah, yeah. It can get a bit brisk out here at night." Rex reached beneath his lounge chair, producing a folded blanket. "I bought this up here to stay warm. Here."

"Oh. Thanks." Nia took the blanket, spreading it out. "But now you don't have anything."

"Ahhh, I'm fine, really."

"Oh, will you shut up. I can see you shivering. We can share it, just c'mon, push these chairs together..."

Dromarch prowled the ship, his eyes wide in the darkness, glancing around, sniffing. Nia had never come back to her room, and so he had gone looking for her, following her scent. It led him upwards, towards the top deck of the ship. He glanced at the ladder with disdain, drew himself in, his muscles twitching with energy, and with one mighty, graceful leap, cleared the length of the ladder, landing silently on the top deck.

He glanced around. There Nia was. She was with Rex. As he approached, he could see they were both wrapped up beneath a shared blanket, laying on lounge chairs pushed together to make a makeshift bed. They were both sleeping, Nia resting her head on Rex's chest, while Rex had his arms wrapped around her, both snoring softly.

"Hmmmph," Dromarch growled to himself. He padded around in circles at the foot of their little makeshift bed, tail flicking back and forth, then finally curled up into a ball, sighing, and closed his eyes.

8.

The ride through the Cloud Sea on Fan's barge was a smooth, comforting one. Unlike the loud, roaring engines and modified Titans of Ardainian craft, designed purely for power, the Indoline craft was designed to make the ride a pleasant experience, and the Titan powering the ship was encased at the core, within a shell, no wires or cables attached – Haze would visit it, murmuring softly to it, feeding it, and it seemed happy to go wherever she directed it.

Morag spent her days gazing longingly across the cloud sea, back in the direction of Mor Ardain. It seemed so...surreal, what had happened while she was there. She had known things were bad, but...it was like she had come back just in time to see the death throes of the republic. It was probably no coincidence, of course. Brionac had probably been waiting for her to come back so they could make an attempt on her life as well.

But still. To be there in Mor Ardain, to see all the ugliness and horror, to see those butchers rise to power, and then to leave her little brother alone there, with them...she should have insisted on staying. She really should have. Or….or maybe even….just take Niall, and abandon Mor Ardain. It would have killed her inside, to have left her country at the complete mercy of those lunatics. But there was no solution, and if she had just taken Niall with her, at least she'd be able to ensure her little brother was safe.

Going off, to chase after Elysium, instead...did her brother honestly believe that going after Elysium was a good course of action? Well, of course he did. He had told her that he believed it was, and Niall wouldn't lie to her. Still, it seemed all...too strange, to Morag. Yes….Malos was the Aegis, certainly, and he swore that Elysium was real, and that they could get there. But it still seemed all too much like myth, to Morag. It still felt like she was abandoning her brother in his time of need to go chasing after fairy tales.

Speaking of her brother…

Morag glanced down the deck of the ship. Nia stood with her arms crossed, talking with Poppi and Pandy, looking slightly annoyed. It looked like Pandy was trying to convince Nia to try on her small hat. "It looks daft," Nia snapped at her, as Morag watched on impassively.

Morag...still hadn't properly thanked Nia for saving her brother. She had given her a restrained, silent thank you, certainly. But the truth was...Morag wasn't certain how to talk to Nia anymore. She was so much in her debt. Nia had healed her, bought her back from being battered and bruised within an inch of her life, even while they had been enemies. And now, she had healed her brother. No, more than simply healed. The girl might downplay it, but Morag had seen the wounds in her brother's chest up close. And Aegaeon...poor Aegaeon had retreated back into his crystal. Blades didn't do that when their drivers were merely 'hurt.' Niall had to have been a mere hair's breadth from death when Nia healed him. There was nothing, nothing Morag could ever do to thank Nia enough.

She had tried talking to Brighid about it. Her blade and the young Gormotti girl….they seemed to have gotten closer during their time in Alba Cavanich. Morag had been slightly surprised by this. Brighid...she knew Brighid well. Brighid was mature, graceful, reserved and disciplined by nature. Methodical. Nia had always struck Morag as a more...passionate, rough and tumble type. Perhaps a bit immature, with how she liked to tease Rex. She hadn't thought that the two would necessarily get along so well. Brighid had only told her that what Nia needed more than anything was friends.

Morag sighed, looking back out across the Cloud Sea. She would have to do her best to try talking to Nia once more. Right now….it felt shameful how much in debt she was to the girl.

"Hey, Morag. How are you holding up?"

Morag glanced to her side. It was Zeke, who had taken up the spot next to her, leaning over the railing, gazing out across the Cloud Sea as she was.

"It could be better, I suppose," Morag sighed, looking back out at the endless expanse of gray fog. Zeke...had a way of getting on her nerves. He had ever since they were children, really. To Morag, he had always seemed like everything royalty should not be – unserious, carefree. Getting himself banished, and not caring about his duty. And going on to live like a mercenary – royalty, peddling itself as mercenary, to the highest bidder, instead of serving the people of his nation. It had always gotten on Morag's nerves. But…

"Zeke," she said, quietly, not looking over at him, "I...wanted to apologize to you."

He looked over at her, his one good eye widening in surprise. "Apologize? To me? What for?"

"I...was always harsh with you. I...how you had been banished...I didn't, I guess I couldn't imagine how a government could ever go so wrong that its own royalty might...abandon it." Morag shook her head, ruefully. "Now I know. It was wrong of me to judge you so harshly. Sometimes, there really are good reasons for royalty to...disobey, to disagree. To leave."

"Oh, that!" Zeke crossed his arms, smiling. "Honestly, think nothing of it. I was far more insulted when you trash talked my swordsmanship."

Morag smiled at the memory. How, as a teenager, fed up with Zeke's antics, she had belittled and derided his fighting form. Not yet understanding that large, heavy weaponry, such as Zeke's massive greatsword, required a much different style of fighting than the nimble, quick blades she was training with. To this day, fighting with such large weapons still seemed strange to Morag – using the weight, the momentum of the heavy blade to conserve your own energy, almost like you were being dragged around the battlefield by the weapon itself. But she knew enough about it to know Zeke was very, very good. Perhaps the best there ever was. "Well, I was wrong about that, as well."

"Hah! Well. They don't call me Thunderbolt Zeke for nothing."

"Ugh. I can't believe that one actually caught on."

"Oh, like you don't have a dramatic nickname of your own, 'Flamebringer.'" Zeke chuckled, then turned to her, scratching his chin. "You know, Morag. I never really thought of my banishment as...abandoning my people, or anything. And I mean...the banishment had really just been the icing on the cake. I had already considered leaving before that."

"But why?" Morag eyed him curiously. "Is it just that you don't want to have the responsibility of royalty?"

"Not at all. I wanted nothing more than to help my people. But I saw that the only way to help them was to try to convince father to give up his foolish ways. Tantal suffers because of her isolation. But the dynasty has always preferred to stay hidden below the clouds while the world crumbles around them." Zeke shook his head sadly. "I...eventually I realized I was never going to get father to change his mind. I tried going around him, and...failed there too. There was nothing I could do to change Tantal. And even when I became King, the way things currently are...there would have still been nothing I could do. All I could have ever done in Tantal was watch my people suffer and eventually just get used to the idea. So...honestly, the banishment came at a convenient time. Gave me a good excuse to just go."

"But...how does being a mercenary help your people, in any way?"

Zeke shrugged. "Well...it doesn't, necessarily. Not directly. But before I was a mercenary, I came and lived with you, remember? Living in Mor Ardain...well, before it all went rotten, it gave me an idea of what other, more functional governments could look like. And traveling the world as a mercenary...I got to see how other places worked. Uraya has a weak monarchy, where the Queen honestly doesn't do all that much, and the people mostly take care of themselves. But it seems to work out for them pretty well. Indol has an absolute monarchy, but that seems to work good for them as long as they have someone competent like Amalthus on the throne." He gazed out wistfully across the clouds. "I do...plan on returning home, some day. And I hope all the things I've seen give me the knowledge to help make a change. My point is, you don't have to feel like you're abandoning Mor Ardain. Things are...bad there. As bad as I have ever seen. But there was nothing you could do to change it. Traveling the world...maybe one day you can return, with the things you've learned, and...help restore the Empire back to sanity."

Morag was quiet for a long moment. "That is...surprisingly mature of you, Zeke," she murmured. It was yet another surprise, for her. Zeke had actually managed to make her feel better. Although, even more than she wished that she could have helped her country, she wished she could have ensured her brother's safety. "It is hard to see how things could be made better, though."

"I wouldn't give up hope. Much more than Tantal, Mor Ardain is a place of change. Not always the best change, true. But change. It may seem bad, with Brionac leading a coup right now." Zeke shook his head, a look of disgust crossing his face. "But who knows. Five years from now, Brionac could have fallen from grace, and it might be much easier to hold them accountable for the crimes they've committed. That's Mor Ardain, for you. She never sits still."

Morag shook her head, thinking to herself. Five years. Five years of her brother sitting in that pit of snakes. Five years of Brionac conducting whatever insane wars it wanted. Five long years for them to cause whatever damage they could. Maybe things would have always been better if Mor Ardain had been more of an absolute monarchy, like Indol, rather than a republic with a monarch and a Senate. Still...it was a more hopeful way of looking at things than she had recently been. She gave a small smile. "Well. Thank you, Zeke. I suppose all I can do right now is look for the silver lining."

"That's the spirit. Didn't want to see you moping over here the whole trip. How about we grab some lunch?"

Morag sighed once more, stepping back from the railing. It was true that she hadn't had much of an appetite lately. She supposed if she was going to follow her brother's wishes, and help Rex find his way to Elysium, she ought to be responsible and keep up her strength.

As they walked to the dining room, passing by Pandy, Zeke playfully reached out and pinched her butt. His blade responded with a surprised 'Eep!', then grinned at him and poked him in his abs.

Morag watched this with some interest as they continued strolling on their way to the dining room. "You know, Zeke, I'm curious," she said. "Brighid tells me that you and Pandy, are, ah…." She made a complicated gesture with her hands.

"What…? What's that? What is that supposed to be?" Zeke smirked at her. "Is….is that how you think it works?"

"I know how it works," snapped Morag. "You know what I mean."

Zeke rolled his one good eye. "Honestly, Morag, you really are oblivious to this sort of thing. You had to have Brighid tell you? Isn't it obvious? Of course we are."

Morag absorbed this in silence. Blade-human romantic relationships were...looked down on in much of the world. In some parts of the world, they were so looked down on that it could get an angry mob calling for your head if they suspected something. Although it still seemed to happen often enough. Morag supposed that made sense. Blades and humans shared a close connection, so it was only natural that many people would feel tempted to become romantic with their blade, but at the same time it was likely to be looked down on, since blades and humans could not have children, and too much of it might cause a decline in birth rates, particularly among people who were predisposed to be drivers, who were always a valuable resource for any nation. And she knew for a fact that Tantal was one of the places it was looked down on in particular. Zeke had never told her the circumstances behind his banishment. She wonder if his philandering with Pandoria had anything to do with it.

9.

Malos stood in the imperial square of Auresco, royal capital of Torna, as all around him, the city burned. Pillars of flame erupted from the sloping, curved rooftops of the palace, the delicate red shingles bursting, exploding in the heat, sending showers of sparks cascading down into the sand gardens. Everything twisting, warped through a shimmering haze of oppressive heat.

He looked around himself. There was Lora, held in Jin's arms, Jin projecting an aura of cold to fight back the heat that would otherwise burn the humans in minutes, Haze, laying a healing hand on her forehead. Hugo, Aegaeon and Brighid, as well, all holding their blades, blood pouring down Hugo's young face from a gash in his forehead. And there, next to him, Addam and Minoth. All were staring defiantly upward. Malos followed their gaze.

At the top of one of Auresco's spires, already halfway consumed by roaring flame, shining like a radiant star, was Mythra. She smile beatifically down upon the burning city, upon the group gathered to oppose her in the imperial square. Her eyes were an awful, mad storm of defiance and joy.

"O, Torna," she cried, her voice booming out, loud and clear, carrying across the city. "You thought you could hide from your past. Hide from your sin. How, for centuries, you terrorized the world, holding it hostage under threat of annihilation from your Titan, which history and circumstance blessed you with. Oh, wicked Torna, only yielding in your brutality once you no longer needed it: Having claimed your perch at the top of the world, you deluded yourselves, claiming moral superiority by putting away your weapon. But what need does a murderer have for his blade anymore, when he's killed all who would defy him, and all that are left are those cowed into submission? You claim to be better than you once were, while all the world still lives under the veil of fear you cast upon it. But I do not fear you, Torna. I bring judgment to your wicked land. The world will be better without you." And she raised her sword of burning white flame to the sky, which tore itself open, beams of burning white light descending onto the city, tearing it apart.

Addam winced as the explosions rocked the square, struggling to stay on his feet. "How can you believe that?!" he shouted, once he had recovered. "We've been at peace for years – centuries! How can you think you're making the world better by killing all these innocent people?!"

Mythra looked down from the tower. "Innocence," she cried. "Peace. I can see the darkness that hides behind those words. Innocence of the comfortable, whose ancestors purchased their comfort with oceans of blood. Peace whose foundations are terror and submission. Where is the justice for the faceless, forgotten dead?" She placed a hand over her chest, smiling. "I can see the darkness that other humans see when they look at your nation. But unlike them, I have the power to burn that darkness away. The world can be made so beautiful without you in it."

"You're a lunatic," Jin cried out, dark circles beneath his eyes. "This world...it's not perfect. It needs change. But this is just slaughter."

"How do you suppose change happens?" Mythra's laugh was long, haunting. "If I asked the wicked, please stop, do you suppose they would listen? You must excise the poison at it source. Burn it all away." She peered down at them, smiling. "Ah. My wayward wolf of a brother. You should be here, by my side. Together, we could make this world so much better. It must be Father's will. Why else would he have sent us here?"

"He sent me here," Malos heard himself say, "To annihilate you, Mythra. I've never been more certain of anything. I'm going to grind you to dust and send you screaming into the Void."

Mythra's eyes widened, for once, with fear, her smile disappearing. "My poor, sweet brother," she said, her voice low, quieter than it had been. "You were not meant to understand this world. You were made to contemplate things beyond it. I cannot pretend to understand you. You should return to Elysium. Do what you were made for. Father could not have intended you for this."

Malos felt his face growing a wicked grin. "I don't need to understand this world completely, to rip you from it. Understanding can come later," he hissed, and black flame boiled around him, tearing forth, through the air, a long, jagged line, landing where Mythra was perched at the top of the tower. She only managed to dodge just in time, leaping down from the tower, to one of the lower palace garden roofs. Where the black flame touched, there was a small, tiny whine that grew in pitch for half a second, before reality imploded in on itself, flashing black and white, tearing half the tower into a singular point that then disappeared, with the awful shriek of cracking, warping, splintering wood. But...a small, black hole, like a tear in the substance of reality itself, lingered behind where the tower had been.

Mytha watched this, her joyous expression fading to one of concern. She glanced down at Addam. "I hope you know just what you've unleashed in your selfish quest to avoid judgment," she said, softly, her expression blank, unamused. "Of the Three, Logos was always the most alien to your kind. I love him, even now, but I know what he is. He will devour and disassemble to find his Holy, Blasphemous Truth." She tilted her head to the side, staring at Malos. "I don't think there's anything he'd leave untainted, if that was what it took."

"Silence, Pneuma, and stop with the theatrics," Malos drawled. He raised his blade, a whirling, black series of jagged black metal, rotating around a black, lightless core. "Face me. Face the Void. Face my judgment."

Mythra was silent for a moment, the only sound the crackling burning of the city around them. "Very well," she said, finally. "Meet me at the Titan's core. There we will determine Father's true will. And once I am done, I will set you gently back in your seat at Elysium. And I will return to purge this world of its wicked." And she raised her arms to the sky, growing brighter and brighter, until, with a crack like lightning, she was gone.

"Well, you heard her," Malos snarled to the group around him. "To the Titan's core. Let's finish this. I'm hungry to see her get what's coming to her."

Jin glanced at Addam, pausing for a moment. "Pneuma? Logos? The Three?" he asked, questioningly.

Malos waved his hand. "Irrelevancies. It would take too long to explain. I can tell you afterwards."

Jin was quiet for a moment. Then he gave a small smile, grasping Malos' hand. "Alright. Let's finish this, then." As he did, the world filled with smoke, fading, fading...

Malos opened his eyes, slowly, as the vision faded. He sat up in his bed, staring curiously at his hands.

He had never dreamed before. When he slept, he usually retreated into his mind, to the place where the Void lived within him, to contemplate its mysteries. But now, for some reason, his mind had chosen to replay these memories to him.

He looked out the window. Dawn had just begun to rise over the Cloud sea. Cold, orange, pink light stained the clouds a cacophony of color. It must still have been fairly early.

Malos swung his legs over the side of the bed, drew in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then interrogated his own mind. He was not human, he could see the...pieces, of what made his mind him. And he wanted to know what had just happened. With methodical, brutal efficiency, he tore through his own mind, disassembling, prodding, checking, growing increasingly annoyed when he could not find what had caused the vision. Finally, he opened his eyes with a growl. Whatever it was, it would take more time to find. Or perhaps he couldn't quite, yet. He was still partially damaged, and there were some parts of his mind that weren't quite...decipherable yet. Perhaps something had gone wrong in one of those sputtering, ruined portions of his mind. Couldn't hurt to double-check once he had fully repaired himself.

He got up, stretching, clenching his gauntleted fists. It was a very particular memory, to see at this point right now. Mythra's smiling, awful madness as she had rained fire down upon Auresco. He had to admit...Mythra as she was now, seemed so different as Mythra was then. She seemed...wounded. And not in the physical sense.

He opened the door to his room, stepping out onto the ship itself. All was quiet. It really was early. As he walked about the ship, he didn't meet another soul. Until he came to the prow of the ship.

There, leaning against one of the railings, looking out at the Cloud Sea, was Haze. Or...Fan la Norne, as she called herself now. Malos shook his head. Haze...she had been so...beautiful. In a way Malos himself barely understood, back during the Aegis war. She had been so bright, so full of life...even Malos had found himself charmed by her. What, exactly, had happened to her, to cause her to change her name?

He walked towards her, quiet as he could be. But not quiet enough, apparently. "Hello, Malos," Haze said, without turning around. Her voice...seemed almost sad, in a way. "You're up very early."

"Hello, Haze." Malos took up the spot next to her, crossing his arms as he stared out at the Cloud Sea.

"I'm Fan la Norne," she said, laughing. "You keep forgetting that."

"I'm….I'm sorry. But to me, you'll always be Haze."

"If you wish it. I don't mind."

There was silence between them for a moment, as both of them gazed out across the Cloud Sea. Malos looked down at her, out of the corner of his eye. She did look much the same as she had in her previous life. Still so much like Lora. Exactly the same, all except for her core crystal.

"I can tell you what I know, if you're curious," Haze said softly. Malos realized with a start that she had been looking at him, watching him look at her crystal. When Malos nodded briefly, she continued. "The Praetor found me on a battlefield. Well, not me, but my core crystal. My previous driver...had apparently been killed. Whatever had happened during the battle, apparently my crystal had been damaged."

Malos arched an eyebrow. "It's not so easy to damage a core crystal. Did he say what forces had been involved…?"

Haze shook her head. "He only said that whoever had done the killing, it had been a one-sided slaughter. I was among a group of refugees from the destruction of Torna, all killed by the time his forces had arrived. Whoever had killed them, not a single one of them had fallen in battle. He...recognized me, recognized my core crystal, took me from the field. Indol had some knowledge of core crystals – probably the most in the world – and Amalthus worked to save me. Unfortunately, the damage was...extensive, and he found it necessary to cut nearly half my crystal off to save the undamaged portion. Afterwards, he resonated with me. Most blades...they start off their life with no memory of their previous lives, but they have some idea of who they are. I...had none of that. I was lost, so...so afraid. Amalthus, he...he was so kind to me. He gave me a new name, stayed with me...until I had stabilized." A small smile played across Haze's face. "I knew then how lucky I was that Amalthus had found me. I can never repay him."

Malos was quiet for a long moment. "You really love him."

"Yes, I do," Haze said, closing her eyes. "I know he doesn't have the best reputation. For good reason. He was so angry at the Architect in his youth. And...he's not a fool. He knows Mythra's destruction was inspired by how he saw the world. The connection that a blade and a driver has."

"If...he sees the world in such an ugly way...how can you think so highly of him?"

"Because...it was Mythra's choice to react the way she did." Haze held a hand to her heart, her eyes still closed. "I can...see the darkness in Amalthus. Of course I can, he's my driver now, too. But it's there because...well...I won't tell you the Praetor's past. That is up to him. But yes, he has a darkness, a great grief within him. He sees the world through shadow. But that's...what makes him so beautiful. Because he has this great sadness, this aching hole within him, but...he still struggles to do the right thing. To use his great power, his great talent to help improve the world. It's….how I see it, as well." Haze opened her eyes, gazing wistfully across the Cloud Sea. "He's a great man. I just wish he wouldn't close off his heart so much. I cannot blame him. He's been so hurt in the past. But...that's what I mean. Mythra and Amalthus, they both see the world the same way. The same way I do, now. Mythra made the choice to end nations because of it."

Malos was quiet. He had only ever seen Amalthus from a distance. It was hard to know what to think of the man. Of all those who had known him closely, it seems no two had the same opinion of him. Minoth called him dangerous, clever, ambitious beyond all imagining. But he had also thought he would ultimately be helpful. And Haze, Haze seemed to adore the man. Malos wondered, what had Father thought of him? When Amalthus, beyond all that had seemed possible, had climbed the World Tree alone, taken the Aegis stones back to Alrest with him? Why had Father hidden from Amalthus? What was it that he had seen in the man?

"You know," Haze said, in response to Malos' silence, "I...I do remember some things. Sometimes."

Malos glanced down at her. "What do you mean?"

"From...my previous life. I know blades aren't supposed to be able to remember things from their previous drivers. But perhaps whatever it was that causes that loss of memory was damaged, and removed from me. I barely remember anything at all. Only flashes, brief flashes of memory. Faces. Fleeting feelings." She looked at him, a small, almost mischievous smile on her face. "I...have a couple of you. They came back to me after I had seen you."

"Oh? And what are they?"

"I can remember….seeing you for the first time. Thinking what a handsome man you were." Haze blushed, then laughed, unashamed. "Well, you are quite handsome. If a little too...mean-looking for my tastes."

"Oh, don't worry. I remember you having quite the crush on Aegaeon, anyway, not me."

Haze tilted her head to the side. "Aegaeon?"

"I...nevermind. What is your other memory of me?"

Haze's smile faded, and she looked again out at the Cloud Sea. "I remember you….ascending into the sky. In some great….artifice of darkness. I remember you...blotting out the sun with your might. The world….reality itself groaning beneath the strain of your power. I...remember...being so, so afraid of you."

Malos responded to this with silence. The two stood at the edge of the ship, staring out over the Cloud Sea for a long, long time.

"Look," Haze murmured quietly, pointing off to the horizon. "We're here."

There, in the distance, rising out of the Cloud Sea, as if it were part of the Sea itself, was a great, roiling wall of clouds, a mountain of them, and deep within them was the faint, blurry shadow of some great Titan. Around this great, wispy peak, various smaller Titans, tiny islands, orbited, slipping in and out of the clouds, in a chaotic, but almost cheerful dance.

Leftheria.

Note:

As always, thank you guys for the comments, and please comment if you can

This chapter is probably going to be a much slower one, at least until the end, where they visit Indol, so I'm planning on having a lot of social interactions in this chapter up until that point