What was the exact moment when the flow of aether surrounding Hades became a flow of cold, quietly murmuring water?
Perhaps this was the perfect time to ask a question about whether he was alive at all, but the ascian barely had any willpower left to think. He was brought to the brink of death many times over his battle with Hydaelyn and realizing that he managed to escape her presence, attaining his sweet solitude was a tremendous relief. That "soothing" song of hers became a cacophony, and every second without it was pure bliss.
As Hades drifted across the serene lake, he remembered his last moments in the battle. He couldn't kill Venat, but the ascian did not feel any disappointment over it; seeing her horrified gaze as he snapped the victory from her arms was a moment of catharsis he needed after all he had lived through.
Not that it would change anything. He still lost Zodiark, Elidibus, Hythlodaeus, and Lahabrea, along with any hope of restoring Amaurot. He still had to live with the knowledge that stung him so much. The knowledge of Venat's betrayal and manipulation, the knowledge that the answer was always beside them with a saboteur claiming a seat of Fandaniel, the knowledge that all this time the Unsundered were walking a written path, a path that led them unto suffering and death. But worst of all was Amon's words as the maniac mocked the notion that ancients were any better than the sundered. And now he knew that their paradise was stolen by two of their own kind…
When Emet gathered his strength, he finally opened his eyes. The first image he saw after a clear sky was the looming Syrcus Tower in the distance, still rising above the land and the lake Emet was floating on. The ascian chuckled; when he escaped Hydaelyn, he didn't have time or mental capacity to pick a place and so gave reign to his own heart and subconscious. Only natural that they would lead him near the key to traversing time.
After all, there was no doubt left in his mind that this world was lost. Venat continued to believe in her delusion that mankind would persevere in the face of such chaos, but Hades so no possibility. He should have asked more about Meteion while he had the chance, but at least he knew what was causing the Final Days.
The ascian reached for his pockets, he wanted to look at the creation that helped him persevere and create such perfect replicas of the Convocation, but his heart sank when he realized that there was only one crystal. The ascian immediately took it out of his wet robe and pulled it above himself. A purple constellation crystal of his own, but no Azem crystal.
His calm was abruptly squashed as the ascian began to think what might have happened to it, and his thoughts circulated back to the moment when Venat attacked him moments before he pierced the crystal. It didn't stop him, but there was a split second when Emet sensed losing something, a source of energy that was torn away from him. Blasted Hydaelyn. She just couldn't let him go. He needed to reclaim it somehow; many theories ran through the ascian's head. He could return to Aitiascope after some time passed, and he could be certain that Hydaelyn had lost most of her power. The ascian tried to teleport away from the water, but he couldn't.
"What the…" - Emet said in shock as he focused and tried again. He had a clear image of a place in his mind; why wasn't it working? Hades tried again and again, but he could not create anything more than a fleeting spark of darkness. With each attempt, the pain in his soul began to hurt more and more, forcing the ascian to breathe heavily even though he was not attempting anything out of the ordinary. "Come on, gods damn you!" - His voice sprung up as Emet tried to reach for the reservoirs of his power and found very little. He knew that piercing the crystal would be taxing, but this…
"Heeeeeey!" - An unknown male voice echoed from behind Emet-Selch, causing the ascian to swim and turn around. He saw a fishing boat with three silhouettes on it. One of them, a duskwight elezen, was waving his hand at Emet. "Can you hear me? Do you need help?" - He asked loudly; for a moment, ascian considered pretending that he was dead, but he already gave himself away. That would simply be idiotic. They probably mistook him for a drowner and wanted to help him get to the shore, something he ashamedly needed right now.
With great reluctance, the ascian raised his hand.
…
Sometimes, even the greatest of warriors would sense fear plaguing their hearts.
The slaughter in Ul'Dah became such a moment for Estinien, not because he was scared of being killed by those monsters, far from it, but because he knew that those beasts were people. Their comrades, friends, and loved ones have succumbed to an unknown and inexplicable force of despair, turning into abominations in seconds. It was easier to believe that the moment one became a beast, they lost everything that made them human, and there was no shame in putting them down, yet Estinien had his doubts. Even as he pierced the winged serpent, he couldn't help but think of a man it was before the transformation.
Aymeric understood this too, and this made his confession to the people of Ishgard even harder to stomach. Estinien vouched to stand by his friend's side while he was making the announcement and giving out further instructions. He didn't speak of it to Aymeric, but the dragoon worried that some might react exceptionally poorly to the news. So exceptionally that they will have to deal with the cataclysm in their own home. Yet the knight proved once again to be a stalwart example of virtue and wisdom, for he was able to convince the people that it takes an exceptional shock and fury for the first transformation to take place. They theorized this to be true, even if there was no proof except G'raha's tales, but this gave the people at least some peace.
Of course, the stability had to be maintained, and along with the other knights, Estinien tried to aid Aymeric anywhere he could. Predictably, the public would grow bolder in asking questions and making demands. Some believed in their leaders and tried not to think about the cataclysm, others not so much. There were a number of public outcries among Ishgardians, with people wanting to know the truth. They were unsatisfied and believed that there was a hidden truth that the government of Ishgard was concealing with them. Perhaps it was only natural for them to maintain a certain level of distrust after the truth of the Dragonsong war was revealed, but those rallies would not help to maintain the peace.
Estinien would come there and try and provide support to those people with what he could, along with other knights. Most of them needed some reassurance, needed to remember that there were people that protected them without a shadow of a doubt, that their warriors would give their lives away if it meant saving their people. Those that distrusted the government were a different type. Some could be convinced to stop riling up chaos due to the consequences it could cause, even coming to a transformation happening in Ishgard. Others would not be motivated and continue their "search for truth," only serving to show that there was no matter how much you avoid conflict and stress unless this problem was rooted out, there was no kingdom that would avoid its scorch.
Realizations like these helped Estinien grasp how important G'raha truly was despite his failures. His knowledge could be pivotal in averting the cataclysm. Meanwhile, all others had to do was to survive in this world that was slowly drowning in despair.
The next conflict Estinien encountered was nearby Fortemps manor, one of the common places for people to gather around. They were fearful that the great houses knew much more than them and still chose to manipulate the public for their own ends. But as a house that always looked at commoners with respect, it was the Fortemps that the people turned to, even in times when the grieving family will need privacy.
When Estinien watched the manor, he saw a number of commoners gathered around the entrance, disregarding the servant's warnings and pleas to leave. The guards did not wish to use force, but those people would not concede. Estinien was about to rush towards them and make sure the conflict did not escalate, but before that, he saw a young elezen man with black hair speaking to the public. At the sight of Artoirel Fortemps, they immediately diverted their attention toward him.
"Please, my lord, you need to tell us! "- One woman pleaded. "My son is training to become a soldier now; he has to do many dangerous tasks…What if he transforms? I can't lose him, please!"
"Please, calm down. I understand you are worried about him but consider how much he might fear losing you." - Artoirel pleaded. "We will make sure that our people's safety and well-being is not endangered is not endangered in those trying times, but I hope you realize that that is the most we can do…" - He tried to reason with them, but some would have none of it.
"Lies!" - Another man's voice raged from the crowd. "You know so much of this crisis; ser Aymeric said that this information was granted by a damn time traveler! Are we supposed to believe that you only learned of it now when it already began? What are you hiding?!" - He raged as a few others joined in.
"What is going on?"
"Who is behind this?!"
"No need to panic!" - Artoirel raised his voice. "If you think that we have any reason to hide the truth, then surely you must think we stand to benefit? How, pray tell me? The first wave of this "disease" killed the Grand Admiral of Limsa Lominsa, Lord of Doma, and the Sultana. Ser Aymeric saw it with his own eyes; he knows how it feels to be on the brink of death seeing the people around you transform…He told me how it was, and perhaps I cannot truly comprehend the extent of those horrors. I trust in his wisdom. It pains me gravely to tell you, but there is nothing we can do but persevere! Let us pray that the horror does not reach us and do everything in our power to make it so." - His speech roused a few hearts, though people's eyes are still pulsed with doubt. Estinien decided to join in.
"He speaks the truth." - The dragoon exclaimed. "I've been in Ul'Dah with Aymeric, and I know how lucky we are not only to survive but to still have our home untouched. Think of your friends and families and how much you are putting them at risk by stirring up all the unnecessary chaos."
He wasn't one for speeches, but it helped people to realize that they should back down. One by one, they left with disappointment and seething on their faces, emotions that might lead them to become a monster. Estinien could only hope that Fandaniel does not intervene anywhere again, although he almost laughed in his mind at how absurd this hope really was.
"Thank you, Ser Estinien." - The young lord of house Fortemps said with gratitude as the dragoon approached him.
"Must be a nuisance, always having to talk the crowd down."
"I understand their fears; I am sure they realize the dangers too…But sometimes, one can't help but act irrationally."
"You don't have to tell me…" - Estinien thought of his own recklessness of the old days. As he looked into Artoirel's eyes, he still saw the agony and grief that he desperately wished to hide. They hadn't got an opportunity to speak for a long time now, but Estinien was well aware of the pain that ate his heart out. "Did Aymeric tell you everything about Ul'Dah, then?"
"I…I believe so, though I can scarcely imagine the horror. The winged serpent, people being mauled by the transformed in dozens, all the fear and despair…At least both of you are still alive." - Artoirel clenched his fist and looked to the floor. "Though one detail I'm still uncertain on…What exactly ensures the transformation?"
"The first man to transform did so out of shock and horror. He was forced to witness his dead and mutilated wife."
"By the Fury…" - Artoirel took a deep breath. "Truth be told, I understand that everyone can succumb, but… I'm afraid of what will happen if I shall." - He finally confessed. "I always see it in my head, becoming a monster and abandoning my father, horrifying all those people, destroying houses." - The young lord looked away to the skies above them, as dark as serene as they were every night after the war's end, almost as if expecting them to turn crimson. "I was never prone to such doubts or fears, but I feel that I know why…" - His voice grew quieter as Artoirel struggled to speak, but Estinien got enough clues to understand. "I wonder if some part of me feels like I deserve it." - The lord spoke ashamedly.
"Because of what happened with Emmanellain?"
"I…" - Artoirel closed his eyes, holding back his emotions. "I should've known. I allowed him to…More so, greatly encouraged to go on a mission he was not prepared for. We didn't always see eye to eye, yet my brother respected my counsel; I would've told him the truth…I am a fool, and he had to pay the price…So does our father." - A tear fell from Artoirel's face. "First Haurchefant, now Emmanellain, I should've known, I should've…"
"I was there when he died." - Estinien said distantly, thinking back to the battle in Magna Glacies. "He fought and did not fear; he was a warrior at heart, whatever some might think." - There was no point in saying that he did not last long; the fact that during this time, he bravely fought was enough to remember him as a hero.
"If I could only say how sorry I am…" - Artoirel sighed.
"How is your father doing?"
"We were together when the news was brought, we listened to this report, and we will continue to do so no matter how hard it becomes. We are all that's left our family, and we will not fail my brothers." - He said with newfound resolve. "As the lord of house Fortemps, I shall see to it."
"The most any of us can do." - Estinien said with as much empathy as he could. He was not a stranger to loss, and even now, the thought of Alphinaud was enough to make his heart shrink. It was the same way he felt after losing his family many years ago, the same disbelief, same pain, same denial. He could never forget them, never let go of his pain, but he could minimize it and learn to live with it. Artoirel will learn too, and looking at the young lord's resolve, Estinien had no doubt that he would persevere.
Before they could continue, another voice rang from behind.
"Ser Estinien, here you are! "- A messenger rushed from behind, causing Estinien and Artoirel to focus on him. "I hope I am not distracting you."
"Not at all." - Artoirel assured him. "We had a certain incident to deal with, but everything is alright now."
"Lord Aymeric sent me to inform you of the message that came from Mistress Tataru in the Rising Stones."
"Speak, then." - Estinien urged him.
"In light of…Recent information, she has decided to conduct a final ceremony for them, and she invites their closest friends and associates to partake in it."
So the time has come, then. Estinien threw a glance at Artoirel. The young lord understood the implications. He was a friend to Edwin, too; this news was dreadful for almost everyone.
"Go." - Artoriel said. "They need you."
And so he shall.
…
Any other time Emet-Selch would have found a situation like this daunting, if not outright humiliating, but at this point, he was simply too tired to be angry or even think. The moment he made his presence known to the crew of the three fishermen, the ascian surrendered to the flow of his life. They got him on the boat and provided him with a blanket to warm himself up, not that Hades was in dire need of it.
The one who found him was an elezen. Out of the three, he seemed the most worried for the drowner, though Emet clearly demonstrated that he wasn't in the mood for talk. Beside him was a Seawolf roegadyn, the loudest and boisterous of them all. Finally, the last man was a midlander hyur dressed in light armor, he did not seem too happy to see their new guest, but the other two convinced him to help the "drowner" out. Emet had little to say in the matter, his powers were still not restored, and without teleportation and the powerful extent of his magic, there was precious little Hades could do. The time was ticking, and the ascian knew that the First would not be safe from the Final Days. Before, he had time to force Cid and others to create that which sent G'raha back in time in this world, but now that opportunity was lost. The only hope he had was in Norvrandt. The mechanisms that still empowered the tower of another time combined with Ryne's power might be enough to create another rift.
Emet remained very quiet throughout the remainder of their voyage into the Silvertear lake; it didn't take long before the three men decided to disembark onto the shore and have a break. Eventually, the ascian found himself sitting near a small bonfire, covered by a blanket and sighing with despair as he feared the inevitable. Many would say that he should've given up and accepted that the Unsundered quest would end with failure; Amon would gleefully mock Emet because of this. But the creed that he shared with Themis and Hephaistos was that they would grasp at every opportunity and not give up until they were no more.
Out of them, Emet displayed the most doubt, even if he rarely showed it. Seeing all those civilizations rise and fall, suffer and delude themselves…It became tiring. Yet he continued to play his part well for the sake of his brothers and will continue to do so even after they were gone. The ascian took his purple crystal out, looking at his constellation. A useless thing, really, those crystals were created to imbue their sundered colleagues with memories of who they were, and it wouldn't hurt for Lahabrea and Elidibus to peer into their crystals as they lost sight of who they truly were. Emet never forgot, and it was the sentiment that held the ascian back. At least there will be something to leave here when he is gone…But that point was still a long way away.
"…And then I told him that ain't bloody fish, that's a shriveled kobold who's drowned a week ago!" - The roegadyn exclaimed, causing the other two to laugh.
"Judging by your tale sounds like every day in your life is an adventure." - The elezen noted.
"Eh, nothin' too special. Might seem a bit spicy for our dutiful little Heimer over there, but for a Lominsian, that's on par the for the course." - Roegadyn responded, pointing at the hyur beside them. The latter, whose name was Heimer, was the least invested in their conversation and preferred to watch Emet-Selch with intrigue; this seemed to distract him, however.
"At least with my lifestyle, I'll live till my marriage."
"See, jealous to the last!"
This wasn't the first scene of their "idle banter" Hades had to witness, but at least it provided some perspective. They were friends from across Eorzea; Heimer was a local of Revenant's toll, the elezen's name was Razault, and he was a former member of the Twin Adder from Gridania, while the roegadyn by the name of Zirnjarr was a corsair hailing from a village in La Noscea. The three of them pretended to be carefree and enjoy the moment, but it was clear that there was worry and fear hidden behind their voices.
"Would you like some?" - Razault opened a bottle of ale and offered it to the ascian.
"No." - Hades shook his head, not seeing the need to dignify him with a longer response.
"You sure?"
"Yes…"
"Fine, fine, your loss." - The elezen shrugged and turned towards his friends. Heimer was eager to speak of something.
"So, Razault, I take it you'll return to Gridania now?"
"Yes, I will…I know of the tidings, but I have a family there; they'll need any help they can get."
"And you, Zirnjarr? Will you sail back to Limsa?"
"Like hell I will." - The roegadyn shook his head.
"Truly? I thought you'd go back to protect your homeland."
"No point…You know, a good captain must know when to abandon his ship, and that's one of those." - He said with some regret. "The Admiral was the last person who held that hellhole together. Do you know how much of an uproar the pirate gangs caused after an attempt to make peace with the beastmen? It nearly came to a bloody riot! Even when the time came to assault Garlemald, Sicard barely agreed to help. Without her, there'll be no one to leash the hounds." - Those words caused Emet to leave his trance. He could picture from the way they talked that something was off, but this put it into perspective.
"The Admiral is gone?" - Emet wondered, immediately causing the others to turn to him.
"Heh, you livin' under a rock or something?" - Zirnjarr chuckled. "The whole bloody world is talking about that!"
"It's a been a horrible slaughter." - Razault conceded. "People in Ul'Dah began to turn into dreadful monsters, killing and destroying everything that was in their way, and all the Alliance leaders were there…The Grand Admiral died, along with the ruler of Doma and the Sultana."
So it has begun, then. Emet expected it to take a bit longer, but the "song" had reached this world already, meaning that he had even less time than he believed.
"You must've been busy not to know that…" - Heimer said with suspicion. "Maybe you'll tell us what you've been up to and how you got into that lake?"
"And you care why?" - The ascian sighed.
"We were the ones that saved you, after all." - The hyur said with the others supporting him.
"Yeah, could you at least tell us what your name is!" - Zirnjarr added.
"And where did you get that outfit?" - Razault pointed at the robes. "I have to say, it is to my liking." - They weren't going to budge, and Hades wouldn't want to give much away.
"I'm Emmet, and I had a bit of a "fight" with someone I considered a friend over some disagreement. Is that satisfying?" - He said, causing Zirnjarr to look at him with piqued curiosity.
"He threw you off into the lake because of that? Must have been a mad lad…"
"She got a bit rough after I gave her exactly what she deserved…" - Emet thought back to Hydaelyn while the elezen beside him seemed a bit surprised.
"She's a woman, and you hit her first? That sounds unnecessary…"
"Hey, don't be quick to judge." - Zirnjarr stepped in. "She might have been a roegadyn. If you'd seen some Lominsian women and the beatings they can give you, you'd take that back." - Before they could get into another tangent, which would be exactly what Emet-Selch needed, Heimer pressed on.
"I can't say I am surprised that you got into a fight. People around here are a bit wary around garleans, so you'd better be careful."
Emet remembered that he still had the third eye on his body, and without magics of alteration, he could not get rid of it. In lands like these, this would be a damning sight.
"I am not going to pretend to believe that you care for my safety, but thank you…" - Emet said through his teeth. He could have killed them all on the spot; the basic magic he had left was more than enough, but that would certainly go unnoticed, and unlike before, he couldn't just leave.
"Hey, no need to get jumpy." - Heimer said, now he was looking at Emet with a gaze too suspicious for comfort. It seemed that, unlike the other two, he had at least half a brain. "We're just interested, that's all."
"An I would rather not waste my breath." - Emet stood up and put the blanket aside. "Thank you for helping me out, but there's nothing for us left to talk about." - He said starkly before beginning to move away as the trio gazed at the ascian with misunderstanding and wonder. After how much spew he heard from Venat, wasting time on these fools would have been idiotic.
Now, he only had to see how many powers he had lost.
…
G'raha could scarcely comprehend the enormity of the quest entrusted to him in the wake of the Final Days.
The oath he gave was not to be taken lightly by anyone, and the Crystal Exarch understood that the goals he set before himself would be considered impossible by many. Even if the city-state leaders did not say it to his face, G'raha could well sense the doubt in their eyes. He didn't blame them; even for the one who traversed time, this undertaking seemed impossible. Yet it was his failure that brought the cataclysm upon the world, and until he repents for this, G'raha was ready to forsake the joy he sought in this world, a calm after the storm of stopping the ascians. Even if he had to walk alone, even if there was no light at the end of this path, it was still his to walk.
The next few days, G'raha spent helping the people of Ul'Dah with the remaining beasts that ran free in the wilderness. Raubahn believed that they could deal with the problem on their own, but G'raha felt the need to aid them out of guilt and duty. Their city was destroyed because of his mistake, and G'raha worked as tirelessly as he could. He was also expecting Fandaniel to show up again, so he could try and capture the ascian. It was clear that he possessed the knowledge of the Final Days, and considering his identity, he was quite apt in the art of destroying worlds. G'raha never imagined speaking to the infamous Amon in person, but the Allagan sorcerer had much more influence throughout history than any scholar could imagine. His plans were interrupted by a message from Mor Dhona, tidings that he could not ignore.
Tataru and Krile have decided to bury his friends.
Even as he read the note, G'raha felt his hands shaking as shame overshadowed him. Those were the people he looked up to, people he loved and cherished. The heroes inspired him to surmount the insurmountable, even after their deaths. He thrust them into a battle that saw them work tirelessly for a world alien to them and perish in the end. There was no question about whether he should be present.
The Exarch journeyed back to the Rising Stones, praying that Amon would not use his distraction to return to the ruined city and force the remaining people to suffer yet again. Such cruelty was not beyond him. When G'raha entered the scion headquarters, he noticed Krile talking to a young boy with white hair.
"Tomorrow, then?" - The boy's lips quivered, and Krile nodded.
"Yes…We will set up pyres for them, and then we'll say our goodbyes." - She responded quietly; both of their voices were filled with grief and pain. The boy looked into her eyes, still eager to say something in a moment where words were meaningless.
"I never got the chance to thank Edwin…For the kindness he showed me."
"He will hear you tomorrow…I know he will." - Krile sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. The boy finally showed signs of acceptance, slowly retreating into his own chambers to grieve. G'raha did not know who this was, but it was clear that he had a connection to their hero, as well.
When Krile noticed G'raha, a faint sign of relief sparked in her eyes.
"Thank the Twelve, you're safe." - She smiled and ran up to him. To G'raha's own surprise, those words did not soothe him at all. He once again thought back to the screams of horror that he heard from the people in Ul'Dah, the rivers of tears after seeing their loved ones mutilated and homes destroyed. There was little that could cheer him up.
"I wish I could say the same for those that died…" - He said quietly, immediately noticing the change of expression on Krile's face. She knew what had happened, too.
"I got the news two days ago…" - She stuttered. "Gods, if I only knew what to say…I won't presume to speak on behalf of those people. I wasn't there. I sent as much aid to Ul'Dah as I could spare; how are the people?"
"Some returned to their homes." - G'raha spoke, remembering the despair he saw in their eyes as they looked upon their tarnished city. "It hurt…But they did."
"I have faith in Raubahn, he has always been a hero for the people of Ul'Dah, and he knows them well." - She tried to reassure both G'raha and himself, though they knew that Raubahn's path would be one of sorrow and pain. "Not to minimize the suffering Ul'Dah goes through, but I fear for Limsa Lominsa and the Far East. Their people put a lot of faith in Merlwyb and Hien, and with them gone, I'm afraid despair among them might become all too prevalent…"
"I believe in them." - G'raha said, although it sounded painfully insincere. That is what he always said, a belief he stuck to. His faith in mankind is unquestionable, but he could not force himself to speak with such conviction now. How could he believe in people when he could not believe in himself? G'raha feared that his every action might make the situation even worse, and this agonizing whisper of doubt was driving him insane ever since Edwin perished. When Zodiark died, this whisper became a scream.
"I take it you've seen the message…" - Thankfully for G'raha, Krile decided to get to the point.
"Of course, how could I ignore it? "
"Then you know that's it…Gods, I can't believe we are truly saying goodbye. There was so much undone. They had long and fruitful lives ahead of them. To have them die to that monster, it's just… It's unfair!" - Krile was holding herself from not shouting as the pain tore her soul apart. Some part of G'raha empathized, and yet he wasn't able to express his sympathy like he readily would before, no matter how he pushed for it. Something inside him was dying, and G'raha could not reverse the process.
"There is nothing fair about this." - He spoke coldly. "There will never be."
They stood in silence for a few moments, contemplating the dreadful chaos that took so many of their friends, the chaos that could take so many more.
"May I have a moment with them?" - G'raha asked.
"Of course, as long as you like."
Following those words, Krile led G'raha to the room where their bodies still lay. She opened the door before him, welcoming the Exarch to enter.
"I'll wait outside." - She said before looking away. Krile closed the door behind him, leaving G'raha alone with the vessels of his dead friends.
He walked slowly to the center of the room, looking at the beds that surrounded him. G'raha didn't know the purpose of this visit, for this would not bring anything but pain. He thought back to their first days in Norvrandt, the shock each of them experienced upon being summoned by his spell. They had their questions, had their doubts and quarrels, but none shied away from the battle.
G'raha looked at Thancred's body, remembering his days as the slayer of sin-eaters and protector of Minfilia. His bravery and selflessness were now quenched forever. He looked at Y'shtola and Urianger, the keepers of knowledge and wisdom that learned much of the new world in an attempt to save it. Of how masterful they were in their contact with the natives, bringing them hope and inspiration. Now, this knowledge and passion were snatched away by the darkness, forever sent into Oblivion.
His gravest sin were the twins. The bodies of Alphinaud and Alisaie lay peacefully near each other, as close in death as they were in life. The Exarch walked towards them, touching Alphinaud's hand and feeling the cold that permeated his body. They were children still, but in their youth, they possessed a vision that rivaled G'raha's own. Their unrelenting optimism and hope for the future was a goal to aspire for. Now, whatever future awaits them, they will not be here to see it.
And for the one that wasn't here, for the one G'raha could never forget. Edwin was a hero to all of them, a hero that the Exarch foolishly believed to be impenetrable, unbreakable. A hero whose kindness and desire to save worlds, both his and one's beyond the rift, were unparalleled, the one who gave people of the First something that they believed long lost, brought smiles back on their faces, showed them that their prayers weren't for naught.
His was the plight to save both of their worlds, a plight G'raha sought to finish, to honor his idol. The Exarch clenched his crystal fist as he looked down at the floor. Tears fell from his eyes as the last layer of his denial was shattered. The moment he pierced Zodiark's heart, he rent asunder all of their hopes and dreams, all of their work obsolete, leaving nothing but a bleeding wound on all of their worlds.
"Forgive me…" - The weight of this burden became unbearable as G'raha fell to his knees and wept. Wept like a broken soul, a child that saw his dreams crushed. A man who believed he could save everyone, yet in his recklessness doomed the people he swore to protect. He was no hero; he was a fool who would have to pay in blood for his mistakes.
"Forgive me, forgive me…" - He continued to chant, unable to hold back the stream of tears. Those corpses were a reminder of his failure. The flashes raged in his mind like an unending wildfire, the screams of the people, the ravaging roar of the beasts, friends, and family lost. The thoughts of innocents being torn apart were united with memories of reassurance he gave to Ryne, his admiration of Edwin, and the promise he gave to the people of his own world and the First alike. Each promise saw itself broken, and each dream saw itself squashed. And above them all, a single phrase that reigned over them, his stinging words.
"You will see this world die."
He prayed that no one would enter, Krile or anyone else, for if someone opened this door, they would see G'raha for what he truly was. A pathetic, broken, guilt-ridden shell of the man that he was. It was both horrific and, in a twisted way, funny that some people genuinely believed that he could protect them. Failure after failure, tragedy after tragedy, this world would be better without him; the only reason he continued to live was the slim chance that this nightmare could still be ended. He did not care for himself, not anymore.
It pained G'raha to stand up. It agonized him to wipe his tears and open that door. But he had to. As G'raha walked outside, trying to get used to the world's surroundings after coming from limbo, he tried to act like nothing had happened, but he knew that Krile would notice something. Thankfully for him, she was busy talking to a hyuran guard near the solar's entrance; G'raha tried to slip past them and have a drink to himself, all while pondering on the course of action he should take next.
"Oh, G'raha!" - Krile did not allow it to go unnoticed and called to him. Reluctantly, the Exarch turned his head and looked at her. He hoped that she wouldn't keep him for long.
"Yes?" - He said distantly.
"Our friend here came in just a few minutes ago. He says he found someone to the west of Revenant's Toll; it sounds outlandish, but…"
"You have my word that every word of it is true." - The hyur reassured her and looked at G'raha. "I was with my friends when we found a man in the Silvertear Lake, drifting aimlessly without drowning. We helped him out, but…It was no ordinary man. He was a garlean and had dark robes, and very reluctant to tell us of how he got to this." - G'raha's heart skipped a beat as he thought of the only possibility, though his mind still refused to believe.
"And his hair?"
"Black as night except for one white lock."
"It's him." - G'raha said gravely. Once again, fate knew how to play with her children's lives, bringing upon them the most surprising twists.
"Are you sure?" - Krile said.
"It cannot be anyone else. I don't know what Emet-Selch wants here…But I will have a talk with him." - His knowledge was important, and G'raha would force it out of him.
"Are you sure? It's a great risk." - Krile sounded worried.
"There is no risk greater in these times than simply sit and wait, and I will do what must be done."
Krile could not argue with that. She watched G'raha leave the rising stones, both of them praying that this presented them with another chance.
…
Only now did Hades realize how infuriating it is to have limits that bound all the sundered.
He hoped that at least with some time, he would be able to restore his power, that it was simply a matter of picking himself up and trying it again and again until they awaken. Yet here he was, amidst the crystal land of Mor Dhona, still searching for powerful test subjects on which he could unleash his fury. He began with small animals, later moving on to powerful beasts that roamed closer to the Syrcus Tower. The ascian could still dispose of with basic spells he had; he was even able to utilize his creative magic. Yet when he tried to teleport or transform, his body refused to obey, unable to utilize such powers.
This infuriated him. One after another, Emet sought opponents to try and reclaim his powers as well as to unleash his growing anger. As he killed another beast, the ascian hoped this would bring him at least some sense of relief, yet he felt imprisoned by this nuisance. No thoughts, no concentration could bring him the powers that he needed most to continue on his path and escape this doomed world.
Eventually, the ascian found himself back at the Silvertear lake. He noticed another lake cobra slithering on the shores, a perfect opportunity. At Emet's command, a few strong aetheric arrows emerged and were unleashed on the beast. It reeled from the wounds the ascian inflicted and looked up at him. It didn't live for much longer, consumed by another dark blast. Just basic magic, nothing that will help him in the long run.
"Damn…" - Hades breathed heavily, trying to think. The tower itself was within his reach, but what good was it without Garlond's invention? With the limitations he had now, there was no chance for him to return to the First. He needed to find a source of dark power before this world was completely ravaged by the final days.
"You look like you've seen better days." - A familiar voice echoed from behind Emet-Selch, causing chills to go through the ascian's body. Hades turned around, witnessing the Crystal Exarch rise before him.