Author's Note: There are some sections of the Aionios map that we obviously have yet to access. Will they become new areas in future DLC? Maybe!
So there will be some geographic liberties taken. Naturally, much in keeping with Xenoblade tradition, the scale of Aionios is increased to make it as massive as it should be, since it canonically was supposed to take months to get from the Eagus Wilderness to Swordmarch. This is similar to how it would have been in past Xenoblade games; not going by in-game measurements (which based on the model you pick, puts Bionis at 8-10 kilometers tall; still respectable at being taller than Mount Everest, but hardly 'world' worthy), but by creator commentary, Bionis and Mechonis are both as 'big as Japan' (whatever that precisely means).
Especially since we have the Urayan Titan sitting around (and the Titans in XB2 are explicitly depicted as being 'continent-sized' in the base game), it should communicate the idea that Aionios is really huge. (A shame we don't see more of it.)
xxxx
/Time: Several Terms before the Main Plot/
/Colony Delta, Far Western Fornis Region/
Cammuravi's hair was on fire all the time, now. His commander had likened it to him finally awakening his 'fighting spirit', whatever that meant. The commander had always had a peculiar fighting philosophy: gung-ho and light on tactics, preferring instead to trust in the power of one's self and one's comrades, even if it came to your own detriment.
Nonetheless, his commander was the greatest warrior in their colony; as such, his philosophy was one he tried to imbibe, as a sponge to water. Without a 'Way' to call your own, you were dry, brittle: easily broken if pressure is applied. Yet with a 'Way' to guide you...then no matter how much pressure was applied, you would bend without breaking.
Although...a sponge was not exactly an inspiring metaphor. Maybe I should think of better phrases?
It was something to focus on honing, much like his skills with a spear. (He had been forced to use only the 'dummy' varieties for practice; his Blade kept setting the training grounds on fire, even when all combustible material had been removed.)
That's why, when word came of a new rising star in the ranks of Keves, he paid attention with all his worth. "Ethel?"
"Yeah," remarked one of his squadmates. "Set up some crazy ambush and took out Colonies Kappa, Pi, and Rho in one fell swoop, with only a hundred soldiers. Tricked a bunch of their units into killing each other in the crossfire."
"I see." That spoke of dishonorable tactics and underhanded tomfoolery...yet, three Colonies at once was no small feat. The prospect of facing such a combatant made him clench his fists with...excitement? Dread? He wasn't sure. "Perhaps we will face her in battle, one day."
"Who knows? Knowing our commander, it's almost a certainty."
Cammuravi looked east, towards the distant peaks of the Great Hand's fingers, looming like mountains over the Fornis Region. Ethel...where will our destined battlefield be? Our are we fated to pass without ever crossing swords?
Regardless...he would remain true to his fledgeling Way.
xxxx
It had been close to a thousand years since the Homecoming ritual had been introduced to Aionios.
Its predecessor ritual — an execution in all but name — had gone on for a long time before that, as well.
The point of such trivia? To attest to the fact that Colonies had risen and fallen, over and over; these were not the first Colonies named Kappa, Pi, and Rho. They had been destroyed before; they would likely rise again, before long.
On and on, went the Endless Now into the interminable past of Aionios; so much so that it was hard to tell just how long their world had existed. Events which had been notorious in times past — the capturing of the true Queen of Keves; the emergence of the first Ouroboros; the introduction of Off-Seers — were now elements of myth, or completely forgotten in their entirety. When a single generation would die out within ten years, history was easy to ignore.
In the face of fighting to live, and living to fight...the past mattered little to the soldiers of Keves and Agnus.
What would be valued, in the face of that reality?
xxxx
/Dannagh Desert, Fornis Region/
A sandstorm had forced the Colony Delta platoon to take shelter within a cave; such was the storm's ferocity that it interfered with the scanners on their Levnises.
It was for that reason they were caught off guard, when — without warning — several squads of Kevesi soldiers entered the cavernous expanse, apparently having had the same idea as they to avoid the blistering sands.
Chaos ensued.
What luck, Cammuravi thought, that they all belonged to Colony 4; what fortune, that Ethel — she who had been given the moniker of 'Silvercoat' — was at their head!
Fighting to live, and living to fight: every soldier in that cave embodied that reality.
Blades flew, and crimson motes rose.
No quarter was given, and none was asked.
Before the hour was up, all but the leaders of their respective platoons were dead, rendered into husks. Only Cammuravi and Ethel remained to fight.
Her ferocity is unquestionable, distantly mused Cammuravi as he used the staff of his Blade to block the downward slashes from Ethel's twin rapiers. She is cunning and wily...yet her strikes lack any hint of deceit. That only made her destruction of a triad of Agnian Colonies more impressive then; what possible strategy had such a clear-sighted warrior used to conquer her enemies? I want to know; my Way demands nothing less! Roaring, he smashed his spear into the ground, unleashing a spiraling column of flame that forced Ethel to back away; despite the pain of his own fire, he thrust through-!
-Ethel parried his spear with one sword, rearing her left arm back to take his head with the other blade-
-and ducked, using the momentum of the parry to spin; his leg struck at Ethel's ankles. With a surprised yelp, his opponent fell backwards. Now! Howling, he reared his spear, ready to end this...
(Do you really want it to end?)
...and it was that moment of sudden indecision, so strange and out of character, that forced him to stop. The tip of his spear hovered in front of Ethel's face; all it would take was a single nudge, and he would pierce her flesh, immolating her with his fire.
Her expression — eyes wide with animalistic fear, lips stretched into a thin grimace: a soldier ready to accept her end, even if as a warrior she did not want to lose — said volumes.
...is this how it must be? With a frown, he stepped back. "No. Not yet." With a howl of frustration, he raised his spear up high.
Ethel took the opportunity, rolling away before his spear smashed into the ground. Amidst the great explosion, her rapiers — Blades shining blue amidst the red, moving like lightning through the flames — lashed out once more.
(What had he done? His enemy had been at his mercy! Her life would have been his; how many motes would Silvercloak Ethel have been worth?!)
(But even if your Flame Clock would have been fueled...would it have been equal to the fire you feel right now?)
On and on they fought, until their fingers became numb from the force of their strikes; a staggering blow from both caused their weapons to go flying, scattering across the rocky cave floor. To turn away to get his Blade, he would have to show his back to his opponent. Unacceptable! Snarling, he advanced nonetheless, deadened fingers curling into fists.
Ethel, to his strange joy(?), had apparently elected to do the same: the discs of her Power Frame — one on each hand, one on each boot, and another one on her waist — whined as they reinforced her body's musculature.
Their form in hand-to-hand was clearly lacking compared to their skills with a Blade, to the point where they seemed somewhat sloppy. Yet sheer vigor and utter desire — a desire for what? For victory? For her life? Those seemed so hollow, in the face of this rapturous duel — kept them going. Kicks to the knee, knees to the gut, elbows to the face: anything and everything was a weapon in this strange moment, which was rapidly transcending the conventional tropes of the eternal war between Keves and Agnus. Time itself seemed to slip away, as all of Aionios faded from thought. There was only this: Cammuravi and Ethel, fighting to the death.
(Yet you could have killed her earlier, and didn't. Are you truly fighting to the death?)
His arms had become too heavy to lift; his breaths were ragged, parched as though he hadn't had a drink in forever; a cut on his forehead was bleeding profusely onto his left eye, blinding his Iris. Yet Ethel's hair, matted with sweat and blood, was a fitting mirror in this instant. Bereft of fists, and too weak to kick, they defaulted to the only means left to them.
Roaring in defiance of the world, they smashed their heads together. The impact brought clarity unlike anything else: face to face, she was all that mattered to him, and he to her. Falling to their knees, leaning against each other as mutual support...until finally, weariness had its way, as they fell to the ground. The cavern echoed with their pained breathing: everything felt too constrained, too small for the grandiosity of what had just occurred.
Two measly third-termers, fighting to the death amidst a field of corpses...and yet now, after over an hour of endless battle, they couldn't kill each other even if they wanted to.
The sheer absurdity of it all elicited a chuckle from Cammuravi. Ethel, it seemed, was of a similar mind, for she quietly laughed as well.
xx
From that moment, they were bound.
"I feel like...I've been reborn," he whispered into the open air, full of wonder.
Ethel apparently heard him, because she agreed. "I feel...the same."
No other word fit for such a glorious transformation.
xx
"I must report back to Colony 4. It wouldn't be right by my men, if their Commander were to fall on a distant battlefield."
Ethel's words were clear, amidst the quiet of the desert wastes; without the sandstorm, they stood in the open sun, now fully cognizant of just how much they had brutalized each other. Even so, Cammuravi couldn't help but harp on a particular title. "I was unaware you had been promoted to Commander."
"It was desperation more than anything that forced my soldiers into that battle," she replied, speaking of the infamous conflict that had given rise to her reputation. "After our victory, the soldiers of Colony 4 were unwilling to follow anyone else but me...and after an appeal to our Consul, my predecessor was reassigned to another Colony."
"It's quite unprecedented, for one as young as you to become the Commander of an entire Colony."
"Why else do you think I was in the field? I cannot afford to skate by on reputation alone."
"...an answer befitting a warrior." For that reason...he was glad that Ethel was alive. A kindred spirit, from Keves? It seemed unthinkable, and yet the reality of it all was manifest. "Then I too must report back to Delta. I will need to have my Commander direct our off-seers to send off our fallen."
Ethel crossed her arms over her chest, a complicated expression ghosting by her face. With a resolute nod, she added, "Given the state of my injuries, it may take at least a week for me to get back to Colony 4."
Given that the rest of Colony Delta's detachment in Dannagh Desert — for they had made no secret of their presence, involved as they had been with recent battles against Colonies 8 and 24 — was less than three days away, he recognized the offer for what it was. "Then I will ensure our off-seers are long gone by the time yours arrive."
That should have been the end of it. Yet, as they parted ways...
"Don't die." Cammuravi turned around, looking at Ethel; the expression on her face was complicated, but it mirrored how he himself felt: conflicted, yet glad at how these events had come about. "It would be a shame, for you to perish to a wild monster instead of to a Blade." (To her Blade specifically, it went unsaid.)
The very thought was anathema. Resting the staff of his Blade on his shoulder, Cammuravi solemnly replied, "Our feud has merely been delayed. Until we can finish it properly...I will not die."
Ethel, hands loosely hanging onto her twin Blades, acknowledged his vow with a silent nod. "...likewise."
And so they limped away...to live, and fight another day.
xxxx
Ironically, Ethel's reputation served to bolster Cammuravi's: word spread quickly of how he had been the lone survivor of a battle against Silvercloak. Before long, he bore his own unique title: 'Smouldering.' It fit his appearance and his demeanor...but more importantly, it matched the fire that always burned within him, seeking something precious to fuel it.
Thus far, nothing inflamed that roaring pyre like Silvercloak Ethel.
Delta's commander, against all odds, made it to his Homecoming. By acclamation, Cammuravi had been elevated to succeed him.
Ethel and Cammuravi both advanced in term. Their duels eventually became grander, to the point where they would fight each other in Ferronises.
However...the character of their battles seemed strangely lighthearted, to the point where Ethel's second-in-command — Bolearis — could reasonably call them 'spars'.
Yet who would question them? They had risen to meteoric heights, almost as though they were one.
Naturally, they would likewise fall together.
xxxx
Cammuravi's first thought, as his Ferronis's knee joint gave out, was that he should have been more of a stickler for maintenance, in light of how their last supply shipment had been stolen by plucky Kevesi troops. Yet Colony 4 had advanced onto their territory, and there had been no time to double check.
(He was in his ninth term now. There wasn't enough time, it felt like.)
Alas, a Colony was a reflection of its Commander. A failure of maintenance was ultimately his failure; a warrior would accept no excuses for their own faults.
Hence — as Ethel's Ferronis struck down his own; as his mighty mech collapsed onto the field; as he scrambled out of the cockpit and into the open air — he could only stare at the tip of the blue blade with acceptance. Ethel's Ferronis seemed as though she were the judge of his fate, ready to execute him; as the fallen, he could not and would not protest.
(He wondered if this is what Ethel had felt like, all those years ago, when she stared at the tip of his spear.)
From so far away, he could not see the fullness of Ethel's expression. Yet her grim frown was obvious, even from this distance.
He would accept her decision, whatever it was.
(It would still be a shame, for one of you to go on...to leave the other one behind.)
Yet...instead of striking him down, her Ferronis stepped back. The obvious thing — the correct thing, by any conventional military doctrine — would have been for her to end his life. Yet it was not to be.
Cammuravi valiantly tried to rally Colony Delta on foot, but it was to no avail; in the face of an absolute rout, he called a retreat.
Their territory was seized by Colony 4...yet most of his soldiers would live on to fight another day. That was all Cammuravi could give them, now.
(You wonder if Ethel feels as bitter about this as you do.)
(The fact that he had been let go by Ethel did not escape the notice of the Consuls.)
xxxx
It was a testament to the mercurial nature of most Consuls that both sides were punished.
Colony 4, despite defeating Delta and seizing their territory, were stripped of their Silver rank, and kicked down to Dirt. That was their punishment for Ethel's unforgivable crime of letting Cammuravi live.
Colony Delta, despite surviving with most of their forces intact, were stripped of more than just their rank. Cammuravi, even though he took full responsibility for their defeat, was imprisoned in Agnus Castle; the survivors were reassigned to other Colonies, to cement the shame of their retreat for all the soldiers of Agnus.
Ethel and Cammuravi's reputations were seemingly sullied forever, at this point...but with their tenth term looming ahead of them, they had no reason to care about such things.
In a given moment of time...their duels had been the most important events of their lives. Thus it was with no exaggeration, when the newest incarnation of Ouroboros came knocking, that Ethel would speak of her fight with Cammuravi in such terms: "Hunger. Pride. Desire. Joy, maybe...it's a little hard to put into words...but something along those lines. I haven't all the time in the world...and my troops understand this full well. For me...well, all of us, really...a rematch with Cammuravi is everything. And that...will give purpose to the remainder of our lives."
Even reduced to Dirt, Colony 4 was still a reflection of Ethel, and so they looked forward to the resumption of the duel.
Even without Colony Delta, Cammuravi was exactly the same.
What a curious turn of events it was, then, that they would meet each other again, within the halls of Keves Castle.
xxxx
/First Floor Hangar, Keves Castle/
"Of all the ways we could meet again, it ends up being this...the irony of it all," mused Ethel.
The wistful tone in Ethel's voice felt wrong, somehow. Reassuring her in his own way, Cammuravi replied, "We are bound. That is how I see it."
"Bound?" she asked, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice. "That certainly sounds like you. You're talking about...?"
Memories came to mind, of the first time he had ever heard of Silvercoat Ethel; of whether they would ever cross paths, and how it would be resolved. "Fate. I think that is how you would put it."
"Fate, you say..."
(As she stared at their new Ferronises, there were doubtless many questions they could have asked each other. There were so many things they could have talked about: the reality of Moebius, the revelations of Ouroboros, the oddity of Keves's Golden Consul being able to walk freely in Agnus Castle, the ultimate fate of Colony Delta's men, the fact that Colony 4 had been freed from its Flame Clock. Yet, with what time they had left, it all felt...superfluous.)
So instead, Ethel's inquiry was focused on him. "Why? Why did you agree? To be 'reborn'?"
(It was the height of irony, that this term would gain so much literal meaning in light of the reality of the cradles, and how the lives of every soldier were endlessly recycled. Yet, for them...it had the significance of a total change in life, unique to them as a single unit. Their first duel in that cave in Dannagh Desert; their mutual rise as Commanders; their fall from grace...and now, degraded to mere weapons to be pointed at Ouroboros by the Queen of Keves, lest Colony 4 be annihilated.)
Cammuravi caught onto her true meaning: why subject himself to become the pawn for Keves, the sworn enemy of his nation? "So you know?"
"There were rumors. That you were imprisoned. That you took the blame for the Colony's seizure." (Your reputation, if you had only leveraged it, could have allowed you to return to the battlefield before now; she did not say this aloud, even though he could tell she wantedto .)
"It was only fitting." That was all he would say on the matter. (How else was he supposed to explain his irrational feelings on this regard? That he trusted in their mysterious bond to see him through, that he trusted their solemn vow would have been fulfilled regardless?)
Ethel, it seemed, was far more pessimistic; her recent experiences with the Consuls and her Queen must have been quite negative, for she darkly muttered, "Perhaps I should have killed you there and then." Better a warrior's death on the battlefield, than to be reduced to...this.
Even though he agreed, he could not let her doubt herself (lest he also doubt himself). "Only through death...can our feud be resolved. In a way, I am grateful." The abject humiliation of his imprisonment and the degradation of his accomplishments...naught but ashes, in the face of this unique opportunity. "Now that I have been blessed with a Ferronis...and another chance."
"Another chance..." whispered Ethel. He wondered what she was thinking about, at this moment. Perhaps of how they were bound in yet another sense, now: of how the purple Flame Clocks on their new Ferronises were tied to their lives, in unison.
(You find it only proper.)
Still...before he committed himself to the upcoming battle, he needed her assurance about Ouroboros, about these Kevesi and Agnian rebels with strange powers and unknown goals.
Ethel had simply called them hope personified: everyone's hope, and not just hers. Her relieved smile, directed at him, only convinced him of how things were going to end. "I see." We are to be the kindling for Ouroboros: to help their fire grow in a tomorrow we'll never reach. "Then there's only one choice," he said with a resigned tone.
"Yes. Only one," she agreed. (In his heart of hearts, he believed that she felt as sad as he did.)
xxxx
It was yet another vow, made without words.
In the face of the Consuls' duplicity, and the threat made by Keves's Queen to one of her own Colonies...they knew this next battle would be their last.
If nothing else, they had resigned themselves to testing Ouroboros's mettle, ensuring that they had the strength to live on...even if it galled, to let their vow go unfulfilled.
Alas, Consul P would prove to be too impatient, and Consul O would resort to a foolish method to bring him to heel: what was the sting of an Iris's command, compared to the purity of his vow?
What did it matter, in the face of the one who made his flame burn brightest?
What did other 'enemies' matter, when Silvercloak Ethel was right there?
xxxx
"I am under no one's yoke! I will be as they are! I am free!" Crushing his left eye in his hand, Cammuravi held his spear with pride.
"Free...you're right...we're free!" (Even if Ethel's Iris was no longer subject to being controlled, she was bound to him; if he was not free, then she wasn't free...and vice-versa.) "Free! The two of us!" echoed her voice from the speakers of her Ferronis.
Ignoring Ourboros's palpable confusion, he grinned. "Attend, Ethel!"
"Yes! Our dream will not perish!"
They made some distance...and promptly turned their Ferronises' weapons on each other, resuming their long-delayed duel, on the battlefield they knew would be their grave.
All thoughts of their Colonies faded; they would entrust the safety of Colony 4, and the future, to Ouroboros. Even the threat of the Consuls meant nothing in the face of this moment, where they could put everything on the line.
"This feeling of elation...liberating, is it not?" he said, giving voice to the joy that inflamed his heart.
"I feel it too, Cammuravi!" replied Ethel, as her Ferronis parried his great spear.
Each blow echoed back to that day, seven terms ago, when mere children had met each other on the battlefield. From that fateful clash, something precious had bloomed...yet it had grown under the constraints of the war, of their positions as Commanders, of their duties and obligations. Here, and now? It was free to grow into something more.
(Whatever Ouroboros had done to 'open her eyes', as Ethel had put it? He was eternally grateful.)
Even as the petulant Consuls forced the remnants of their life force to leak away — red motes of bloody glory, a testament to the vibrancy of their lives — Ouroboros seemed determined to stop this conflict. How fortunate, that Ethel's words were enough to stop them in their tracks, despite their protests.
(They were not warriors; they did not follow the Way that he and Ethel had walked after all this time: the Way consecrated with each other's blood, and their own.)
He felt something akin to pity, when one of the girls spoke of how they had no reason to fight each other. How sad, that their eyes were not yet open: the only reason they had even lived this long was because of how they had fought each other, over and over and over.
"You might not understand now, but someday you will," answered Ethel, speaking on his behalf. "This is what I...this is what both of us want!"
Ouroboros would carry their aspirations into the future. Ethel imposed this obligation on them, knowing that they would do so, even if they did not yet understand.
Free of their lingering attachments, released from all that bound them to this world...there was only one thing left. "Here I come! CAMMURAVI!"
"Let us cross blades...one last time!" As he reared his weapon, his grin reduced into something smaller, yet no less potent for it: a satisfied smile, content with the course of his life.
(In this moment, his spear would not be held at her helpless face; her sword would not be hovering above his defenseless form; now, at the culmination of all things, they would bring their weapons to bear, with everything they had.)
As one, they charged; glowing crimson, they roared in defiance of the world.
His Ferronis delivered a mighty pierce, right as hers leapt and struck with a dual thrust.
Their titanic weapons broke through as one; at the very end, there was naught but clarity. Their Ferronises were face-to-face, as they themselves had once been, in the flesh; in this moment, nothing existed beyond Ethel and Cammuravi; even their titles had been cast aside.
As their Flame Clocks bled away in their entirety, and their bodies began to dissolve...the last thing Cammuravi witnessed, through the eyes of his Ferronis (through the bond they had, however strange it was), was Ethel's smile.
Beautiful.
He only hoped that his last smile had likewise revealed the depths of his joy to her, the woman that meant everything to him: his rival in life, and in death.
(The first time they had met, their bodies had collapsed to the ground, broken by weariness.)
(This time, their bodies — immortalized in memoriam by the Ferronises — would remain standing as an unyielding testament to everything they had been.)
xxxx
In the end, Ouroboros would wonder about the meaning of this battle, and why Ethel and Cammuravi had chosen to end it the way they had.
Of their group, Lanz had been the closest to the mark.
"Those two...fought for their ideal..." murmured Lanz, looking at the silent husks of the mighty Ferronises. "Something more important than their lives."
Yet, as they would find out at Keves Castle, and later at Colony Omega...in Aionios, death was never merely an end, but also a beginning.
xxxx
Author's Note: I have a strange feeling that 'reborn' is a clumsy translation of the original line, because it would make no sense for Ethel to look forward to a rematch with Cammuravi if she suspected him to be dead...and at that time, as far as we know from the game itself, she and Cammuravi had no knowledge of the cycle of rebirth. Even so, I tried to make it fit.
Anyhow, this won't be the last time I write about Ethel and Cammuravi, but I needed to get this out of my head about the archetypal 'Shounen Rivals' of Xenoblade 3.