Chapter 3: (Aymeric)
"Upon the souls of they who have sacrificed themselves to pave the way for peace, we will never abandon our cause."
- Ser Aymeric de Borel of Ishgard
It seems to be snowing a little more than usual lately.
Ser Aymeric was finally able to set aside his mountain of paperwork and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion as he thought longingly of a hot bath and a filling meal when he returned home. He had been staring at so many papers that day that he was starting to go cross-eyed and light-headed—which he took as a sign to finish up for now.
He had just rising from his seat, his legs stiff and sore, before he caught sight of the window to see a soft flurry of snow drifting down from the sky. Large, fat flakes that drifted lazily upon a breeze, quickly covering the ground with a thin layer of snow like a blanket.
He smiled faintly at the sight. One would think that you would grow tired of constant snowfall… normally, that was true, but he could still recall when he was a young child and how excited he would be when he would see snow like this. Of course, that was back in the days before the Calamity, before an eternal winter came to Ishgard. Though he knew that the weather and the very land itself had permanently come to Coerthas, he would be lying if he didn't secretly hope that maybe the snows would lighten up and bring summer back to them one day if even for a short time.
But after the threat of the Final Days, even a snowstorm seemed beautiful to him at the moment. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, deciding to finish the last report tomorrow, before he extinguished the lanterns in the office and left the Congregation for the chilly air outside.
He let out a long sigh, watching his breath fog up in front of him upon the wind and dissolve as quickly as it came as he walked along the stone streets—leaving faint footprints in the dusting of snow. He pulled up the collar of his armor slightly as he did so, wishing that his ears didn't ache so in such cold… usually if he was in battle, running about to stay alive was more than enough to keep him warm… or if back when he was still battling with dragons, he could always rely upon their fire while they tried to devour him.
How times have changed.
He smirked at that thought as he wandered about, wondering more and more how his friends were doing. The sun was setting in the sky, heading quickly towards twilight, and there were still people about the city finishing up their shopping or returning home from work.
Many spotted him and gave friendly waves or smiles, which he returned. He still found it a little lonely wandering the streets on his own. Ever since Lucia left with the Ilsabard Contingent, he found himself missing her company more than ever. He always knew that she had done much for him, but these last few weeks without her presence really showed him how much he had come to depend upon her. He hoped that she and the others who remained in Garlemald were doing well.
Mayhaps he should reach out and check on their forces there, just to see how they have all been fairing?
But no sooner did he think that did he stop dead, half convinced that his exhaustion was playing tricks on his mind, when he saw a familiar figure heading up the stairs towards the Last Vigil.
"Estinien?" he called out as he hurried over to greet his oldest friend while the former Azure Dragoon paused and turned to look at him with raised eyebrows.
"I hadn't expected to run into you right away, I figured that you would still be hard at work, all but tied to your chair," he answered with his usual dry humor.
Aymeric just beamed at him, honestly having a hard time recalling when the two last spoke. "What brings you back to Ishgard this day, my friend? I was under the impression that you were still in Sharlayan?"
"I was, but I had some business here in Ishgard," he stated casually. "Nothing serious mind. I was going to come and speak with you directly once I took care of something else. I had promised to deliver something for someone first."
"I see, well, if it's not too much trouble, may I be allowed to join you? I have been eagerly awaiting the chance to speak with you again when you had the time?" Aymeric offered and Estinien shrugged in that 'I don't care' sort of way that would have caused most to back off in intimidation. But Aymeric knew Estinien cankerous mannerisms for far too long to be turned away that easily and soon the two of them were enjoying the rare time speaking with one another as they continued upwards towards the Last Vigil.
"Don't tell me you're pinning for company that much?" Estinien stated as they climbed the stairs that led to just outside the Hoplon. "Lucia hasn't been gone that long."
"Is it a crime to simply wish for a stroll with their oldest friend?" Aymeric asked cheerfully. "And, of course, I wish to hear all of your experiences on all that has occurred during your time away. I can only imagine how exciting your life must be since joining the Scions?"
"Hmph, well, there's never a dull moment with them around, if you must know," he confessed slowly and Aymeric could see that he was fighting the urge to smile at the mention of the Scions. "I did, by chance, meet with Alphinaud's parents when last I was in Sharlayan. Let me just say that after speaking with them…? It explains much of him."
"Truly?" Aymeric laughed. "Feel free to speak of it. But before you do, does your business take you to Fortemps Manor by chance?"
"That obvious? Aye, I promised to deliver a letter of sorts," he said vaguely and he shrugged when Aymeric asked what the letter entailed. Aymeric did change the subject as he spoke more of the Scions… the problem was that Estinien was a terrible story-teller.
When he asked of the burning skies over Thavnair, Estinien's blunt reply was: "Yeah, I flew through the sky on the back of a dragon as we fought blasphemies."
When he asked of finishing the Ragnarok…? "I didn't do anything. I carried some heavy crates with some rare ore so that they could finish the ship."
Or when he asked about what it was like upon the edge of the universe…?
"Oh, yeah, saw the ghostly images of dragons who died out centuries ago before I willingly sacrificed myself and turned into the wind to help the others continue forward," Estinien shrugged like it was no big deal.
Aymeric wasn't sure what to think of that one? So he continued to try and prod him for some more information until they arrived outside Fortemps Manor, where Estinien requested to speak with Lord Edmont to the guard outside and they were let in. They were guided to the main hall where they continued to talk, with Estinien reassuring him that he had spoken with Lucia very recently and she was doing well at her current position in Garlemald.
A few minutes later, Lord Edmont entered the room, looking bright-eyed and eager when he saw them both there.
"Well, this certainly is a pleasant surprise," he said as he looked over the pair of them fondly. "The Lord Commander and the Azure Dragoon come to call upon me? It is so good to see you both looking so well and in good spirits."
Estinien raised a hand and stated, "Please, I am no longer the Azure Dragoon. I cast that title aside at the end of the war. But, tis good to see you as well."
Lord Edmont gave him a kind smile before looking over them both, asking what it was that brought them here. Estinien merely pulled an envelope from the satchel at his side and held it out for him. "I came for two things. One of which was that I was asked to deliver this to you directly."
Lord Edmont took the letter curiously before Estinien turned back to Aymeric and said, "The second reason is that there is something that I feel that you need to know?"
Aymeric was surprised at that before Estinien quickly said what he wanted and a wave of surprise and understanding washed over him at this revelation. He figured that it may happen one day… but he didn't think that it would be coming this soon?
"So, the Scions will soon disband?" he summed up carefully and Estinien nodded.
"We talked it all over at length, and it's all but decided," he confirmed. "We still need to inform the other members of the Grand Company of Eorzea, which we will be doing as soon as our mutual friend is strong enough to leave her sickbed. But I thought to deliver the news to you in person while I was here."
"The end of an era, it seems," Lord Edmont stated slowly as he thought that over. "What will become of the Scions once the dust has settled? Do any of you have any plans?"
"That is up to everyone else to decide," Estinien answered back. "It will still take time to make everything official and to tie up any loose ends… but once all is said and done, everyone will be free to decide where they want to go and what to do."
Aymeric wasn't sure what to think of that. He pondered this all over before his mouth formed the words, "In a sense, I guess we should see this as a good thing. If the Scions truly feel that they are no longer needed…?"
"With the Final Days averted, never has there a better time to be able to tie up loose ends," Estinien answered. "Not only that, but with new peace between the beast tribes, a way to both fight and cure the tempered, not to mention with Garlemald and the Ascians no longer a threat…?"
"My, when they first came here to Ishgard, I knew that their goals were great and their enemies ever greater… but to think that we would have reached this point…?" Lord Edmont whispered in amazement as he tucked the letter into his pocket, promising to read it later—already having a good idea to who it was from—and he couldn't help but smile a second later as he asked, "I suppose that means that our Mistress Faye will finally be receiving a break?"
"One of the reasons we feel this is the best option is that we suspect that our mutual friend will be pushed into ever more unpleasant situations. Whether or not she accepts such dangerous roles in the future is all on her," he stated and Aymeric's eyes widened for a moment before they shut sadly.
"I can see that," he acknowledged. "I remember asking her once what she had planned to do when the dust settled, but she never gave me an answer. Oh, this will be good though…? I can only imagine how relieved she will feel now that she no longer has to carry such a heavy burden of so many nations upon her shoulders anymore…?"
"Ha! Like that's going to stop her? She doesn't strike me as the type to take to the quiet life," Estinien pointed out knowingly. "She'll find ways to keep herself busy, I bet you anything."
"Mayhaps," Aymeric nodded, knowing that the life of an adventurer was one full of excitement and he couldn't imagine her deciding to settle down in one place for long. Still, with these many responsibilities now behind her, she was free of all the restrictions that come with being the Warrior of Light.
He was happy for her.
"Did she say what she was planning on doing, or where she was going to next?" he asked curiously and Estinien shrugged.
"I don't think she really has a clear place in mind yet," he answered gruffly. "Though I am curious enough to want to ask her myself when next I see her. Like I said, I'm sure she'll find something to keep her entertained though. If nothing else, she can go out and hunt down those tomestones that adventurers are so fond of collecting. I can't imagine doing that, myself. It looks like it would become a daily grind very quickly. Though she's got plenty of time to think it over while she's stuck in bed."
"Ah, I've been meaning to ask, how is her recovery coming along? We have all been worried for her," Lord Edmont asked in concern.
"She's coming along very well at the moment," Estinien answered. "The twins have hardly stopped their hovering over her since she woke up. Though I know she's too polite to say it, I believe that their insistent worrying is starting to get on her nerves."
"That is gladdening to hear," Lord Edmont beamed. "Does she need anything else at all? If so…?"
"She didn't specifically request anything, but I wouldn't worry, she's being treated like royalty for the moment," he answered with a shrug. "Never thought I would meet someone who is so opposed to being waited upon hand and foot."
"You mean you never thought you would meet someone else so opposed to it," Aymeric pointed out, knowing that there was at least one other person in the room who hated to be fussed over like that.
"Like you're any better," Estinien reminded him, digging an elbow into Aymeric's side, who could only snigger back guiltily.
"Hmmm, he's got a point, actually. I can't help but worry that you may be rather stressed in recent days, Ser Aymeric. I imagine that you must be having a hard time what with both your duties to the Alliance and to Ishgard…?" Lord Edmont agreed slowly.
"Oh, there is no need to worry about me, I can handle this," Aymeric insisted quickly but both of them were looking at him with dubious eyes.
"Somehow I doubt that you aren't working yourself to exhaustion," Estinien commented slowly, observing him with a critical eye.
"Mayhaps you are pushing yourself too hard?" Lord Edmont commented sagely. "You have so much on your plate as it is, Ser Aymeric, would it not behoove you to take a couple days off for your health? I am certain that the Houses of Lords and Commons can get along for surely that long in light of all that has happened?"
"Ah, that sounds blissful, Lord Edmont," he confessed. "Alas, I fear that with so much work to be done, I cannot risk it."
"I told you," Estinien stated in a matter-of-fact way to the former Count, "He's a workaholic. He'll consider taking a break once he runs himself ragged and is out of excuses."
"Well, I have some time right now," Aymeric said with a rather sly smile as his eyes became bright and eager as he looked to his friend.
So the three of them sat in front of the fire and talked for a short time, mostly about the changes that have been coming to Ishgard, both with the Firmament and continued dealings with the other nations of Eorzea. Estinien was more than helpful in discussing how affairs were going with the blasphemies in other parts of the world as well. While Emmanellain's reports gave some information, to hear it from a first-hand experience was so much more informative. He made sure to put down everything he learned to memory and vowed to redouble his efforts to find the connection between the transformed victims.
Soon enough though, Estinien looked to the window to see how the street lights were suddenly glowing and he stated he best be on his way. They got up from the sofa as Lord Edmont escorted the two of them as far as to the front door and was bidding them farewells.
"Are you certain that you wish to leave now, Ser Estinien?" Lord Edmont asked him. "It's dreadfully cold this day and it looks like another blizzard is on its way. Would you not stay the night and set off in the morning?"
"You are kind, but I must refuse," Estinien responded simply. "I must return to Sharlayan, lest Alphinaud begins to fret that I decided to pull another disappearing act on him."
Lord Edmont chuckled at that and informed him, "I see. Well, when you next see him, please send him my warmest regards. But remember that you are welcomed here anytime."
Estinien nodded in an appreciating way before holding up an arm in farewell, and turned away to head down the street. But before he took more than a few steps, Lord Edmont asked suddenly, "Before you leave, Ser Estinien, have you given any thought to what you will do with the Scions disbanding?"
Estinien paused at that and seemed to think it over for a few seconds before he gave an unconcerned shrug as he confessed, "In all honesty, it hadn't crossed my mind till now. I'm not worried though, I'm sure to find something to occupy my time."
"Mayhaps you could become a guard here?" Aymeric asked with a smile. "I'm sure you'll be popular?"
Estinien responded with a few colorful choice of words that Aymeric wondered if he learned while visiting Limsa Lominsa.
*Two Weeks Later*
Aymeric wanted to check and see if any other news was learned of their mutual friend, though the news was slowly trickling in.
It had already been a couple weeks since Emmanellain had returned to Ishgard with the wonderful news that she was alive; though it was frustrating not being aware of when she would be allowed to leave Sharlayan. He had even entertained the idea of leaving Ishgard for a short time to visit her—a perfect opportunity to see the famed city of knowledge as well…? But with the threat of the Blasphemies still at the forefront of everyone's minds, he was aware how irresponsible that would be right now.
Still, he made sure to check up with Fortemps Manor whenever he had the chance, and it always cheered him up to visit with such friendly faces. He found himself spending some of his free time simply speaking with Lord Edmont in front of the hearth as they talk about the day's events and he would gain valuable insight into issues that he had overlooked.
He hadn't had a chance to really do this since his own father died.
When he thought of his 'father' it wasn't the archbishop whom came to mind, but the man who took him in and raised him as his own.
The former Lord of House Borel.
He didn't know the exact circumstances of his adoption into their family, but the rumors had plagued him ever since he was a small child. He would grow so angry when he heard the cruel remarks that he was just a 'bastard's child' and how he had used his 'real father's' position to get to where he was in life.
While he was growing up, he remembered how more than once he wanted to march right into the Vault and demand answers from the archbishop himself …? But he could not stand the thought of what would become of his parents should he do that. So he bit his tongue and ignored it all as he focused on being the best son that he could for his parents.
Though when he was thirteen summers old, he did ask them for the full truth. He had always wanted to know but had feared in the answer. But he couldn't go on the rest of his life not knowing… and so he came out and asked them for details one evening and his parents shared a sad look with one another.
After a long silence, they told him all that they knew, and that while they did confirm that he was adopted by them when he was a newborn babe, they didn't know the full details. They knew that a high-ranking member of the church did give in to temptations… and that his birth mother died soon after his birth… they were never able to confirm for themselves if it had been the archbishop who had sired him.
Regardless of that, they understood what they were doing when took him in, knowing the difficulties that were sure to follow. This shocked him and he asked why they would, knowing that other households looked down upon them with pity for having such a child in their household.
They told him that even though they weren't related by blood, the Fury had a plan for him when She guided him to them. They told him how they had been unsuccessful with birthing an heir of their own and had all but given up hope of being able to raise a child… until he came along. When they were given the chance to raise him, they saw it as a sign and didn't hesitate to agree to take him into their home.
"You are a blessing unto our lives, my son," his adopted father promised him when Aymeric felt tears after hearing some biting remarks that some other children had said to him. "Don't ever question that."
He never did after that moment. Aymeric held onto those words in his heart and oftentimes they were all that kept him going as he pushed on. They were the solace that he took comfort in to help him walk ahead with his head held high when he was accepted into the Temple Knights. He remembered when he had first returned home after he completed his training and stood in full armor before his parents… how his mother wept tears of pride and hugged him tightly and how his father was beaming as he beheld his boy, now a grown man, and ready to serve the nation he loved so dearly.
When the day came that he had accepted his promotion to Lord Commander, his adopted father had been there to present to him the sword that he wore always at his side. Naegling was a Borel family heirloom that had been passed down for many years—one of a kind—and his adopted father told him to always keep it at his side for he prayed that it will be here to grant him strength in life.
His hand brushed over the hilt of said sword and he could all but feel the faith that his parents had in him through the metal.
It felt good to be able to have a tiny glimpse of that again with a man whom he had come to see as a second father and that he was doing so well. Lord Edmont had always been there to give him a sympathetic ear should he just needed someone to talk to, and he was more than happy to share more news of what he learned across the city. Since his retirement, the former Count has taken to writing more and more, and shortly before the completion of the Firmament, he had his memoirs fully published. First to Ishgard, and now his words were being carried across all of Eorzea and even reaching as far as Sharlayan. Apparently, his work had become increasingly popular of late—all the more so after the Final Days.
"It seems that everyone is eager to learn more of our charming friend," he had chuckled. "Such an embarrassing amount of riches have come with how much in demand that Heavensward has become. They even said that they ran out of copies weeks ago and they have back orders as they work to reprint more."
"That is marvelous to hear, Lord Edmont," Aymeric smiled, having read Heavensward himself and found himself truly touched and embarrassed to hear Lord Edmont's glowing words about how he, himself, and the role that he had in the war. "Though I fear that you may have been a bit too kind in writing about me."
Lord Edmont gave him a shrewd look and answered simply, "I wrote only what I saw, Ser Aymeric. Nothing I wrote was in any way exaggerated. Besides, I see it not only as a way to honor my son's memory, but also to help the city that he loved so dearly. Most of the money that I've earned from its publications has gone into rebuilding efforts across Ishgard. Lord Charlemend, for example, has been most eager these days with leading the effort in providing aid to Ishgard's most destitute. Why, just the other day, we finally completed the formation of a new school to teach the trade maintaining and flying airships. Not only do we have a way to help bring more prosperity to Ishgard, but also assisting in those who need it most a way of an honest living."
All in all, everything seemed to start to settle down, at least in some ways, since the Final Days. He had said it as a joke, at first, but he even made the formal request for Estinien to take up a permanent post back here in Ishgard as a guard if it suited him.
Estinien surprised him by paying a quick visit directly to the Congregation of the Knights Most Heavenly not long after that request, having come to see them all briefly before he would leave again, this time stating that he would be off to Thavnair. It seems that he was able to find new employment in Radz-at-Han—at the request of one of the First Brood of all beings.
How times have changed, indeed.
But before he left, Estinien did make sure to leave behind a gift for him.
At least, Aymeric assumed it that way because when he entered his office after bidding Estinien farewell, and found a box on his desk. Curious, he opened the lid and looked inside…?
…?
Only to burst out laughing at the sight of the costume and knew at once what Estinien was trying to say. Though there was no missive with the package, he understood completely when he glanced over the Gaja outfit.
He picked up the giant plush head and couldn't help but admire that his ears would most certainly remain warm if he wore it in the cold, if nothing else. He smirked at the idea of actually walking around Ishgard with this on…? He was actually tempted to do so.
Perhaps something to think about once everything officially settled down in the city?
And then… mayhaps some time for him to see a little more beyond Ishgardian borders?
He gazed out at the falling snows once more and felt his heart ache. Not a day goes by that he didn't think about Claire and what she had gifted to him and Ishgard. If not for her, they would most likely be under the heel of a primal… or having been slaughtered by Nidhogg's horde.
He heard the stories, the rumors that spoke of a slayer of gods and he wasn't too proud to admit that he was fascinated by such tales. He wanted to know more and when he was finally able to put a face to the name, he found himself growing more and more fascinated by this selfless hero of whom the bards sung of. She offered a new insight for him of things that he never thought of before. He quickly understood the reason for this was because of how worldly and well-traveled she was. It was for this reason that she could see though to the heart of the matter and bring a breath of fresh air to this otherwise stifled city.
How he longed for the same kind of understanding of the world through such adventures.
"Why don't you join me on the next one?"
Oh, how tempted he was to do so. He liked to think of himself as strong, but not enough to escape the allure of the wider world. He could only imagine the sights that he could see…? Though he did hope that he would be able to see more of the world in time, he could never leave Ishgard for long periods of time.
He had always wished for reform in Ishgard, but he learned the hard way that change was best if not forced. He moved slowly for the sake of stability and to ease his people into a new world of opportunities. And it wasn't like he was doing it alone either, for he had the support of many, especially when it came to the newly named Count of House Fortemps, who was both eager and willing to assist in any way he could. With Lord Artoirel constantly at his side, he found that he was making good strives in the reformation of Ishgard.
The problem was that while the city and governance was changing for the better… the same thing could not be said of the church. And with the revelation that most of the transformations were happening to those of the cloth…?
He frowned as he looked over the greatest threat of these blasphemies resembled a dragon. He had been looking everywhere for information on who this mysterious person could have been…? There had to be some kind of pattern there, he knew it. Yet, no one knew who this victim had been, nor recognized him from the church… so who were they? And what was it that they were hoping to do now?
He sighed as he ran a weary hand through his hair.
The reason that this thought was at the forefront of his mind recently was because he had learned that Claire had recently returned to Eorzea, pretty much completely healed at long last. While this was grand news and a great comfort to him…?
He couldn't help but wish that he had another excuse to be able to look elsewhere for assistance.
He wanted to ask for her help in this matter, but a part of him couldn't shake the slight sting of shame. After all that she had done, how could he even think to ask for another favor? At this point, he feared that she may be growing sick to death of him asking for aid. She had saved the entire world already! He had no right to ask for her additional help!
Aymeric, feeling desperate, confessed how he felt to Lord Edmont and how he feared that he was coming to overly rely upon their friend for so much.
"We are doing our best to hunt down this blasphemy, but I can't help but want to give in to the urge to contact her and ask for her steadying hand," he stated anxiously. "But I'm sure that she's still reeling from the heavy burden we placed upon her shoulders when she agreed to go to the edge of the universe to halt the Final Days. And that is to speak nothing of how the Dragonsong War was ending by her hands! Knowing all this, how could I dare ask for more?"
Lord Edmont didn't answer at first as he took a long sip of tea, thinking it all over as he thought of a way to answer. Finally, he set the cup down with a slight clatter upon the saucer and turned his kind eyes upon him.
"In my honest opinion, I do think that the people must learn not to run to her whenever something goes wrong. I think it would be one thing if you were constantly asking her for her opinions on Ishgard's policies or expected her to read your reports day after day… this is a matter which concerns all of Ishgard and its people. As such, we cannot afford to overlook anything," he reminded him gently. "There is no shame in asking for aid when you are in over your head… especially when innocent lives are on the line, Ser Aymeric. I know that she would be upset if you didn't think to ask her for help when you had the chance and something ended up happening that we cannot take back."
"I know she would be," Aymeric answered with a sad smile. He knew better than anyone that if he were to ask, she would be here in a heartbeat, ready bring relief to the people in whatever way she could. She had a true gift being able to move people's hearts… and if they knew that the Savior of Ishgard was on the case with the blasphemies, then that would do much to ease the people's fears. But still, a part of him feared that he was becoming overly dependent upon her giving nature.
But he could not deny the wisdom in Lord Edmont's words.
After thinking it all over, he nodded and raised his head to look him in the eyes.
"Very well," he said in agreement. "But before I do, I wish to speak with our knight position in Radz-at-Han and see what other information he was able to gleam from the other nations. Perhaps we will find something new. If we are unable to learn of any news or unable to receive any other calls for assistance… then I will ask for her help in this matter."
Lord Edmont gazed at him and nodded sagely before advising, "You mentioned that it was mostly those most devoted to the church who are transforming into these creatures, did you not? Mayhaps having her around would be the best thing at the moment anyway. For you cannot tell me you haven't heard the whispers around the city? Within her, the people glimpse the Fury herself. Most in Eorzea see Halone as a battle-hardened maiden with a lust for brutal conflict. But to we, Ishgardians, we see instead a being with unrelenting courage upon an uncertain road. I know no other who better symbolizes this than Mistress Faye. And the people see it to. It comforts them greatly. I fear it will be a matter of time before they start to believe she is the Fury incarnate."
Aymeric knew that Lord Edmont was only half joking at that, but he couldn't help but let his mind continue to ponder this. The Faith of the Fury was what helped to unite the people for the last thousand years. They had a long way to go to help the people continue to rebuild their lives after all had been revealed. Could this shaken faith be the reason that so many blasphemies were born from the souls of the church?
"It's hard to see where we need to go from here," Aymeric stated with an air of exhaustion. "I'm sure that she's already busy with the Scions getting ready to officially disband?"
"Actually, most of the other Scions have been taking care of that," Lord Edmont said with certainty. "She is actually looking forward to travelling again very soon."
"How do you know of all that?" Aymeric asked in surprise, his head jerking up, as Lord Edmont chuckled at the look on his face. Rather than answer, he got up from the sofa and walked over to the mantel over the fireplace where an elaborated box sat—a box that Aymeric never remembered being there before. He waited as Lord Edmont took it down and brought it back to the table where he opened it up to reveal a cluster of letters nestled inside.
He picked up a few of them and glanced at them fondly before holding them out for Aymeric to read.
"Claire has been kind enough to start sending me letters on her journey," he smiled fondly. "I think she worries about me and wants to let me know that she is well. Do you recall when Estinien came to visit us and handed me that letter? It turns out it was from her. Inside it, she told me of the inhabitants of the moon! Never did I imagine such a thing possible!"
Aymeric's eyes lit up at the sight of the letters and he wanted so badly to start reading them here and now and Lord Edmont chuckled again and stated, "By all means. I don't think that she would mind if you looked over a few of them."
Aymeric eagerly reached out and began to look through the thick pile, not noticing how Lord Edmont took one of the letters and tucked it into his pocket. As he went about pouring another cup of tea, Aymeric's eyes glanced over the letters as he began to read of such fantastical places that stirred the imagination. Of the sights in the Far East of Doma and the sweeping grasslands of the Azim Steppe where the wandering tribes of warriors lived? Of the ruins found within the Golmore Jungle which spoke of a lost monastery and ghostly images of heroes from the past…? Of a completely other world, including a land that was home to pixies and other such whimsical creatures or of a city with a sparkling tower that seemed to touch the heavens…?
The more he read, the more she would mention things such as the humid climes of Thavnair with the city that was awash with more colors than one thought possible, ruled over by one of the First Brood. Another spoke of the frigid lands of Garlemald and the ruined city of frost and ash as the people huddle together for warmth. The letter after that spoke of her journey to the moon, of the Lopporits and of the buildings upon the lunar surface…? One letter even spoke of how she was able to venture onto the very past itself! Able to witness the world before the Sundering and of the beauties that were found there before the moon was in the night sky…?
She was even able to include a few sketches to give him a better idea of some of these lands and he found his heart racing. Were these even real? If they had been from anyone else, he would be questioning the truth of such experiences. But he could all but feel the excitement written in each word… feel the trials and struggles as she put pin to paper.
"I feel that she was aching for something to do since her confinement in Sharlayan, for I have been receiving letters surprisingly often nowadays," Lord Edmont explained with a smile.
"I feel that these could be written into plays or storybooks," Aymeric said in amazement as he continued to look over them. "To think that travelling to other worlds…? The Moon…? The past itself…? Has she written about her experiences to Ultima Thule?"
"No, nothing like that yet," Lord Edmont answered. "I believe that it may be a bit too soon for such an event and we should let her tell us when she is ready. She did promise to visit soon when she next had time, so I am sure that she will be able to entertain us with more grand stories when she does."
"Incredible," Aymeric sighed in longing.
He fell silent as he turns each page, his fingers running along the paper punctuated only by the tiny divots where the pen scratched a little deeper in that slanted but neat handwriting. His eyes trailed over the parchment itself, some of them having slight tears or stains upon the paper as if they were written outside in all sorts of weather…? He smiled at the thought, for he could imagine her stubbornly sitting and writing out a full page even if there was blizzard raging around her. In fact, the letter she wrote while in Garlemald had a slight tremble to the pen as if she was shivering when writing.
He was so lost in such tales of these faraway places that he had temporarily forgotten where he was and only remembered when one of the servants knocked upon the door and Lord Edmont called them in. Aymeric looked up, slightly startled, when the servant had asked if there was aught else that the two of them required for the rest of the evening.
"Oh, perhaps a little wine would be nice before you retire, my friend," Lord Edmont agreed kindly to the servant. "Just bring us up a bottle from the cellar."
The servant bowed and left them as Aymeric rubbed his eyes.
"Forgive me," he said, as if coming out of a stupor, "I seemed to have lost track of the time…?"
"I find myself doing that a lot whenever looking over them," he agreed with a grin as he pushed a tray of biscuits towards him. "Now I insist that you stay for at least one glass and some food before you are to head home. I will not take no for an answer."
Aymeric knew that he couldn't hope to refuse such an offer and nodded as they talked about the letters until the servant came back with the wine. Aymeric chose to stay until he had two glasses, but when his eyes glanced towards the window and he saw that the sun had almost set at this point, he felt that he was now just looking for excuses to remain at this point. He had to be up and to his desk early tomorrow after all.
He took a deep breath before carefully placing all the letters into the box and closed the lid slowly, all the while feeling the comfortable sensation of relaxation settling into his body.
"I appreciate all that you have done for me, Lord Edmont," he told him. "Truly, without it, I fear I would be struggling under the weight of all that is expected of me these days."
Lord Edmont just shook his head and confessed, "I fear that much of those expectations are under your own self-imposed responsibility. That you should choose to shoulder it speaks more of your own resolve than anything else. Please do not worry so for us. Like I've said so many times, you are always welcomed here."
Aymeric then noticed how Lord Edmont's eyes turned to the fireplace. At first, Aymeric thought that he was fixated upon the fire itself as it crackled happily in the hearth. But no, he realized that his head was tilted slightly, and as he looked over the shifting glimmering of the flames, he realized that he was looking to the shield mounted upon the wall, of the red unicorn cloaked with black thorns. Upon its polished metal, it seemed to cast a glow from the warm light below it and Aymeric could only imagine just what was going through Lord Edmont's mind right now.
"And should you ever require someone to talk to, know that I shall always be here for you as well," Aymeric told him, causing Lord Edmont to look back at him in surprise.
A comfortable silence passed between the two of them as an invisible understanding seemed to have been felt by each.
"Thank you," he answered back.
Aymeric could only smile and nod at that as he stood up. He couldn't remember the last time that he had been able to enjoy these quiet nights. "I promise that I shall stop by more often and not to stay as late as I have been lately."
"Do not fret about the time, just seeing that you are well is enough," Lord Edmont reassured him, placing a comforting hand upon his shoulder. A wonderful warmth filled his very soul at those words and he closed his eyes for a brief second as he breathed in the slightly smoky air from the warm fire in the hearth.
He felt truly at peace whenever he came here. And he knew that he did have a place where he could rest his head should he truly need it. Aymeric wouldn't give up on his dream to see more of the world someday… but he was a patient man. He could wait a time until he was sure that Ishgard no longer needed him to hold onto the reins as often as he does now. Until that day, he was content to have this place here for him where he would always be welcomed and comforted should he need it.
Lord Edmont also replaced the box of letters upon the mantel before Aymeric bowed low, thanking him for his hospitality before he headed to the door. Yet no sooner did he open it did he stop dead in his tracks.
A familiar figure was standing there, her hand held up in a fist about to knock upon the polished wood.
"Claire…?" he repeated, a little stunned.
She blinked before smiling sweetly at him and lowering her hand.
"Good Evening, Ser Aymeric," she said. "I… I was wondering if Lord Edmont was in?"
"Ah, I know that voice anywhere," Lord Edmont called from over his shoulder and a grin was clear in his voice as eager footsteps came up behind him.
It was just the shock of seeing her so suddenly after just talking about her that caused him to freeze up. But once it settled in that she was here, alive and well, a warm smile quickly spread across Aymeric's face before he stepped aside and bowed her into the room. Deciding that he could probably stay for just one more glass.
Being a little tired when he got to work tomorrow seemed a small price to pay for having the rest of the evening spent in such good company.
(Since I have a long day at work tomorrow, I don't think that I would have been able to post this until late, so I felt that I'll give you all this chapter a little early just as my July 4th present to you all! But in all seriousness, they really did make a special character with Aymeric. It's sad that we don't get to see him as often as we used to, but it's always a joy when he does make an appearance. He has become more captivated with the WOL for all that they have done, and these bonds really do reach much deeper than the other leaders of the Alliance or even the Grand Company of Eorzea. Players have even made comments that he might have romantic feelings for the WOL, and can you blame them? Even if you choose to look at it as a more platonic love, the WOL has him wrapped around their finger even if they don't realize it! So yeah, Claire is feeling well enough to start travelling again and she came for a visit! And I can totally see her sending letters to Lord Edmont while she was confined in her room the last few weeks, though and I couldn't resist adding that in. Oh, but in case you were wondering about the letter that he took before Aymeric noticed? That was a very special letter and you'll find out what it's about soon enough. Anyway, that's it for now, hope you enjoyed it and see you next week!)