Thancred's pulse pounded in his ears. His breath ran ragged, fetid sewer air sour upon the pallet. Splashing footsteps, his and Y'shtola's- and the roaring murmer of hundreds more behind them in the dark. He'd made a few paniced escapes in his life, but there was far more at stake now then his own skin.
"Are they- far enough- ahead?" he gasped.
"No," said Y'shtola, breathlessly. "And we are gaining."
Gaining?! Thancred slacked his pace and came to a staggering stop. Y'shtola matched him, also breathing heavily, but her sea-green eyes glimmered cat-like in the near light of her wand. Her brow was furrowed, a serious frown on her lips, even as she gasped for air, open-mouthed. Composed and calculating, even after sprinting through the literal sewer of Eorzea. That was Y'shtola.
"Minfilia and the Warrior need more time, Thancred," said Y'shtola, her gaze like iron.
Thancred returned her stare, his mind doing the requisite calculation: this was it. The end of the long show. He would die in the dark, his last breath drawn in the black water of Uldah. A small part of him rebelled at the thought. A tiny coward, deep inside, screamed against the injustice of the world He should be ahead, Minfilia at his side, escaping danger together like they had so many times before all this. Before-
Thancred crushed that voice. Slammed the door shut. Locked it.
He wasn't alone. He had a friend at his side. And he would die for his duty. For a friend. What better way was there to end… all this?
"Understood," said Thancred, drawing out his long knives. "I'll keep them off you for as long as I can. Got something special up your sleeve? I'd like to go out big, you know?"
"Oh, I can think of a thing or two…" said Y'shtola, cool and calm, a small smile in the corner of her mouth.
A new set of splashing footsteps gained their attention, and it was coming from ahead of them, and not behind. One person, alone and light of weight. Someone was coming back to them. Dread rolled through Thancred's gut. Twelve-forefend! It couldn't be-
A lithe, blond woman ran into the faint pool of light cast by Y'shtola's wand. Her face was full of relief, despite the heavy breathing. The blue eyes that had haunted Thancred's mind were before him, seeming to glow in the dimness.
"Minfilia!" exclaimed Thancred and Y'shtola.
"Damnit, Minfilia," snarled Thancred, anger and frustration suddenly boiling through him. He'd just committed to dying for this damn woman! So that she could get away from here! And she had fucking run back?! This wasn't how it was supposed to go! "What are you thinking?!"
Minfilia gasped, air flowing over lips that Thancred had spent long nights wondering about. "I have to- be here-. She told me."
Thancred saw Y'shtola frown in deeper concentration. She'd clearly gained some sort of understanding from Minfilia's ragged words that he had not. Why would 'she' send back Minfilia to her death?!
"The Warrior sent you back?! Why?!"
Minfilia shook her head around another gasping breath. "Not her! Hydaelyn!"
Thancred's mind blanked for a moment, then caught up. "Your damned god told you to come die with us? And you listened?!"
It was an old argument between them. Minfilia didn't respond, but her blue eyes gave him a look of disappointment that slashed Thancred across the heart. Then, Minfilia's expression became as clear and confident as he had ever seen her.
"Yes," said Minfilia. "I'm supposed to be here."
Then her shoulder's slumped slightly. "Though I don't know why… I can't do anything."
A quiet moment in the dark, the sloshing horde of soldiers getting ever closer.
"Then She must be counting on me," said Y'shtola. "I think I see it. I just need to cast two spells at once."
"See what?" said Thancred.
"T-two? Is that even possible?" said Minfilia.
But Y'shtola's eyes were already closed and her silver hair beginning to billow with the movements of an unseen wind. Aether was building around them- an invisible, grumbling current that buzzed at the underneath of Thancred's navel. He'd spent enough time around sorcerers to recognize a spell being crafted, but this was already building to a level he'd only felt once before: Ultima.
The light of Y'shtola's wand grew from a soft candle to a blazing beacon. Thancred winced away from the glare. His own hair was billowing in the eddies of ethereal winds beyond his perception- Minfilia's too, blond strands flowing like from an ocean gale.
"I fear I cannot precisely grip this working," said Y'shtola, her voice strangely deep. Her eyes opened and they blazed forth like green torches, aether simmering under the iris like small stars. "Should I never see you both again. Farewell."
"Y'shtola!," shouted Thancred and Minfilia, but fear of disrupting their friend's efforts, they watched in paralysis as their friend gave them a soft smile, then closed her eyes and began to levitate from the soiled water that flowed past their legs.
The currents of magic concentrated, building to an imminent and frightening climax. Thancred felt himself vibrate- felt his very soul vibrate with Y'shtola's gathered aether. Or was it also the ground shaking? Or perhaps it was both?
Thancred watched Y'shtola rise slowly into the air. The light of her wand illuminating the massive stonework of the aqueduct all about them- and the alarmingly large and growing cracks in the ceiling above them all. Y'shtola suddenly thrust up her right arm.
Thancred's universe became only light.
