They passed through the towering city gate, leading their chocobos, and out into the desert lands on the far side. Red, jagged mountains raked the horizon, and the sky was endless blue. The ragged tents of refugees hugged the city walls as far as they could see in either direction.
Their chocobos had been stabled in a paddock just inside the city walls, and they were eager to taste freedom. They trotted and pecked at each other and fluttered their wings. When Bayan mounted Yin, the chocobo tried to shake him off and bit his leg. Bayan had to slap the bird's face several times before he stopped attacking.
"Negative consequences for negative behavior!" Zana called, running her own chocobo around and around a towering cactus. "Positive consequences for positive behavior! Never forget to reward him!"
Bayan produced a handful of Gysahl Greens, a sort of cabbage that chocobos loved more than any other food. Yin devoured the greens and hopefully examined Bayan for more. After that, he settled down and stopped inflicting his pent-up aggression on his master.
A Lalafel on a very small chocobo had arrived as they were struggling with their birds. He sat in silence, watching them with a serious expression. Like the rest of Fyrgeiss's servants, he wore red and gold, with a hat to protect his fair skin from the sun.
As Bayan got Yin under control, the Lalafel called, "Are you Bayan Avagnar, the warrior?"
"I am," said Bayan, guiding his bird forward.
"I am Rhon and I will guide you to the Cradle Mine," said the Lalafel. "Who are your companions?"
Bayan introduced them. Rhon shrugged and turned his bird toward the desert. "You all brought waterskins? Food? Good. It's half a day's ride out to the mine. We may not return until long after sundown."
Charles and Zana exchanged dismayed looks, but Bayan was unfazed. He had traveled in Thanalan before, and the vast distances did not surprise him.
They followed a hard-packed road away from the city and out into the desert. It was a rough, rocky place, all jagged volcanic mountains scored with deep gullies from rain runoff. Yellow-green scrub brush grew in the crevices and on the north sides of the hills, sucking every particle of moisture from the sandy soil.
The road led them into a canyon, where the walls shaded them from the merciless sun. There they came to a windmill that pumped water endlessly for thirsty cattle on the nearby range. A small herd of cows stood around it, and complained when the chocobos arrived. The birds pushed their way among the cattle and plunged their burning beaks into the cold water.
The riders dismounted and stretched their legs, helping themselves to their own waterskins.
They traversed the canyon for the next few hours. That afternoon, they emerged in the desert badlands, and saw the Cradle Mine below them.
It was a vast square hole in the ground, nearly big enough to swallow Ul'Dah, itself. The walls were made of sloping causeways that zigzagged their way deep into the earth, where miners used machines to drill out precious crystals. These were conveyed back to the surface via mine carts. Large wagons usually stood by to receive the crystal, pulled by teams of powerful oxen. But now the mine was being operated by the Amaljaa, and they hauled away crystal in carts they pulled themselves.
Each Amaljaa stood as tall as Bayan, and twice as broad in the shoulders. They were lizardfolk with ridiculously huge muscles, and thick tails that stick out stiffly behind them. Their scales were glossy black, and they wore colorful loincloths and decorative necklaces across their chests. Most of them carried swords the same size and weight as Bayan's greatsword.
"There they are," said Rhon, who had barely spoken throughout the journey. "Yours for the killing."
Bayan counted fifty Amaljaa moving about on the surface. There were probably twice that many out of sight below. Some stood guard, others shoveled ore into carts, and others hauled carts away. They moved swiftly and easily, the hot sun empowering their ectothermic bodies. A battle against reptiles in their preferred element was suicide.
Bayan looked for a ridge where an archer might stand. Sure enough, a ridge jutted out of the ground along the mine's south rim. It offered a vantage point for the whole region.
"What's the plan?" Charles asked.
Bayan dismounted his chocobo and led him back into the canyon, into the shade and out of sight. "We wait until sundown, then we parley."
"Parley?" Rhon said in disbelief. "You were hired to eliminate them!"
"Amaljaa are cold-blooded," said Bayan. "They're slower and weaker at night. Also, I don't care for the sort of odds that are against us."
Rhon seemed oddly agitated about this, but guided his chocobo back into hiding, as well.
"Great," said Charles, tethering his chocobo to a rock and giving him a handful of Gysahl Greens, himself. "I'm going to take a nap. That ride was torture." He swept a spot of ground clean, then stretched out on the cool earth and pulled his hat over his eyes.
As Bayan pulled out his own bundle of greens, he caught Zana gazing at Charles with a tender expression, as if he was a darling kitten she wanted to pick up and cuddle. Well well. Bayan pretended not to see, but fed Yin his treat, then settled down a few yalms away to keep watch.
It was because of this decision to wait and watch, instead of charging into battle, that Bayan observed two things.
First, as the afternoon waned and the shadows stretched blue from every rock and bush, he saw an Elezen archer take up position on the distant ridge. The man crawled up from behind it, staying low to avoid attention. He could not be seen from the mine, but up in the canyon mouth, Bayan saw him clearly. He watched the man take up position behind a big rock, sit down, and drink from a waterskin. So there was the archer whose arrow would lay Bayan low. He glanced at Rhon, who was sulking about his decision to parley, and kept quiet. But Bayan pointed out the archer to Zana in silence. She watched him with the tip of her tail twitching, and said nothing.
Later on, as the sun set and the Amaljaa moved about, putting away tools for the night, another man trotted up on a chocobo from the southeast. He greeted an Amaljaa that sported a red collar around its neck, and handed over a small but heavy chest. The Amaljaa received it in both hands, nodded to the man, and walked off toward where two Amaljaa were preparing to haul away handcarts. The head Amaljaa placed the heavy chest in a cart, and they all walked off together.
The lizardfolk who had worked all day departed, and a fresh batch arrived to stand guard over the mine. Bayan noted with satisfaction that as the desert cooled and the wind began to blow, the Amaljaa moved slower. These did not descend into the mine, but patrolled the borders.
Charles was awake again by this time, and they shared a small meal from their saddlebags. Then Bayan said, "I'm going to talk to the guards."
"I'm coming, too," said Charles.
"Me too," said Zana, pulling out her grimoire.
Rhon glared up at them. "I'm staying here."
It was a new moon, and the starlight only faintly illuminated the landscape. Bayan and Zana had fine low-light vision, but Charles stumbled over stones and brush he couldn't see. At last Zana took his hand and guided him along. Charles smiled at her.
The trouble was, Elezen had good low-light vision, too. Bayan had thought about this for hours. He approached two guards who stood at the foot of a rock outcropping, which neatly blocked the line of sight from anyone on the distant ridge.
"Hello there!" he called, halting a safe distance away.
The two burly Amaljaa drew their swords at once. "Who goes there?" one called in a gravelly voice.
"I am a sellsword," Bayan replied. "And I have reason to believe that you are pawns in a pirate's game."
The lizardfolk glanced at each other. Then one sheathed his sword and stepped forward. "Come. Talk. If treachery is meant, you will die where you stand."
Bayan strode forward, leaving Charles and Zana several yalms behind. "No treachery. I believe that I have been sent here to die, and I am trying to preserve my own life, as well as yours."
"That may be true," said the guard. "We have killed three batches of sellswords in the past month."
"Did someone hire you, or did you take this mine on your own?" Bayan asked.
"We took this mine with our own strength!" the guard proclaimed, thumping his bare chest with a fist. "We harvest crystals as offerings to Ifrit!"
"Then who was the man on the chocobo who brought a small, heavy chest to your leader?" Bayan asked.
The Amaljaa flinched, glancing over his shoulder at his partner. Then he drew his sword. "That is nothing to you, sellsword!"
Bayan whipped out his greatsword in time to block a descending blow from the Amaljaa that would have cloven his skull. The second Amaljaa ran up, and Bayan had no time to think anymore.
The fight was a frenzy of blocking blows and trying to deliver them. The Amaljaa may have moved slower in the cooler temperatures, but they still hit with the force of a falling boulder. Bayan landed a couple of blows, opening red wounds, but this only served to make the lizardfolk angrier. They forced him backward. They landed a couple of heavy blows, but Charles's warding spell kept their blades from cutting off his limbs. Somewhere, Bayan was aware of Charles and Zana casting spells, but he was too busy to notice what they were doing.
Bayan needed to kill these guards before the others noticed and came running. He reached inside himself for the power of the abyss, the darkness he channeled through his loneliness.
He couldn't find it.
He fought on, swinging his sword and standing toe to toe with his enemies, but the extra strength and magic that empowered him was missing. It was the first time since he'd trained as a dark knight that he couldn't reach the abyss.
Movement to his left. He looked up to see the Elezen archer step out from behind the rock outcropping, an arrow on the string of his longbow. He was not looking at Bayan-his gaze was fixed on Charles. Charles was in the middle of casting a spell and didn't see.
The vision had been Bayan being shot, not Charles! By trying to alter fate, all Bayan had done was ensure that his healer would be attacked, instead.
Bayan pivoted and ran just as the archer raised his bow and fired. Bayan tried to intercept the arrow with his shoulder pauldron. Instead, the arrow smashed through the remains of the warding spell and slipped into the joint of his armor where his breastplate met his pauldron. He felt the arrow slice through him at an angle and emerge from his back, and Bayan fell.
"Oh no you don't!" Charles yelled. As the archer nocked another arrow, Charles conjured stone, which was easy to do in the desert. But instead of levitating rocks, the ground split and a jagged stone spike shot upward, impaling the archer through the middle. The archer slumped and died.
Zana flung out a hand toward the Amaljaa guards, who had seen their ally die and were advancing cautiously, swords drawn. A great swirl of blue light appeared above Zana's head. Out of it swooped a dragon, summoned from the aether by her magic. It was not terribly large, but it was bigger than the Amaljaa. It swooped upon them like a bird of prey upon a pair of rabbits. In a moment, both Amaljaa were dead, and the aethereal dragon carried their heads back to its own realm as trophies.
As the dragon vanished, Charles ran to Bayan and dropped to his knees beside him. His fingers fumbled with the catch on the breastplate. "I can't see!" Charles exclaimed. "Don't you dare die, Bayan!"
Bayan was in horrible pain and gasping with it. The arrow had passed through him just below his collarbone, where a number of important nerves and arteries happened to be. He couldn't move his arm. With his other arm, he groped painfully at the catch and flipped it open.
Zana arrived with a glowing fox-like carbuncle crouched on her shoulder. In its light, Charles swung Bayan's breastplate forward and examined the arrow. "It went straight through," Charles said, suddenly cheerful. "All things considered, it could have been a lot worse." He groped in his pocket and produced a small pair of shears. "I'm going to cut off the arrowhead. Zana, when I give the word, pull the arrow out. As it goes, I'll pour on the healing magic to staunch the bleeding. There's a pretty good chance you'll survive, my friend."
"Good," Bayan panted. "Death is inconvenient."
Bayan endured the wrench and vibration as Charles cut through the arrow and broke off the barbed head. Zana and Charles counted down from three, and Zana pulled the arrow out in one smooth, strong movement. Bayan groaned. Charles placed a hand on the entry and exit wounds and conjured Cure spells with both hands. Green light flared from his palms. The pain abated, but Bayan's left arm still hung motionless.
"More guards are coming," Zana said. "We need to move him."
"Right," said Charles. "Bayan, can you stand?"
Bayan reached through the pain and found the abyss. It yawned open in his heart, a bottomless pit of fear and agony. He drew strength from it, and a little dark red energy flickered over him and swirled in his eyes. With that dark energy, he rose to his feet.
Charles and Zana flinched backward. But when Bayan lurched and staggered, they quickly caught his arms and steadied him. Bayan kept the dark energy flowing, hating that he couldn't find it in battle, but now that he was injured, it came readily. Also, he had been shot in the shoulder, so why were his legs so weak? Walking was more like falling forward continuously.
Charles whistled. There was an answering whistle from their chocobos. All three birds ran up out of the night, their tack jingling. Behind them, Amaljaa found the bodies of the guards and archer and shouted to each other.
Zana and Charles were too small to help Bayan onto his chocobo. He grimly did it himself, mainly on the strength of the abyss. The red light flickered around him a little brighter. He hurt so bad, he wanted to kill something. But right now, flight was the smartest option.
Charles and Zana mounted up, and they ran their birds back up into the canyon. Chocobos were swifter than lizardfolk, especially at night, and they soon outdistanced their enemies. Zana took the lead, her carbuncle illuminating the winding canyon road. Bayan followed her, and Charles brought up the rear, casting spells after spell on Bayan.
After a while they slowed their birds to a walk. Zana said, "Did any of you see Rhon?"
"No," Charles called. "I think he left."
"It was a setup," Bayan muttered. "We weren't supposed to survive."
They walked on in silence. Bayan released his grip on the abyss by degrees, feeling the healing magic's steadying warmth gradually ease away the pain. After a while, he could even move his left arm again, though it was still weak.
"Bayan," Charles said quietly, "we need to talk."
"Do we?" Bayan said.
"Yes," Zana said from ahead of him. "Why are you using black magic?"
"Strength," Bayan growled. The rage and fear of the abyss was still upon him, although waning.
"I've sensed it before," Charles said, still in a subdued, quiet voice. "When you fought the Ixel and the funguar. The shadow was on you, then. I thought that maybe it was an after-effect of the spores or the local aether."
They fell silent, inviting Bayan to explain. Bayan slouched in the saddle and watched the road. Why could he only reach the abyss while in pain? All he used to do was remember his awful loneliness.
"I'm not a warrior," he said at last. "I'm a Dark Knight."
"What does that mean?" Charles said.
Bayan drew a deep breath and felt lingering pain in his chest and back. "When I passed through Coerthas on my travels, I was taken in by a band of rogue knights. They're fighting against corruption from inside their own society, and they're … vigilantes, you might say. Operating outside the law. They taught me to draw power from the abyss, from the negative well of energy inside every human heart. Such power can consume a man, but a Dark Knight remains in control."
"That's extremely dangerous," Charles exclaimed. "Do you realize that monsters of the abyss were what the original White Mages fought?"
Bayan didn't say anything. He only braced himself for the inevitable rejection. Anyone who drew from such a dark source was shunned and exiled, feared for their use of such a power. He had seen how the other Dark Knights were treated. He had passed himself off as a run of the mill warrior, but now his friends had learned the truth. They wouldn't remain his friends for much longer, he was sure.
"Dark magic is the source of a Black Mage's power," said Zana. "They, too, often dig deep to find the abyssal strength to cast horrifying spells. It's never healthy. Such magic leaves its mark upon the soul."
"I know, I've used a few Black Magic spells," said Charles.
Zana turned in her saddle to stare at him. "You? What spells?"
"Counter spell, mostly," said Charles uncomfortably. "And I learned to conjure fire the way a Thaumaturge does."
"Oh." Zana relaxed. "You don't delve into the abyss for those." She looked at Bayan. "Why didn't you tell us?"
Bayan took a few seconds to gather the effort to explain. "Because … exactly this. The dismay and outrage. The lectures. And then … the abandonment."
Charles and Zana said nothing. For a while, there was no sound but the pad of their birds' feet.
"I wanted to spare you that," Bayan went on. "I don't touch the abyss that often. Only when I need it. But today …" He rubbed his sore shoulder. "Today I couldn't reach the abyss until after I was shot. I couldn't defeat the Amaljaa without it. Charles … that archer was aiming for you."
"He … he was?" Charles breathed. "I can't see very well in the dark, so I didn't …"
"I saw," said Zana. "Bayan took the arrow and saved your life."
Charles trotted his chocobo up beside Bayan's, put out a hand, and touched his shoulder. Clean, cool magic flowed through the touch. The soreness lessened.
"Look," said Charles quietly. "I may not agree with the way you use magic. But we're friends, all right? You save my life, I save yours. And right now, I'm doubly in your debt. You took an arrow for me, you mad dragon man."
"Au Ra are not dragons," Bayan said, but he grinned for the first time. "You breathed poison spores for me."
"And you paid my bills," said Charles. "So, no talk of abandonment. That's not how friends behave. Now, tell me about how your magic failed."
With a lighter heart, Bayan described how he used his loneliness to reach the abyss inside himself. But when he reached for it, he couldn't find it. Not until he was in pain would the rage and hate come.
Zana, who was listening closely, laughed out loud.
"What?" Bayan said in annoyance.
"Loneliness!" she exclaimed. "You have found your lady love and are fighting with friends at your back. You are no longer lonely enough to lose yourself in the darkness. You'll have to find a new trigger."
Bayan was so braced for a tongue-lashing that it took a minute for her words to filter into his brain. As usual, Zana had seen the exact problem and solution with her Arcanist logic. He still half-expected his friends to shun him, so their cooperation took him by surprise. Deep down, he still didn't trust them, and realizing this shamed him.
They rode for a while in silence. Bayan looked around inside himself for some new key to the abyss. But he simply couldn't find it. His being was suffused with quiet joy, both in the loyalty and kindness of his friends, and in Koharu. Koharu! She would be waiting to find out whether he lived or died. But what would she think when he admitted that he used dark magic to fuel his fighting prowess? Would his lovely Nhaama reject him?
He worried about it all the way back to Ul'Dah. They arrived in the small hours of the morning, bone-weary. Even their chocobos walked with their heads down and stumbled on stones.
"I must return home," Zana told them as they entered the one gate left open at night. "But I'll return as soon as I can, probably in a few days."
"Thanks, Zana," Charles said.
She peeled off and headed toward the Aetheryte crystal in the distance. Charles and Bayan checked into the Quicksand Inn and fell into bed.