For the Zhaitan fight, I used Apex of the World (FE3H), and for the party afterwards I used 打ち上げ花火 by Cellchrome (or Fireworks is what Google Translate tells me that means) which doesn't have the studio version on YouTube, only live mall performances which are… not actually that great (sorry Cellchrome, you guys sound better on CD, I will buy all your CDs if you make them available in Canada, deal?)
The most egregious thing that needed adjusting for me in this final part of the game was the final boss fight, because Zhaitan goes down like a sad puppy in the game and… like… some Wyld Hunt that was. I wanted to stab the dragon myself, not watch it die by clicking the "shoot cannon" button over and over! (Also that dungeon is very slow and doesn't have great pacing.)
22: Victory or Death
Hope's Legacy were on board the Humble, riding the airship to the gates of Arah, when a Charr copter flew by. "Destiny's Edge has been forced down! They need your assistance!" the pilot yelled through the window.
"Understood!" said Captain Vandem. "Everyone, hold on to something!"
"Destiny's Edge is here?" Damara asked.
"Cooperating?" Phiadi said, with a sly look at Caoilfhionn.
"We'll know soon enough," Annhilda said. "There they are, fighting a lot of those big abominations."
"Is there space to put down?" Rhyoll asked doubtfully.
"This isn't a tank," Captain Vandem said. "Watch us!"
Rope ladders were unfurled, and one by one, the members of Destiny's Edge and the crew of their downed airship clambered up – but-
"Logan!" cried Caithe, looking down, as an abomination seized the rope ladder and ripped it from the ship. "No!"
Rytlock growled. "That idiot! I'll hound him into the Mists for this!"
Eir put down Garm from her shoulders. "I thought that this time, together, we would be unbeatable. Could I have been wrong?"
"We can't lose him, not after coming back together," Zojja said.
"We have lost him again," Caithe said. "Can we survive this?"
Rytlock slowly shook his head. "No. I don't believe he's truly dead. Logan's the most foolish, but also the bravest and most combat-savvy human I've ever known. He'll find a way out."
Phiadi elbowed Caoilfhionn in the shin and he stepped away from her – her elbows were sharp!
"Sorry to interrupt," Captain Vandam said, "but we've got gigantic minions of Zhaitan up ahead. Battle stations!"
Trahearne paced restlessly at the Cathedral of Verdance. He longed to be in the fight, but he was still too weak after the day before… He would only have slowed them down, and they knew what to do. He flexed his hands in front of him, uselessly, then forced himself to relax them and looked up once again at the sky.
It was hard to make out anything from here, the airships, the dragons, anything – the clouds were thick today and Arah was far enough away that all he could really sense were the sounds. The sky rumbled with cannonfire, with the shriek of burning engines, with dragons screaming. How many were there!? And where was Destiny's Edge, where was Hope's Legacy among them? Where was Caoilfhionn? Where was Caithe? His closest Valiants, with their Wyld Hunts drawing them to the Elder Dragon?
To be sure, Caithe could handle herself; he'd long given up trying to worry for her no matter what she got up to. Though he was always a little worried, as a brother ought to be. But Caoilfhionn… his heart reached out to him, praying for his safety like he'd never prayed before. If only he could…!
He fixed his eyes on the sky and waited, as his guards waited, as they all who were not currently fighting waited.
The fight was a long, slogging battle through the air, taking out select ground targets to assist the infantry and tanks that were also rolling through the destroyed city, then rising higher again to tangle with lesser dragons. The Humble was far less nimble than the dragons, but her cannons hit harder than their breath, especially with her physical shielding augmented with Asuran forcefields.
But the third dragon they fought got a lucky shot in, tearing a great hole in the steel bubble that kept the ship aloft. The ship shuddered beneath them and tilted, fire and smoke pouring from the hull, and Caoilfhionn suddenly noticed how very high they were – they were above some of the clouds, even, and the only ground he saw was the great central cone of Orr and a few spires from Arah below them. Someone on the crew was whimpering in fear.
Zojja, clinging to the railing by the bow, pointed suddenly. "Another ship coming in! And it's a huge one!" Below them, the clouds parted and an airship the length of the Durmand Priory came into view – and what an airship! It was gloriously patterned like a dragonfly, with delicate wings streaming back from its engines; Sylvari influence was heavy in its design and he couldn't help but think it the most beautiful airship he'd ever seen.
"And they're heading straight for us, thank the Six Gods!" Damara exclaimed. "Think they'll pick us up?"
"If it gets close enough, get aboard anyway!" Eir said.
But the great ship maintained its heading towards them, pulling up beside their floundering vessel, and Logan Thackeray met them at its side. "Come on, you laggards! We don't have all day!"
"Logan! You're alive!" Rytlock boomed.
"You think I was going to let you all go up against Zhaitan without me?" Logan said with a big grin, pulling Rytlock safely onto the deck.
"Logan, I am delighted to see you are well," Caithe said. "I thought…"
"I know," Logan said. "I got out by the skin of my teeth and hopped a lift with this ship, the Glory of Tyria. Isn't she a beauty? I'm told she got out of drydock about an hour ago."
"Impressive," Zojja sniffed. "I think this is just what we need to take down an Elder Dragon."
"Everyone, to battle stations," Eir cried. "We're going in!" Garm barked and wagged his tail violently. Only Caoilfhionn spared a glance for the Humble as it sank below the clouds; it had been a good ship while it lived.
"What is that!?" came a shout from the port gunners. "Look at the size of that thing!"
"Zhaitan!" Annhilda cried. None of them had seen the Elder Dragon before, in person or depiction, but each of them knew for a certainty that the eldritch horror flying through the sky between the lightning strikes was the one they sought. Caoilfhionn stared in awe at the writhing conglomeration of pale rotting wings, tails, even heads. Its eyes glowed green and it dwarfed even their great ship twice over, horrible, terrifying, majestic in its sheer scale. Here, he knew, was Death Personified – and his Wyld Hunt cried out in his heart, calling him to battle.
"Sheesh, he looks like one of my summons from when I was a progeny," Phiadi muttered, ruining the moment.
"Here it comes!" shouted Logan. "Brace yourselves!"
Caoilfhionn had just time to anchor himself to the deck with Earth magic when Zhaitan skimmed the bow of the Glory of Tyria, tearing a good twenty metres off the front like it was not even there, leaving only splintered wood and twisted metal behind. The airship shuddered and lurched to the side; the engines strained as the pilot fought to hold them steady. Everyone about him flailed, and he reached out to steady Rhyoll before he slipped. The noxious stench of the dragon swept over them and he choked, covering his nose with his sleeve. The soldiers on the cannons at the bow of the ship had been turned to zombies by sheer proximity; Eir coolly shot them before they could get close.
Zojja recovered her footing and pushed her way to the main cannon controls. "Stand aside. I have this."
"Excuse me!?" exclaimed the Asura who had been standing there. "This is a mist-cooled tripartate thautmatium energy weapon."
"Uh-huh," said Zojja, dead-pan. "With a lead tracer array set for draconic energy. Who do you think designed it? I know how to handle this. I won't break it. Much."
The Dragon flew overhead again, not striking them this time, but releasing a flood of undead to land on the forward deck, and for a couple minutes all was blades and spells for the remainder of Destiny's Edge and Hope's Legacy. And not only did they have undead gorillas, quaggan, and Norn to contend with, but the dragon's breath corrupted all it touched. Caoilfhionn fought with all his strength, determination blazing in his soul. They would not be overwhelmed here, not when they were so close!
"Steady, steady," Zojja muttered as the ship slowly tracked Zhaitan. The Elder Dragon was not as nimble as its lieutenants, but it was still faster than the airship… Caoilfhionn waited with bated breath, the wind whipping his leaves violently as they surged through the sky.
Zojja slammed her fist on the biggest button on her control panel, and energy gathered hissing and crackling in the ship's main cannon, mounted high aft, and it blasted out with a zzzzzap that nearly deafened him and made Rhyoll's fur stand on end. The Dragon writhed and roared – its tail! Its largest tail had been struck, and was tearing free, along with several smaller tails and limbs. It came at them with a sudden charge, roaring in rage, promising their doom with its hateful eyes.
"Get DOWN!" Rytlock roared, and the dragon crashed against the aft of the ship, tearing the aft cabin and the cannon off the ship, turning what had been a marvel of engineering into a smoking ruin. The Glory pitched wildly, and he flung himself to the deck with the others-
"Wait!" Damara screamed – and went tumbling from the edge.
"Damara!" they all cried, but it was too late, she was gone from view. How horrible! Damara!
"Get back on those cannons!" Eir ordered, crawling to her feet and pointing. "Put more hurt on him! It's him or us!" Pale Pact soldiers rushed to obey, and they fired, more searing energy weapons raking the Dragon's hide as it flew by once again.
This was no good. Caoilfhionn clenched his fists in desperate frustration. What good was he, were all of them, simply riding this ship!? Even Eir's sturdy arrows were surely no good against such a behemoth, and they'd lost Damara. His magic, channeled through his daggers, could only reach an armslength around him… Caithe, too, with her own daggers.
Zhaitan writhed under their assault, even his armour burning under the energy beams, then turned, gaping maw glowing brilliant green, and dove for them. Several people screamed as the enormous Dragon crashed into the side of the ship – and latched on, roaring at them all, broken wings flapping uselessly. Everything caught in its breath withered – the cannons melted, their crews turning to undead instantly, the wooden deck rotting beneath their feet. The ship tilted and rocked, the engines wailing under the strain of carrying both ship and Dragon. Lightning cracked nearby.
Caoilfhionn stared down Death with wide eyes, that gaping, jawless green maw filled with a dozen smaller dragon heads all snarling at them. Well now, here it was, within the reach of his daggers at the other end of the deck, and what could he do even now!? Sylvari as he was, he might not become turned, but he would die, and die uselessly, if he charged it full on.
And yet the ten – nine of them were all that stood between this Dragon and annihilation for everyone. He felt no fear in this moment – this was what he had been born for.
"I have it!" Annhilda cried. "Eir, keep those undead off us, and get ready to tell of a new legend!"
"Annhilda!" Eir said. "We'll protect you – and help you if we get the chance. You think you can take that thing down?"
"I swear it," Annhilda said fiercely. "Caoilfhionn! Launch me!" She grabbed a nearby hammer, a hefty steel polearm that one of the crew had let fall, and beckoned to him.
He gasped. "Eh?"
She nodded frantically. "I know you can. With your Air magic. Launch me straight at his ugly mug! …Mugs."
"You'll be dead before you get there!" Phiadi cried. "If only I could mobilize a Well of Power…"
"Put it here," Rhyoll said, opening his Charrzooka and revealing the missile within. "This'll take careful timing. Caoilfhionn, you think you can handle it?"
Brilliant! Insane, suicidal, but brilliant! He set his eyes on the frothing dragon with determination. "Absolutely. Ready, Annhilda?"
"Do it now!" Annhilda shouted, hefting the hammer to strike.
Caoilfhionn looked at Rhyoll, breathed with him, and cast – not on himself, but to give Annhilda a burst of lightning, to send her flying quick as an arrow. At the exact same instant, Rhyoll launched his enchanted missile, Phiadi's spell flying on it before Annhilda and turning Zhaitan's corruption to blessing.
The heartbeat of the world slowed to this one instant; the wind in his leaves, Zhaitan's roar, the dazzling spark of his spell as he flung his guild leader forward with all his strength, the lightning crashing through the clouds. Annhilda reached the end of the lightning spell and for a moment he saw wings erupt from her back as she reached the massive Dragon's face and swung the hammer with all her might. In that instant, a burst of light, white-hot as a tiny sun, blinded him.
Everything was obscured by fire and miasma. He couldn't see Zhaitan or Annhilda. Then the Glory of Tyria lurched – and lurched again, as Zhaitan's claws fell away from its hull and the great Dragon plummeted away, its skull smashed to pieces, soon to be smashed again upon the spires of Arah.
"Annhilda!" screamed Caoilfhionn, reaching out helplessly. They'd lost Damara only moments ago, and now Annhilda had gone with the Dragon… inevitable perhaps, but still, he'd hoped-
"A… A little help here?" came a faint call from the lower deck, and they rushed to the railing to see – Damara, stretched out on her stomach on the deck, both hands hanging onto one of Annhilda's for dear life as the Norn dangled off the edge of the airship.
Madly, Caoilfhionn swung down over the edge to land beside them, summoning clinging vines to grow from the hull where Annhilda might grab them and pull herself up. Phiadi came sprinting along from the ramp to the upper deck, and Rhyoll following as fast as he could with his limp.
"By the Eternal thrice-damned Alchemy!" Phiadi screeched, and launched herself into Annhilda's arms. "I spent my best spell on you so you wouldn't die and then you almost did anywayyyy!"
Annhilda tried to comfort the crying Asura. "But I didn't die – by the grace of the Spirits and all your help. We won, Hope's Legacy. We won. I left the hammer buried in the dragon's skull up to the handle."
Caoilfhionn also threw himself at Annhilda, and Damara. "I'm so glad you're both alive! Praise the Pale Tree!"
"And the Six Gods," Damara said. "Not an experience I want to repeat!"
"And the steel that brought us here," Rhyoll said. "It did the real work, you know."
By now they were all tightly gathered in a group hug, only interrupted by a polite cough from the side. They turned to see Destiny's Edge gathered there, beaming at them.
"Well done," Eir said grandly. "I knew you could do it. All of Tyria owes you an immeasurable debt. On behalf of Garm and Destiny's Edge, thank you." Garm barked and wagged his tail.
"Can't believe you got that half-cocked idea to work," Rytlock grumbled. "Glad it did, though. When you got a moment, I'd like to toast to your victory."
"I salute you, and not just because half of you outrank me," Logan said with an easy grin. "You've made Tyria safer, stronger, and more secure."
"Thank you all," Caithe said. "For helping Trahearne and Caoilfhionn and me with our Wyld Hunts. If you keep helping Sylvari this way, we may have to make the rest of you honorary Sylvari."
Zojja sighed. "I didn't expect you to succeed so spectacularly. Now I have to recalculate my Heroic Potential Matrix. Thanks a lot for the extra work. Oh, and for cleansing Orr, killing Zhaitan, and so on…"
Everyone laughed. "Wait, who's driving this thing!?" Rhyoll exclaimed.
"Good question!" said Annhilda. "Let's confirm that monster is dead, and then head to Fort Trinity to bust open some kegs!"
The air had never felt so sweet to Caoilfhionn as now, as they turned to fly for home base, the remaining dragons breaking on the rest of the fleet, the other airships turning to form up on them, wounded, limping, yet triumphant. He'd never felt so alive, so free, so joyful, even with all the weight of the grief that had come with them so far, so fulfilled with the conclusion of his Wyld Hunt. All he wanted now was Trahearne's beautiful smile and his life would be complete.
They disembarked in the clear twilight and quickly made way for more airships to land with, and they were all talking at once. "Courage, skill, and friendship brought the dragon low," Eir said, raising her hands high in a gesture of praise. "Let this day never be forgotten!"
"A victory that all Tyria can share!" Logan said, raising his fist with hers.
Rytlock huffed. "This is not an ending. There are other dragons out there. Other battles."
Zojja gave him a look and rolled her eyes. "You shambling fuzz-ball. Can't you just be happy?"
Rytlock raised an eyebrow at her. "I was being happy."
"Will you return to your queen now, Logan?" Caithe asked.
Logan shook his head. "No. Not until I know that Kryta's safe."
Rytlock grinned and slapped Logan on the back. "Meaning he's up for more fighting. See? Logan's happy, too."
Eir nodded. "Snaff would be proud of us. Especially of you, Zojja."
"Proud that we didn't screw up and plant our faces in the mud again, you mean?" Zojja said, a little sharp still – but that was just Zojja. "…I guess he would, at that."
Eir chuckled and turned to them all. "So who's next? Jormag… Primordus… Kralkatorrik?"
"As dawn scatters shadows, so we will destroy them all." Caithe said, and looked to Hope's Legacy. "We could not have done this without you. Thank you."
Annhilda shrugged "You're welcome. You can count on us."
"Good," Caithe said. "Because Eir is right. The rest of the dragons are still out there, waiting."
"We'll get them," Caoilfhionn said to her. "Wait and see."
He smiled brightly and they entered the courtyard, where food and drink had already been set up – and fireworks! And music! There were so many people, the entire army from all the Pact, from every nation and race – even those who had been on active duty right up until the battle had been recalled, for there was no need to hold land against the undead when the undead leader was gone.
"Oh, hey!" Annhilda said, grabbing his arm before he got separated in the crowd. He could barely hear even her strong voice over the hubbub and the fireworks. "I know we haven't really talked about this, but you should invite Wegaff to the guild!"
"But he doesn't…"
"I know! But he can still be part of the guild! We should have done this ages ago. Hey, Phiadi! Ask your Mabbran friend, too! Rhyoll, I don't suppose your yellow friend would want to join our guild? Damara, you got any friends looking to join?"
"If we're doing all that, we need a guild hall," Phiadi said. "Someplace in Lion's Arch where we can meet and conduct experiments. We have to be less wishy-washy about our organization."
"I don't do experiments, but there's my farm near Divinity's Reach?" Damara said.
"Your pets are remarkably even-tempered, but I can't imagine they'd appreciate constant exposure to my work, hahaha!" Rhyoll said. "I vote for Lion's Arch."
"Agreed," Annhilda said. "Caoilfhionn, tell Wegaff he can have his own lab, that should get his attention."
Caoilfhionn snagged a glass of champagne and went in search of his old friend; he found him arguing vehemently with Researcher Fero. "Wegaff! Spare a moment?"
"Caoilfhionn! You finally did it. Can't say I'm surprised. You always were the type to go running up to the most dangerous thing in the test area and try to poke it."
"I actually didn't do that much," Caoilfhionn said cheerfully. "Zojja and Annhilda did most of it."
"More than me," Wegaff said, shrugging. "Though I'm hoping to be on the Dragon recovery team tomorrow."
"Say, how would you like to join Hope's Legacy?"
Wegaff narrowed his eyes. "You know I'm not one for combat field work-"
"I know, I know, but I'm not asking you for that. We just want to have more friends around, like you!"
"Hmm. So what sort of amenities have you gained as a guild?"
"Err…" Caoilfhionn sweated a little. "Not much, but Phiadi was just saying we need a guild hall, where she could have a lab, and you can have a lab, and there's also a half-mad Charr with a workshop who will be more than happy to produce prototypes of anything you want, especially if it explodes-"
"Sold," Wegaff said with a giggle, and shook Caoilfhionn's hand enthusiastically. "I'll be more than happy to help you look for a place to call our own. I've missed my personal lab – say, can I bring my krewe from Rata Sum?"
"Of course!" Caoilfhionn said gaily, not knowing what the others would really think, but still sure they wouldn't mind. "I'm glad you're going to join us. This will be exciting!"
He stayed to take part in the conversation for a while longer before excusing himself – there were many more people he wanted to talk to, and he hadn't seen Trahearne yet! He went back to flitting from circle to circle, eager to laugh and cheer with the other members of the Pact, occasionally crossing paths with his guildmates.
"So then I said 'Caoilfhionn, launch me!'" Annhilda said, and the circle of listeners about her burst out laughing uproariously.
"I can't believe that worked," Doern said admiringly.
"I haven't even told you what they all did yet!" Annhilda said, and gulped down more of her ale before continuing.
But Trahearne was nowhere to be found, and really he had partly expected that. But he had to be around somewhere. He wasn't at the memorial wall… Caoilfhionn slipped away from the noise and lights of the crowd, glad that he hadn't gotten too tipsy yet, back up the ramp to the airship dock. The battered frame of a smaller airship was docked there, and on its deck… yes, a familiar figure, gazing out at Orr under the moonlight.
He walked up beside Trahearne and slipped his hand into his. "I knew I'd find you up here… Hiding from the crowds again, beloved?"
Trahearne shook his head with a distant smile. "Not hiding, beloved… waiting for you."
"I'm here now."
"And thinking. Completing my Wyld Hunt lifted a weight from me, but Zhaitan was still a terrible threat. Now that threat is truly gone, it feels like the sun has finally emerged after a cold, endless night. I can't help but wonder… what's next? Now that we've formed this unstoppable alliance and tempered it in battle, where do we take it?
Caoilfhionn pressed closer to his side, leaning his head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent. "To the next challenge. The next victory. There are more Elder Dragons to confront… and now we know how. We know they can be defeated. But! First! We celebrate! We won, beloved – it would be a crime not to stop and appreciate that! And while I'd be perfectly happy to spend the rest of the night up here with you, most other people would be very disappointed, you know. Come, there's plenty of time to worry about the other dragons later." He began to steer Trahearne in the direction of the ramp.
Trahearne laughed and let himself be steered. "You're not wrong. Ah, but Caoilfhionn – a moment-" and Caoilfhionn found himself pinned against the curving glass viewport of the airship with Trahearne's mouth on his. He made a strangled gasp, relaxing wholly into the kiss, clinging to Trahearne like a lifeline. He changed his mind. He wanted to stay right here in this moment, forever…
"Come, my young prince," said Trahearne, teasing, pulling back just enough to see him. "Didn't you say they wanted to see us?"
"Y-yes," Caoifhionn said, slow to recover with Trahearne leaning over him like that, with that voice so low and alluring. "I suppose."
Trahearne grinned in triumph. "Not so quick to pull me away to parties now, are you? I should use that more often."
"Trahearne!"
"Forgive me, beloved; my heart is light as never before. Shall we?"
Caoilfhionn laughed. "Always, mine too, and let's."
They were met by Hope's Legacy and Destiny's Edge above the submarine docks, with wild cheering. "But I didn't do anything today," Trahearne said aside to Caoilfhionn.
"Never mind that," Caoilfhionn said. "Besides…"
"So when's the wedding!?" Damara shouted, beaming at them.
"..I think they're also still just excited about us… Wedding!?" Caoilfhionn cried. "Err… actually…"
"Day before yesterday," said Trahearne bluntly.
"What!?" exclaimed everyone but Caithe, who simply smiled. "You can't have!" Damara exclaimed. "Where was the ceremony? Who were the witnesses? I need all the details!"
"Where was the drinking?" Annhilda put in.
Caoilfhionn scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "We… didn't have any of that?"
"Sylvari often pledge themselves to each other without so much as a witness," Trahearne said. "It is enough that we have pledged. And I was rather hoping to avoid making a public fuss over us?"
"It might be in good taste to have some sort of celebration," Eir said. "Humans, Norn, Asura all mark the occasion publicly in some fashion."
"Charr don't celebrate unions like the rest of you sentimental types, but we'll still come provide the barbecue," Rytlock said.
"As if we needed another excuse to party," Zojja said. "But I'm down if the rest of you are."
"I'll… we'll consider it," Trahearne said faintly. "But in the meantime, shall we not endure the rest of this party?"
Caoilfhionn laughed and looped an arm about Trahearne's waist. "You don't hate it that much."
"No, I don't, you're right. I hear music… shall we dance?"
Fireworks burst overhead, colouring the stars red and blue and green and gold. Caoilfhionn danced next to his lover, admiring his gracefulness, the look of absolute joy and abandon on his handsome face, and locked it all away in his memory to treasure forever. His eyes sparkled like never before; he couldn't stop smiling; his heart was too full for words.