Mysteries Unveiled
The alchemy of Radz-at-Han truly was one of a kind and with your help their most hopeful of talismans was created in but the blink of an eye. Of course, if its protection would withstand the corrupting influences of the tower remained to be seen. A task that had your name written all over it.
Yet there were other, more pressing questions on your mind as you stepped onto the boat with that alchemist. What will await you on the inside and above all, who was this man, this Ascian, who called himself Fandaniel?
The curtain will soon rise on these and many other mysteries...
The boat rocked gently from side to side as it slowly traveled across the water towards the isle of Narunnair. With her arms crossed in front of her chest, S'eni watched the already colossal tower grow larger with every passing moment. A few steps behind her stood Nhidana, murmuring to herself while holding the talisman in her large hands.
Turning around, she locked eyes with the alchemist. "Everything alright?"
"Not really," the other woman replied. "But my jitters should be the least of our problems. Especially now that we are closing in on the range of the aetheric emissions..."
No sooner had she said those words, did the talisman in her hand began to glow.
"Come on..." the Arkasodara said, and S'eni felt herself tense up. Just before they had gotten onto the boat, Nhidana had made her promise that, should worst come to worst, she would not hold back and for a few agonizing seconds it seemed like a very likely scenario. Then relief arrived in the form of a barrier surrounding Nhidana, who visibly relaxed as well. "Good...the talisman seems to be working!"
Nhidana looked towards S'eni. "How are you feeling?
"Everything alright in here," she replied, tapping her head. As way of dispelling the rest of the tenseness, she added, "Though some might disagree with that notion."
They shared a chuckle.
"Let us see how we are going to fare closer to it," Nhidana said.
After landing at the isle, they got off the boat and made their way over to the tower. With every step they took, the pulses of aether grew more frequent, prompting the barrier around the alchemist to blink in a rhythmic pattern. Almost like a heartbeat. Yet, it was holding still.
"Very good. Even this close the emissions seem to have no effect on me. But we need to make it to the entrance before we can call this an actual success."
Nodding, S'eni looked ahead, where the gates of the tower were standing wide open, practically inviting anyone who made it here inside. Which, clearly, was no concern for the Telophoroi. Still, she didn't like it. Especially not after she had found a certain someone snooping around the Great Work earlier...
No use thinking about it now, she thought as Nhidana walked ahead of her and up the small set of stairs leading up to the entrance.
The barrier still held. Turning around, the Arkasodara's eyes narrowed into a happy smile that was hidden by her trunk. "With this it is official: the talisman offers protection," she announced, sounding quite a bit proud of her and her fellows' accomplishment. "Now we only need to produce it in large quantities for our exploration of the tower. Come, let us return post haste to deliver the good news!"
All of a sudden, chains of aether shot out from the darkness of the tower and wrapped themselves around Nhidana, raising her high into the air and keeping her there. "What—!?" was all she managed before pulling her inside with a surprised yelp.
"Nhidana!" S'eni shouted and immediately ran after her. Following the long, dark hallway, she soon emerged into something akin to a nightmare. Like a bizarre mixture of machinery and flesh, spiraling pillars were scattered all around her, extending up into the highest reaches of the tower. Connecting them was a series of 'bridges' that looked like the corroded spines of a long-dead dragon.
"Twelve forfend..." she exhaled when she saw that fused inside those pillars were rows upon rows of Arkasodara. She had read Arenvald and Fordola's report, but seeing it with her own eyes...They needed to take these towers down as soon as possible!
Her ears perked when they picked up a sound of shouting up ahead and she began to follow it. It didn't take long for her to find Nhidana once again, still suspended in mid-air by the chains and a robed figure standing not far from her. She quickened her pace.
"Oh dear, would you please stop struggling so much?" she heard Fandaniel ask. "The only thing you're accomplishing with that is extending your suffering."
"No...I cannot...not yet..." As she floated towards the pillar in front of her, Nhidana managed to turn just enough to see S'eni running up to them. But it was already too late. Their eyes locked just in time for her to be swallowed by the tower's structure, becoming part of it like the rest of her brethren.
"How very tragic, you would have almost made it," Fandaniel said as she came to a halt, picking up the talisman prototype that had landed in front of his feet during the struggle. He turned it in his hand. "Oho...Interesting. The similarities are striking..."
She just glared at him, causing him to jump back when he looked at her.
"Why are you staring at me like that? Did I do something to earn your ire?" He shrugged and turned his attention to the newly fused Nhidana. "You know my patrons of old would have been beside themselves at a sight such as this. They would have squealed and danced. Between you and me though, I find such things exhausting."
Patrons of old? If he meant the Ascians, she very much doubted either Emet-Selch nor Elidibus would have liked this very in-your-face approach of summoning primals. So... "What in the hells are you talking about!?"
A smile began to form on his lips and he tossed the talisman over his shoulder into the depths beneath them, before giving her an elegant bow.
"You wish for me to tell you a story? Very well. As you know I'm the Ascian Fandaniel, sundered and all. I inherited the position and soul of the man holding the title of Fandaniel during the Final Days. In theory, at least." He straightened himself back up and waved his arms. "But who cares about dry theory? I was born and have lived as the one that stands before you: Me."
"Get to the point!"
"Patience, patience." He turned around, wholly unconcerned about her. "I was eventually recruited into the Ascians, and thus inherited the knowledge and memories of the old Fandaniel. But they never felt like a part of who I was...if you know what I mean."
She didn't reply.
He glanced over his shoulder before turning around once more. "So if you really wish to know who I am, I should best start with my name, shouldn't I? I have it on good authority that you poked around quite a few Allagan ruins in the past. Then you might actually have heard my name before..."
Pain shot through her brain in that tell-tale way of the Echo granting her a vision and she released a hiss as she grasped her head. Not...now... she thought as her vision began to blur, only barely making her able to see Fandaniel give her another bow.
"...Amon. At your service."
...
...
...
"Long ago existed a nation of unbridled prosperity," a voice spoke in her mind. "A nation in which peace reigned and every need was met day after day after day. Perfect and happy...which was why it was succumbing to rot."
A man appeared in front of her vision, dressed in fine clothes that spoke of his nobility and the room in which they stood a marvel of technology. One that she knew. Azys Lla.
"You are an absolute genius, Amon. How did you even conceive such a delightful experiment?" the man spoke, his voice an echo of cheer. "When that fool awoke only to realize his head was that of a bull he became so stricken with panic he wanted to scream, but all he could manage was lowing! Haha, my friends and I were so consumed with laughter we struggled to breathe!"
Whatever else the nobleman wanted to say was drowned out by that first voice, Amon's voice, again.
"My heart's blood was in this work, and these wastrels thought of it as nothing but cheap jokes...but it was not their only indulgence." His gaze shifted over to two men standing in the back, looking over to them. "They desired constant entertainment, were grabbing for even the slightest hint of amusement to sate that never-ending hunger. This nation was sick. But I would heal it! With the resurrection of our founder!"
The scene shifted to another place in Azys Lla, overlooking the vast insides of the facility.
"It was done! I had succeeded and our empire was set on a path of conquest once again. An inexhaustible ambition carried us onward, ever onward." Amon turned to look at the person standing at the edge of the platform. Emperor Xande. "Yet the one who brought us glory was not to be satisfied."
"Heed me, Amon," Xande said, not looking away from the sight in front of him. "No matter how vast one's empire. No matter how full one's treasury. It all becomes null and void upon death. In the end, all is lost."
The scene shifted once more, this time to a robed figure, face obscured by a red mask. But she knew immediately that it was none other than Emet-Selch himself.
"You know as well as I do that the emperor will lose the coming war. That is why I am here to take you with me," the Ascian said. "Your methods leave much to be desired of, but could hardly close your eyes to your abilities and intellect. And as it just so happens, the seat of Fandaniel, your seat, has recently become vacant. I would rather have you on our side than to die a pointless death. Go on, send one of your clones into the Crystal Tower to convince yourself of the truth."
The vision faded, leaving only darkness and Fandaniel's voice. "What I found was the end of all glory. My emperor was right in the end. No matter what we accomplish, in the end, everything turns to dust. And life is ultimately nothing but a journey into oblivion..."
...as she returned to the here and now, S'eni found herself alone. Not a hint of Fandaniel in sight no matter which way she looked. Until his voice rang through the air.
"How nice of you to lend my humble story some of your time, but I don't want to keep you any longer," he said. "Don't worry, your friend here is safe. After all, she and her brethren won't be able to summon any primals if they are dead. They will only die if you try to forcefully remove them. So, shoo, shoo, back to your comrades! Rescue plans have to be made, am I right?"
A chuckle echoed through the air.
"Promise me we'll meet again soon, yes? His Majesty and I await you at a much grander stage. A sideshow like this is hardly worthy of such a spectacle."
And with that, he was gone. Relaxing, if only slightly, she turned her gaze towards Nhidana. If what he said was the truth, then she had no way of rescuing her right now. Unable to do anything else, she turned around and rushed back towards the entrance.
We'll rescue you, Nhidana. I promise!
When S'eni had first heard of Radz-at-Han, her father described it as a bustling city, colorful and always busy. Where street cries of merchants mixed with the sounds of zills that accompanied every move of the city's many, exotic dancers. There was always something for the eye to behold, he had said, a sight which would ingrain itself into one's mind never to be forgotten.
Now, as she was walking along its streets, she found it bereft of everything but the vibrant colors. Merchants and dancers at every corner were replaced by soldiers of the Radiant Host, standing dutifully guard in case an attack could make it past their comrades into the very heart of the nation. And the few non-combatants that were out on the streets either ignored them or gave them curious, yet concerned looks.
"Guess this was to be expected," she murmured while looking at a young man running past them down the large set of stairs.
"I was told that every town of Thavnair plays its part. So it stands to reason that if they're suffering, so does Radz-at-Han," Thancred said, earning himself a solemn nod from her. Even if the towers all over the world were to vanish tomorrow, it would take time for the nation to recover.
"And there's only so much the Satrap can do..." Turning her eyes forward, S'eni let them come to rest on Varshahn, who was walking a few steps ahead of them as he escorted them to the residence of the very same man. He had shown up shortly after she had returned to the Great Work to tell everyone the bad news about Nhidana. While her fellows were obviously shocked by what she told them, they took heart in the fact that she was still alive and set on making as many talismans as possible now that the latest prototype had been a success. As thanks for their contribution to that endeavour, and to discuss further cooperation, the Satrap had invited them to meet with him.
After reaching the top of the stair, they continued walking for a bit longer until Varshahn stopped in front of a small bridge leading to a large building that stood apart from the others. He turned around. "This is His Excellency's residence: Meghaduta. I wish I could give you a proper tour of the city, but given current circumstances..."
"Don't worry," Thancred said. "We'll just take in the sights another time."
"Thank you for understanding. Well then, let us not keep His Excellency waiting."
Leading them across the bridge and into the building, the young boy guided them through the luxurious hallways that one would expect from the man at the head of such a prosperous nation. It reminded her a little of the Sultana's palace in Ul'dah. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if the vase they just walked by cost more than her house!
Yet despite the opulence, the air around the place felt quite welcoming and the subtle wear of the floor told her that the Satrap seemed to be one that didn't avoid meeting with people. And from the way the people spoke of him even during these trying times, he seemed like a great man and, hopefully, a great ally.
A few minutes later, they stepped into a large chamber, its decor the same as the rest of the building, apart from the large curtain in the back. In the center of it was a table, filled with plates of delicious fruit and flanked on both sides by comfortable-looking chairs. And the head of the table sat a man.
"Your Excellency, the guests you asked for," Varshahn introduced them before stepping aside as the Satrap, who himself was an Au Ra as well, rose to his feet.
"Ah, splendid! It gladdens me that you have arrived so swiftly. My name is Ahewann, Radz-at-Han's Satrap," he introduced himself. "The alchemists of the Great Work have told me about your invaluable assistance in the creation of the warding scale. Truly a ray of hope in these dark times. In the name of my people, I wish to offer you my deepest gratitude."
"Yes, but Nhidana...she was taken..." S'eni said, lowering her eyes to the ground.
"Indeed. I have been informed of what happened just before you arrived. Her colleagues insist that we respect her wishes and trust in the talismans. Only that way we can free her and the others. And that is exactly the matter I wish to discuss with you." He gestured towards the seats. "Please sit down, this is not a discussion to be had while standing."
Urianger, Thancred, and her stepped forward to sit down, but stopped in their tracks when Estinien suddenly spoke up. "I think not."
"Estinien?" S'eni asked, but the Dragoon's eyes were focusing on Ahewann.
"Did you really believe we would fall for such a simple charade?" he asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Don't you think it's time to lift that curtain?"
"I'm not sure what you mean." The Satrap seemed confused for a moment. "Ah, you must be used to more grandiose greetings. I would have loved to celebrate your arrival with song and dance, but given the circumstances..."
"Nay, you are right," a voice suddenly resounded in the chamber. "Mine apologies for this deception. There is no need for curtains here."
"...As you wish," Ahewann said and moved to raise it.
"You travel as assistants to the Students of Baldesion, but is it not the Scions of the Seventh Dawn standing before me? Even here we have heard of you," the voice said and S'eni felt her eyes widen with a gasp as little by little the form of a dragon revealed itself to them. "I am Vrtra, and for uncounted years hath this island served as mine abode."
"Vrtra! Of the First Brood!" Urianger exclaimed. "Sibling to Hraesvelgr and Nidhogg."
"Aye. I hatched when mine brothers and sisters already spread their wings. Thus making me the youngest," the wyrm replied.
"Unbelievable!" Thancred said. "We heard that the Satrap had an alliance with a dragon, but for it to be a great wyrm..."
"That, too, is not the entire truth," Ahewann said as he returned to them. "Allow me to tell you the story of our nation. Long ago the rock upon which Radz-at-Han is built was home to Vrtra, and Vrtra alone. When the ancestors of the Matanga arrived they established, but never entered the wyrm's lair. The Au Ra, who soon followed, allied themselves with the Arkasodara and began to treat Vrtra with reverence and respect as well. For many years, the understanding between our forefathers and the great wyrm endured..."
His face grew grim. "Until marauding Hyurs arrived from the mainland and everything changed. When it seemed all would be drowned in blood, Vrtra came forth and brought an end to the fighting. Under his guidance, a peace treaty was forged, oaths sworn upon the great wyrm's name. That is the foundation of our nation: Radz-at-Han, the land of the dragon."
"Then the actual Satrap...is Vrtra?" Thancred asked the Au Ra, who nodded.
"Yes. For generations, my family has faithfully served him to keep up this 'charade'."
"There are only a few beings as powerful as a great wyrm, and where power resides, blood is spilled," Vrtra explained. "'twould not be mine flame that consumeth this land and thus I bade those few that joined me in our country's foundation to veil the truth."
S'eni could do nothing but stare at the dragon in front of her. To think that all this time, Radz-at-Han had been ruled by one of the First Brood. And not only that, but he knew of them. Which meant he must surely know who she and Estinien were...and what role they played in his brother's death. As if he could sense her thoughts, Vrtra focused on her with his one-eyed gaze. Wait—
Estinien had noticed as well. "Your eye is missing."
The dragon tilted his head a little and Varshahn turned around. "It is not," the boy said and placed a hand on his chest. "It rests within this body. 'tis but a simulacrum created by the finest artisans of Radz-at-Han. With mine eye nestled within, it serves as an inconspicuous vessel."
"Ah, so that is why I felt the presence of a dragon when we first met," Estinien said.
Or why he was so wise beyond his years... S'eni added in her mind. He sure had her fooled good.
"Your keenness doth you great honor. This vessel hath been woven with wards to deceive arcane senses. Though it should not surprise me. You were fused to mine brother, Estinien Wyrmblood." A tense silence followed in which 'Varshahn' and Estinien stared at one another, before being broken by the wyrm once more. "From the very first, we sensed each other's nature, yet we met with neither fangs nor claws. That shall serve as our foundation for now."
Vrtra released the young body from his control and turned his head to address them directly. "With all truths thus laid bare, I have for you a proposal. Not as wyrm from the First Brood, but as the ruler of Radz-at-Han. With all haste we must take the finished talismans and breach this 'Tower of Zot'. Thence, if possible, destroy it. Yet even with enough warding scales, the narrow confines of the tower doth limit the size of our forces."
"And thus denied strength in numbers, thou must choose thy soldiers with care," Urianger said.
"Just so. Our Radiant Host is proud of its formidable warriors, but 'tis unknown territory for them and now is not the time to take unnecessary risks. But I see a surer path before me." Vrtra leveled S'eni with his gaze once more. "I am very much aware of your deeds. You have fought many primal beings in the past and most recently you didst destroy false gods at Paglth'an and Carteneau, didst you not?"
"That's right," she replied.
"'Tis those victories, and mine own impression as Varshahn, that hath me ask the Scions to lead this expedition. Talisman's would, of course, be provided to all of your companions. And should you agree, more will be provided to do with as you see fit."
Thancred looked at her. "It's going to be risky, but the offer is too good to refuse. It would give us an edge in the fight against the lunar primals and the towers if we could provide all our allies with warding scales."
"Agreed." S'eni nodded "But I think we might need the other's help."
"I think so too," he said and addressed Vrtra. "May we consult with the rest of the Scions first?"
"Aye. I am well aware that 'tis is no trifling task I ask of you. The time you require we shall spend in crafting your protective charms."
"Back to Sharlayan it is then."
The sound of the opening door made them all turn to see Estinien, already on his way out.
"May we not call upon your aid?" the great wyrm asked, and the Dragoon stopped to glance over his shoulder.
"Whether as great wyrm or ruler of Radz-at-Han, your words have proven to me that you care about the well-being of your people, so I see no reason to refuse. Nor will I."
"I am in your debt."
Without even so much as a nod, Estinien resumed his walk. They were done here. Looking at Thancred and Urianger, S'eni chuckled and, as they were clearly dismissed, began to follow her friend.
"And you decided to not tell us why?" she asked as she caught up to Estinien, a small grin forming on her face.
"I wasn't entirely sure then," he replied. "Does it matter now? We have our work cut out for us."
"Sure do," S'eni sighed. Of course, she had her next task already waiting for her when they arrived back in Sharlayan. She only hoped the others had already managed to find something...
...and that the teleport back would be less severe.
Ayyy, it's the most chill great wyrm in existence. Jokes aside, I've actually had a lot of trouble with his dialogue since he seems to be even more approachable in the German dialogue. Which I guess makes sence given his penchant of going icognito as any given aid to the Satrap. I hope I managed to replicate his mannerism well enough.