Dawn is Just a Heartbeat Away (Hope Is Just A Sunrise Away)
Chapter One
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Evening balls in Garlemald, the Imperial Capitol of the Garlean Empire, were not uncommon. Wind or rain, sun or snow, summer or winter, the movers and shakers of the empire liked to get together as often and as lavishly as possible. Displaying their wealth to one another, to the Imperial Family, to the officers of the military, to potential brides and grooms to their own family members, the reasons were as numerous as the attendees, and almost as varied. More than one alliance had been forged, or shattered, upon the marble floors of Garlemald's dance halls.
Anyone who was anyone, or anyone who aspired to be someone, attended such events. It would be social suicide to do otherwise, and more than one family had found themselves missing members once their social status fell sufficiently, though of course none of their rivals ever had anything to do with such a tragic, unforeseeable occurrence. No, doubtless such things were down due to random crime, but they were certainly willing to purchase the property of the deceased in order to provide the grieving family with a nice nest egg to mourn with.
Yes, the parties of the Garlean nobility were as fraught with danger as they were flush with pleasures and opportunities, and as much as they were wary of the danger, they were enticed by the prospects. The potential gains, and the losses that being absent could provide, were far too great for anyone to demure from even the lowliest of parties. Ironically, it was at times that the poorer and less stories of families hosted that the most maneuvering took place, for none of the families equal to or greater than the host family would dare behaving in such a way that their rivals could smear their reputations for being ungracious guests, causing them to be blacklisted from further events. So they would roam estates a fraction the size of their own, pouring out compliments and offering trade agreements in order to appear better citizens than their rivals, and through the constant games on one-upmanship, enrichen that minor house they considered dirt beneath their boots fourfold or more. All for a single night's expenditure to host the party.
If it was at parties hosted by the lowest of the Garleans that resulted in the most manouvering, however, it was at parties hosted by the Emperor that saw the most cutthroat manouvering. When the Emperor himself was not just in attendance but the host of the event, the flattery and the sly comments flew fast and thick, and the backstabbing only avoided being literal by dint of the Imperial Guard confiscating all weapons from attendees at the perimeter of the palace.
Not that any Garlean would dream of harming their beloved Emperor, of course, the man who had saved them from the frozen wastes and recaptured their ancestral homeland. The man who was reminding, and would continue to remind, the savages of the other nations that their proper place was firmly beneath the iron hand and boot of the Garlean Legions.
Oh, yes, their beloved Emperor. Wise beyond his years as a youth, and wiser still in his old age. Even now, with the majority of a century entire behind him, he carried the bearing and the strength of a man many years his junior, a shadow of the powerful, deadly, and charismatic Legatus that had shown Garlemald it deserved to stand astride the whole of the world. What thoughts, they wondered, passed through his well-honed mind, as he gazed out over his guests with such noble calm. What wisdoms, what knowledge, did he pass to his attending grandson, who stood even now beside his throne with all the powerful regality of the Imperial lineage?
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His Most Glorious Radiance, Solus zos Galvus, Last of the Republic and First of the Empire, Mountain-Lord of Nhalmasque, Dusk-King of Werlyt, Liberator of Locus Amoenus, High Marquis of the Landis Marches, Lord Protector of Ala Mhigo and, by the will of the People and Senate of Garlemald, Emperor of the Garlean Empire…was bored.
Terribly, wretchedly, agonizingly bored.
The temptation to slouch in his throne, to post his chin upon a fist and gaze vacantly across the crowd until they took his unvoiced desires to heart and departed beat strongly in his breast. If he had known that this is what being an emperor was like, he would have made Lahabrea do it, or even set one of the Sundered that had been returned to their Seat on the job. Zodiark knew that that he hated everything to do with it: the politics, the paperwork, the empty flattery, the slimy, fractured imitations of souls around him…everything that came with running this wretched government and its efforts to conquer the rest of this shattered, empty, sundered imitation of Creation in order to return his true home to it's full glory.
That, as ever, was the dearest and most heartfelt with of Hades, he who had once and forevermore would hold the Seat of Emet-Selch, Guardian of the Aetherial Sea. No matter what happened, no matter how many eons passed, how many names and faces he had to take for his own to continue upon his righteous crusade, he would neither flag nor fail. His steps, heavy with grief and hate, would never falter. The world-that-was would be reforged, and every soul that had been lost to him would be whole and hale and at his side once more.
His eyes swept the room, cold and calculating, and not for the first time he felt everyone of this body's many, many years as his Sight showed him just how much had been lost to Venat's actions. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding together, as he remembered the moment he had watched his former friend and colleague, the mentor to his oldest and dearest friend, sunder all of Etheriys and it's people. Oh, he knew why she had done it, to prevent even more deaths, even more sacrifices to Lord Zodiark. Such was the stalwart belief of those that held the Seat of Azem, that all lives were precious and of equal value, to be protected at any cost. So yes, he understood why Venat had Summoned Hydaelyn, and why…she had refused to participate in either summoning, but his understanding did not lessen the pain or the anger in the least. Did they imagine for a moment that he, guardian of the dead and the Lifestream, was pleased by the necessity of the course upon which The Fourteen had been forced to guide their people? Did they, did she, think that he…!
His thoughts, though they could be more accurately defined as bitter ranting, stuttered abruptly to a halt as his eyes alighted on a small cluster of young noble men and women, in their twenties at the eldest if he were to guess, gathered around another young woman. Not necessarily unusual at events like this, though the fact that she was (by the appearance of her dress armor) a member of the Reaper Corps was certainly not commonplace. In truth, that fact probably went a fair length in explaining her apparent popularity with those in her general age group, for military officers were ever popular and the mysterious members of the elite, scythe wielding, voidsent-allied Reapers even more so. After all, despite their carefully cultivated and maintained air of secrecy, every Garlean citizen knew of those brave and noble heroes, untrained farmers all, that had made pacts with The Void and wielded their scythes in the defense of their people when the savages had driven them from their homes. Very romantic and swoon-worthy, he was sure, for the sheltered noble brats of the capital city. Though he felt as if he recognized one of the aforementioned brats, a girl practically hanging off the reaper's arm...
Aware that he was rambling to himself, something he would later find appalling (that sort of thing was for Lahabrea, unbalanced fool that he now was), he refocused on what was truly important about the girl: her soul.
It was almost painfully bright compared to the wispy, hollow shadows that lingered within the frail forms of those around her, of those who in fact filled not just this city, but this entire world. Blazing like the sun in the darkness of the night, like the brightest of lamps in the darkest of basements. It paled in comparison to the souls of he and his fellow Unsundered, of course, they who were Paragons of the ancient world, but it could not for even the slightest of moments be imagined to belong to one of these lesser creatures around him. No, this girl's soul was definitively and obviously that of a partially Rejoined child of Amaurot.
The shell, likewise, was easily set apart from those around her. Most Garleans looked fairly similar in build and appearance: pale-skinned, tall, powerfully built, and trending towards lighter shades of hair. With a gem-like third eye in their forehead, of course. The shell was tanned, short and slender, with hair the color of pitch that had violet streaks through it, left side bangs pulled back into side-braids that lead to a high ponytail, while the bangs on the right framed her face. Compared to the blonde and light brown hair of those around her, with the elegant shaping and enough beauty products to bankrupt a regular family…well, missing the differences was impossible.
As the crowd of youth around her erupted into laughter at something she had said, he couldn't help the tidal wave of nostalgia that swept over him. That roguish smirk, that air of devil-may-care, and crowd of admirers that hung on her every word…oh how this girl reminded him of his most beloved friend.
Signaling his aides that he was done taking admirers for the moment, he beckoned his grandson close, ignoring the familiar pang of old regret and sadness as he thought of the boy's father. His sweet Julius, so bright, so good. Bright enough that he had allowed himself to feel hope in the cruel, worthless, broken world…only for that world to remind him quickly why hope was a foreign, pointless thing when his son and daughter-in-law had died of illness within days of each other, leaving their boy an orphan at the tender age of ten.
"Grandfather?" Varis asked obediently, his massive frame practically having to kneel in order to bring his ear close enough for Solus' elderly, withered voice to reach him.
"Varis, tell me: that girl, the Reaper amongst the youth. What do you know of her?" Hades asked, and he could feel the surprise and slight bafflement from his grandson as he looked over at the group. Despite his confusion, however, Varis was a reasonably intelligent boy, and if Hades had to praise any of his qualities, his superb memory would certainly be one of them. Besides, Zodiark knew the meticulous brat would have memorized the names and faces of every single guest that was being allowed into the Imperial Palace days in advance.
"That is…Aeliana rem Quirinius, grandfather, a tribunus militum of the XIVth Legion, under Gaius van Baelsar. She is his companion tonight, though it seems the man himself is nowhere to be found." Varis responded after only a heartbeat of thought, and Hades felt his eyebrows raise almost against his will.
"Tribunus Militum, at her age? She could hardly be more than twenty winters, perhaps so many as twenty-five, but not a single day more!" he repeated, feeling legitimate surprise. Unworthy individuals being promoted beyond their current capabilities was common, even amongst a meritocratic society such as Garlemald, but her status as a Reaper through that theory into doubt. Never mind the fact that Gaius was a fanatical adherent to the beliefs of the Empire that Hades had crafted. He promoted and empowered and recruited those he considered competent and worthy, and despised nepotism with a seething passion. It was one of the reasons that the XIVth was so effective and his men were so fanatically loyal to him.
"Yes, Grandfather. She is twenty-one winters, I believe, and her ascension through the Reaper Corps and the Legion have been rapid enough to cause quite a stir at the Bureau of Military Logistics, but they are used to van Baelsar playing by his own rules." Varis confirmed, a slightly bitter note in his tone, and Hades restrained the urge to roll his eyes. Varis and his childhood friend, Regula, had never gotten along with their 'uncle' or approved of the way he did things. Nor had they ever grown out of that distaste.
Renewed cheers from the group interrupted them for a moment, and Hades smirked internally at the way the crowd was now fawning over the small, rather unique succubus that was flitting between them, hiding behind long locks or perching on heads. Such fine control over their Voidsent was highly uncommon, as was such a defined shape, even amongst the most elite of the organization. Most Avatars were simply cloaked and masked wraiths that came and went in mere instants.
"Well, I see at least one reason for her rapid advancement. I have never seen such mastery over a voidsent partner before." Hades voiced his thoughts, and Varis nodded begrudgingly.
"It is certainly impressive." He admitted a bit sourly, doubtless unhappy to praise one of Gaius' 'projects'. "At any rate, I know little of her beyond that, given the XIVth's long posting in Ala Mhigo, only that her mother knew van Baelsar from a campaign a long time ago. Besides that, rumours and hearsay."
Hades hummed in thought, before tilting his head slightly to his right side. An aide was there instantly, kneeling beside the throne with an attentive ear.
"Yes, Your Radiance?" the woman asked quietly, and Hades reflected for a moment how much he despised bowing and scraping before responding.
"Find Gaius van Baelsar and inform him that I require his presence immediately." He instructed, returning his attention to Varis as the aide vanished. "You said you had rumors and hearsay about this girl?"
"I do, Grandfather, but I see little reason to repeat baseless speculations bandied about by the envious or the gossip-mongering." The boy sneered, contempt for such individuals radiating from his every pore, and Hades resisted the urge to snort in amused agreement. Still, he was curious, and he glanced at Varis and arced a single eyebrow in silent command. Sighing slightly, Varis dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Very well, Grandfather, if you insist. It is said she skipped entirely from a youth Militaris Scholae to a posting in the XIVth, training as an irregular with Baelsar's Cania Lupi for a time before being tested for the Reaper Corp and joining the legion properly. That, for all that it is unconfirmed, seems to be within the character of the Legatus."
Hades nodded slowly in agreement. Gaius, as he had reflected earlier, had an eye and taste for gathering talent around him, regardless of their stations or nations of birth. Still, there were missing pieces, large ones. Such as how the girl's mother was involved, or why Gaius had recruited her and taken her half an empire away after a military preparatory school, which meant she could have been no more than sixteen or seventeen at the time.
"I am wise enough to guess that some of the rumors around her suggest that she is warming his bed, Varis." He remarked, getting a grunt of agreement from his grandson, and he regarded the girl thoughtfully for a moment. Gaius was not prone to the company of the young, even those old enough to be legally in his chambers, as the girl would have been and was, nor was he so enraptured by his passions to so disturb the typical methods of recruitment and education simply for a young flower to satiate his carnal desires with. "Do you consider there to be any truth to such rumors?"
"Absolutely not." Varis denied, instantly and firmly, enough so that Hades felt a thread of surprise at the stern, unyielding definitiveness of the words. "As I said, worthless words bandied about by those that envy her success, despise van Baelsar, or are looking for some salacious story to titter about within their mansions like the hapless fools that they are."
"A firm condemnation, and one unusually so for you. Especially when it comes to your uncle." Hades mused, getting an annoyed huff from the boy, which brought a small smirk of amusement across his lips. Really, tweaking these mortals was the only thing approaching fun he had in his existence anymore. Hythlodaeus doubtless would be thrilled about that, even if his friend would doubtlessly despise everything else Hades had done. Oh, how many times had the Archivist and Azem teamed up to make his life utter misery, playing their jokes off of one another and driving him to madness with a speed and talent that was as breathtaking as it was infuriating?
"My issues with van Baelsar are extensive and well-known, but anyone who believes he would promote someone beyond their ability simply because he was...making use of their company, is delusional. His contempt for nepotism is legendary, it's one of the few things I approve of. Besides, the fact that she has risen so far amongst the Reapers and exhibits such control over her voidsent makes such accusations patently absurd. She is clearly more than capable in her own right. Besides, everyone knows that he takes that Tribunus of his, the Junius girl, into his bed." Varis told him, folding his arms across his chest as the tall, broad form of The Black Wolf began cutting through the crowd like a dreadnought as Gaius made his appearance, the crowd parting before him like the sea.
"My Emperor, your Highness." Gaius bowed to each of them, each gesture of respect to precisely the depth and angle that their individual stations demanded, not an ilm more. In some, that might have been a passive-aggressive gesture of disrespect, but in the Legatus of the XIVth Legion, it was simply the precise, measured military attitude that shaped so much of the man shining through. "I am here, as you commanded. How might I serve?"
"Been hiding in one of my parlors again, Gaius, avoiding your loving admirers?" Hades chuckled at the slightly pained look that crossed the man's eyes, knowing how much he despised pomp and circumstance, especially pomp and circumstance with those that pontificated about the greatness and strength of the empire without doing a damn thing to make it either great or strong. He paused for a moment, ostensibly to take a breath, before continuing with an edge of wicked delight. "How else will you meet a delicate and wed a beautiful Garlean snow-rose, waiting even now to be swept of her feet by a strong and fierce wolf?"
"My Emperor…" he started, sounding quite tired for a moment, only to fall silent as Hades waved a hand dismissively, still chuckling.
"Ah, Gaius, I think that you shall never change. Well, I didn't not elevate you to your position because of your love or talent for the political field, but that of battle. Nor am I inclined to try and marry you off at so crucial a time, so have no fear. The Black Wolf will remain uncollared a while longer." He said, ignoring the way the man gave a soft sigh of relief at avoiding potential arranged marriages for another social season. "No, my friend, tonight my interest is in your escort. I have born witness to her control over her voidsent, and heard of her rapid promotions from Varis. He is really quite impressed with your eye for talent, you know. You will tell your nephew and I more of her, yes?"
"Of course, my Emperor, with pride." Gaius responded promptly, coming up to his right side as Varis remained on his left. "Aeliana rem Quirinius, a Reaper and one of my Tribunus Militum. Many call her my protégé, and on my honor I cannot deny this has a great deal of truth to it. Despite their envy, however, she is entirely deserving of her accolades and my teachings. In fact, I expect she shall reach the rank of Praefectus Castorum within the next five years."
The pride that the man had in the girl was easy to see, even to the most blind of men. It was the pride of a father in their child, and Hades hummed in acknowledgement with a slow nod.
"As you noted, of course, she is highly talented with her voidsent. I have never seen so close a bond or so fine a control as that which she possesses, and is of devastating and graceful lethality upon the battlefield. I have never seen her lose a duel with someone besides myself or one of my highest-ranking officers. She joined my legion at the behest of her mother, who was once my comrade during the Unification Campaigns. I was honored to be chosen to shape the talented future head of House Quirinius." Gaius finished, and Hades nodded again thoughtfully before glancing over at the man.
"Tell me, Gaius, how long have we known one another, you and I?" he asked conversationally, and Gaius (poor, avoids-politics-like-the-plague Gaius) didn't hear the threat lurking underneath the words, only frowning slightly in confusion before answering quite honestly.
"Since I but a boy, Excellency, with spindly legs and knobbly knees." He said, and Hades snorted.
"A troublesome boy with scratched legs and scrapped knees, you mean, always dragging poor Julius into whatever mad scheme you had most recently concocted." He corrected, and Gaius gave a short, soft, genuine laugh, nodding as old shadows chased themselves through his eyes.
"Aye, and he was forever the one who was rescuing me from them, as well. Dragging me home with our heroic wounds, lecturing me on my foolishness all the way." He acknowledged, and Hades nodded with a small, genuine, wistful smile of own as Gaius continued. "Of course, then your lady wife would take a strip off our hides, up one side and down the other as she cleaned us up, while the servants tried to scrub the blood and dirt from our clothes and patch the holes in them."
"Yes…" Hades still missed Solus' wife, often, all these years later. He had not loved her whole-heartedly, he couldn't bring himself to do so, but she had been a most remarkable woman who had loved him in her own way and supported him fiercely, doting on their son but raising him with a firm hand. If ever there had been a mortal shade of this world that he had wanted to share the truth with, besides Julius, it would have been her.
The same sickness that had slain their son had taken her, and he lamented it still. He shook the memories off with the painful, tired ease of long practice as Gaius paused before adding softly, heart-felt.
"I miss Lady Honoria and Julius even now, my Emperor. I loved her like a mother, and he like a brother. I would have gladly served him as I have served you, as we both served you in the Legions before your ascension to the throne. I have loved no man more than I loved he, and would have given my life in an instant if it would have kept them at your side."
This, Hades knew, was neither flattery nor shallow commiseration. Every word that Gaius had just spoken was nothing but the clear, resounding truth. Indeed, he remembered well the many times that Gaius had nearly given his life to preserve that of his Julius on the battlefield.
"Yes, you and I have known each other for your entire living memory, Gaius." He said, pushing the memories away once more, tone taking on a distinctly sardonic note as he continued. "Of course, given that, I must wonder why you believe that you could hide something from me."
Gaius froze, a look not dissimilar to that of a deer when the hunter's trap has clamped around it's leg sweeping over his face. Were it not for the seriousness of the memories that had just been brough to the surface leaving lingering grief and pain on his heart, Hades might have found the reaction quite amusing, if darkly so.
"My Emperor, every single word I have spoken to you tonight has been nothing but the truth!" he protested carefully, but he was hardly canny enough to pull one over an Ancient used to dealing with the two most headache-inducing citizens of Amaurot or countless kings and emperors and sycophantic wretches over the course of millennia.
"Hmm, yes, I have no doubt of that. But I know you well, young man, and I know that while you've said not a single lie, there is much you have not said at all about your charge instead. Surely it is not because you have taken her as your woman?" Hades prodded, anticipating the reaction that would garner.
"Certainly not!" Gaius balked, looking appalled by the very suggestion, before sighing in defeat as Hades and Varis simply stared at him silently. "As you command, Excellency. There may, as it happens, be…a few things that set her apart from most, but I hasten to add that there are none more loyal amongst my legion than she, and she believes as deeply in our people and our cause as I!"
"That is all very well and good, Gaius, but I am still waiting to hear these things that set her apart." Hades said with an air of fraying patience, and Gaius kept talking, with a resigned air about him.
"She has abilities that I cannot account for through talent alone, nor through what I know the Reaper arts. Her closeness with her voidsent is, as I have said, not like anything I have before seen. That, in and of itself, could be explained away as her simply being talented in those arts. However, she possesses the ability to react with such speed to threats that it seems to border on precognition, learns new talents or skills with baffling speed, and her talent for making friends -or at least friendly acquaintances- with even those who should be her enemies would be deeply concerning were it not for her devotion to Garlemald. And…" here he hesitated for a long moment, as Hades tried to ignore a pit that seemed to be growing within his stomach as all three of them returned their gazes to the girl. "She…is an investigator of unusual provenance. Able to discern from the slightest of clues, even those I and my trained investigators cannot even see, what has happened in a place and who was responsible. I would fear it was trickery, false leads and accusations, if she had not been proven correct time and again."
If he had not already suspected, that small speech would have confirmed for Hades that this girl was not just a shattered Ancient, but a powerful one. Possession of 'The Echo', and in such strength, was a vanishingly rare thing even on The Source. The beliefs of his Empire dictated that she was a beastman, fit only for death, but he had never expected for it to appear amongst the Garlean race, not with their crippling inability to shape aether the way the rest of the world did.
This begged to question: how should he proceed from here?
"Grandfather…" Varis' voice, tight and firm, drew him from his thoughts, and he looked over to see a distant cousin of Solus', a brat in Varis' legion that was thoroughly useless for anything and everything he was assigned, was squaring off with Aeliana, and Hades raised an eyebrow as he realized why he had recognized one of the girls hanging onto Aeliana's every word. The boy in question had spent most of the night flirting (or trying to, at any rate) with servants and fellow guests alike in pursuit of female company, which meant… "Well, Varis, it seems our cousin takes umbrage with his abandoned fiancé latching onto Gaius' protégé."
Both men started forward, intent on preventing the brewing conflict, but halted at his raised hand. He wanted to see how this played out. To see how she handled a situation that could not be handled with her scythe or void-born powers.
To see just how similar she was to the last person he had seen with such a beautiful, radiant, warmly glowing soul.
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So, I've been planning a FFXIV story for a very long time, but I wanted to see how Endwalker played out before I started it. I wanted to see the whole of the "Hydaelyn and Zodiark" storyline before I started working in it. Well, it's over now, and it was amazing, and I can finally work on this story.
Now, this story is actually a prequel to the 'real' story, which is Aeliana's beginning. Basically, it will cover her starting point and how she ends up becoming a wandering Adventurer in Eorzea, while the 'real' story will be Aeliana going through the events as the game, but with all the differences expected from having the WOL being an elite Garlean defector, and other interesting changes.