Chapter 16: Shadowbringers
The arena Em- Hades had crafted for them, that dome of darkness it had become, shattered briefly in the place Thancred came barrelling in through near the top. He stood there, watching in both awe and exhaustion as Thancred not only weaved his way down Hades's reaching limb but also shattered and launched white auracite into Hades's massive form. Aether lit up the space behind him and he found the others there, hands outstretched towards Hades and pouring as much power into the shards of white auracite as they could manage.
He knew what was coming. He knew what they were going to ask of him and for a fleeting breath, he wanted to scream.
He wanted to scream in frustration and rage and despair. He wanted to scream with all he had until there was nothing left to scream and then scream some more. He wanted to wail against the injustice of it all, to fight against the inevitable because it wasn't fair! Screw what had been done! No soul deserved to die in such agony, let alone one that has suffered so much for far too long.
He pressed a hand hard into his chest, begging his bleeding heart to quiet if even for just a moment. It mattered not what he thought of this. It mattered not that a part of him was screaming to save this soul too, to save it as he could others simply because that was what he did: he saved others. But this…
After everything, the soul before him could not be saved. It would only doom everything they were fighting to save and he could not doom countless others to save a single soul. He couldn't.
"Now! Strike with all thy might!"
Urianger's words - sharp and commanding and strained with some form of fear - focused him in a way he would hate later, would shudder and sneer in disgust at when he thought back on it. He set his gaze on Hades, the massive being impaled by a spear of white auracite he vaguely recalled watching grow under the wills of his companions, and gathered aether and Light into his palm. Everything he had, everything he could spare, he poured into his open palm until it took shape out of necessity.
Ardbert flashed across his mind and the aether and Light formed into that all too familiar axe he had been offered. The mass thrummed as if the form itself was barely containing the raw power still pouring into it; if he held it for much longer, his hand would surely go numb from it.
But even as he drew that axe of aether and Light back, poised to throw it, all he could think of was Ardbert's sacrifice being used to kill and that thought alone shattered him. The head of the axe hit the floor behind him, his grip still solid around the handle but the strength gone from his arm.
His heart - broken and bleeding itself dry - wanted to save this soul too and, shattered as he was, he drowned under that desire.
Tears filled his vision even as he readjusted his grip on the axe's handle and he sucked in air as if it would be enough to quiet the desire and pain long enough for him to move. It didn't matter. It couldn't matter. There were too many lives at stake for him to not follow through now. The aether and Light reshaped into something different, something he didn't dare look at because it changing felt like such a betrayal to Ardbert on top of everything else but to his grip it felt much like a lance would, an implement he was used to throwing, used to using, and something he knew he could hit his mark with with ease. It was easy to give himself into the familiar motion, the reshaped aether and Light seeming to only thrum stronger against his palm as he lofted it behind his shoulder.
With a scream - one that tore at him, finally giving voice to his very soul crying out in despair - he launched the mass of aether and Light with perfect precision as Darkness swallowed them all.
Aether and Light honed to a sharp point, anchored in the rough shape of a lance only for the moment it rested in Echo'a's grip, slammed into the Hades, held in place by the might of Hades's will and Darkness alone. But that bolt of energy would not cease, as if the force driving it forward still pressed upon it, driving it ever onward until something gave. A massive bloom of aether and Light billowed from the point of contact and in that dark abyss, that bolt of aether and Light looked like a shooting star streaking across a starless sky, boundless and brilliant.
Be it Hades's will or the Darkness giving out under the relenting pressure or the mass of aether and Light simply being just that much stronger, the bolt of energy finally pierced Hades's form.
They had done it. They had defeated Emet-Selch. They had defeated Hades.
They had won.
So why did he feel so hollow?
He buried his face in his arms, pulling his knees more to his chest as he curled in on himself. Stupid question; he knew why. He knew exactly why and he was trying to pretend he was fine. He had to, for their sakes. After everything they had gone through, everything they'd risked, they deserved a moment to not have to worry about him for once. Besides, it wasn't like he would become a sin eater now and he certainly wouldn't harm himself.
Alphinaud pressing food into his hand as they journeyed back drifted through the forefront of his thoughts and the urge to gag returned with it. The food had been a far better cry than when he had been drowning in Light but he hadn't wanted it. Still didn't.
He hoped Alphinaud hadn't noticed he had avoided eating anything since.
"Ah, so it would seem I am not the only one restless this fine evening."
His ear twitched back towards the voice and he pulled his face free to watch as the Exarch approached him. He forced his posture to relax, dragging his tail away from his ankles as if that alone would hide the exhaustion - the pain - from the Exarch's curious gaze. "Shouldn't you still be confined to bed?" he gently teased, finding it easy to pretend he was fine.
The Exarch chuckled. "As much as I ought to wish I was, sleep has unfortunately eluded me as it has most of the city." The Exarch grunted as he sat down next to Echo'a. "And yourself, it would seem. I had not expected to find anyone else up here at this hour, not when the Crystarium is still celebrating so strongly." The Exarch closed his eyes, face turned towards the incoming breeze. "Besides, a breath of fresh air will do me more good than staying in a stuffy bed. The stairs to get here, though, might have been pushing it."
With his hood down, the Exarch was extremely expressive. While he had been able to make out portions the Exarch's emotions before, he could now see them without even trying. The droop of one ear as an embarrassed smile crinkled eyes and cheeks, the listing of the Exarch's gaze that held far more content than embarrassment, it was easy to see that the Exarch held no shame in having climbed to the top of his favorite observation tower.
Echo'a hummed in acknowledgement to the Exarch's statement as he wrapped his arms back around his knees. With his gaze on the horizon ahead of him, he tucked his face in among his arms and knees enough to prop his head up on one arm.
"Ah," broke the silence, the word tentative on the Exarch's tongue, "if something is bothering you- ah, I mean, if you ever need an ear to bend, I could-" He rested his head against his crossed arms, taking in the Exarch's flustered expression. His gaze seemed to only make the Exarch that much more uncomfortable. "That is to say, I wouldn't mind-" He saw the flicker of retreat across the Exarch's expression before the man schooled his features into compassion and caring. "I wouldn't mind seeing about fetching one of your friends. Alphinaud, perhaps? Or possibly Y'shtola? Whichever one you would feel most comfortable opening up to about whatever is keeping you from resting. You deserve a good night's sleep after everything."
He sighed heavily and uncurled. Thankfully, the Exarch had sat rather close so all he had to do was pivot until he was facing the other direction and scoot to the right. Oddly enough, he was reminded of their time up on the cliff in Kholusia. Their positions now were certainly similar enough. He dropped his forehead to the Exarch's shoulder, heavier this time than Kholusia, and watched as, once again, the Exarch kind of just froze under him, one hand raised between them frozen midmotion. After a moment, those fingers closed in a rather telling way and he responded in kind. "I'm tempted to smack you if you don't actually follow through with that thought and hug me."
The Exarch let out a startled huff of a laugh before Echo'a found himself suddenly engulfed in the Exarch's arms. He pressed his face to the man's shoulder, fingers clinging to the fabric at the man's back as if it were the last lifeline afforded him, and finally gave into the grief he had been dancing around since dealing with Emet-Selch.
He hadn't intended to pass out - did it count as crying himself to sleep if he didn't actually sleep afterwards? - and came back to awareness with a start, disorientated. The Exarch's scent filled his nose with his inhale, quickly followed by the Exarch's arms flexing around him and the Exarch's words rumbling through him. "You're ok; you're safe. I've still got you." He turned his head, finding that they were laying down now, him partially on top of the Exarch's chest, his own arms pinned under the Exarch's back. Probably the least comfortable position for the Exarch. "No one's found us yet," drifted through his observations as if it was an afterthought on the Exarch's part.
He shifted his weight, putting most of it on his arms to take it from the Exarch; the Exarch's arms did not budge. He sought out the Exarch's gaze and found it already on his face. He was quick to point out, "Yes, but that does not negate the fact that my being on top of you cannot be comfortable."
The Exarch shrugged. "You're not particularly heavy." A breath before the Exarch added, "If you want up, I will not stop you."
The arms around him still firmly in place spoke otherwise. He sighed heavily. Or, more they spoke of how the Exarch wanted him to stay. He was certain the Exarch would not restrain him if he truly pulled away. Shifting so that at least he would be more comfortable in this arrangement, Echo'a laid back down on the Exarch's chest and listened to both the Exarch's breathing and pulse.
Silence hung between them for an age. The sounds of a lively Crystarium drifted along the breeze that brushed over them but the peace that had settled was never broken by shoes on the stairs. Instead, it was broken by the Exarch softy asking, "What's wrong, Echo'a?" This time the Exarch's words were sure but there was a tightness to them, one he was certain he would see on the Exarch's face if he chose to look up. When he didn't respond, the Exarch pressed on. "Normally I would offer words as I am wont to do but I find myself at a loss on what to offer you. Usually I can pick up on what is bothering folks but you…" Ardbert had been confused back then, too. "I apologize. It is not my place to pry. When we part ways, I will make sure you find one of your friends. Talking about this to me is probably not desirable seeing as, after everything, it was I who-"
Echo'a shifted higher on the Exarch's chest and pressed his face into the man's neck, silencing the stream of words as swiftly with his motion as he would have with the words that followed. "When you pulled me to the First, I found myself face to face with a soul I had never expected to see again, a soul who had returned to the First in the hopes of being able to save even just a fraction of the world from the flood of Light; a soul who spent a century isolated from the world he had once called home, unable to interact with it or its people, forced to watch as the years moved on without him. When you brought me here, you brought that soul salvation from that torture and I gained another friend in the process." His arms flexed around the Exarch. He didn't want to start crying again. "Ardbert - the self same Warrior of Light of the First and Warrior of Darkness of the Source - had been there while we fought against Emet-Selch. He was the reason why, when Ryne failed to reach me, I didn't change. He's the reason why when you showed up I could stand back onto my own two feet and face Emet-Selch." The bitterness in his voice died too quickly, cut thin by the tears that were only worsening in his throat. They were thick in his words, choking them. "He gave his soul to not only free me of the Light, but repair the damage it had wrought in the interim. And how is that fair? Decades of isolation only to give his soul to the damned fool who could only give him the light of day for an infinitesimal amount of time."
Had he any other words, he lost them to the press of tears at the back of his throat. The Exarch took advantage of the lapse in words and offered gently, "I would venture a guess that Ardbert hadn't seen it like that. In fact, I am certain he cherished your time together, even if it seems so fleeting in the end, and would have willingly done it all over again if it meant he got to save you again, too."
The sob slipped out despite his best efforts.
The wave of grief ebbed and he found it hard to fight against the desire to sleep with the Exarch running his fingers through Echo'a's hair. He knew the Exarch was right. Ardbert was too good and too kind of a soul to ever see their time together as anything more than cherished and worth nearly every hardship. But that didn't mean he had to like it.
After a moment, the Exarch's voice filled the silence again. "Ardbert's sacrifice has not been the only thing weighing on you, has it?"
He shook his head, face still pressed against the Exarch's neck. "It's stupid," he muttered, petulant in his own unease.
The Exarch gave a soft chuckle. "I highly doubt that. Anything that affects you so is far from stupid." The hand that had been in his hair found an ear and tentatively brushed over it as the Exarch turned his face to Echo'a's hair. "What has you so?"
It took a moment to get the courage to speak but the Exarch made no further push. When the words fell past his lips, they were steady, if not a bit quiet.
"I know there was no other way, that even if there had been, he wouldn't have changed, but I can't help but grieve for the soul that had to suffer such torture." His breath quaked as he pulled it in. "After everything he put us through - put you through - I grieve for the soul that suffered such weight; from desperate promises, from a far off dream being stopped at every turn, from the isolation and guilt-" His voice cracked and he swallowed thickly. "Guilt of having survived when they didn't." He shook his head again. "A single soul bore all of that for a seeming eternity only to be put down by my own hand and I just…I hate it; hate that there were no other options and hate that such an experience can even happen. No soul deserves that sort of suffering, not even my worst enemies."
The Exarch tightened his hug. "You have such a kind soul, Echo'a," the Exarch muttered, the words thick with a pain he couldn't describe. "Don't you ever change."
The Crystarium was becoming quieter, he realized. As silence settled between them again, there were fewer sounds on the wind and what had been lively seemed more subdued. But everyone was safe. The First was still alive, even if just barely, with a people that would flourish now that the worst of the threat was gone. Despite everything, the world would keep turning and they would get to see the next sunrise together.
"I'm glad your plan fell through," he admitted, his hold around the Exarch tightening in emphasis. "Managed to save at least one soul in all this."
"And yours," the Exarch was quick to add, almost desperate as the words broke. "Despite everything, yours was saved too."
Echo'a wasn't sure how he felt about that.