Original Ao3 chapter summary:
Heya! Still busy with work, but I thought a combined normal hard Lost City of Amdapor run would be a good opportunity to show off something, and writing is a good way to keep myself sane haha.
This is set between chapters 21 and 22, while Joker's throwing himself into any sidequest he can find. So before any of the Binding Coils!
Joker ducked under a fallen marble pillar, feeling dust and grime and worse scrape upon his shoulder and leaving a layer of smeared white upon his dark coat.
Every ilm of the ruins of the ancient city of Amdapor seemed to be utterly enveloped in an uncanny mess of blooming white fungi, blanketing the once proud cityscape with writhing mushroom protrusions almost like alien life forms. Drifting spores littered the very air, settling on every surface and coating the shattered stone staircases in wriggling fungal blooms.
The city from the Fifth Astral Era, before its fall in a great war that had spanned the realm, had once been the home of White Magic – the birthplace of the most advanced form of aether-based healing, whose teachings were now currently known only by the Padjal of Gridania. E-Sumi-Yan, his instructor in Conjury, had hesitantly begged Joker's assistance regarding a recent disturbance in the aether within the depths of the fallen land. A corrupting presence that had the enigmatic Elementals of the Twelveswood apparently in quite a stir.
And given that Joker had been making it a point of late to explore places related to this world's numerous ancient civilizations – led by the tangential and somewhat desperate connection of Allag's lost technology so resembling that of Earth's – he had been quite eager to agree.
He squinted against the layers of dusty white, breathing shallow and careful. He was making do against each cloud of scratchy particles his every footstep kicked up with a scrap of cloth tied around his face. That and the helpful aid of a plethora of pre-emptive protective spells — courtesy of a calculating Y'shtola he'd traded a particularly nice vanilla tart to. Joker really hoped their effects would hold, not only because he didn't want to literally cough out his lungs, but also because he'd bought said tart from the famed Bismarck restaurant in Limsa Lominsa and he'd really been looking forward to it…
So far, Joker's haphazard wandering had led him to encounter quite an assortment of bizarre creatures that had made a home among the fungi — or, in many cases, creatures that the fungi itself had made a home of. He'd just gotten through taking down what he could only call a zombie-Goobue, the poor thing rotted down to protruding bones as a fungal infection decayed what little remained of its flesh, wriggling mycelium sprouting from within its gaping eye sockets and exposed rib cage.
But though he'd now been witness to plenty of horrific sights that he could've done without, he doubted any of them were out of the usual for this sad place — not something that would throw the Elementals into a frenzy, surely.
Joker tried to remain undaunted, despite the grim spectacles he routinely encountered upon his descent to the city center. He made liberal use of Ifrit to clear his way, heated claws tearing away layers of draping lichen and fungal residue. He was regularly forced to contend with waves of stirring undead exposed by his disturbances, including the re-animated remains of mages dressed in the tattered dregs of once white robes hobbling towards him on twisted and emaciated limbs.
He pulled back with horror and disgust as one of the fungal-infested bodies lunged for him, boring into his eyes with sunken empty sockets, rimmed in deeply crusted spores. Mouth twisting beneath his makeshift mask, Joker pressed a shaking hand that danced with aetherial embers against the snapping, dislocated jaw. Watched as fire caught and bloomed in a macabre display of light upon the dried skin of what had once been a man. He squirmed uncomfortably away from the ashen remains as the zombie collapsed into drifting particles that joined the dust and spores in floating upon the musty air.
Joker silently hoped that the ancient Magi that still lingered within the crumbling ruins of their home had already been long dead, their corpses mere puppets, entirely without awareness of their fate. The alternative was too grim to bear thinking about.
But at least the shriveling webs of fungal residue that had burned away at his fiery touch had exposed a… treasure chest?
Plain curiosity simply getting the better of him, Joker bent down low, running a hand along the top of the wooden lid and clearing it of a thick layer of dust. He supposed it couldn't hurt to take a peak…
And then Joker squawked in surprise and pain as a set of sharp, sharp teeth closed down on his reaching fingers.
He pulled a leg back, swiftly kicking the box away and watching the fang-filled mouth he had mistaken for a hinge snap open and closed repeatedly as it tumbled loudly down a spiraling set of stairs. Some kind of 'Mimic', evidentially. Of course it was. Dumbass…
Joker pulled his hand away, resisting the urge to lift the cloth over his face and stick his throbbing thumb in his mouth. God, falling for the oldest trick in the fantasy book, how idiotic.
There came a high-pitched laugh from behind him. Joker wheeled around, staring at the bizarre creature that tottered towards him through the layers of dust. Like a deformed monkey, round and bulbous, covered in matted fur. Its batty ears wiggled joyfully as its enormous, red-brown eyes locked upon him.
Seeing his perplexed face, it resumed its laughter, cackling maniacally as it pointed a long, gnarled finger in his direction. The chortling creature seemed to announce Joker's own mental commentary aloud.
"Idiot!" It croaked out at him between sharp teeth, voice grating, "Half-wit!"
Joker blinked. Tilted his head at it with a frown, "And you're very rude." He tutted as he shook out the pain in his hand. He'd seen a few of these things scurrying between the larger mushrooms before, but he hadn't realized they could speak.
…Heh. Well, it wasn't wrong. That had been rather stupid of him. He continued to watch it as the little beast's striped tail curled with mocking glee.
"Your stupid gloves are so gaudy!" It crowed merrily, jumping gleefully from one foot to another with its hands in the air, "Your fashion sense is atrocious!"
Joker feigned a hurt gasp, placing his hand over his heart, "Now that's just uncalled for!" He fake-whimpered, "I'm terribly hurt. You've just lost yourself a conversation partner, partner."
He didn't know what this little freak was, but if it was truly capable of speech then he figured he should probably just leave it be. It seemed content enough to frolic in the must and spores, after all.
He idly waved a hand at it as he made to continue his descent through the city, turning on his heel. He'd barely taken three steps forward before a harsh whisper seemed to coil in his ear.
"You'll never find your way home."
Joker froze, eyes widening. A genuine thrill of surprise ran through him. What did…?
He turned back to the bug-eyed beast. Its hands were folded together, palms rubbing. He swallowed, glad that the scrap of cloth was hiding his mouth. Surely it just meant that in a generic 'you'll never get out of here alive!' villain-monologue sort of sense. Just a coincidence. Surely.
The gremlin-thing chuckled, bulbous eyes narrowing with delight as it realized it had genuinely struck a nerve this time.
"Poor, weary wanderer…" It crooned breathily, taking a step closer, "So lost and so alone! No hope of return to where you were before. To who you were before…" The widening grin that showed off every one of its crooked teeth almost seemed to split its face in half, "Murderer."
Joker felt his heart beat faster and faster. A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck.
"They'll never take you back, you know…" Its voice pitched in a sing-song lilt, "Oath-breaker! Killer! …Not that it matters." The ghastly creature added, bringing a hand to its cheshire grin as it snickered, "You won't see them again anyway. You're going to die in this world, someone's blade in your belly — and they'll never even know what became of your dried up bones!"
Then it threw itself to the dusty ground in hysterics, twisted fingers gripping its stomach as it rolled and kicked its legs.
The beating in Joker's chest echoed in his ears. He threw himself forward, grabbing onto the gremlin hard enough to dig his fingers into its flesh. It squealed and thrashed as he brought it up to his face.
"What the fuck do you know?!" He snapped, vision red, anger pulsing. His fingers pressed down tighter. He felt something give underneath his hands.
The gremlin howled. It swiped a hand at him, claws catching across his face and slashing bloody scratch marks. It wriggled out of his grasp as his hold loosened, falling to the ground, where it lay gasping for air against the pain of crushed ribs.
It smiled again, eyes rolling.
"Murderer~" It sang, "Murderer~"
"Shut up!"
And within seconds was there an axe in his hand. He slammed the heavy steel head down, feeling the crunch of the gremlin's skull beneath it. Snarled as he drew it back again, smearing blood across the floor.
He brought it down a second time for good measure, the remains of the gremlin splattering to mashed gore. And then he pulled back, panting.
Joker tore the cloth away from his face, not caring that the unfiltered air that met his lungs was slowly searing them. He scrunched the scrap of fabric in a tight fist. Fuck that… that thing. Fuck it…
The ominously dark interior of the tower that met him in Amdapor's depths was almost a welcome sight. The spread of fungal blooms was far lighter here, the air still stale but much more tolerable. He returned the cloth to his face all the same, trying to force his fumbling fingers to stop shaking as he re-tied the knot at the back of his head.
White statues flanked him as he climbed up circular staircases, framing his ascent with the watchful, frozen eyes of winged lions and the vague shapes of men, poised as if they might spring to life at any moment. Eventually, he came upon the highest chamber of the tower, a bright, circular room containing what he was fairly certain was the problem he'd originally come here for.
Brilliant light spilled from a circular window above, shining down like a spotlight upon the large stone figure resting upon the tiled room's central podium. The intricately carved image of a woman, posture straight and noble, bearing a large sword.
And beneath the figure, as if watched over by its stalwart presence, lay an ornate, gothic gate. It was held shut, wrapped in layers of chains. And atop the iron links was an elaborate glyph composed of radiant White Magic – though it seemed to be steadily fading at the edges. An ancient seal, slowly weakening.
A persistent rattling echoed through the bright chamber as the chains shook. The black iron slats of the gate peeked open just a tad with each quivering blow, leaking a cloud of billowing shadow, spilling to the floor like dry ice.
As Joker drew closer, the light of the glyph dissipated. The clamor from the other side multiplied tenfold, the gates shaking violently. And with a final strike did they fly open.
Loosened chains clattered to the tiles below. There was a scrape of grating metal as the doors parted, revealing complete and total blackness on the other side.
Wide, curling horns pierced through the impossibly thick gloom. Clawed hands, gnarled and sinister, gripped either side of the gate as the creature within hauled itself through the widened opening.
A demonic-looking being spilled into the light. Some manner of Voidsent? Its sharp rows of teeth were bared open in a snarl as it beheld Joker at the other end of the room, dark, leathery wings spreading wide as they slipped from the black.
"You…" It growled, voice low and echoing, "A wretched white mage of Amdapor comes to finish the job?"
Joker drew upon his sword, assuming a defensive stance as the diabolic beast slunk closer on unsteady, taloned feet, wings fanned out behind it and quivering a little. It took him in with a tilted head, sharp teeth curling into a horrible grin.
"Or merely some lowly grave-robber, perhaps? It matters not. I have been imprisoned for an eternity, and I will sate my hunger upon your flesh!"
Its fanged mouth opened in a wide hiss. Joker stood his ground, unimpressed. This must be the big bad source of the aetherial disturbance, then. Indeed, he could feel the dark beast drawing greedily upon the very aether in the air around them, supplementing the strength in its withered limbs enough to strain further away from its ever weakening fetters.
The beast rose in the air, shadows writhing between its claws. It hurled them at Joker, an amused quirk to its lips as it watched him throw himself aside. Shards of white stone splintered behind him as the dark magic erupted against the tiles.
But just as Joker prepared to retaliate, he felt something begin to shift beneath his feet. His eyes widened in alarm at a sprawling red glyph branching across the floor, matching the terrible crimson sheen building in the Voidsent's cruel eyes.
The stones beneath him suddenly erupted into black spikes, piercing sharply into Joker's sides. The cloth at his mouth shredding to tatters, he cried out.
The pain caused him to inhale sharply despite his best efforts. A few flittering spores that lingered within the air of the tower bypassed his waning defenses and scratched at his throat. He stumbled aside, eyes watering as he fought a sudden coughing fit that seemed extreme for the scant amount that he'd breathe in. His rapidly drying mouth felt coarse like sandpaper.
Straightening himself, struggling against the sting of the tears in his skin and his swimming vision, he barely had time to raise his shield high to deflect another swipe of the vile claws. He twisted sharply on the spot, adjusting his angle to block the second hand that came at him from the other side. The Voidsent looked impressed in spite of itself that he was able to maintain so solid a defense in his weakened state.
"Such tenacity!" It chuckled, "A shame I must kill you."
It drew itself back, umbral aether flaring in blacks and red into a crackling sphere in its open palm. Its grin widened as Joker steadied himself, reaching into his heart, calling Arsène to the forefront of his mind. He braced for the impact of saturated darkness upon his body.
And then there came a flash of light.
Joker and the beast he faced both jumped in alarm as there was a sudden streak of bright white. The flash of a blade plunged straight through the Voidsent's back, pinning it to the floor.
The dark creature howled for a moment, sharp teeth protruding from its gaping mouth in a show of agony as the white light that radiated from the shimmering sword in its chest erupted across its dark scales. Steel sabatons pressed hard and heavy against its broken spine, holding it in place.
And then its head dropped lifelessly, striking the ground as the Voidsent's broken body melted into withering shade.
What lingering wisps of darkness that remained against the deluge of light coalesced into a small, dark shape. The weakened shadow of Joker's original foe sprung forth from the gloom as fast as its now miniscule wings could carry it, the ancient Voidsent fluttering away as little more than a tiny bat. Joker, still catching his breath, watched it flutter away in a panic, vanishing from sight as it rose into the sky through the open window in the ceiling.
He flinched as he heard an echoing creak. A groan of shifting stone, as the tower's final guardian turned its serene ire upon him.
The reanimated statue, now sprung to life, looked like an angel. In the Christmas manger display sense, not the biblically accurate abominations he'd encountered like Yaldabaoth. A shapely woman with white, feathered wings at its back. A beautiful, graceful face, frozen in a gentle smile. Quite literally so, as its face — as all of it, aside from the shining steel sword and armor it bore— seemed to be composed of something like pale porcelain.
The being in the image of a woman slowly raised its bowed head, neck craning at an uncanny angle to take in Joker with completely blank eyes. It righted itself from its crouch, leaning upon its mighty sword, sabatons clanking against the floor tiles.
And with creaking limbs did it raise its glittering weapon to the light of the heavens above, before swinging the blade down upon his head.
Joker dodged, skirting along the chamber wall. He supposed this must have been an ancient defense mechanism for the tower. And with the Voidsent gone, it now recognised him as the primary intruder. Ignorant to how he'd come here to slay the mutual foe that had just escaped its weaning shackles, the guardian saw him only as another threat to its long-dead masters.
He felt a bit bad to be facing it as an enemy – it seemed they shared the same goal, after all. But there was no talking down a stone.
Joker crouched defensively as the angel rose into the air on its shimmering wings, hovering before him and assessing his mobility. He brought a hand to his mask as it glowed with blue flame. It came with its own risks — as the fate of the Voidsent just now so horrifically showcased — but he knew what usually worked best against beings so strongly attuned to Light.
Joker tore off his mask, calling to the delighted Arsène that was already eager for action. His poor primary Persona hadn't had much of a workout lately, so this was a good chance to let the gleefully grinning bastard have some fun.
He swept his arm forward with a cry, his Persona calling swirls of seething darkness from his own self, forming tangible shadows that struck down upon the angel in dark flames.
It curled its wings protectively, flinching limbs and stiffening fingers conveying a negative response to the dark burn of an Eiha spell, even if its face remained entirely neutral. Joker continued the assault, Arsène's fiery grin widening at the chance to at last let loose.
The unrelenting wave of darkness descended upon the twitching statue until heavy cracks erupted across its smooth surface. It faltered, the light of its wings withering until it collapsed with one knee upon the ground, limbs stiffening until they stilled.
Joker smirked. Well, that hadn't been much of a fight.
But before he could step forward to examine the again-inanimate stone, a finger twitched. Joker leapt back in surprise as it suddenly threw its head back, almost like a gasp for air.
Its wings snapped open wide in the light that spilled from above, scattering the lingering embers of sinister flame in a burst of radiance. The cracks upon its body restored themselves before his eyes as White Magic so intense it made no distinction between flesh and stone spilled across its artificial body. Within moments, the guardian statue was fully 'healed'.
And upon freshly rejuvenated wings, the angel flew. It moved far swifter than Joker thought it capable from its heavy body, feathers streaking behind it like a billowing cloak. Its uncanny face suddenly pressed right into his own. He pulled away sharply, but not before its flashing blade lunged forward.
And then its sword was in his stomach.
Joker stumbled, back crashing inelegantly against the tiled wall behind him as Arsène vanished into scattering blue.
Though the tip of the shining steel pierced smoothly through the skin, it wasn't an especially deep wound. Well, not by his new standards. He'd definitely had far worse done to him at this point — as the starburst scar across his torso attested. But the issue was less the blow itself and more the magic that now glimmered along the blade's edge.
Joker's eyes widened, breath hitching in a soft gasp against what remained of the tattered scraps of fabric over his face, as he felt a wave of Light aether rush down the blade — into the wound. He shuddered a little at the feeling of it trying to weave up through his chest, attempting to squirm away.
The creature's uncanny, impassive face continued to gaze down upon him placidly as bright white burst before his eyes.
Joker tensed against the feeling, fingers curling against the gaps in the tiles at his back, anticipating a sting of awful, burning pain.
And then he was…
…fine?
The angelic creature seemed equally taken aback, despite the lack of notable change to its delicate face. Not wanting to waste the confusion, Joker swiftly tore his stomach off of the shining blade, only a small spurt of blood dripping in his wake as the wound already began to close over. With his new twin knives at the ready he leapt aside, putting some distance between it and himself.
He marveled briefly at how light his feet were, how easy his movements. He was better than fine, actually. Good. Still very much alive and feeling more energized than he had before the fight had started, aside from the touch of pain lingering from the sword wound itself.
And as he crouched, observing the angel as it placidly — warily? — drifted closer, Joker had a realization.
Ohhh. Oh, he knows what this is — Absorption.
He'd encountered it many times in the Metaverse. Made frequent tactical use of it, in fact. A passive ability of a Persona or Shadow in which affinity towards a particular element enabled it or its wielder to not only negate the impact of certain kinds of magic, but to take it in and strengthen the afflicted party.
Joker had little time to puzzle over it as the automaton again brought its sword down upon his head. He rolled aside, lunging out a leg and kicking the flat of the blade away from himself. The angel's wings flapped unsteadily, feet brought back to the earth as it struggled for balance.
But as he seized the chance to work his way to his foe's unguarded flank, he couldn't help but wonder.
Arsène was weak against Light. Even more so than Ice. It had been one of his worst elements during heists — one that he had quickly pulled his main Persona away from in favor of another whenever Oracle had assessed that a Shadow bore spells aspected to it.
Getting hit by light-based attacks with Arsène at the helm hurt like fuck. Like searing lashes that made him want to scratch away at any afflicted spots on his skin until pink and raw.
And he was definitely fighting with Arsène now. He called to him again, his Persona cackling with delightful fervor at their renewed energy, darkness and light both dancing at his clawed fingers in sublime swirls.
The twinning elements crashed against the angelic creature's side, sending it staggering. Joker leapt, both knives pulled back. Kicked off the blade of the dazed guardian's sword before plunging the two daggers into either side of its neck.
The ceramic splintered once more. Light again rushed to fill the cracks, to mold and mend. But Joker drove in deeper, calling more of Arsène's darkness to him. The shadows crept down the length of his steel. He snarled, pushing in, blocking out the flow of light with writhing shade. Pushed and pushed, his head throbbing with the effort to hold back so much aether with his own.
But eventually the angel's radiance faltered. The shimmering white within began to dull and fade, rippling shadows subduing its attempts to heal.
The weight of the stone head grew too heavy against the damaged neck as it began to sheer and split. The angel's spasming fingers loosened on its sword, letting it strike the tiles below with an echoing clatter. Joker continued to hold on tight to the handles of his daggers as it tipped sideways, the rest of it following suit.
And when they had both crashed into the floor did he bring his boot down heavily upon its wobbling head. There was a loud crunch. Its wings flapped desperately, scattering feathers flying free and fading to specks of aether.
He grit his teeth, pressing harder, grinding. Cracks began to run across the angel's face, splitting the persistently placid smile. With another few stomps, he'd crushed the porcelain to dusty fragments beneath his boot. The bizarre automaton fell entirely still — properly this time, the ambient aether in the air reclaiming its magicked wings in wisps of white.
Joker backed away, exhaling a little. He raised a hand to his face. Studied the red glove beneath the vambraces, silhouette dark and casting the shadows of godrays against the light that spilled from above.
So. Arsène absorbed light magic now. He absorbed light magic now. A fundamental and substantial change within his own soul.
("No hope of return to who you were before…!")
Joker scoffed aloud at the piercing memory of an annoyingly shrill voice. He shook his head sharply, internally grousing a little at the thought that he didn't have Futaba's scans to confirm or deny his theory.
But it was certainly plausible. He'd seen Personas evolve to have different elemental affiliations before. Some even lost their weaknesses as a result, or else gained means to mitigate them. In the Velvet Room he'd fused several with exactly that in mind before.
This was perhaps a tad more sudden and drastic than what he'd encountered previously, but he supposed it wasn't entirely unusual.
He shifted his foot, feeling the powdery remains crunch a little beneath the soles of his boots. It was a shame he'd lost track of that Voidsent from before, but at least it had been severely weakened and subdued. With it not likely to be a threat any longer, he supposed he was done here. Best return to Gridania and report his partial success to the Seedseers.
It was just a shame that he still hadn't found anything that might lead him to a way to go back—-
("You'll never find your way home!" Cackled an infuriating persistent memory. He cast it aside. Fuck off, fuck off…)
—- not that he'd really anticipated it. But he had learned something valuable nonetheless.
And regardless of how it had happened, one less weakness was hardly a bad thing.
Original Ao3 endnotes:
Gremlins are so mean!
Have a bonus sketch of another future glimpse: Yeah, a little light never hurt nobody!
Oh and since Christmas is almost upon us, happy holidays if you're celebrating! Thank you for all your kind comments and kudos on this and the main fic so far, I really, really appreciate it so, so much!