Arden went to the barracks and ordered a bath. There he discovered that not only was his clothing in tatters, he had sustained quite a few nasty scratches and bruises.
The soldiers who brought in the metal washtub and buckets of water advised him to bathe and wash the wounds before healing himself.
"It may smart more," said a soldier, "but you don't want those wounds closed with dragon blood still in them. If it doesn't turn you outright, it'll give you a nasty infection."
So Arden scrubbed off the blood and cleaned his wounds as best as he could. The soldiers dumped the dirty water and brought him fresh. It seemed that there was an accepted decontamination process in matters of dragon gore. Only after a healer had pronounced him clean was Arden allowed to cast lilies upon his own wounds and heal them.
Afterward the soldiers clad him in their own colors of yellow and blue with a chainmail shirt overall. Feeling warmer and a good deal heavier, Arden met the Scions in the mess hall for a belated supper.
"I have been in touch with Arenvald, our Warrior of Light," said Alphinaud. "He agreed to travel by aetheryte to Coerthas early tomorrow. The nearest station is in Camp Dragonhead, and it's only a few miles' ride down the road from here. He should arrive by midmorning."
"Excellent," said Cid. "All this talk of airships and complex mechanisms lifts my heart in ways I've never known. It's like rediscovering lost love."
"I tell you, Chief, you were the best," said Biggs. "Likely still are, if only your brains would cooperate."
"Yes, well, we must live to survive the Stone Vigil," said Alphinaud. "We have only Arenvald, myself, Z'mona, and Arden to count upon. I have my doubts that Drillemont will send any of his men with us. While Arden may be a match for a dragon aevis, there are larger beasts inside. True Dravanians whom we will not defeat so easily."
"If only the other Scions were still with us," Arden muttered.
"They're not dead, if that's what you mean," said Wedge unexpectedly. "At least, they weren't when we escaped."
Everyone straightened. "How many?" Z'mona demanded.
Wedge counted on his fingers. "Minfilia, Urianger, and Tataru. Thancred is in and out. I don't know if he's under cover or what."
"That only leaves Y'shtola unaccounted for," Alphinaud said.
"Oh, she wasn't captured," said Biggs. "She wasn't at the Waking Sands when the hammer fell. You lot haven't made contact with her?"
"We didn't know," said Alphinaud. He got up and walked off a few paces, twirling the linkpearl in his ear to call her.
"Our missions grow in difficulty," said Z'mona. He counted on his fingers. "Conquer a keep full of dragons. Find a crashed airship. Defeat a primal. Rescue our friends from the Garlean Empire."
"I wish we were conducting them in reverse order," growled Arden. He clenched a fist on the tabletop. "It burns my heart to think of any of our friends in their cruel clutches, let alone Minfilia and Tataru."
"Let us attend to the matter before us, then we will make the attempt," said Z'mona. "I confess that it scorches my own heart. An airship would come in handy during a jailbreak."
Alphinaud returned to the table, all smiles. "Y'shtola has been in Limsa Lominsa, working with the Maelstrom there. She was delighted to hear from me and pledged to meet us in Gridania as soon as we finish our mission here."
"We shall not fail our friends," said Arden. "I propose that we steal through the Stone Vigil as quietly as possible and draw little attention. Alphinaud, as an arcanist, have you any concealment spells?"
The boy pulled out his grimoire and paged through it, frowning in thought. After a moment he said, "There is one that might serve us. Traditionally it is only used by craftsmen for gathering materials in the wild who wish to avoid the notice of dangerous beasts. But I shall attempt to cast it upon our group. As long as we stay close together, it should thwart even a dragon's gaze."
"I know a similar spell, drawn from earth aether," said Arden. "I use it to repel biting insects. Perhaps it would serve to repel biting dragons."
"We can but try," said Alphinaud. "Let's turn in, everyone. We have lots to do in the morning."
As they waited for Arenvald to arrive the next morning, the Scions assisted with recovering the dead Inquisitor from the chasm. They helped carry the poor frozen corpse into the infirmary cold room, where it was covered in a sheet. Then Drillemont sent to Foundation for other Inquisitors to come identify their own. There was to be an inquest. Arden and Alphinaud had to write detailed statements of every interaction with the false Guillaime, for they would be of great use to everyone involved.
This passed the morning quickly. Arenvald arrived on chocobo back, waving cheerfully, clad in his new silver paladin armor. He had a new sword, too, which he enthusiastically showed off to Arden. When they told him of their plan to sneak through the Stone Vigil, he was slightly disappointed.
Drillemont had them escorted over the bridge and up the mountain to where the Stone Vigil perched upon a crag. It was a good strategic position, affording a view of the landscape all about. It was a fair-sized castle with battlements and several towers. No large dragons were in sight, but a group of tiny dragonflies circled the battlements, keeping watch on the men below.
"Gather close together, everyone," said Alphinaud, pulling out his spellbook. Everyone obeyed. Alphinaud read out the magic equation, and a ring of aether flickered into existence around them.
"There," said Alphinaud. "As long as the ring remains unbroken, nothing will notice us."
Moving close together, they crept up the long stairway to the Stone Vigil. The front gates had been torn away and partly burned, then blockaded with stone. Arden used his conjury to slide the stone away, opening a passage into the keep. As they crept inside, a long, snake-like amphiptere landed on the ground outside and nosed among the rocks, trying to figure out what had moved them. They hurried onward.
Drillemont had provided them with a map of the keep. The airship had supposedly landed in the rear courtyard, where it had been seized by the garrison of the time. But the Dravanians had taken the keep only a few days later and held it for two years. None knew if the airship was still there, or if the Dravanians had moved it.
Moving through the keep was not as easy as it should have been. The dragons had strategically toppled certain pillars and walls, blocking doors and hallways. This funneled invaders into a narrow, twisting way through the keep's outer passages and rooms, where it would be easy for the dragons to pick them off.
However, it seemed that none of the Ishgardians had ever attempted using a stealth spell before. Lurking wyverns looked around and snorted, but could neither see, hear, nor smell the intruders. They sensed something passing by, but could make nothing of it. The group had a close call when a frustrated wyvern set fire to a hall they had just left, trying to flush them from hiding.
In this way the group crept by dozens of dragons of all sorts, large and small, who draped themselves over old furniture or made nests of shredded bedding, making themselves at home in this human structure. They even saw a group of dragon aevis, all sitting around a fire like the men they had once been. Arden couldn't see why Ishgard wanted the Stone Vigil back at all, for the dragons had made a complete mess of the place.
At last they arrived at the rear courtyard. To their delight, an airship perched on the battlements. Its balloon sagged and needed reinflating, and it was hung with icicles and dragon droppings, but it looked intact. The trouble was that a huge white dragon lay snoring in the center of the courtyard.
"We'll just try to sneak by it," Cid whispered. "I must get my hands on that ship!"
"I'll keep the spell going," Alphinaud whispered. "Arden, Arenvald, Z'mona, stay here and keep an eye on the dragon. If it wakes, we'll need you to distract it."
Arenvald patted the hilt of the sword slung over his shoulder. "Leave it to us."
Z'mona drew aside into the shelter of the doorway, where he peered out at the dragon. A knife appeared in his hand. Arden had yet to see him in a real fight, and eyed the knife, wondering what good it would be against a dragon the size of an airship.
Alphinaud escorted Cid, Biggs and Wedge around the dragon and up the battlement stairs to where the airship rested atop the wall. Part of its underbelly had cracked and become caught on the stone battlements, holding it in place throughout two years of Coerthas blizzards. Biggs and Wedge clambered aboard, found some tools, and set about levering the ship free. Cid, meanwhile, pulled out his own tools and set to work on the engines.
This was all Arden had time to see. At that moment the air rippled a few feet above the sleeping dragon. A masked man in a black robe and hood emerged from nowhere and floated in midair, gazing at them inscrutably.
"Lahabrea!" Arenvald exclaimed, drawing his sword.
Arden whipped out his conjurer's rod. Z'mona retreated a little further into the shadows.
"So," said the Ascian thoughtfully, "you mean to slay Garuda next? Most interesting. And you are aware that her strength greatly exceeds that of your previous primal conquests? ...A testament to the fanatical devotion of her followers. The Ixal are nothing if not zealous."
"What do you want, Lahabrea?" Arenvald challenged. "All we want is to take the airship and go."
"Go to fight Garuda, you mean," the Ascian replied. His masked face turned from Arenvald to Arden. "In spite of your past achievements, I labor to believe that you will best this foe. Yet only a fool would underestimate the great Bringer of Light, slayer of Ifrit, bane of Titan. If any mortal is capable of defeating the Lady of the Vortex, it is you."
"I wasn't aware you were in the habit of paying compliments," said Arden.
Lahabrea smiled beneath the mask. "Win or lose, the battle should at least make for an entertaining spectacle." He raised a hand and purple-black magic began to boil around him. He returned his smirk to Arenvald. "Assuming, of course, you live that long."
Arden shuddered and backed away a step. It was the same darkness aether that Ascian had cursed him with back in the forest, when the unicorn had saved him. But this time all that power was directed downward, into the sleeping dragon.
The dragon snapped awake and leaped to her feet with a shriek. She turned in a circle, snapping her jaws and grinding her teeth, as if confused and in pain.
"See how your blasphemous gifts serve you now, crystal bearer!" Lahabrea yelled, then vanished.
"Well, here we go," said Arenvald, lifting his shield and taking a firm grip on his sword. "Stay back, Arden, the beast is mad with pain." He leaped down the steps into the courtyard. The dragon spotted him and lunged to the attack, snapping and clawing with her forefeet. Arenvald blocked the teeth but took a nasty swipe from the claws down his leg. Arden threw healing magic on him.
He wasn't sure when Z'mona moved from hiding. One moment the catboy crouched motionless in the shadows of the doorway. The next he was down in the courtyard, circling to stay behind the dragon. Two knives glinted in his fists now. The dragon paid no attention to him, her whole maddened intent to destroy the hyur with the shield and sword.
Arden missed the moment of Z'mona's attack because he was busy throwing lilies on the paladin. But suddenly the dragon stumbled and screamed, her left hind leg unable to bear her weight. Z'mona had hamstrung her. She whirled on three legs and blasted the whole side of the courtyard with icy breath that doused the cobbles and wall with white. Z'mona tried to dance aside but still his hair and clothing frosted over.
Arden threw healing magic on him, not sure if it would save him from frostbite. This time the dragon saw the direction the lilies came from and spotted Arden on the courtyard steps. She barreled toward him, hissing and snarling, her wings arched above her back.
Arden flung out a hand and blasted her in the face with Light, not bothering to shape it into any sort of spell. The dragon halted with her forefeet on the bottom step, blinded. She shook her head and bellowed her rage.
Arden ran lightly down the steps and joined his friends in the courtyard, but the dragon heard his boots on the stone. She turned with him, snapping her teeth on the air, and grazed his arm. He flinched away. Tasting blood, she charged after him, only to be met by a shield bash to the face from Arenvald. Arden pressed a lily to his wound and closed the torn flesh enough to stop the bleeding.
Z'mona had taken advantage of the dragon's momentary distraction. The Miqo'te ran up the dragon's tail, across her back, and knelt between her wings. There he drove both knives at an angle beneath her spine and sliced upward.
The dragon collapsed in thrashing ruin, screaming in anguish. Arenvald ran forward and delivered the death blow to end the beast's suffering. The dragon sank to the stone and lay still. At the same time, a flock of watching dragonflies on the roof set up a mournful keening.
"That's torn it," Arenvald said, wiping his sword clean on the dragon's shoulder. "Make for the airship before the whole keep comes after us!"
Arden, Z'mona, and Arenvald ran for the battlement stairs. The airship's balloon had been reinflated by a fire kindled in its furnace, and the hull was no longer caught on the bricks. As they leaped aboard, Cid spun a propellor and the engines coughed to life.
"Will she fly?" Arden panted.
"It'll be rough," Cid replied, hurrying to the controls. "But she'll get us at least as far as Whitebrim. Strap in, everyone."
Everyone hurried to the passenger seats and strapped in with restraints gone brittle and stiff from the weather. Cid gave the engines power, and the ship lifted into the air. It shuddered and jolted, then swung wildly to the right, off the edge of the cliff. They dropped for a terrifying few seconds, then Cid regained control. The ship leveled out and began to climb in a long curve, angling away from the Stone Vigil.
Behind them, several dragons took to the sky in pursuit. They flew after the airship, wings pumping.
"Can any of you deal with them?" Cid called.
Alphinaud and Arden unbuckled.
"Blind them and I'll do the rest," said the boy, opening his grimoire.
Arden drew upon his White Mage powers and built a ball of light between his palms. He flung it at the foremost dragon and called to his friends, "Look away!"
His companions shielded their eyes as the ball burst on the foremost dragon's snout. At once the dragons shrieked and fell into disarray, flying in every direction. Alphinaud struck each dragon in the left wing with a precise bolt of magic, and one by one they dropped from the sky to vanish into the mist below.
"Not aiming to kill?" Arden asked.
Alphinaud closed his grimoire and shook his head. "There has been enough death on both sides. Those dragons merely seek to avenge one of their own. Should they survive the fall to the mountainside, they may thank me someday."
Arden heavily doubted this, but he smiled and nodded anyway. They returned to their seats and strapped in.
Cid had been right to expect a rough ride. He controlled the ship by muscle memory, without quite understanding what he did. Biggs and Wedge had to help him, correcting him and explaining the controls. Arden watched surreptitiously, trying to learn the controls from a distance. His desire for his own airship built into a fanatical longing. He spent the rest of the journey calculating how much money he would have to save in order to buy one.
The ship jolted and jerked it's way around to Whitebrim, where Biggs and Wedge took over and landed it on the road outside the keep's walls. There the group went inside to collect the rest of their belongings. Arden secured Swift from the stables, and Biggs and Wedge negotiated with Drillemont for more furnace coke.
In exchange, Arden and Alphinaud provided Drillemont with a detailed map of the Stone Vigil's interior. They drew over his previous map to show which halls and rooms had been blocked, and the places the dragons hid to ambush attackers.
"This intelligence is priceless," Drillemont told them, staring at the map on the table. "The dragons will know that intruders passed through because of the airship recovery, and may redouble their defenses. But with this information, I believe we can mount an invasion force at once. You have our deepest gratitude, friends."
Arden and Alphinaud left the interview pleased and satisfied.
"You must admit, we've had quite the adventure up here," said Alphinaud. "All the same, I'll be glad to return to the green of Gridania."
"As am I," Arden agreed. "I only hope the airship will bear Swift's weight and I won't have to ride him all the way."
Despite Cid's uneasy protests, the airship lifted off easily enough with the chocobo aboard. Arden blindfolded the bird and made him lie down in the middle of the deck, so as not to unbalance it.
"Do not like," Swift complained. "Feels bad. Feels like boat. Is boat?"
"Is boat," Arden said, stroking the bird's neck. "Sit quiet, my beauty. Our voyage will be over soon and we'll be back in the forest."
"Plenty greens?" Swift asked hopefully.
"Plenty greens," Arden said with a laugh.
They docked the airship at the landing in the Carline Canopy and disembarked. As Arden led Swift outside and removed his blindfold, Z'mona and Alphinaud trailed after him.
"Don't rest too easy," Alphinaud warned them. "I'm putting the remaining Scions on the trail of our captured friends. We will face off with the Garleans soon enough."
"Not Garuda?" Arden said playfully.
Alphinaud grimaced. "As much as it pains me to allow that primal a few more days, we haven't the resources to penetrate her defenses just yet. I need Urianger back. He's the one who figures these things out."
"It pains me to imagine what they have suffered in captivity," Arden said quietly. "The brutality of Garlemald is legendary."
"Count me in," said Z'mona, driving one fist into a palm. "Any service I can provide, I will."
"Such as your knives," said Arden. "I didn't know you carried any." Even now, looking at the Miqo'te, Arden saw no sign of knife or sheath.
"I wear them under my clothes," said Z'mona. "Best way to foil an Ul'dah pickpocket."
"I thought you were a poor boy with no training," Arden said.
Z'mona grinned. "Thancred taught me how to fight. He's brilliant with a blade." His smile faded with a sigh. "Thancred. I hope he's all right."
"He will be," said Arden, clapping him on the shoulder. "Let me turn Swift loose in the paddock, and we'll dine on something without onions in it."
"Praise the Twelve," said Alphinaud fervently.
Y'shtola had not been idle in Limsa Lominsa. They met with her in Minfilia's rented house in Gridania. Yda made everyone a cup of tea, which was the only edible she could make without burning it. Cid, Biggs and Wedge came along, as well as Arenvald, Z'mona, and Papalymo. Every chair at the table was taken, so Arden took a stool in the chimney corner, where he tipped it back on two legs to lean against the wall.
"I've been gathering intelligence on our captured friends since the Waking Sands raid," Y'shtola said without preamble. Her blue eyes were intense, her white cat ears laid back. "Wedge and Biggs confirmed the information I had. Minfilia, Tataru, and Urianger are being held at Castrum Centri in Mor Dhona."
Arden didn't exactly know where Mor Dhona was, except that it bordered Coerthas in some way. He listened closely.
"But why?" Alphinaud asked, clenching his fists. "Why the raid at all? What did they hope to gain by capturing the Warrior of Light?"
"What they gained, in the end, with Minfilia," said Y'shtola in a flat, lecturing tone that didn't match the flash in her eyes. "Access to the Echo."
"Aye, Garlemald knows a lot about machines," said Biggs. "But the Echo? I imagine Gaius Van Baelsar can't wait to get his hands on a new weapon."
Mention of the name seemed to jog Cid's memory. He slowly lifted his head. "Gaius Van Baelsar?"
"Sure, Chief," said Biggs. "You used to work for him and all. Legatus of the Fourteenth Legion and all. Marched across Eorzea and fired off the Meteor project."
"No," said Cid slowly. "It wasn't Gaius. It was … Midas nan Garlond. My father."
"Nael von Darnus was the leader of the Eorzea strike, but that's neither here nor there," said Y'shtola. "Baelsar–the Black Wolf–is known to have unearthed a weapon of ancient Allag at Cartineau. It's name is Ultima, and we know little more than that. However, we suspect that he wishes to lay hands on the Echo to further empower his weapon. I need not tell you what a horrible thing it would be to have the Echo weaponized and used against us."
Cid nodded with a look of comprehension in his eyes that they had not seen before. "That's definitely something he would do." Raising a hand to his forehead, he closed his eyes a moment. "The trails of memory are growing easier to follow. We all admired Gaius at the academy. Wished to be his star engineer. Nero and I were the top students, but Gaius said my ideas were better. Wanted me to design warmachina, but I … I wanted to lift up mankind through technology, not destroy them. Airships and machines and … and …" Cid paused and opened his eyes to see everyone watching him. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. Miss Y'shtola, please continue."
"It's good to see you coming back, Cid," said Y'shtola softly.
"Baelsar captured Ala Mhigo, if it matters," said Yda. "Been eyeing the rest of Eorzea ever since."
Cid rubbed his temples. "Go on. My mind is spinning."
Y'shtola turned to the rest of the group. "I sent a scout to snoop around Castrum Centri and eavesdrop on chatter there. The Scions are being held in the main tower, but they're going to be moved to a larger facility by the end of the month. We must act now if we mean to rescue them. Any ideas?"
"Easy enough," said Cid. "Dress as a Garlean patrol and walk in."
"Oh, that easy, is it?" Y'shtola said with an amused smile. "How do you propose we go about it?"
"Capture uniforms and hardware from an existing patrol," said Cid, as if this was the simplest thing in the world. "Take their papers and walk in a little late. Once inside, we simply ask to report to the commander and enter the tower to do so. Grab our friends and run. It'll be easier if we can lay hands on an armored mech, of course."
Everyone stared at Cid for a moment. He stared into space with a frown, obviously thinking about something else. After a moment he noticed their expressions and looked around. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No," said Papalymo. "It's a good suggestion. However, it will take much coordination to pull off. We will likely need your airship for our escape."
Cid rose to his feet. "I'll start on that right away. Biggs and Wedge, will you help me?"
The pair leaped to their feet at once. "Right away, Chief!" Wedge exclaimed.
"We'll have her shipshape in no time," agreed Biggs.
The three of them went out together, already talking about parts and aetheroelectrical systems. The door closed and there was a brief silence.
"So." Y'shtola steepled her fingers. "We send a team in disguise as a Garlean patrol. We will have another team waiting outside at an extraction point, to be decided once we scope out the Castrum more closely. It's a complex plan, but with enough preparation, I'm sure we can execute it. Now I suggest we all meet in Revenant's Toll in Mor Dhona. The people there live on the Castrum's doorstep and will have far more information than we do." She turned to Arenvald. "As our Warrior of Light, I anticipate that you'll be accompanying the infiltration team?"
"Yes ma'am," said Arenvald, beaming. "But what about Arden? He's a Warrior of Light, too."
"Is he?" said Y'shtola offhandedly. "He's only a healer. We need a paladin on this excursion who can protect others at need. Arden will accompany the extraction team and tend any wounded we might receive."
Arden tried not to feel like he'd just been slapped in the face. Arenvald gave him a pained smile, then returned to attending to Y'shtola's instructions. After a moment, Arden rose from his seat and left the house.
Only a healer.
It stung straight through his ego and into his heart to be so measured and discarded. He knew he shouldn't take it personally, knew that Y'shtola's practical mind had filed him away in a tidy box. But he thought of Ifrit's flames and Titan's fists, and he wanted to break something.
He went to the Adder's Nest and requested a map with directions to Mor Dhona. Then he outfitted himself with travel supplies from the quartermaster, spending too much money to do it and not caring. Then he went to the paddock, whistled for Swift, and fed him a pile of greens. As the bird ate, Arden saddled him and loaded him with supplies. Then he rode out into the gathering night without a word to anyone.
Riding alone helped him think. Arden hadn't had any time to himself since before the fight with Titan, and Coerthas had left fresh bruises on his spirit. He rose along in the dark, letting Swift follow the road. His thoughts drifted to the dead Scions and the Waking Sands left dark and empty. Rescuing the captives might atone for his negligence, but it would not return the slain to life. The memory of the dead lines up on the road made his heart weep and rage all over again. And yet he wasn't to be allowed to help rescue the living.
The bird paused at crossroads for instructions, and Arden consulted his map. After a while he began talking to the bird as he would a person.
"Why is it that I am always the one assigned the worst jobs, yet I'm also the most overlooked?"
Swift glanced back at him with a bright black eye. "Eh?"
Arden told him about Ifrit, where he had earned renown he didn't want, and about Titan, who he'd been compelled to fight. Then he spoke of the Waking Sands and the murder done there. "And still, the only one who ever listened to me was Minfilia. The others think I'm just this monstrous Au Ra who can't wait to get into fights. Then tonight, Y'shtola assigned me to the backup team just because I'm a White Mage. I want to rescue Minfilia and the others–and dress in disguise–and bluff the Garleans and–" He broke off with a sigh. "You probably don't understand any of this, do you? You're only a chocobo."
Swift trotted on in silence for a moment, then slowed to a walk. "I hear pain in your words."
Arden nodded. "I guess you do."
"I love my first master," said Swift. "He raised me from chick. I think we be together forever. But we race other chocobos and he beat me. I try to run faster but he beat me more. My legs too sore to run. I tell him but he not understand. Then …" The bird hesitated.
"Go on," said Arden softly. Swift had never told him this much before.
"Another race," said Swift. "I hurt. He hit me with whip on my hurt places. I stop running. Turn in circles, bite his legs. Make him sore so he not walk. He hit me but I not care. People come, take me away, take him away. I make him bleed. He curse me, call me terrible names. My love for him turn to hate."
"I'm sorry," Arden said softly, stroking the feathery neck.
"Give me to soldiers," said Swift sadly. "They find sore places, put medicine that feel better. Leave me alone in field. Very kind to me, but lonely. Then you come. Never hit me, understand my words. I think of the good times with my old master and I sorrow. If only you had been my master. If only he had been as kind as you. My heart split in two, you see?"
"I see," said Arden. "Thank you for telling me this."
"We alike," Swift said. "People see me attack my master. Fear me. Whisper, whisper. Soldiers give other chocobos to people, leave me in field. Afraid I attack more people. Never tell anyone, only say I fail at races."
"And people only see me as an Auri beast man God slayer," said Arden slowly. "A tool to be used."
"And feared," said Swift. "But you have friends. I carry you and catboy in snow. He trust you. Not see monster."
The thought of Z'mona sent a pang of guilt through Arden's heart. "I did him wrong, taking off like this without a word. I'll apologize once we get to Mor Dhona."
"Other friends?" asked Swift. "Little boy? Man who build machines?"
"Cid, maybe," said Arden. "He's too busy trying to recover his memories and build airships to bother about being friends with anyone. Alphinaud…I'm not really a friend to him, either. On the airship back from the Stone Vigil, he told me that he was afraid the dragon would kill me and Arenvald, and his next task would be to find a new Warrior of Light. Laughed and thanked me for sparing him the trouble. I … I don't know how to feel about it."
"One friend better than none," said Swift.
Arden thought about it. "Only Minfilia ever understood. And Thancred. But they're both gone. I'll do everything in my power to get them back."
"I can fight, too," said Swift. "I your friend. Make bad guys hurt and bleed."
Arden patted his neck. "Thanks, my beauty, but the Garleans' weapons would kill you in an instant. It's why we must sneak in, pretending to be their soldiers. We can't fight them without an army."
"We get them back, you not hurt anymore?" Swift asked.
Arden slowly shook his head. "I'm afraid some part of me will always hurt, Swift."
It took two days of steady riding to reach Mor Dhona. Arden camped beside the road and slept with his back against Swift's warm side. It made for comfortable sleeping, but by the time they reached their destination, Arden smelled exactly like a chocobo and wished desperately for a bath.
They followed the mountains of Coerthas westward, the road winding up and down among the foothills. It was a good road, paved with gravel and built up with stones in the low places. They often met merchant carts coming or going, all heavily guarded by sellswords or retainers.
At last they reached Silvertear Lake that marked Mor Dhona's southern boundary. Arden halted Swift and they gazed at the lake for a while in silence. Standing out of the middle of the water were the remains of the biggest Garlean airship Arden had ever laid eyes on. It seemed to have crashed nose-downward and stuck that way. The reason it hadn't succumbed to gravity was obvious enough–twined snake-like around the ship's length was the rotting carcass of an immense dragon. In fact, Arden had to study it for a while to make sure that it was a dragon and not some fantastic serpent, but he spotted limbs and wings along its length.
"What happened here?" Arden murmured.
Swift clicked his beak. "Dragon and ship dead, lake goes on. We almost home? Plenty greens?"
"Plenty greens," Arden promised.
They followed the road around the western edge of the lake and struck a crossroads. Here an even wider road came up from Thanalan, and they had to wait for several large carts to pass. They fell in behind them and followed them up into the hills, where Revenant's Toll was built. As they went, the earth beneath their feet changed to corrupted crystals, all blue water aether. As Arden gazed around, he realized that the entire northern shore had been so blasted that all of it had turned to crystal, even the trees. In the distance, a tower made of similar blue crystal pierced the sky like a jagged needle.
There was a traffic jam at the gates of Revenant's Toll, which appeared to be a half-finished stone fortress built over a pass in the hills. As they waited in line, Arden asked a nearby sellsword, "What turned the whole place to crystal like this?"
The sellsword nodded to the ship and the dragon in the lake. "The bloody Keeper of the Lake, that's what."
"What happened?"
"Garleans attacked with their latest and greatest airship, the Agrius. Just when we thought all was lost, the biggest dragon anyone ever saw showed up and attacked the ship. Bloody Midgardsomer, eldest of the dragons or some such. Why he took exception to the ship is beyond me. Anyway, dragged it out of the sky and crashed into the lake, killed them both. Huge explosion of fuel and aether. Wiped out the old camp here, crystallized the area for miles around. Nobody survived. They said that only the dead were left to mourn the dead, so they named the new town Revenant's Toll in honor of the poor saps."
"What of that?" Arden asked, pointing at the distant tower of crystal.
The sellsword spat in its direction. "Bloody Allegan construct. Shoved its way out of the ground during the Calamity, as if we hadn't enough problems. Nobody can get in, even the people who have studied it for years. Trust me, keep your business to the town here and don't go roaming. Mor Dhona is a dangerous place."
These words only served to whet Arden's curiosity to a keen edge. But he had business to attend to, so he turned his back on the crystal landscape and entered the gates.
He found himself entering a bustling market square. Permanent stalls were built in rows, hawking goods of every kind. To Arden's bewildered eyes, it seemed as if the riches of all three city-states were on display.
He asked about an inn and was pointed down a sloping street, among stone tenement houses crammed with people. He made his way among them, leading Swift through the crowded street, and finally reached another square. Here an aetheryte crystal stood proudly, carefully constructed amid its rotating rings and orbiting crystals, attended by the usual mages. Arden attuned himself to it, much as he didn't want to. He took Swift to the stables and paid for extra greens. Then he went to the inn to inquire about lodging.
In the common room he found the Scions. Y'shtola, Arenvald, Z'mona, Yda, Papalymo, and Alphinaud occupied a corner table, the remains of their noon meal scattered about them. A map and various papers littered the table, and they seemed deep in conversation. There was no sign of Cid, Wedge, and Biggs.
Arden approached the table. "How goes?"
"Arden!" exclaimed Arenvald. "Grab a seat! What took you so long?"
"Had to hike it," said Arden, securing an extra chair from an unoccupied table. "What have you learned?"
"We've managed to secure both uniforms and magitek armor," said Arenvald with a white grin beneath his fair mop of hair. "The uniforms were easy to come by. Lure a Garlean scout into the marsh, deal with him, take his clothes. A couple of fellows here in town told us how to do it, they're ex-conscripts themselves."
"Then we took the magitek armor," said Z'mona brightly, ears pricked. "Wasn't easy! Came with a whole patrol, Cid had to jam their communications to keep them from calling for help. They've got it in the building across the way, fixing it up."
"Sounds like you had all the fun without me," said Arden with a wry smile.
"The fun, as you call it, is yet to come," said Y'shtola. "We will set our plan in motion the moment the armor is mobile." She turned to Z'mona. "Speaking of which, do you mind checking with Cid? Get him anything he needs."
"Yes ma'am!" Z'mona leaped from his chair. "Arden, come see it! It's beautiful up close!"
Arden followed the catboy out of the inn, still somewhat nettled by Y'shtola's cool attitude. Once they were outside, Z'mona turned to him.
"Arden, why did you up and leave like that? I've fretted for two days. Was it something I did?"
"No, not you," said Arden, suddenly weary. The road he had traveled seemed to wind away beneath his boots still. "Y'shtola refused to let me help rescue the prisoners. Said I was only a healer. It galled me to be so looked down upon."
Z'mona's lips shrank to a small o. He gazed at the cobbles underfoot for a moment. Then he looked up and touched Arden's arm. "If you weren't a healer, my friend, I wouldn't be standing here right now."
"Am I only a healer, then?" Arden asked.
Z'mona's brow furrowed and his tail flicked. He gazed at the short sword in its sheath at Arden's hip. After a moment, he met Arden's violet eyes once more. "You are my friend. That is more important than any job you may hold. And as your friend, pay Y'shtola no heed. She has the mind of a scholar, and everything must be neatly quantified on every line. In time you may come to know each other better. She does have a good heart, when it isn't smothered by her brain."
"I'm not sure I care to," said Arden. "Lead me to this magitek armor."
Z'mona took him across the aetheryte square to another big stone building. Inside they found a magitek workshop full of tools and equipment. In the midst of it stood a two-legged vehicle. It reminded Arden of a mechanical chocobo, heavily clad in black armor. A cockpit was built into its back, with a seat and controls. Cid, Wedge, and Biggs had taken the armor off its side and underbelly, and were tinkering with its innards.
"I brought Arden to see her," said Z'mona with the air of showing off a new child. "How's she faring?"
"Not so good," said Cid, crawling out from under the mech. "She blew her regulator in the struggle to bring her in, and I haven't the parts to make another."
"What's a regulator?" Arden asked, although he had a feeling it was important.
"Only the heart of the whole bloody machine," said Biggs. "The regulator maintains the aetheroelectrical levels. Without it, she's dead as a ship's anchor."
"What do we do, then?" Z'mona asked sorrowfully, patting the machine's side.
Cid pulled off his gloves and picked up a notepad. "Well, our other option is to use a mammet heart. But it would have to be specially designed to integrate with Garlean hardware."
Arden had seen mammets before–little mechanical toys animated by magic that ran about and did simple tasks. He gazed at the machine, particularly its guns, and wondered if giving it that sort of life was a good idea.
But Z'mona inhaled and seemed to glow from the inside. "A mammet heart! That's … that's gold smithing!"
"Yes, unfortunately," said Cid. "Goldsmiths don't work cheap, I'm afraid."
"I'm a goldsmith!" Z'mona exclaimed. "Give me some paper and pens!"
Arden watched in amusement as Z'mona settled crosslegged on the floor and began to draw a detailed schematic. Soon Cid, Biggs, and Wedge were clustered around him, watching him draw and making suggestions. Sensing that they'd be at it for a while, Arden excused himself and went to find a meal and a bath.
The inn provided plenty of both. Arden finally washed away the chocobo smell and ate a good, hot meal, and his spirits greatly improved. He even felt kindly toward Y'shtola. After all, he admitted to himself, she was doing the best she could to pull off a very dangerous mission.
It was growing dark when he made his way back to the garage across the square. There he found that Z'mona had moved to the workbench, which had been cleared to accommodate sheets and sheets of paper. Cid, Biggs, and Wedge had acquired books of mechanical engineering somewhere, which were open on every surface with bits of paper marking various passages. The magitek armor loomed sadly behind them, dead and silent.
"Arden!" Z'mona exclaimed, holding up the schematic with the enthusiasm of a child showing an art project to a parent. "Look at this! Isn't it beautiful?"
Arden looked at the detailed schematic and pretended it made sense to him. "It certainly looks complex."
"It'll require a mark three heart build," Z'mona said, cracking his knuckles. "I've only ever worked on mark twos, but I'm sure I can pull this off with the right equipment. Trouble is, only the Goldsmith Guild in Ul'dah has the tools I need."
"It'll be pricey," Wedge said. "Y'shtola has graciously opened the Scion's coffers to us, and everybody has chipped in what they can. Z'mona will take the plans and the gil to Ul'dah tomorrow first thing and start work on it."
"I'll go with him," Arden volunteered. "I can run messages and errands." It was better than waiting around Revenant's Toll, where he would be tempted to wander out into the crystal wastes in search of trouble.
Z'mona gave him a grateful look. "Thanks, Arden."