The sickeningly orange chunk of crystal hurtled down toward the mixed group of Eorzeans along the shores of the Isle of Umbra. They all wore patches on their gear that identified them as members of the Astral Agency -- a simple adventuring company  with a not so simple fate. 

Corrupted aether sparked and flashed from the crystal , ready to be released  in the form of a tremendous explosion. It was roughly the size of a house, and had been disengaged from the larger structure that pierced structure of Pharos Sirius.  The woman responsible for the feat stood a good few yalms from the group, visibly unphased by the oncoming catastrophe. Whether she did not think it could harm her or whether she cared, it was difficult to determine. She remained as she always had been, dressed in slim black robes with her grey hair tied into a painful-looking bun. Jet black eyes peered from her sallow face, presenting the gaggle of adventurers with haughty dismissal.

From the top of a nearby cliff, a man dressed in ragged black leathers crouched and observed the dire spectacle. His collar was drawn up to the bridge of his nose, leaving only night-black eyes peering from under a rather messy mop of black hair.  Joshua Black knew all too well that the corrupted crystal's fall would obliterate the group of Astral Agents, despite the glittering linked hexagons erected by the yellow-haired miqo'te conjurer. I'sen, his name was? Something like that. Regardless of how well that shield had been serving them during the battle, it would do nothing against the sheer volume of energy about to be  released.  The miqo'te thaumaturge next to him seemed to know better than to lob any fire, ice or thunder at it, at least. They had only ticks to take action -- but there was no action that could save them...save from Joshua himself. 

Using the strange proficiency at teleporting that his unique and hard-gained abilities had afforded him, he vanished from his little vantage point, and appeared on the surface of the sparking, crackling crystal. It had hurt to materialize upon the thing, excruciatingly so. Still, what had to be done, had to be done. He couldn't let those poor things die, Mountain had trusted him  with their lives.

He took a look at the woman in black, standing there with aloof expectation, waiting for the thunderous din that would signal the group's end. "...Mother." It was all he could say, and into the word he poured as much distaste as possible. To the group below him, he offered a yell. "Try not to die after this!"

The world dissolved around him, and with it came pain the likes of which he had never known. He had never wanted a painful death, but here it was. At least it wouldn't last long. Where there had been a group of frightened adventurers below him there was now a wide expanse of ocean -- quite clear from the towering crystal-struck lighthouse in the distance. Well, that bit was done. 

"I'll see you around, Jacob."

The crystal hit the water. With the tremendous explosion, Joshua Black saw no more.

Bright! The light stabbed at the back of his eyes the moment he opened them. That was a TERRIBLE idea. With the discomfort of the light, a fresh wave of pain flooded through him, gone as quickly as it had come. Delirious, the man tried to come entirely to his senses -- and risked cracking open an eye again. It was sunny, and hot. Humid, too. he could hear the sound of water gently lapping against the shore, and feel warm sand at his back. Blah, that would get everywhere.

It was still too damned bright for him to see, damn it -- but he did hear voices; three of them, murmuring, discussing, lilting with excitement as he stirred. Finally, things came into focus and Joshua Black took a look around him. 

He was alive. His leathers had been nearly shredded, and his pale skin was marked with odd burns, but he was alive. How he had survived that explosion he would never be able to explain. Slowly, he sat upand took a look around. As he had heard, three individuals crouched around him, all eyes pointed in his direction with quiet, suspenseful concern; two hyur men and a very pretty elezen woman. 

Wait -- it was in the daytime, and he had tried to get rid of that crystal at night. How long had he slept? How did he get back to shore? And --

"Where's Jacob?" He asked hoarsely.

The first Hyur, a midlander with stunning golden locks and glittering silver armor shook his head slowly. "Sorry, my friend. I don't know any Jacob. Do you remember what happened to you? Aetheryte gone wrong? You're lucky we were here when you popped into view. Here of all places, though." He looked up at the towering, crystal-struck lighthouse above. "Ah well -- you took a little bit of a fall, but Liucen and Felicia mended you up alright." A gleaming gauntlet indicated toward the somewhat short, red-haired Highlander fellow and the pale, pretty white haired elezen. They both nodded in turn. "My name is Raymond. If you want, we can take you back to Aleport so we can get you sorted out. Your belongings came with you, thankfully."

Raymond produced a small black pouch, and handed it over. "You'll find everything in it, the way it's supposed to be. We haven't tampered."

Joshua nodded and took the pouch. His gloves had been torn, and the skin beneath them irritated and burned. "Thank you. What day is it?"

For the first time in a long time, Joshua Black felt fear as the red-haired highlander told him the date. If he was right, then it meant he had slept for eight moons. Or...not slept, if he had just appeared back at the lighthouse. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Had the Agents won? Had the woman -- his mother -- Ithys Black defeated them? 

"I need to get to Director Mountain," He blurted. "Can you take me to him? He may be in Revenant's Toll."

Looks were exchanged among the three. "...Fortuitous," Raymond murmured, "While I'm not quite sure about the Director bit, Liucen did come across a Mountain on his travels. We can take you to Revenant's Toll, if you like."

"Thank you. Thank you -- I'll be up in a moment to come with you. You can keep whatever gil I have as payment."

Liucen himself jerked a chin toward Joshua's face. "Don't want to sound rude, friend, but you've got an interesting pair of eyes there."

"Liucen, really? Here? Now?"

"I don't mean it like that! Just look at them!"

More uneasiness gripped the black-swathed fellow. Felicia, the Elezen noticed his state and quietly produced a little mirror from a bag slung around her shoulders. Joshua Black peered in and bright orange eyes the color of corrupted crystals peered right back.

On the beach of an island that stood as part of the Cieldalaes, a large bonfire burned brightly. It illuminated a long strip of the sand, as well as the outline of a dinghy out on the water. Several men sat around the fire; midlanders and sea wolves alike. Seamen -- seamen of a rather unsavory variety, judging by the harshness of their colors. They all seemed transfixed, staring into the crackling flames with unnatural interest. Some of them had been drinking; the grog had fallen right out of their hands to spill onto the white sand below. 

Soft, lilting plucks of a harp drifted on the air, swirling about a voice both womanly and sweet. The words sung were unimportant and garbled at the moment; the vagueness of the melody was in itself captivating. As the waves washed over the sands, so did her song sweep over the men gathered around the fire. 

From nearby, slender bare feet sank into the cushioning sand, warm and inviting from the fire. Maroon silk skirted elegant ankles, caressing them with each graceful step powered by swaying, slim hips. Clutched in pale arms was a harp, plucked and strung in gentle fashion to accompany the voice that emergred from between the maroon-painted lips. To crown it all, auburn curls bounced over slanted eyes as dark as night, interrupted only by the pointy pale ears on either side. 

The elezen woman circled the group, her steps ever slow as the words of her song grew ever clearer.

The song picked up in pace as the notes grew dire; the beginnings of a calm yet speedy lament. 

All at once, the men slumped and tumbled in a cacophony of thuds, as if strings supporting them had been cut. With almost reverent grace, the woman ceased on the strings and swept down to examine the nearest man. Quite dead. The next, and the next. Dead, every one.

"Well, that was rather more effective than I thought," Cooed a voice from behind her. 

Another elezen emerged -- this one quite different from she; her own skin was white as moonlight, rendered orange in the fire's glow. Silver ringlets spilled from her head, splashed upon by firey gold. Even her eyes reflected the flames, dancing and jumping even through calm observation. In her hands were both a grimoire and a quill, elegantly brandished. "Yvonne."

"Felicia," The harpist Yvonne greeted in reply. "Are Raymond and Liucen here?"

"Yes, yes, they're here. Superstitious dolts, the both of them. Convinced that your song is a poison for men. I would enjoy sitting them down to explain how it works." Felicia's voice was barely a sigh. "...it did do well though. It made them extremely susceptible to the toxin."

"I'm glad I could help," Yvonne murmured with a slight bow. "I hope they know they need to come and help us -- I'll not be moving these men on my own. Pirates or no, we can't just leave them here for the gulls."

Felicia turned with a dazzling whirl of her glittering gown. It was a moving tapestry of reflection that sought to rival the fire itself. A pause set her gaze back. "I'll fetch them, not to worry. Oh, I must ask...that requiem. Is it for your mother?"

Yvonne's maroon smile was sad, yet not unpleasant. She nodded. "And all her foes. I'll wait here for you then. Hurry back."