
((Follows directly after the events in Just Two Minutes.))
***
An Ul'dahn morning was hardly different from an Ul'dahn night or afternoon. The air was still oppressively thick with the smells of the destitute and the ill, and the walls trapped an unhealthy heat even this early in the day. The mess of it confused Antimony's already strained and exhausted senses, and her mind gave up trying to make sense of her direction for a time. She could still catch the lingering scents of K'ile and K'luha in her nose, could still hear their voices, mingling with Illira's and, more dangerously, others from years ago, and her feet could not stop until they left her at peace. Until the screams and flames faded once more.
Limsa had not been far enough.
An hour passed until she slowed to rest one hand against the shaded wall of a quiet alley. The coat she still clutched close to herself, the fur of its collar tickling her neck and chin. Her eyes were swollen and itchy and she could feel a dry stiffness upon her cheeks, though she couldn't remember crying. She had told herself she wouldn't cry.
There in the alley, Antimony paused in her flight to catch her breath and hoped that her thoughts would not catch up to her in the meantime.
No matter how fast her thoughts were, something else caught up to Antimony first. Or it had been there waiting, as if it knew where she would run. One way or another, something brown and thin stirred in the deep shadows along the wall not even a meter away from where Antimony stood. To say it stirred was to overstate the movement. It shifted. It mildly swayed. The same amount of movement one might get out of a large tree by brushing it with a reluctant breath, the thin brown form moved its face.
It's voice was a whisper in the voice of a stone, "I understand."
The words rolled through her like a frigid, stormy wind, and her ears pressed back flat against her head as her eyes darted up towards its source. It took several moments to discern the blue-grey-brown from the rest of the early morning shadows, but when she did, she could not help the shiver in her tail, nor the way her arm curled a bit tighter around the coat.
He killed my mom. Was that true?
"What--" She breathed out, shuddered, found herself split painfully across three divergent fears. Too much. "Understand... what?"
The form lurched forward, leading with its shoulders and then swaying as the head and neck snapped into place. It stepped out of the shadows, light falling on the Duskwight's greasy heair, but leaving his face obscured. Dark lines settled into every crag of his face, left his eye sockets black pits from which silver eyes only faintly shone.
There was no expression in those eyes, and the words were coolly informative. "I understand why I could not kill you in the Shroud, despite my many, many chances. I recognize your torment."
"You recognize...?" The lurching of the Duskwight's form seemed more ominous, more threatening than it had in a while, though neither his appearance, or really his behavior had changed. It was almost enough to cut through the hurried panic, the desperation that had driven her steps away from people she knew held nothing against her, nor did she them. But that fire...
"There is nothing to recognize," she uttered faintly, sagging somewhat against the wall. "I am fine." She would be. Just like before. She only needed to get away, far away. Just like before.
"My family was immense," the Duskwight said. "Besides my brothers and sisters, nephews and neices, I had several children of my own. And granchildren, and more, and all of them are gone now. Except the one."
Something twisted in her chest, something writhing and burning. She closed her eyes against it for a moment before dragging her eyes back up, brow creased heavily in confusion as she demanded, voice shaking, "Then why would you try to kill her??"
With a sly, slow smile, Megiddo Desfosse said, "You know why. We feel the same pain, don't we? To answer your question, just ask yourself what you're running away from."
"I could never hurt them! Don't you--don't you suggest--!" Her tail lashed wildly behind her, and that stinging had returned to her eyes, though nothing fell. Her hand curled into a tense claw about the coat. He could not know! How dare he presume and judge, when he'd done such horrible... He couldn't-- "I didn't kill them! I couldn't--I just couldn't stay! I... can't stay..."
"You're far too gentle," Megiddo said, pacing out of the shadows and speaking patiently. "But I saw how they victimized you. Only family can do such a thing. Now one is disabled and the other clueless. if you'd like, I can make it so they'll never. Follow you. Again." With a small chuckle, "It wouldn't hurt, of course."
Nausea dragged on her gut, distorted the walls of the alley until all she could see was the impossibly tall shadow looming before her. Her head dipped at the sensation, but still she could see Megiddo's form, in her mind now a jagged silhouette cut into the flames that bore down with their endless hunt. They would never... "No one has victimized me!" she protested, voice shaking. "Not them--it's not... it's not their fault! They couldn't save... I couldn't stop them. I will not do what you've done!"
"Now let's calm down," he said, walking towards Antimony and reaching out to touch her shoulder. "You don't look to be doing well. Let's take a few seconds and steady ourselves, hm?"
Calm. The only way she could find calm, find peace, was to /run/. Her body swayed to one side as though to fulfill that need, but Megiddo's touch on her shoulder lodged her feet to the ground. She recalled suddenly that numb, empty realization she'd had in the dunes, that acknowledgement that she could throw herself to the sands and let them do with her what they will. She wondered if the ice and snow of the north would be as forgiving.
But she had told K'ile she would live.
Letting out a faint, dizzy moan, Antimony's shoulders shuddered. "You can't kill them," she whispered. "You can't kill her... they're family."
"As if you're not killing them right now," Megiddo hissed with an uncharacteristic bite. Then he took a breath and said more calmly, "That's what family does when things go sideways. The first people we turn on are blood. Some families are just more honest about it than others."
"That's not true," she protested dully. She thought of the first time she had lost, then. The first time things had "gone sideways". Her mind skirted around it, terrified of the memories even now, of nightmares older than the fire but no less sickening. Nothing would have gotten her through that except... "They will take care of each other. Without... I just can't--can't stay. You don't have to kill anyone."
Letting his hand slip off Antimony's shoulder, the Duskwight paced behind her, lumbering counterclockwise and staring at her head. "Your condemnation is not surprising, Antimony, nor is the hypocrisy. You're of two minds on this, maybe more. Which do I listen to?"
She didn't bother trying to keep him in her vision, just let her head pull down on her neck, her ears hanging low to either side of her skull. The stone of the wall felt like ice on her palm. "You're wrong. It is wrong," she muttered, blinking past the burning ache in her eyes. The frames of her glasses hung awkwardly on her face at this angle. "It's better... better to simply leave than to... to kill anyone."
"Nowhere is far enough," Megiddo said. "Didn't you learn that from my Granddaughter?"
"I don't understand!" The words burst from her throat viciously. "How you could kill them! Only a monster destroys their own family!"
"Loughree murdered my grandson, and her father," the elderly Elezen reported as he continued to pace. "Did she seem a monster to you? People use their families to advance their goals. If they cannot cooperate, they must compete. It is natural. There is a monster inside all of us."
"Why are you saying these things," Antimony whispered. "I won't let you kill any of them. It's not... that's not what I want. I just need to..." Go. She needed to go. Everything Megiddo said here was wrong, and she could sense the fire approaching, hear the echoes of their screams. She felt herself push away from the wall and then swayed on her feet directionless.
"That is your choice. I will respect it. After all," Megiddo stopped, breathed, "I had wanted to give such ways up myself long ago. If my Granddaughter had not done such terrible things, I would forget and endure. Perhaps I still can. Forgiveness cannot be so hard."
There was a weight in her legs as though they were wrought of iron, dragging on each step she tried to take. One to the left, but there was the wall, to the right but then... "You still can," she spoke quietly, tail curling low against her legs. "You can... there is a far enough. There must be."
Megiddo came up alongside Antimony and let his ancient face drop to her eyes level, looking sideways at her with a grandfatherly smile. "Did she mention to you, by the way, anything that is precious to her? If I am to convince her to forgive me, I must know what her soft spot is."
Megiddo's craggy features in view once more, Antimony wasn't sure who to believe - or perhaps both of them spoke the truth? She shuddered, tucked her ears further against her skull as her hands shook against the coat in her arms. "... No." She thought of Loughree's fear, the anger Antimony recognized keenly as the other spoke of those she was responsible for. Children. Her stomach churned.
"Ah, that is fine, then. Perhaps it's best to keep things between she and I for now." He stood away from Antimony, nearly double the woman's height, smiling. He said, "What are you going to do?"
She tightened her grip on the coat until she was practically hugging herself. "You won't..." She couldn't trust that he wouldn't, she realized, and thought then to warn Loughree, but of course that would do no good. The woman already knew who was after her, and Antimony had no means of stopping him. With this acknowledgment, the panic she had been battling earlier seemed to surge forward anew, breathing a dizzy energy into her exhausted limbs. "I need to go."
"Yes, let's not delay," the old man said cheerfully. "I think I'll have a bit of faith in family for a change and go pay a visit to my granddaughter right away. I don't think she's slept in a few days and she should be on duty about now. I bet she would like to rest." His great form turned away, leading with his rickety shoulders, to walk out of the alley.
Chilling realization clenched around her heart. Antimony spun then, eyes wide with sudden fear from his words and cried out, "Wait!" She lurched forward, reached out to grab for his clothing, dropping the coat in the process. "You can't. Don't--do not kill her, please!"
"You must not think very highly of me," the old man muttered, though mostly to himself, and then stopped to turn to Antimony, "Oh, another thing before we part! You should not fear Illira. The primary reason you got hired by the Agency is because I put in a good word for you with Ildur. And I've been working with the old man far longer than Illira has. I have more clout than her, I think."
Antimony blinked, craned her neck to look up at the Duskwight. Her hand shook in his dirty clothes. "I... I don't fear her. I just..." need to go, her thoughts finished, the words begging, hammering in her skull. It was all she could think of, nearly drowning out the implications of Megiddo's own words on his employment. Dimly, she wondered how he had known all these things he’d spoken of.
The old man said nothing to that, just watching Antimony's face passively.
Forcibly, she released her grip on his clothes, the joints in her fingers moving with an aged reluctance, as though rusted over. Or charred to useless nubs. Antimony shivered and took a step back, one foot brushing against the coat she'd dropped. Mitari's gift.
North would be far enough, right?
She found she could say nothing else to Megiddo, only watching him back, her arms limp at her sides while her tail twisted in confusion and distress.
With a strange, shrugging motion, Megiddo slipped from Antimony's grip as though she'd been trying to hold water, and began to walk away at his slow pace, his thin limbs seeming reluctant to move at all. "Good luck, whatever you do, Antimony."
Antimony stood very still as Megiddo drifted away, and for a time longer after he disappeared, seemingly once more becoming one with the walls of the city. She didn't move, despite the fear clawing at the edges of her vision, the scents that spurred on memories that spurred on grief and loss. Then finally, as though struck by lightning, her body jerked backwards, then bent to gather up the coat.
North. She needed to go north. The cold might hold the fire at bay.
***
An Ul'dahn morning was hardly different from an Ul'dahn night or afternoon. The air was still oppressively thick with the smells of the destitute and the ill, and the walls trapped an unhealthy heat even this early in the day. The mess of it confused Antimony's already strained and exhausted senses, and her mind gave up trying to make sense of her direction for a time. She could still catch the lingering scents of K'ile and K'luha in her nose, could still hear their voices, mingling with Illira's and, more dangerously, others from years ago, and her feet could not stop until they left her at peace. Until the screams and flames faded once more.
Limsa had not been far enough.
An hour passed until she slowed to rest one hand against the shaded wall of a quiet alley. The coat she still clutched close to herself, the fur of its collar tickling her neck and chin. Her eyes were swollen and itchy and she could feel a dry stiffness upon her cheeks, though she couldn't remember crying. She had told herself she wouldn't cry.
There in the alley, Antimony paused in her flight to catch her breath and hoped that her thoughts would not catch up to her in the meantime.
No matter how fast her thoughts were, something else caught up to Antimony first. Or it had been there waiting, as if it knew where she would run. One way or another, something brown and thin stirred in the deep shadows along the wall not even a meter away from where Antimony stood. To say it stirred was to overstate the movement. It shifted. It mildly swayed. The same amount of movement one might get out of a large tree by brushing it with a reluctant breath, the thin brown form moved its face.
It's voice was a whisper in the voice of a stone, "I understand."
The words rolled through her like a frigid, stormy wind, and her ears pressed back flat against her head as her eyes darted up towards its source. It took several moments to discern the blue-grey-brown from the rest of the early morning shadows, but when she did, she could not help the shiver in her tail, nor the way her arm curled a bit tighter around the coat.
He killed my mom. Was that true?
"What--" She breathed out, shuddered, found herself split painfully across three divergent fears. Too much. "Understand... what?"
The form lurched forward, leading with its shoulders and then swaying as the head and neck snapped into place. It stepped out of the shadows, light falling on the Duskwight's greasy heair, but leaving his face obscured. Dark lines settled into every crag of his face, left his eye sockets black pits from which silver eyes only faintly shone.
There was no expression in those eyes, and the words were coolly informative. "I understand why I could not kill you in the Shroud, despite my many, many chances. I recognize your torment."
"You recognize...?" The lurching of the Duskwight's form seemed more ominous, more threatening than it had in a while, though neither his appearance, or really his behavior had changed. It was almost enough to cut through the hurried panic, the desperation that had driven her steps away from people she knew held nothing against her, nor did she them. But that fire...
"There is nothing to recognize," she uttered faintly, sagging somewhat against the wall. "I am fine." She would be. Just like before. She only needed to get away, far away. Just like before.
"My family was immense," the Duskwight said. "Besides my brothers and sisters, nephews and neices, I had several children of my own. And granchildren, and more, and all of them are gone now. Except the one."
Something twisted in her chest, something writhing and burning. She closed her eyes against it for a moment before dragging her eyes back up, brow creased heavily in confusion as she demanded, voice shaking, "Then why would you try to kill her??"
With a sly, slow smile, Megiddo Desfosse said, "You know why. We feel the same pain, don't we? To answer your question, just ask yourself what you're running away from."
"I could never hurt them! Don't you--don't you suggest--!" Her tail lashed wildly behind her, and that stinging had returned to her eyes, though nothing fell. Her hand curled into a tense claw about the coat. He could not know! How dare he presume and judge, when he'd done such horrible... He couldn't-- "I didn't kill them! I couldn't--I just couldn't stay! I... can't stay..."
"You're far too gentle," Megiddo said, pacing out of the shadows and speaking patiently. "But I saw how they victimized you. Only family can do such a thing. Now one is disabled and the other clueless. if you'd like, I can make it so they'll never. Follow you. Again." With a small chuckle, "It wouldn't hurt, of course."
Nausea dragged on her gut, distorted the walls of the alley until all she could see was the impossibly tall shadow looming before her. Her head dipped at the sensation, but still she could see Megiddo's form, in her mind now a jagged silhouette cut into the flames that bore down with their endless hunt. They would never... "No one has victimized me!" she protested, voice shaking. "Not them--it's not... it's not their fault! They couldn't save... I couldn't stop them. I will not do what you've done!"
"Now let's calm down," he said, walking towards Antimony and reaching out to touch her shoulder. "You don't look to be doing well. Let's take a few seconds and steady ourselves, hm?"
Calm. The only way she could find calm, find peace, was to /run/. Her body swayed to one side as though to fulfill that need, but Megiddo's touch on her shoulder lodged her feet to the ground. She recalled suddenly that numb, empty realization she'd had in the dunes, that acknowledgement that she could throw herself to the sands and let them do with her what they will. She wondered if the ice and snow of the north would be as forgiving.
But she had told K'ile she would live.
Letting out a faint, dizzy moan, Antimony's shoulders shuddered. "You can't kill them," she whispered. "You can't kill her... they're family."
"As if you're not killing them right now," Megiddo hissed with an uncharacteristic bite. Then he took a breath and said more calmly, "That's what family does when things go sideways. The first people we turn on are blood. Some families are just more honest about it than others."
"That's not true," she protested dully. She thought of the first time she had lost, then. The first time things had "gone sideways". Her mind skirted around it, terrified of the memories even now, of nightmares older than the fire but no less sickening. Nothing would have gotten her through that except... "They will take care of each other. Without... I just can't--can't stay. You don't have to kill anyone."
Letting his hand slip off Antimony's shoulder, the Duskwight paced behind her, lumbering counterclockwise and staring at her head. "Your condemnation is not surprising, Antimony, nor is the hypocrisy. You're of two minds on this, maybe more. Which do I listen to?"
She didn't bother trying to keep him in her vision, just let her head pull down on her neck, her ears hanging low to either side of her skull. The stone of the wall felt like ice on her palm. "You're wrong. It is wrong," she muttered, blinking past the burning ache in her eyes. The frames of her glasses hung awkwardly on her face at this angle. "It's better... better to simply leave than to... to kill anyone."
"Nowhere is far enough," Megiddo said. "Didn't you learn that from my Granddaughter?"
"I don't understand!" The words burst from her throat viciously. "How you could kill them! Only a monster destroys their own family!"
"Loughree murdered my grandson, and her father," the elderly Elezen reported as he continued to pace. "Did she seem a monster to you? People use their families to advance their goals. If they cannot cooperate, they must compete. It is natural. There is a monster inside all of us."
"Why are you saying these things," Antimony whispered. "I won't let you kill any of them. It's not... that's not what I want. I just need to..." Go. She needed to go. Everything Megiddo said here was wrong, and she could sense the fire approaching, hear the echoes of their screams. She felt herself push away from the wall and then swayed on her feet directionless.
"That is your choice. I will respect it. After all," Megiddo stopped, breathed, "I had wanted to give such ways up myself long ago. If my Granddaughter had not done such terrible things, I would forget and endure. Perhaps I still can. Forgiveness cannot be so hard."
There was a weight in her legs as though they were wrought of iron, dragging on each step she tried to take. One to the left, but there was the wall, to the right but then... "You still can," she spoke quietly, tail curling low against her legs. "You can... there is a far enough. There must be."
Megiddo came up alongside Antimony and let his ancient face drop to her eyes level, looking sideways at her with a grandfatherly smile. "Did she mention to you, by the way, anything that is precious to her? If I am to convince her to forgive me, I must know what her soft spot is."
Megiddo's craggy features in view once more, Antimony wasn't sure who to believe - or perhaps both of them spoke the truth? She shuddered, tucked her ears further against her skull as her hands shook against the coat in her arms. "... No." She thought of Loughree's fear, the anger Antimony recognized keenly as the other spoke of those she was responsible for. Children. Her stomach churned.
"Ah, that is fine, then. Perhaps it's best to keep things between she and I for now." He stood away from Antimony, nearly double the woman's height, smiling. He said, "What are you going to do?"
She tightened her grip on the coat until she was practically hugging herself. "You won't..." She couldn't trust that he wouldn't, she realized, and thought then to warn Loughree, but of course that would do no good. The woman already knew who was after her, and Antimony had no means of stopping him. With this acknowledgment, the panic she had been battling earlier seemed to surge forward anew, breathing a dizzy energy into her exhausted limbs. "I need to go."
"Yes, let's not delay," the old man said cheerfully. "I think I'll have a bit of faith in family for a change and go pay a visit to my granddaughter right away. I don't think she's slept in a few days and she should be on duty about now. I bet she would like to rest." His great form turned away, leading with his rickety shoulders, to walk out of the alley.
Chilling realization clenched around her heart. Antimony spun then, eyes wide with sudden fear from his words and cried out, "Wait!" She lurched forward, reached out to grab for his clothing, dropping the coat in the process. "You can't. Don't--do not kill her, please!"
"You must not think very highly of me," the old man muttered, though mostly to himself, and then stopped to turn to Antimony, "Oh, another thing before we part! You should not fear Illira. The primary reason you got hired by the Agency is because I put in a good word for you with Ildur. And I've been working with the old man far longer than Illira has. I have more clout than her, I think."
Antimony blinked, craned her neck to look up at the Duskwight. Her hand shook in his dirty clothes. "I... I don't fear her. I just..." need to go, her thoughts finished, the words begging, hammering in her skull. It was all she could think of, nearly drowning out the implications of Megiddo's own words on his employment. Dimly, she wondered how he had known all these things he’d spoken of.
The old man said nothing to that, just watching Antimony's face passively.
Forcibly, she released her grip on his clothes, the joints in her fingers moving with an aged reluctance, as though rusted over. Or charred to useless nubs. Antimony shivered and took a step back, one foot brushing against the coat she'd dropped. Mitari's gift.
North would be far enough, right?
She found she could say nothing else to Megiddo, only watching him back, her arms limp at her sides while her tail twisted in confusion and distress.
With a strange, shrugging motion, Megiddo slipped from Antimony's grip as though she'd been trying to hold water, and began to walk away at his slow pace, his thin limbs seeming reluctant to move at all. "Good luck, whatever you do, Antimony."
Antimony stood very still as Megiddo drifted away, and for a time longer after he disappeared, seemingly once more becoming one with the walls of the city. She didn't move, despite the fear clawing at the edges of her vision, the scents that spurred on memories that spurred on grief and loss. Then finally, as though struck by lightning, her body jerked backwards, then bent to gather up the coat.
North. She needed to go north. The cold might hold the fire at bay.
![[Image: AntiThalSig.png]](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/179079766/AntiThalSig.png)
"Song dogs barking at the break of dawn, lightning pushes the edges of a thunderstorm; and these streets, quiet as a sleeping army, send their battered dreams to heaven."
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