Through Ruin Or Redemption【Closed】

[Nero]

Constantin Theron squinted against the candle light, cursing the scribes for having made the text so small as the Hyur adjusted the spectacles on the bridge of his nose. An idle wave of his hand, and his Elezen manservant dutifully took the sheet of parchment from his desk and replaced it with another page, leading Constantin to squint once more, a slightly crooked finger tracing the text.

 

Since their inception, the House of Lords and the House of Commons had been relentless in their conflict. New proposals--usually brought up by the House of Commons--were being drafted with every meeting, forcing a debate wherein the House of Lords would deny said proposal. The shouting would continue back and forth until the Lord Speaker was forced to moderate, and either some kind of lukewarm compromise would be met or recess would be called with no progress made.

 

A female Elezen servant entered with a short bow. "Lord Valencourt has arrived and requests an audience," she said tersely.

 

Constantin glanced over his shoulder at her in mild irritation, waving his hand. "Lord Valencourt will enter whether I wish to see him or not." As if on cue, Maximilian brusquely entered the room, shouldering his way past the servant. "Speak of the fiend, and he will appear," the Hyur muttered beneath his breath. Constantin made a gesture out of the door, and the two servants bowed and swiftly left the room, shutting the door behind them.

 

"It's never a good sign whenever you have to enter my house. At least be quiet; Leila and Astidien are sleeping." Constantin continued attempting to trace the unfeasibly small line of text on the document.

 

"I am here to discuss our mutual friend," Maximilien said, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. The dragoon's countenance was stern, with the heavy implication that he was approaching this issue with equal parts impatience and frustration. "More to the point, I want to know what he is doing."

 

Constantin snorted. "You have known that shady type far longer than I have, my lord Valencourt."

 

"But you have been involved in his dealings of intrigue, yes?"

 

"Not as of late," the Hyur sighed, adjusting his spectacles again. "I have been thoroughly occupied with the bickering of the Houses. Commoners want this, lords deny that. The status of my house is what concerns me just behind the welfare of my children, and the Marquis has made it emphatically clear that any improvements in that sector will occur as coincidence, not as a deliberate result."

 

Maximilien shook his head. "What was the last thing you did for him?"

 

"Why do you ask?" Constantin turned his gaze to study the Elezen's face, his eyes squinting further.

 

"Because I need some kind of guarantee," Maximilien grunted. "I have good standing with the Count de Durendaire. I am willing to put in a good word for the Therons if you supply me with information on the Marquis."

 

"That is uncharacteristically conniving of you," Constantin muttered, turning away again. "And the esteem of the High Houses means little, least of all Durendaire, as you should know. The war is over and the dragons are no longer our foes, which means all of that pretty gil that Durendaire invested in their dragoons and the Order has fluttered off." The Hyur sniffed ruefully. "The High Houses have no need of bannermen, not any more, as you should well know."

 

Maximilien's hands curled into fists as he unfolded and refolded his arms, his knuckles turning white from his vice grip. "You need not speak of the repercussions of this peace to me," he seethed, scowling. "But you must know something. You only play the part of the doddering fool chasing after his children, Lord Theron. The Marquis asked you for something."

 

Another sigh escaped the Hyur's lips. "The Marquis has only asked that an ear be kept on the House of Lords. The Commons he couldn't care less about. Ishgard as a democracy is fifty times easier to manipulate than it ever was under the machinations of the Holy See, so I suspect that anything underhanded occurring is being carried out by the Marquis himself. Before that..." Constantin frowned. Well, there was no reason to hide things any more, was there? "Before that, the Marquis wanted the lords riled up about the Lord Commander--or is it Lord Speaker now? Pin the disappearance of the Archbishop on him as patricide. I may have dropped an encouraging word here or there, but risked nothing else so long as the situation was as volatile as it was." Constantin set down the sheet of parchment on his desk. "Why, what did he ask you to do?"

 

Maximilien frowned. "Just recently, he had me kill some Au Ra and appropriate him of his rock. You are certain that the Marquis tried to have the nobility oppose the Lord Commander?"

 

Now it was Constantin's turn to frown. "As certain as I can be. What lead you to this, anyway?"

 

Maximilien began to pace. "This peace is not good. It is not good for Ishgard, and it is certainly not good for me. The Order is dwindling, and with no dragons to fight, we are meaningless. The Marquis made me certain guarantees. I need leverage in case those guarantees turn out to be false."

 

Constantin snorted. "Times are changing, Lord Valencourt. Resisting the flow may only drown you faster."

 

Maximilien, apparently having arbitrarily decided that the conversation would lead nowhere useful, opened the door to the Theron study but paused at Constantin's latest remark. "I would rather burn than follow that course," he murmured before leaving.

[Roen]

This was not the Ishgard Roen knew.

 

Roen sat by a small table set upon the porch, her fingers wrapped around the warmth of a steaming cup of tea. Her gaze remained on the young girl dressed in light leather armor practicing with her sword and shield in the courtyard. She noted that Leila’s posture with her weapons had gained a better balance and she now swung with improved dexterity and strength. The noble girl spun and struck around the wooden dummy, and her fierce expression seemed determined in her opponent’s utter defeat.

 

But the paladin’s thoughts did not stay in the courtyard for long. Ever since her return to Ishgard only a few suns past, she had been hit with one surprise after another. She had returned in the cover of night to escape notice, for she still did not know who was looking for either her or Khadai before they had left. But a discreet inquiry with Gibrillont at the Forgotten Knight revealed that since their departure, none had come looking for either of them.

 

It might have had something to do with the battle with Nidhogg at the Steps of Faith and the complete overhaul of the Ishgardian governing body in the recent moons.

 

The fact that the Thousand Year War came to a climactic end while she and Khadai had ventured out to Dravania was something that she was still trying to wrap her head around. In the past year and a half that she had spent in Coerthas acclimating to their rigid and unforgiving culture, never once did it occur to her that such a sweeping change was even possible. It made her nearly nostalgic at the news. The theocracy was no more, replaced by a bicameral government that seemed to give equal voice to both the wealthy and the poor. Most Dravanians were no longer considered enemies of the state, and the zealous hunt for heretics were almost considered obsolete. It seemed that the Church had been removed from its throne of power and the Inquisition had lost its fangs.

 

Or so it seemed.

 

The Church and the Inquisition were the first organizations that Roen approached upon her return, for she believed that the answers she sought were to be discovered there. Instead, the paladin was met with tight-lipped clergy members and more than a few looks of disapproval when she inquired about the activity of a particular Inquisitor over a year ago. None wanted to cooperate with an outsider, Eorzean Alliance be damned. The Inquisition appeared as exclusive a group as ever, and it became obvious that she would gain no assistance in her quest here.

 

Roen also returned to the House of Theron and was grateful that Lord Theron accepted her back into his employ after her prolonged absence. He showed quiet patience, and since she had given him notice before her departure, accepted her return without question. Roen suspected that the man was far too busy with the minutiae of Ishgardian politics that he did not give her situation too much thought. And the fact that both his children favored her... she reasoned that he simply gave them back the tutor that they wanted.

 

It was Astidien that brought her the letter that was sent many moons ago by her former Captain, Idristan Tournes. Roen had not heard the news of his arrest until she read it, and her dismay was quickly replaced by indignation in learning the details of his trial and imprisonment. The Elezen knight-captain had always been a fair and faithful servant to Ishgard, and one of those rare men who did not look upon outsiders with inherent contempt. The facts of his trial were a matter of public record, and it was clear that suspicion was brought upon him for the fact that on the same night that he had allowed an Au Ra to enter Dragonhead, a surprise attack of Dravanians had occurred. It did not matter that Khadai had taken part in defending the keep; the Inquisition still arrested the knight and all the soldiers that served beneath him.

 

Such was the ruthless authority that the Inquisition had been capable of. Roen could not help but relish in a small amount of satisfaction, knowing that they no longer wield such power.

 

But even with much of Ishgard government changed, it still did not change the fact that one member of Khadai’s tribe had still been murdered fairly recently, in what seemed like a ritual killing. And she had first come upon this act over a year ago. If everyone was busy fighting Nidhogg’s brood and repairing what was left of Ishgard, then who were still hunting down the Au Ra? And why?

 

Were there those that even now still clung to the beliefs that the Au Ra shared ancestry with the Dravanians? It was certainly no longer a popular belief. Even hunting down heretics was no longer a commonplace. But was it possible that beliefs and animosity held for generations could not be dismissed so easily and quickly?

 

The paladin sighed. The city-state as a whole was taking steps to remake itself, but the people within, the culture itself, and the long ingrained beliefs, they would be slower to transform.

 

So it was still Ishgard she was dealing with, only without the constant threat of being thrown off of Witchdrop at a mere suspicion of heresy. That alone at least made things a little easier, she mused wryly.

 

The sound of heavy books laid upon the table brought her attention back to the present as an Elezen youth pulled up a chair next to her. It was her pupil, Astidien, the proper one that was supposed to be practicing swordplay. But neither the siblings seemed to mind and neither did the paladin.

 

“Here are the parchment and ink you requested, Miss Deneith.” Astidien scooted a stack of leather bound parchments, quill, and ink her way. His inquisitive eyes peered up at her just long enough for Roen to look at him twice.

 

“If you have a question, ask.” Roen’s voice remained soft, even as she opened up the leather bindings, withdrawing one parchment.

 

“Did Ser Tournes relay anything of import in his letter?” Astidien sat straight in his seat, folding his hands upon his lap. His question was quietly spoken, and Roen knew enough about the gentle boy to know he had more to say on the matter. He had already been helpful in informing her of all that had happened.

 

“I would say everything in the letter was significant, since I knew none of what had passed.” Roen exhaled with a frown. Her gaze strayed to the folded missive that was on the table, partially hidden beneath the tray that held the tea set.

 

“Father was displeased at what happened as well.” Astidien seemed to already perceive her disapproval. When Roen glanced at the youth, he gave her his best beaming smile and leaned forward. “But he is free now and was proven innocent, rightfully so. And our nation has set forth on a new path. Surely that must ease your mind somewhat, Miss Deneith?”

 

Roen curled a small smile; the young Elezen’s optimism would not be denied. She nodded once. “I am happy for what has happened to your city-state. I truly am. There was a man I once knew that would have liked to see something similar happen in his own homeland.” She dismissed the wistful pang, her expression turning stern. “But there are still others being hunted down wrongly, and I aim to put a stop to it.”

 

She dipped the end of the quill into the bottle of ink and started penning her first letter.

 

Astidien scrunched his face thoughtfully before he spoke again. “There are still plenty that do not see the good in what has happened,” he murmured. “My father has many friends, including an honored dragoon. I know Ser Valencourt is unhappy as well.”

 

The paladin paused in her writing, her grey eyes glancing at the Elezen. “I know of whom you speak. How do you know he was unhappy?”

 

The youth shrugged his small shoulders, looking sheepish. “Father thought I was asleep, but sometimes I like to read in the study when the house is quiet. I saw Ser Valencourt visit father late into the evening and leave in a manner that was not of a content man.”

 

Roen chewed her lower lip in thought, then continued on penning the letter. She had to ask more questions, of Ser Tournes and others. She would seek out her allies, those she trusted first. But she had to look farther and deeper this time.

 

Perhaps she needed add a certain dragoon to that list of people to seek out as well.

[Nero]

Ishgard was still too risky, but Falcon's Nest was far away enough and Kasrjin was enough of a familiar face from his hunts that the area was relatively safe for now. The Xaela breathed, resting underneath a makeshift tent he had pitched beneath some cliffs some distance away from the outpost. A small campfire and some broth bubbled next to him, as Kasrjin stared at the keystone in his hands while considering the information.

 

Inquiries at the Falcon's Nest indicated that no one had seen an Au Ra matching Kaizhan's description in the past fortnight or so, save for one of the travelling sutlers having sold provisions almost a moon ago. Assuming that that information was true--and suspicious as Kasrjin was, the sutler had no apparent reason to lie--it set things in an important time frame. Kaizhan had arrived to Coerthas sooner than Kasrjin, which was not a wholly unusual circumstance given the latter's poor grasp of directions and navigation.

 

He picked up a small metal tin and scooped some of the broth from the stone bowl, sipping the hot liquid gingerly as Kasrjin studied the map of the Highlands that Roen had given him. Assuming that the ones who killed Kaizhan took no other objects from his body, the limited amount of rations that Kasrjin found on his compatriot's corpse indicated that Kaizhan had not resupplied in some time, and thus it stood to reason that Kaizhan was returning from his destination.

 

However, while this made some things certain, it only made the other questions more dire. What was Kaizhan carrying? Who had taken it from him, and how had they known that he possessed it? How had they found him, and perhaps most importantly...was Kasrjin's mission complete without that object, or did this keystone require another piece to function as intended?

 

As time passed, the chatter at the Falcon's Nest had inevitably reached the Xaela's horns: the Dragonsong War was over, and Ishgard was now at peace. Perhaps it was safe to return to Ishgard...perhaps. Kasrjin had spent the last few suns watching the Highlands intently for any suspicious activity, but when no knights nor war party revealed themselves, he began to pack his makeshift camp.

 

What he was looking for would be in Ishgard.

[Nero]

"No place for patricide!"

 

It was an effective rallying cry: short, easy to remember, punchy alliteration, politically friendly, and just scathing enough for a mob. Kasrjin was careful to skirt the outside of the crowd that had gathered in front of the Vault; armoured members of the Temple Knights were deployed at the foot of the steps armed with shields, but no weapons.

 

This was an...uprising, of some sort? Clearly not the armed sort, but it wasn't a demonstration that Kasrjin understood, either. If this was a civil dispute, then there was no reason not to open some kind of dialogue. And if this was a military dispute, well, swords would be useful.

 

The assembled crowd was small; at most, it was thirty or forty people. "No place for patricide!" A Hyur at the front of the crowd shouted, raising his fist as his followers behind him followed suit. A stiff wooden plaque had the phrase "BOREL THE BASTARD" carved into it. Clearly, not all was well. The chatter and rumours had been all the same, and even the intimidating Xaela could not help but catch wind of the peace that befell Ishgard. The nobles and the commoners had ostensibly joined together to rule the city, and that clearly provoked what disgruntled populace remained.

 

"The Temple Knights let scalekin ravage our city time and time again! And they repay our faith by ruining our city and expecting us to turn belly-up at the beasts!" The Hyur leader shouted again.

 

The Au Ra sighed, glancing his head around the corner. Loitering in the market wasn't overly conspicuous, but it was not as if he could stay forever, especially because the crowd blocked the only way he knew to get back to the lower levels of Ishgard. The rhetoric was simple enough to understand, however. The problem, then, was to discover if this crowd had any connections to those who might have killed Kaizhan. Assuming ignorance, anti-dragon sentiment could easily manifest as anti-Au Ra...but Kasrjin was not willing to risk himself to the hands of an ignorant mob.

 

A finger pressed against the linkpearl. Roen should be back in the city, and she would know how best to approach this.

[Roen]

Roen paced back and forth.

 

Sebastian, the grey pup that always seemed to have a keen eye for people’s moods, trotted alongside her, his black eyes watching her worriedly. A frown had been her constant companion since she had returned to the Theron manor, and she was thankful that her wards had stepped out for a bit of shopping in the Jeweled Crozier. Her mind was too preoccupied with all that she had learned, that she could not sit from the restlessness and the agitation of it all.

 

“The one you are seeking are called The Redeemers. And they seek to eradicate the dragon’s influence from all our bloodlines.”

 

The confessions of the dragoon, Maximillien Valencourt, still rang through her mind like a church bell echoing through the midday. Surprisingly, he was one of the first to answer her missives; Ser Tournes was still across the realm in the Sea of Clouds, and Roen had yet to pay a visit to Ser Heuloix and Lady Dufresne. And even with his written acceptance of her request for a meeting, Roen had arrived at the Valencourt estate with some measure of apprehension. The last time she had met the dragoon, the Elezen was full of confidence and charm, but it was clear to her that his own ambitions were paramount in his eyes. Would he answer her inquiries about possible conspiracies that were glossed over by most authorities in Ishgard, because it largely targeted outsiders?

 

The answer she received was far more than she could have ever imagined.

 

Upon receiving her in his library, Ser Valencourt retained the gregariousness that Roen had remembered. But as their conversation continued, she noticed a sharper edge to his demeanor. His smile did not quite reach his eyes, and where his confidence used to be smooth and polished, there was a dullness this time; as if a shadow of disquiet had stained the underside of an otherwise clean glass.

 

But even more unexpected than that, was what he was willing to share with her. When she questioned him again about the Au Ra killings, the Elezen gave her a vastly different answer than the one he had on the hillside of Western Coerthas.

 

“The Au Ra killings were nothing more than the Redeemer’s zealots needing an outlet for their frustrations.” Maximillien said with a dismissive wave. “The Court decided that cultivating such fervor was useful.”

 

“The Court…?” was all Roen managed to ask in her bewilderment. He had answered her bluntly and forthrightly; she did not know where to start.

 

“...ah, that’s right. You would not have heard of them.” the Elezen said, bowing his head with a patient expression, noting her confusion. “According to their claims, the Redeemers trace their bloodlines to the individuals they refer to as the ‘wayward triune’...that is, the three knights excepting Haldrath that survived the first battle with Nidhogg, and chose not to partake in the founding of the High Houses. These three knights grew remorseful of their betrayal of dragonkind, and felt disgust towards their kin for their consumption of the dragon’s eyes, and so the three conspired to purge their fellows and all of their descendents of their ill-gotten power.”

 

The dragoon’s eyes narrowed slightly. “As for how much of that is true, well...it is impossible to say. Were they always privy to the true nature of King Thordan and Ratatoskr, or is this merely a new fabrication made to adapt to the revelations passed forward by Ser Aymeric? Perhaps we may never know. Nevertheless, the wayward triune’s self-proclaimed descendents control the Redeemers, and they call themselves ‘the Court’, styling themselves as marquises and marquis so as to place themselves as above the Counts of Ishgard.” Maximilien leaned backwards. “Of course, they keep their identities safely hidden through a combination of subterfuge, deception, and hideous facial accessories.”

 

Roen blinked. As Ser Valencourt recounted the Redeemers’ history, there was no effort to villainize their origin. The founders were fervently religious and followed the teachings of Saint Reinette, who after killing a dragon in the name of vengeance, shed the cerements of war, dedicating her life to servitude. But as time passed, the Redeemers did not quite follow the same unselfish course.

 

“There was an Inquisitor that...recited a prayer to Saint Reinette,” Roen recalled. “Those same words were also engraved upon the wooden stakes where the murders occurred.”

 

“There is more than one Inquisitor that serves the organization,” the Elezen answered casually. “It is one of their most common ways to recruit. They either falsely accuse people of heresy or comb through those that are arrested. They specifically look for those possessing marked animosity towards the Dravanians, the Holy See, or both. And once driven to a zealous fervor, it is easy to mark the draconic appearances of the Au Ra, as the enemy.”

 

“I see how their campaign against the dragonkind would have been easy to recruit for during the war, but now Ishgard has negotiated for peace.” Roen narrowed her eyes, regarding the Elezen. “Is not their cause all but lost?”

 

Maximillien lowered his gaze, running one hand through his hair. “Their recent activities suggest that the Court is in disarray. Aye, their original goal was to propagate complete destruction of the dragons for the sake of peace. Logically speaking, it is the only option; the Dravanians are immortal and thus hold immortal grudges. Such short-lived spoken as ourselves would ordinarily have no chance of making peace with such hateful creatures. And yet peace has come, so they have turned their efforts to ridding Ishgard of the dragon blood in its heritage and the memories of the Dragonsong War. To remove the responsibility of the war altogether. As long as the history exists in our minds and the blood runs in our veins, forever are we entwined with the dragons.” He cleared his throat. “Or so they believe.”

 

Her eyes widened. “Is that even possible?”

 

The Elezen crossed his arms, lazily leaning back against one of the towering bookshelves. “The Court has accumulated much knowledge over the years. They have stolen tomes from Sharlayan, and obtained some pieces of relics from Allagan ruins from the Second Astral Era, especially when the formation of magic was new. One of the old civilizations they focused on was based on fervent faith and prayer, and as their magic had yet to be refined, they used extremely dangerous mind-altering rituals used to control their followers and secure their absolute faith and obedience. The Court, I believe, plans to replicate one of these rituals to purify and absolve -- that is to remove the influence of any non-Spoken blood, and remove the memory of the Dragonsong War from all.”

 

Roen’s mind spun. There were too many possibilities, but some were beginning to form tenuous threads with each other. “There was an Au Ra that was killed recently," she said. "He possibly had an old relic that was stolen from him…a keystone.” It was a term that Khadai had given the item that they had retrieved. “It is for another old civilization, and they too have the capacity to alter memories. Do you know something of it?”

 

Maximillien glanced elsewhere. “If you believe this ‘keystone’ to be one of the missing pieces they need, that would certainly explain why their zealots have gone suspiciously quiet.” He gave her a sidelong look, his expression grim.”Everything leads me to believe that they are moving forward as fast as possible now.”

 

“What have you done about all this?” Roen stepped forward, frowning deeply.

 

The Elezen threw both his hands in the air. “You may think it callous of me, but I have been investigating the Redeemers for some time now, suspecting them to be heretics. Neither the Inquisition nor the Temple Knights saw fit to indulge me in my claims, and so either the Redeemers have infiltrated both organisations or they are exceedingly skilled at hiding evidence.”

 

“Then why are you telling me all this?”

 

Maximillien exhaled through his nose, then tilted his head, smirking oddly. “You were the first person to ask, Miss Deneith.” He leaned in towards her. “You do not truly believe Ishgardians to care about a few dead foreigners, do you? Especially if those dead foreigners resemble the foes that have waged war against us for a thousand years. And you would not ask me about the Redeemers if you did not already suspect that their existence was reality.”

 

Roen narrowed her eyes at him. “So you are going to help me?”

 

“Alas, Miss Deneith, this is as far as I go.” The Elezen stepped back with a helpless shrug. “My hands are now tied with defending the borders against the remainder of Nidhogg’s brood.”

 

“With all that you know, you will do nothing?” She shot back, incredulous. “With this looming ritual, that could mean who knows what to the rest of your people?”

 

“A twist of irony, no?” The Elezen sighed. “For me to have come so far with this, and yet be unable to see all my efforts come to fruition.” He bowed deeply. “I beseech you to do what you can, Miss Deneith. I have given you much to go on.” He straightened then canted his head. “But there is one more offering I will provide.”

 

Roen crossed her arms, displeasure clear upon her visage. Maximillien only smiled at her in return.

 

“I will tell you where and when you may be able to find one of the Marquis.”

 

 

 

It was the sound of a soft whimper and a light pressure upon her right foot that brought Roen out of her reverie. She had ceased in her pacing as she was pondering her previous conversation, and in her stillness had apparently made Sebastian nervous. The puppy had one foot upon her leather boot, the other paw scratching at her shin as he whined for attention.

 

She let out a sigh as she bent down and lifted the creature into her arms. “I need to tell someone. This has to be stopped. But…who do I tell first? Who would believe it?” she sighed. When the puppy licked the tip of her nose with a happy wagging of his tail, she exhaled. “You have no idea, do you? Just like the rest of Ishgard.”

 

It was then that the linkpearl in her pouch vibrated, humming softly. Plucking it into her ear, Roen's eyes widened immediately.

 

“Khadai. You are here in the city?” She nearly sighed in relief. Indeed, he should know.

 

“I will meet you. There is much to discuss.”

[Nero]

Their rendezvous was swift, although Roen had entered the Pillars through a route circumventing the mob as an equally swift reminder that Kasrjin's sense of direction in this labyrinthine city was less than accurate. They were a safe distance away from the shouting protestors, and yet the indignant chants could be heard clearly from where they were standing.

 

Kasrjin's concerns about the riot melted away almost instantaneously in the wake of Roen's information. It made sense, then. Somehow, these Redeemers knew about the ancient peoples who had also constructed Karaad-El on Othard and how the keystone functioned...and more importantly, if the Xaela's inference was correct, then Kaizhan had succeeded in his mission but was murdered before he could return.

 

If Kaizhan had the keystone, and if the keystone truly required a second half to operate. There was simply no way to be certain, but operating under the assumption that he did was Kasrjin's only lead to finding the truth behind the death of his kin. "If what you say is true," he murmured, "then it is possible that they are responsible for this disruption as well. If their goal is marred by this peace, then they would do all they can to break the peace."

 

Instinctively, the Au Ra patted the secured bag on his waist that held the hemisphere of black obsidian. It would be safer elsewhere, but intuition told Kasrjin that he could not let the keystone off of his person for a second. Keeping it on him simply meant that there was no room for failure.

 

"Then this 'marquis'. We must acquire information from him. We know when and where to strike." Emerald eyes shimmered at the paladin in front of him with curiosity. The end was in sight.

[Roen]

Breathe. Just breathe.

 

Roen forced herself to slow down her breaths, inhaling and exhaling deliberately to calm her nerves. She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them to adjust the hilt of her sword. She was about to adjust her gauntlets when she realized she was fidgeting. And fidgeting while standing guard could be construed as unnatural behavior.

 

Blending into the surroundings in a wealthy district like the Pillars was not an easy task. And yet here she was, pretending to stand guard in front of an estate, as she kept watch on another building much further down the street. It was a small and an unassuming manor that Ser Valencourt had pointed out. This was where the Marquis would hold meetings, but only today. When the next opportunity would present itself, the dragoon did not know.

 

The fact that it was only two suns ago that Roen had discovered the information regarding the Redeermer’s very existence, she had woefully little time to prepare. Such was her dilemma in trying to plan what to do, when Khadai contacted her. The tale of the Redeemer’s ritual and the possibility that it involved the missing keystone, the Xaela warrior became determined to find the truth of it. He had no doubts that these people were the ones that were likely responsible for his kinsman’s death. And once that certainly had solidified in his mind, he would not be turned from setting upon one of the leaders of this occult group. Could she blame him? They were responsible for many murders against his own kind. But more importantly, at least for Khadai, they had something that his people desperately needed.

 

Still, it was because of what these people were capable of, that Roen advised caution. Or more preparation at least. But Khadai would not hear it. Even as she spoke of trying to muster up reinforcement in some legal way, he began preparations to strike against the Marquis.

 

“The Court has many of its own members within the Order of the Temple Knights and the Church,” Roen recalled Ser Valencourt’s warning clearly. He had cautioned that if she was planning on moving against the Marquis, that her failure would result in extreme scrutiny.

 

That was what made her hesitate on insisting to Khadai that she seek out others for counsel before setting upon this meeting place. She could not risk implicating others in a crime if things were to go wrong. If what Ser Valencourt said was true, The Court wielded much influence behind the scenes. Although Roen did not believe everything that the Elezen had said, especially when it came to the reasons why he suddenly could not aid her when he had already investigated the group so thoroughly, she did see certain apprehension mixed with distaste in his eyes when he spoke about The Court. She did take him at his word in their capabilities.

 

So perhaps there was some wisdom in trying to isolate and question a Marquis on their own when given the chance. Khadai and she were both outsiders with no true ties to Ishgard. No others needed to be put at risk. And if they did gather some valuable information, perhaps then she could bring that to others who would have more sway within Ishgard’s new government to put a stop to all this.

 

And as if in cue, two figures walked past on the street. She did not see the face of the first shorter figure, he wore a heavy hood over his head and a cloak that covered his clothes. But just a step behind him was a taller unmistakable warrior. She was well armored and towering figure of a woman with platinum hair, adorned in pristinely polished Ishgardian armor. Judging her gait and the ease in which she regarded the sword that swung by her hip, Roen knew the make of the knight’s armor was not just for show.

 

“The Marquis travels with a single bodyguard. But don’t let that fool you. She is a capable one.”

 

Roen’s chest rose and fell with another long breath. Khadai was determined to do this, with or without her. And these Redeemers were corrupt people: a secret organization of power that has committed atrocious crimes. And thus far, there was no legal recourse to bring them to justice.

 

She let out another breath to steady herself. She knew Khadai was also watching, hidden elsewhere. He had been subtle enough to stay out of her line of sight, which was prudent. One did not see many Au Ra in a district like the Pillars.

 

Her hand lifted to the linkpearl in her ear.

 

“They are here.”

[Nero]

"Subdue the Marquis. I will handle his guard." That was all the warning Kasrjin gave in response.

 

With only a slight clanking of his sabatons on the shingled roof, he slipped off of the building he had been perched on, the azure steel of his greatsword in hand. The distance to the ground was about sixteen fulms. However, it would have been too difficult to roll with the sword strapped to his back. The Xaela held the blade perpendicular to his body, the flat of the blade facing his torso. As he leaned his weight forward to roll from the landing, the position of the blade adjusted, and the Au Ra's brief tumble segued smoothly into a wide, horizontal swing.

 

The lady knight possessed impressive instincts, as the shuffling of the shingles above her had alerted her instincts. A violent shove pushed the Marquis towards the building while a swift ducking motion saved her head from the steel of his blade. A small click indicated the knight's longsword leaving her scabbard, and Kasrjin adjusted the hilt of his blade to catch the enemy's sword just before it reached his head.

 

Kasrjin was in a kneeling position as a result of his roll, but that was quick to change. A forceful parry with the hilt of his greatsword caused the knight to stagger. The Xaela's left hand placed itself against the flat of his blade, the right firmly holding the top of the hilt. In this position, he made short, controlled thrusts with the greatsword, using it more as a spear than as a sword. As the knight carried no shield, her only option was to parry the thrusts away.

 

Rather than back up, however, she dashed forward. A part of Kasrjin could not help but be impressed; in only a few seconds had she managed to gauge the effective range of Kasrjin's weapon, and rightfully determined that it would have limited effectiveness close-up.

 

As the knight manoeuvred forward, she placed her left gauntlet against Kasrjin's greatsword. Doing so prevented him from adjusting the position of the blade, whereas if he attempted to move the blade away from her arm to gain momentum for a swing, it would only open him to a deadly strike. With her right hand, she made a thrust towards his stomach with her sword.

 

Kasrjin let go of his greatsword, leaving it to fall upon the pavement. A twist of his body and swift movement of his right arm lead to him slapping away the thrust of the long sword, and though unarmed, the Xaela retaliated with a menacing hook from his left hand. The gauntlet smashed into the knight's face, and Kasrjin knit his brows together before following up with another hook from his now-free right hand.

 

Her sword clattered to the ground. Blood was streaming merrily from the Elezen's smashed nose and cuts upon her cheek and forehead where Kasrjin's gauntlet had bit into the fair skin. The combat only lasted for a few tens of seconds, but the adrenaline pumped through him still.

[Roen]

Roen gave half a glance to the altercation between Khadai and the female knight as she ran past them. The robed man--presumably the Marquis--had managed to unlock the door and rush in, and was just about to slam it shut when she rammed her shoulder against it. It jolted his momentum just enough to throw the man off balance, causing him to stumble and fall back onto the floor.

 

That was all the opportunity that she needed to charge through. The heavy robe that was meant to disguise him only served as further hinderance, its hem wrapping around his legs as he struggled to rise and flee. But as he spun to scramble toward the next room, he could only let out a choked gurgle as Roen grabbed and yanked on the cloak. The heavy cowl fell away from his face as he turned, to reveal an ornate hawlike mask.

 

It was momentarily disconcerting to stare at an expressionless mask. Was he fearful behind the disguise? Or confident? She took his eery silence as the former. With a slick hiss of steel, her sword was drawn with its edge coming to a stop an ilm away from his throat. She could see his larynx bob.

 

“Do not make a sound,” she warned. “Lest you force me to silence you.”

 

When he complied with a nod, she pointedly glanced at his hands near his neck. “Leave the clasp as is, and hold your hands out where I can see them.” Still keeping a hold on his cloak, she stepped to the side of him, giving herself the view of the door. She heard no other noise from within. Valencourt had spoken true when he assured her that only the Marquis and the bodyguard would occupy the manor at the time of the meeting.

 

Roen let out a quick exhale when she saw Khadai enter, the bloodied knight in tow. He pushed the armored woman to the ground and shut the door behind him; the Au Ra then immediately glanced out the window to see if there were any witnesses. When he turned back around and nodded, Roen sighed with relief that the first part of their plan had been successful.

 

As her eyes warily returned to their two prisoners, however, she reminded herself it would all be for naught if what came next did not bear fruit.

[Nero]

Kasrjin was careful in binding their two charges with rope he'd carried on his person. He'd inspected the female knight's armour to make sure there were no sharp edges on her gauntlets, sabatons, or breastplate. It was likely that someone would notice their absence eventually, but for now they would have the time they needed.

 

"Interrogations would be fruitless," he commented to Roen, a sentiment that was confirmed by the female knight's baleful glare. The Xaela casually flipped the hawk-like mask the Marquis wore, revealing a fairly average-looking Hyur furrowing his brow. "It is doubtful they will tell us anything useful. We'll search the premises, then." The manor was smaller and less palatial than most other residences on the Pillars, but even Kasrjin with his limited understanding of the concept of wealth could tell that effort was invested into its appearance by the craftsmanship of the items. Ornamental weapons, finely polished woodworks, and large and garishly elaborate tapestries adorned the residence.

 

Kasrjin was quick to note, however, that other than superficial decorations, the residence was empty. There was almost no furniture save for a single desk and three chairs in the study, and a dusty couch in the hallway preceding it. The bookshelves were empty. There was no bed or anything to suggest that anyone stayed in this residence for any extended period of time. It was a house, but it was not somewhere anyone lived.

 

In the study, however, several scratches on the floorboards behind the desk caught Kasrjin's eye. They were almost imperceptible--one might mistake them for tricks of light--but it was the only place in the manor that seemed marred in any way. The Au Ra withdrew his greatsword and drove the tip into the boards. The wood made loud creaking and splintering sounds in protest, and it took him some time to dig the blade underneath the boards enough to pry them open.

 

Underneath the boards was a small box comprised of smooth, lacquered wood. A careful inspection displayed a numerical lock of some kind. The Xaela frowned. Another forceful application of the greatsword upon the surface of the box introduced a large crack onto the lacquered surface of the wood. Rather than pry the box open via its lid, Kasrjin instead cracked the side walls of the box and unceremoniously dumped most of the contents out onto the floor..

 

Within the box were sheets of parchment; notes from each Marquis or Marquise to the other. On the underside of the lid that Kasrjin had pried off was a small vial of vitriol, a complex mechanical mechanism intending to break and destroy the box's contents should the box be forced open through its lid; the initial break mark where Kasrjin had stabbed the blade into the box was only a few ilms away from it. It would seem that the designer was planning for thieves or conventional violence, and not someone simply sawing an entire side of the box open.

 

It appeared that the manor was the location each member of the Court used to confer with...whomever, and this box was what they used to update each other member of the Court as to their activities. There were, of course, no names or anything to implicate any identifiable persons; most of the documents were written in some form of code or cipher, and even the ones written in plainly legible Common used so many acronyms and shorthand phrases that without context it was more or less useless.

 

There were, however, a few pages that were clearly legible. One was an exhaustive set of alchemical notes detailing the nature of the dragon's blood within Spoken. Kasrjin could decipher very little of it, but he could recognise enough complete sentences to tell that it would be prospectively useful. The other was a map pinpointing some location outside of the city. It was made out of a translucent material, but directly beneath it was a rough map of Ishgard, indicating that there was some kind of...passage or other that lead to underneath Saint Reymanaud's Cathedral.

 

Kasrjin returned to the main hall, handing most of the parchments he collected to Roen who had just returned from searching other areas of the manor. "Very little seems legible," the Au Ra admitted. "Something indicates their presence beneath the cathedral." The lady knight fixed her glare upon him even through the bleeding bruises upon her face. Kasrjin folded his arms. "I care little for these Redeemers. It is unlikely that the two of us will be able to remove them from Ishgard alone. At the least, however, we can disrupt this 'ritual' you described and retrieve whatever was stolen from my kin."

[Roen]

Roen studied the pages, her eyes skimming over the contents. The ones written in code she set aside, but the alchemical notes… they caught her eye. Not only because it was written plainly, perhaps the author felt that technical details would not translate well in short hand, but some pages also described various procedures that involved magitek. Roen was no expert in the field, but having been raised by a scientist whose work primarily involved Garlean technology, it was impossible not to have absorbed some knowledge in her early years.

 

So, this scientist that The Redeemers had employed, was also familiar with Garlean technology? Valencourt had mentioned that The Court did bring in an alchemist as part of their efforts to eradicate the dragon influence from Spoken blood. It was with her research along with the relic and knowledge presumably from Khadai’s people, that they had made a breakthrough.

 

When Roen got to the middle of the page, she paused. She read the passage twice. It mentioned trials using the knowledge of the Void and creatures therein. The findings on it were succinctly put, it was deemed too unstable a factor. But the fact that it was used in their studies at all…

 

“Do me a favor and keep an ear to the ground for me, would you?” Delial had asked her many moons ago regarding any matters involving the Voidsent in Ishgard. Grimsong was on the hunt for a particular Garlean scientist then. Roen’s eyes narrowed.

 

Could it be?

 

She glanced back at Khadai then the Marquis and the female knight. He was right. Just the two of them would not be able to expose The Redeemers. At least not yet. But since this knowledge was obtained from the two prisoners tied in front of them, Khadai and she had very little time to act, before what they learned here became also known to The Redeemers. No matter how they dealt with the bodyguard and the Marquis, they still had perhaps a sun at most, before whatever was marked on the map would become useless.

 

“Then we move on this now,” she rolled up the papers and tucked it into her pack.

[Nero]

The location marked on the map was not actually outside the city; it was, however, outside the Pillars. While reconstruction was a ubiquitous sight in the Foundations, some rubble on the outskirts of the Saint Reinette Forum had been carefully arranged to conceal a blank spot of stone wall. A wave of Kasrjin's hand on the wall revealed that it was a glamour; if nobody knew to look at this exact location, it was highly unlikely it would ever be found.

 

The passage within was dimly lit, but it mattered little, for it was more or less a completely straight corridor. It was impossible to tell for how long they walked--Kasrjin stopped counting the seconds at around three hundred--but they eventually reached what could vaguely be called an intersection. According to the map, they should be close to directly underneath Saint Reymanaud's Cathedral. Straight ahead was an unremarkable steel door. To the left was another long hallway.

 

There were no guards and no personnel present in general. While suspicious at first, the more the Au Ra thought about it, the more it made sense; constant ingress and egress to this secret passage would only draw more attention to it, so it was likely whoever came here only came sparingly. Second, they relied almost entirely on secrecy to protect its location. Had Roen not been given such valuable information from the dragoon, the likelihood of them finding this location was likely close to zero.

 

"I will go straight ahead," Kasrjin said, pushing open the steel door. "We will meet at the entrance, if we do not encounter one another." A part of him was wary about finding his way back given his sense of direction, but it should theoretically be impossible to get lost in a completely straight hallway. Maybe.

 

Behind the door was what appeared to be nothing more than a modest, circular chamber. What Kasrjin saw, however, was very different; colours and shapes of all sorts and sizes, nearly incomprehensible to him. The myriad reflections of light sent his mind reeling as they flashed upon the walls of the chamber. The Correspondence burned, and each time he blinked he could feel each character marking itself within his eyelids.

 

Sitting on an unimpressive pedestal in the middle was an obsidian hemisphere. Or so it seemed; with every second that Kasrjin stared at it, it seemed to change. One second it was pitch black, and the next it was dark red. From being a smooth hemisphere it because a long cone-shaped object.

 

Instinctively, he reached behind him to touch the keystone's counterpart. It felt warm, the heat pulsing upon his hand even through his metal gauntlets. The resonance was unmistakable. His left hand was firmly fixed on the stone in his pack, while his right hand gingerly reached out to grab the stone on the pedestal.

 

Images and sounds flashed before his eyes. Dialogues and sights. They cannot know your part in this. It was a voice. His voice? Or Tsuven's voice? Kasrjin felt the chains around his wrists and ankles, staring up at the obsidian pillar within Karaad-El. He saw Tsanai, biting her lip, as if on the verge of breaking into sobs, her hands curling into fists as she stared at the temple from afar. The chains tightened. A white hot light brighter than a sun, brighter than a thousand suns, seared his eyes. He felt it digging into him, into his skull--

 

YOU WOULD STILL SEEK IT, KNOWING WHAT YOU KNOW? YOU WOULD RETURN IT TO HER KNOWING OF HER BETRAYAL?

 

And it was over.

 

Almost unconsciously, his right hand scooped the keystone off of its pedestal and placed it in the bag with the other piece. The myriad colours of the Correspondence flickered out, one by one, leaving the Au Ra in complete darkness.

 

He collapsed, briefly. When his hands opened his pack to make sure of the keystone's presence, the hemispheres were gone. In its place was a single, perfect sphere, roughly the size of a melon. Its smooth obsidian surface pulsed and streaked with lines of myriad colours. Kasrjin took a deep breath.

 

That was enough, for now. Just a brief rest.

[Roen]

Roen opened the door slowly, her free hand on the hilt of her sword.

 

The room beyond the heavy double steel doors was not what she had expected. Where the winter chill pervaded the dark long hallway, the hidden chamber within was considerably warmer. Roen glanced up at the high ceiling where a chandelier of Belah’dian glass hung overhead. The chandelier's light added to the Nymian-style lanterns that hung from the walls, well... none would suffer for the lack of illumination here. Tall eight-fulm shelves with accompanying ladders were stocked with bottles of reagents, books, and ceramic pots, and a heavy polished rosewood tables sat at the center of the room.

 

It was a sophisticated laboratory hidden underground, far beneath the affluent districts of the Pillars; Roen had not seen the likes of it since she set foot in the Alchemist Guild in Ul’dah. She had heard rumors of strange and fantastical experiments that were tied to the Alchemist Guild then, but none were ever as ambitious as to try and directly affect an entire city-state's populous. Was it even possible? To remove something within one’s blood, a trait that had been inherited through generations?

 

She shook her head. After all that she had seen, she knew not to doubt the possibilities. Nor to underestimate the reach and capabilities of the ambitious and the powerful.

 

Roen took note of the various items that were neatly assembled on the table, her eyes scanning the area for anything that could be useful. The laboratory was thankfully unoccupied for the moment, and she would take full advantage to gather what information she could from the place. She knew not if a relic such as the keystone would be kept in a place like this, but surely something of import must be here.

 

Rifling through drawers and shelves, and even tracing and inspecting the walls for hidden compartments yielded some documents. There were some historical records of Ishgard’s population: it systematically categorized many noble family names with details on how strong their lineage ties were to the Knights Twelve. Some individual names were highlighted, with notes made if they were bastard children. The illegitimate offspring were listed separately, and then many of them crossed off. Roen did not know what that meant.

 

She also came across piles of notes that mostly contained anatomical diagrams; there were detailed drawings of various organs and viscera of dragonkin. Alongside them, there were newer notes comparing it to that of the Au Ra and the Elezen. It was painstakingly detail-oriented and many times rather gruesome. When she then came across the rack with manacles in the corner surrounded by faint old blood stains, she shuddered to think how exactly those illustrations were obtained.

 

Roen paused when she found a hidden compartment on the underside of a desk, a small tablet tucked within. It drew her eye because it was of Garlean make. She had seen them before in her father’s labs. But just as she was about to activated it, she heard the sounds of another door opening followed by voices coming from the far side of the room. She winced that she had not spotted the second door on the other side of the laboratory. She ducked under the desk that she had been inspecting, crouching ever still so that her armor did not announce her presence.

 

“The final batch of specimens should be arriving soon,” a woman’s voice intoned. It was somewhat hushed. “We really shouldn’t.”

 

“You worry over much. We have plenty of time. Everything is already in order for the final step.” The second was a breathy male voice. Roen did not recognize either of them. Their words ceased as the sound of glass bottles clinked together drowned them out, as if being shoved aside. “Once the delivery is made, we will have absolutely no time to ourselves.”

 

Roen narrowed her eyes when she began to hear more shuffling and quickened breaths. She rubbed her eyebrows. Perhaps if she were to engage them while they were unclothed, they would be defenseless...

 

“Ah!” An alarmed cry ceased whatever activity the two were engaging in. It made Roen reach for her sword. “Whew… we nearly dropped that. That would have been disastrous.” A long sigh followed.

 

“This was a bad idea, Aurelieaux.”

 

“Oh come now, Isene. Are you not excited by what is to come? With the keystone in hand, and all that we have learned from the remains of Kavir, we finally have a chance at success. Does that not make your blood tingle?”

 

“Does Miss Reeves share your optimism?” Isene’s voice did not carry the same energy as the male's.

 

The male, Aurelieaux, snorted. “Does that woman ever show any emotion?” He chuckled then paused when it was not reciprocated. “I’ll admit that she is quite knowledgeable, but odd. Too chilly and distant. We rarely hold any conversation. She only gives me instructions.”

 

“Hence the sparseness of your reports,” Isene chided.

 

Aurelieaux tsked at the rebuke. “I relay all that I see and learn to you. It still strikes me as strange that you have me spy on her work. As if you don’t trust her yourself.”

 

“I don’t trust her,” Isene answered sharply. “None had heard of her until she appeared at our doorstep. If it wasn’t for Lord Jeaumis vouching for her unconventional methods, the Marquis would have never agreed to patron her.”

 

“Do I sense a bit of jealousy?” Aurelieaux purred playfully, but then quickly changed his tone. “No, of course not. What would Isene Daumois ever find in a middle class Hyur to be envious of?”

 

“Just make certain the preparations are complete.” The woman’s voice had become decidedly colder. Her footsteps echoed further away.

 

“Don’t be angry. I was merely--” Aurelieaux chased after the woman and the door closed behind him.

 

Roen exhaled a breath she had been holding and scurried out from under the table. She glanced to the other end of the laboratory, where the two had left. The other door was hidden from view behind a partition, but she heard nothing else after their exit. It made sense that there might be a portal leading out elsewhere than the Foundation, and from the sound of things, more were to arrive soon from that direction.

 

It was time to leave. As she tucked the tablet into a bag, she hoped that Khadai had better luck than she did.

[Nero]

After leaving the passageway, the pair made their way out of the city proper as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. They exchanged very little words, just a nod and gesture now and then. It was only after they were a good ways away from the Gates of Judgement that they finally stopped in their tracks.

 

His journey close to its end, Kasrjin made a mental checklist. Karadwr had been sold to a reputable chocobo breeder, and any excess funds that he'd had, the Xaela had already given to the children he had been training in the Brume, along with any new equipment he thought they might need.

 

Roen glanced around before looking up at him. "I hope you had some success. We could not stay there much longer."

 

A short nod served as a confirmation. Kasrjin maintained his habit of reaching into the bag where the sphere lay, checking every few minutes that its presence was still there. "I did. And if what Valencourt told you was correct, then I also have the truth behind my kinsman's death, as well. With this, my endeavour is complete. Or will be, once I return." In some way, it was a bit gratifying. While losing Kaizhan was unfortunate, Kasrjin was inclined to believe that it was pure circumstance. There was some small comfort in that.

 

Roen nodded, although there was a slight crease to her brow. "Good. I am... glad." She glanced toward the direction of the gate. "I suppose sooner the better. They will be looking for you soon, I am certain of it." She gave the Au Ra a sidelong glance. "How do you plan to return?"

 

Kasrjin pulled off his left gauntlet and rolled up the sleeve of the tabard as far up as he could. Tied to his left forearm was a slim piece of obsidian, fastened with twine. On its surface was a glowing rune that pulsed softly with a dim, warm light. "I've kept this with my person, and it will lead me back to my vessel within the forest. After that, it is nearly one moon to return to Othard."

 

Roen glanced at the rune up his arm, her gaze lingering on it. Her expression grew solemn. "Will you leave right away?"

 

Another nod as Kasrjin replaced the sleeve and gauntlet over the rune. "I must. Bearing in mind the nature of my mission...keeping this object with me is also discomforting, in a way." As if to illustrate his anxiety, he reached into the pack strapped to his waist to feel the sphere again. "And you? Will you...return?"

 

Roen nodded, almost sternly. "Aye, of course. We cannot risk them finding you as they did your kinsman." She pursed her lips to one side. "Return to Ishgard? Perhaps, with care. These people still... remain. We may have foiled their plan, but they still want what they want. And who knows what they are willing to do to achieve their goals." She looked toward the gate again. "Besides, I think... I may know who their alchemist is that is working on this." Her tone lowered. "If I am right, I cannot let her be."

 

Kasrjin shook his head. "I did not refer to Ishgard. I mean the place that caused you to come to Ishgard."

 

The paladin blinked and looked back at him, remaining silent for a short time before answering with a nod. "I believe so. I too... was shown things, in Ehs Daih." Her words were quiet, but her expression had softened, her lips curling slightly. "It gave me some answers."

 

A small grin graced the Xaela's face. "Then my presence here was not wasted. Nor were the apparent secrets of my people. That is good. I understand that duty is not the same cornerstone to your people as it is to mine. Nonetheless, it grants a certainty that few things can match." He nodded in approval. A sharp glance towards the city turned his expression somber. "You had best be careful moving within that city going forward. Doubtless there are new enemies to be made there."

 

A long released breath plumed in front of Roen's face. She nodded and then stepped closer to him, bringing her gaze upwards as she stared intently into his shimmering eyes. "Your presence here... has helped me greatly. Thank you." Her last words were nearly whispered, and would be lost to the winter gales if it was at its full force. But it was a quiet offering, as the snow drifted down around them peacefully.

 

"There is one more thing." She glanced down for a moment, as if to collect her thoughts. "You said something in the cave. That happiness meant nothing." She shook her head, a small frown drawing her brows. "I know your people live different and very directed lives, but I hope when you return, if you find your place with your people again, that you also find... and seek happiness. I believe in the end, it is something that everyone should seek. In their own way."

 

Kasrjin tilted his head. "I expect that the seeking of something so transient will remain a point of contention between your peoples and mine. Nonetheless, I accept the sentiment."

 

Roen curled a small grin in response. "Very well."

 

The Au Ra glanced south, towards the Shroud. "It would be best of we parted before we lost whatever lead we had upon our pursuers." She nodded again and glanced to the ground. She glanced back up at him, before frowning again. She was hesitating. She looked back at him once more. "Stand still for a moment." Though a puzzled look crossed Kasrjin's face, he did as instructed.

 

She stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his torso, and laid her head against his chest. It was a firm embrace. "I will miss you." Roen whispered. "Stay well."

 

He was not sure how to return the gesture, but placed his hands atop her shoulders briefly, before she stepped back and looked up at him intently. "I do not know if I shall see you again, so I am committing your face to memory." Roen reached into her pouch and held up that linkpearl they shared. "And if you ever return south, you can always contact me."

 

Kasrjin pursed his lips in thought for a brief moment, trying to recall some lessons of the Aljai. "There is a place on Othard, where the tribes of the Xaela meet, far from our glaciers. Look for the Xaela wearing adornments of obsidian, and you will find those of my people." He paused momentarily. "...you may tell them of your association with Kasrjin of the Khadai, and should it please you, we may meet again."

 

She nodded at his instruction, then paused. Her lips broadened into a smile. "Kasrjin... of the Khadai," she echoed softly. "It is... good to know you, Kasrjin."

 

And with a low nod of his head, Kasrjin turned to leave. "Henyn il enfath dwyr. May your suns find fair weather, Roen." His sabatons crunched in the snow as he marched south, towards home.

 

--

 

Some time later, amidst the glacial valley...

 

"Who was Tsuven?"

 

Tsanai was startled by the presence of a sharp, feminine voice at the entrance of her yurt, causing her to drop the chisel she had been using to carve another rune into a piece of Karaad-El's obsidian. Standing with her arms folded was Alaqu, the latter's crimson hair having grown somewhat longer since the departure of the expedition.

 

The Tsenkhai breathed deep before turning back to the piece of obsidian. "Someone not of your concern," she huffed with some indignation.

 

"It does concern me when it causes you to interfere with my role," Alaqu snapped in a severe tone, sauntering over to Tsanai's workstation and dropping a small tablet upon it, causing the slight wooden frame of the desk to shudder from the impact. Inscribed upon the tablet was a series of runes, conveying a discrepancy in the materials needed for the expedition to the Western Continent. There was more information inscribed there, but Tsanai dare not glance at it, for she had an idea of what it was.

 

"Logistics is the duty of the Aljai. I was suspicious of you from the start when you proposed this, so imagine my surprise when I find that you saw fit to needlessly appropriate extra resources for the sake of one lone Khadai. Your favourite Khadai, Kasrjin." The Aljai raised a hand to stop Tsanai from protesting. "I also know that...you lied about having been to the Western continent. The other Tsenkhai said Karaad-El's memories had no record of you, one of its own Tsenkhai, ever leaving our shores. And you lied to the Erdegai to convince them to make Kasrjin a sword. That you stole in order to have it made. The conclusion I had to draw is that the expedition to the Western continent was...nothing but folly, based only off of your fabrications. And that for some reason, you did it for Tsuven."

 

Tsanai sighed again, moving the tablet off to the side. "If you have spoken to Albei, then you know who Tsuven is. Was. He was a...traitor, one who conspired to destroy everything we held dear."

 

"And you truly believe that, do you?" Alaqu frowned. "Which is why you spent so much time favouring his former vessel. Which is why you lied to the Erdegai to make that sword for him. And you lied to the other Tsenkhai about what he was to you. Why you lied about having been to the Western continent!" Alaqu uncrossed and recrossed her arms, foot tapping the ground with impatience. "I have let your transgressions pass out of...some twisted form of respect that you knew what you were doing, and because you are Tsenkhai. If you do not confess before me, I guarantee that I will have you confess before Karaad-El itself if that is what it takes."

 

"You step outside your role, Aljai," Tsanai snapped, standing up and turning to face her, her dreadlocks flying with indignation.

 

"My role is the welfare of my people!" Alaqu shot back. The two Xaela were of similar height and build. "I believed that your role, the role of all Tsenkhai was the same. And yet you did so much just for a vessel!"

 

Tsanai bit her lip.

 

Alaqu exhaled, as if trying to expel whatever anger she felt. "I am coming to you to let you speak because...my instincts tell me that you must have done all of this for a reason. And having you dragged before the Tsenkhai and forfeited to Karaad-El will not help me understand that reason. The reason why you sent so many of our people on such a wild chase, a chase they might not return from! Not your precious Kasrjin, not Jalaq, not...Kaizhan." Alaqu winced. "For all I know, you may have just killed all of them. So I need to know why."

 

The Tsenkhai could do nothing but turn away. She was biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

 

"Tell me who he was," Alaqu repeated with a combination of solemnity and exhaustion. "And why you did this, and mayhaps we can think about repairing the results of your crimes."

 

Tsanai took a deep breath, her hands clenched to her elbows until her knuckles turned white. She didn't turn to face Alaqu, speaking slowly, softly.

 

"I...wanted to change things. I was sick of it. Being locked inside that temple, for years, doing nothing but interpreting the Correspondence. I was told it was my role, my duty. It was more than fifteen cycles before I ever saw the sun. The true sun, not some mental fabrication that Karaad-El devised to keep me docile."

 

"Tsuven, he...followed me. I showed him what I wanted and convinced him that it was what he wanted as well. Freedom. Not being tied to this role, this name, but the freedom to..." Tsanai trailed off, as if she didn't know what to say. "I conspired to...break Karaad-El. To burn away the Correspondence, so that we would be free of our role. A naive plan, one that I was so sure would work. Tsuven helped me. And when the time came, it failed. The Tsenkhai caught on, and they warned Karaad-El, and Karaad-El was...angry."

 

Tsanai sank to her knees, arms curling around her legs. "He took the fall for me. They didn't know what I had done, what I had planned. And Tsuven forfeited himself, for me. And for my crime, they devoured his essence until his vessel was hollow and empty, and saw fit to replace him with a mindless warrior from a hundred cycles ago. Or, at least I thought he was mindless. He was more like Tsuven than I could tell him. And he had...his face, his voice, his mannerisms."

 

"Tsuven was the one who had been to the Western continent, but those memories were banished when he was devoured. It was his knowledge I was using to convince everyone that the expedition was needed. And I sent his vessel so that...he might be free. Even if he spends the remainder of his life searching for a fabrication, he would at least be someplace where he could be a person."

 

Alaqu's lip quivered. "All of them? You decided to strand all of them there...for him?"

 

Tsanai only nodded slowly.

 

The Aljai let out a low exhale. "Even with what you have told me...the lives you have cost, the sedition you have committed. I cannot let this pass. It was foolish of you to think that you could pay penance to Tsuven by saving his vessel."

 

The Tsenkhai didn't move.

 

As Alaqu turned to leave. "May you find some redemption for the ruin you brought to others," she murmured softly.