There was nothing but darkness around her. Twilight blinked in confusion, looking around with wide eyes. “What? Where am I? How did I get here?” she asked out loud. Her ears swivelled as she heard the sound of her own voice echoing around her as if she were in a large enclosed chamber. The way it sounded was familiar to her…
She turned again, squinting into the darkness. “Hello?! Is anypony there?!” she called out. A cold, unsettling feeling was starting to crawl up her back, like an insect using her spine as a ladder. It made her shiver, and she took an instinctual step back.
She was being watched.
“Twilight Sparkle.”
Twilight went rigid. The voice had come from behind her, cold, authoritative… and hauntingly familiar. She turned to face the voice, her blood going cold. Up ahead, slightly elevated above her position, a beam of light shone down on the last pony Twilight had expected to see since she came to Eorzea.
“Princess Celestia?”
The Princess of the Sun glared down at her, all of the warm, motherly warmth having long since fled her eyes. She was seated on her throne, and her wings were unfurled in a display of dominance.
“I am disappointed in you, Twilight,” Celestia said slowly, lifting her head to stare down her nose at Twilight.
Twilight flinched back instinctively, her ears lowering. “W-what? Why?! What did I do?”
In response to that question, a new beam of light appeared in front of Twilight, revealing a familiar body. Twilight let out a shriek of fear, taking a step back.
At her hooves was the body of the imperial commander she'd murdered; his helmet shattered, his face mangled with shards of shrapnel and oozing blood onto the carpet. His revealed eye was wide open in agony and terror, staring back at her, white and glassy, with tears of more blood trailing down. Fresh tears.
Celestia gave off a disgusted huff and looked away. “...I thought I had taught you better than this,” she said darkly. “But it seems I was wrong.”
“I… I didn’t…” Twilight stammered, fishing desperately for words. Her stomach twisted in her belly, her heart hammering against her ribs. She tore her eyes away from her victim to stare pleadingly at her old mentor. “I didn’t mean to! It was an accident! Please, I wasn’t trying to-”
“Do you think your intentions are of any comfort to the dead?!” Celestia suddenly bellowed, rising to her full height. Her voice boomed like thunder, silencing Twilight’s flailing protests. “I taught you to cherish life! ALL life! I taught you—raised you—to help souls like him seek redemption and forgiveness! Just like with Discord and Nightmare Moon!”
Twilight lowered her head, trembling. “I-I’m sorry,” she choked out, her eyes misting over. She screwed them shut, struggling to hold back sobs. “I’m so sorry!”
There was a prolonged moment of silence. She heard Celestia scoff and turn away from her. “Your apologies come too late. The deed is done. This man, regardless of his crimes, is dead, and it is your fault. You are unworthy to be called the Princess of Friendship.”
As the Princess gave her declaration, yet more lights came to be. And standing in each beam of light, Twilight was greeted by the sight of her friends, glaring at her with eyes full of fire and judgement.
“Ah can’t believe y’all would do such a thing. Ah thought y’all were the best of us…”
“It’s ghastly, Twilight! What in Equestria were you thinking?!”
“...I can’t look at you. I’m sorry.”
“How many friends did he have?! How many people are going to miss him?! How many people did you make sad with what you’ve done?!”
“I looked up to you, Twilight! Guh! Why?!”
Twilight spun in a slow circle as each of her friends, the ponies she loved most, delivered their verdicts, her heart shattering with every word of condemnation. “Wait! Please! Just let me explain!”
Another beam of light. It was Spike.
Twilight went rigid, her eyes locking onto his. He stared back at her for several long seconds, his eyes shimmering.
“...Why?” he finally asked softly, his eyes darting to the corpse. “You could have saved him… right?”
“I… I…”
“Right?”
Twilight swallowed heavily. She soon crumpled to the floor, screwing her eyes shut and sobbing pathetically into the floor. “I’m so sorry…”
There was no answer.
And when, finally, she opened her eyes again…
Amongst her betrayed friends and enraged mentor, a single six-pointed crystal floated silently in the dark. The Element of Magic pulsed with gentle light, unnoticed by the others even as it sat amidst the group as clear as the alabaster alicorn’s day.
Tears matting her cheeks, the cold glares of her fellow Equestrians assaulting her worse than any hellfire Ifrit could have hoped to conjure, Twilight’s hoof slowly and shakily began to reach out towards the artefact. For comfort? For hope? She wasn’t sure why, but instinct drove her on.
And then, with a thunderous crack, a fissure opened up in the crystal's surface.
The explosion of darkness that followed swallowed all, the foul miasma erupting from within the crystal as it shattered into dust that scattered along an unseen wind. Twilight could do little to brace herself as she was submitted to the full force of the shadow, just able to make out her friends being wiped away by the darkened magicks with scarcely enough time to scream.
“No… No! Why…?”
And there, standing where the crystal had been mere moments before, a robed figure emerged as if formed from the shadows themselves. A black mask covering half his face, the figure’s naked jaw grinned as a predator would at its prey.
Twilight froze under the familiar ascian’s scrutiny, words failing her amidst the continued onslaught of shadow and his dominating presence both. She wanted to scream, shout, cry. Call for help from anyone! Her friends old and new, Celestia, Y’shtola…
But there was no one. She’d driven them all away. She was entirely alone.
The ascian started to raise his clawed hand towards the young alicorn, digits spread wide almost as if to grab her throat, his movements so vivid, so real… Strangely, to her eyes, more so than the others had been... And then, in yet another burst of shadow, something began to sprout behind him. Crystal a deep corrupted purple exploded high into the air, smaller shards almost like branches sprouting from the trunk like tendrils seeking any sign of light to snuff from existence.
And then the ascian’s face was obscured as a red sigil sparked to life, one final wave of shadow shooting outwards until Twilight’s vision went entirely dark.
“Beware darkness’ minion, child of another star. Doom approaches both at the hour appointed…”
Twilight woke with a blood-curdling scream, sitting bolt upright in her cot. A cold sweat blanketed her body, those strange words echoing in her ears. She looked around, slowly starting to calm down from her panic as reality reasserted itself. The room she was in was dark, but the light of the early morning sun shining in through a porthole let her see her surroundings.
She was in one of many passenger rooms aboard the large ship she and Y’shtola had acquired passage on. There was another cot across the claustrophobic space from her, though its occupant was noteworthy by her absence. A single chest was situated against the wall under the porthole, containing some of their possessions.
Twilight took a few deep breaths to steady her nerves. Then, with a quick application of magic, her glamour was applied, and she hopped down from her cot and stepped into the hall. It was still early, and she didn’t see anyone else as she emerged.
She still felt stifled from her nightmare. Her heart was still pounding, and her breaths were shaky. She needed air. She needed space. She made for the top deck at a brisk pace, hopeful that some sunlight and wind could chase away her dread and get her back into a good headspace.
She emerged onto the top deck and was immediately blasted in the face by the frigid ocean wind. She squinted against both it and the bright light of the rising sun. Blinking the stars out of her eyes, she scanned her surroundings until they landed on a lone figure leaning over the rails of the ship, looking down into the passing waters. It was Y’shtola.
The miqo’te turned to her and nodded in greeting. She must have heard Twilight coming up.
“Ah, I see you have awakened. Was it restful, at least?”
“I… can’t say so, no…”
Y’shtola hummed, looking around to ensure nobody was paying attention to the woman talking to ‘her’ carbuncle and, when satisfied, turned back to the disguised mare.
“Pray tell, what troubles you? Though I can hazard a guess.”
Twilight sighed, the little lavender carbuncle hopping up and resting her forelegs on the side of the ship, staring off into the endless blue sea.
“Yeah, I think you can. I just… I didn’t mean to kill him! I just wanted to knock him down, like I did that other soldier. But then I… That spell…! I’m not used to magic here and…! No, it’s an excuse. I can’t excuse it. I’m a monster, just like you said.”
Y’shtola’s eyes creased into a frown at that, and what could almost be mistaken for a hint of guilt appeared. “My fear of your powers has nothing to do with dispatching a single imperial. Regrettable though the act was, and in the manner it befell, t’was in self-defence only. Believe me when I say the Empire would show you less mercy, and we Scions have defended ourselves in like manner many times. Or would you label us monsters as well?”
“What? No! But… I’m not…”
“Do not hold yourself to an arbitrary standard of perfection, it would avail you little. I remain cautious of the potential misuse of your powers, due to their similarities to that of a primal, but you are no monster. Nay, I see you as more of a lost child, thrust into a terrible situation unprepared and unhardened. Do not lose sight of the cost of your actions, but know we would have suffered it in his stead had you not acted as you did.”
“Thanks… I think. I’m not a foal.”
“Upon this star, you are but starting anew,” she retorted playfully, before her more guarded expression returned. “Be that as it may, the power to destroy does remain within you. You will do well to keep it in check, lest it destroy those far less deserving. An outcome I shan’t allow.”
And Twilight thought she’d gotten her to open up for a moment there…
“Right…” she finally replied. “It was weird, though. In my nightmare, on top of… all that stuff, I saw the ascian that brought me here too. But it was weird…”
“How so? 'Tis natural to witness such a visage in your nightmares, given the fiend’s actions that day.”
“I know, that’s what I thought too. But he felt so much more real than everything else. There was this shadow, a woman’s voice… and his face lit up all red for some reason, not sure what that was about.”
Y’shtola’s frown deepened. “Red? A glyph, perchance?”
“Yeah, there was. Like a big crimson eye with three spikey teardrops coming out of the bottom.”
“Indeed? Your description calls to mind the glyph of the black-masked ascians, one they all share. But you had never seen it before? It did not appear when you faced him in your world? Thancred never mentioned such a thing, nor our mutual friend?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Y’shtola hummed, tapping her chin in her typical manner when contemplating something important. She didn’t reply right away, staring off into the sea as mental gymnastics played behind her eyes. It was a good three minutes, at least, before she lowered her arms back to the railing and elected on a response.
“As I believe you are already aware, the ascian you met is but a minion, one of several. Their overlords hold far more daunting attire, and their own glyphs are unique. But that you saw one at all, without prior knowledge, suggests there was more to your dream. Tell me, what of this woman’s voice did you chance to hear?”
“Wait, you’re saying it’s not a dream?” Twilight asked in alarm, her mind racing back on her foalhood studies. On occasion, she had read about prophetic dreams and their applications and mysteries. That specific book had been a favourite of hers for a week or so. “That’s… that could mean… or was he…?”
“Twilight, though I do appreciate the wonderings of the scholarly mind, her words if you please?”
“Oh, right! She said something about… darkness’ minions and the approach of doom?”
“Indeed? Troubling… That She should deign to speak to you, one without the echo or the blessing of light… Perhaps your natural connection to your Element, and its light aspected aether, provides a link for Her to utilize…?”
Twilight’s fake whiskers quivered as she pouted at the scholar. “I’m sorry, the alien pony is lost, please fill it in?”
Y’shtola was snapped from her ruminations and turned back to Twilight. “Ah, forgive me. My mind was awash with speculation. Tell me—what do you know of Hydaelyn?”
Twilight frowned, tilting her head. “I, er… I’ve heard the name, before. Minfillia said Hydaelyn was a ‘Mother’ or something, and Yda told me that Hydaelyn was a big crystal that’s also the planet… which doesn’t make any sense to me.”
Y’shtola nodded. “Very well. To give you a brief explanation, then, Hydaelyn is the true name of a great Crystal that exists, we believe, within the Aetherial Sea. She is a godlike being of immense power who has long watched over this world, with which She shares Her name. To ensure Her will is carried out, She imbues chosen champions with slivers of Her power, which take the form of Crystals of Light. She also grants them the Blessing of Light, and the Echo—a power possessed by precious few that is deeply mysterious, yet allows individuals to more keenly comprehend the truths hiding in the souls of others.
“It is through these gifts that She may commune with Her champions. Yet you possess neither. Even so, ‘tis likely that the voice you heard within your dream was none other than that of Hydaelyn Herself.”
Twilight blinked, slowly looking down. “So… how is she talking to me, then?” she asked slowly.
Y’shtola frowned, turning to look out at the sea. “Though I lack sufficient proof to back it up, I believe I have a theory. Back in the Waking Sands, when first we met, you told us of the Tree of Harmony, and of how it serves as a beacon of light and harmony in your world. Such a description could be just as easily applied to Hydaelyn. As such, I suspect that She felt your entrance into this world, and perhaps used your link to the Element of Harmony you are searching for to reach out to you…”
Her frown deepened, her eyes darkening with worry. “And yet, if it is true that Hydaelyn is reaching out to you in such a manner...”
Twilight tilted her head. “...Let me guess. It’s bad, isn’t it?”
Y’shtola turned back to Twilight. “Hydaelyn has never been one to intercede in the affairs of the world without reason. Cryptic as she has long been, that one truth has remained consistent. Whensoever people begin to hear the Crystal’s call, ‘tis almost always in the years preceding a new calamity. For you to hear it, bereft of Her gifts as you are, is of great concern.”
A chill wormed through Twilight’s veins at that. She looked over the edge of the rail and into the water, her brow furrowing. There was still a lot she didn’t know, but this new information brought with it a host of deeply concerning possibilities. Amidst all of them, one truth remained the same as it was when all of this had begun.
Whatever it was that ascian wanted with her Element of Harmony, she had to stop him before it was too late.
Before her thoughts could wander any further, Y’shtola suddenly let out a loud gasp. “By the Twelve!”
Twilight’s eyes snapped open and turned to the scholar. “What is it?!”
Y’shtola pointed over the rails. “Look! Another ship!”
Twilight followed Y’shtola’s gesture and soon caught sight of the vessel. It looked to be somewhat smaller than the passenger vessel they were on. Its sails were shredded, smoke rose out of holes that had been torn into the hull, and Twilight realized with a tiny squeak that the ship was sinking.
And she could see people still on board.
“We have to help them!” she declared, turning to Y’shtola.
Y’shtola nodded firmly. “Indeed. Come, the captain must be made aware!”
There was no need for further discussion. Twilight fell into step beside Y’shtola, both of them sprinting up the stairs that would take them toward the back of the ship and to the captain’s cabin. As they went, Twilight’s eyes flicked back to the sinking ship.
Ascians or not, she’d save these people. No matter what.
She still had to make up for the life she had stolen, after all.
As they crested the top of the stairs, Twilight realized that there was already a rising swell of movement as sailors caught sight of the other vessel. As the captain’s cabin came into view, Twilight spotted a sailor already present, an elezen man. The captain stood in the doorway, a tall roegadyn of green skin and wild brown hair. He said something to the elezen, who in turn nodded and walked away.
Twilight frowned. The elezen’s face was contorted with dismay. Had he been given orders he didn’t like?
“Captain,” Y’shtola said loudly as they approached. “I presume you have been informed about the vessel in distress nearby already. Are we not to render aid?”
The captain gave Y’shtola a flat look before shaking his head. When he spoke, his voice was sharp and raspy, like barnacles scraped along sandstone. “Nay, lass. Whatever scrap as that other ship’s gotten involved in, it ain’t our business. They can fend fer ‘emselves.”
Twilight blinked in surprise, wanting to say something, but bit on her tongue at the last moment. She glanced down at one of her glamoured paws and scowled in irritation.
Luckily, Y’shtola seemed more than capable of carrying her own weight in the discussion. She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing in disapproval. “Is that so?”
“Aye. Now if yer quite done wastin’ my time-”
“Imagine if it was us,” Y’shtola interrupted him. “In distress, out on the waves and still far from any port. If they were the ones sailing by us, would you not wish for their aid?”
The captain scowled and took a threatening step forward. “Are ye questionin’ how I run my ship, lass?”
Y’shtola didn’t flinch. “Nay, though I do question the wisdom of leaving innocent souls to their fates so unfalteringly.”
“Bah. Pirates layin’ a trap, like as not,” the captain snorted, glaring past Y’shtola to the ailing vessel. “Either that or it was a Sahagin attack and everyone aboard that ship’s already been dragged into the depths. Either way, I ain’t riskin’ my life, nor me ship, to find out. We sail on.”
With that, the captain slammed the door in their faces. Twilight took a step back, her ears drooping to rest flat against her head. She looked up to Y’shtola, who was quietly seething in place. The miqo’te’s tail was lashing from side to side in agitation.
“Hmph. Coward,” Y’shtola breathed before turning to look back towards the other vessel.
“There has to be something we can do!” Twilight protested, looking out toward the ship, slowly filling with dread. “We can’t just leave them!”
Y’shtola sighed and shook her head. “Alas, from this distance, I am afraid I cannot use my magic to any great effect.”
Twilight swallowed heavily. Her mind drifted back to her nightmare, and the dread in her chest amplified tenfold. She couldn’t just sit here! She couldn’t let more people die if she could do something about it!
Before she knew it, she was sprinting forward, instinct taking over. She heard Y’shtola calling after her, but she did not heed her words. She leapt up onto the railing of the ship, unfurling her hidden wings, and kicked off the side of the boat. The sudden unfurling of her wings disrupted the shape of her glamour, and in a flash of grey light and mist, the image of a lavender carbuncle was dispelled.
“Please let this work, please let this work!”
She flapped her wings hard, but to her dismay, they found little purchase on the wind. Each flap only carried her a few feet before she dropped several more. She grit her teeth and flapped as hard as she could, to no avail.
She was about to hit the water when, suddenly, there was a flash of green light from beneath her, and a powerful gust of wind slammed into her belly, catching her wings. She suddenly soared upward into the air, loosing a frightened scream all the while. She momentarily glanced back and down to find out what had happened, to see Y’shtola below her, standing by the railing, with her wand in hand.
More light swirled around Y'shtola, focusing on her wand, and manifesting in a ball of visibly swirling air. They made eye contact, and Y’shtola shouted after her. “Fly!”
‘She must have used her magic to help me,’ Twilight thought, offering a small nod of thanks. Y’shtola nodded in turn, and then unleashed her spell at Twilight. Twilight quickly adjusted her orientation to catch the wind with her wings, sending her rocketing for the other ship far faster than she otherwise might have expected.
She was still bleeding altitude, and quickly. She grit her teeth, flapping for all she was worth to keep herself in the air long enough to reach the other ship. As she drew closer, she was able to make out more details. It was noticeably smaller than the vessel she had just left and was even less equipped to defend itself.
The damage was even more distressing up close. As she had noted earlier, the sails had been torn into tatters, utterly incapable of catching any more wind. Massive holes had been torn into the ship’s hull, and she could see bodies strewn about on the deck. Her stomach churned and her heart constricted as she saw pools of blood under many of them.
But alongside the dead, there were still those among the living who were scrambling to put out the rapidly spreading fires. She could hear panicked shouts from here. She idly questioned why they weren’t abandoning ship… until she spotted the empty rowboats a little way in the distance.
Some of them must have tried. Either that, or whatever had attacked them had taken away their one viable means of escape.
Whatever the reason, Twilight was here now. And the deck was coming up fast.
She tried to decelerate, but it was no use. Twilight began to scream yet again as she fell like a shooting star onto the top deck of the doomed ship. She skipped off of the wooden panels like a stone before slamming belly first into the ship’s mast and slumping to the floor in a heap.
“What in the seven hells?! What is that?!” she heard someone, a woman, screaming in alarm, her voice scratchy and hoarse, probably due to the smoke.
“Who cares?! Just put out those damn fires! What’s that other ship taking so long for?!”
Twilight groaned, forcing herself back to her hooves. As her wings folded back up to her sides, the disturbance to her glamour ended, and she stood as a carbuncle yet again. She shook her head to chase away the little chocobos that were flying in circles around it before returning her attention to her new surroundings.
“I- ow! …oof. I’m here to help!” she declared, taking a step forward.
“Did it just speak?!” the woman who had spoken earlier, a miqo’te with black hair, asked.
Twilight was getting really tired of people being surprised whenever she talked…
“Does it matter?” the other voice that she had heard a moment ago was revealed to be a tall, dark-skinned elezen. His fancier attire denoted him as likely being the captain of this ship. He looked exhausted and haggard, and Twilight cringed at the sight of several wounds decorating his body. He turned to Twilight with a grim frown. “If a carbuncle is all that other ship can spare, we’re dead in the water already.”
The faux carbuncle’s ears flattened, cursing her stunted magic for the fifty-millionth time that morning alone. She looked between all the scared, desperate faces before her own glanced back across the churning waves to the distant vessel she had left Y’shtola aboard.
And from across the sizable expanse, the woman likewise looked back, a thoughtful look crossing her features before she replaced it with her best indignant scowl and marching back up to the cabin with purpose.
“Captain? T’would do you well to emerge!”
Silence.
Y’shtola’s scowl increased, balling her hand into the fist and pounding it against the wood.
“I refuse to be ignored. So your choices are to endure my persistence or provide the courtesy of answering my summons!”
A moment passed, her fist preparing to resume its pounding, before the door opened to a particularly irritated roegadyn.
“Seven ‘ells, woman. I’m half tempted to leave ya to the sahagin!”
“You may try, but I trust the Admiral looks poorly on such conduct, as do the rogues maintaining your code,” she pointed out sharply. “Alas, there may now be more at stake for you than a visit from their trusty ‘stabbers,' namely your own pockets.”
He blinked, perplexed. “Aye? And why would that be?”
Y’shtola nodded, pointing a finger towards the ailing vessel. “My carbuncle, ever a willful construct, has taken it upon itself to see to the people you’d willingly abandon. And now seems likely to share their miserable fate.”
The Captain shrugged. “And what’s that to do with me, lass?”
Y’shtola gave him a smirk, inwardly hoping his knowledge of arcana was as broad as his sense of morality. “Do you appreciate the price of a carbuncle? To replace it would cost an exorbitant sum for the components needed for the spell… I believe the rare lavender variety goes for 200,000 gil these days.”
The Captain slowly mouthed the price, almost disbelievingly, however he didn’t seem to dispute it as his eyes widened in realization as to just where this was going.
“So, tis a simple matter. If you are unwilling to aid those in need and, in so doing, cost me my very expensive property, then you can expect a missive from the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, formerly of the Circle of Knowing, expecting due compensation.”
“Wha- the Scions of the-”
“Oh, you do know the name, then? Then I need not describe our… favourable relationship with the Admiral, little pirate. Nor should I have to explain to you the well-earned reputation of our coin keeper, one Tataru Taru. So do be a good boy and find a conscience, before it’s your coffers sinking into the sea.”
If she held any worry that the man would see through her fabrication, it was instantly wiped away. If it was a rare sight to see a comparatively small miqo’te woman tower over a burly roegadyn man, then it was a treat for the eyes who all saw him quiver in fear before her calm, yet brutally condescending, smile.
“You- I… Bah!” He turned and coughed, seemingly trying to regain some semblance of composure and authority. He stormed past her to address his crew, and she couldn’t hide her victorious smirk as he passed. “Men, I do believe it be our moral duty as upstanding pirates of ol’ Limsa, the Admiral’s finest, to see these souls delivered from the Locker! Bring her about!”
“Indeed, your… heroism is duly noted,” Y’shtola got in one final scathing bite before looking around at the suddenly frantic movements of the crew, with no small measure of satisfaction.
As her attention turned towards the sinking ship, Twilight too saw the unexpected change in course, her mood immediately brightening at the sight. Whatever could have changed the Captain’s mind, she could only wonder. And yet, that wondering came with the images of a very angry set of cat-like eyes that had tunnelled into her more often than not since her arrival in Eorzea, so little more explanation was really necessary.
Twilight gave a—somewhat humiliating, she had to inwardly note—dog-like yip towards the increasingly resigned passengers, several of whom looked toward the curious carbuncle before their eyes turned to the ship that was rapidly changing course.
“Oh, praise the Twelve,” said the elezen man from before. “The blighters are actually turning around!”
“We’re saved!” another rang.
“Death to those sahagin bastards!” another sang.
Twilight glanced at the latter, a huma- hyur, man cheering at the sight of the incoming ship. That was a name she didn’t recognize. Who exactly were the sahagin?
She shook those thoughts aside for a moment, looking towards the stricken passengers and approaching to see to their health. Though, being a carbuncle, there was little she found she could do, her presence in itself did seem to provide some comfort to the passengers, especially some of the younger ones, so that in itself was worth the effort.
Eventually, the other ship drew in close enough that shouts could be heard, shortly followed thereafter by thrown ropes that the passengers and crew of the sinking vessel quickly tied down as they prepared to receive their salvation.
As the two were drawn together, and most prepared to jump from the doomed ship, among the scant view to embark onto it was Y’shtola herself. She strode towards Twilight, her eyebrow raised quite deliberately.
“That was an exceedingly reckless move and could have easily resulted in harm to yourself. You do realize this, yes?”
Twilight sagged, not having been quite ready to receive her condemnation again…
And yet, her eyebrow did give way to a smile. “But, on this occasion, it did provide the opportunity required to see succour delivered to these people. Well done.”
She perked up immediately, though did try to restrain herself from standing up too tall in case the reckless element returned for another lecturer. Was this how Spike usually felt? Nah, he liked her lectures... probably.
As the two stood on the sloped deck, they each gazed at the passengers who were rapidly evacuated onto the second ship, most carrying little more than the garments on their backs. With the immediate danger all but over, the few remaining crew doing a final sweep to ensure everyone was accounted for, Twilight let her thoughts return to the name she’d heard a moment ago.
“Y’shtola…?” Twilight called out, keeping her voice relatively quiet. “What’s a sahagin…? One of those people mentioned them, I think they might’ve been a part of whatever caused the ship to sink.”
The woman hummed, glancing out over the sea. “A likely scenario, and an unfortunately common one with an increasing rate of occurrence.”
“Who are they?” she repeated.
Y’shtola glanced down toward the horizon with a grimace. “...To summarize them in brief, the sahagin are one of the two beast tribes that Limsa Lominsa is forced to contend with regularly. They are fish-like people who live primarily beneath the waves, though they often come ashore for the sake of reproducing. They worship Leviathan, the Lord of the Whorl, a sea serpent of nigh-on incomprehensible size.”
Twilight frowned in thought at that. Sea serpent? That brought to mind images of a peculiarly eccentric individual from her own world, a large being in his own right. Somehow, though, she doubted Leviathan would be quelled with a small act of generosity…
“They have often been in conflict with Limsa for nearly as long as any can remember. They are feared by sailors for their ability to drag the unprepared into the depths to a watery end with the skill and efficiency of a trained assassin. Efforts to make peace with them have all ended in unanimous failure… for the list of perceived wrongs on both sides of the conflict has led to constant reprisals and acts of retaliation.”
A low groan sounded from somewhere nearby on the sinking ship, and Y’shtola frowned. “More details can wait. For now, we should lend what aid we can to those in need. Doubtless, there will be wounded.”
Twilight watched her go, her frown remaining. Wrongs on both sides? Acts of retaliation? The way she spoke of them, her tone of voice betraying her clear dismay, seemed different from how they had spoken of Ifrit and the Amalj’aa. What exactly had these ‘pirates’ done? What kept a friendship between these peoples so far at bay…?
The Princess of Friendship, her heart burning for the unrealistic desire to heal the rifts of this world, found herself looking out over the sea once again in an act of melancholy.
And there, towards the horizon, she could have sworn she saw something. Two eyes, a scaly head upon which was adorned a single fin, stared at her out of the water. It lingered for but a moment before sinking beneath the waves and out of sight, as if it had never been there at all.
Sahagin…
If there was something she could do while she was here, then she had to. She needed to do something good… That man’s death couldn’t be her only legacy in this place.
It just… couldn’t…