“Among the churning waves of the Rhotano sea, the old island of Vylbrand stood, with the city of Limsa Lominsa rising tall and proud along its southern shores. A bastion of ‘civilization,’ beset on all sides by hostility, resentment, and age-old grudges no one was willing to put down in place of friendship.”
Twilight’s eyes studied the imposing sight of Limsa Lominsa in the distance. She had harboured many expectations about the waterborne city of pirates, but the staggering beauty of it was not one of them. It was like an army of towers carved from the pearly white stones of the coastline, connected together via sturdy bridges and lengths of rope that made it all look almost like one massive ship.
A fitting descriptor, she was led to believe. According to Y’shtola’s curt explanations of the nation’s long and bloody history, the people of Limsa Lominsa considered themselves to all be part of one big crew, and that the whole of Vylbrand was their ship.
If only it weren’t a pirate ship.
She was sitting on the railing at the bow of the ship, feeling the salty winds wash over her glamoured body. Y’shtola stood a few feet behind her, eyeing the city with an unreadable expression. The two hadn’t spoken much since the unexpected encounter with the sinking vessel, as much of their time had been spent bringing aid to the wounded.
Things had only recently quieted down, with those wounded that could be saved recovering below decks while the crew brought the ship into port as quickly as possible. The Captain from before had helped save the poor souls, but that didn’t mean he wanted them on his ship any longer than was necessary; a fact he made sure everyone knew at every turn.
After a few moments of silence, Y’shtola’s eyes focused on Twilight. “I know I have said this before, but given where we are bound, it bears repeating: once we are within the city, you are to stick close to my side, and not speak. Follow diligently until we reach the Admiral’s office. While others may wave off your capability for speech, carbuncles are far more commonplace in Limsa than in the other city-states due to the presence of the Arcanist’s Guild. As such, the people of Limsa Lominsa will be aware that it is not the norm for a carbuncle to speak.”
Twilight frowned, turning back to Y’shtola. “The Arcanist’s Guild?”
Y’shtola nodded. “Aye. They tend to several bureaucratic matters, but also aid what counts as law enforcement for Limsa in investigations, routine inspections, and other such activities.”
Twilight hummed, her thoughts wandering briefly to her own arcanist spellbook. Maybe it would be prudent to stop in at this Guild and see if she could learn anything more about the discipline?
Y’shtola, as if sensing the train of thought, put on a smile. “I know that look. Rest assured, should there be sufficient time, we may stop in at the guild for a time. A primer from the creators of the art would serve you better than the purely theoretical experience Mhitra could provide.”
Twilight relaxed a little at the light tone in Y’shtola’s voice.
Before the two could say anything else, a voice bellowed from somewhere near the heart of the ship. “We’ll be pulling into port any moment now! Get your things and prepare to disembark!”
Y’shtola turned away from Limsa. “Come. We’ve not the time to waste.”
Twilight watched Y’shtola march away to disembark, then briefly turned back to the city, her ears drooping.
“Sahagin from the seas. Kobolds from the crags. Pirates from within. A jewel of spilled blood surrounded by beautiful cerulean and verdant green. Held together only by the iron will of one woman at the wheel…”
Her eyes traced the shape of the tallest of the city’s majestic towers. It was almost intimidating in scale, making her feel even smaller than normal.
“I could only hope that I wouldn’t add any more blood to that tapestry. I’d spilt enough already…”
Without another word, Twilight hopped from the railing and scampered after Y’shtola, ready to set foot in the city of pirates.
Twilight followed on after Y’shtola dutifully and silently, both being mutually exclusive concepts for the time being. For the most part, the people of the city didn’t seem to pay either of them any mind, and it was little wonder why when she spied more than a few ‘other’ carbuncles following their masters quite happily.
She didn’t like the thought of being seen as anybody’s pet, but it was certainly a good way to remain inconspicuous…
From the docks they marched their way through several long strips filled with various merchants peddling their wares as peoples of all kinds were more than happy to throw coin at whatever took their fancy; Lalafell, Hyur, and the other races she’d come to expect from this land. Surprisingly, she even saw individuals from other species likewise conducting trade. There was a couple that seemed almost rat-like in appearance, while another individual was a diminutive fellow whose head appeared to be fully enclosed in a gas mask of some kind, enthusiastically going on about something to do with ‘gobbie booms.’
The most unexpected thing was a solitary figure that, based on the brief glimpse afforded to her on the ride over, appeared to be sahagin. There were other figures incredibly similar as well, whom she briefly mistook for more of the seafaring race, but upon getting closer she realized they were something else entirely. Unless some sahagin simply had large horns on their heads in a similar case to that between unicorns and other such ponies.
Whatever the case was, it did her heart some small good to see friendly trade existed in any form between their peoples. Maybe things weren’t as bad as she’d been led to believe…?
And yet, a small and recently agitated, pessimistic part of her brain noted that it was likely an exception rather than the rule…
The markets eventually gave way to a large aetheryte plaza, not unlike the one she’d witnessed in Gridania, though absolutely packed to the point of bursting. If there was a heart to the city, she was clearly looking at it. There were bards playing instruments and regaling adoring crowds with merry tunes, dancers in… questionable outfits demonstrating their skills, and a whole manner of other curiosities to study.
She did have to wonder why there were so many maids…
Y’shtola, for her part, seemed content to ignore any distractions and instead moved past the giant crystal and into an interior space guarded by several stern-faced individuals in yellow jackets. One of the guards was standing by, if Twilight wasn’t mistaken, an elevator leading further up into the structure.
“Archon Y’shtola,” the man greeted with professional familiarity. “I am to understand the Scions of the Seventh Dawn have continued business with the Admiral?”
“So the missive was received. Good,” the miqo’te responded. “I trust there is little change since my departure to Thanalan.”
“I’m just here to guard the elevator.”
“Ever a pressing matter, truly. But yet, if she is free, I would appreciate an audience.”
“Aye, you are expected. Go on up.”
She gave the man a nod and gestured for Twilight to follow her as the elevator doors parted. As they made their way within, the man finally seemed to take notice of the lavender carbuncle with a frown.
“I hope your beast won’t cause any trouble. I didn’t take you for an arcanist at that…”
“As you said, you guard doors, I suggest sticking to your skills,” she tersely retorted as the elevator doors closed, getting a displeased glare but no further comments. The elevator began to move upwards, giving the two a brief time alone.
Twilight stood awkwardly next to the woman, absentmindedly tapping a paw.
“...That was a little… mean.”
Y’shtola sighed. “I apologize if I am coming across as… tense at present, but I have spent much time among the peoples here, and I know enough to remain guarded in their presence. Especially when I have something to hide.”
“I hope I’m not making things harder…”
“Oh, you undoubtedly are. But at least you will make things more interesting.”
The disguised mare wasn’t sure how to take that statement…
“Now hush, I do believe our journey is concluded.”
The doors parted, moving aside to reveal a large stone chamber adorned with windows allowing the sun’s rays to brightly illuminate the interior space, the walls between decorated with red banners depicting a ship with a draconic figurehead. At the far end was a staircase on either side of a platform that further led to a large set of double doors that, if Twilight was a betting pony, she would guess led into the Admiral’s office.
Y’shtola moved out of the elevator, striding for those doors as Twilight followed on once again. The guards outside saw them coming, these ones in a dark red uniform, and gave brief nods before admitting them into the adjoining room.
Within was a sizable chamber, a red carpet leading from the door to a large wooden desk with iron fittings keeping it bolted to the ground. Behind that was a curved window overlooking the sea, a great expanse of blue with not a speck of land in sight, just the gentle swaying of the ocean.
And there, looking out over her dominion, was a white-skinned roegadyn woman in a heavy black coat with two flintlock pistols holstered at her hips. Another man of the same species stood at her side, his outfit signifying him as being someone of significant rank in the city’s local forces. He was the first to notice their entrance, turning to regard them with a stroke of his misty white beard.
“Admiral, it appears visitors have come aboard.”
“One who is oft a passenger of our great vessel, one should think,” the Admiral replied in turn, though still looking out across the sea. “The Scions are ever welcome in our halls, not that you were gone from our deck for long, Archon.”
“My duties bade me return to our headquarters, as it now would have me resume my work here,” Y’shtola responded. “Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, I do believe we have matters to discuss.”
“Indeed? Then, by all means, my ear is yours.” Finally, Merlwyb turned around to regard the woman with an expectant glint in her silvery eyes. “Out with it, I would know your purpose today.”
Y’shtola nodded. “As you may be able to guess, my concerns are, as ever, centred on the conflict between Limsa Lominsa and the beast tribes that are her neighbours. Yet ere I would discuss such matters, there is a smaller point that must needs be addressed.”
Twilight almost jumped in her skin when Y’shtola looked down at her. She tilted her head curiously but didn’t say a word.
Merlwyb quirked an eyebrow. “I was curious about that. Since when had you taken up the art of arcanism?”
Y’shtola shook her head. “I have not. Twilight, if you would dispel the glamour?”
Merlwyb’s expression hardened in scrutiny. She folded her arms over her chest. “Glamour?”
This time, Twilight did jump. She looked back and forth between Merlwyb and Y’shtola, confused. Wasn’t she supposed to keep her true form hidden?
“Worry not. The Admiral is a trusted ally, and I would rather not keep secrets from her,” Y’shtola clarified with a comforting smile.
Oh. Well, that explained things. Twilight took a moment to gather her thoughts. Then, with a thought and a brief channelling of magic, the glowing form of the lavender carbuncle vanished in a poof of swirling smoke. When it parted, Twilight the alicorn had returned to the world.
Naturally, Merlwyb was surprised. She blinked, eyes wide. “Curious. Would you care to explain?”
“First, introductions,” Y’shtola urged, keeping her eyes on Twilight.
Twilight held her head high, though she couldn’t bring herself to meet the admiral’s gaze. There was a palpable aura around the towering woman, and it was intimidating. Just from the calmness of her voice and the easy readiness of her stance, Twilight could sense that this was not a woman to be taken lightly.
“My name is Twilight Sparkle,” she finally introduced. “I’m an… associate of the Scions.”
“I have not heard of you, nor of anything like you,” Merlwyb noted thoughtfully.
“She is only recently arrived in Eorzea, and is accompanying me by my request,” Y’shtola stated, finally turning back to the Admiral. “Thus far she has given me no cause to doubt her motives.”
Merlwyb frowned. “Mayhap that is true for you,” she said slowly before turning to Twilight. “I am Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, admiral of the Maelstrom and Limsa Lominsa. If Y’shtola trusts you, I shall trust in her judgment. But be that as it may, I’d rather not have unknown elements ambling about my city. Explain yourself.”
Twilight flinched from the blunt tone of the Admiral’s voice. She held her ground, though, keeping her head up. “I’m a Princess of Equestria,” she reminded herself. “And I am talking to the leader of another nation. I have to conduct myself appropriately.”
With another deep breath, she was finally able to meet Merlwyb’s gaze, and launched into her story. Merlwyb listened intently, only ever speaking up to ask for clarification on certain matters. Twilight wasn’t sure how much to speak of, or what to hold close to her chest, so for the time being she chose to keep the fact she was from a different world off the table, settling instead to say she was from a land far away. She still placed emphasis on the importance of her Element of Harmony, and of her alliance with the Scions in the hopes of retrieving it.
When she was done, silence fell over the room. Merlwyb considered the story for a moment, her eyes closed and her arms crossed over her chest. The taller man beside her remained quiet, hands behind his back and his expression unreadable.
After a few seconds, Merlwyb nodded, opening her eyes. “Your story is remarkable, Miss Sparkle. I have sailed across the length and breadth of Hydaelyn’s oceans, yet never once have I heard tell of this distant home of yours. But, as I said, if Y’shtola trusts you, then I trust her.”
Twilight breathed a small sigh of relief.
Merlwyb turned back to Y’shtola. “That being said, I doubt that you travelled all this way merely to introduce me to your new comrade.”
Y’shtola’s expression darkened. “You would be correct. As always, I am here to lend what aid I can in the conflict with the beast tribes. Has aught changed in my absence?”
Merlwyb sighed, shaking her head as her eyes drifted down to her table. “Not so much with the kobolds. Rumours have spread of movement near their mines, but nothing that can be substantiated at present. Of more immediate concern is the recent string of raids from the sahagin.”
Twilight perked up at that. “We saw some of that coming in. Our ship passed by another that had been raided.”
Merlwyb grimaced. “I see… Damned fishbacks.”
Y’shtola’s frown deepened. “Do you know aught of what has caused these attacks, or of which faction is perpetrating them?”
“Nay, nothing of the sort, save that this group is not particularly large. Their attacks have relied heavily upon stealth and surprise by all accounts, with only a handful of sahagin present for each raid.”
“They have been preying on lone vessels, particularly the smaller ones,” the taller man explained, his voice old but wizened. “We suspect this group lacks the numbers for much more than that.”
“Nevertheless, ‘tis a troublesome nuisance bringing harm to my people. I would see it brought to an end as soon as possible,” Merlwyb stated, her hand curling into a fist at the mentioning of the sahagin’s victims.
Twilight looked down, her thoughts swirling. There was presently no known reason for the attacks, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. The sahagin must have had a good reason for lashing out like this. Some perceived slight or a grudge held over a past wrong, obviously. From what little Twilight knew of Limsa’s history, it was the only explanation that made any sense.
But she also knew that the odds of this conflict being resolved peacefully were slim to none. At least by the powers that be…
That being said…
She looked up at the admiral, her jaw set. When she spoke, she kept her voice level and professional. “Have you tried to open a dialogue with these sahagin?”
“Not as of yet,” Merlwyb said with a grimace. “There have been other concerns on-shore as of late that have drawn our attention. The kobold’s movements being one, along with a recent span of kidnappings centred around Sastasha.”
Twilight briefly glanced back to Y’shtola. “Then… maybe you would allow me to volunteer to speak with them?”
Merlwyb’s eyes latched onto Twilight, narrowing with scrutiny. “Come again?”
Twilight flinched under that gaze, but pressed on. “I… Where I’m from, I’ve been embroiled in politics for a while—though, I admit, nothing quite like this. Still, as I am a neutral third party, maybe these Sahagian would be more open to holding a dialogue with me? They have no grudges against me, after all. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I can even convince them to stop the attacks and try to find common ground with you?”
Merlwyb closed her eyes for several long moments. When she spoke, there was a fond sort of longing in her voice. “If only it were so easy. Believe me, Miss Sparkle, when I say that I wish it were possible to put a permanent end to this meaningless bloodshed without firing another shot. But alas, ‘tis not so. The hatreds between our peoples, however unjustified, run deep as the sea itself. One cannot simply sit across the table from their enemy of centuries with tea and crumpets and bring such a long-lived conflict to an end so simply.”
If the Admiral’s statement was enough to discourage Twilight, then Y’shtola’s follow-up was enough to outright demoralize her. “There is also the matter of tempering. Many sahagin leaders have long been under Leviathan’s thrall. Such individuals cannot be reasoned with, no matter how fervent or earnest the supplications. Their will is bound by the Lord of the Whorl, and they will be compelled beyond their own will to draw others into the fold, no matter what.”
Twilight turned to Y’shtola, her ears drooping. “Are things really that bad?” she asked. Her mind wandered back to those poor souls who had been tempered by Ifrit, made into his loyal slaves in a stream of blue fire. If all of the Sahagin were like that, then…
Suddenly, a memory came to her, of her brief time in the Waking Sands, when Thancred had returned.
“Sorry I’m late, but I did say I would be right behind you.”
“Thancred, that’s fine,” Twilight replied, somewhat relieved by the arrival of a face she knew to be friendly. “Did you help those soldiers we were with?”
“Uh… They… are no longer afflicted…”
Twilight’s ears perked up, her eyes lighting up with hope. “But isn’t there a way to cure the Tempering?” she asked, her wings ruffling against her sides. “Those soldiers Ifrit tempered. Thancred told us they weren’t afflicted anymore when he joined us in the Waking Sands, remember?”
The silence that followed was damning. The hope Twilight felt sputtered and died almost instantly. Y’shtola looked down at her with a regretful frown, while Merlwyb’s brow had furrowed with stern dismay.
“...Has there been some new discovery made that you did not see fit to share with me, Y’shtola?” the admiral asked.
Y’shtola was quiet for a moment. She turned away from Twilight, her eyes hidden by her hair. Slowly, she shook her head. “Nay, admiral… The matter of the tempered remains as it ever has.”
Twilight looked back and forth between them, confused and concerned. She took a tentative step toward Y’shtola. “Y’shtola? What’s going on? …What aren’t you telling me?”
Y’shtola didn’t look at her.
Merlwyb closed her eyes for a moment. “...Those men and women who have been tempered by a Primal are tempered for life. For such victims, there is no cure… save a swift and painless execution.”
Twilight gasped, taking a step back. Her eyes flew wide, her ears drooping. It felt as if a sack of bricks had just been slammed into her chest. Her mind wandered again to the tempered flame soldiers. She recalled the fear in their voices as some begged for mercy, she remembered the despair in the eyes of the sergeant, and his resignation as the flames washed over them.
A horrible sense of realization fell over her, and her knees almost buckled beneath her. All of those people are dead now?
“But… but Thancred said…” she stammered in denial, shaking her head. But she couldn’t even finish the sentence. Thancred himself had sounded distressed when he delivered the news, she recalled. And now she knew why.
Y’shtola spoke up a moment later. “I suspect he spoke as he did to spare your feelings. But his good intent has served to mislead you. On his behalf, I apologize…”
Twilight stared down at the floor, her eyes wide and unfocused. Slavery answered with death? Was that truly the only recourse these people had? It was wrong. It made her sick to her stomach even thinking about it. Those soldiers had done nothing wrong! They didn’t deserve to die like that! She fell to her haunches, screwing her eyes shut.
A moment later, Y’shtola sighed before turning back to the admiral. “Forgive me, but I fear it may be for the best if we cut this meeting short.”
Merlwyb sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. “Very well. Though I harbour no hopes of a peaceful resolution, I will still make an effort to open a dialogue with this sahagin faction regardless. With luck, we may at least learn why they have taken to attacking us. Can I count on you to be present for this discussion?”
Y’shtola nodded. “Aye. I would insist on coming had you not asked.”
Merlwyb relaxed before falling back into her chair. “Good. Now go. I believe your new friend needs some privacy,” she said before turning to the tall roegadyn at her side. “Have rooms prepared for them in the aftcastle.”
“Right away,” the towering man gave his admiral a sharp salute before stepping past Y’shtola and Twilight, his heavy footfalls making the floor tremble just slightly as he passed.
Y’shtola knelt down by Twilight’s side, placing a hand on her back. “Twilight?”
Twilight did not answer. She barely even noticed the gesture. Her eyes were still unfocused. She saw the soldiers being tempered over and over again in her mind. Grotesque images of guillotines and executioner’s blades began to filter into her mind, and she shuddered in revulsion and dismay.
She barely even noticed as Y’shtola guided her out of the room, and only had enough presence of mind to restore her glamour as they left the admiral’s office and descended back into the city.
Compared to the inn rooms of the Carline Canopy, those provided by the Drowning Wench were far more cobbled together. Splintering timber that evoked the cabin of a sailboat with decor to match. It definitely made for a more… ‘tailored’ experience, one that many a visitor might call uncomfortable. But for the residents of Limsa Lominsa, such surroundings were probably expected, if not favoured, by the general populace.
But that was of little consequence to the despondent alicorn in the room, pacing around as if lost in the winding streets of Ul’dah. In this case, it was her mind she was wandering in, with her guardian all but helpless to stop it.
“It’s all just… lies and death and… more lies!” she shouted, placing a hoof on her temple in some vague attempt to keep her mental gymnastics from bursting through her skull. “Those people, those good people, all gone!? After Ifrit… They just…!?”
“Twilight, you must calm down,” Y’shtola said gently, yet with an unmistakably stern edge. “These walls are not so thick.”
“Oh-ho, afraid of everyone hearing truths,” she accused aimlessly. “Let them hear, let everyone hear how we’ve failed to save everyone and only left death everywhere I’ve been since coming to this place! Whether Ifrit or the garleans-”
“None of which you hold the blame for,” Y’shtola rebuked. “Forgive us for giving you a false impression, but this was what Thancred wished to spare you. As tragic a truth as it is, until the day a cure might be found, it is a necessity.”
“I’m sure they are all so glad to hear that! That their own friends executed them instead of, of… Gah! I don’t know! Don’t you have a concept of hospitals? Psych wards? Dear Celestia, even a prison would have been better! Anything but… that…!”
The miqo’te gave a tired sigh. “All such methods have seen attempts in the past. But so long as the tempered live, their reverence of the primals drives them to act against their fellow man, and the aether that twists their souls will, in time, twist even their mortal flesh. And as you know, the faith of the tempered will further empower the Primals who enthralled them. This leads to but more tempered and further tragedy. It was a hard lesson to learn, but we have learned it.”
Twilight stopped, her head drooping as she brought in a long, laboured breath before releasing it into the stale air. Her body shook, her wings sagged at her sides and tears stained the fur on her cheeks.
She simply couldn’t accept it. That this world was so broken, that it couldn’t be fixed. If she just had her magic, her friends, Celestia’s much-needed advice… If she just knew what to do… She was supposed to know what to do…!
“How could this happen…?”
Y’shtola slowly sat down at the end of the bed, giving Twilight a long but sympathetic stare. “Understanding the primals is one of our primary objectives, alongside opposing the ascians that spur their summoning. Those that stole your crystal have toyed with the peoples of this realm for time beyond our records. And yet, even after all that time, and all they have done, we understand all too little about our foe.”
“It’s not just them though, is it…?”
“Oh?”
“I saw it in the Admiral’s eyes…” she whispered. “When she spoke about the sahagin, even when she decided to let us talk to them… She didn’t really want you to. She doesn’t think it could ever work, she doesn’t want to even try! She expects us to fail and come slinking back so she can start shooting again!”
“Twilight, the Admiral is a strong leader, but a complicated one. Her priority is to lead her people through whatever storm comes their way, and she does so admirably.”
“And where do those people outside come in? The ones they call beasts like they’re just animals!”
“...Often, they don’t. Many Lominsans fear the sahagin and kobolds, and would sooner see them ejected from the island even should an olive branch be extended.”
“But that’s wrong!”
“I know.”
A silence fell over the pair, the alicorn steadily letting the woman’s words sink in. She turned to finally face her, drying her tears and meeting her gaze.
“...You actually agree with me?”
“You truly thought I wouldn’t? I know the flaws of the Admiral and her crew all too well,” Y’shtola noted with a frown. “She means well, but fear and suspicion run rampant. And where once a period of peace seemed plausible after tireless work, it was the pirates of Limsa Lominsa who shattered it when they stole land and resources from the kobolds.”
“...But why? When things are so bad because of the fighting, why would they do that…?”
“As I said, fear. Atop a greed all too familiar to man,” she sadly explained. “All too often I feel the world around me is but a basket of screaming, tantruming children, and I the mother whose guiding words fall upon deaf ears.”
At that, Twilight couldn’t help but let loose a small giggle.
“...Did I say something amusing?”
“Oh, I’m sorry…” Twilight chuckled despite herself. “You just… I can really see you as a mother. A really stern, grumpy one. You give that vibe a lot.”
“With cheek like that, I am like to send you to bed without your supper,” Y’shtola snarked in turn. “But I will endeavour to take it as a compliment, despite the unending frustration.”
Twilight’s newfound smile fell a little, a small sigh escaping through her lips.
“Do you really think it’s hopeless? Then aren’t we just helping these people keep fighting and killing?”
“As wronged as the beast tribes have been, we cannot leave the innocents living here to the mercy of the primals taking advantage of all our suffering. Their gods care not for their plights, just the aether they can gorge themselves upon.”
“I guess if those sahagin and kobolds are all tempered now, there’s not really much of a choice for anyone anymore…”
“Not for those poor souls, no. But there is some hope, I do believe that,” Y’shtola told her. “Not every member of their respective races have fallen prey to such a fate. There are sahagin clans who wisely steer clear of Leviathan’s influence, and there are hundreds of kobold orders, too many for Titan to claim in their entirety.”
“If some know the primals are bad, then couldn’t we talk with them…?”
“When we approach the sahagin, the hope is we will encounter such. The tempered are beyond reasoning, but others may be amenable to words spoken in earnest. Alas, even those unaffected by their gods hold deep hatreds for lominsans, a mutual sentiment. Our mission now may bring about a lull in hostility, but it will not stop it.”
“What would it take?”
“The total defeat of the primals, through methods yet unknown to us,” she replied. “And a way of bridging the gap between our peoples after the fact. Only achievable, I fear, by either great societal change for us all, or perhaps a common foe far greater than that of even Garlemald. At least as they now stand.”
“There’s so much hatred here… I mean, I know from experience it’s not easy to get along with everybody… Back home, there are people called the changelings. They attacked us, and we haven’t been able to make any kind of peace since that day. It’s not quite like this, so widespread, but still, I believe we might one day change that.”
“As is the mission of the Scions, even should the process take far beyond my lifetime,” Y’shtola stated. “But despite her flaws, of which she is aware she possesses, I do believe the Admiral would do the right thing if things fell into place. History has taught much, and she alone has the power to sway the great ship that is Limsa Lominsa. All we can do is ensure the day comes for her to make that choice.”
“I guess so…”
“Despite my misgivings, I do retain hope. And so must you. For a kinship with your ‘changelings,’ and for all peoples of La Noscea to come together as a single crew to man this ship.”
“I hope so. I’m… sorry I shouted.”
“Tis no matter, we should not have hidden the truth,” Y’shtola apologized once more. “Now, if we wish to make even the smallest dent in these-”
“Friendship problems?”
Y’shtola gave her a curious smirk. “...Ahem, indeed, ‘friendship problems’, then we must be at our best come the morrow. In that regard, let us work on your magic. Further attunements to the aetherial currents of the realm might also be prudent, lest you wish your wings to remain but ornamental.”
“Aheh, I think flight would be good…” She did NOT fancy a repeat of her near-plunge into the ocean… “And I think my magic is getting easier. I’m hoping with a little more practice I might be able to adjust my usual spellcraft.”
“I would be curious to see it,” Y’shtola responded. “I can only imagine how different your applications must be.”
“Oh, I could write you a whole essay or twenty-six on it! Transfiguration, teleportation, conjuration…”
“Let us keep to the tome for now,” the miqo’te suggested with an amused smile. “You know the usage of ruin, but I feel as though you would benefit from more supportive spellcraft.”
Twilight nodded, recalling a crucial moment in the battle with Ifrit where she, somehow, managed to call forth some small amount of healing magics upon a certain adventurer friend of theirs…
“I think so. What was it called… physick?”
“You would be correct. Are you ready to begin?”
Twilight gave her a genuinely excited smile. “Trust me, when it comes to learning new things, I am all over it every step of the way!”
“Then let us begin…”