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The night was quiet and calm, a rarity in Ishgard. The cease in snowfall and the silence of the wind gave Ser Aymeric peace as he walked the city streets with much on his mind. With the attacks of the dravanians horde growing in number each day and then the arrival of the Warrior of Light and what remained of the Scions, there was much weighing on his thoughts that he needed to sort through. Desperate to get away from his paperwork for a moment, he’d decided to take a late night stroll through the city and do just that.
As he passed through the Arc of the Humble and into Saint Reinette’s Forum on his way up to the Pillars, his thoughts wandered to the Warrior of Light herself, Lady Almor. He had only seen her for a brief moment that morning as they’d passed by the Congregation on their way into the Forgotten Knight. Though it had only been a glance, he’d noticed a difference about her, something that had never been there before. It hadn’t been in her expression, nor in the way that she carried herself for she was far too careful to let any thought of misfortune show so prominently. No, he’d seen it somewhere that was much harder to control, eve for a practiced Knightess like her or even a government official like himself.
He’d seen it in her eyes.
Though guarded and icy as ever, he’d noticed a glint of sadness shimmering in those cat-like sapphire eyes. It had slipped through her defenses when she thought her gaze hidden from the world as she looked down at the cobblestone street. She must have thought it unseen to everyone around her for in the next moment when she raised her eyes to meet Aymeric’s, it was gone, shut out by the walls of her stoic nature. She was trying to remain strong, most likely for Alphinaud and Tataru as both of her companions appeared to be in quite a misfortunate mood, hopeful as they might be to have a place to call home for little while now thanks to Haurchefant. After hearing about the true happenings of the Banquet in Ul’dah from him, of the Crystal Braves, Teledji Adeledji’s plot, the Scions and Katsum herself being framed for the murder of the Sultana, Aymeric had felt much guilt in leaving that night. How he’d wished he had remained for he could have been of some help to Lady Almor and the Scions surely. Then again, with the damaged reputation of Ishgard with the Eorzean Alliance, perhaps his presence and his allegiance to his friend would have only made things worse. Regardless of what could have happened, what was done was done and he only felt cowardly for having left so soon for the sake of his own safety.
Before he knew it, he had left Foundation behind and entered the Pillars, making his way past the House of Durendaire and the Jeweled Crozier up to the Last Vigil. Only the sound of his footsteps echoed around him as he walked, his eyes trained on the path before him as he continued to ponder over his thoughts. He wondered how much longer the defenses would hold until the dragons, with the help of the heretics, overran the city walls and began their final purge of Ishgard. How many more must die before this accursed thousand year war ends? They may have the Warrior of Light within the city wall, but that was no guarantee she would fight with them. Why would she? They were not her people and she had no ties to Ishgard, no reason to fight. That could also be said of her fighting for Eorzea too, however, though after events mentioned before, he was inclined to think she would be a bit more careful of whom she helped from then on. That thought brought a troubled feeling to his heart. She was a warrior, a knightess who fought for others and defended them valiantly whether they were her people or not, yes, but even she must be having a change of heart after the events of the past few days.
To think that such a bright ray of hope, a beacon of the light of Hydaelyn, could possibly be extinguished by the greed of the corrupt. As this thought plagued his mind, Aymeric’s eyes turned to gaze up at House Fortemps as he passed by, hoping that Lady Almor had found rest that night as he was sure she was in great need of. As he rounded the corner of the house, he suddenly stopped as a soft voice rang out into the silence.
Aymeric traced the voice up to the open shutters above him, coming from an open stairs window. He found himself rooted to the spot, unable – or perhaps unwilling – to leave though he knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop. It was obvious the woman did not know she had an audience for she sang without restraint in her words, her sadness clear in her words. As Count Edmont had no daughters or any young women as house servants, and as Lady Fortemps had passed many years ago, Ser Aymeric knew there was only one woman within the household that this could be. He’d didn’t need to see her face to know for he could hear in her voice.
Lady Almor; Katsum…
Her voice was beautiful. He had never heard such a soothing voice as he listened to her, hiding amongst the shadows of the manor to hear her unguarded song. Aymeric heard the anguish in her voice, the sadness of her broken heart. He heard her emotions that she so desperately hid from the view of others as they danced upon the silenced wind of the night. He heard the doubt of her soul being overcome by the reminder of the promises her faith had given her, remembering that no matter what hardships may come, she was never alone. Those words had made him surprisingly curious. Who was it that she spoke to? Perhaps it was Hydaelyn? No, she would have spoken her name. Maybe one of the twelve? Surely she would have said their names too if it had been. No, she’d said only ‘God’ and he wasn’t surely whom she meant by that. The way that she spoke of it reminded him of the scriptures of the Fury, of Halone’s doctrine, but there were slight differences that deterred from him assuming it was Halone she spoke of.
Regardless of whom she spoke and prayed to, Aymeric was captivated by her voice, of the song of the wounded knightess as she sought solace in her time of heartache. The Elezen man found himself closing his eyes, trying to picture the Miqo’te woman’s face and expression. What did it look like when her stoic mask was not clouding her features he wondered? How her eyes must sparkle when not hindered by the ice the warrior must don in order to up hold her stoic appearance and remain strong. He’d already agreed about her beauty with Haurchefant. The man had never stopped speaking of it before he’d ever met Lady Almor, and so Aymeric had thought surely he had begun to exaggerate. However, after seeing her for the first time that evening in Coerthas, he couldn’t agree more with the Fortemps knight. Now, he heard a different side of that beauty, one that he was quite sure no one else knew of and he counted himself lucky to have chanced upon this most opportune moment.
Then, all in a sudden moment, her voice quieted and the night was silent once more. Aymeric was broken from his train of thought, his eyes flashing open as he looked upward, expecting to see her looking down at him with some kind of expression of shock or fear. Instead, he saw nothing but a hand reach out to the shutter and pull it closed against its twin, the quiet sound of a lock turning following shortly after. It seemed she had finished her serenade and had decided it was time to retire. Ser Aymeric, on the other hand, was finding it difficult to break from his trance. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as he shook his thoughts away. What in Halone’s name was his thinking? He sounded like a school boy pining after some woman he watched pass by. In a sense, that was exactly what he was doing, but he still banished those thoughts from his mind. Lady Almor deserved more respect than that for she was truly a knightess unlike any other, a woman warrior who fight desperately to remain strong even though her heart ached as it did now.
With this in mind, Aymeric lingered a bit longer, gazing up at the window’s ledge as if to listen for any more of her enchanting voice. He waited a few moments longer before he finally managed to coax his steps forward and continue on his walk for it had gone on far longer than he had meant for it too. Lucia was probably anxious for his return before the paperwork began to pile up on his desk. He did not regret this however. He did not feel ashamed at having stopped to listen to Katsum’s singing for it truly was beautiful and had brought peace to his heart. As he made his way down to the Arc of the Venerable to turn down the stairs and make his way back to his office, he could only think of how he hoped he might hear her sing again one day. Perhaps next time she’ll know of his presence and sing freely for him? Ah, but if he were to ask, he would have to tell his secret of having listened to her tonight while she was not aware. With the fear of betraying her trust settling within him, he agreed that he could never speak of this to her, not any time soon. One day, he would tell her, but for now and for a long while, it would be his secret to keep.
At the top of the stairs, the Elezen man stop and looked back, gazing up at the window where Katsum had been singing from. He closed his eyes and prayed for her to find rest that night, prayed that she slept better tonight than she ever had before. Because she’d given him peace, he prayed for her to find it herself too on that quiet evening.
“Sleep well, Lady Almor. Sleep well.”