Chapter Text
Pike gasps for breath, tumbling out of bed and landing in a tangled heap of blankets and sweaty limbs.
Seconds ago, he’d realized something was wrong—that the drained feeling was just tiredness, but a physical drain on his aether. It was too late for him, for all of them, and Valliant had held his hand as tightly as she could while they both died. He can still feel it, his life slipping away, but he’s alive , somehow, and he can’t reckon it.
“Pike?” A voice calls, a too familiar voice. “Are you alright?”
The door opens and Elphina steps in, rubbing her eyes blearily with one hand. “Did you fall out of bed?”
Pike pulls himself to his knees, looking at her in shock. “Elphie?” he asks, brokenly. He crawls towards her. “You’re alive.”
“‘Course I’m alive,” she says. “Did something happen? I didn’t have another seizure, did—”
Her words are swallowed in a soft “oof” as Pike pulls her into a crushing hug. Twelve help him, but he can’t keep from crying as he presses his face into her hair. “Everything’s fine,” he says. “It’s perfect.”
“Did you have a bad dream?” Elphina asks, as he pulls back to look at her face properly.
Pike shakes his head. “Not quite,” he says. Then, carefully, he adds, “Elphie, what year is it?”
She gives him a look, and he can tell she thinks he’s gone crazy. “1571, same as it’s been for the last two months. Did you hit your head when you fell?”
“No, I didn’t. I’ll...explain in the morning,” he says, standing. A full year, then, until he kills Yuudai, and another six months after that until the Calamity. Selfishly, he’s glad he came back before that event, even if the weight of every other life taken still rests on his shoulders. He smiles at his sister and pats her on the head. “Love you, kiddo.”
She pouts, and her eyes narrow. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”
“Can’t I tell you I love you?” He grins. “Go to sleep, Elphie. And you’re skipping school tomorrow, okay?”
“Sweet,” she says, turning back and heading out the door. “Night, Pike.”
“Night, kiddo.” She shuts the door softly behind her, and Pike sighs softly.
Eight years of his life, gone in a flash. If it hadn’t placed him here, with his sister, before the Calamity, he would be horrified. Instead, he’s giddy . He has the chance to save so many lives, and he cannot wait to get started.
The thought of sleep doesn’t even cross his mind, as he searches his bag for ink and paper. There’s no time for that.
He has an apocalypse or two to prevent.
Thancred sighs as he leans against the tavern’s outer wall. Normally, he’d be happy to drink in the company of the Immortal Flames, fresh off a decisive victory, but he finds himself exhausted. Louisoix had asked him to remain and watch over them, making sure that the Syndicate didn’t get any strange ideas and try to disband one of the few things standing between them and total annihilation from Garlemald. Babysitting rich people had drained him of any joy to party.
He closes his eyes and lets his head hit the rough stone wall gently. Unfortunately, he’d chosen to get an inn room at the Quicksand, and would likely not find any rest there until the party had died down. Still, it was quiet enough out here, and he wasn’t above sleeping in an alleyway if he had too. He’d done plenty of that in his younger days in Limsa, after all.
“Thancred Waters?”
Thancred stiffens, his hand dropping to his knife by reflex. “I could be,” he says to the hooded figure down the alley. “Depends on why you want him.”
The figure snorts and tugs his hood down. “Lots of reasons, depending on the mood, but your personal connections are of more interest to me at the moment.” The man draws closer, and Thancred notes some of his features now. Blue hair, fluffy ears, and a pair of purple eyes that look on him with more familiarity than they should, seeing as he can’t place the man at all. He carries a sword at his side, and Thancred can see the gleam of armor just below it.
“My name is Pike L’oatel,” the man says. “I need to speak with Louisoix Leveilleur.”
“And why, Mister L’oatel, should I just take you to him? After all, your accent is…”
“Garlean?” Pike finishes, tilting his head. He gives him a smile. “I’m quite aware, Mister Waters.” The way he says Thancred’s name is too familiar, too, like an inside joke he hadn’t realized was happening. “But these are dangerous times, and you need allies where you can get them. And...I have significant information, which I believe could save many lives.”
“I’m sure you do,” Thancred says, hand falling off his blade. “I need proof of that before I bring you to Louisoix.”
Pike sighs. “Right now, Urianger Augurelt is preaching about the end of the world,” he says. “He’s right. The Empire has devised a project which will bring Dalamud crashing to the earth. Cid nan Garlond’s father tried it once before, and levelled an entire city. It will be much, much worse the second time.”
Thancred narrows his eyes. “And how have you come about this information? A bit far fetched for a civilian to know of it.”
Pike looks away. “I never said I was a civilian. My full Garlean title is Pike eir L’oatel, Frumentarius Speculatores.”
“A spy,” Thancred says. “I see. And you just had a sudden change of heart?”
“Something like that.” Pike looks back at him. “But it wasn’t spying that led me to this.” He takes a deep breath. “I am from the future. Eight years from now, in fact. I witnessed this Calamity myself. If we do not act, thousands will die.”
Thancred stares at him. Then he laughs. “The future . Oh, that is funny.”
“Believe me, I wish this were a joke. I can prove it to you, if you like. Ask me something no one would know about you. We were friends in the future.”
Thancred humors him. “Fine, then. My favorite drink, if you please.”
Pike shakes his head. “You would ask something impersonal. Favorite drink...you like a nice scotch. When you’re collecting information, you’ll order something mid shelf, but terrible—it makes you look like a tryhard, and people underestimate a man with no taste. But on your own or with friends, you’ll order a Mor Dhona peat. It has a nice sweet finish.” Pike grins. “That’s what I would say, if I didn’t know that you actually like a nice lemonade made with fresh picked lemons and just a tad too much sugar. I got good at making it for you.”
Thancred’s eyes widen. “You…” he shakes his head. There’s no way that Pike could have gathered that level of specificity just from following him or watching him for a few days.
Pike shrugs. “Like I said. We’re friends. Now, will you let me save some lives?”
Pike goes over his list, double checking every fact. He wants to be sure that he gets everything correct, so that he doesn’t end up accelerating the Calamity, or something worse. He hopes that he doesn’t draw the attention of the Ascians; he’s been trying to synthesize White Auracite, but he only ever learned how to do it after they’d lost Y’shtola, and he’d never managed a useable specimen.
When Pike sees Urianger, he can ask him about it. If he’s lucky, he’ll even be able to get Moenbryda to come out—the idea of talking her through her own research is a bit daunting, but it’ll be nice to see her alive once more.
Elphina sits next to him, flipping through a book. Pike smiles faintly and runs a hand over her head, smoothing the stray hairs. Even after all this time, he still can’t believe she’s alive, and sitting next to him. She’d even believed him when he’d told her he’d travelled through time, and hadn’t whined or complained when he said they needed to leave.
The door to the meeting room opens. Pike stands, flipping the journal in front of him closed, and walks around the table to shake Louisoix’s hand. Thancred stands next to him, quiet, giving him a long look. Pike had refused to answer any more questions after convincing him, especially on how close exactly they were.
“It is very good to meet you, Mister L’oatel,” Louisoix says.
“Please, call me Pike,” Pike says. “It’s good to meet you, too.” He looks to Elphina, who sighs and takes her book out into the hall. He knows she wants to hear about it, but Pike doesn’t know how much detail he’ll need to get into, and he doesn’t want her to listen to him talk about thousands of deaths.
“I am under the impression that you are from the future,” Louisoix replies, eyes sparkling with humor. “Shouldn’t you say ‘meet you again?’”
Pike goes still. “We’ve...never met before,” he says carefully. He doesn’t plan on telling anyone of their eventual deaths, if he can help it—it’s just not worth dealing with, when he’s going to prevent as many of them before.
Louisoix seems to either catch his meaning or accept that as reasonable, because he nods and sits down. “I suppose I can’t expect any tricks like you performed for Thancred, then. Why don’t you tell me about this coming Calamity, then.”
Pike nods. “The lesser moon of Dalamud is an Allagan construct, used to house the primal Bahamut. In one year, Nael van Darnus, who has been tempered by him, will use a tower she is already constructing to bring the moon crashing on the Cartenau Flats…”
He tells the whole story. How the aether of the Twelve is used to destroy the land. How the world is thrown into chaos and strife for five years, with the list of the dead only outstripped by the list of the missing. How it was all, in the end, a plot just to bring back a shattered god.
By the end of it, Pike feels confident that he is believed. Louisoix is pale, but he looks thoughtful, not suspicious.
“How do you propose we stop it, then?” He asks Pike, and Pike grins.
“I have detailed plan using the assets that are known to me,” he says, flipping to the next page of his journal. “I’ll need all the current members of the Circle of Knowing, Minfilia Warde, Lyse Hext, and Valliant Skye.”
“Lyse...Yda’s sister?” Thancred asks. Pike nods. “I see. And Minfilia...of course, the Echo. Who is Valliant Skye?”
“The strongest warrior I know,” Pike says. “If I remember correctly, she is currently a Corporal with the Immortal Flames. I’ll also need a Paladin soul crystal—”
“Ma’am, you can’t go in there,” Pike hears the attendant outside say, and he cuts himself off, looking to the door. “This is an order of national security—”
“The hells I can’t!” A woman replies, and Pike’s eyes widen. The door flies open, and Valliant stands there, looking much younger than he remembers her.
“Pike L’oatel!” she says thunderously. “How dare you.”
Pike blinks. “What?”
She comes up and smacks him on the back of the head, then points at him threateningly. “You come to Ul’dah and you look up Thancred first? Thancred? I cannot believe you. Four years, I’ve been your best friend, and you go running to your fuckbuddy first?”
“Valliant,” Pike hisses, coloring. Then he blinks again. “Wait a minute...you remember me?”
“There’s no way you get to time travel and not bring me along,” Valliant says, crossing her arms. “Twelve knows you would find a way to die again, tripping over a rock or something.” She turns to look at the other men in the room. “Valliant Skye, at your service. I hope this isn’t the first time you’ve heard of me.”
Pike grins, despite himself. “Like I said, best warrior I know. Well, that settles one roadblock, I suppose.”
Louisoix nods. “Fortuitous, I would say. Now, tell me the rest of your plan.”
Pike nods. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Thancred mouth “fuckbuddy,” and he has to fight to keep the blush off his face.