Chapter Text
There was grass mixed with rocky earth under her fingers. That was the first thing Ysayle noticed after waking up. The second was the acrid, almost electric smell filling her nostrils and the distant humming of… something in her ears. The murmur of flowing water accompanied it.
She opened her eyes and looked upon a small waterfall spewing water into a pond whose shores she lay on. A rockx ceiling dotted with crystals loomed above her. Further beyond, piles and more piles of poisonous-looking green clouds came into view. In the distance, a giant fortress of steel floated in mid-air, glowing in an unnatural light.
She had no recollection of this place, or how she had come to be here. The last thing she remembered was sitting in Zenith, content with the war having ended, and yet dejected—the sparse words she had exchanged with Hraesvelgr, whom she had so foolishly believed to be her mate—moogles coming by with food and their attempts to cheer her up that were doomed to fail until—until they had told her what the Ishgardians had been up to. Of Azys Lla, and that accursed archbishop and his knights, and…
She had asked Hraesvelgr to take her there. Yes. He had not wanted to, initially, but somehow, she had managed to convince him. Why he had agreed to anything she—a foolish woman who had believed herself Shiva reborn—had said she would never understand, but he had, eventually, and they had come to this place finding the barrier penetrable… and, upon seeing her former comrades under attack, a wild determination had filled her to atone for her many, many mistakes.
She had not expected to survive. Nor was there any explanation on how she had come to wake up here in Azys Lla, all on her own. She remembered falling, falling, falling; no actual impact, merely the air rushing past her as the floating isles of Azys Lla grew smaller and smaller above in the sky. Who had brought her back up? Hraesvelgr? But why had he left her here, then?
Such questions would lead nowhere with nobody to ask them. It seemed that whatever had happened had also healed her injuries, and she found she could move freely and stand up without any issues.
She had to find out what had happened after she had struck the airship, and how much time had even passed since then. For that, she needed to find someone in this godsforsaken place who was able and willing to speak to her. Perhaps the Warrior of Light, Estinien or Alphinaud were still here—though if that was the case, they hadn't yet succeeded in stopping the archbishop. Mayhap that wasn't something she should hope for, but unless Hraesvelgr was still around, there was likely nobody else. Even if the Garleans had survived her attack they would not be willing to help her, and it wasn't likely that there was anyone else left in Azys Lla, after all those years.
Regardless of whom she might find, however, she would not find them here, on the edge of an isle fallen to wilderness. A slope across the pond seemed to lead further up the isle. It was impossible to say what would await her there, but there was nothing else to it. She would simply have to go and find out.
The dry earth crunched under her feet as she rounded the lake. She did not see a point in getting wet feet. Unlike classically trained thaumaturges, her magicks only encompassed the element of ice. Fire, she had no control over and would not be able to dry herself easily with it.
Her path led her to the top of the waterfall, where the stream wound through a hole in the rock. The slope continued in a different direction, out into the open, where sparse trees stood. To think that life had flourished in this godsforsaken place for all these years—to think that not even the Allagans' wretched experiments had been able to kill this place…
It was humbling, in a way.
Movement further up ahead caught her eye. A dragon—small, compared to the grown ones she knew—trotted over the platform that lay in front of her. Hraesvelgr had warned her that there might be dragons roaming Azys Lla still, and that she was to avoid them if her path crossed theirs. That they would not show mercy to mankind. Heeding his words, she steered clear of where it walked at the outer edges of the island, and crept past it near the rocky wall on the other side, partially hidden from sight by scraggly bushes. From there, she continued further up the slope, where the aether crystals she had seen in the alcove grew into ever stranger, more convoluted forms.
Then, when the rocks lining the path receded, a vast crystal formation came into view. An ethereal glow enveloped the scene, and where it shone brightest, Ysayle just barely made out the shadow of dragon wings, wrapped up in chains. Even in this disturbing place, it was an unreal sight. Something deep in her ached as she looked upon it.
Dragons should not be held captive like this.
The path led to the crystal formation, from the looks of it. She hurried onwards, dodging the dragons prowling across the stone and through the stream until she stood at its foot. As she circled it, the dragon herself came into view properly.
Wings, stretched into a strained position for what must have been an eternity. Dark scales glimmering in a deep violet in the light the crystals gave off, and wrapped tightly into bounds generated by Allagan technology. Red eyes, slowly turning towards where she stood…
She found herself rooted to the spot, unable to move for an indeterminate amount of time as they looked at each other in silence.
This was an ancient dragon. Her eyes held the same sorrow that never left Hraesvelgr's. How long had she been here? Had the Allagans imprisoned her? How—how terrible, being captured in this bleak place for thousands and thousands of years…
“Who art thou, daughter of man?“ The dragon's voice reverberated within her mind.
Ysayle snapped out of her reverie. “I'm...“ How should she answer? Ysayle Dangoulain? That was her name, but what use was there for such things in a place like this? “I'm but a fool.“
“Then we are one and the same. I, too, was a fool, and will atone for my foolishness in this place until time itself comes to an end...“ The dragon's voice trailed off as she lifted her gaze and stared into the distant clouds.
Such a mournful voice, Ysayle thought. What kind of mistakes could prompt a being like her to condemn herself to eternal imprisonment?
“Foolish daughter of man...“
The dragon's voice startled Ysayle out of her thoughts.
“Others of thy kind have come hither not so long ago… Art thou of them?“
Others. It had to be the Warrior of Light, Estinien and Alphinaud, right? Unless the Garleans had made their way to this isle, but would they have left a captive dragon behind? Nay, knowing them, they would have sought to use her for their own gains, or slain her so that she could not interfere with their plans.
“Were they an Au Ra and two Elezen, like me?“ she asked.
The dragon bowed her head as much as her bounds allowed it. “Ones such as thee, I have not seen. He who came to see me was a horned man wielding a spear that stank of dragon blood, and yet he was accompanied by my father. However, he is no longer here…“
“Do you know where he went?“
“I do not.“
Ysayle sat down and leaned against a rock. So much for finding them and thus a way home. “What about Hraesvelgr?“
“My brood-brother? I thought I had seen him, but I no longer sense his presence in this forsaken place.“
Then there was no way out of this place she could currently see. She hadn't walked very far, nor had it been long since she had woken up, but she felt tired. Why, if the mothercrystal had smiled upon her and allowed her to survive, had she ended up here, in a dead end in a forsaken Allagan city in the sky?
If the mothercrystal had smiled upon her...
Was that it? Had it been Hydaelyn who had saved her? Ysayle had heard the stories about those blessed with the Echo returning from the brink of dead and even beyond, but she had never thought it would happen to her. What was it that Hydaelyn still wanted her to do? And why wouldn't she tell her, like she had told her the truth about the Dragonsong War?
But then, she had not told her how to end the war either, and she had still found a way to do it—or perhaps more accurately, her bumbling attempts had contributed to others ending the war in her stead. Mayhap if she stuck around in Azys Lla, her new duty would reveal itself eventually.
Either way, she didn't see any choice other than staying.
“May I ask your name?“ She craned her head up and looked at the dragon.
“I am Tiamat, of the first brood.“ Tiamat was silent for a moment before speaking up again. “Thou didst speak of my brother. I care little and less about the outside world, here in my eternal prison, but wouldst thou tell me of him?“
And so Ysayle spoke, not only of Hraesvelgr, but of herself and Shiva and the entity she had thought was Shiva, and the Dragonsong War, and Nidhogg, and Estinien and the Warrior of Light and Alphinaud… When she finished, a certain sense of calm settled on her. She had not told the entirety of her story to anyone before, not even Hraesvelgr, and it felt good to share.
Something that might have been rumbling laughter came from Tiamat. “Daughter of man,thou wouldst call thyself foolish for a desire to make things right? Like all of thy kind, thou art flawed, fallible—and yet, thine intentions are so much purer than mine or my broodbrother Nidhogg's ever were.“
“What is it that...“ Ysayle stopped. It wasn't her place to ask. She had told Tiamat everything out of her own volition, not because she had been compelled, and she would treat her the same way.
“What is it that compels me to stay here, in this Allagan prison? Much like Nidhogg long after my own mistakes, I sought revenge and committed a crime so foul that I can never hope to atone for it.“ Tiamat closes her eyes. “Once, I looked down on thy kind. You took my mate from me, and I thought you lesser, inferior, inevitably tainted, and yet… can I truly say I, my entire kind, is any better?“
“We… were the ones who started it, the Dragonsong War. And perhaps my intentions were pure, but it was innocent blood that I spilled in my ignorance. I came here to atone for my sins, but it seems that my time in this realm is not yet over.“ Ysayle rose to her feet. “I will stay here in Azys Lla until I've found out why that is. I owe it to those who died by my hand or my word. Will you allow me to come here again? Mayhap you can give me counsel.“
Tiamat laughed once more. There was something sad about a dragon bound so tightly she could not move, laughing… “Thou needst no permission to come visit, daughter of man, though I know not what counsel one such as me can give thee. A word of warning, however. Those who came in a vessel of steel and who thou didst seek to strike down are still here. I know not where exactly or what they are doing, but they have not left. I fear that they seek what should never again fall into the hands of men...“
So she had not been able to fell them even with all her might—with all of Shiva's might. What fearsome technology. “If I've not managed to destroy them, then it's all the more important that I find a way to redeem myself.“ As she considered it, perhaps there was a way to turn the Imperials' presence into an advantage. She needed to eat still, even if Hydaelyn had brought her back from the dead, and the Garleans had to have food. If she could steal enough of it, it would spare her the trouble of having to forage for anything edible in this dreadful place.
She nodded Tiamat goodbye and left to explore the island.
A certain amount of time later—it was impossible to keep track of the time in this place—Ysayle knew two things: One, there was no path off the island, and two, Allagan technology was surprisingly polite.
The orb that had called itself a guidance node patiently hovered in front of her. Unbelievable that it even still worked, after all this time.
The structure she stood next to was a teleporter, the node had said. She didn't feel good about entrusting her life—her second life, given to her by the mothercrystal—to ancient Allagan technology, but she did not see any other way. The island she had woken up on certainly wouldn't enable her to sustain herself in the long run. No, she had to do this.
She stepped up onto the platform and told the node to activate the teleporter. The sensation that followed was… odd. It wasn't completely different from normal teleporting—the tingling, the brief bit of disorientation upon reappearing—but there was something different about it that she couldn't quite put her finger on. It felt more like being grabbed and yanked away than the ebbing and flowing pull of the aether. It had not, however, harmed her in any way she could tell, and so she shrugged and and surveyed her surroundings.
This new island was far more desolate than the one she had found herself on. Where that one was home to an untamed sort of nature, even if it was twisted beyond recognition by the Allagan's foul experiments, this one seemed to consist solely of sparse rock and buildings made of steel, or whatever it was the Allagans had used.
There was, however, no sight of the Garleans anywhere. Tiamat hadn't told her where exactly they had made camp in Azys Lla. If she was unlucky, she wouldn't find them before she grew weak from hunger. Azys Lla was a vast place, and one she could not possibly explore in a day or two. She had to hope they were close by and she'd be fortunate enough to stumble across them.
She stepped off the teleporter and headed further into the island.
And fortunate she was, as she soon discovered—though it seemed exceedingly strange to think of finding an Imperial warmachina as fortune.
The steel claw floating over the rocks in the distance did not seem to have noticed her, Ysayle thought with relief. She misliked the notion of having to fight these things here and on her own. But, perhaps if she followed it around long enough, it would lead her to their camp. Surely it had to return there every once in a while? It didn't seem to be going anywhere in particular right now, aside from back and forth. Was it patrolling the area? Could magitek that appeared to have no way to observe their environment do that?
Stay or wait, she asked herself, or go and look for them herself? She could not afford to dawdle forever, if she wanted to find food before she was too hungry to go on.
Two approaching Imperials saved her from having to make the choice. The footsteps echoed off the rock loudly as one of them walked up to the steel claw, muttering something under his breath that Ysayle couldn't make out at the distance. The other stayed where he was, weapon held ready and monitoring his surroundings, while the other did something to the steel claw—maintenance or repairs, perhaps?
“Why does he even insist on keeping that level of security up?“ the maintenance worker asked. “We cleared this island, and the Warrior of Light and companions're gone, we confirmed that much. Might as well recall these things and spare us the constant trips to make sure everything is in order.“
His companion half-turned around to him. “Are you daft? Did you already forget why we're here? The Warrior of Light will be back ere long, and do you want to be caught off guard by him? No? I didn't think so.“
What they were there for? Ysayle crouched down further when the companion turned back into her direction. Why were they in Azys Lla? Surely they weren't allies of the hopefully late archbishop. Mayhap they were after Allagan technology. She had heard Garleans were keen on salvaging it, and this place was overripe for picking. Tiamat had spoken of that which must not fall into mortal hands. What fearsome device had the Allagans left in this place?
“As if these things could stop that monster,“ the first soldier grumbled. “I talked to some folks from the XIVth who fled Eorzea after van Baelsar died. He's not normal. Whatever he is will tear through some puny magitek like a hot knife through butter. And then through us, probably.“
“Our legatus is His Radiance's trusted advisor. You really think he would just let that happen?“
“Come on, finish up already. I don't like being out here.“
“Do you like being anywhere? You're such a spoilsport.“
After that, neither of them spoke again as the mechanic finished his work. When they left, Ysayle followed them at a distance.
The Imperial soldiers scurried about their camp like ants. Ysayle watched them built further fortification as well as more permanent buildings than the barracks scattered around the place. They didn't seem to have any intention of leaving, which made sense with what she had overheard earlier. It wasn't positive news, exactly; whatever they meant to do in this place couldn't be anything good, but at the same time, their presence would secure her food supply. Hopefully.
Stealing it, on the other hand, wouldn't prove easy. This close to the camp, living guards patrolled the perimeter along with the metal claws. It had been difficult even finding the ledge from which she was observing without getting caught. Even now, after watching for a while, she hadn't discovered a way to get closer, much less close enough to rummage through their supplies to find what she needed and then make it out again without getting caught. Whoever was running the camp was certainly doing a good job.
She retreated towards the structure behind her—an Allagan building of unknown purposes—and hid in a crack. If stealing from the camp itself wasn't an option, perhaps doing it outside was the answer. Was there a way to entice them to bring food out with them, or did they have outposts to which they delivered it? No, in all her time observing she hadn't seen anything of the sort. Mayhap a disguise, then? Yes… if she could get her hands on one of their uniforms, she might have enough time to find their food stores and make off with enough. Of course, once they found out what she had done, they would likely increase their security and maybe even come looking for her. She would have to take enough to last for a while. Who knew if she would get another chance?
Their patrols never seemed to head out alone. Her best option was to ambush a party of two, take one out quickly and from afar and then deal with the other one, in a place where nobody else would see. Mayhap she shouldn't have let the pair of soldiers she had followed go, but then she would have been forced to content with their warmachine as well. No, better to wait for a more suitable opportunity. Getting injured here would be a death sentence, and Hydaelyn still had a purpose for her. Probably.
And so she settled down at the ledge once more, to watch and wait. Her first observation: The Imperials' leader was very easy to make out among his troops. He emerged from a barrack not long after she had return to her watch, and his eyecatching armor immediately marked him as special when the rest of them wore naught but the standard uniform. It glowed, which seemed like an odd choice, but perhaps Garlean generals liked standing out so much they were willing to modify their equipment in that manner.
The legatus appeared to be giving his men orders; Ysayle saw them salute and then hurry off to do whatever he had asked them to do. They were well disciplined, clearly, though from what she had heard it was likely discipline built on fear and suffering. Mayhap they were but rumours, but Garlean legatii being brutal and merciless even towards their own soldiers certainly fit with what the Empire did everywhere on this star. Nothing of the sort had happened while she had looked, but even Garlean leaders couldn't simply kill their men for fun and no other reason, could they?
Either way, as the soldiers went about to fulfill their orders, one in particular caught her eye. Holding some manner of instrument, she walked past the guards and further into Azys Lla—all on her own. No companions.
If there had ever been a chance handed to her on a silver platter, it was this.
Keeping to the shadows of the buildings, she followed her past the patrols and the warmachines for an indeterminate amount of time. The path the soldier took was fortunate; it seemed relatively deserted, making it easy for Ysayle to stay in hiding until she had come far enough that nobody in camp would notice.
It was time.
She raised her hand, gathering aether, ready to attack her with icicles, then hesitated.
These soldiers… the ones she had spoken or listened to had complained about guard duty, about being here, had plainly not wanted to be here in some cases. She'd heard that the empire made a habit of forcing people from the lands they conquered into their armies. There was a very real possibility that this woman had never asked to be here.
Could she really slay her in cold blood?
She'd attacked the battleship intending to sink it. It would have killed no small number of the imperials if she had succeeded, but… attacking them one on one felt different, somehow.
Ysayle bit her lip. She needed the uniform, though…
If she assumed her Shiva form, she could easily use her ice to trap her. Immediately after thinking it, she recoiled. No. She didn't want to rely on that… construct anymore. If she wasn't Shiva, then she wouldn't use the power she had taken from her belief in Shiva anymore.
She would do it as herself.
The aether took shape under her touch and enveloped the soldier's feet, freezing them to the ground. She helped, but Ysayle was on her before she could do anything.
“Don't try anything,“ she warned. “I just need your uniform. Take it off and nothing will happen to you.“
“You! Unfreeze me right now!“ the soldier growled. “I don't know what you're playing at, but—“
“Your uniform,“ Ysayle repeated, summoning an icicle into her hand. She didn't want to use it, but the soldier didn't have to know about that.
“It's not going to help you.“
“Just take it off. The outer layer. You can keep on your underclothes.“
With a wary look at the hooked icicle, the soldier complied, shedding the outer armor. It looked like it was about the right size, at least.
“What now?“ the soldier asked. “You going to stab me to death?“
“No. Just stay put until someone finds you.“ She couldn't bring herself to do it, and besides, it didn't matter much. If they found the corpse, they would know something is up. She might as well keep the woman alive and make sure she'd be gone by the time she freed herself.
She thickened the ice until it was solid enough that it wouldn't melt for a while. The soldier had stopped in an alcove. Hopefully it would be safe from any roaming creatures…
“You won't get away with this,“ the soldier warned. “Legatus van Hydrus won't let you.“
Van Hydrus. Now she had a name to put to the armor.
The uniform fit poorly, loose in the shoulders but too tight at the hip, and the gunblade felt supremely awkward at her side. Ysayle hoped Garleans didn't tailor them well enough that it would give her away. Thank the Twelve that they wore helmets, and that the one she had grabbed was spacious enough to stuff most of her hair inside. Some of those Garleans had almost certainly seen her as herself when she had attacked their ship.
Her heart raced as she walked past the outer perimeter. One of the guards raised a hand in greeting and she responded in kind. Was that the right idea? None of the guards shouted or did anything to stop her, so she assumed it was.
They did, however, start a conversation she did not want to be in.
“Come back from patrol just now?“ the guard asked in what was most likely fluent Garlean. Blessed be the mothercrystal for providing her with the echo. She wouldn't have understood a word without it.
“Yes, it was a routine inspection… Nothing to report.“ Ysayle hoped that was about what she should be saying here. Maybe she should have stayed and watched more, maybe she should have… but there was no point to that now. She had to make the best out of what she had.
The guard leaned against a barricade and crossed his arms with a lopsided grin. “He really does keep us on our toes, eh? So many patrols. Not that guard duty is any better, of course. Did your partner run off already? Can't blame them.“
“They—“
“What exactly is going on here?“ The heavy clanking of sollerets on solid ground accompanied the voice as its owner emerged from behind the barricades. Ysayle did her best not to flinch. Out of all the people who could have come up to her, it just had to be the commander…!
“Sir!“ The soldier saluted. Ysayle did her best to copy the motion—arm crossed over the chest, then standing at attention, was that it?—and prayed that nobody would notice how clumsy it looked.
Fortunately, it seemed that van Hydrus was wholly focused on the real soldier. He crossed his arms, cocked his head a little, and asked: “I recall assigning you to guard duty. Why, then, is it that I find you gossiping with a returning comrade rather than keeping watch of your surroundings?“
“W-well, you see, I—“
Ysayle inched backwards as the soldier stammered out an apology. Being interrogated by their commander was the last thing she needed. She would never be able to fool him if he was any competent. If she wanted to have any chance at escaping from this place alive, she had to go find their food stores now.
“You needn't shuffle. Go rest, since you've just come back from patrol.“ Van Hydrus didn't look at her as he said it. Ysayle suppressed her flinch as much as possible, saluted again for good measure and walked off in what was hopefully a calm enough gait to avoid attracting attention, past the barricades and into the camp proper.
All around her, soldiers held their little conversations about this and that, while others did maintenance work. While observing, she had noticed that they prepared their food out in the open, in a makeshift kitchen. Maybe the dreadnaught's own facilities had been damaged in their battle. Either way, that was the most likely place to find food in. She walked past barracks and warmachines and soldiers, head held high and back straight and internally shaking.
Nobody spoke to her. It was fine. It was fine.
“Hey, you!“
Ysayle froze. One of the soldiers strode towards her, apron tied around her waist.
“You look like you have nothing to do,“ she said. “We ran out of stuff at the kitchens. Spoilage. Go grab what's on this list from the Gration, and be quick about it or there won't be any dinner.“
Ysayle took the slip. She couldn't read any of it. The echo didn't extend to written words. She nodded anyway, and promised to be back in a moment with what they needed to provide for the camp.
Then, with a pounding heart, she stepped into the battleship itself. The hustle and bustle of the camp grew quiet and soon vanished completely, leaving her alone with glaring magitek lights and the unsettling hum of some kind of machinery in the background.
If she were a Garlean legion intent on retrieving ancient Allagan technology, where on this ship would she be storing her food? Failing that, where would she have constructed the kitchen area?
…
…
She took a corridor at random.
“Uh… excuse me?“
The technician pulled her head out of the open panel and frowned at Ysayle. “What? I'm busy getting the Gration running again. Be quick about it.“
“I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere,“ Ysayle said. “I was sent to retrieve some things from food storage, but...“ She had not wanted to ask for help. It would look too suspicious—a supposed legionaire not knowing her way around the ship? If anyone caught on to who she really was, she would not make it out of this place alive.
She had soon found she had no choice, however. If she didn't ask, she would also not make it out of the ship alive, on account of being hopelessly lost.
“That's what you interrupt me for?“ The technician ran a hand through what little hair spilled out from under her helmet. “Did you sleep through briefing? I should write you up for that, but I hardly have the time for that either. Follow the green lights until the next intersection, then go left. If I see you slacking off again, the legatus is going to hear about it.“
“Understood! My apologies.“ Ysayle saluted. Garlean soldiers seemed to be doing that a lot. She was actually starting to get used to it…
“If you have time to apologise, you have time to do your work. And fix that uniform of yours!“
Ysayle fled before the technician took a closer look at why her uniform was so poorly fitting.
Fortunately, it appeared that her advice had been sound. The kitchen area was exactly where she had said it was, and even better, it was unattended, giving her ample time to decide what to take with her. She pushed open the door to the pantry. Rows and rows of metal cans greeted her, lined up neatly on metal shelves against metal walls.
Right. Garleans packed their food into those things. She had heard about it. Getting them open would be a challenge, but that wasn't something she had the luxury to think about right now. First, she had to figure out which ones to take, and how to smuggle them out of this place.
There were carrier bags stacked in a corner. She grabbed one of them and began stuffing the bigger types of can into it. She had no idea what they wanted her to grab and she couldn't read the labels; she might as well speed up the process. When it was full, she stood up straight and took a closer look at what she could hide in her clothes. Experimentally, she pushed one of the smallest cans into one of the uniform's pockets and shook her head. That bulge was too obvious. They would know she was trying to steal food.
Maybe if she could open some of them? There should be knives in the kitchen. It would be a good idea to steal one of those anyroad…
Once properly equipped, she returned to the storage room and grabbed a can at random, then carefully began trying to work on it. It took some wriggling, but eventually she found out how to pry the lid open. Inside, pieces of fruit swam in their own juice.
She had drunk from the stream on Tiamat's island before leaving, but seeing the food made her stomach growl painfully. She hadn't eaten since waking up… and it wouldn't be such a bad idea to eat as much as she could here, would it? The more she gorged herself, the less she would have to carry.
It took but moments to scarf down not only this can, but three others as well. Sated, she returned to the issue of smuggling enough of it outside.
The uniform sleeves were spacious enough to hold a small one each, if she was careful and didn't let them slip out. The flatter ones she could stuff into her pants—the lengthy tunic would cover them. The cold metal felt uncomfortable against her bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the discomfort of hunger.
As for the rest…
...she could freeze it in any shape she wanted to, could she not?
If one were to look closely, one might spot a soldier with oddly shaped pockets slipping away from the main host and vanishing between Azys Lla's desolate rocks.
A short while later, a soldier limped back into camp and reported having been accosted by someone looking to steal her armor.
“Welcome back, daughter of man,“ Tiamat said. “I am… relieved to see thou safe and sound.“
“Thank you,“ Ysayle replied while piling up her stolen food and encasing it in a big chunk of solid ice. Something that massive would not melt so easily, leaving her supply fresh and unspoiled for a long time. Or as long as it would last her, at least. She would have to pace herself if she didn't want to run out too soon.
Silence settled between them. Tiamat seemed to stare into the distance, with her gaze fixed on the discoloured clouds milling all around Azys Lla.
“What is it that you...“ Ysayle stopped herself. She hadn't meant to ask. It wasn't her place.
“Speak thy mind.“
If she had encouraged it, it would be fine, right? It wouldn't be disrespectful to ask.
“What is that you have done that made you decide to… stay here for all eternity?“
Tiamat stayed silent for a long time; long enough for Ysayle to begin stuttering out an apology, which was cut short by the dragon.
“Do not apologise. It is in your kind's nature to be ever curious, and you should not feel guilty for it. I will tell you...“
Ysayle moved away from her block of ice and settled against a rock. She had a feeling this would be a lengthy story.
“Once, I lived in Meracydia, with my mate Bahamut...“
Neither of them spoke for a while after Tiamat had finished. What a sad story… to be manipulated into doing something horrible—something that defiled the very person she had cherished—out of love… And the consequences could be felt to this very day—every single day spent in the icy wastes of Coertheas was testament to them.
And yet, Ysayle had no right to judge her. While her own actions had been minuscule by comparison, they had nonetheless brought suffering upon innocent people and besmirched her own good intentions. They were the same, after a fashion.
“I am sorry,“ Ysayle said. “My kind has brought suffering upon you and yours.“ Was this, perhaps, what she had been brought back for? To atone for the Allagans' sins? But what could her presence change for this ancient being?
Perhaps it was her duty to stop the Garleans from whatever it was they wanted, to prevent an ancient tragedy from repeating.
“As has mine, daughter.“ Tiamat's voice was soft, if such a thing could ever be said of dragons. “It was not thouwho hast brought the might of the Allagan armies against my consort and me. Thus, thou needst not apologise for it. I see this now, when I have not before. Though we dragons often style ourselves as wiser and more just than you, we have brought our own fair share of sorrow upon innocent mortals. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone...“
“If Nidhogg is to be believed, none of us are truly innocent. All of us bear the guilt of our forebears.“
“I do not hold this to be true anymore—and even if it is, what of it? What is done may never be undone. Would it not have honoured my dead broodsister's memory more to help excise the rotten parts of your society and rekindle what our species once had? Which is, I believe, what the others who have visited wish to do.“
To excise the rotten parts… to right the wrongs. It was an appealing thought, Ysayle thought. Tiamat was right. It would have benefitted everyone more if the guilty parties had been punished and the innocent let free to go. And perhaps that could still happen…
...but where did that leave her? What could she do to atone for her mistakes?
“What of you?“ she asked instead of thinking about that any further. “By the same logic, would it not honour your broodmate's legacy more if you went after those who orchestrated his demise and summoning? Even if it was you who conducted the summoning, those who prompted you to do it surely share part of the blame.“
For the longest time, there was no answer. “I have considered and subsequently discarded this notion,“ Tiamat said at last. “The millennia I have spent in this place have afforded me much time to think. Yet… telling thee, and hearing thou tell me in return, casteth a different light upon it. I must needs think about it further, perhaps.“
Ysayle bowed her head. “I will leave you to it, then, if you wish.“
“Yes. The cliffs up top the island should be safe for thee. The twisted abominations Allag created do not usually venture that far up.“
“Thank you, Tiamat.“
Part of Ysayle wanted to dangle her legs over the edge of the cliffs. The larger part realised that that was a terrible idea. She had survived falling once, somehow. She would not survive it a second time.
So she settled down on a rock a respectable distance away instead. It still afforded her a prime view of Azys Lla in its entirety.
As an environment, it felt oddly fitting for the Garleans to inhabit. Their soulless steel architectures would feel right at home here.
She still didn't know why they were here. Unfortunately, nobody in her earshot had said anything about it while she had been in their camp, and she couldn't exactly have asked. That said, it wasn't very difficult to figure out they wanted to claim the technology this place harboured. Ysayle wasn't one to be familiar with magitek, but even she knew that the Garleans made ready use of Allagan technology in conjunction with their own.
And the Garleans taking hold of whatever remained in this place would surely be bad news for Eorzea and the star as a whole.
Then she would stop them. The course of action she would take was clear now. Rather than wallowing in what happened, one had to make amends for it. For the trouble she had caused Ishgard, the Warrior of Light and Hraesvelgr, she would now protect Eorzea from this new threat.
But how, without Shiva's power? Even now, she was so helpless on her own, but that made no difference to what she needed to do. A way would present itself.
She turned her head. From where she sat, she could barely make out Tiamat's cage. Should she tell Tiamat? But she had asked for time alone, and Ysayle didn't think she would be willing to break her cage to help her. Didn't think she wanted her to, either. This was her atonement. If she delegated all work to Tiamat, what exactly would she have done to earn it? No more than if she made Shiva do it all.
No, she would go on her own. It wasn't as if Tiamat would even be able to help her scout. Dragons were not given to stealth, after all, and she needed more information if she was to find a way to chase the imperials out of Azys Lla.
She had eaten her fill of food. There was no reason to dally any more.
With one last glance at the faint glow of Tiamat's prison, she headed off to the teleporter.
“...longer we stay here, the more likely the Warrior of Light will come get us,“ the imperial said. His voice sounded muffled through his helmet, and Ysayle couldn't see him from where she sat, wedged into a rift on the side of a ruined building, but she could hear him clearly enough.
“Do you think I don't know that?“ his companion replied. Ysayle didn't hear footsteps. They must have stopped close to her hiding spot. “The legatus isn't going to let us leave until we did what we came here for, that's just a fact. Complaining about it isn't going to help any.“
“Then they need to hurry up on the central platform!“ the first imperial groused. “I know they want to play it safe and all, but we don't have the luxury for that, do we? We're not going to get our hands on it if we wait long enough for that monster to come back and finish us off.“
“He can't be that bad—“
“Listen, I faced him when they were here, and he's worse. Bastard's like an eikon all of his own. I'm telling you, if he comes back for us, we're all screwed. I barely escaped alive as it is.“
Footsteps, and their voices grew fainter as they moved away.
Ysayle settled back in her hiding spot. So they hadn't claimed what they came here for just yet. That was good. She still had time, then.
Mayhap she ought to check out that central island and see if she could disrupt their operation there? For they were right. If the Warrior of Light returned, they would falter regardless of what they were trying. Even if she lacked the strength to chase them off on her own, it was within her power to stall them.
Or she could become Shiva again. This place thrummed with ambient aether. It would be enough to allow her to transform, but… no. She had done her misdeeds under the fake banner of a Shiva that had never been Shiva in the first place. She would do this as herself.
There was plenty of mischief to be had with merely the conventional ice she could call upon, after all.
The two soldiers had long gone, and she didn't hear anyone else in the area—only the omnipresent hum of Allagan machinery that somehow still ran after all these years. Ysayle crept towards the gap in the building's wall and stuck her head out, ready to pull it back in at the slightest sign of company. There wasn't anybody in sight, though, so she slipped out completely.
How to go to the central island, then? There had to be a teleporter somewhere, surely. The question was whether it still worked. The Garleans had their airships. They would be able to come and go as they pleased even without the teleporter. Ysayle wouldn't be so lucky.
The teleporter between Tiamat's island and this one was located at the closest edges towards each other. The Northwestern edge of this island would thus be the most reasonable place to start searching. With the looming husk of the central part of Azys Lla in sight, Ysayle set off to find her transportation.
It took longer than she wanted to, in the end. The Imperials hadn't exactly stopped sending out patrols. Hiding from them took precious time that she didn't have, not if she wanted to stop them from achieving their goals ere it was too late. She would have to return to her food stash soon as well, and…
“Don't move. Don't even turn around,“ a voice behind her said. “I have my gunblade trained on you, and I'm not the only one. Don't try anything. We are authorised to kill you, if we must.“
Ysayle froze. Gods damn it. She hadn't been careful enough. From the man's words, they were not out to kill her. Which meant that they wanted to capture her instead.
That was worse. She had been prepared to die. She had not wanted to fall into their hands and be made to play a part in their twisted schemes.
There had to be a way out…
“What do you want from me?“ she asked experimentally.
“Silence, witch, or I'll shoot you.“
Not that, then. If there truly were several gunblades trained on her, and she wasn't willing to risk testing that, she wouldn't be able to get out of here with her magic, or her transformation, even. She'd have a bullet through her skull before she could get anywhere.
But she wasn't willing to go along with them either. Frankly, death would be preferable, though it pained her that Tiamat would never know what had happened to her. She took a deep breath and reached out to the aether to call forth the ice…
...when a dart hit the back of her neck and spread numbness all through her limbs. But moments later, her vision faded. The last thing she felt before passing out was her limp body crashing to the ground.