Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘...Is that it? Is that all that awaits?’

The sound of a goblet crashing to the ground, ringing in the quiet of the room as a young woman struggled to breath.

An angry cry and the sound of steel meeting flesh. Once to cut down an ambitious and wicked man. The second time to render a protector without his arm in the wake of an untimely death.

‘No... No more. Enough…’

A painful betrayal by those who swore to defend Eorzea, only to line their own pockets with gil at the first opportunity presented to them.

Their friends stayed behind, one-by-one, to allow the others to escape the scheme of those who plotted against their ruler. Branded as traitors and schemers attempting to poison the minds of those in power.

Yda. Papalymo. Y’shtola. Thancred. Minfilia--

A broken look on a young man’s face in the wake of his idealism shattered, forced to leave and find shelter in another broken city-state.

‘Open your eyes. Look. Do you see now? Do you see?’

Serve… Save… Slave… Slay… And for what? Only to be betrayed by a group of cowardly merchants and their bought off Crystal Braves?

The thought made their blood boil. Oh, how they wished it was their rapier that cut down that smug little snake instead!

Perhaps they are a little cynical and vindictive, but with someone like their better half in charge…

Fray couldn’t help but feel worried. Better to act as the sword and shield of their shattered heart until Ayaka opened her eyes and saw the truth. Eorzea was draining them, but Kugane… It would be better to go back to Kugane and leave this wretched place behind.

Such a stubborn girl though. She never should have ridden that boat across the sea to this foreign land, but now she feels like Eorzea is her responsibility and would refuse to quit this place once and for all.

Perhaps they could persuade her… Whether it be through words or actions, Fray would make sure no one would take advantage of them again.

‘Hopefully it won’t come to that,’ Fray thinks, staring at the greatsword on Ayaka’s back as she runs towards the source of that cry for help. But if deadly force is required…

Fray chuckled quietly to themself, recalling an earlier thought. Stubborn girl indeed, but that was one of the things about her that Fray liked. They just hoped that her stubbornness wouldn’t cause any dire change of plans.

For now though, Fray will teach her to harness their power, even if it means taking on this simulacrum of another victim of those abusing their powers. To become the teacher she wants.

And if, by the end of this, Ayaka wants to leave… All she needs to do is ask and Fray will deliver onto that promise.

Chapter Text

“Ahhh, now that is the Ayaka I’ve longed to see!” Fray says, sounding gleeful underneath the armor she wore as the monsters fell to her blade.

In truth, Ayaka doesn’t know what to make of Fray. An ally and teacher, but the hungry look in her eyes when she watches her fight sends a shiver down her spine.

She wonders if this is how prey animals feel when a predator catches sight of them. The unsettling feeling in the pits of their stomachs before the inevitable strike.

“You resent this, don’t you?” Fray starts, pulling Ayaka out of her musings. “This ‘pointless’ trial. Perhaps you even resent me for subjecting you to it.”

Ayaka purses her lips, annoyed by the words. True, she finds this “trial” tedious, but it cannot be pointless. Surely there’s a method to Fray’s teachings.

Unless the point is to annoy her, then Fray is certainly winning in that regard.

“Remember this feeling. Treasure it,” Fray continues and somehow Ayaka can tell she’s smiling under her helmet. She can tell it’s not a pleasant smile, like ones Thancred or Yda would flash at her after returning from a mission. “I want it smoldering within you when we commune in Camp Drybone.”

The journey to the Amalj'aa encampment feels tense.

“Risk life and limb to do the work of a dozen men all because you bloody asked!? Is that it!?” Fray snarled, looking directly at Ayaka.

“That’s what we do,” Ayaka answered, trying not to glare at Fray.

“But that's what we do, isn't it?” Fray parroted, barking out a bitter laugh. “Every godsdamned time. Fine. We'll bring them back.”

‘Poor Isembard,’ Ayaka thought, thinking back to the scared look on his face as he bore witness to Fray’s anger. Truthfully, she has never seen the mysterious knight that angry either. Sarcastic, apathetic, bitter, and melancholic were the moods she was used to.

(Bloodthirsty as well, but Ayaka doesn’t want to think about those hungry eyes watching her as she cuts her foes down.)

“It looks like we’re here…” Ayaka says, eyes focused on the entrance.

(“Would you be so kind as to take a look inside?” Thancred had asked, flashing her one of those ‘please-don’t-get-mad-at-me smiles she’s seen him give Y’shtola.

She remembers giving him an annoyed look before sighing, nodding at his request. She remembers the encouraging grin he gave her before she headed towards the entrance, her staff raised and prepared to strike the Amalj'aa in her way.)

“The nerve of some people, after all you do for them…” Fray muttered, still annoyed with Isembred’s request, but it was clear the other was going to bite her tongue for the time being, lest they get into an argument in front of an enemy encampment.

(Unwittingly, Ul’dah comes to mind at Fray’s words. The memory of Nanamo falling to the ground… the red carpets barely hiding the blood spilled at the Crystal Braves’ treachery-)

“They're inside, just as Isembard said.” Fray observes, interrupting your thoughts. “Mere moments away from being tempered, I'm sure.”

The sarcasm is comforting, even if the situation felt too dire for it. While Ayaka was sure she could handle anyone enthralled by Ifrit’s flames, she didn’t want to fight innocent pilgrims if it came down to that. Grabbing her sword, she moved closer to the entrance, looking behind her to make sure Fray would follow.

Somehow, she felt Fray raise an eyebrow at her underneath that helm. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Fray asked, raising her cane towards the entrance. “It's time to play the hero!”

Fray’s customary bitterness seeped into her words and Ayaka felt her cheeks heat up at her mocking tone.

“It’s not ‘playing the hero’,” Ayaka rebuked, staring straight into Fray’s unsettling gaze. “It’s doing the right thing. If people need help, then it’s my responsibility to help them if my services are asked for.”

Fray said nothing, staring at her with those unsettlingly pale eyes. Ayaka turns away from her gaze, still feeling the disappointment rolling off of her.

“Gods bless you, adventurer!”

...

“Of course there’s more. There’s always more.”

...

“Oh, what a day! What a lovely day!”

The cries of rage from the Amalj'aa mix with Fray’s laughter.

They sound so far away, yet close as well.

Somehow Ayaka can feel Fray’s grin underneath (our) her helm, taking pleasure in the blood spilt by your (our) blade.

Ayaka doesn’t notice the blood on her clothes between her labored breaths and another Amalj'aa falling before her.

...

Isembard ought to know what (we) you did. Show him...

Chapter Text

Ayaka could tell Fray was annoyed.

Despite suggesting to come to Moraby Drydocks, Fray’s displeasure with their current location was clear. Truthfully, Ayaka didn’t have the best memories of this place, but the way Fray had glared out at the ocean was startling in its complete and utter contempt.

“...Never cared much for the ocean, myself.” Fray muttered, perhaps sensing Ayaka’s questioning stare. “That friend of mine─the one I told you about after our first communion. We came out here together, once.”

They paused, staring at Ayaka for a moment too long before looking away. “Long story short, we ended up doing something ridiculously foolish and were lucky to make it out alive. I tried to talk her out of it, but she just had to get on that damn boat…”

Of course, it was also likely Fray’s mood had everything to do with the merchant they had, begrudgingly, agreed to help.

“If this Qiqirn isn't everything he promised, I'll take it out of his hide… Good-for-nothing merchant, just like the ones in...” Fray growled, mood souring even further. “Let's make the most of this, Ayaka. No style, no guile, just chaos. Mark your limits, then push yourself beyond. Let the darkness guide you and set you free.”

She nodded, clenching at the pummel of her greatsword before swinging it over her shoulder, cautiously making her way towards the Qiqirn camp.

“Heh...heh… You did well…” Fray praised, but sounded more tired than Ayaka had heard them. “All that's left...is to return the goods to their owner…”

“Fray--!” Ayaka started, reaching out to try and help keep the other knight standing. “Perhaps you should--”

“I’m not some feckless worm, Ayaka…” Fray chided. They gestured to the package in Ayaka’s hand. “...Finish it... Finish what we started… The hard part is over... Now finish it…”

Pursing her lips, she nodded, heading back towards the direction of the port. Deep down, she knew Fray would be fine, but the way they held themselves… Barely being able to stand…

It filled her with a deep sense of worry, regardless of Fray’s own bravado.

“I know, I know,” Fray started, standing by one of the docks despite their earlier contempt for the ocean. “I lost my temper. You can’t blame me though, that good-for-nothing, ungrateful merchant deserved every word.”

“Fray…” Ayaka chided, crossing her arms over her chest. “What you said back there…”

“We can't keep doing this, Ayaka. You must see now what it's doing to us... What they're doing to us…” Fray interrupted, their voice a whisper underneath the crashing waves. “These… these people…”

The anguish in their voice made Ayaka look away. That one man was just another nameless face in a sea of people she’s helped since arriving to Eorzea, but…

But…

Shaking her head, she cleared those thoughts from her mind. “Never mind them,” she said, trying to keep the doubt out of her voice and remaining steady under Fray’s unrelenting stare. “The voice is all that matters.”

Silence, only broken by the crashing waves against the dock. She felt Fray measuring the weight of her words, the weight of her commitment that the other had questioned earlier. “Yes… Yes, you are right.” Fray answered, sounding both pleased and tired all at the same time. “You must hearken to its words and discover your true calling.”

Turning to look out at the ocean, Fray continued. “You are close, Ayaka─so very, very close…”

“Fray?” Ayaka asked, sensing something off.

“I wish I could tell you. I wish I could make you see,” Fray continued, unbothered by her question. They continued staring out at the ocean, eyes locked on some unknown destination off in the distance. “But all I can do is guide you on your journey…”

With every breath, she grows lighter, slipping further into the abyss. Within it, Ayaka hears the voice again.

A chorus of voices cries out for a hero, and she comes.

Something about it...

She smiles. She nods. And she remains silent…

Something about it sounded...

But she too has a voice... I will be heard…

“...Ayaka Mizushima.” Fray says, causing her to open her eyes and stare up at the other Dark Knight. The helmet obscured their face, but Ayaka could sense the frown.

Did she do something wrong? She felt so close that time--

“...You stand at the precipice, but do not fear the fall.” Fray instructed. “Cast yourself into the abyss, and you shall soar above, free at last.”

“I…” Ayaka started, faltering a little. The tiredness of Fray’s voice and the long, grueling day felt like it was beginning to take its toll on her.

“There are other lands than these, Ayaka─lands where we are not known.” Fray said, nodding towards one of the boats docking into the port. “Ask, and we shall quit this place forever.”

‘But the others,’ Ayaka thought, thinking of Alphinaud and Tataru, back in Ishgard trying desperately to collect as much information as they could about the whereabouts of their missing friends. ‘I can’t just…’

Don’t you deserve it though? After all, these Eorzeans are ungrateful, lousy, incompetent people.

Not her friends. Not the adventurers she’s met along the way. The people she’s helped and expressed genuine gratitude towards her for her help. A couple of bad apples hardly constituted running away--

Fray sighed, knocking Ayaka out of her musings. “Only when you have renounced everything are you free to do anything,” they advised, the disappointment clear in their voice, beginning to walk away from her and the dock. “When we meet again, you will give us your answer.”

Ayaka watched them walk away, remaining at the pier. She tried to focus on the sound of the waves and the smell of sea salt in the air rather than the way her heart pounded in her chest.

Chapter Text

“What about Esteem?”

‘...You’re still on about this? Why is this even necessary?’

Ayaka sighs, putting the brush down for a moment and stares into the vanity’s mirror.

‘Because it feels wrong to call you Fray knowing the real man is dead,’ Ayaka thinks, but doesn’t say out loud.

Not that it matters. Her constant companion--her mentor and misguided protector--can hear her thoughts anyways.

‘Fair enough,’ she concedes, although she sounds reluctant to admit it. ‘A pointless endeavor though.’

“It’s not pointless,” Akaya argues, wondering if her shadow can see the frustrated look on her face through their eyes. “You’re your own person! You deserve your own name.”

‘Need I remind you that I am you? Unless this is your way of denying me again. Wearing a mask to hide your true feelings while collared to Eorzea like a--’

“It’s not like that,” Ayaka interrupts. “Yes, you are me and I am you, but you’re capable of having thoughts and feelings separate from mine, correct? Therefore you deserve your own name!”

‘...Why are you like this?’ she asks, sounding thoroughly exasperated.

“You know the answer to that, Esteem,” Ayaka answers earnestly, holding back a laugh at the annoyed grunt her words earned.

‘Esteem… How ridiculous,’ Esteem says. She still sounds annoyed, but Ayaka doesn’t sense any real heat in her counterpart’s words.

“I think it fits you quite nicely,” Ayaka retorts. "You are, to a degree, quite admirable. Your steadfast desire to protect those you care about... It's something we have in common."

Esteem chuckles and Ayaka feels rather proud of herself for getting such a reaction from her brooding counterpart. ‘Perhaps there is hope for you yet, Ayaka Mizushima… All that’s left is letting go.’

(Hear… Feel… Think...

Serve... Save... Slave... Slay…

“You may as well put the blade at your own neck. But where would that leave us, hmmm?”

Serve... Save... Slave... Slay…

“The Warrior of Light! Our Weapon of Light!”

Serve... Save... Slave... Slay…

“...If this is how it must be, then so be it. But know that when you tire of this charade, I shall be here...waiting to take the reins…”

Serve... Save... Slave... Slay…

“You need only ask…”)

“I don’t think so, my shadowy friend,” Ayaka says, giving herself a tired smile in the mirror. “Not today, tomorrow, or anytime soon. I need to learn to stand on my own two feet now… A pillar of support for those that remain.”

Silence. A quiet huff follows afterwards from within the recesses of her mind and a flash of red eyes meet her gaze in the mirror. An equally tired and sorrowful smile adorns her twin’s face.

‘Very well, Ayaka. I will leave you be… for now… until next time…’

“Until next time, Esteem…” Ayaka says as a farewell, words echoing into the silence of her bedroom. She stares down at the brush, signs to herself, and continues brushing her hair once more.

Chapter Text

“You spared a man who tried to murder you. Mercy, some would call it.” Sidguru said, eyes narrowing. “Idiocy, I name it.”

‘Esteem would agree with you,’ Ayaka thought, but didn’t speak those words aloud. That was probably a conversation for another time (if ever) and Ayaka didn’t quite know what to make of the man standing before you.

She recognized him immediately as a Xaelan Au Ra and wondered, briefly, what he was doing this far from Othard. If Ayaka, who’s only saving grace in Ishgard was her status as a ward of House Fortemps, dealt with people glaring and whispering behind her back about her horns and scales, she could only imagine how much worse it was for the other man.

Black scales and horns. Piercingly bright eyes that glowed. Taller than any male Elezen she’s encountered thus far…

Yes, Ayaka thought, he’s definitely dealt with much more than she has.

“Aye, that's right. I followed him and gave him the ‘mercy’ he truly deserved!” He hissed, venom dripping from every word.

She flinched back at that.

Something in her expression must have betrayed her thoughts because Siguru’s face softened for a moment. “...Look at me, Ayaka. Tell me what you see.”

‘A man filled with anger,’ she thought. Not that she has much room to talk if Fray’s existence and feelings were anything to go by. “I see another Au Ra far from home.”

He paused at that, perhaps not expecting that response. “...The first Ishgardians to encounter Au Ra saw Dravanians.” His voice was monotone, but Ayaka could still feel the underlining sadness in his voice. “We had fled Garlemald's armies only to come to a land where we were mistaken for another nation's mortal enemy. They bared steel and came to kill us… but we did not die so easily.”

Ayaka pursed her lips. She has a feeling she knew where this was going…

“We spared them and sent them on their way… and how do you think they repaid our kindness?” He continued, anger creeping into his voice now. “With fire and blood, Ayaka! With death for every man, woman, and child!”

Silence remained between them. Sidguru was seething where he stood while the girl -- Rielle -- stood next to him with an unreadable expression on her face, but her eyes gave away her concern.

“... Make no mistake. These are the wages of mercy.” Sidguru conceded, but he stood tall and unwavering in his conviction. “If you would walk the path, then you must accept this truth, for your enemies already have.”

Ayaka says nothing, but she feels Fray’s presence stirring from somewhere within. She can practically hear the muttered agreement from her shadow.

Chapter Text

A vicious, all-consuming anger once hanging over her became replaced by numbness.

For all her chiding of Estinien’s desire for vengeance--to the point of negligence--Ayaka had fallen into the same pitfall he did.

Haurchefant’s murderer and Aymeric’s torturers were brought to justice. The twelve finest knights in Ishgard dissolved into aether around her and Ayaka was willing to admit her eyes lingered on Ser Zephirin’s shade the longest.

As she stood before the Archbishop, Ayaka contemplated cutting him down at that moment. Justice demanded no less of the man that sanctioned having his son tortured for the “crime” of demanding the truth of the Dragonsong War be revealed.

Her hand reached for the pommel of her greatsword, ready to strike him down, but Thordan dissolved into aether before she had the chance to do so.

Standing in these chambers, the only sound heard was Ayaka’s heavy breathing and her greaves echoing on the floor.

(She would feel guilty and numb later, when Alphinaud saw the wounds decorating her body and tried to put on a brave face as he healed her. The poor boy had been through so much in the span of a few hours-

Ysayle’s death lingered between them and with Estinien under Nidhogg’s thrall, Ayaka desperately wished she could make things better somehow.)

Patrolling the Last Vigil was a mistake, Ayaka thought. She felt dizzy, walking this familiar street and desperately tried to avoid going anywhere near the Vault. She knew her path would lead her close to Fortemps Manor, but it was easier standing near there then that place--

That place where--

For all of her accomplishments (the Warrior of Light, the Champion of Eorzea, the Slayer of Gods, the Savior of Ishgard…), she cannot turn her mind away from her failures as she gazed upon Fortemps Manor. Haurchefant and Ysayle…

(Did she see Haurchefant and Ysayle as she pulled those wretched Eyes free from Estinien? Or was her mind playing a trick on her, showing her the last two people Ayaka had let down?)

“You...you are unharmed? F-Forgive me… I could not bear the thought of… of… Oh, do not look at me so. A smile better suits a hero…”

“O goddess born of mine own hopes and dreams. For the last time, I beseech You! Fill this vessel with Your light! Still the hatred within our hearts and bless us with eternal grace! … Farewell, Warrior of Light. And thank you─for showing me the way.”

Ayaka felt something shatter within her at that moment. An unbelievable amount of pain in her chest.

(It’s like her heart had been ripped into two--)

A broken soul crystal. A mysterious boy that looked and felt familiar to her. Sidguru may be upset about him needing her aether, and rightfully so, but if he has the power to help those in need...

“Forgive me…” Myste pleads, looking at her with those familiar eyes. “Please, forgive me… I will return it to you, I promise, but I must first ask that you allow me to use a portion!”

(His hair and eyes aren’t his own, but…)

Perhaps this young boy can ease the suffering of others…

(For those lives she cut short so quickly and easily… for those families left cursing her name and the names of her allies…)

“What could possibly go wrong?” Sidguru grumbled, looking particularly more annoyed than usual.

Ayaka tried giving him a reassuring smile, but something about the look on her face must’ve made him look more concerned than soothed.

Her hair. His coloring. A portrait of a young Elezen he once showed her, sketched with love for his father despite the man’s wife’s misgivings about enduring a bastard child under her roof--

Myste is many things, she thinks, but an uncomfortable familiarity to him is something Ayaka tries desperately to ignore.

For those we have lost… For those we have lost…

Forgive me… Please, forgive me…

(It occurs to her after trying to help a man’s dying wish be fulfilled that those pleads sounded like the desperate ones she made in the middle of night to whatever gods would hear her, whether it be the Twelve or the kami--)

“Say your name,” Ayaka demanded, staring down the little boy (girl) who wanted to make this cruel world a better place. “Your real name!”

In the end, she supposed it didn’t matter if Myste continued to use that name. Ayaka knew what he (she) was. The embodiment of her own guilt and desperate need to fix the lives she ruined.

In a way, Myste was doomed from the start. A fool he (she) may be, but Myste was their fool. There was no way to bring back the lives of those cut down by Ayaka, no matter how much she wished for a way to erase the weight of them on her soul. Myste’s delusions weren’t her fault, but Ayaka’s own, born out of desperation.

The charade needed to end, one way or another.

Ayaka may have regrets. Not for those who willingly attempted to harm her and her friends, but for those Garlean soldiers that were only following orders. For the Heavens’ Ward, who were tempered into following the mad delusions of their archbishop…

(She will not forgive Ser Zephirin, but Ayaka will pity the man she never met, who was tempered long before she ever arrived in Ishgard…)

She’s sinned aplenty, but Ayaka won’t regret meeting Haurchefant and Ysayle. She’ll carry that grief with her for the rest of her life.

For what is grief if not love persisting?

(‘I forgive you…’ Ayaka thought, closing her eyes and calling out to Esteem. She felt her stir within her, ready to talk some sense in the poor child--the avatar of Ayaka’s guilt and desperate need for self-salvation--standing before her. ‘I forgive you…’)

The scars and sins on her heart were theirs to bear, not deny. Ayaka and Esteem would make sure Myste understood that.

(You defy the only rightful god!

I will answer for my sins. Will you for yours?

Ours is the righteous cause!

No shield will defend you from the spear of my conviction!

You shall fall, as did your ally!

Reclaim the last of your aether! Make us whole!

Listen to my voice. Listen to our heartbeat. Listen… I forgive you. I forgive you. I forgive you…

Thank you. That is… that is all I ever wanted…

So…this is it. One last parting. One final farewell… after a fashion.

In your darkest hour, in the blackest night… think of me… and I will be with you. Always. For where else could I go? Who else could I love but you?)

“Hm? What troubles you, Mistress Ayaka?”

Startled out of her thoughts, Ayaka turned to see Count Edmont approaching her. Upon reflex, she felt her throat tighten at the sight of him, but Ayaka calmed herself before giving him a nod in lieu of a greeting.

While she learned to forgive herself, she still didn’t trust her voice not to crack when speaking to the man that gave her shelter… Who gave his blessing for his son to court her…

Who trusted her to keep his son safe and never held it against her when she couldn’t.

(A knight’s duty is to protect the people… The weak and vulnerable… Those they cherish. For those that can yet be saved--)

“Ah, but of course,” he murmured to himself. “‘Tis bitterly cold this day. At times like these, one should be warming themselves by the fire,” the Count stated, giving her a pointed look. It felt like a lifetime ago when she told him how easily she got cold and how he made it a point to keep her room stocked with extra firewood.

“Not a day goes by without your name being spoken, you know.” Count Edmont relayed, shocking her. He chuckled under his breath, giving her a reassuring smile. “The soldiers and merchants often bring us news of your latest exploits. That said, to hear it from the hero herself would be much preferable…”

He trailed off then, no doubt his mind wandering to the same requests spoken by Haurchefant during those quiet days in Ishgard.

“But there would be no expectation were you to call on us.” He continued. A smile graced his face then. “The pleasure of your company alone would be more than enough.”

“You flatter me, Count Edmont…” Ayaka responded, finding her voice. Inside, she winced a little, wondering how exactly to address the man. Was he a Count still? She had no idea--

“Rare though I expect it will be in the days to come…” Count Edmont said, interrupting her thoughts. “But your destiny was never to remain here, was it?” He questioned, closing his eyes for a brief moment, lost in thought. “Though a part of me wishes that you would…”

“As much as I wish I could, it would be rather unrealistic…” Ayaka said, looking up towards the sky for a brief moment before closing her eyes. A dream of staying in Ishgard with Haurchefant… A family of their own…

“Forgive me. I find myself growing more and more sentimental in my old age… And in working on my memoirs, I have had to reflect on the darker chapters of my life…” He paused, a pained look crossing his face. A rare moment of vulnerability that Ayaka only saw twice before. “Haurchefant… Lived his to the fullest… And if his story is preserved for generations to come, then I… I should be glad of it…”

“I don’t regret meeting him,” Ayaka blurted, face flaming for a moment. She steeled herself, missing the shocked look on the Count’s face. “I loved your son with my entire being and… And I’m sorry. I hope I can honor your son’s memory by carrying on his legacy the best I can.”

Silence hung between them. Ayaka wondered, for a moment, if she had screwed up somehow by admitting that.

A quiet chuckle, followed by a fond smile, broke the silence between them. Count Edmont looked at her with such kind eyes that reminded her of his son, one of the things she knew he inherited from his father despite not matching his brothers’ coloring.

“You will always have a place here, Ayaka. For you are family.” He said, making Ayaka feel off-kilter for a brief moment. “Now, go! Do not let me keep you from your labors. The world waits for none─not even you.”

With one final goodbye, Count Edmont continued his journey towards the Manor. Her eyes followed him before looking upon the Fortemps Manor once more.

Before, she stood here consumed by guilt. Now…

Now, she felt as if a weight had been lifted off of her soul. The guilt wasn’t gone, but the pain of it lessened.

Chapter Text

“Clever girl,” Esteem murmured, taking in the sight of the shadowy simulacrum of them. “Taking a page from the young one, I take it?”

“It’s hardly the same thing,” Ayaka answered. She still seemed cautious, but otherwise didn’t seem stiff around Esteem anymore. It helped that they reached a compromise back in Gyr Abania and Esteem gained closure in knowing what their role was in this grand adventure…

They raised an eyebrow, a move not concealed by their helmet for once. “Did you think I would be upset?”

“A little bit,” Ayaka answered, looking a little flustered at being read so easily. Esteem resisted the urge to roll their eyes, even if they both knew there wouldn’t have been any real heat behind it. They had already come to a head at Whitebrim; there wasn’t any need to hash it out again.

“Well,” Esteem started, pausing for a moment. “I can’t say I’m insulted, just as long as you remember this shadow isn’t me.”

“Of course I remember,” Ayaka pouted, a bit of pink coloring her cheeks. “I just… It makes fights less lonely? And it helps make up for my lack of--”

“If you’re about to claim you have no skill with that greatsword on your back, then I’m sure Sid would agree with me otherwise,” Esteem interrupted. “You’ve found a way to invent and hone new skills while away from the Source and your mentors. That’s a credit to you as much as it’s a credit to the lessons you’ve learned thus far from your various teachers.”

“Like you?” Ayaka asked, giggling a bit at Esteem’s embarrassed look. “I like to think you played a bigger part in my life than you think. A lot of my skill with a greatsword is thanks to you.”

“I was the teacher you needed,” Esteem said, a statement of fact more than anything. “My blade was your blade… My soul crystal your crystal.”

“That became more literal than I expected,” Ayaka chuckled, a nostalgic look on her face. “But thank you, Esteem.”

“For what?” They asked, a confused look on their face.

“For being honest,” Ayaka answered, a grin on her face. “And trying to encourage me right now. You’ve always cared about me a lot more than I cared about myself, so thank you.”

“...Of course,” Esteem said. They could feel their cheeks warming a bit. “It’s like I told you… I’ll love you more than you’ll ever know.” Shrugging, Esteem looked away and allowed themself to begin dissolving into aether again. “Someone has to.”

“Yes,” Ayaka responded, picking up her greatsword and swinging it back onto her back like it barely weighed a thing. Another feat of her strength and skill that she was too modest to talk about. “And I feel the same way, Esteem.”

Chapter Text

From within their space, Esteem simmered in annoyance.

Myste avoided them, like the foolishly smart child Esteem knew them to be. They could feel Myste’s concern from the mending connection between them, but the child wouldn’t approach them when Esteem was in a mood.

It was bad enough they sensed an annoying presence off in the distance--a soul burdened by darkness and loneliness, and horribly familiar in a way Esteem didn’t wish to understand--but now it would seem Ayaka was putting them in harm’s way. Again.

They knew there was no swaying the woman once she made up her mind. It was both admirable and frustrating, especially when it was something that made Esteem want to rip apart the nearest foe.

Whether that foe was this Crystal Exarch or not was yet to be seen.

For he kept secrets. Hid his identity from his would-be allies. His very presence was difficult to ascertain at times, hidden from Esteem’s senses. For a man that liked to hide himself in the shadows, his quarters allowed barely any shadows to penetrate it.

The worst crime, however, was trying to use Ayaka’s Blessing to contain the Light. Like a hidden pawn the Exarch could move across the chessboard as he played politics with Eulmore, sending them to take down the Wardens.

“Warrior of Light! Weapon of Light! That is all we are to those wretched people!” Esteem shouted, sword drawn and darkness swirling around them.

“That’s not true…” Ayaka whispered. She kept her own sword sheathed, a pained look crossing her face. “I… That’s not true.”

“It’s not?” Esteem mocked, gesturing out to the people surrounding them. “How will they be any different from those in the Eorzean Alliance? They offer you sanctuary, but at what price? A good little shoulder they can send off to fight in a war we have no business being in?!”

They growled, resisting the urge to take control and go to the Exarch. Esteem would put him in his place if Ayaka had just allowed it. She might not notice it, but Esteem could feel the tiniest fracture forming in their soul. Light, blinding and poisonous, coming from it. Does the Exarch know the full weight of the task he’s burdened Ayaka with? Esteem wanted to know; wanted to demand it of him.

Esteem would not allow the two of them to be used again. Regardless of what dearest Ayaka thought, Esteem would keep watch over the fracture and this Crystal Exarch. If he proved himself the villain that Esteem thought him to be, then they would cut the man down where he stood without hesitation.

A suitable punishment for daring to use them for whatever scheme he kept close to his chest.