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The first meeting of the unified Eorzean city-state alliance and their new Eastern allies had already been going on for some time when the conversation took its inevitable turn towards the Bringers of Chaos.
It was Aymeric who raised the subject, of course - cutting to the point, though in typically Ishgardian style. “The winds suggest but one course to me: one which leads from the sea unto the river and thence to the source of all our woes.”
There was a brief silence as they all considered his words.
Ania exchanged a glance with Rin, seated at her side. Her fellow Warrior of Light’s expression was somewhere between annoyance and resignation.
Nanamo broke the silence. “The Ascians.”
Aymeric inclined his head. “Indeed. All here have felt their blighted touch. It was the Bringers of Chaos who nurtured the archbishop's tyrannical ambitions… they who bestowed upon him the secrets of summoning, as they have so many others, before and since. And while they remain, we shall know no peace.”
“Our objective is clear,” Raubahn said. “The question is how to achieve it. That our enemy parades about in Zenos's skin poses problems in itself. Do we have any notion of who it might be?”
“An overlord such as Elidibus, most like,” Y’shtola said. “I doubt they would entrust such a task to a black mask.”
Nanamo raised an apologetic hand. “Forgive me; the details escape me. The black masks are…?”
"I'm taking a break," Rin said, standing up.
Ania stood up too, unsurprised.
Rin oft gave the impression of being quiet and gentle; she shared Ania's preference for few and carefully-considered words when among strangers, but it was taken quite differently from the petite, diminutive Au-Ra than it was from a Roegadyn like Ania.
Few even among the Scions knew that Rin concealed an easily-stoked anger - one that she had wrestled into submission after leaving the Azim Steppe as a child, but one that smouldered nevertheless.
“I’d not have guessed,” Ania had told her once, when Rin had admitted to coming close to losing patience during yet another unfocused Alliance meeting. “I have always thought you remarkably level-headed.”
"Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. It’s something I’ve worked on for as long as I can remember. Alphinaud, Azim shield him, thinks I ought to speak my mind, but I will be honest: in these meetings, it is sometimes all I can do to count to 10.”
Aymeric nodded. None of the city-state leaders truly understood Rin’s nature, but Ania thought that Aymeric might have an inkling. “We’ll call you when we’re closer to a plan of action.”
As she followed Rin out, Ania caught Alisaie’s tortured expression, clearly wrestling with the urge to follow them out of the door, and the responsibility to stay put on Alphinaud’s behalf. The door closed behind them before she could leave her seat.
The two Warriors of Light passed through the corridors and out of the building in silence, nodding mutely to the various soldiers who they passed on the way. Many of them stopped to salute, which felt a little odd to Ania sometimes, even now. These are my countrymen.
As soon as they were out of earshot of the last guard on the steps, Rin said, “You’d think they'd at least read up on all Alphinaud's Ascian reports before these meetings, so we don't keep retreading old ground."
"They rely on the Scions."
"Too much. Why doesn't each of the city states have their own Ascian specialist by this point? Why does it always fall to us? That's what I want to know. None of us in the Scions are particularly special."
Ania tried not to smile. Rin’s successes on the battlefield had never gone to her head - to a fault, sometimes. She couldn’t really understand that not anyone could just pick up a book and learn how to summon Bahamut.
(This was probably why she got on so well with Alisaie, Ania supposed: she alone among the Scions seemed to view Rin and Ania’s strengths as targets to beat rather than an authority to defer to.)
Rin sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly as her built-up irritated energy started to leave her. "I suppose it's nice to see Aymeric again, at least - especially somewhere that's not Ishgard."
Ania’s eyebrows lifted. “I could hardly pry you away from there a year ago.”
"Yes, but only because of - Aymeric.” The unspoken ‘Ysayle’ was evident. “And Hilda and the rest, all these people with all their ideas of what the future looks like… I want to see their vision realised but - just - fuck Ishgard itself, it’s a godawful city and I mean that literally. If I ever meet Halone, it's on sight. She has a lot to answer for.”
Ania laughed. She couldn’t help it; it burst out of her in surprise more than anything. Rin shot her a sideways look and a poorly concealed grin, clearly pleased with herself.
They passed through Gylbarde's Gate and paused at the walls beyond, looking out over Loch Seld. The wind picked up, and Ania caught the scent of salt; as it always did, it unlocked some deep ache within her.
Home.
How often had she stood on the walls of Limsa and breathed deeply, wishing for drier, duster winds? Wishing for a homeland she thought lost to her?
And now she was home, and now home was free. But she knew, intimately, that the choice open to Raubahn - the choice to relinquish his previous responsibilities, to return for good - was not one that she could allow herself to make. Not while the Ascians still posed a threat.
Sometimes it felt like she had freed Ala Mhigo for everyone except herself.
"It really was just a year ago, wasn't it?" Rin said, breaking into her reverie. "It feels so much longer."
"Aye. You've come a long way. As a Scion and warrior both."
Rin smiled. "Oh, yes. I can now read very well."
Ania snorted. It was an old in-joke. As a Xaela of the Steppe and an Ala Mighan respectively, they'd both encountered unwelcome comments on their literacy levels in relation to their prowess with the grimoire and codex - some more malicious than others, but all rooted in tired stereotyping of "savage" nations.
Once, Rin's tolerance for this had snapped. She had put on her best wide-eyed ingenue expression, broadened her Steppe accent, and asked a patronising Alphinaud if he could please teach her his cultured tome magic. He had not been able to understand why Thancred had started laughing, or why Ania had gone suddenly po-faced - not until Rin wiped the floor with him in a practice bout three minutes later.
To his merit, he had been very apologetic afterwards. It had been his first lesson in humility.
If only he hadn't needed another.
Ania pushed that thought from her mind. Alisaie has not yet been told this anecdote, she reminded herself; she needed to rectify this.
She realised Rin was looking at her, head tilted quizzically, obviously wondering where her thoughts had taken her.
"You certainly read Sadu into the ground last week," she said, and was rewarded when Rin cackled.
They continued on, not talking, just enjoying the warm weather. Ania's mind wandered, thinking of Rin's summoning. Few could challenge her as a magic user now, but she showed no signs of slowing down, working furiously to perfect her art.
"What attracted you to arcanism?" she asked, eventually. "I don't think I've ever asked. You made a strong paladin, in your early days."
Rin abruptly halted. Ania turned back to her, surprised.
The Xaela's expression had suddenly turned drawn.
"I…" She grimaced. "I abandoned my paladin training after my first battle with Ifrit."
Ania hadn't noticed the correlation. "Why?"
Rin didn't answer immediately, obviously searching for the right words.
“I always had this… romantic idea that paladins were the true heroes," she said at last. "I watched them, you know - when I went to Ul’dah, with my father’s caravan. And when our supply run was hit at Carteneau, it was Ul’dah’s soldiers who pulled me from the rubble. I went straight to the Gladiators when I decided I wanted to become an adventurer - of course I did. I didn’t even consider anything else.
“But then, after Ifrit…”
She trailed off, expression growing distant.
They’d never really spoken about Ifrit before. Ania had been away from the Waking Sands when Rin had been assigned that fateful mission. She’d been seeking evidence that there were traitors within the Immortal Flames’ ranks, but had brought her suspicions to Minfilia too late; the horrified Antecedent had informed her that the newest recruit to the Scions had already set out on a mission that was sure to be a trap.
She’d got there quickly enough to rescue Rin, to smite down the primal at her side. But not quickly enough to save the other abductees, nor quickly enough to spare Rin from the dull horror that had entered the young adventurer’s expression - her shellshocked eyes wide enough, for once, that the full ring of glowing white could be seen around her irises, even after Ifrit had collapsed into smoke and rapidly dispelling aether.
(“I hope you’re not going to blame yourself for this,” Thancred had told Ania, later. “There were dozens in the Flames that should have realised what was going on. Gods, even I should have spotted it before you did.”
She had nodded convincingly enough that he’d dropped the subject.)
“After Ifrit,” Rin said, more slowly, “I realised that no shield of mine could possibly protect the world from the primals. The only thing I can do is kill them, and kill them fast, before they can lay their hands on the people I love."
A silence spread between them.
After a moment, Rin shook her head, and started walking again. "So, I picked up arcanism. It seemed the obvious choice: I wanted more than a fighting technique, I wanted to understand. To follow Y’shtola and Urianger’s explanations, to know what I was up against. The path of the summoner seemed the way to do it... though I have thought of taking up the sword again, as a red mage."
Ania nodded. "The role would suit you." She was glad that the conversation was turning back towards their jobs, to talking shop; she did not want to dwell on what Rin had just said.
But it was only a moment’s relief.
Rin’s head tilted, and she looked up at Ania. Despite the Au Ra’s gentle features, Ania felt that white-circled gaze pierce right through her.
“You did the opposite, yes? Thancred told me. You put down the book and picked up the greatsword, the gunblade. Why?"
Ania’s expression darkened, then. “You recall our flight from Ul'dah, in the wake of Ilberd’s betrayal. I had dared to hope, I think. Alphinaud has that effect on people. And when Nanamo declared her intention to dismantle the monarchy, I thought that was it. That we’d made a difference.”
She shot Rin a grim smile. “Well, you know what we learnt. We can slay primals and kill Ascians, but it is the most dull of evils that scattered us to the wind. After that, I wasn’t prepared to stand in the back and save lives anymore.”
Rin attempted to meet Ania’s eyes, but they were focussed sharp on something behind her. A memory projected. “If I was to be the weapon wielded by the craven against our own works, then all the better to be at the front. I’ll be the protagonist they want.”
And finally, with venom in every pointed word. “And my sword will weigh so much that nobody will wield it but me.”
There was silence from her companion beside her.
Ania turned, expecting - she wasn’t sure what, exactly. But it wasn’t the look on Rin’s face. The deep well of sadness in her light-rung eyes.
"Ania," she said, with uncharacteristic hesitance. “Sometimes, I wonder if--"
"Ania! Rin!"
They turned as one. It was Alisaie, running up to them from the direction of the meeting.
"You're needed," she told them, skidding to a halt. "I think Thancred has an idea about how to target the Imperials and he wants your input."
Rin crossed her arms. Ania couldn't tell if she was genuinely annoyed at being interrupted, or just pretending to be in order to mess with Alisaie. "We do have linkpearls, you know."
"Don't you start! Not after you just abandoned me with the politicians!"
"Alphinaud's boots proving hard to fill?"
Alisaie's expression darkened. "I swear, he had better be all right, because I'm not doing this again! What is the point of being a twin if you have to deal with everything?"
Ania rested a conciliatory hand on Alisaie’s shoulder.
“Can I make it up to you by telling you the story of Alphinaud and Rin’s duel…?”
A minute later, Alisaie’s howl of laughter would startle a flock of birds from the roof of the Royal Palace.
Ten minutes later, every Scion would suffer a devastating psychic attack, one that Thancred would not emerge from.
After that, everything would start to go wrong.
