Chapter Text
As the glowing form of Bahamut descended upon the battlefield, the Twelve appeared, translucent at first, but gradually solidifying, above Archon Louisoix. For a moment everything seemed to stop as the massed soldiers looked to the skies. Then there was a blinding flash as the Twelve took on the primal. By the time Kan-E-Senna’s sight returned, Bahamut lay still, his heart pierced through by Halone’s spear. He flickered and faded, turning to motes of light that gradually dispersed.
The Twelve, however, did not disperse. Mayhap their summoning had been too powerful, or mayhap they drew strength from those on the battlefield. They looked just as Kan-E-Senna would have expected. She found herself gazing upon Nophica, the patron of Gridania, with a certain reverence, at her thick waves of ginger hair, at the elegant bow she carried, every movement. Might they say something, ere they departed?
By then, it was already too late.
The Twelve turned their attention to the crowd, to the masses of Eorzeans and Garleans. In unison, they raised their hands, and sent a wave of energy across the battlefield, engulfing everything.
Kan-E-Senna raised a shield and braced herself. It would only protect her and those closest to her–the other city-state leaders and a few of their companions–and she had little hope of holding out against an onslaught from the Twelve.
The wave reached her… and bypassed her shield without breaking it.
She scarcely had time to close her eyes before the wave of energy hit her and she was filled with a deep sense of adoration and purpose. Adoration towards the Twelve, and Nophica most of all. For a moment she was reminded of the way primals like Ifrit were said to temper their followers but no–this could be nothing other than a connection to the divine.
It was Althyk who spoke, in a voice that bespoke the wisdom of his years. “Lay down your arms, for all of you are brothers and sisters, true followers of the Twelve! Lay down your arms and learn to know one another, for when you leave this field, all Eorzea shall be united!”
The Twelve then departed, scattering in all directions, as Garlean and Eorzean alike dropped their weapons and embraced, then united to care for the wounded. They, like Kan-E-Senna, would remember it as the day when they found their purpose, the day when Eorzea found peace.
But there were those who did not see it in that light.
Garlean leaders were shocked, not so much at losing contact with so many Garlean forces as at the news, brought weeks later by those few scouts who made it out with their minds intact, that the survivors appeared to have defected, now loyally serving alongside Eorzeans. The conscripts, they could understand, but that so many officers, many of good Garlean stock, should be convinced to betray their country.
Those few spies who got close enough to understand why did not return, they, too, having defected.
Emperor Solus was reportedly silent for some time at the news, but then was heard to say, “Yes, I see… this promises to be most intriguing.”
The Garlean rumor mills did not know what to make of this odd statement, but in any event the emperor seemed loath to make any moves under the circumstances.
And then the Ala Mhigan province cut off contact, even Garlean citizens swearing allegiance to Rhalgr.
Meanwhile, in a safehouse in Ul’dah, Minfilia and some few members of the Path of the Twelve hid from the chaos on the streets. They had prayed with all the others to the Twelve for Louisoix’ success, and some of their friends and allies were at Carteneau, but they would know nothing of what had occurred until Nald-Thal came to Ul’dah.
Minfilia did not see the gods with her own eyes that day, but she saw their effects. Those with the Echo were unaffected by the wave of energy that washed over the city, but all others fell on their knees and swore allegiance to one god or another, their eyes alight with determination. Though they were not mindless thralls, unlike those captured and brought before Ifrit, she knew they must be tempered, and that Louisoix had failed, had completed the summoning rather than using its energy as he had proposed.
Commanded to lay down their arms, the followers of Nald-Thal did nothing to harm Minfilia in those early days, but she doubted it would last. Those few who were not bound to the Twelve would be suspect. She must find a way to save them, if she could not save Eorzea, and she had little time and few allies. Her only hope was to turn to Hydaelyn, though how that goddess might save them when the gods had damned them she knew not.
And yet, she would not be alone–all across Eorzea, the starshowers of the Calamity had awakened many to the voice of Hydaelyn, and some of them would aid in her quest, even as the Twelve bled the land and their people dry.