Chapter Text
They looked nothing alike. Somewhere in her mind, Eihla had expected that she'd at least share some resemblance, but she realized now that was quite foolish. The Ascians sometimes changed bodies like one would change clothes. What made them recognizable was not their bodies, and their clothing merely echoed the choices of the being inhabiting it. No, what tied her and this being together was not at all the form they possessed, but rather who possessed it.
It was simple, really. Yet, here she stood peering up at a woman whose eyes reminded her of a flower G'Raha had once shown her through the Ocular. A hibiscus, she remembered distantly. Said to help decrease blood pressure. Perhaps Emet-Selch could use some, for his neck was twitching from the rate he was straining. He wasn't looking at Eihla, of course. A familiar was of no interest to one of his esteemed duties, beyond passing annoyance due to it distracting Hythlodaeus so effectively, and now Azem as well.
Eihla, for her part, was not paying him much attention either. Indeed, while her heart had tried to retire without even giving notice upon seeing him at the entry to Elpis, she had quickly shoveled her intermingled emotions into a vacant room and decidedly lost the key. There was no time for that, she was busy preventing the end of the world after all. Again. But then she had the gall to come along with a battering ram and take out the entire door frame.
Despite their lack of physical similarity, her identity wasn't any form of mystery to Eihla. She had felt this in the past... the future? In the Tempest, with Azem's crystal, Eihla had known herself more deeply than ever before. The strings she had thought floating uselessly in the wind were in fact tied and secure. Too secure, perhaps. She could almost see them now, woven and myriad between these three ancient beings. And that wretched hole in her heart twisted, for the ache of knowing was greater than the ache of yearning.
Azem stared at her, doing her own measuring. Just as Eihla managed to find some boards and nails for the doorway, Azem raised her eyebrow. Eihla blinked, just the once. Azem's eyelids lowered, a smile both calculating and mischievous spreading across her lips.
"It seems I imparted a bit too much of my curiosity to this one," she said, "or perhaps just the right amount?"
Emet-Selch sighed at length, even shutting his eyes as though it could block out whatever nonsense he was about to be presented. Hythlodaeus, however, drew closer to Eihla, even resting a hand lightly on her scapula. He seemed to like to do that; to give her a physical sense of grounding. Did he know? He surely knew something, but did he truly know? He had certainly shown fascination with her since her arrival, at the very least.
"What inspired you to make a familiar with such unique form, dearest Azem?" he queried.
Azem tapped her chin, circling Eihla and Hythlodaeus. "I do wonder, myself."
Eihla's ears flattened ever so slightly, her focus mainly pointed at keeping her tail to calm sweeps rather than the agitated flicks it desired. Thankfully, Emet-Selch came to her rescue, or rather his own.
"While this all has been thoroughly entertaining," he stated with as much amusement as a stone, "I have work to do. And, I recall, you two so desired to aid me with it."
Azem and Hythlodaeus looked up at him, their smiles growing rather than dimming at his dull tone. He truly was the distant relative of a hedgehog. Trying with all his might to appear ornery, intimidating, and so utterly bothered, and yet giving himself away entirely by continuing to stand there waiting for his friends to accompany them rather than continue about his very important business.
"Well," Azem ceded, "where are we to go?"
Emet-Selch clicked his tongue in feigned dissatisfaction and merely began stalking up the pathway. Hythlodaeus shared a warm glance with Azem as he moved to follow him, and Azem watched them briefly before turning to Eihla. The amusement in her eyes was no more.
"Speak."
Eihla's ears flattened further in a mixture of distaste and worry, but she complied, "I am unsure how much I should say, but I must find something here."
"How very specific." The taller woman arched a brow expectantly.
Eihla opened her mouth, but paused. She acts as he does when she's trying to be imperious. They were dear to each other, enough for Emet-Selch to still grieve her deeply millennia later. But he had not recreated her, not like he did with Hythlodaeus. Why? She peered up at the woman, recalling Elidibus' words of memory and time. She struggled to grasp it, all the potentials, to seek through them for the best option. But she knew within herself that what she told Azem would be held close, at least for a time. She could see her.
So, she told her. Not everything, of course, there wasn't time for that with Emet-Selch grumbling just loudly enough for them to hear that they were taking too long. But enough. That she wasn't from now, that her world was broken and breaking, that her only clue for salvation was someone called Hermes. Azem, for her part, took it in stride. As Eihla had explained, Azem's expression had mellowed, her defenses receding as she contemplated. Eihla supposed that her station in the Convocation did lend some expectations of interest in the unknown, but this was a few levels of strange above the mere unknown. Nevertheless, when Eihla fell silent, Azem took Eihla's hand in her own and squeezed gently.
Looking deep into Eihla's eyes, she said staunchly, "The world is precious, no matter which one it is."
Eihla dropped her head, looking down at their hands. Was she imitating Hythlodaeus or was he imitating her? The threads were so confusing, she felt pulled in such different directions. Thousands of knots to detangle, and only her two hands to do it with.
But, perhaps not only hers. With her voice barely audible, she admitted, "I'm not sure I can save it. I've... I've already..." she inhaled shakily, "Maybe I've already failed."
Azem considered this, searching Eihla's shadowed expression. Eihla knew they were much the same, as feathers from a bird are alike. As her and Ardbert had been. And she knew that without her time with him, she would have never been able to speak as openly, to make an indirect plea for not just aid, but hope. Hope in success, in a future for her loved ones. Even still, Eihla had those boards and nails in her hands, and her heart was hammering in her chest. She only needed to say enough to get help to save them. The ones she could still save. The ones she hadn't-
"No."
Eihla froze, her heart missing its mark on the nail and hitting itself instead.
"You are of me. I know not how, and it is more difficult to examine now that Emet-Selch has shared his ever-blazoned aether with you, but you and I," she lifted Eihla's chin, "I know we will break ourselves to ensure what follows us is better."
"We... will." Eihla breathed out.
Azem seemed to reach her resolve, nodding once, "We will find your answers. Those two as well, though Emet-Selch may need some persuasion."
Eihla's smile was watery and she spoke softly, "Hades does always need a bit of sweet-talking, doesn't he?"
Azem stared down at her for a moment, then hummed thoughtfully.
"Indeed. Then we must convince Hythlodaeus first."