Chapter Text
"Hear… Feel… Think…"
As awareness slowly returns to Ysayle, she finds herself in the familiar void of communion with the Mothercrystal. Is this what awaits all of Hydaelyn's chosen after death? Will her soul drift into the Lifestream once more, or is she to be kept by the Crystal instead?
"My child…"
Ysayle turns slowly to the source of the voice, finding that she isn't alone in the void. A Hyuran woman with golden hair and glowing blue eyes is there with her.
"Who are you?" Ysayle asks the woman.
"I am the Word of the Mother. We are one, we speak with one voice."
While this is unlike anything Ysayle has ever seen, she finds a certainty within her heart that it is true.
"My daughter, my crystal bearer… You have forsaken hope," the Word says sadly. "Do you truly believe that naught but death will offer you redemption?"
Ysayle hesitates for a moment, then admits, "Great Mother, even my death could never be enough to atone for the suffering and pain I wrought."
At this, the Word of the Mother floats closer and holds out her hand to Ysayle's cheek.
"Beloved child, who taught you that death was an atonement?" the Word asks softly. "In death, there can be no hope, no joy, no forgiveness… no Light. If redemption is what you seek, it is to be found in life."
Ysayle's heart falls. "Then what is to become of me in death?"
The Word's lips quirk up into a sly smile, and the glow in her eyes dims slightly. "You will have to learn that when you die."
"Am I not dead?"
The glow in the Word's eyes returns as she replies, "No, my daughter, you yet live, and there is much for you to do."
She can feel it. Ysayle feels herself fading out of the Mothercrystal's realm.
"Thank you," she calls to the Word.
As she fades out entirely, she hears, "Walk ever in the Light."
Ysayle can't feel her body. She can't see or hear anything. But with another sense, she feels something brightly, a beacon. As she reaches out to it, she realizes there are more just like it, with slightly different resonances, scattered as far as she can sense. It takes a moment for her mind to piece it together. Aetherytes. She's feeling the aetherytes. It is as if she's halfway through a Teleport spell, dissolved into the aether without a destination.
When she reaches out for one, trying to use it to coalesce back into existence, she feels it rebuff her, as if she hasn't attuned to it quite right. She tries again and again, growing more frustrated with each attempt. She knows this aetheryte's resonance. This is Akh Afah. This is her home, such as it is. Why is it rejecting her?
She tries again with another aetheryte. She's not likely to receive the warmest welcome in Ishgard, but she has more friends there than most people would assume. Ishgard's aetheryte, like Akh Afah's, rejects her attempted teleportation.
After several more aetherytes all reject her, she stops trying. Clearly, the problem lies not in the aetheryte network, but in her. Unfortunately, there isn't much she can do without any physical form. Time passes, she's certain, but there's no real way to tell how much. It could be hours, or it could be months.
One day, though, she feels a tug, as if something is calling out for her. She follows it and finds herself poured into the shape of her physical body, kneeling on a bridge. The Warrior of Light is there with Alphinaud, struggling to remove…
No. It cannot be. Ser Estinien's armor is run through with corruption, the eyes of Nidhogg stuck through armor and flesh both, and the Warrior of Light and Alphinaud are struggling to drive Nidhogg's influence from Estinien entirely. She knows somehow what she must do. She lays her hand upon Alphinaud's, finds a grasp on one of the eyes, pulling not at its physical form, but at its aether, and starts to loosen it. She keeps pulling, and pulling, and then she takes a moment to smile at the Warrior of Light as the eye finally comes free.
She's safe. Unlightly is safe, and with the loss of his eyes, Nidhogg is defeated once more. Ysayle's borrowed, semi-physical form dissipates once more into the aether, but now she remembers. She remembers what she's supposed to feel like, to be. She concentrates with all her might on what it felt like to be called to Unlightly's side, and she tries again to reform in Ishgard.
And she succeeds.
One moment, she's naught but a cloud of aether, and the next, the infamous Lady Iceheart stands in the aetheryte plaza in Foundation. The moment after that, she collapses onto the cold stone. Her body is exhausted, her mind unused to having flesh and bone, and yet she manages to stand up again. With unsure footing, she takes one shaky step, then another. Then another, and then she is running to the Steps of Faith - to her friends.
A Temple Knight on guard tries to stop her, but she brushes past him like a boulder through the snow. With a twist of her fingers, a column of ice raises the gate to the Steps of Faith, and she runs through it… and Unlightly isn't there, nor is Estinien.
There are crews of workmen repairing the bridge to Coerthas' mainland, but nobody else is present.
Until more knights catch up with her, of course.
She kneels, placing her hands behind her head, and calls to the knights, "I surrender."
The leader of the group makes a call on his linkpearl which Ysayle can't quite make out, then turns to her.
"Lady Iceheart?" he asks.
She shakes her head. "Once, but no longer. My name is Ysayle."
The knight nods. "Lady Ysayle, then. Pray follow me to the Congregation of Our Knights Most Heavenly, milady. The Lord Commander would speak with you."
As Ysayle follows the knight, she marvels at the city around her. Ishgard has fewer knights manning the defences than she's ever seen, and far more labourers rebuilding the city. From the attire some of them are wearing, she surmises many of the labourers aren't even Ishgardian.
"Have the gates of Ishgard been opened permanently, then?" she asks the lead knight.
"Ah, you're a sharp one indeed, Lady Ic- Lady Ysayle, forgive me. Aye, our walls are open to all who'll aid us. There's been a flood of adventurers and craftsmen, all of them come to rebuild and protect the See."
Hesitantly, Ysayle asks, "And the Warrior of Light? Is she among their number?"
"Oh, aye. I'm not a young man, milady, so I'm not easily taken by surprise, but when I saw Mistress Treadyn out there laying stone with the other masons, my heart took a right leap."
"I see," Ysayle said, barely holding in a laugh at the picture in her mind. "It gladdens me to know she is safe."
When she and her knightly escort arrive at the Congregation, they're shown right into the Lord Commander's office, where Ser Aymeric is conversing with his second-in-command. Both of them smile at her presence.
"Lord Commander," she says, bowing to Ser Aymeric.
With a smile, he bows back. "Lady Ysayle. I had heard of your demise from the Scions, and am full glad to see they were mistaken. Pray sit, be at peace. You are no enemy of Ishgard this day, and there is much you should know."
Warily, Ysayle sits down in front of his desk, and Aymeric takes his own seat.
"Ser Lucia, would you brew some tea for us? This meeting is bound to be a long one, and I daresay we could use it."
With a nod, his second-in-command (who is apparently a Garlean, Ysayle notes) leaves the room, and Aymeric begins to spin his tale.
He tells her of his father's plot to ascend to godhood using the second eye of Nidhogg, of Estinien's possession, of the new republic of Ishgard that replaced the Church as the city's legitimate government. He tells her of the attempts at peace, of the saboteurs, and of Nidhogg's final fight with Unlightly - which had occurred a few weeks ago, with Unlightly the victor, as she'd witnessed. She listens quietly, taking a cup of tea when Lucia returns and offers her one, and tries to imagine an Ishgard not ruled by the Church. An Ishgard at peace with the dragons, where she can sit in comfort having tea with the Lord Commander rather than being interrogated by the Inquisition.
Even knowing that she is living it, the idea refuses to settle properly in her mind.
"What is to become of me, then?" she asks, after a moment.
"The first act of the new Parliament was to declare a general amnesty for heretics and zealots alike," Ser Aymeric responded. "Legally, you are free to do as you please and practice whatever religion you wish, provided you harm no one and summon no primals. Practically, matters are somewhat more difficult."
Ysayle raises one silver eyebrow at him, and he clarifies.
"There are many among us who yet refuse to let go of the war, and I fear you may prove a tempting target for those who still clamor for revenge against the Dravanians. I have no wish to bring any charges against you, nor to levy any punishments. You are a free woman, milady, and I shall see it kept that way. However, to have you given free reign of the city - at least unaccompanied - would be to invite riots."
Aymeric takes a moment to think, then continues.
"You traveled for some time with the Warrior of Light and the Azure Dragoon, did you not?"
She nods.
"Yes, I thought so. If you'll wait a moment, I believe there is a simple solution to all of this."
The Lord Commander presses on his linkpearl for a moment.
"Unlightly? Ah, my apologies. I did not mean to interrupt you. No, no, 'tis nothing of the sort. Pray come to the Congregation; there is someone here who you should see."
Aymeric has scarcely taken his finger off the pearl when Unlightly rushes through the doors of his office.
"Alright, Ser Aymeric, I'm…"
The Warrior of Light pauses, her distinctive orange eyes staring at Ysayle.
"No, it can't be," she says simply. "This is abominable, even for Ascian trickery. Attack me if you must, speak to me if you wish, but do not dare to wear her face."
"I am no Ascian, Unlightly," she says in reply, holding her hands out cooperatively.
"Prove it. Tell me something only the true Ysayle would know."
"Denver," Ysayle says, her voice whisper-quiet.
Unlightly's eyes widen in surprise, but she quickly recovers, and Ysayle finds herself wrapped in the sort of crushing, giant hug that none but a Roegadyn can provide.
"I thought you were dead! We all did!"
"I thought much the same," Ysayle replies with a wry smile. "The Mothercrystal disagreed."
After Unlightly lets Ysayle go, Aymeric clears his throat to get the women's attention.
"Unlightly, you have a plot of land in the Firmament, do you not?" he asked.
"Yes, I do. Why?"
"You've said you're building a house. Would you be amenable to sharing it with Lady Ysayle? While she is included in the amnesty, I fear for her safety if she remains in Ishgard unaccompanied."
Unlightly doesn't take even a moment to consider it. She simply replies, "Of course!"
"And would this solution be acceptable to you, Lady Ysayle?" Aymeric asks.
"It would," she says, an idea taking form in her mind. "In fact, Unlightly, I would ask a favour of you."
Unlightly nods. "Certainly. What can I do for you?"
"Take me as your apprentice," Ysayle answers.
"Wait, what?"
"I would ask you to teach me to become a Warrior of Light."
A grin slowly spreads across Unlightly's face, and she declares, "You know what? I think I will."