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“My friend, what do you think you’re doing? Get down from there this instant.” Zenos kept his voice casual, but his eyes were quite serious.
Eleonora, standing on the edge of the wall of the castle with eastern cliffs of Gyr Abania to her back, answered him just as casually, as Garlean soldiers streamed out onto the courtyard, but seemed unsure of what to do. “I’m leaving. Please don’t get the wrong idea, my Lord. You have been a surprisingly gracious host, considering the circumstances. But surely you don’t intend to keep me locked away in a castle here like a pretty little pet in perpetuity? That isn’t your style.”
“No, I suppose we would both grow bored of such an arrangement. But where exactly do you plan to go? As talented as the Champion of Eorzea is, even you cannot fly.”
“Such is true, but I don’t need to fly.”
In truth, she did not wish to do what she was about to do. It had been a long time since she last had used her immortality to solve a problem. Even when it would have been more convenient, she swore an oath to keep it a secret, and a secret it would remain. But she had to convince the Garleans that it was some sort of clever trick. In a way it was, but one that still required the death of her physical body before being spat out of the Aetherial sea wherever fate or Hydaelyn (was there a difference?) decided to put her. She could only hope fate would kindly place her somewhere convenient for a getaway. It was a gamble, but one she knew she had to take if she didn’t want the Scions getting themselves killed trying to rescue her. It was her job to protect them and put herself in the line of fire, not theirs. If only they could know why she was willing to take such risks. But she would keep her secret to her grave…whenever that would someday be.
For now, she had places to be, and a body to be rid of.
“What are you playing at?”
She smiled. “The Hunt, of course. I know things about these lands that you do not. But I’ll give you a hint to start. Don’t go looking for me down the cliffs. You won’t find me.”
Before Zenos could reach her, she leaned back and hopped off the ledge. They locked eyes for brief moment, and she put a finger to her lips, before plummeting into the void below, as he looked down in shock after her.
Perhaps, had she the chance to plan this all out better beforehand, she would have tried to smuggle the whistle to call her Yol to come and swoop out of the air and catch her on its back and soar away to safety. Such would have made for a grand spectacle. But Eleonora had left her Yol back in the Azim Steppe where it belonged. Her chocobo could not be expected to perform such a maneuver to save her. She could not summon a Primal to pluck her from the sky, nor even a facsimile of one in an egi, for she had no books to summon with on her person.
And so, in a way that she found rather anticlimactic, she fell through the mist and shattered her body on the ground far below. She didn’t feel it, at least. When she opened her eyes, she was, as she had dearly hoped would be the case, back in Rhalgr’s Reach, good as new. With the aetheryte tucked away out of the main thoroughfare, she could quickly pick herself up and dust herself off like nothing had happened, though she still felt shaken by the whole ordeal. She hoped she would not have to repeat that trick again anytime soon.