Chapter Text
K’rae awoke to a gentle knock on his door. He blinked in the half-light of early morning, and moved to sit up – two welcome weights were pinning his arms, stopping him short. The two women complained in their sleep as K’rae freed an arm from each of them. He kissed each of them on the forehead and moved to answer the door, stretching and pulling a housecoat on.
He blinked into the hallway and was surprised to see nobody immediately in front of him. He looked around, and found a folded piece of parchment on the ground before the door. Upon opening it, he found a hastily-scribbled note.
K’rae, D’zentsa, O’tchakha & Widargelt,
Thank you for all your help, but I’ve gotta get back over the Wall before things get too loud.
If you’re ever on that side of the fence, come find me so I can thank you all properly.
All the best,
M’naago
P.S: keep an eye on
YdaLyse for me.
P.P.S:
K’rae folded the paper closed and looked up and down the hall. He saw a flash of strawberry pink tail flicking around the corner at the end of the hall. He let her go for now, a bit too tired to notice that she seemed like she was about to say something. For now, his mind was drifting back to the warm spot between the two bodies in his chambers.
K’rae slipped back into the room, dropped the housecoat to the ground, and sought about finding his spot again. A half-awake Tchakha was a bit slow in giving him space, and Zentsa greedily fought him for the blanket, but before long all three of them were back at rest, and everything was right with the world.
M’naago wasn’t the only soul to depart the Rising Stones in the days that followed; Yugiri and Gosetsu headed back for Doma, and within a day of their departure, word from the Alliance arrived. K’rae and the Scions were to travel to Ala Mhigo and seek the cooperation of the citizens there.
The spirit of improvisation grabbed K’rae by the shoulders and guided him, with surprising ease, to a solution for the Order’s Problems: He and the Scions would help smooth things over with the rebels, while the Order of the Fist would see to the local population’s woes. K’rae argued that most of them were local lads and refugees, H’raha and Widargelt most of all, and their goal was to build a pacifistic order. Where better to start laying the foundation of that than amongst the people?
To his surprise, the Scions agreed, on the condition that the Fist of Rhalgr travelled through the wall a few days after them. Widargelt and H’raha agreed to these terms, and made arrangements to travel to Baelsar’s Wall by foot, while the Scions made their way to Castrum Oriens.
Under the shade of the makeshift map tent in Castrum Oriens, Lyse gathered the Scions to her side and smiled at them all, hands on her hips. She looked K'rae in the eye briefly, an experience that K’rae was still getting used to. She had such bright and piercing eyes, it was a shame they had been hidden for so long. He was glad to see determination in them now as well.
“As you’ve probably heard, there are plenty of factions in the Resistance, so I’m taking us to see the one with the most influence.”
She gestured to a point on the grand map of the realm, and confidently tapped a spot that didn’t seem to have any clear landmarks as she continued, “Their headquarters are located in a place called Rhalgr's Reach ─ an old temple, to the east of here, across the Velodyna River.”
K’rae blinked in surprise, and seemingly missed what she went on to say about imperial patrols as his ears rang.
“Rae, is aught amiss?” Y’shtola asked, when the monk didn’t immediately respond to Lyse’s suggestion.
“If he’s not listening, I’d say that’s pretty normal?" Alisaie smirked, jabbing him lightly in the ribs with an elbow.
The jab and remark both went unnoticed -- K’rae’s ears flicked as he seemingly realized that he had in fact heard correctly. The memory of M’naago saying that name rose up and hit him like a zombie with a grudge. He turned to look at Lyse.
“Sorry, did… Did you say, Rhalgr’s Reach? The site of the Temple of the Fist?” K’rae asked cautiously, as if mentioning it would pop the notion of its existence like a bubble of soap. “I… thought it was a ruin?”
“You know the place?” Alisaie asked, in genuine surprise.
K’rae hesitated as he realized that the Scions hadn’t asked him about his past, when he knew about theirs… He cleared his throat, and squirrelled that thought away for now.
“Widargelt, H’raha and my father were all from there,” K’rae explained, a strange tightness forming in his chest and a hesitant smile on his lips. “From what I understood, I’d thought the land to be scoured, and the temple naught but rubble… You’re saying it’s still there?”
Lyse beamed, took K’rae by the wrist and said, “Well, now, looks like we have a lot to talk about! Buddy system, everyone, and K’rae is mine for this ride.”
With that, and without leaving room for much argument, Lyse dragged K’rae off towards the gates, and climbed up behind him on Mercury. She held him firmly around the waist, eagerly telling K’rae about the homeland he had never seen as they rode.
K'rae's fellow pugilist was a lot more animated than she had been the last few days, and talked at length about each of the landmarks they passed, and the people they would meet. As she described Rhalgr’s Reach to him, she seemed delighted to be able to welcome an estranged Gyr-Abanian brother home. However, K’rae politely refused the chance to be shown a temple to the East of the Velodyna River - he had made a promise with Zentsa, after all.
Shortly after introducing the Scions to the local rebellion leader, Conrad Kemp, Lyse took it upon herself to show K’rae around the basin valley while the diplomats did their duty.
They started at Starfall, a sizable lake crater, at the feet of the grand statue. The crater was fed by grand waterfalls that roared down the mountainside, which she had referred to as the Chakra Falls.
In the middle of the lake, built up on a stone platform, stood an elaborately carved stone monument. It stood in the shadow of the grand statue which had been carved into the very mountainside. The statue itself was easily taller than any building K’rae had seen in Ul'dah, and cleared the top of the crater of Rhalgr’s Reach by one or two storeys.
The statue itself, the Destroyer, depicted a wizened man dressed in sensible robes, the type that would do little to restrict one's movements in combat. He was depicted as carrying a staff like a walking stick in one hand, the other an upturned empty palm. His stoic expression felt like the calm before a world-swallowing storm.
At the top of the cliffs, almost hidden amongst the clouds, stood the temple of the Fist of Rhalgr. K’rae could see paths built into the mountainside, zig-zagging their way down the face of the mountain, before disappearing behind one of the shoulders of the great statue, presumably to emerge at the foot of the basin itself..
The pair stood on the shore, taking it all in.
“I remember stories of a comet -- an aspect of Rhalgr himself, that guided people to safety from floods during the Fifth calamity,” K’rae mused, crouching to touch the clear waters with his fingertips. “It landed here, and after the crater became a lake, the monks would cleanse themselves before making the climb to worship…”
“Wow, you really know a lot about this place… Are you sure you haven’t seen it before? ” Lyse laughed. “Taking all the fun out of me being a tour guide, you know?”
“Sorry… My father would always tell stories about the place,” K’rae admitted, seeming a little embarrassed as he was caught up in the old tales. “I... never thought I would see it with my own eyes… I just wish the others were here to see it too.”
“Well, we’re just getting started,” Lyse assured him, taking him by the hand and leading him across a stone bridge to the centre of the lake.
The roar of the falls was somehow quieter on this platform, despite being in the centre of the crater and open lake. Fashioned into the stone of the monument itself was the symbol of Rhalgr’s comet, and below it words of a high priest of the Fist of Rhalgr:
A storm of blood approaches fast,
Hells open, Heavens weep.
For no one soul doth lie beyond
The measure of His Reach.
“Pretty awe-inspiring, isn’t it?” Lyse mused, drawing K’rae’s attention away from the words on the monument, and up to gaze upon the face of the Destroyer, some hundreds of feet above them.
“I’ll say,” K’rae said softly. “It’s a statue of The Destroyer, right? This must have taken centuries to build,” he breathed, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the Chakra Falls that poured down around the site.
“Yup, that’s him -- the breaker of worlds himself, who guided our ancestors -- mine and maybe yours -- to these lands all those centuries ago, as you so rightly recalled from your stories… They might have been the same stories Yda told me on stormy nights. She wanted me to understand. To remember…”
Lyse then cleared her throat, and said, in the voice of one recalling a bedtime story, "At the end of the Fifth Astral Era, when the waters rose higher and higher, people all across Eorzea beseeched the heavens for a sign."
K’rae tried to stop himself from joining in, but couldn’t help himself - he too was familiar with the tales. "And lo, a burning star appeared in the eastern sky, and led all the way to these mountains of Gyr Abania…” he recited.
Lyse smiled, and they finished the parable together. “They who were saved by His grace pledged to honor and revere Him. To devote themselves to great works without and within..."
"A storm of blood approaches fast,
Hells open, Heaven's Weep.
For no one soul doth lie beyond
The measure of His Reach."
A pause, as the story resonated between them both. K’rae took a breath, closed his eyes, and followed his instinct. For a moment, the only sound was of the rushing of the Chakra Falls, and perhaps some distant training. Or perhaps it was the resistance? Maybe some other souls, separated from this instant by time rather than distance.
The pause stretched into a moment, in which K’rae felt at peace with the surrounding environment… He could feel the spray of the falls, the heat of the sun on the back of his neck, and a tingling in the air. It felt like he was close to something. It reminded him of travelling with Widargelt, and those moments in the heat of battle where a new chakra was on the verge of opening.
A fleeting moment, which passed quickly as he realized Lyse was staring at him. She looked right through him, seeing to the truth of that moment. She was a pugilist, and while not of the same school as K’rae, seemingly knew that something was on the verge of happening. She smiled knowingly, as if expecting an answer to a question she hadn’t posed.
“Nobody’s actually explained what that last bit meant,” K’rae admitted. “It must be important, since someone took the time to carve it here…”
“Well, what do you think it means?” Lyse asked with that same curious smile.
“It… sounds rather ominous,” K’rae mused, gesturing to the grand basin, and the statue of the Destroyer himself. “It sounds like a warning, or a threat?”
Lyse shook her head, and K’rae felt like he might have failed some sort of a test. “Yda explained it to me: ‘A day will come bringing strife and sorrow that one may escape. Waste not these precious hours, but in quiet preparation make strong the body and mind.’ I don't know if that "storm of blood" is finally upon us. But if it is, I have to believe that everything we've been through, everything that has led us to this point, will see us through in the end.”
K’rae saw her expression falter, and she was now looking solemnly at the monument before her. He had never heard her speak her mind this often and not have it involve punching someone. Maybe that had all been Yda, or at least Lyse’s vision of her. He was curious where the mask ended and Lyse began, but for now, she would likely need time to figure that out for herself.
And then Lyse caught herself, shaking her head with an embarrassed expression. “...Agh! Sorry. That was all a bit melodramatic, wasn't it? Let's keep moving, shall we? Off to the infirmary!”
The young woman turned and moved on, leaving K’rae to dwell upon those words… He would meditate on those later, he decided, as he moved to follow in her wake.
Lyse showed K’rae around the more recent additions to the area -- the infirmary, the traders, the training yard. Soon enough, they were walking through the cloistered markets, which had been built in what once could have been taverns or old shops that had surrounded the lake in the height of the temple’s population.
“What about the Temple of the Fist?” K’rae asked curiously as he caught up to Lyse. “It would be good to see it before the others get here.”
“Oh, nobody’s been up there in decades -- it’s not safe to travel up there, not since the Mad King’s orders,” Lyse nodded. “Several tunnels and passages were collapsed in the attack, both by the Monks and the king’s men alike.
“Oh,” K’rae murmured, his heart sinking. He had been quietly excited to see the halls where extended family had trained.
Lyse seemed to notice his disappointment, and pet him on the back. “Between you and me, I hear that the rebellion have been getting requests from a persistent scholar as of late -- a lady by the name of Marjorie -- who’s been chatting with Conrad. She’s apparently a historian who’s obsessed with the Fist of Rhalgr’s teachings… Maybe when this all blows over, and we get some labourers in to clear the paths, you can all go up to see it together?”
K’rae nodded, giving her a gentle smile, and then looked up past her to the temple. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I’d like that.”