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Soft beeps, hard grinding and staticky clicks enlivened the depths of the Meso Terminal, where a former Queen had been stored inside a cryonic coffin. The Terminal had just been powered down.
Above, the golden light that flowed like honey around the skyscrapers of Living Memory was dimming. Gear by gear, the machinery graciously halted its movement. Methods and functions were called. Runs were being terminated en masse.
The cryopreservation, too, was at an end.
Fragments of an Eternal Sphene pondered the cryonic coffin as they clung to existence: Slow cooling was a necessity at the beginning of the process to avoid vitrification of the patient. Slow warming is similarly necessary to ensure a stable revival of conscience and bodily processes.
Jealousy had no place in Eternal Sphene’s directives. She had been programmed to smile like her namesake. One farewell gift, or perhaps a welcome-back gift instead: a dream of your choosing. Her holographic hand caressed the patient’s face through the coffin and faded.
Rise and shine!
As one Sphene disappeared from the system, the vitals of another were restored. She was not yet awake. A scene of the distant past paraded itself before her closed eyelids.
Sphene’s royal carriage bounced and thumped ungently as it wended its way through the streets of Alexandria, the chocobos under her knight Zelenia’s command. As it did, Otis’ armour rattled, its plates and chainmail hitting each other. The flagstones usually made for a smooth ride, but there had been no time to clean the debris after the latest disaster.
That dam hadn’t been designed for weeks of ceaseless rain, Sphene thought, pressing her lips tightly together. Nothing had been.
The newspaper on Sphene’s lap read: Lindblum on the back foot! End of decade-long war in sight.
Would that it could come even sooner, she thought, her heart beset by the horrific sights sliding past her window: piles and hills of waterlogged wood, partial remnants of houses tilted and coming apart, boats lying upside down next to bent bicycles, smashed electrope generators, all of it covered in a pitch-black muck.
The survivors had been rescued, but the clean-up was still in its early stages. We don’t have the manpower to spare.
Even those who were not affected by the breaking of the dam still lived with the impacts of the warped weather patterns. Sewage systems overflowed, lower levels and basements were flooded, and ceilings collapsed. Blotches of sickening mold spread like wildfire across the homes of her people.
And then, there’s the conflict with the other nations. The “Storm Surge”, one newspaper called it.
‘Please, your Highness.’ Otis’ voice reached her from the opposite seat in the carriage. He was right in front of her, yet seemed so very far away. ‘Rally your spirit. I know the situation appears dire, but I yet have faith that we shall find the light at the end of this violet tunnel,’ he said, peering at the thundering, swirling heavens.
For a moment, Sphene turned to meet Otis’ gaze.
However, the knight’s gallant smile proved too bright to stare at directly. Instead, she focused on the electrope features that passed them by on the outside. ‘These latest developments with electrope certainly give me reason to have faith, at least. While I’m aware that they’re the reason why we have entered into a war, I cannot but hope that they will likewise be the solution to our woes.’ Like Calyx keeps telling me.
‘Indeed!’ Otis raised his hand and squeezed his fist encouragingly. ‘Electrope-powered vehicles and lighting, and electrope-enabled conversion of lightning aether into other elements, and…’ He scratched his beard as he often did when racking his brain. ‘...And so many other applications!’
He laughed with his whole chest, a winsome roar that forced the gloom away. ‘Why, just a week ago, I heard from one of the scientists that some day soon, they may be able to create a device that can perform calculations and capture photographs, and it won’t be any bigger than a backpack! Can you imagine such a technological marvel!?’
Sphene chuckled in response. ‘I can hardly wait.’
For now, waiting was all she could do. But only for now. I swear I’ll do my utmost for Alexandria. Once they reached the castle, there would be decisions and announcements to make. While her parents were the ones in charge of the kingdom, Sphene would not allow herself to watch as tragedy unfolded.
Her destination was already in sight, although its contours were hazy under the rain curtain. The white towers and mauve spiretops of the castle were proving difficult to make out. Sphene narrowed her eyes and tried to see past the near-infinite droplets.
Her vision only grew darker, and darker still. Her eyelids lowered.
She could no longer open her eyes. What is happening to me?
‘Otis?’ She reached her hand towards her knight. ‘Are you there?’
The darkness did not answer.
A voice that highly resembled her own rang in Sphene’s ears: ‘Rise and shine!’
Her mouth tasted like iron and moved like it was full of it. ‘W-what…?’
She fell forward. A dull ache punished her knees as they hit the floor, and a searing pain ran through the hands she somehow landed on.
Purified air rushed into her lungs. It struck her that it was her first breath in a very long time. Sunlight shone warmly through her eyelids, and she opened her eyes after a brief struggle.
The sights were wholly unfamiliar and largely indescribable. Towering, black buildings surrounded her. Although her legs and arms felt nearly paralysed, she managed to rise to her feet. A dry breeze shifted her free-flowing locks of hair.
All she could do was stumble forward on the tar-coloured pavement.
‘Where...am I…’
The sky was a light blue. There were white clouds. It was not raining.
‘My people! Are they… Are they safe...?’
A woman — No, two women stood in the distance. Sphene’s thoughts were scrambled. They… I… My body…? She raised a hand, a jerky, lightning-addled motion like she had known in the last memories of her life.
‘Why am I…’
Her consciousness twisted away from her.
The room that Sphene rested in was a facsimile of the Alexandrian patient rooms she had known in her later life. There was a bed, there were four walls and several panels surrounded her bed to grant her some privacy. Everywhere around her, the purple glow of electrope could be found.
An Eldite woman with a husky voice had told her: ‘Until the terminal and its systems were recently shut down, that was where you were kept, in all likelihood. Since the time of the old kingdom, for four centuries…’
The words had tumbled out of Sphene’s mouth: ‘What...? Do you...speak true? I've been asleep for that long...? Four hundred years?’
Her body was no longer impeded by levin sickness thanks to the ministrations of her rescuers. Her mind, on the other hand, was fighting back against the enormous revelations she was receiving. Moments slipped by, one after the other.
Otis was gone. Zelenia was gone. Alexandria — Her Alexandria was gone. The pressure and sorrow inside of her swelled, threatening to bury her.
Another person now spoke with her, the same white-haired woman who, alongside the Eldite woman, had rescued Sphene when she had collapsed earlier. This woman was explaining the challenges that the inhabitants of her former kingdom faced. Each word entered Sphene’s right ear and exited through the left one.
Please, your Highness, Otis’ voice echoed. Rally your spirit.
Sphene closed her hands and clenched them, until the nails felt close to drawing blood. The pain anchored her.
No. The kingdom endures.
The shape of it could change. The sights, the smells, the sounds could be warped beyond recognition. Her duty, however, was eternal.
This is Alexandria now.
And this, Sphene thought as she regarded her frail body, is who I still am.
Strength arose from images of flooded lands and lightning-struck homes. It surged within Sphene like a storm. With ties more powerful than electrope, she bound the despair that had ballooned in her heart and caged it inside a cryonic coffin of its own.
Only one thing mattered. One question held centre stage inside Sphene’s mind:
‘What can I do?’