Chapter Text
“You require an amaro? Just a moment, and I shall saddle our swiftest beast to fly you to the island.”
“That’s… not where I’m going,” Climbing Condor said, shifting slightly and folding her arms. “I want to go into the Tempest. To the depths.”
The aspiring tamer looked at her incredulously. “The open water? To the depths of the Tempest!? Our amaro can swim, yes, but to reach the ocean floor…”
The dark-haired Roegadyn bit her lip, realizing her mistake, and shook her head. “Not into the water, no. I need to—survey the storm, and penetrate to its center. I have a stone to drop that needs to get as close to the eye of the Tempest as possible. So I will need an amaro that is sturdy enough to make the journey there and back, despite the winds and darkness.”
“Ah, I see—some kind of magickal project.” The Zun nodded at her. “I have just the steed in mind, she’ll get you right where you need to go and back safely, never fear.”
A brief flash of blinding light burst through her vision again, and Condor staggered, grasping her head. Hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, she glanced over and saw Urianger looking around the landing, the other Scions behind him. She gritted her teeth and turned away, moving to block the Elezen’s view with a stack of crates. As the tamer returned, holding the lead of a particularly muscular-looking amaro, she grabbed a handful of coins out of her pack and tossed them to the counter, then ran forward, yanked the reins out of his hand, and vaulted herself onto the creature’s back.
“Condor! Wait!”
Muttering a general apology, she kicked the mount’s sides, launching her into the air and urging them up as quickly as possible. Glancing back, she saw the Scions waving at her, then resolutely turned her eyes forward again. Her friends no doubt wanted to help and accompany her, but she was nearly out of time, and the thought of transforming into a Lightwarden and killing them all… no. This was better.
The flight was long, but she was used to long flights, and the amaro’s wingbeats were swift and steady. Sooner than she’d expected, they were entering the turbulent edges of the Tempest.
As the winds picked up, she felt a stirring at her shoulder. The fragment of Midgardsormr was tightening its grip, curling around her more firmly in preparation for the buffeting gales. She smiled to herself, glad that there was at least one companion she could take to the end of her journey without fear for his safety. The dragon had long ago confirmed that the creature which accompanied Condor in her travels was merely a fraction of his attention and spirit, transmitting information like a linkshell, and any harm that might befall it would not be reflected back to its source. Condor could only wonder if Midgardsormr was still observing her adventures on the First or if the connection had been broken by his falling into dormant sleep, not to mention her travel to this reflection of the Source, as he had not spoken to her in some time and never responded to anything she said or did. Nobody else seemed to notice the presence of the tiny dragon, even when it flew rings around her head and breathed glowing blue plumes of aether. Perhaps he was only an illusion that the ancient being had implanted into her mind, but for whatever reason, she always found his diminutive manifestation a comforting shadow.
The intensity of the storm increased, the amaro struggling to maintain its course, and then suddenly the pressure changed and a beam of eerie overpowering Light from above came piercing through the clouds. Condor gasped at what looked like an open tunnel straight from the sky to the ocean surface churning in a circle revealed by the mists below. This was the eye of the Tempest, and her destination.
She urged the amaro to a lazy spiral in the clear air and took a deep breath. “Feo Ul… I need you,” she said quietly.
Seconds later, there was a burst of flashing lights and the pixie appeared, looping in the air once before hovering beside Condor’s head as the amaro continued to circle. “Oh, my [precious sapling], whatever have you gotten yourself into?” they exclaimed, staring at the surrounding storm. “Do you need rescuing again?”
“Not at all,” Condor said, doing her best to project confidence. “In fact, I’m on a quest to rescue the Crystal Exarch. I just need you to find the Scions and tell them where I’ve gone.”
“That you’ve come to the Tempest?”
Condor took a deep breath as she slung her leg over the amaro, sitting precariously on its side and guiding it down closer to the frothing waves. Her mount snorted reluctance at this instruction, but obeyed, eyeing the distance warily. “That I’ve gone into the ocean at the bottom of the Tempest,” she replied.
“Into the ocean? Oh, my [blossom], well I know you can breathe water, but you have surely chosen a most dreadful location for a swim!” the pixie said, fluttering circles around the anxious amaro.
“Please make sure this amaro gets back to the Crystarium safely, and help the Scions find me,” Condor continued, her breath coming faster as she approached the ocean’s surface. “By then, it should be… over, one way or another, and they’ll be safe. Thank you, my flowering branch.”
The pixie cast her a fearful look. “My [sapling]—that sounded like a farewell,” they said uncertainly.
Condor only smiled in reply, then took a deep breath and pushed herself off the amaro’s back. Any reply Feo Ul might have made was drowned out by the wind and splash of her impact, and she didn’t bother wasting any time treading water, instead immediately turning into a dive and pushing for the depths.