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Aymeric,
If this letter reaches you as planned, I hope not too much time has passed since my departure for the Crystal Tower. Doubtlessly you have been worrying your pretty little head in your usual fashion over my absence. Please, do not overly worry, for I am safe and sound! I find myself in a whole other world that is called Novrandt, which seems to lie parallel to ours. I have made the acquaintance of a pixie called Feo Ul (who you must have met if you are reading this) and they have promised to deliver any of my future letters to you, too. However, I make no promises on the regularity of my reports, as I do not know how much time I will have for letter writing here.
This world is most peculiar. For one, there is the ever-present light. The people here say they haven't had a night in over a hundred years if you can believe it. I have had trouble sleeping, for my body seems unable to tell the distance between day and night without the guidance of the sun and the stars. And yet, there is a strange beauty to this land.
I arrived in an area called Lakeland, and it bears some reminiscence to upper La Noscea, with its lush vegetation and clear lakes. And yet, it feels very otherworldly, for their entire flora are the most vibrant purple you have ever seen.
Purple, Aymeric! I could scarce believe my eyes when I woke up here. The land here practically begs to have a song written about it, and it itches terribly in my fingers to pull out a quill and try to attempt just that! There's also this unbelievably sweet scent in the air, almost cloying, yet not unpleasantly so. I have asked around and it seems to come from a local variant of a plant not unlike the Amaryllis flowers we have at home in the Shroud. Now that I think on it, I doubt it grows in Coethas' icy climate, so I apologize if this comparison means little to you. I shall just have to attach a sample flower to this letter so you can regard it for yourself.
As for my actual purpose here, I am yet unsure. I have finally met the person behind that mysterious voice that had been calling me and my fellow scions for so many weeks. It belongs to a rather mysterious man calling himself the 'Crystal Exarch' who seems to be in charge of the city I am currently in. That's right, they have their own Crystal Tower here and they have built an entire city around it, which they call the Crystarium! The Exarch told me it is the self-same tower that stands in Mor Dhona, merely a future version of it that travelled back in time to this world. It reminds me of all the trouble we've had with the primal Alexander, and my head hurts even thinking about a repeat of that incident. For now, I will focus on getting my bearings here and beginning my search for my fellow Scions, who I've been told have been scattered all over Novrandt.
With love,
A'ravih
Aymeric,
this world is dying. I thought I knew what the end of the world looked like when I saw the reddened skies as Dalamud slowly fell from the skies, five long years ago, or when Omega and the primal Shinryu battled over Baelar's Wall and set the world aflame. It's different here. This world is still, held in a choking grip of oppressive light that drowns out all life. I have travelled to the edge of where the flood of Light stopped, and it was beyond anything I could have imagined. Towering waves of crystallized light, frozen in eternity, as far as the eye can see.
And beyond? An empty wasteland where nothing grows.
It's very quiet here. Apart from the ever-looming wall of light on the horizon, much of this land which they call Ahm Araeng feels not unlike the sandy deserts of Thanalan. There’re ruins about everywhere, and Alisaie tells me there used to be a great civilization here before the flood. Looking at the grandness of the ruins, I do not doubt her for one second. I do admit, it is rather amusing to receive history lessons from Alisaie of all people! I still have not gotten used to the ever-present light, and I doubt I will any time soon. Here in the desert especially, there is no escape, no shelter to escape from it, for even a brief respite of shade.
The only people living here are desperate folk; outcasts that came here looking for a final resting place for they have no other to go to. I think the worst thing about this place is the lasting feeling of hopelessness that just permeates the air and seems to hang over everything like a thick shroud. And yet I am still glad I came here first, be it just to gain an inkling of the true calamity that has befallen this world. The way Alisaie and that Crystal Exarch fellow look at me, they expect me to pull some magic trick out of my bag and magically return the night. They have this unquestioning hope in their eyes, utterly convinced I can fix this world and save them all. Every time they look at me, I can feel another weight being placed on my shoulders.
But worry not, heavy is the mantle of the Warrior of Light, and I am used to it, I suppose.
I don't yet know if it is within my power to save it, but I shall be damned if I do not at least try.
Yours,
A'Ravih
My dear Aymeric,
Since my last letter, I have travelled to the land of Kholusia in search of Alphinaud, who was residing here with the goal of forging political bonds with the neighbouring city state of Eulmore. You know my aversion to politics, so I am afraid I cannot give you much detail on that matter. Kholusia itself is beautiful, too. The land is dominated by monumental white chalk cliffs that split the land in an upper and a lower area. From what I have seen of the lower parts so far, I find myself reminiscing of La Noscea again. It is surrounded by a deep blue ocean, and the smell of salt in the air and the cries of the sea birds overhead are very comforting. And yet - the land is almost devoid of people. It's the sin eaters, I have been told. The further one lives away from the few large cities, the worse the attacks are, and of the few that survive, most abandon their homes to seek shelter closer to the city. They all camp in front of Eulmore, in haphazardly put-together shacks that look like the next strong gust will blow them over, and you can almost taste the desperation hanging in the air. They live off the scraps that the Eulmorians throw at them and are glad for even that small mercy.
Ah, Aymeric, Eulmore. What to write of Eulmore? I find it hard to find the words to describe what I have seen in that city, for it is a very different kind of evil then that that has befallen the rest of Novrandt. It is a wealthy city, not unlike Ul'dah, but poisoned. The people there live in splendour and excess, with no regard for the ruin of the world outside their windows. It is like they willingly lose themselves to their apathy, and in doing so they have almost grown monstrous. And yet, there is something foul in this city; something than runs deeper than this superficial excess. I cannot quite put my finger on it yet, but I am no Alphinaud either, so for now I shall leave the matter in his capable hands.
I wish you could see him! He has grown up so much since I last saw him, it is honestly astonishing. He has grown into a fine young politician, and a kind and compassionate man besides. You would be proud of him as well! I hope you do not grow too lonely in my absence and overwork yourself as you are wont to do. Pray, give Lucia my regards and tell her to drag you home if she must. And I will know if you do not deliver that message, my dear.
You are ever in my thoughts,
Ravih
Dear Aymeric,
You were doubtlessly already worrying in your usual fashion for my well-being, and I do apologize for the long wait for this letter. All is well here. We have now travelled to the faerie kingdom of Il Mheg, the self-same fairies as Feo Ul, the pixie who has been delivering my letters to you. They promised to carry on that service, despite their new obligation as the fairy king. Alas, I am getting ahead of myself.
Il Mheg is beautiful beyond imagining; it is a land full of wonders and mystique and it feels wild, almost like it is alive itself. It is the land of the fae, and as such, there is very little mortal presence here. The very air is infused with a potent sort of magic, and everything here seems just a little too vibrant, just a little to saturated to be entirely normal: the grass is greener than green, the lakes and rivers are bluer than blue, and there's entire rounds of rainbows hanging in the sky. It feels like I wandered off the face of the earth and right into a storybook. I have never seen a place more otherworldly and magical, and I am still unsure if it wasn't all a dream.
Its inhabitants are the fae, of which you are loosely familiar with. I learned that there's more tribes than just the pixies, and not all of them are friendly towards mankind. They are all very similar to the very land they live in, untamed and beautiful, yet also dangerous and wild.
But I digress! Enough of all my sightseeing and lollygagging and more of my actual task here! It will delight you to hear that there is indeed a clear-cut path to saving this world, and I have already made good progression on it. It involves slaying these monsters called Lightwardens, that serve as the pack leaders to the Sin Eaters. If our theory is correct, defeating them should also put an end to all the regular Sin Eaters. It also has the added benefit of getting rid of that everlasting light that plagues all of Novrandt. There appears to be one of them in all the major zones of Novrandt, and it will no doubt delight you to hear that I have already put an end to two of them. It is a taxing affair, but it is made all worth it when I get to see the people's reaction to the night sky returning to them. These people have lived without it for over a hundred years and seeing the open joy and wonder on their faces over something so simple as the night sky serves to awaken a new kind of appreciation for it in me, as well.
Alas, that is not all, as the Lightwarden that I've defeated here in Il Mheg used to be the fairies' former king who suffered an ill-begotten fate. Once I had slain and thus freed them, the fairies actually offered me the now vacant position of king. Hah! Can you imagine, me, king of the fairies? Now that would be a tale to tell, wouldn't it? But fear not, as I have hinted at earlier, the lovely Feo Ul took up that position in my stead, and they make a far more beautiful king than I could have ever been. I shall just have to sing songs about this tale instead, as this is far closer to my true calling. If this tale continues in this fashion, I have reason to believe that my return home is not as far away as I previously thought.
Yours and ever hopeful,
A'Ravih
Dearest Aymeric,
A lot has happened since I last wrote. And yet, I find myself increasingly weary to speak or write of these things. I know how ironic this must sound to you: me, running out of words? An impossible concept, you would say. And yet, this journey is unlike all the others I have undertaken in my time as the Warrior of Light. Mayhap it is merely the growing exhaustion from carrying the light of the defeated Lightwardens within me, and it will pass soon enough. It surely must, for what kind of lousy Warrior of Light would I make if a little light was too much for me to carry? But enough of my griping, for there is good news indeed!
I have slain the next Lightwarden, who had been residing deep in the Rak'Tika Greatwood. This forest is indeed a great one, and it feels truly old. The trees here grow higher than even some of Coerthas' many spires, and the green tapestry of the Black Shroud feels like a newly sprouted offspring in contrast to these woods. The air here is thick, and heavy with the weight of ancient memories that lie buried in the ruins of a great empire that once stood here. I am no great scholar like the other Scions, just a humble bard, and yet even I can't help but feel awe at the sheer scope of what lies buried here.
Far more curious is however a different development that none of us could have foreseen: a new player has appeared and insists on meddling in our affairs. He calls himself Emet-Selch, and he is a blasted Ascian. He claims to be here to make peace with us and offers to work together, but Hydaelyn be damned if I trust him! For now, there is little we can do but suffer his smug face and unasked-for commentary, but by Halone, do I want to smack him every time he opens his mouth! And yet, there is something about him that feels faintly familiar, almost calling out to me. I do wonder about the things he has told us, and the weight of those seeming truths lies heavy on me Rest assured, I will watch him very closely, as it can only be a matter of time till he shows his true colours and betrays us, as Ascians are wont to do.
Yours and ever watchful,
A'Ravih
Dearest Aymeric,
I miss you. After many winding roads and detours, we have defeated the Lightwarden of Ahm Araeng and returned the night to this part of Novrandt, too. Here, in the desert, the night sky seems boundless and the stars seem to burn twice as bright as they do on the Source. I am scared There is only one Lightwarden left to vanquish. Y'shtola says I might not make it Defeating them has left quite a toll on me, and I cannot wait to return to Ishgard and rest for a long little while. I cannot wait to feel your arms around me once more; to have breakfast in bed and to have you read your knight's tales to me. You truly have a beautiful voice and listening to you soothes me greatly. We might even chase down Estinien and force him to have dinner with us. Hah! Just imagining his disgruntled face when he won't be allowed to wear his armour lifts my spirits greatly! Just a little while longer.
Yours,
A'Ravih
Dearest Aymeric,
I have killed the last Lightwarden in Kholusia. Things went…a little wrong.
That is a lie.
A lot of things went all kinds of wrong, and I am afraid I messed up quite bad.
I don't think I can fix it this time. An old comrade was taken hostage by the Ascian, and I have to try to save him.
I am afraid we'll have to postpone our dinner just a little while longer.
I wish I could have seen your face one more time.
I love you.
Forever yours,
A'Ravih
Aymeric,
It's finally over. I am coming home.
Ravih
****
Aymeric felt the paper crumple in his hands as he slumped down on his desk and raised his hands to his forehead. Halone be blessed for this tiny slip of paper that somehow represented all his hopes, brought to him with a cheerful "Here you go, laddie" and a wink, before the pixie disappeared in the usual burst of light. All that went through his head was a mantra of "Ravih is coming home. He is alive. He's coming home. He isn't dead", over and over again. Maybe if he kept repeating it, he would start believing it.
After the last letter had arrived, Aymeric had sat in silence for a long time. It had felt so much like a goodbye, and Aymeric had been choked up by the near overwhelming feeling of helplessness at his inability to do anything to help. He knew that Ravih was special, that there were things only he could do as Hydaelyn's chosen, but that didn't mean it was any easier having to watch from the side lines without being able to do anything. It had been bad enough during the Dragonsong War, when he had to send him into danger time and time again, for the sake of a nation that wasn't even his own, but it was even worse now, when Ravih was in an entirely different world, far from Aymeric's reach. These letters he had received had been his only lifeline to Ravih for so long, his heart had gotten used to racing the second he spotted a familiar envelope appearing on his desk, on his bed, on his mantlepiece. One time, he had even found a letter placed on top of his private loo at his estate, no doubt having been placed there by an especially mischievous pixie.
It did not help that they arrived so infrequently, leaving his poor heart no chance to get used or expect them with any sort of regularity. That did not mean that he wasn't as grateful for any single one of the letters as a man in the desert dying of thirst seeing an oasis, because he was. A new letter meant that Ravih was still alive, still out there fighting to save this foreign world in his usual selfless fashion. Aymeric loved him for this, of course, but sometimes he cursed his heart for allowing him to fall in love with someone that was torn to so many different places and responsibilities, if only it meant that he couldn't just whisk him away to safety and guard him from all the evil in the world. Not that Ravih would want to be sheltered like that. Deep down, Aymeric knew his lover was a restless soul, ever wandering, looking for a new tale to tell or a new song to write. But by Halone, that did not ease the loneliness of his aching heart in the slightest!
He missed Ravih so much it almost physically hurt. He missed seeing his mischievous smile after he had successfully pulled of a prank on young Alphinaud; he missed seeing his ears twitch in interest when Tataru brought in freshly baked goods; he missed hearing him purr in content when Aymeric scratched behind his ears after a long day of work. He missed all the thousand little things he had never realized just how much he cherished them, until Ravih was gone. And now he was coming back. He shivered. If from anxiety or anticipation or fear of it all being too good to be true, he could not quite say.
For how long he remained slumped over his desk, he did not know. It was a tentative knock on his door that startled him from his stasis. Handeloup's voice rang through the door: "Lord Commander, there is a messenger here from your estate with a missive for you. Shall I let him in?"
With a jolt, he pushed his chair back and almost impulsively sprang to his feet. He near rushed to the door and impatiently opened it, only to reveal a slightly startled Handeloup. Behind him, in front of the desk at the entrance of the Congregation, stood Michiel, one of House Borel's errand boys. Aymeric pushed past Handeloup and headed straight towards Michiel. "Your message, what is it?", he asked, trying his best to contain his impatience.
"My lord, M...Master A'Ravih has arrived at the estate about half a bell ago. We have of course let him in and done our best to provide him all the refreshments he might require, but he waved all of us off in favour of some rest. I hope we have not overstepped."
Aymeric waved off his concerns with a smile. "Of course not. As I have previously stated, he is always welcome at Borel Manor, and you did right to let him in. Thank you for notifying me, you may run along." At that, the boy seemed visibly relieved and lost some of his obvious tension. With one last hasty bow, he made his way out of the Convocation.
Aymeric was conflicted. On the one hand, he wanted to do nothing more than end his day early and return home to A'Ravih as fast as his feet could carry him, and yet…there were still a good few hours left in the day and his sense of duty did not allow for him to abandon his post on such a selfish whim. Lucia was also not currently in Ishgard, instead overseeing a training excursion to Camp Dragonhead. Maybe Handeloup could…?
Almost as if sensing his thoughts, the second commander of the Temple Knights turned to him with a barely contained grin on his face and cleared his throat. "My lord, if I may? It is obvious that your heart longs to be somewhere else, and even if you were to stay, your mind would be distracted. Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off? Me and the other knights are perfectly capable of holding the fort on our own for the rest of the day, and, if you allow…you could use a spot of rest, too." He closed his mouth and looked almost bashful at having addressed his Lord Commander in such a direct fashion.
"I…", Aymeric started before he cleared his throat. "I appreciate your offer. But it would not be proper for the Lord Commander to set such a bad exam…"
He was interrupted by Handeloup raising his hands. "With all due respect, Sir. Just go to him. "
Aymeric could feel himself blush and fought down the urge to cover his cheeks with his hands like an embarrassed maiden. He cleared his throat again and surrendered his half-hearted protest. "Very well. I suppose if it's just this once…but I insist that if anything at all comes up, do get me at once! That is my only condition." Handeloup merely smiled and saluted.
With as much dignity as Aymeric could muster, he went to collect his things from his office and finally made for Borel Manor. It took conscious effort to slow his steps to a more moderate pace, as it would not do to leave Ishgard's citizens wondering just what had their Lord Commander hurrying through the streets in such a fashion. By the time he had reached his home, his heart was hammering in his chest. He quietly let himself in and waved off his steward's concerned expression at his early appearance. Bernard had been in House Borel's service for as long as Aymeric could remember, and he practically considered him family. Now, he took one look at his Lord's face and smiled knowingly. "I shall let the rest of the staff know not to disturb you. Stew for tonight is already on the stove, just let us know if you'd like to take your supper with Master A'Ravih in the dining hall or rather have some brought up to your quarters."
Aymeric smiled and nodded. "Observant as always, Bernard. I shall let you know as soon as I am able to tell, but do not wait for us." And with that, he finally followed the strings on his heart that were pulling him to his rooms upstairs. He carefully sneaked up the creaky old stairs, conscious of his rather clunky armour. A knight's armour was many things but build for stealth it was decidedly not. As quietly as he was able, he opened the door to his living quarters and took a look around. At first glance, they were empty. It was when he listened more closely that he could hear soft, almost inaudible snoring from his bedroom.
Carefully, he began to discard his armour onto the stand in the corner next to the fireplace. It took him longer than he would have liked; the task being further complicated by missing a second pair of hands for assistance and by attempting to not disturb his wayward lover's rest in the other room. Once Aymeric had managed to discard all his armour (he rather felt like a peeled lobster after particularly long days wearing it), he finally sneaked over to his bedroom. Inside, the light was dim through the curtains that had been drawn partially closed. Approaching the source of the light snores, he felt his heart go soft of the sight of A'ravih.
His lover was lying on his bed, curled up tightly around his own tail and breathing softly. Aymeric noticed with worry that he looked far more haggard and exhausted than when he had seen him last, even while he was asleep. It was then that A'ravih's face scrunched up as if in pain, and he began to twitch in his sleep. Aymeric noticed him raising his hands, waving them as if to defend himself from an unseen enemy. Concerned, he stepped closer to the bed and softly called his name. "A'ravih?" No response. He tried again, slightly louder this time. "A'ravih, wake up. It's just a dream!" When he still got no response and A'ravih's twitching seemed to be getting worse instead, Aymeric reached for his shoulder and shook him lightly.
Faster than he could blink, he felt a hand snatch his arm and the tip of a knife being raised under his chin. He froze. "Who…what…Aymeric??", a still raspy voice came from below him. The knife disappeared as fast as it had appeared and Aymeric felt himself being forcefully dragged towards the pillows instead. With a startled grunt, he landed on the Miqo'te's deceptively small frame and laughed. "Missed you…", he heard a mumble from beneath his chest. That sobered him up quickly and Aymeric shifted from burying A'ravih to lying on his side instead. He never once let go of his embrace.
In this position, he could finally lock eyes with A'ravih's mismatching green-and-red ones. "I missed you too. More than I care to admit", he murmured and softly caressed the other's cheek. "When I received your last letter, I admit, I had feared for the worst. It sounded so much like a goodbye - " he broke off.
A'ravih lowered his eyes. "It was a goodbye" he mumbled. "I honestly thought that that was the end; that there was no coming back from this. And even though I came out the victor in this tale, it does not feel like a victory. Just hollow." He fell silent. Aymeric could see him struggling to find words. When A'ravih looked up again, there was a pain in his eyes that had not been there before he departed for the Crystal Tower, and Aymeric felt his heart break as he imagined the suffering that he must have gone through to look so damn haunted.
A'ravih took a deep breath. "I cannot speak to you of all the things that have happened just yet. I promise I will share everything with you eventually, but for now, I find myself weary and spent. I am just so tired, Aymeric. And I know the fight is not yet over, and Alphinaud and Alisaie and all the others are still stuck over there but I cannot - " his voice broke and he let out a small, broken sound, before he started to cry helplessly.
Aymeric gently shushed him and started moving his hand over A'ravih's head in slow, deliberate strokes. "It's okay, my love, take your time. Even the saviour of the world needs rest and respite from time to time, and no matter how much the people might sing praises to the mighty Warrior of Light, you are only one man." He chuckled softly. "I admit, sometimes I find it hard to remember that as well, with watching you fight gods and topple evil empires like it is nothing, but Ravih - you don't have to carry that burden all on your own." He gently raised A'ravih's chin, so their eyes met once more. "Let me help carry that weight, just for a little bit at least. Let us rest for a while. Have that dinner with Estinien that you wrote about and force him into a presentable outfit for once. Hm?" A’ravih gave a quiet, wet-sounding laugh at that.
Aymeric gently pulled the smaller man towards his chest and placed a light kiss on his forehead, before resuming his slow and gentle strokes over his head and down his back. He could feel A'ravih burrowing deeper against his chest. "You are alright, my love. I can't help but thank the Twelve for the blessing that is holding you in my arms once more, alive and warm, and no longer a world away. It might be quite selfish of me, but I can't help but think that I'd like you for myself for a little while, and the world will just have to wait a little bit before it can have you back."
They lay in silence for a while, the only sounds audible were the faint noises of pots banging in the kitchen downstairs and the low crying of A'ravih against his chest. After a while, the tears started to slow and were replaced with a soft sniffling, before eventually fading away entirely. It gave way to a comfortable silence between the two of them, just soaking up the other's company after their long separation.
For how long they lay there, it was hard to say, but eventually A'ravih spoke up in a subdued voice. "I do not know what I have done to deserve this; to deserve you, of all people. There are many things I regret; things I have done and things I haven't done, paths I could have walked but didn't. And yet, this is something I can't bring myself to regret. Loving you has always been so damnably easy, and for the past months, it was only the thought of returning to you that kept me going.” He drew in a deep breath before saying with a firm voice “I don't know what the future holds or where this tale will lead, but as long as you are there to walk the path alongside me, I am not afraid."
Aymeric hummed lowly in acknowledgement and pulled A'ravih into an even tighter embrace. Together they lay there, as the sun slowly set over Ishgard's snow-covered spires and arches, bathing the city in a deep ember glow. They lay there while the night crept in, the snow glowing brightly under the silver moonlight while the stars twinkled overhead. Two souls, intertwined, waiting for a new day and a new dawn to break.
****