New chapter of Heart and Fury out now! Watch that girl have really complicated feelings about her brother here!
(Or, if you hate going to secondary locations, you can read it under the cut!)
As soon as Alisaie found a spot where she could watch over the site of the inevitable execution, she followed up on her promise to Fray, pulling the soul crystal from its resting place. Holding it close, she called his name once more, only to be met with silence.
Very well then. If that’s how he wanted to be, then she would simply have to take initiative. Fray was an immaterial being, she knew. One who was blessed by half-existence by some quirk of the stone she held. And, as she had just recently discovered, could speak to her within the confines of her own skull, offering assistance in a way a truly separate being would be hard-pressed to do.
He did not exist without. So he must instead exist within.
She closed her eyes, blotting out the world, focusing on naught but her own breath and heartbeat.
Without Fray’s assistance, it was not so easy to fall under. Especially not when the world above still demanded her attention so. Aedwyn could be led to her execution at any moment still, and if Alisaie was distracted at that moment, there would be no saving her.
But, if she did not seek out Fray, it would not matter.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Ignore the world outside and focus on her heartbeat. Ignore it all. And just
Go
Under…
This time, the shadows roiled. Coalescing into fragments of scenes before scattering just as quickly. Brief glimpses of memory, flowing into being and fading away just as fast, threatening to drag her along with them.
Not that she would let them, of course. She had a goal. She just had to remain firm. She walked forward, letting each one pass by until she found her mentor. She could just make out what each vision was before it faded away, recognizing such locales as depths of Dalamud’s fallen shards and the roads of Eorzea.
They fell behind her as she passed them by. As much as the concept of “behind” existed here, at least. She grumbled in annoyance. Of all the times for Fray to make himself scarce, did it have to be now? Every second she spent searching for him was one where Ishgard could execute their prisoner with her never even knowing.
Was she even making progress towards him? Between flashes of memory, the world was nothing more than an undifferentiated morass of shadows, and she could see no sign of her progress.
Nor any sign of Fray. Her pace began to flag as her determination wavered. Of course she couldn’t just make him show himself. To need her mentor and find no sign of him was just the way of things, and her thinking that she could simply brute force her way into changing that? Folly.
Alisaie’s quick walk slowed to a solemn trudge, then to a stop. She was being dramatic. She knew that. She just needed to gather herself before pressing onwards once more.
But her legs didn’t follow her command, remaining rooted to the ground. She stayed still, unable to force herself to take a step as memory coalesced around her once more, shadows giving way to white marble and deep green tile, the spitting image of the Noumenon. In one of its many alcoves, standing next to a desk piled high with tomes, was herself, temporarily free of her brother as he picked through the towering shelves for the resources required for his latest project, whatever it had been at the time.
It was as bizarre a feeling as it had been the first time, seeing herself from without and yet recalling events so clearly as they progressed that there was no cutoff between the Alisaie of the present and the Alisaie of the past. She felt as if she was back standing at that desk herself, buried to her nose in coursework.
So involved in her readings in fact, that she hadn’t noticed the approach of one of her fellow classmates. A miqo’te boy with short brown hair, shy enough of full grown that he couldn’t stoop far without losing the advantage of height to lord over her. “Ah, Alisaie! Fancy seeing you here. I would have assumed you’d be off somewhere you didn’t have to see us peasants!”
A huff escaped her. A grave mistake in front of a nuisance like him. “What do you want, E’nim?” she said with a note of barely-contained venom.
“Hostility already? A poor showing from a child of one of Sharlayan’s most respected families,” he said, putting on a face of faux-concern. “Your grandfather’s poor morals must have rubbed off on you.”
One should never engage with hecklers such as him, she knew. It was wisdom from her father, mother, and brother alike. The correct course of action by any standard she knew was to put up a veneer of impassibility and let him grow bored until he gave up. She had even done so to him before, ignoring him and walking away to leave him alone with his own frustrations as he tried to besmirch Louisoix’s good name. She wasn’t even the real target of his ire, as he was much more interested in her brother, only choosing to bother her when Alphinaud was beyond his reach.
But it did not change the fact that her blood boiled at the comment now just as it did then. She had kept the anger lodged in her throat, though, of course, the pest took notice of her clenched fist and jaw and couldn’t help himself but to prod further.
“My! Such a temper! All the work your father does to clean up the Leveilleur name, all for his children to soil it again with foul attitude and childish dreams of leaving us all behind to play hero among the Eorzeans. What would he think?” He couldn’t help the smirk that slowly spread across his features.
Just as she couldn’t help the prickling of tears in her eyes, or the rush of heat and blood in her ears. She wanted to shout at him, how dare you! Grandfather was a greater man than you’ll ever be!
She had to settle for hissing between clenched teeth, “I am not in the mood for your games, E’nim. Go bother my brother, as I know you so dearly want to.”
His ears pinned, tail flicking. He was very near to giving up, relenting to resume his harassment another day. However, he could not refrain from wagging his hateful tongue one last time.
“It’s true. You’re no fun to argue with, what with you being the greater of two fools. So incapable of anything more than plaintive cries for anyone to please put respect on the name of that traitor you call Grandfather,” he ranted to her as she tried to remain expressionless. “It’s incoherent is what it is. After all, what kind of ‘good man’ would run away from his country, offering himself to strangers an ocean away?” his stupid grin nearly covered his whole face, growing only more malicious, “what kind of man would run away from his family for it?”
That was it. Alisaie glanced between him, his distance from her face, and her hand, balled into a white-knuckled fist. Before she could reason with herself, it landed against his nose with a hard crack.
He reeled away, only barely catching himself on a bookcase, clutching his face as a bright red smear formed between his fingers. He cursed her in an even stuffier voice than before.
Alisaie stood up as straight as she could, crimson flecks adorning her own hand as she stared him down. “Don’t you dare speak about him that way,” she said, keeping tears from her eyes, “he was a greater man than anyone in this city!”
Footsteps came from behind her, light, even, and steady. As they grew closer, a shadow fell over the both of them.
“Pardon me, what is going on here?” said a voice she immediately recognized as her brother. Gods, it had already been a mistake to act so impulsively, the fact that Alphinaud had been nearby to witness it only made it moreso.
“Your rabid sister just broke my nose!” E’nim said, nasally.
“And what, exactly, did you do to provoke her?”
“He insulted our grandfather, for one thing,” said Alisaie. The question was not directed to her, but like hells she’d leave the story in the other boy’s hands.
“Oh, and that is reason enough to strike me? Perhaps you should reconsider careers, Alphinaud, if this is what you share blood with. I doubt the Forum will have places for interventionists and warmongers like your kin.”
“My goals are irrelevant to the matter at hand, to say nothing of your assumption that my nature is decided by a person other than myself,” said Alphinaud. “Or likewise, that my sister’s conduct reflects in any way upon our grandsire. Her choosing action over words bears little meaning for the rest of us who share her surname. Rest assured, I shall prove a much more productive target than she for your sorry attempts at debate.”
Alisaie shrank in on herself, hoping that E’nim was too distracted by her brother’s words and that her weakness would pass without notice. Thankfully, their fellow student seemed willing to take the bait, quickly diverting his attention away from her.
“And, sister?” Alphinaud shot her a glance, a brief flash of concern or the like in his eyes before it vanished beneath his haughty Sharlayan stoicism. “We shall talk later.”
… The memory reached its end, the scenery slowly dissolving as Alphinaud’s words formed a pit in her stomach. She slumped as his words still ran about inside her skull. He’d always had his moments of annoyance, but gods, he had become so much worse since Louisoix’s disappearance. The boy who had always been so concerned for his own image then seemed to drown in it, determined to make himself into an idol of stiff-lipped rationality, playing games of politics as practice for his eventual journey to Eorzea.
Even if he had to step on her to get there.
A hand rests on her shoulder. It doesn’t startle her. Instead, she turns to its owner, and she already knows his identity. “Took you long enough to show up,” she said to Fray, now sat down next to her.
“I did not expect you to come here on your own,” he said.
“I said that we needed to talk. I was not about to take silence as an answer.”
“You will have to forgive me my weakness, it was…” he searched for his next word. He did not seem to find it. “… It shall not happen again.”
“Good. I will need you to keep me fighting no matter what when the Temple Knights make their move. That poor woman’s life depends on us, now.”
Fray nods. “And we cannot afford to fail again.”
The only defined sound for the next moment was her own heartbeat, just under the white noise of the abyss. Alisaie elected to break the silence first. “Was showing me this memory your decision?” she asked.
“It was not,” Fray replied, “but perhaps we can still eke out some understanding from it, regardless.”
Alisaie frowned. “So my brother was a pompous arse sometimes in his school years. I already knew that. What else is there to learn?”
“Was it only in his school years? This memory seems too fresh to all be in the past,” said Fray.
Her jaw clenched. “That is not your business,” she said firmly, “and even if it were, he is still my brother. He’s been a part of my life since the moment I was born, I could never consider him a source of pain.”
“And yet, he seemed to take no issue in considering you a source of shame.”
The words sent a spike through her chest. She wanted to say it wasn’t true, to shout it and make Fray regret ever suggesting such a thing, but the truth was obvious in the fact that she had relived this memory in the first place.
She still remembered how he had been when they had delved into the remains of Dalamud together. Just as arrogant as he had been back at home, if not even more egoistic since the success of his little stratagem.
Operation Archon, he had called it. And he had accused her of being too attached to Grandfather’s memory.
Her grip on her legs tightened. “Let’s get out of here. Gods know how long it’s been since I arrived.”
Fray shrugged, “if that is what you wish.”
Before Alisaie could ask how, he snapped his fingers.
And she was awake once more, left to pull herself up from a slump.
In the setting sun, she could see that the path between Dragonhead and the ravine nearby remained mercifully untread.
“They won’t try to carry out a trial in the night. Too easy to ambush them then,” said Fray, standing beside her once again. “It would be best to sneak in some rest before sunrise. Make a meal of those fallen men’s rations too. You’ll want to have energy when the time comes.”
At a glance, the surroundings offered nowhere to rest. Alisaie did not relent, however, considering everything from the trees to such brazen moves as nestling herself in one of the camp walls’ many corners.
The answer came to her however, as she looked down into the ravine. There were a few caves along the inside, offering some shelter from the wind. While the cliff face was quite sheer, she had a great deal of skill with climbing. Not to mention how little the Temple Knights would expect an ambush to come from below.
Her decision made, Alisaie climbed down the rocky path to the bottom of the ravine. She would prove herself worthy of Eremi’s faith. She would save Aedwyn’s life. She would not allow another girl to die while she was helpless to do anything about it.
She would not be something to be ashamed of.
