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The group's search for answers has taken them from The Far East, to the shores of Vylbrand. Their continued research into corrupted aether leads them to investigate a reclusive "Doctor Nylor", a name given by an ailing man--Abner Funk--that had a curious and yet similar sickness as Anchor during a visit to The Salt Strand.
Things quickly go wrong when the group splits to investigate the lead on two different fronts: Nabi and Ghoa devise a plan to infiltrate a theatre posing as entertainers, while Anchor and Shael travel to Upper La Noscea to follow a lead concerning the doctor's apparent employment of ailing individuals.
Separated and without contact due to a number of troubling circumstances, multiple plans fall into action over the course of the following days--with the help of some allies and friends in the midst--all eventually converging on Doctor Nylor's residence.
Of course, no amount of planning could prepare them for what surprises lay in wait...
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Some closer-ups.
This pic took entirely too long to do. That is all.
Oh, just that and the fact I appreciate the people involved in this ongoing story of stories. It's been years actual years and that is pretty cool.
Nabi combed over each document, squinting to make out the letters and the numbers as they had been arranged, there within the dimly lit corner she had been occupying. A small lamp had been afforded to her, along with a low set side table, one small enough to fit in the space that was allotted within the cage.
Mister North had somehow managed the impossible, to make her prison more comfortable. The Doctor, in acknowledging that her well-being was in his sister’s best interest, acquiesced to Gideon’s requests for more amenities, including a pillow, a comforter, a small bed, a side table, and a cushion for her to sit on. As well as possible future visits from Luri, and even a privacy curtain for when she was allowed to wash herself. The aether dampener was still enclosed around her ankle, but the food delivered was personally tested by Mister North for drugs and poison, as well as for palatability. There was even a small cooking set placed just outside the cage for Mister North’s use.
None of these things really mattered to Nabi, however; a cage was still a cage, and she was still at the mercy of the Doctor’s next whim. But until she could attain her freedom, these amenities allowed her to recover faster. It reminded her of when Lord Musa allowed for similar comforts beneath the mountain. How she had encouraged Anchor to eat more and allow her to treat him then, to best prepare him for his next match. So that he could win, and they could gain their freedom.
This was like that, Nabi kept telling herself. She had to get stronger to be ready for whatever may come.
Having access to her own balms and herbs would improve the healing of her wounds. But what was even more important, was that the Doctor also allowed her to review what he has learned of his sister’s conditions so far. Some of his research confirmed what Nabi already knew, but there was other information that piqued her curiosity.
Estrid’s corruption, as Nabi suspected, was mostly concentrated in her head. Her left eye and her brain were what was obvious, but the Doctor went on to speculate that it was her memory and her emotional centers that seemed to be where the effects were noted the most. Even though her entire left eye was replaced by the crystal, Estrid noted no loss to her vision, no change, in any real way, to her sense of perception. But she was afflicted at times with hallucinations and delusions. And her wild mood swings and unreliable cognition were easy to observe.
The Doctor’s theory was that she was exposed to the corruption through inhalation. “A great explosion of energy, where the air was filled with corrupted sediments” Estrid had become greatly ill at first, but then recovered without her current deformity. But over the ten years, the symptoms began to develop, one by one.
The number of years, it couldn’t be a coincidence. It was the same for Anchor. Could they have been exposed to the corrupted aether in the same way? At the same place? Which meant that Anchor was right to suspect the Nylors in holding the key to his past, and to those he sought. It was entirely possible that Estrid was one of the people he was seeking.
It was with this discovery, that her thoughts inevitably returned to Anchor. Nabi had been deliberately trying to keep him from her mind, for with him, returned all other emotions she was barely keeping at bay. Even though it was his words she held onto for strength in her weakest moments.
But the night before she and Ghoa returned to the Nylors, she couldn’t get in contact with Anchor or Shael. Had something happened to them? And where was he now? What if he was hurt and she wasn’t there? And if he wasn’t? Nabi didn’t want to imagine the look on his face if he was to discover her like this. The pain she would see there, she couldn’t bear it. Just the thought of it made her tremble.
Focus, Nabi. Calm yourself.
Her fingers curled tighter on the edges of the parchment as she blinked away the moisture from her eyes. The Doctor’s notes went on to theorize that the rate of deterioration quickened over time. And more exposure to corruption caused even a quicker rate of spread. That too caused her stomach to churn, knowing where Anchor went, but Nabi forced herself to keep reading.
She couldn’t help but notice that there were some gaps in the Doctor’s notes. There was no mention of a promise of a cure, or of Abner Funk or other people he had hired to mine corrupted crystals. Or the dampeners he must have used in the gloves he had given them.
It was obvious the Doctor was not sharing all his notes. And from the illness Nabi had spied on Abner and Edith, along with her own personal experience, Nabi had a sinking feeling about where much of Egil Nylor’s knowledge came from. And the cruel nature of his experiments.
What was she to do now? She still had no means of escape from this place, not yet. So then, does she cooperate with the Doctor as she had agreed under duress? She truly did want to help Estrid, the poor woman was sick. No one should suffer like that. But did that mean she should share with this Doctor all that she knew? The fact that she could calm the agitation of their corrupted aether with a song? But that she too still had no cure for it…
But then what of Anchor? What of his need to right the wrongs that were done to his former siblings? Did that mean he would start with Estrid? If she was involved with the people that had enslaved him…
Could Nabi stand in Anchor’s way of what he needed to do? Especially if it meant helping Estrid, which in turn, would help him?
Nabi bowed deeply in thanks as she received the small linen pouch from the miqo’te merchant. Her buoyant yet formal demeanor garnered an amused look and a nod from L’zuhjha, the latter just tipping her red beret in return. It was the usual expression Nabi encountered when she offered the bow that was customary in Kugane; she had been told more than once that such formal gestures were not needed in the west.
It was a hard habit to break, and… Well, she was forced to admit there remained more than a little nostalgia in that she still wanted to carry parts of her home with her wherever she traveled.
There was a restlessness about her through the last few bells, as her mind darted back and forth over too many questions without any answers. Nabi found herself meandering about through Limsa Lominsa, eventually coming to a stop where she had a full view of a lighthouse in the distance. She stared at it, almost longingly, for a long time before looking down and regarding the parcel in her hand. She pried it open, letting the contents spill out onto her palm. Three small pearls glimmered with a reddish-gold hue, reflecting the final rays of a setting sun that also set afire her view of the sea beyond.
And as all things did of late, it reminded her of Anchor.
It had been only a few suns since he left for Upper Noscea and yet every night, the vacant space next to her felt all the bigger, the nights felt colder, even in this humid coastal weather.
I am being childish, Nabi chided herself with a shake of her head. They’d even spoken over the pearl the night before. He reassured her of the mission he would carry out with Shael in the lighthouse near Aleport, with hopes of joining them within a sun after. And yet, as she kept his pearl close to her heart all sun, there was no word from him about his return. Nabi felt selfish in wishing for some kind of an update, when Anchor and Shael needed to be focusing rather on their own safety and success.
As I should be. It was a sober reminder to herself, for what awaited on the morrow. As excited as both she and Ghoa were about being invited back to the Nylor mansion, once they met both the Doctor and his sister, Estrid, it became clear that things would be more difficult and complicated than they had planned.
‘I trust some of the residents' eccentricities are now clear.’
Mister North had subtly insinuated before the visit that the Doctor was dedicated to his mysterious agenda, and that his focus was solely about his sister’s well-being. What he left out was that the Doctor, while polite and intelligent, seemed singularly obsessed with his research, throwing all caution and possibly even welfare of other people to the wind.
Without hesitation—even while all were all right there, listening—he assumed loudly that he would put Nabi to the test, to make sure that she was safe in Estrid’s presence. Nabi understood why he might be alarmed with the immediate affect his sister seemed to feel in her proximity. Doctor Nylor did not give Nabi an opportunity to explain that she has had prior experience with the very specific ailment that Estrid was suffering under.
She recognized the bright amber crystal that was glimpsed beneath Estrid’s hood, one that had completely replaced her left eye and was growing jaggedly outward. It was the same crystal she had plucked from Anchor’s arm, when they had removed the gauntlet that Elam Grave had forcibly placed there. Nabi was certain that Estrid suffered from the same corruption that Anchor did. Only, hers seemed far more advanced, in that it was visibly growing out of her, and also affecting her mental state.
Nabi had her own theory—the fact that her magic and aether were having some influence over Anchor’s corruption was now expanding to include anyone that had the same taint to their aether.
Did this mean that Estrid and Anchor’s path might have crossed at some point in the past? None of the corrupted crystals in Limsa were of the same element as Anchor’s; all the ones they had studied here were those that had exploded upon Eorzea upon Dalamud’s fall. Their respective energies were distinctly different.
Nabi felt her heart race faster at the thought. This was a breakthrough. Someone else that had the same sickness that Anchor suffered from, and had a sibling that was researching solutions to the problem! Surely, if the Doctor and she could put their minds together—along with Ghoa, who was far more trained in aetherochemistry—Nabi was certain they could achieve more breakthroughs.
‘But whatever it is you hope to gain from this family, I hope it is worth these diversions.’ Mister North’s warning came to mind again. ‘Doctor Nylor's words to me have hinted that his scientific efforts have not been altogether painless on his part or his subjects.’
The possibility of her being hurt scared her, without a doubt, but she could not let it stop her. Nabi placed her hand flat upon her abdomen to calm the fluttering there. She knew that science and medicine sometimes involved pain. If it took tests to reassure this Doctor that she was no danger to his sister, and that they were more likely to find answers together than alone, then enduring some procedures was certainly worth it.
“What be the plan then? If somethin’ were tae go wrong. You have your way out? Has ya been mindful of their numbers? How many he’s got in service? Blaggards high on their coin are trouble, yara’æ. Ya still hasn’t made clear how exactly ya see this goin’ from dancin’ an’ singin’ tae talkin’ ‘bout corrupted crystals and–oh, I dunno, how he’s fuckin’ with that Funk fellow with his supposed treatments!”
Anchor’s words from their last correspondence suddenly roared forth from her memory, that Nabi winced visibly. She inhaled deeply, to let the briny coastal air cleanse her thoughts, and perhaps remind her of their calmer conversations. She delayed their stay at the Nylor’s by one sun, just so she could let Anchor know all that was being planned. Of course, if he was absolutely against it, then she would have to figure out another way.
But Nabi was confident she would make him understand. Mister North had come up with an escape plan just in case things turned dire, and it was sound. Nabi wasn’t going back alone, she would have Mister North and Ghoa there too. And now knowing that this Doctor and she must share the same goal of finding a cure for this corruption, this had to be their next step. She was sure that Anchor would understand.
And he was near Aleport, which wasn’t far. He and Shael may even be back tonight or tomorrow. Nabi was certain of this course, now more than ever.
She squinted out into the distance, seeing fog rolling back in as the night approached. The sea looked calm, but she couldn’t see far beyond. It could not deter her. It would not.
‘Yara’æ.’ Jude’s softer voice filtered in. Just remembering the word brought a smile to her lips, and a calm over her heart. A firefly, he called her. ‘Like those ones that alight all them dark corners.’
With warmth lingering against her cheeks, Nabi slid the pearls back into the pouch, tucking it away. She needed to go find Ghoa and Mister North, both of whom were gathering supplies. But if she hurried, perhaps they could spot some fireflies by the time they returned to Mist.
The chocobo let out only a small huff of protest as Roen nudged him forward, having been woken from sleep to bring both her and Anchor back to the tavern where they had started the afternoon.
It had been an eventful sun to say the least. In the bells that Roen had come to know Anchor Saltborn, an ailing man that was left to her charge by Shael Stormchild, Roen had come to discover rumors about an eccentric nobleman named Doctor Nylor, who was possibly poisoning people with corrupted aether and conducting unscrupulous studies right in the heart of Mist.
What was most surprising was that one of her oldest friends and sometimes confidant, Gideon North, had also been recruited by Shael to help a small number of her friends meet this Doctor. Never in the passing years that Roen had been corresponding with Gideon could she imagine their reunion would come about in this fashion.
But that anticipated meeting would have to wait, since by the time Roen was at the Nylor estate, it was well after midnight. She was promised a visit with Mister North in the morn, which seemed to have partly appeased the otherwise disagreeable Anchor Saltborn.
Roen knew better than to believe that he became suddenly amenable from her inquiries alone, she suspected that Shael and Brick had something to do with the hyur agreeing to return to the tavern rather than marching into the Doctor’s estate. By his words, Shael and Brick have “got things handled” when it came to his xaela acquaintances.
And yet, something still felt off. Whatever was said to Anchor, it still didn’t satisfy him completely; the consternation upon his visage never eased. He only barely resigned himself to rest for the night. Then there was the miqo’te who seemed too sprightly for a stroll – in a dress, no less – in the middle of the night within the Nylor grounds. That in itself would have garnered a liking from the paladin, but Diya – as the miqo’te introduced herself – then proceeded to provide the details regarding the xaelas in question. Only, Roen had specifically and carefully asked about Gideon North only.
But all these details on their own didn’t warrant much more than a passing curiosity. So, why was there a nagging dissatisfaction in the back of Roen’s mind? Was it the number of guards she saw around the estate? Or the fact that something bothered Shael enough, that these details were deliberately not shared with her? Did they tell Anchor what he needed to hear to simply keep him out of trouble? The man wasn’t well enough to involve himself in any conflict as he was. Even Roen could see that clearly.
She gave the estate a look as the wagon slowly rolled past. The wealth of the place was obvious even from this distance. An expansive mansion surrounded by an immaculately maintained garden, and even with a private theater built onto its west wing. A few lights flickered from the windows of the residence, but the frame of the large home was darkly set against the white bluffs of Mist. Could something nefarious be afoot within?
Roen would have her answers in the morn. It would not be the reunion she was hoping for, but find Gideon North she must. She trusted that he, of all people, will not mince words in telling her the truth of the matter.
Mwah: Three people they’d like to kiss. (For Roen!)
Hmmmm. This one is hard!
1) She would like to kiss Nero again. They did kiss on more than one occasion, and each of those memories are precious to her now. Although she misses much more than just the touch of his lips, the memory of their first kiss is one she would never forget.
2) There was a boy she liked when she young. It was back in Garlemald when she was a teenager. He was a son to their housemaid, but they played together and climbed rooftops and trees. He loved to sing and she loved to ride. He didn’t mind that she was a tomboy who liked to practice swords while he read books and studied magitek. They never kissed, but there were times, even in her younger years, that she did fancy herself doing so. She has not thought about that boy in a long time.
3) Honestly, I had a real tough time thinking of a third one. It has to be something almost subconscious since she would never actually entertain the thought seriously. But… there were moments where Gideon North attended to her in her time of need, lending emotional support and even laughter. Perhaps just for a second, such a thought might have crossed the corner of her mind very distantly.
If ever mentioned, she would deny it fiercely since she knows he is with another.
Had a go at looking for an ask thing so I could return the favour, but couldn't find one within the limits of my attention span. Here's a question pulled from my arse instead, for any of your characters: What memory makes you laugh the most when you recall it?
(( That’s because I don’t reblog those RP asks! I like getting them and answering them… but I don’t reblog them. I… probably should though, I guess. >__> ))
Roen gave that question a long pause, as if to search her memories for one such an occasion. Why was it about laughter of all things? Sessions of sparring or particular lessons or battles, these were much more easier to recall. She tapped one finger on the hilt of her sword in thought.“Ah!” she finally said, an odd but amused expression touching her lips. “There was that one occasion where Mister North refused to cross a small stream. I had lured him onto a large boulder on the steep side of the creek. He braved the descent to sit with me awhile, but when we needed to then cross the water, he looked absolutely dismayed. Probably because he didn’t want to soak his freshly pressed butler suit. I offered to carry him on my back…” A chuckle rose then. “Oh the look on his face!”“I think it was when he was retreating from me that he slipped. I tried to catch him, and then I slipped, and we both ended up waist deep, sitting in water. I have never seen him so mortified.” She allowed a quiet laugh that shook her shoulders, before she sighed. “Perhaps not as amusing to others, but those who knows Mister North… it was a sight to see. And probably none would ever witness again.”((Thank you for the ask! :D )) (( @banquoviaquo ))
