The Angels’ Gauntlet
High within the Peaks of Gyr Abania lies a cascade of water whose colored froth is reminiscent to the flower which shares the same name. Known as Heather Falls, this roaring wall of waves sets the backdrop for a shrine, which was erected to honor the dearly departed, and the constant rushing of Heather Falls muffled the sobs whilst the spray from said waterfall hid one’s tears. Thus was this shrine aptly dubbed: “Hidden Tear”.
Once outlawed by Imperial rule, this religious site did not see even the simplest of services for some time, and the remembrance of loved ones would be negated. With Ala Mhigo’s liberation, however, this shrine could once again see such practices. But it was not tears that would be shed this day, for this site was to be used to serve another purpose...
At the center of the shrine stood the Mythrite Sultan himself, Thiji Higuri, meditating on the top of the stairs. The shrine was adorned with purple fabrics and myriad jewelry dangling from the copse of trees. It was one of those rare moments where Thiji would have the look of serenity upon his features.
The sun rose over the Peaks, as the Warden brought forth the promise of another day. The eccentric noble was clad in what seemed like Gyr Abanian garb suited for strikers, with no small amount of Near Eastern influence made visible on the turban and braccae. Around his waist was a sash of colibri pink which stood out from the ice blue attire he is usually seen wearing, and with it carried the faint scent of brimstone and mirror apples. This was the Sash of the Blind Maiden, an item said to be found within Amdapor Keep. Why it was of such significance to the Mythrite Sultan was yet to be explained.
After a bell’s worth of meditation, footsteps were heard from the south, through the morning mists. The surrounding area was clear, save for a few ruud suud corpses - no doubt recently slain to keep the shrine safe from predators. Though the roar of the falls would muffle the sound somewhat, Thiji’s ears did not fail him, for he concentrated on the approaching footfalls which cascaded into a chorus of three, then of six. Another slew of noises would reach his ears as well, for the rumbling of an engine is what followed. A solitary airship made its descent, disembarking on the edge of the Mason’s Falls. This ship bore the symbol of the Higuri Regalia, and carried with it numerous ladies - one of whom was Thiji’s mother, Mimizo Higuri, Valide Sultan of the Regalia. As for the ones accompanying her, these were the personal retinue of maidservants who answer only to House Higuri: Thiji’s Angels.
Thiji opened his eyes and slowly turned his head, catching the silhouetted individuals breaking through the fog within his peripheral vision. Reaching for his weapons, he took them in hand as they activated with a soft hum and gave off an emerald green light, with an aetheric sigil surrounding the “knuckles” - a testament to its burgeoning power. These were a pair of Anima Weapons forged by Gerolt Blackthorn and Ardashir Balyk known as the Nyepels, and this particular pair has reached its apex, or Lux form. The presence of martial and magical weapons meant that a fight was about to ensue. But for what purpose?
At last breaking through the mist was Susuna Suna, Treasurer and CFO, with rapier and foci in hand. To her left was Meriri Meri and Luluma Luma, and on her right, Lelena Lena and Shishira Shira. Three individuals from the airship jump off from the deck to position themselves just at where the land meets the water: Koyuki Koki, Sarielle de Emeraude, and Swoztu Wuotwyrstwyn. They seemed to be on stand by for healing and succor just in case the battle turned fierce. The others still standing by the airship were the Head Secretaries and Veeveena, along with Sosona, whom was piloting the airship. A final pair would make themselves known via the sound of beating wings from the north, over Heather Falls. Astride a griffin of white down - a True Griffin, specifically - was Himmeya Twelvefist and Isja, who landed just beside the healers to spectate.
“He’s wearing it - Lady Mamai’s sash,” Luluma pointed out.
“Oh... the lordship’s first intended, aye?” Meriri asked with a hushed tone. “Wish I coulda met the lass...”
“Then let’s honor her memory by giving it nothing short of our all today!” Susuna declared as she stepped forward. “We’re in the right place for it, so let’s give the dearly departed a show!”
The others nodded and prepared their weapons, staring down Thiji, who maintained his position as his eyes scanned the environs. With all the contestants in place, silence had once more fallen over the area, with only the rushing waters to keep them company. Then, after a few long moments of waiting, the Angels heard a command from the Valide Sultan through their linkpearl...
“Begin.”
As if on cue, Susuna attached her focus onto her rapier, as motes of ice and fire danced around the weapon in synchronicity. Meriri knocked an arrow and prepared to fire, waiting for the right moment to strike. Susuna had completed her spellcast and would lob an orb of flame Thiji’s way. The Mythrite Sultan maintained his composure, and as the spell would be within mere yalms, he would step to the right and shift his left foot back, keeping his pose as the fireball fizzled to his left.
Susuna smirked - “an easy dodge,” she thought - and then instantly launched a gust of wind onto the still-petering flames, resulting in a burst of heated air to erupt. Thiji shielded his face with his left hand to keep away the ashes, but he would not have much time to recover as he would hear the whistling of an arrow headed straight for him. Ever prepared, his right hand lashed out laterally to deflect the incoming projectile, reducing it to splinters.
It was at this moment that time may as well have frozen as Thiji plunged into the depths of his mind. The Sash of the Blind Maiden - revealed to belong to Mamai - was a memento and a sort of anchor to his memories of her. He recalled the time they met, fell in love, and the short time they spent together; he recalled their expedition into Snowcloak, where they faced the Lady of Frost in her stronghold - the Akh Afah Amphitheatre - where Mamai met her end... The loss was great to him, for it would mark the first of many in his journey through Eorzea. But in his memories, he gained strength. And in that strength, he learned more about himself. About what he was... and of what he was becoming.
The memories of Mamai fading from his mind, he heard a shout from across the river as he came back to the present...
“Go fer it, Miss Suna!”
It was Meriri, giving Susuna the order to charge. She would do so, of course, wasting no time to form an aetheric tether that closed the distance between herself and Thiji, lunging across the waters with great speed, her rapier poised to strike. The Mythrite Sultan waited until she was within ilms, and swiped his right hand upward in a diagonal motion, parrying Susuna’s blow with a loud clang and breaking her balance. The Treasurer would adjust her strategy by wheeling around in a circular motion with her rapier, striking low, and then high in a “Reverse Moulinet” fashion.
Thiji easily avoided the initial attack with a short hop, and ducked in response to the secondary high sweep. Finally seeing an opening for an offensive, he rose from his lowered position into a seamless Snap Punch that found its mark on Susuna’s left shoulder, causing her to drop her focus. As she reeled back from the blow, the Mythrite Sultan focused his chakra into his left arm, forming a barrier around his shoulder which took on the aspect of ice. Unleashing all of his gathered might, he swiftly landed a gap-closer of his own: a full-body Ice Tackle with concussive force significant enough to shatter a glacier. The attack sent the Treasurer skipping along the waters - once, twice, then thrice - with each bounce leaving frozen sheets of ice at the points of impact. Susuna found herself back on dry land, Koyuki returning to deliver her dropped focus.
“Well, that’ll do for me, I think...” Susuna grunted, clutching her shoulder.
“A valiant effort, Cousin,” Luluma stated. She then turned to face Thiji and readied her weapon of choice: a mythrite pugil stick. “I shall challenge our lord next. Miss Meriri, stand down for now, please.” Meriri complied and stowed away her bow.
“Good call...” Susuna spoke back. “Give ‘im Lesson Number One.”
The lancer Angel smiled and nodded to the Treasurer, twirling and flourishing her weapon before taking to her stance. Her Circlet of Diligence was displayed proudly around her forehead Thiji knew what was coming, for a Lancer’s mind is ever focused on the attack. He knew well the tenets of a Lancer: courage - steeled by focus, and tempered by resolve - which made for an unflappable master of the polearm. Nevertheless, he was all the more prepared to face whatever his next opponent had in store for him. Taking note of his ice-aspected Shoulder Tackle, he gave his left arm a light shake as the vestiges of frost dissipated into the air. Mimizo watched on with earnest, paying close attention to her son.
Luluma leapt into the water, landing on the frozen patches left behind as a byproduct of Thiji’s previous attack, jumping from pad to pad until springing several yalms into the air, the ice shattering from the impact of her footfalls. The Mythrite Sultan, ever an advocate for developing a solid defense, assumed the Fists of Earth stance and awaited the Quartermaster's onslaught. Utilizing her knowledge gained serving in the Othard Branch, Luluma performed a graceful series of movements, surrounding herself in a tiny storm of flower petals as she soared over her foe, and landed on the trunk of the tree in the shrine’s center. An instant later, she kicked herself off and struck at Thiji, who had braced himself with the Nyepels raised. A loud clang resounded from the impact, sending the Mythrite Sultan sliding across the ground, jumping from the top of the steps so as to maintain his center of balance before landing in the rivulet, remaining steadfast.
The petals twirled about Thiji in a manner akin to a person accosted by a swarm of wespes. With a sharp exhale and a flexing of his arms, he would disperse them, the petals falling into the rivers and towards the Mason’s Falls, ending the flowery scene. Though he would have little time to rest, for Luluma was soon upon him with a flurry of slashes (or the motion thereof as she is wielding a pugil stick - a blunt instrument). Thiji guarded against her blows, sidestepped her lunges, and dodged her rising and falling strikes, leading in a patient dance in order to find the proper window to retaliate. He maneuvered himself in such a way so as to place him back on the high ground, and feigned a retreat through careful backsteps toward the shrine.
Back on terra firma, Thiji made some distance between himself as Luluma, ice-aspected aether once again forming along his appendages. Sensing another one of his Shoulder Tackles, Luluma widened the gap and made her way to the opposing end of the river where her fellow Angels resided, letting out a triumphant shout as she used her own aether to enhance her weapon, wreathing it in a reddish hue.
“Miss Himmeya, if you please!” she cried. The Fist of Rhalgr Disciple fell in some yalms behind Luluma and assumed the Fists of Wind stance before bringing her arms forward, palms outstretched. Thiji, meanwhile, stowed his Nyepels and made a “peak” with his hands, then crossing an arm over the other in a diagonal motion. He would do this thrice before his arms fell at his side in the “ready” stance, focusing the ambient aether around him. This did not escape Himmeya’s notice: this was the Fists of Ice stance - a technique she developed, though had not perfected. Nevertheless, she held her pose and dug her feet into the ground as Luluma performed a reverse somersault, landing firmly upon Himmeya’s hands. Come what may, the Mythrite Sultan was ready.
With a burst of wind released from Himmeya, she would propel Luluma forward at blinding speeds, as the latter twirled her pugil stick with such speed that it resembled a crimson ring of blood streaking towards Thiji, parting the waters as she did. The other Angels watched in awe at Luluma’s fantastic display of skill, but what would follow may as well have left them speechless. With but his left hand, Thiji would catch Luluma just as her strike would seem to hit, sliding only a few ilms backwards from the momentum of her attack. When he had finally coasted to a stop, the onlookers would behold the scene of Luluma, caught in the clutches of her lord, with his right hand a hair’s breadth from touching her.
“...Mal,” Luluma uttered in the Thavnairian tongue. The tip of his fingers brimmed with the ice-aspected aether he had gathered, and with one seamless motion, Thiji would ball his fist and deliver a One-Ilm Punch to the Angel’s solar plexus. The kinetic force of the punch was of such magnitude that a cold snap would violently shoot out from behind Luluma as she flew backwards, causing the waters to rise and ultimately freeze into an ice wall a near-instant later, just in time for it to break her fall - albeit painfully. After Luluma would slam against the wall, cracks would form and spread until it would finally shatter, causing the Angel to fall forward into the drink.
"I've taught our Sultan well... He is definitely... not the lordling I knew from the Sagolii anymore," Luluma spoke through pained groans. With a soft smile, she would succumb to her wounds (though less "wounded" and more "had the wind knocked out of her") and shut her eyes. Thiji had caught the Circlet which was removed from it home upon Luluma’s head. He would toss it high into the air before Nyra - whom was perched atop the branches of the shrine’s center tree - swooped in and clutched it in her talons before safely delivering it to Shishira. Two Angels down, but the fight was far from reaching a conclusion.
Reentering the fray, Meriri strode forward and loosed an arrow at Thiji whilst he recovered, finding its home on his left shoulder. The other Angels gasped at the sight, with Thiji opening his eyes to address the damage. He then lfited his gaze to Meriri, who gave a haughty wiggle of her eyebrow, with a grin to match bespoken to a “Gotcha!” expression; her Crown of Pride gleamed beneath the morning sun - a testament to her title of Apsara.
A brief moment to nod in acknowledgement and Thiji would pull out the arrow with little hesitation before snapping it in two. His effects would then change from his monastic attire to pure white Mhachi robes and a muffed met of Ala Mhigan design; Darklight Gloves and boots with blissful jewelry completed the ensemble. Pulling out an ice blue codex and revealing its pages, it would activate as the Caduceus symbol resonated from the front and back covers, and another light hum similar to the Nyepels Lux was heard, and a triangle of beautiful wings of yellowish-green rotated counter-clockwise inside a runic circle.
“Scholar...?” murmured Isja. “Curious...”
As the battle unfolded, there was commotion going on below. Sosona looked over the deck of the Vigil to ascertain its source: some of the locals took notice of the sounds of fighting, and were beginning to make their way through the Rustrock region to spectate. A small crowd would soon begin to form around the outskirts of the shrine, a considerably safe distance from harm’s way, headed by Lilina Lina - even some of the Resistance soldiers were in attendance, taking note of the presence of their former colleague, Himmeya.
"Ahh, Miss Lilina has succeeded in rousing the people," spoke the Valide Sultan. "Excellent; an audience always makes for memorable occasions."
Meriri’s opening gambit was a spinning jump, loosing three aetherial arrows at the Mythrite Sultan. With a simple spell, Thiji would slap shut the Anabasis Lux - another Anima Weapon - as the wound from Meriri’s arrow was knit shut, and he would be shielded by a barrier which would easily deflect Meriri’s attack, reducing the arrows to aetherial splinters. Thiji answered in kind by swiftly yet deftly writing in his tome as the ambient aether gathered and chilled around him before being absorbed into his body, some motes being transferred into the quill with which he was writing. Once complete, he tossed the quill in the air as it vanished before slapping the page as per the Arcanist manner and fired two bluish-grey bolts at Meriri.
Knowing that direct confrontation would avail her little, she made the choice to avoid the spell by performing a short hop to the right, then to the left. Each bolt exploded some fulms from her face, her curly red hair becoming dotted with flakes of purest white. The archer quickly surmised that it was snow, and further deducted that he was augmenting his Ruin spell with elemental energy.
Meanwhile, Thiji had begun scribing for a larger spell, his tome forming concentric rings of arcane lettering around him as he made some queer drawings in the air.
"Oh, no, ye don't!" Meriri exclaimed with a cheeky snort as she prepared to loose another arrow, her Crown resonating with her arrogant aura, summoning forth a violet salvo of phantasmal arrows in likeness to Refulgent Arrow. She had sought to stop his spellcast before he could finish, and even his barrier could not withstand the full might of her attack after having endured the initial strike.
“Ya left yerself wide open, m’lord! Taste the Apsara o’ Pride’s Vainglory Voll --”
Before she was able to finish her impassioned declaration, Meriri found herself temporarily impaired by a flash of golden light that caused her to yell in a startled manner, breaking her focus and loosing her arrow - and her attack thereof - into the air, resulting in a fireworks show of purplish delight. Meriri thus broke out in a small tantrum, thrashing about with her bow, hitting nothing but the air around her. Once her vision had returned to her, the first scene she beheld was a gold-and-violet faerie hovering just above eye level, dangling her Crown of Pride in a playful manner.
“Oi! Give that back, ya tricksome spirit!” she exclaimed in annoyance, grabbing at the ornament, only for the faerie to lift herself just above her reach before returning to her original position. The show begot a decent laugh from the onlookers - and her fellow Angels, besides. The diversionary tactic born from the initial exchange provided Thiji with the means to conceal the quickening of his faerie Lunabelle, who had hid herself away until the proper moment when Meriri would take the bait.
With more than enough time bought at this juncture, Thiji’s incantation was complete, and the Anabasis would begin to levitate from his palm. With a light push, the tome affixed itself into a rectangular “slot” that the Mythrite Sultan drew, the aether stored within being disseminated before two large circles began to spin.
Seeing that she had done all that was necessary, Lunabelle finally released Meriri’s Crown and vanished into the aether, the Plainsfolk grumbling to herself as she placed it back upon her head. She then turned back towards Thiji’s direction, only to be welcomed by a volley of his own design. An endless fusillade of quicksilver bolts of heated aether converged on Meriri’s position, and all she could do was avoid and evade, firing as many arrows as she could to find some semblance of an opening. A half-tick was all it took before she would finally be overwhelmed, and she could do naught but shield herself from the inevitable. Meriri let out a shriek as she was pelted into the waters by Thiji’s “Broil Barrage,” giving their impromptu audience a means to applaud by the spectacle - though the entertainment was far from over.
When the dust had settled, Meriri was lying face-down, the Crown of Pride once again deprived of its home as it was carried by the currents towards the falls. Sarielle had managed to grab a hold of it before it would even be close to reaching the plunge, and Swoztu picked up and turned Meriri around, her incapacitated state made apparent by crosses superimposed upon her eyes as though she were a knocked-out Namazu.
Another Angel down; another round of applause from the Gyr Abanian locals. A smile crept along Mimizo’s features, becoming more and more pleased by her treasured son’s performance. As Swoztu hummed a soft tune to restore Meriri back to consciousness, she slowly retreated from the scene to make way for Thiji’s next opponent: Himmeya Twelvefist, the Regalia Enforcer.
“Hm? You’re up, Miss Himmeya? Were not Miss Lelena and Miss Shishira going to challenge Lord Thiji next?” Isja asked. Himmeya smirked and shot a glare at the two Angels she mentioned - they were among the crowd who were cheering on the Ala Mhigan native.
“See, I was going to let them,” Himmeya began, “but this here’s our turf, and we’re fighting on a shrine dedicated to the fallen. These people - my people - would be arsed to not see a daughter of Ala Mhigo and a war hero do battle!”
Punching her fists together, Himmeya readied herself for combat as the force of the impact pulled back the levers of her weapons, activating the knuckle-like extensions and releasing a steady stream of watery and earthen energy that danced around her hands and forearms in harmony.
“Master Himmeya is about to fight! Watch closely, brothers and sisters! You’ll see a true disciple in action this day!” spoke a stout Highlander garbed in Tantra attire - no doubt a fellow Fist of Rhalgr who brought his own apprentices in hopes of encountering such. Though the thought of being called “Master” made Himmeya arch her brow inquisitively. From the implications of being a master, she never really entertained the idea of training students - at least not while the Garleans were still in control of the region. But perhaps after today, the monastic order may receive a much-needed glow-up.
Thiji, now aware of the battle order’s shift, nodded in acknowledgement before stowing away his Anabasis Lux. He would then stretch his arm outward as his attire underwent another change. His robes would soon vanish as a much simpler ensemble took its place: an ice blue suikan, with sarouel and babouches - attire he had once wore during his days as a cosplayer. In his right hand, a spear would begin to take form. This weapon’s shaft had a maroon finish, and the butt-spike and spearhead were ornately decorated in ice blue and gold, with intricate designs that would make any faithful of Halone jump with joy. This weapon was none other than the Spear of the Fury.
“Ooh-hoo! Now this is going to be a fight!” Umimi said in excitement. “I’ve not seen my brother-in-law as a Dragoon in what has felt like ages!”
“A shame,” Yuanji followed with a sigh. “I had hoped for a Mhachi spectacle between our Lord Sultan, Miss Lelena, and Miss Shishira...”
Thiji had taken his place atop the small hill a short ways west from Hidden Tear. Himmeya turned her head towards him and widened her eyes at the sight. A foe such as the Mythrite Sultan - who has mastered various forms of combat and then some - would prove to be far less predictable compared to the pikemen of the Corpse Brigade, the halbardiers of the Temple Knights, and the Xaelic lancers of the Azim Steppe of which she has experienced.
“...But even I will find myself hard-pressed to hold back our lord,” Himmeya commented before turning back to Isja. “Mind backing me up?”
The pale Viera could only grin and saunter forth in reply. Stepping into the river, Isja stood about an arm’s length from Himmeya as she twirled her cane ane stare down the Mythrite Sultan.
“I had hoped you would ask that.”
Two opponents now stood before Thiji: his finest Enforcer, and his prime model; a Monk and a Blue Mage, respectively. The mere excitement of facing such a duo was palpable. But he would need to quell such anxiety in order to succeed in this gauntlet.
Gazing back down upon his spear, his mind was waylaid by another set of memories - these of which he holds most dear: it was some summers ago, prior to the introduction of the Viera and Hrothgar into Eorzea, in Costa del Sol, where had made an appearance at a luau dedicated to the entire Lalafell race. Many of his compatriots and business partners were present for the festivities, all of whom were happy to see the reclusive noble attending a social gathering (in his robes amidst a summer day, no less). Out among the dross, however, stood a beloved friend:
The onyx-haired, violet-robed Dunesfolk maiden with limpid emerald and sapphire orbs, whose very presence commanded respect by her peers; an esteemed wizardess of the highest caliber, whose mastery and majesty over Mhachi magic was without peer and reproach that smallfolk and noble alike would whisper her as being the direct descendant of the great Shatotto, and the Dark City’s brightest star.
Those who mocked her name for knowing the Far Eastern dialect would be met with unceremonious and indiscriminate conflagration. This was none other than Lady Chichibi Chibi - Merchant Queen of the Sagolii Deep, Grand Magus of the Order of Mhach, and Jewel of the Dunes - who carved her own piece of Eorzea in the desert and rose an empire from the sands...
... The most perfect match for the Mythrite Sultan... were the threads of the Spinner woven in favor of such an outcome.
During the waning hours of the festival, the two merchant-lords regaled each other over their adventures, exploits, and premonitions of coming days. Though they were rivals once, they eventually came to respect one another as they grew up in the Sagolii Desert. Though Thiji’s magical aptitude was second only to the Mhachi beauty, he was praised by Chichibi in kind for his exceptional martial skill. Together, the two of them would have been unstoppable; they could rule the realm, even.
But they were aware of one another’s intent: Thiji had relinquished the mantle of adventurer and dedicated his time and energy into running the Regalia, and Chichibi did the same to maintain her hold upon her own empire deep within the desert, leaving her apprentices and hired hands to be her eyes and ears.
They knew that this would perhaps be their final farewell - at least for a long while.
The seeds of love that doubtless blossomed within them were brought to realization when their gazes met at the luau. Ever the professionals, they did not wish to be too motivated by their emotions. Thiji could have easily turned to her and confess his feelings for the Merchant Queen, and he would have likely received an amiable response. Thiji’s icy countenance was the only one to soothe the ever-raging flames of her soul, and only Chichibi’s fiery will was potent enough to calm the harsh blizzard which surrounded his heart. But in his heart of hearts, he had to let go of those feelings - of her. Even if someone else were to one day take Queen Chichibi’s place, the Mythrite Sultan knew that she would not relinquish her right to rule so easily, for she was meant to shine eternally as Thanalan’s star - even if she must do so alone.
And so, with what felt like a two-tonze weight upon his heart, he would take his leave of her. But before he would out of earshot, something spurred Chichibi into action - as if her heart took control of her for only a moment. The next three words she uttered were ones Thiji would forever engrave into his mind; three words that only someone who knows and cares so deeply for the Mythrite Sultan that it would give even his heart pause...
“... Walk with Halone.”
And walk with Her he would. And as he recalled this memory, something within Thiji awakened, as if finally discovering a long-lost fragment of himself. Chichibi knew of his impeccable mastery over ice-aspected aether; that he was blessed by the Mothercrystal; that his destiny lie beyond the mere ken of an adventurer. She wanted him to see that, and the words she spake that fateful eve was the greatest parting gift for which he could have ever asked. Though Queen Chichibi may have experienced sadness for that brief moment, she knew that Thiji would become the man she respected - and loved. Her lineage - though shrouded in myth and mystery - was always born under the aphorism of “might makes right”, and knowing Thiji for as long as she did, there was no reason to question that he would do the same - albeit in his own special way.
Coming back to the here and now, Thiji snapped his eyes open, and after a bright flash of blue, began radiating an aura of frost, his spear now coated with aetherial rime. His expressions also became calm - calmer than the usual demeanor for which he is known. The crowd and the Angels gasped at the sight, whilst Mimizo grinned widely.
“At long last,” the Valide Sultan stated, “my treasured son has embraced his true self.”
Isja remained undaunted by her master’s heavy - yet sudden - shift in elemental aspect, and made the first move. Winding the aetherial currents around her, she would conjure a pair of spinning projectiles that she would then fire upon the Mythrite Sultan, only for them to be deflected with little effort by his weapon.
Himmeya, anticipating retaliation, went into the Fists of Earth stance and assumed her best defensive form. Though she and Isja would have little time to compose themselves as the Dunesfolk noble charged at them with the speed and ferocity that only a dragon could match.
With his augmented aether at a heightened level, Thiji rose his Spear of the Fury and hopped a few ilms into the air before thrusting it forward, releasing a serpentine blast of energy. The ice-aspected aether caused the blast to look more akin to that of a beam of frost that cut a linear swath down the waters. Isja and Himmeya barely avoided the assault, now cut off from each other as the resulting attack left a coiled wall of ice betwixt them. Himmeya, seeking to keep Isja close, recovered from her dodge and focused the Fists of the Fiend’s energy, punching and shattering the wall in one swift motion. Isja repaid her efforts by conjuring the power of the north to refrigerate her saliva, releasing a chilling gust that sent the flying shards of ice outward to the advancing Thiji.
The Mythrite Sultan, however, sprang into the air, easily avoiding the spell.
“Ware his Jump, Master Himmeya!” cried the Fists of Rhalgr disciples, warning her of the impending attack. She would heed them, and would roll out of the way. Isja quickly formed an aetherial current to the shrine’s southeast pillar, teleporting herself out of harm’s way while also obtaining the high ground - just in time before Thiji struck the waters with his frozen might, once again turning the surrounding waters to ice.
Being on the defensive would avail little. Himmeya needed to pressure him if she were to have a chance at success. Taking to the Fists of Ice stance her lord performed earlier as a Monk, she hopped into the frozen rivulet and skated across to meet Thiji in battle. He could only oblige him as they clashed in a display of martial skill and glacial mastery; with every blow landed, snow and frost danced around them. Himmeya’s people cheered her on as their duel unfolded, while Isja began tapping into her feral side, crouching low with eyes aglow.
Though Himmeya’s strength proved formidable for a time, she endured a few strikes here and there, though this was on purpose as Thiji was not intending to cause any lasting harm, hitting her in protected areas.
“Himmeya - move!” Isja roared as she covered herself in a thin layer of aetheric scales. Thiji would deliver a Wheeling Thrust that would send gusts of ice in Himmeya’s direction as he heard Isja’s cry. But before she could comply, Himmeya guarded herself from Thiji’s strike, sliding across the ice, but maintained her balance as her feet met solid ground at the riverbank. Isja then sprung as high as her body could allow her (with some aetherial aid, of course). At the apex of her leap, with arms and legs outspread, she would descend upon the Mythrite Sultan with murder in her eyes.
The onlookers watched Isja drop like a rock, and all that followed was a massive thud that would shatter the ice and shake the earth, resuming the water’s natural flow. Thanks to her shielding herself earlier, Isja felt little pain from the resulting slam that would doubtless have broken something otherwise. As for Thiji?
He had managed to somersault from his original position prior to the engagement just in the nick of time. And though it would have been the prime moment to take the offensive once more, he would hear a voice from behind him:
“That is enough. We are satisfied.”
It was Mimizo, escorted by the Head Secretaries, who had come forth to address everyone. The Angels fell behind them and gathered at the hill, surrounding Thiji. She stood by her son’s side and placed a hand upon his shoulder, giving him a proud smile. “Thank you, dearest Angels. And thank you all, fair people of Gyr Abania, for witnessing this spectacle. Though this shrine was abolished by the Garlean Empire, we of the Regalia sought to welcome its return: through a gauntlet - a battle in remembrance to the brave sons and daughters of Ala Mhigo who have made the ultimate sacrifice. Hidden Tear shall shine once more as a site for honoring the fallen.”
The Gyr Abanians gave an uproarious applause from the Valide Sultan’s speech. Before too long, they would disperse and make their way back down to Ala Gannha. The Angels shortly followed suit and tended to their injuries and prepared to set back off to the Aldenard Branch. Thiji remained by the shrine, gathering his thoughts, while Mimizo approached him with a grin only a mother could give.
“’Tis nice to finally see your true soul shine, my son,” she said to him. “How do you feel?”
She would only receive a cold silence as her answer. But she expected this, and maintained her beaming expression. She decided to press the matter further.
“This gauntlet was of my own design, as you know. This shrine was a fitting setting when I heard of its former practices, for your powers of the Echo have finally been realized. Do you know of the Sixth Heaven of Ice, my Thiji?”
“Yes,” he replied, “‘tis a majestic and lofty palace carved by the Fury’s own spear.”
“Made from?”
“... Frozen moonbeams.”
“Correct. And don’t think I did not detect that apprehension in your voice. Yes, I know the Lover has spurned you many times, but she holds sway over the realm of ice, as does Halone, whom you and your brother worship. And you, my son, have ever walked the path of the warrior - the myrmidon - the knight. Though others may value love, others prefer war and strategy, and it would be through combat that you could discover the hidden power within you: ice-aspected aetherial manipulation, or as some would prefer: Cryokinesis.”
“I always understood that the Echo’s powers varied from person to person, in both utility and efficacy, but I did not think such a thing possible... until... the Eistanz. Though I had only ever used the Mothercrystal’s blessing to resist the will of primals and eikons. But there is still the matter concerning Lady Alicen, and her attunement to the Lover...”
“She is the other side of the coin, my son. She was blessed by Menphina, and has become an avatar of sorts - just as you have of Halone. Her path is one of compassion, and yours is of solitude. Though you are both aligned to the element of ice, your strength comes from your heart and soul, which has grown ever icier over the years. But you still show love and respect to those for whom you care. And this, my beloved son, is what I had meant to show you all this time. Thavnair - nay, the realm at large - needs defenders. Stalwart and fearsome ones, at that. Embrace winter - embrace the Fury as you have before. Perhaps you may even become a Warrior of *Ice*!”
The Mythrite Sultan gave a curt nod and before his mother embraced him. With his free arm he would return her affection. Though it was fleeting, he felt the warmth that only a mother’s love could bring in his heart. Mimizo then walked with Thiji back to their airship to commence their flight back towards the Goblet. In his mind, Thiji would piece together the puzzle that was his life thus far: why he was always so unfortunate in finding his Sultana, and why he had always loved the cold. From his triumphs, defeats, accomplishments, and shortcomings (pun not intended), it was all a test to prepare him for what’s to come.
He ever walked the path of a man scorned by love - destined, it seemed, to be alone. But in his loneliness, his solitude, he found his strength. He found his motivation and drive to press onward. Thiji, the sultan with a heart of ice that would make Ysayle seem like a melting snowball by comparison, used his resources to uplift and enlighten others, lest they share the same lonely fate as he. Many sacrifices were made - even his own dream had to be cast aside... but he made peace with this loss, for without delving into his sorrow, he would not have created his own martial dance style - and a powerful one, no less. At the cost of turning his empire into the prosperous gem that it is today, his heart would be like a blizzard. And after numerous trials, he would become one of the most dangerous creations in any society:
A man - or Sultan with nothing to lose.
