Nothingness
She dreamed. Of course she dreamed. It’s not like she was dead, right? She hoped she wasn’t - that she wouldn’t.
It’d all been so sudden, the events that led up to the Au Ra having been left lying near death in the Shroud. Her Ishgardian lover fared better, but wouldn’t wake. Hali lay on a crude stretcher of tribal miqo’te design, carried back to the Naras encampment, to her family, for care. She’d been left with several horrible puncture wounds from the last manifestation of the voidsent possessing Dahlia, Mirseleiris. Dahlia, meanwhile, was transported back to the Outriders’ house by Dail’a and Fiona, accompanied by the others - Naomi, Otto, T’rahven, Shadow, F’manafa, and Keerith. Both lay unconscious... and would for some time.
It’d started as a visit to the Naras tribe, to introduce Dahlia to her family, estranged as they had all been for the last decade. Hali had planned to propose to her that night, after it was all said and done. That wasn’t quite the result, as it seemed to happen so often for the two.
Encountering a pair of forest witches who had a distinctive interest in Dahlia’s condition, and even confessing to having been connected with it in the first place, they began to assault the couple in an attempt to bring Mirseleiris out, breaking the ward stone that held the creature in check and kept Dahlia safe. Though Hali fought them with all of her strength, she was outnumbered, especially when Mirseleiris took over. With a call for aid, not only did Fiona arrive, but so, too, did the Outriders.
The witches fled, attempting to take Auguste’s staff - once belonging to the old Amdapori white mage with whose rituals Hali had managed to interfere, binding the staff to her own anima and winding up with the soul of the man bound to her - though they were unsuccessful in getting too far before Hali’s aether was torn from her.
When she’d recovered the staff, she had just enough strength left between having had a chunk bitten from her neck, been impaled by shadowy limbs, and beaten down already, that, with the Outriders restraining Mirseleiris, she sealed it within Dahlia once more... but not before a beacon-like spell was cast and one last taunt cackled. Then, Hali fell. She remembered nothing else but blackness and the dreams within them that faded when she woke, weak, tired, and feeling so horribly drained...
She learned quickly that she’d been out for moons. Her family doted over her, keeping her alive as best they could through magic and medicine, until she had finally healed, her body a mess of horrid scars and withered, unused limbs. She looked like a zombie, but the moment she put her linkpearl ring back on her horn, she was stricken with fear.
Dahlia had left the Outriders’ house in pursuit of her twin sister, Vivian. When the Cult of the Hierophant couldn’t breach the defences of the house in which Dahlia, like Hali, had laid unwaking, they instead took Vivian as bait the moment Dahlia woke, drawing the weakened witch out of hiding. When they struck, they struck fast, and she was taken away to their ritual site on the edge of Dravania.
By the time Hali arrived, it had been far too late...
Silent footfalls brought the shinobi closer and closer through the darkened wintry woods toward the site from which the call for help originated. It was a trap. She knew in her head that it was. It couldn’t be anything else, but there was no other way. No time to rally the Outriders, no time to explain to anyone. As it was... she knew she was too late already. She knew what she’d find.
No, the Raen thought as she ran, her Huton carrying her silently as her footfalls would have otherwise crunched down in fulm-thick snow, No, I won’t let anything stop me or slow me down. If there’s even a chance, I can’t convince myself I’m too late. I can’t be. I can’t be.
The thoughts were colder comfort than the biting wind against her face, masked though it was. Jet black robes fluttered behind her, gloves tightening around the staff that was so bound to her. Her glasses threatened to fog beneath her mask but kept from doing so entirely, likely helped by the soft white glow to her eyes that had come from practising white magic - holy arts - without a proper soul crystal. She knew it was affecting her, but she didn’t know how, nor did she care anymore. This was do or die - the final curtain.
When they approached the ritual site, it was obvious: the trap had been laid out, and the cult was ready. Hali - and Auguste through her - could feel the horrible void energy in the very air. The world heaved and threatened to pull her under, but she continued, even as her very being fought against her.
They had prepared for that. They knew she’s press on, and they took advantage of that. The moment she drew near, even cloaked as she was, she was beset by cultists. Ten... twenty... thirty. She snarled. Everything was becoming a blur, and she couldn’t even remember getting to that point.
Just hold on... August prompted, You’ve faced worse odds than this, have you not? Come, now, show me how you handle things like this.
“...shut up, old man,” the Raen sneered, twirling the staff into one hand and letting loose a burst of holy aether that cleared the air at least enough for her to fight. With another flick of her wrist, a blade of white light, like that of a scythe, extended from the head, and she snarled at the cultists surrounding her.
In moments, they were upon her, and cut down like so much fodder. It was nothing new to her. Killing thrilled her, normally. This time, however, there was nothing but anger and desperation.
“Let... me... through!” she roared, cutting down two more as they threatened to pile atop her, kept at bay by the gales of harsh winds she repeatedly summoned with her enhanced conjury, thanks to Auguste. She was met with inhuman silence. Not a snicker, not a whimper.
Another wave of them came, and then another, and then another. She’d begun to grow tired... and then, slowly, overwhelmed. Blows began to land, dagger strikes that lanced pain through her body - poison, she realised, and likely paralysis poison so she could watch her defeat at the prideful voidsent’s hands - and soon, she faltered and fell, lacking the strength to go on. Her body wouldn’t respond. She couldn’t even speak.
The next moments were spent begin carried bodily to the site, out of her sanctified area, and back into the miasma of void magic. She could do nothing for the nausea and her eyes rolled back. She couldn’t even heave. When she was strapped down to a ritual table, she finally saw her: Dahlia... or what was Dahlia.
“I am so very glad you could join us, little shinobi,” the form spoke, chuckling darkly. Dahlia’s voice was wholly eclipsed by that which Mirseleiris used, her body warped in ways that made her hard to recognise, fur, horns and even a tail sprouted from her twisted form. The creature had taken her over completely. She was gone... and still, Hali couldn’t speak. The figure rolled red eyes and scoffed.
“Give her the antidote,” Mirseleris said, “I want to her when this is finished. I look forward to her screams.” Within a few moments, something was shoved into Hali’s mouth, and she was forced to drink, helpless. Slowly, bit by bit, she regained her motor functions, and began to struggle.
“Now, now,” the voidsent crooned, “Enough of that. I’d hate to kill you before I can use you. We need your aether, after all, now, don’t we.”
“...wh- what?” came the struggle of a reply.
A chuckle was all she got in response, dark and sinister, followed by a sharp pain down her arm as a dagger was brought down, slicing a gash into her. She grit her teeth, groaning in pain as blood began to run down her arm, causing her nausea to redouble. She was being bled for a ritual...
“Now, let’s finish this little game, shall we?” the voidsent crooned, stepping away from Hali and out into the clearing, “’Tis time I claimed my real prize.” With that, Hali felt a horrible sensation as a hand lifted toward her, enacting a spell to begin draining her of her aether... along with many of the cultists. A horrible dark visage began rising as those not being drained knelt and chanted feverishly - prayers, she realised - all the while Dahlia’s body began losing strength, but began to show signs of her consciousness returning as the form rose above her, still connected, but becoming its own, bit by bit. Her expression was desperate. Fear chief among all took its place as tears began to roll down her twisted, unfamiliar face.
With mere moments, it began to take shape - like Dahlia before but with monstrous, great arms covered in feathers, taloned fingers, a much more vicious-looking snake-tail that wove around, peering out from behind the main body, grotesque horns, and a wholly unfamiliar face with red eyes that bore no iris or pupil, as if lifeless.
In that moment, the area fell into utter darkness, the only things visible were faint, red outlines. However, Hali could feel what was happening as the will of the newly-formed primal before her attempted to crush her soul, stealing her will. However, something within her - a light - beat it back, bathing the area in radiance as she heard a voice in her head, Hali! Hali! Now is your chance!
At first, she thought it might have been some powerful entity, sparing her from the tempering... as, she felt, Dahlia had been. On second glance, however, it was clear that Dahlia was still attached to the creature feeding off of her aether... even as it stopped doing so on Hali’s. Had enough, has it...? Auguste asked, Your aether is no longer being drained. It’s distracted! Now is your chance! You can break free of this, can’t you?
“C-course... I can,” the Au Ra wheezed, and with a careful motion, slipped free of one of the straps binding her. Making two quick mudra, she executed a ninjutsu to form a blade of ice in her hand, cutting herself free before she bolted for her blades and staff.
As the darkness faded, she was met with a chortle, echoing and distorted, as if from some horrible, demonic being, “She lives... but she does not bow. The Echo... So be it.”
“My lord! O boundless one!” called a familiar voice. From nearby, two cultists, having been tempered, released Vivian from the bindings with which she’d been held, the red-head grinning with an unnatural zeal, her eyes glinting red as she called out, “If she cannot be made to see your radiance, can we not convince her? Surely she must see, now, even without your blessing!”
“V- no... n-no, no...” Hali could only stammer, wide-eyed. She knew what this meant: Vivian had been tempered. The dear sister of her beloved was beyond redemption. I can’t... I can’t... Not her. She doesn’t deserve it... She doesn’t...
Hali, Auguste’s voice spoke to her in her mind, despite his inability to read it, You know what has happened. This is no life for her.
“I can’t!” she nearly howled in despair, causing Mirseleiris to chortle and Vivian to grow closer, shushing her comfortingly.
“Hali. It’s okay. It’ll be okay. We can all be together, peacefully. Isn’t that what you want? If Menphina can give herself unto her better, why do you not join us? Dahlia has already become one with him. Everything is as it should-” “No, no, no, NO SHUT UP!” she roared, pulling back before instinctively drawing back with her staff, and, producing a spear-like blade at the end, thrust it into Vivian’s chest. The girl choked, hands pressing to the wound as the weapon was drawn back again. The red began to fade as the malevolent being released her from its grasp.
“Please... F-forgive... me...” Vivian gurgled as she struggled to stay upright, “I... I-I... l-love...” She choked again, then again, and fell forward gracelessly, face impacting the frozen ground hard.
Hali’s heart stopped and her body went cold in that moment, only brought back by the shrill shriek from off to her side of, “VIVIAN!”
There was no time to react. The next thing Hali heard was a scream of utmost fury as a multitude of levin bolts raced through the air toward her, catching her and sending her body limp. All the shinobi could do was scream as she was ravaged by Dahlia’s outburst, the trauma enough to grant her momentary control of her own body, twisted and subjugated as she was.
The scene was nightmarish, cultists either lying dead or chanting prayers to their god, Dahlia screaming in fury and despair, Hali screaming in agony, and Mirseleiris laughing all the while.
This is the end... I’m finished... she thought to herself, even with her screams of pain, I was wrong...
However, Dahlia’s strength had long since been spent and the last of her aether ran dry, causing her to fall back to the ground in a manner not unlike Vivian, leaving Hali to fall, as well, all the wrong nerves firing from the bombardment of electricity. Little by little, though, she gathered herself and began to stand.
“Y-you done?” Hali wheezed in pain, “’Cause... I think it’s... ngh, m-my... turn.”
There’s nothing else, though, Auguste protested, You can’t fight that thing like this. You realise that you’ve no choice now.
“I know...” the shinobi said, bringing the staff to bear as she began to beseech the land for aid, drawing not only on what it would give her, but herself and Auguste, as well. Holy radiance began to shine from her very being as she rose from the ground.
I don’t know what will happen, the old elezen muttered fearfully.
There was a pang of hurt in her heart. She knew this would likely be the end, but she had to try. There was no other option, now. She finally laughed, almost bitterly, but with resignation to her features as she closed her illuminated eyes and said with a smirk, “Shut up, Auguste.”
The elezen felt the tone more than heard it through Hali’s own horns, and even as a possessor - a spirit within her body, bound to her - her felt something stir. It hurt. He felt pity. Much as she had done, she had so much time ahead of her to atone. Should could have. She wanted to, and he knew. After a long pause, the old man’s voice spoke in her head one last time.
Very well. Godsspeed... Hali Naras.
"You're not finished?” the void-primal rumbled, “Ever a thorn in my side... but this time, I will be rid of you, girl..."
As he raised a massive, clawed hand, Hali rose further from the ground, waves of holy aether washing out from around her. When her eyes next opened, she spread her arms wide, unleashing a torrent of purifying white light toward Mirseleiris. As it connected, there was an unearthly shriek of pain from the creature. It went on, ever further, even as Hali could feel her body wanting to give up. She’d long since reached her breaking point, but there was no giving up, now. It was do or die.
As the shrieking died down, there was a heavy crash of something crystallised hitting the ground. However, with it came a realisation. She was no longer moving, no longer suspended in the air... and she was losing feeling in her body. She couldn’t even move her head to look as pure white crystal began to replace her limbs, climbing up from the ground beneath her as all but pure light embraced her, searing away all and leaving nothing but a crystalline statue behind.
As the look of victorious relief gave way to a dreaded realisation, the shinobi’s last thought was only, “But... I won...?”
With that last thought came the feeling of purity... and then nothingness.