Steia hummed to herself as she sat at her makeup table, carefully applying her eyeshadow. She was in her studio, having stayed at her fiance’s house for the night - as was now her habit - and headed for the studio early. It was, after all, where she worked. The night prior, Lady Dusk had returned, and Steia was able to have the conversation she was dreading: The one where she admitted her sins against Lady Dusk and her order as well as the one where Lady Dusk was informed that the creature she'd known as “Nighean” was to be wed to her son.
But Lady Dusk's response to the first had been dismissive, all but admitting she would have done the same thing. Her demeanor in response to the news of the pending handfasting was a bit more chilly, but still civil. As this was far better than they had expected, Steia was in a fairly good mood. The tune she hummed was nothing specific, but rather a mixture of merry-sounding melodies.
She looked down for a moment to switch to a different makeup brush, and when she looked back up, she found her reflection missing the eyeshadow she’d just applied. Her humming stopped abruptly, and she screwed up her face. Though it gave her pause, it didn’t fool her for a moment.
With a frown, heavy sigh, eyeroll, and folded arms she asked, “Why do you bother me this morn, Esoterica?” So much for her good mood.
“Merely was I want to ascertain your status.” Steia’s reflection looked around, then reached forward, her fingertip penetrating the surface of the mirror as it felt the frame. “Tis a rather small mirror, is it not? Truly not meant for travel.” She paused, and motioned to a cloth on the desk with a wave of her hand. “And so oft do you keep it covered.”
“I wished it to be clear I was not want for your casual visits,” Steia replied, annoyed.
“Then you should have endeavored to set up wards,” came Esoterica's voice, behind her, now. Steia turned quickly to look behind her, and beheld the elezen-like succubus looking about the studio. “Do mine eyes deceive me? Transport glyphs, an alchemy furnace, potions abound, and...” Esoterica paused and chuckled. “...Is that an engagement ring upon your finger? All within a pair of moons. Truly should one think you are taking to mortal life rather well, Melodia.”
Steia scoffed, and turned back to the mirror, finishing her makeup. “This is not a mortal life. Tis naught more than a bad simulacrum.” She paused. “And that is not my name.”
“Nor is the pseudonym you are want to use. Why not present the world our proper name?”
Steia grumbled. “Tis not your name.” She cleared her throat before continuing. “Is it not obvious? I am not whole, thus is my pseudonym symbolic...a partial name for a partial person.” She sighed. “You wished to ascertain my status. Do you not have it, now? Pray leave.”
Esoterica smirked. “You are not a partial person, you are more than a person. Though I have knocked you down, you are yet of me, and, thus are you better than all of these mortals.” She shrugged. “Though I do suppose you are correct. You seem well, and thus is my stated intent fulfilled.” Despite these words, the senior voidsent didn’t leave.
“Fair travels,” Steia replied, making a show of organizing her makeup. She tried to ignore the pair of amber eyes no doubt burrowing a hole in the back of her head. Alas, she eventually had to address the lingering presence, uttering a barely calm, “Yes?”
“Tis naught but a minor curiosity. Merely a few days past, as I watched over the daughters of Halanuu, I noted your presence nearby...only for you to quickly vanish from mine sight. Twas not simply a matter of having lost track...I could not find you anywhere on this star.”
Steia grunted. “I have devised a method to hide myself from you. Tis good that it works.”
Esoterica smirked. “No doubt you could demonstrate such for me?”
Steia paused. “Truly am I not want to give you a chance to learn how to circumv-”
Steia was cut off as a powerful blast of magic struck her from behind, throwing her and the makeup table into the nearby wall. Esoterica sneered at her. “I think that shall be enough of your lies for now. Already do I know Galda met with you. I know not what you spoke of, nor do I expect you tell me, even if I were to torture you.”
In an instant, Esoterica was kneeling next to Steia. She lifted the “mortal” woman up by the neck, carrying her across the apartment towards the alchemy furnace. Steia clutched at Esoterica’s hands, trying in vain to pry them off as Esoterica casually continued.
“No doubt you have realized I need you, yet you have not learned why. All the same, you know I will not destroy you, and so I fear I must remind you: while I need you, I do not need those you care about, and full happy am I to maim them in your place.”
Esoterica lifted the lid on one of the furnace’s basins. “Pray enjoy a taste of what your favored are to experience, should you cross me.” With that, Esoterica grabbed Steia’s right hand and plunged it into the boiling chemicals.
“Possible renewed contact with lost agent, stop. Meet in person on my behalf, stop. Meeting place is CA315115, stop. Agent may spook easily, stop. Avoid appearing threatening, stop.”
And that was it. She couldn’t remember what happened next. She found herself on cliffs overlooking the Ghimlyt, battle waging beneath her. She knew the scene well, now, though it was not the same most would have assumed. This was a dream. A dream she’d struggled to make sense of.
The "Eorzean" forces seemed composed of tribal Viera, Gridanians, and dragons. They were led by the entity that called herself “Eve”...or as Hakra and Medea knew her, “Steia”. The Imperial forces contained a mixture of the modern empire, Allagan forces, and even voidsent. They were led by the pale-faced lady who had been haunting her dreams for moons, now. They were also being pushed back, slowly.
Then something new was thrust into the dream. A gigantic, gleaming, curved blade - like a part of Dalamud - crashed down in the middle of the battlefield, bringing the battle to a standstill.
.....
The dream shifted, and she found herself standing in what she could only identify as the aetherial sea. She saw the pale-faced lady and Eve standing equal distances from herself and each other. In the middle of them, a scythe hung from outside the dream. Its blade resembled the gigantic one she’d seen earlier.
“Medea, pray grab it before she does!” Eve shouted as she ran to it. Pale didn’t hesitate, either. She ran for it as well. Medea hesitated, but elected to trust Eve, running for the blade as well. In fact, she made it first, but as she reached out to touch it, she was blasted back. A second later, Eve joined her.
Pale grasped the blade, her hand bleeding as she did, but she grinned madly at the pair as the scythe lifted, taking her with it. As she left with it, the “dome” of the false reality was cracked, and began to crumble.
.....
Things went dark for a moment, before a brilliant light blinded her. Eve projected a bubble of light, pushing back the darkness. “Medea, help me!” the woman commanded, struggling. Medea looked out into the black.
“If it collapses on us...will we die?” she asked.
“Yes! We cannot allow that to happen!”
“Why not?”
“Because she will gain our strength, and destroy everything we hold dear!”
Medea was quiet for a moment, and muttered, “So let her.”
“You cannot mean that!”
“I’ve seen the world through your eyes. Our enemy is eternal, and most people aren’t worth the effort. Maybe it would be better to let the end come, and spare those who are innocent further suffering.”
“What of your companions? Are you to say they wish to go to their ends without you?” Eve asked, growing desperate. Medea didn’t reply.
“Closer...there! Medea!” This voice came from neither of them. Medea looked up.
“...Domina?” she asked, softly. There was another flash, seemingly from deep in the darkness.
“Yes! You see! Your love calls to you! She sends her spells to heal you!”
Medea frowned. “...So what? You heard Haruka’s words. You know how she is conditioned. It’s not real.”
"... I need you awake to get you out of here..." The voice came again, pleading. Medea looked up.
“Is she alone?” Her gaze dropped to Eve, who was having an easier time keeping the darkness at bay with aid from beyond, but far from winning. “See? No one else cares.”
“She may have rushed and not brought anyone else!”
“Medea... please wake up. Please....“ Medea turned her back on the voice, and it faded into the distance.
“Oh no, no, no!” Eve shouted as she realized what was happening. She turned to Medea. “By the void! Is this the sorry creature I was willing to die for?! Have you no desire to live of your own volition? Must you need the validations of others? Scathach take me! You must be better than that!”
As Eve ranted, there was a suddenly flood of fuchsia-colored aether, dancing around them and through the darkness. Eve looked around for a moment, wonder gracing her. She looked to Medea, who seemed entranced by the aether, and muttered curses.
As new words reached them, she took advantage of the invading aether and used it to drive back the dark.
Not long after the so-called “Warrior of Light” triumphed in the First....
At the southwestern ends of Ilsabard, in the last village before the Ghimlyt, there was a rundown old bar. That bar boasted few patrons, but those few it had were regulars. So when a smartly dressed Viera walked in, sat at the bar, and ordered a hard apple cider, the other patrons took notice. She settled for rum when her requested drink wasn’t available, then opened a notebook and started looking over the contents.
When a patron - a hyur by the look of him - abandoned his seat to sit next to her, she quickly snapped it shut.
"Evenin', miss," he spoke with a mild slur. She didn't respond. "Oi, now. Don't tell me yer one of them strong, silent types. You look like you have a story ta tell."
A stoic face framed by white hair turned towards him. Her soft, brown eyes had teal markings beneath them that roughly resembled tear trails. Then her lips - painted with a darker shade of teal - betrayed her agitation with a sneer.
The man laughed. "Going to judge a man so harshly so quickly? C'mon, now. Give him a chance!" the man said, referring to himself. She glanced about the bar, noting curious eyes on them, then huffed and...at least stopped frowning at him, moving her gaze to her bottle of rum, and taking another swig.
"There's not much to tell," she replied, her accent indicating that she’d at least grown up in Ilsabard.
"Come now, luv! In this humble town, even the most mundane traveler's story is something new!" He laughed again. She shook her head. "Tell ya what. If I can guess some things about you, will you open up?"
"That'll depend on what you guess," she murmured.
"Excellent! Now...I'm thinkin' you're a soldier," he started, looking her over. "Ya got the bearing of one. Oh, and y’were born in Othard."
"Those are too easy," she responded, staring at the drinks lined up on the other side of the bar as she nursed her rum.
"Okay, okay. Yoooou...haven't been sleeping well." He gave a cheesy grin.
"I must have circles under my eyes," she murmured.
"Nah, luv. Yer beautiful." He rubbed his hands and grinned a little darkly. On the opposite side of her from him, a Roegadyn sat down. Though he seemed to ignore the pair as he ordered his drink - simple beer - his presence made her feel a little trapped. The man that was bothering her continued.
"You favor a bow," he suggested. When she gave him another bewildered look, she pointed at her fingers. "The way they're calloused."
Now she turned on her stool to face him properly, curious as to how far his powers of observation could take him. "Go on."
"I'm thinking you're on medical leave." He said. She tilted her head in response, and he explained, "Well, if I'm right about you having sleep problems, and ya really do use a bow, then it’s gotta be affecting your aim. Gotta rest to recover from whatever's wrong with ya."
"High marks," she said, studying him. He was pretty nondescript, wearing plain clothes expected from a remote village. He was a middle-aged man, probably not much older than herself, but just handsome enough that he'd be disarming to most. He gave her a toothy grin.
"Ah, but it's all a bit of mummery, isn't it, luv?" he said. "Ya sleep fine, and yer just malingering." A chill went down her spine as he continued. "But it can't just be that. You'd go someplace sunnier, eh? Not to this place. Not unless..."
She stood and turned to head for the door, only for that large Roegadyn to arm bar her, knocking her to the ground. The other patrons watched passively, having seen this sort of thing before. Once more, she gritted her teeth and muttered, "Frumentarii." The hyur grinned down at her.
"...Not unless you were trying to defect to Eorzea, but found the Ghimlyt harder to cross than you thought. Do you have any sense of how many defectors we've caught trying to pass through here? You were easy...we even got a heads-up."
"I wasn't defecting," she growled out. The Roegadyn reached down and gripped her jacket to pick her up. She didn't struggle, knowing full well that it was likely to cause more trouble for herself, whether they had hidden backup or not.
"We've heard that one before," the Roegadyn replied. The Hyur snatched the notepad from her pocket, and started flipping through the pages.
"Ah. Maps, potential routes, names. Contacts, no doubt," The Hyur said. He nodded to his partner. "Come on. Let's leave these lawful citizens to their drink." At that, the Roegadyn gripped her upper arm, and led her out while the Hyur bowed to the rest of the bar. “Enjoy your drinks, citizens.”
Her mind raced, now. She wasn’t the best soldier, but she was loyal. Though she felt it was the right thing to do, she knew she was violating orders to be where she was. She knew she should go with the men, and take her due punishment...but she wasn’t so eager to abandon her personal mission.
.....
Outside the bar, she looked about, and her ears turned and she looked and listened for any of their potential cohorts. "You know, normally I wonder why so many of you try to defect to Eorzea. Your homelands I get, but what is it about those savages that's so alluring?" the hyur commented as she was practically dragged down the empty, dark street.
"I told you, I'm not defecting,” she replied, getting annoyed by the accusation. “I'm a loyal soldier, and have been since I voluntarily joined twenty years ago!"
"A full score and still merely 'oen Lepus'," he replied. "Promoted only to be demoted. Good scout, but poor leadership skills, and has trouble getting along with others. Still got a bit of savage in you, hmm?" He held his hand up for them to stop, then turned and faced her, arms folded. "But I'll humor you. If you're not defecting, what are you doing here?"
She huffed and muttered something. The Roegadyn gave a short laugh, hearing her, and the Hyur arched his brow. "Sorry, what was that?"
"Trying to get to Eorzea," she replied more clearly. "But I swear I'm not defecting!"
"Then what are you doing? What-" He held up her notepad, waving it about. “-are the names in this book?”
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
"I wasn’t malingering. I have been having nightmares, but not just that!" She rubbed her forehead, eyes closed for a moment before she opened them and looked to him again. "I see things when I'm awake, too, so I started taking down words and names when I’d come out of it. After doing the research, I've found they're all places and people in Eorzea. Places and people I’ve never heard of.”
She hung her head. “Don’t you see? I have to know why! I have to know if they did something to me!" She balled a fist, and gritted her teeth at him. “And I’d never join those bloody savages! I never would! Especially not after the insults and betrayals they’ve paid us for trying to help them!”
Though the Hyur didn't seem moved by her words, the Roegadyn commented, "Don’ know, Sir. Seems too weird to be made up, and me homeland is pretty strange like that."
The Hyur shushed him. "Quiet." He looked to her again, tapping his foot. "Okay, Let's say I believe you that you’re not a defector. Your orders were still not to leave the place you were stationed in. You’re absent against orders at best, and a deserter at worst." To this, she had no contest.
"Fine. As long as you don't think I'm fool enough to defect, I'll take my licks for going out of bounds."
"Heh. Like you have a choice." He turned and they started on again. In that moment, a strange sound caught her ears, and her long ears turned towards it.
"Do you hear that?" The Roegadyn soon commented.
The hyur slowed his steps, then stopped. He searched the skies, squinting. "Yeah...sounds like thunder, but...." He didn’t need to finish the thought: It was a clear night.
The Viera suddenly grabbed her head again, groaning and squeezing her eyes shut. "Argh!" She went weak in the knees, but instead of pulling away from the Roegadyn - who assumed she was acting - she gripped his arm tightly for support.
“Oi! What’s wrong with you?” the Roegadyn grumbled.
The Hyur would have turned back to deal with the matter, but the noise continued to hold his attention. He focused on the sky, "Shut her up, w- Wait...what in the hells is that?" A dark shape was moving through the sky above them, the thundering coming from its direction.
Then it shifted course, and seemed to be heading towards them. Upon realizing this, the hyur shouted, "Take cover!" and ran for an alley. The Roegadyn punched his charge in the shoulder so she’d let go, and then followed his superior. They watched as the dark cloud slammed into the Viera like a freight train, throwing her back. It swarmed around her before flowing into her.
She convulsed violently while the two men watched, jaws agape. Then she went still. "She dead?" came the Roegadyn's query.
As if to answer him, she groaned and sat up, rubbing her forehead. "...Artillery?" she asked to no one in particular. The two men looked at each other, then to her, staring, stunned. She looked to them, and then stood up quickly. They made no move to approach, and their expressions suggested that, while they weren't quite afraid, they were now filled with an abundance of caution.
She doubled over, suddenly, and vomited up a dark, sticky fluid. She groaned as she finished, then her eyes - and those of the men - went wide. The dark fluid writhed on the ground, twisting and coiling like some sort of malformed creature. She ran around it to them, but they didn't seem interested in being too close to her, edging away, taking their eyes off the fluid just long enough to do so.
It stopped moving, then seeped into the pavement. For a moment, there was silence as she stared at where it had been, and they stared at her. "I...I think I need a medicus," she muttered before growing nauseous again. She reached out to grab the Hyur's arm for support. As soon as her hand touched his bare arm, he started screaming. Starting where she touched, and spreading from there, his arm began to wither. When she saw this, she withdrew her hand quickly and backed away from the pair. The Roegadyn pulled the axe off his back and readied it against her.
She backed out of the ally, taking the hint. "I'm...I'm sorry!" she offered, then turn and ran. As she passed a shop, she caught her reflection in the window. What she saw unsettled her, but she didn't have time to question it now. She had to focus on grabbing her things from her inn room, leaving this town, and finding another way to Eorzea.
BOLD ANY FEARS WHICH APPLY TO YOUR MUSE.
ITALICIZE WHAT MAKES THEM UNCOMFORTABLE.
the dark. fire. open water. deep water. being alone. crowded spaces. confined spaces. change. failure. war. loss of control. powerlessness. prison. blood. drowning. suffocation. public speaking. natural animals. the supernatural. heights. death. dying. intimacy. rejection. abandonment. loss. the unknown. the future. not being good enough. scary stories. speaking to new people. poverty. loud noises. being touched. fame. peace. steady life habits. routine. being looked down on. responsibility.
Steia sat cross-legged at the edge of a cliff in Lower La Noscea, her sword unsheathed across her lap. Eyes closed, she endeavored to still her mind for just a moment, preparing. It wasn't easy. Doubts crept in, assailing her resolve endlessly. She distracted herself by thinking to the home below her.
She thought about how it was little more than a fisherman's hut, a single room divided up by sheets hung from fishing line. Humble furnishings were found within: an old stove that was difficult to light, a card table to sit at and eat food, and old sacks stuffed with any sort of cloth that could be found to serve as beds. Yet, for a time, it had been home.
It would be gone, soon.
Eyes opened, she looked to the east, across the sea to the mainland. The lesser moon, Dalamud, was visible just over the horizon. It glowed an angry shade of red, almost foreshadowing the fury of its prisoner. "Any moment, now," she muttered to herself, standing and pacing. Really, she should have been in that hut, waiting to hear the terrible cacophony that was to be Dalamud splitting open. Being up the cliff put her a hundred yalms or so closer to her objective, but she was in the mood to cheat.
She could hear the sound of reality tearing nearby. A planar fissure opened as the veil between the worlds thinned with the nearing rejoining. It was small, not lasting long at all, but it was enough to allow a pair of voidal creatures to pass through. Simple imps, but starved as most voidsent, they rushed at her to sup on her aether.
She'd been at this for almost three moons, and was becoming proficient. The first stroke of her sword separated one of the imps from its head, giving the second one pause. It was just enough for her to slip to its side and sever one of its wings. As it fell to the ground, she plunged her sword into it, the weapon drinking deeply from the creature's aether.
"This yet again?"
A thunderous noise from the east announced the dreadwyrm's arrival as the artificial moon split open over the mainland. Even at this distance, she could feel the force of the event. She watched it for but a moment before she began racing up the path. More planar fissures opened as the aetheric upheaval sent the land into chaos.
"Is there aught you wish to prove?"
Her sword bit into the nearest creatures before they could fully pass through their portal, and she continued on her path. It seemed she was assailed with every step, but she gave back as much as she received, not as concerned with destroying the vile creatures as she was with dissuading them from following her.
"Mayhap that you are not useless without your power?"
She could feel the pulsing beat of the dreadwyrm's flight overhead as its rampage brought it to La Noscea. She couldn't look to it, though, as a succubus appeared ahead of her. She ducked low to avoid the first deadly strike of its claws before swinging her sword upward to take the flying creature's hands. She muttered, "Sorry sist-"
"Tsk."
An explosion went off to her left, sending her flying. It had slipped her mind that the hut would be destroyed just then. Racked with pain, she scrambled to her feet, fumbling for her sword. As she grabbed it, she looked up to the sight of more creatures coming for her, barring her path. She shouted in anger, and took to them even as destruction rained around her.
"You are pathetic."
The sword cut cleanly through the voidal creatures. If there was any failure to be had, it couldn't be blamed on the weapon. As it drank deeply the aether of the creatures it struck, it leaked the aether back into her, quickening her movements and sharpening her senses. Just a few more and she'd be through this wall.
"You cannot save her. You have not the power."
She broke free, and continued sprinting. A hill was coming into view, and with it, the miqo'te woman that stood atop it. Steia's breath caught in her throat; her charge should have been in the cave by now. She called out to the woman, but her voice was lost in the Calamity raged around them.
"For what reason do you bother? You know the truth."
Once she was closer, she could see: her charge was beset by more creatures. The miqo'te woman used her spells to fend them off, but was unable to make headway. Steia drove herself onward to her aid, assaulting the creatures from behind. She was so close. All she needed was an opening, and then she could lead the woman to the relative safety of the cave.
"She will turn you away when you need her the most. As will all mortals."
Steia's senses were suddenly overwhelmed by light, sound, and vicious pain as one of the dreadwyrm's assaults struck them directly. A moment later, she sat up, surrounded by empty white with nothing but her armor and sword. Her wounds, pain, and the filth of battle were gone.
A heavy sigh came from behind her, and she stood swiftly, turning about to face the demoness watching. Steia said nothing, having no words for Esoterica. Esoterica huffed and asked, "Will you ever learn?" before disappearing in a cloud of dark aether.
Steia muttered in reply, "Not if I can help it." With that, she summoned the exit of the pocket dimension to her side and departed through it. She'd had her fill of training for the morning.
Steia L’Etoile: “Hardly can I stand it when I am making an effort to convince someone to do aught that I wish them to do, and another person interrupts with such intensity that the other person’s attention is completely taken from me.”
Scathach: If your muse had servants, how would they be treated?
Steia L’Etoile: “Truly would I prefer to have companions who aided me as I aid them. Alas, I fear a certain vile creature was not content with that, and so I find myself with one. I will care for him as well as I can, and should he desire to perform tasks to please me, I will set aside aught for him to do.
Nighean Esoterica: “If?” She laughs. “Mayhap you will be shocked to learn I have many servants, and I am want to do with them as I please. Mind you, I am not wasteful. I am no more likely to risk their mortal health than one of your benevolent rulers would be. Yet you should not expect me to be anything other than calculating as far as their use is concerned.
