Chapter Text
Part I : Crumbling
L'aevum Mon-daiz stepped lightly onto the swaying boat, causing ripples in the otherwise still and clear water below. The sky shown a brilliant, uniform, unnaturally golden hue above her.
The strange floating dreamscape felt as manufactured as the Gold Saucer. Pleasantries rounded every corner, split off into areas for one to leisurely visit. Artificial lights and engineered paths adorned the world, giving the air a feeling which only the most disconnected beings would find worldly.
But as opposed to the Gold Saucer, and perhaps its main draw, there was no rush here. Its residents had eternity to explore. A serene garden of nature was to her north, hosting every known plant from around the star. To her east was an amusement park, as colorful and joyful as she could have wished for as a kid. To her northeast, a museum dedicated to the land's founding and the people who made this artificial world possible. A land of human forced pleasantries, aligning with its residents' deepest desires. If you asked the living, the air smelled of nothing. If you asked the dead, they would say the air smelled of popcorn and pizza, chocolate and pie, roses and daffodils. Answers varied.
At the time, the Warrior of Light was on a gondola boat placed in a city with wide canals and low buildings; where lovers strolled and smiled, enjoying their endless time.
Though, that wasn’t what her mind was occupied with. Instead, she sat on a lovely plush red seat, watching her dear friend G’raha Tia step on and sit confidently on the bench across from her. He looked relaxed for what seemed to be the first time in ages, at least in front of her. His maroon red eyes had softened; Miqo’te ears laid back at ease. His lips held a light curl at their ends. Not brimming with excitement, but not bored either. He seemed content.
This was quite different from how L’aevum viewed him in months past. Every time they had crossed paths since news broke of the world's end, time worked as a scrambled blurr. From the Finals Days as they knew it, to his propensity for running off to the students or the Noumenon during any and all of his free time; he slid from place to place far too fast for any meaningful time alone. As soon as the crushing threat was neutralized and the world slowed to a crawl, he would disappear to Sharlayan. The last time they had simply been able to sit together was far before she had been called off to Tural to help in the rite of succession. And almost naturally to him, he was only able to show his face again once blatant danger was on the horizon.
All of this was, of course, despite her insistences.
“Please come to Tural with us. I want to have some real fun with you, something with no world-ending stakes. I hate seeing you locked away behind doors doing paperwork or reading about these places you could be seeing with us! I promised to take you on adventures, Raha. The students will be fine, and any of the friends of the Scions will watch over the organization,” L'aevum pleaded with him.
He looked at her, then down at the mounting paperwork on his desk. “I’m sorry, L'aevum, I can’t.”
End of conversation. She didn’t push more, despite the blatant disregard of his own wishes. After all, she couldn't deny the importance of the Students of Baldesion. They would do great things with him at the helm.
Mere hours before, as they unlocked the City of Gold, G’raha had nearly insisted on staying behind. If Y’shtola hadn’t given him a good reason to go, he wouldn’t have adventured in, a far cry from his obvious enthusiasm when Alzadaal’s treasure was mentioned so many months ago. So insistent on adventuring with her by word, so much so that he made it his final wish twice, and yet…
Grasping his wishes was like grapsing a fish. The Slime King, to be exact.
But here they were, on a gondola ride he had insisted they take after helping a long lost lover propose to his sweetheart. A sweetheart who had remembered him for decades, perhaps centuries, despite the Alexandrian curse of forgetting.
She only realized they were moving when G’raha confidently raised his hand to wave at a few passersby. She smiled at them, obviously lovers. Everyone here was. A sweet, quiet little ride through a false town holding simulacrums of the dead. If his track record stayed consistent, then it would be the closest the two would be for more weeks or months. L'aevum forced herself content with the silence.
Then G'raha stopped waving.
“Do you remember what I said to you before all this?” L’aevum turned to face him. He responded before she could think to answer his question. “That life is a series of journeys. That you must be true to yourself, for indeed, there is no telling what awaits.”
It was a long time ago when she realized that much of the advice given to her by G’raha was vague, faierie-tails far easier told than lived. Still, she crossed her legs and listened intently. She never mentioned her grievances, to do so would be shaming herself as well. With the books he read for a century, filled with short public quotes of her own, she knew where he got it from.
G’raha sighed. “I don’t know about you, but I certainly didn’t expect to behold such sights. The future is as fluid as the water beneath us, truly.”
He had not been the most open book since returning from the First, but when he did speak of the lessons from his past, it was in that poetic way. Hidden under layers of similes and metaphors, held underwater by the weight of their own deeply intrinsic meaning.
There was silence as the boat meandered through the completely still waters. Assuming that was all he had to say, L’aevum turned her head back towards the scenery. Golden flecks sprinkled the air in front of her face, a reminder of how unnatural it all was.
“Tell me, my friend, have you ever wished to be reunited with someone who has passed away?”
L'aevum could not keep the shock from her face as she turned towards him. Of course she did, and he should know as much with how well read on her entire life he claimed to be.
Upon seeing her expression, G’raha thought for a long moment. “... I have. I do. But I think… above all else, I wish that they had lived.”
Perhaps it was a confirmation of suspicions. Gods, did it enrapture her to hear him say it aloud. She saw through him as if he was the strike of an enemy in her last battle. Never as sneaky as intended; or maybe he wanted to be caught.
“If only for one more day. One more day… a joyous one, if I could choose. I did all that I could to make it happen. I tried everything. Spared nothing.” He broke eye contact with her, glancing down at the boat. “In that manner, I was able to keep some few souls out of harm’s way. But so, so many more were beyond my power to save.” His voice broke at the end as he looked up and over the boat’s bow. Purposefully avoiding her eyes with his own’s ascent.
“What would I have done then, had I this…?”
The water rippled around the boat, a quiet answer to a daunting question.
“And you- can you imagine yourself spending eternity here, knowing no loss?”
She would be a stranger to herself in such a world. But still, the answer was not as simple as she would have wished.
The boat pulled in next to a dock, and the couple wordlessly unboarded. “‘Twas nice to chat with you again, my friend. It feels as though it has been some time.”
And she figured it would be even more time until the next.
Of course, right back on schedule, it was back to the mission at hand.
~~
L'aevum looked over Living Memory. All of the color was gone, save for the tower looming over the dead stone. Children no longer laughed in Yesterland. Lovers did not stroll the streets of Canal Town. The plants of Windspath Gardens had begun to wilt. The story within Asyle Volcane was nothing but a memory. Facades had faded away to dead stone, a forgotten world beneath all of the lights.
The final chapter was at play. She watched helplessly as her friends were compiled into jumbled letters and numbers, until it was only her and a shell of a ruler who once regarded all of her citizens as family.
You won’t take them away from me.
Not while I still fight.
And they drew their weapons.