PSL - Felih and Rihnn go to the First...

[featherfoot]

And it's not right.



P'rihnn is honestly not sure what happened. One moment he had been fighting Zenos - or rather, Elidibus in Zenos' skin - and the next he was here. He vaguely remembers being hit by a powerful headache and seeing Elidibus approach him as if for a decisive blow, but the voice that had called him didn't seem quite the same as before. Was this how it had been for the others? For the Scions? Did his body lie on the ground in the Ghimlyt Dark, soul torn away? And for this?

He looks around his surroundings, frown growing deeper and deeper as he realises he hasn't the slightest clue where he is. There is no place he knows with such dense, purple foliage... and the light shining down on him is strangely oppressive, though he can't say why.

Fortunately he can see a nearby structure, and what looks like it might be a path. He can vaguely make out something beyond the trees, too, so... that way, then. After checking to make sure he still has his chakrams, just in case, P'rihnn makes his way to the wooden structure, looking around him to see if he can spy someone he can question.

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[seasoflight]

Felih had only just taken hold of the strange device he'd found at the base of the Crystal Tower, the headache hitting him hard and fast before he found himself flying through a rift of aether and memories and darkness- only to wake in this strange purple forest.

He'd never seen such a sight, and he slowly sits up in confusion and gets to his feet, checking to make sure his things are still with him. A quick check of his soulstones and to his relief, his faerie familiar springs to life out of aether and settles on his shoulder. So his stones have kept their characteristics.

His chakrams are safely at his hips, tome in his bag, and he spies the Crystal Tower in the distance.

If nothing else, he recognizes that tower very, very well. A quick chat with a traveling trader later- a man who looks unnervingly familiar- and he makes his way to what appears to be a gate or guard post barring his way to the tower, and he hesitates.

None of this, save for the tower, is familiar.

He's distracted when Holly flies off his shoulder and starts to flit and curiously circle another stranger approaching the gate, and he follows her in confusion.

"Holly- don't bother strangers!" he chides, before looking at the other man before him. "Er, pardon... do you happen to know where this is?"

All the while, the faerie is looking in blatant befuddlement between the other Miqo'te and Felih.

[featherfoot]

To suddenly have what appears to be some kind of overgrown glittery butterfly in his face is exceptionally off-putting, and if he hadn’t learned some sense of restraint during his travels the thing would have been punched away very quickly. As it is, however, P’rihnn simply hops back with a small shout of surprise, before eyeing it carefully. It doesn’t look hostile...

At the sound of a voice however, his hands go to the chakrams at his hips reflexively before he realises that this person is also not hostile. Maybe being in an unfamiliar place has put him a little too on edge?

“I could ask you the same thing,” he answers, hands leaving his chakrams as he straightens up. Another miqo’te... a seeker, like him. It’s not often he runs into other Tia, so this is a bit surprising. “I was in the middle of a fight, and then I was here.”

[seasoflight]

Felih gently ushers his fae friend back onto his shoulder, where she pouts and crosses her arms, warily still looking between the two Miqo'te in confusion. This was weird! There were two of her partner! Well, one looked different, but their aether resonated...

"In the middle of a fight? With what?" he asks, glancing around and letting his ears swivel about to search for any odd sounds. "So we both have no idea where we are. Well, I'm going to check out the conspicuous glowing Crystal Tower," Felih says with a sigh, shaking his head.

"Hopefully someone will be around we can ask for directions. I'm Felih. And you?"

[featherfoot]

“Long story, best told not in the middle of nowhere,” P’rihnn says, with a shrug that doesn’t quite convey how uneasy he feels about it. Even if, by some miracle, he’s not lying soulless in the dirt for Elidibus to easily decapitate, what would Elidibus be doing now? He needs to finish that fight!

His tail twitches, and he looks up to the sky again, seeking out the Crystal Tower that had been hidden not too long ago by the trees. That there is another mystery to figure out.

“P’rihnn Tia,” he introduces himself, and he glances back at Felih to see if there’s any recognition. He is a little bit famous, after all.

[seasoflight]

"P'rihnn, then. A pleasure! Ah, and this is Holly," Felih says, gesturing to the faerie on his shoulder, who is still looking at P'rihnn suspiciously. "I'm not sure what got into her, earlier, she doesn't usually fly off like that."

"For now, it seems we're in the same boat. We may as well go ask together," he chirps, taking a few steps before he notes the chakrams at Rihnn's hips.

"Oh! You dance, too?" he says, lighting up as he starts leading the way towards the gate.

[featherfoot]

P’rihnn’s eyes linger on the faerie for a long moment, trying to puzzle out what she is as well as what she seems to be so confused by. “I see...”

As for Felih... this Tia seems to be about his age, and it’s interesting to see that he also carries chakrams. They are not the most common of weapons found in Eorzea, after all, and he’d never really encountered anyone who wielded them until he met Troupe Falsiam. “...yes. Not something I ever thought I would take up as a battle art, but you could say it feels right.” There’s a small snort of a laugh. “Normally I just use my fists.”

[seasoflight]

Felih looks P'rihnn up and down for a moment, and nods. "Seems like it. You've the physique of a fighter," he chirps, tail swishing behind him as he walks, the movements fluid. Felih moves like a slinky cat, svelte and sly, an acrobat and dancer by profession.

"I've always favored dancing. It's fun," he hums, "And works quickly in battle, and I do prefer getting the dirty work done quickly. Less dust and dirt that way," he chirps, before gently poking at Holly. "Dear, don't stare. It's rude."

Holly just seems more petulant about this, fussing and yelling in a series of chimes and bells that Felih somehow seems to understand.

"Is that so...? Nn, we'll talk about it later."

It's about that point they finally reach the gates, and Felih looks around curiously.

"Hello? Anybody here? We're quite lost..."

[featherfoot]

Less dust and dirt... who cares about dust and dirt? Still, it seems that Felih is no stranger to battle either, which is good to know.

“Quite how you can be ‘lost’ with such a distinctive landmark ahead of you, I can only guess,” comes a steady, female voice as a viera woman dressed in a guard’s uniform approaches them at the gate. “You are come to the Crystarium, travellers.”

She folds her arms and looks to the pair expectantly.

“Should you wish to proceed, you shall answer my questions.”

Really? P’rihnn is quite sure he is the one who should be asking questions here, but he waves his hand as a prompt to go on.

“From where do you hail?”

[seasoflight]

Felih blinks at the Viera woman, ears perking up at the sight of the chakrams at her hips. He's finding lots of fellow dancers today! Still, he can't help but be baffled.

The Crystarium? What is that?

"Crystarium...? I've never heard of such a place..." Felih muses, before responding. "I'm from the sea city of Limsa Lominsa."

But if that voice in his head was true- if that device he'd been holding worked... Is there even a Limsa Lominsa, in this realm? He glances curiously at P'rihnn, wanting to hear where he's from.

[crystaltower]

The Exarch had wondered if the pair would return to him for more information, but it seemed that after making such a terrible impression, neither of them thought he would offer up any answers. Fortunately, they were able to figure out what to do and where to go without his input, leaving him able to observe through his mirror in the Ocular as they travelled through Lakeland in search of the Lightwarden. He leaned heavily on his staff, not willing to find a chair just yet, and kept his eyes fixed on the two.

Two Warriors of Light, their aether almost identical in such a way that they might as well be the same person... how in the world had that happened? Furthermore, it seemed that P’rihnn recalled exactly how he had first called upon Felih, so very long ago, and worried over the fate of the Scions. It was no wonder he was so quick to hate him, especially when denied his answers.

The Exarch supposes he should seek a way to put him back where he came from, and yet a small part of him can’t help but wonder if P’rihnn’s presence might change something.

His functional ear twitches as he feels another presence, and his posture straightens.

“Don’t.” Whatever comments his ‘guest’ has to make, he doesn’t want to hear them.

[emet_sulk]

A derisive scoff answers him from behind. "Don't be like that. I merely wanted to congratulate you earning yet another Warrior of Light's ire. How many times does that make it now? For someone so old for one of your kind, you seem to have accumulated no wisdom at all."

The incorporeal form of the Ascian known as Emet-Selch waves a flippant hand as he ambles across the Ocular in his dark robes. Reduced now to a soul haunting - or rather, possessed of - the Crystal Tower, he can only watch events proceed apace with mounting frustration. Like the Exarch, he too is bound to the Allagan edifice. More so, in fact, as the Exarch thwarts his every attempt to manifest outside of it.

"All your meddling has caused the flow of time to fray at the seams. You should have left well enough alone."

[crystaltower]

“You are well aware I do not intend to make friends of them,” the Exarch says, only barely tilting his head back for a moment to glance at his Ascian prisoner before returning his attention to the mirror, where Felih and P’rihnn fight against a horde of Sin Eaters. “It matters not what they think of me. All that matters is seeing my work done.”

His eyes follow the movements of P’rihnn as he dances, his movements at once like and unlike Felih’s, fighting with just as much ease.

“But I admit, I did not anticipate a second Warrior of Light. It bodes ill, his presence here... and yet, I can make use of him.”

[emet_sulk]

"Mayhap you should try it," he suggests witheringly. "I find winning others over cordially works far better than animosity. Or are you afraid of seeing the dismay in their eyes when you inevitably betray their expectations?"

Stewing quietly, he paces the small space restlessly. By now he's grown aware of every single piece of the tower, from its highest spire to its lowest depths. Yet he can scarce touch anything inside it. In this incorporeal form he does not need to eat or drink or sleep (as such) but the consequence of that is sheer utter boredom as he spends each passing day aware of the world outside.

The hollow ringing that emanates from the Tower on infrequent occasion is from when the ordeal grows too much, even for him.

"Besides, with two Warriors of Light looking at you unfavourably, who is to say they won't decide that you are a more immediate threat than we Ascians?"

[crystaltower]

“I would be dearly disappointed in them. There is little sport in striking down a frail old man.”

His fingers tap against the staff, and he again glances back at the Ascian, expression barely changing even as he simmers a little inside. Emet-Selch does not know the full extent of how many cycles he has been through, how many times he reached out to Felih in an effort to appear his friend, how many times he’s used and betrayed him. His trapping Emet-Selch here was several cycles ago, when he had some hope left.

“Though I do not mean to enrage them so,” he admits. “To see Felih so upset was hard to bear... I only meant to suggest his friend had passed as victim to nothing more than time.” He turns his attention back to Felih in the mirror, dancing around the great brute that was the Lightwarden.

[emet_sulk]

"Hmph..."

Eventually Emet-Selch tires of pacing and also turns to watch the two Warriors battle the Lightwarden. It's nothing he hasn't seen before. In past ages, there used to be far more heroes working under the title - and for Hydaelyn.

Just as the Exarch labours to undo the Eighth Umbral Calamity, he must needs labour to ensure it happens. To that end, having the Warriors of Light kill the Exarch would certainly be in his favour. If not for himself then at least for the Emet-Selch of whatever timeline he achieves it in.

"And how do you plan to use the spare?" he asks, not really expecting an answer. "Share the burden of the Light between them? Will you doom another parallel timeline for the sake of saving this one?"

[crystaltower]

The Exarch keeps his focus on the fight, but his answer comes quickly. “If he was being ‘called’, and in the same circumstances as I first called Felih, ‘tis plain his time faces oblivion regardless. A different Warrior of Light is not enough to make up for my failings.”

He turns away, tapping his staff against the floor and dispelling the image, not even waiting for the decisive blow - there is no question as to whether they will succeed against Philia, after all, he just wanted to see Felih in motion again, bright and young and alive.

“I do not know how he came here, or how to send him home. Why not have him share the burden?”

[emet_sulk]

More vocal derision. He spreads his arms in a half-hearted shrug then lets them flop back by his side.

"Wonderful." And then there's a pause as a thought occurs to him. "Ah, but why not go a step further: have the spare take in all the Light and then jettison them out into the rift?"

The mouth visible beneath his red mask curves into a smile. "Then your precious Felih would be safe from harm."

[crystaltower]

[To keep bad-end timeloop AU in the same place, but this is divergent from the main thread. Why? Because pain and suffering.]

This should not have happened! Not like this - it has never been like this!

In fact, Vauthry's retaliation wasn't even always a given - there had been several cycles where it had been averted entirely, sparing the Exarch the agony of seeing his people so brutally massacred once more. When it wasn't, he had always made advance preparations, reducing their losses greatly from that first horrific onslaught.

This time it came early. His preparations incomplete, his order to withdraw too late, and the sheer number of Sin Eaters far beyond what it had ever been before. Many had even barred the gates, actively preventing people's retreat. What was different this time? What had provoked such an increase in aggression? It was all the Exarch could do to maintain the shield over the city and protect those who remained, hoping desperately that his people and the two Warriors of Darkness would prevail.

He doesn't know what has happened when finally the barrage ends. He doesn't dare even look, the mirror that serves as his window to the world remaining a blank and glowing blue as he drops to his knees under the strain, staff clanging to the floor.

Is this... the end of it? Do they live? Does Lyna live? He doesn't want to see - doesn't want to see the brutalised remnants of all those people he silently cares for. Not again.

Already, he is tempted to loop back once more, but first he must at least motivate himself to see the damage. He must at least make sure it is still possible to achieve his goals, even with what he assumes to be a far greater loss of life than he would ever have wanted, but...

He cannot bear to even look.

[seasoflight]

Felih is exhausted. The sheer sudden nature of the attack, the overwhelming numbers, the amount of blood spilled and lives lost... What in the seven hells had happened? The shields had gone up around the Crystarium, but so very little could be done for those outside its walls, not with how the Sin Eaters had coordinated to cut off any route of escape for the fleeing civilians.

And all the while, where was this Exarch? This supposed guardian of the Crystarium? While people were fighting and dying to defend the city, where was this ultimate protector?

Felih could not, and would not be stopped from charging up through the Crystal Tower's sprawling labyrinth of staircases and passages, going to where he knows by now the Ocular is. He slams the doors open and strides in, although his immediate anger falters slightly when he sees the Exarch on his knees on the floor, the staff forgotten on the floor nearby.

"...Exarch?" he calls cautiously, though his healing instinct wins out as his hands begin to glow with aether. "Are you wounded?" He comes closer, expecting the usual barrier- but to his surprise, finds none in his way.

[crystaltower]

At the sound of Felih's voice, the Exarch finds himself going rigid, as though his blood simply froze. A strange combination of utter relief to hear that he yet lives, and a chilling realisation that he is completely unguarded - even as he kneels in the middle of the Ocular, he still maintains the shield over the Crystarium in case of strays, in no position to concern himself with personal barriers. He hadn't even realised that Felih had entered the Tower, when ordinarily he would be aware of any movement within its walls.

"Stay back!" he is quick to protest, loud enough for his raspy voice to crackle. "Do not concern yourself with me!"

[seasoflight]

"No, I certainly will not stay back," Felih says, immediately striding forward towards the man on the floor. "You're clearly wounded or otherwise exhausted- you've collapsed. And as the supposed protector of this city, I have every right to 'concern' myself with you!"

Stubborn and annoyed now, he kneels down beside the hooded figure and starts to run glowing hands over the man's body through the clothing, checking for wounds or injuries, but instead just stunning himself with how much crystal he finds instead. It was one thing to see the hands, the feet, claimed by crystal- but this man's near entire body was...

It gives him pause.

"...where were you? The entire city fighting to defend itself, to try and save any outside the walls... and you were here?"

[crystaltower]

So focused is he on his connection to the Tower, keeping that shield up, that he cannot even resist Felih's attempts to investigate whatever wounds he imagines he must have beyond the instinctive flinch. He cannot bear having him so close, and unconsciously his teeth grind together as he tries to tolerate it to the best of his ability, but it's so hard.

"You are a distraction," he near hisses. "I yet maintain the barrier shielding this city. An attack of this scale has left it greatly weakened, and I cannot allow them within the city walls."

[seasoflight]

Felih flinches slightly, and a low growl starts to rumble in his chest. A rare sound, from the usually cheery Miqo'te, but he's irate now, his tail lashing to and fro.

"So you maintain the barrier. A distraction, am I? My! For a distraction to be summoned across the rift, stolen from my home and loved ones, daring to worry about your health even despite it all!" The glow of aether fades from his hands as they instead grip at the front of the Exarch's robes.

"How dare you," he hisses. "Keeping me at arm's length after all you've done to me, after all I'm trying to do for both our worlds. Refusing to tell me aught that may help me understand- help me to help!"

[crystaltower]

Even as he grips the front of his robes, Felih will quickly find that crystal spreads beneath his hands, spreading across not only the Exarch's chest but through the fabric and glowing bright blue as the Exarch makes a barely distinguishable hiss of pain... but he doesn't resist. He wants to, but he can't, lest his hood fall back and reveal the truth of it. The very last thing he wants is for Felih to realise this hollow monster of a man is all that is left of his treasured friend.

"Let me go," he says, voice soft but with an undeniable tremble to it that prevents him from sounding the unfeeling automaton he has presented himself as. "I know very well what I have done."

[seasoflight]

The tremble in the man's voice makes Felih's anger falter yet again, and he finds it harder to hold onto it. He's not one to hold onto anger for long, but damn it all, he's trying to be angry and the tremble in that voice makes his heart break, his hands trembling where they keep gripping tightly at the man's robes.

"You called me here to help them," he says, voice weak. "You called me here to help. So why won't you let me? Why won't you tell me what I need to know? Let me help!"

It's as he's bowing his head and tugging the man closer that he catches it.

The faintest trace of an all-too-familiar scent. Something that makes him freeze and tense up, although his grip becomes tighter.

"...this... your scent..."