Chapter Text
The Warrior of Light woke up in a warm patch of sunlight, her pillow feather-soft under her head, and more comfortable than she remembered being in a long time. She pulled the bedsheets over her head, eyes squeezed close against the brightness, sluggishly trying to grasp the last vestiges of sleep before they drifted away from her.
When had she last gotten a good night of rest? Travelling often necessitated light sleep; inns weren’t always available, so if she had to camp in the wild, it was in her best interest to be easy to wake, lest a beastkin catch her unawares and make a quick meal of her. That hadn’t been as much of an issue recently with Old Sharlayan as their base, but the habit didn’t die easily, and the pressure of stopping the end of the world hadn’t exactly made for sweet dreams as of late.
Now, though, with the burden of world salvation relieved, sprawled in what might be the softest bed in creation, she felt as though she could doze forever. She did wonder though, pleasant as the sunlight was, perhaps if she closed the curtains, the darkness would help her get back to sleep…
With great reluctance, Kana pushed herself up to sit, stretching and cracking her joints as she did. Eyes still half closed, she got as far as swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing up before she realised something was wrong.
The sunlight was not coming through an inn window, but a set of tall glass doors that led out onto a balcony. Translucent white drapes hung across them: enough to obscure the view while still letting the light in. The room was bright and airy, a high ceiling hosting a simple but elegant chandelier above her, and enough sparse furniture items around to make it clear this was someone’s bedroom. Someone that was most definitely not her.
Kana felt her whole body go cold, blood rapidly draining from head to toe. She had no recollection of getting here, and the more she scrambled through her memory, the less sure she became of where here could even be at all. The architecture was unfamiliar. Not the comforting wood of Gridania, nor the cool marble of Limsa Lominsa, nor the solid sandstone of Ul’Dah. No tatami mats, no notable patterns or colours, nothing to help discern even what country she was in, let alone whose home.
She forced herself to pause, take a breath, and think. What happened last night? What had she been doing?
The memories were reluctant to surface, like pulling boots through thick mud, but with desperation and insistence they slowly started to become clearer. She remembered travelling to Azys Lla for… something. Materials? G’raha had been there. Yes, they were searching for something together. They had suggested splitting up to cover more ground. And then…
The memory went blank. She didn’t remember leaving the island, or returning by aetheryte. She didn’t remember finding G’raha again.
Kana scanned the room again as though expecting a red-haired Miqo’te to appear in her peripherals at any moment, but unsurprisingly, there were none to be found—only the cool neutrals of the furnishings, the empty space, and, most inexplicably, her.
Although that might not have always been the case. The bed she had woken up in was large, even bigger than a double, and from the look of the indented mattress and pillows on the opposite side, someone had been sharing it with her.
Dread dropped into Kana’s stomach like a piece of lead. She realised with sudden clarity she was only wearing her underclothes, with no sign of her armour anywhere—or weapons for that matter. No matter how much she clawed through her memories, there was nothing after separating from G’raha, and certainly nothing explaining how she would end up alone, undressed, unarmed, in bed with a stranger. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had an overnight tryst, but it was the first time she had woken up with no recollection of it.
She began to feel a little sick. Had she been drugged? Surely not—she was careful, so, so careful of accepting food and drink now, having learnt from one too many incidents in the past. Besides, it wasn’t like she remembered being in a tavern or anywhere else someone might be able to slip something in. Everything she brought with her to Azys Lla was from her personal rations, and she knew it was safe.
With precious little information to go off, and a growing sense of nausea, Kana decided that looking outside was as good a place to start as any. She forced herself to take a steadying breath in, a breath out, and then pushed open the balcony doors to step out onto the terrace.
It was a modest space, small but cosy, with rows of planters and assorted pots lining the ground and railing, a colourful array of flowers blooming within them. Three chairs sat in the centre, facing away from the apartment, their arms close enough to touch. There was a pleasantly cool breeze, the scent a perplexing mix of ocean air and freshly cut grass, and before she even looked up, Kana realised she knew where she was.
Amaurot. A city she had never truly seen, but could recognise in an instant. The shapes of the buildings echoed the imitation Emet-Selch had created in the depths of the Tempest, sloping silver spirals and unfathomably tall towers spread out across the horizon ad infinitum, but it was so much more vibrant, so much brighter than his playset had ever been. The streets below bustled with cloaked figures everywhere, some joined in groups, chatting and debating, while others simply walked alone, unhurried, heading towards their destinations with self-assured purpose. The gentle murmur and hum of a city alive rose all the way up to the balcony.
Kana stared out blankly, heart pounding, the sound of the city feeling further and further away with every passing second. She must be in the past again, in Amaurot before the Final Days, before it was all destroyed, but how—how—
A voice rang out from inside the apartment. “Azem? Are you awake?”
That voice. She recognised that voice.
Sure enough, from behind the fluttering curtain of the balcony doors, Hythlodaeus cautiously popped his head out. He looked just as he did in Elpis—lilac hair braided loosely to the side, mask hanging loosely from his cloak to reveal his face, warm and smiling. Her old new friend.
“Hythlodaeus,” Kana said, breaking into a smile of pure relief in spite of herself. She had given up hope of seeing him again after he and Emet-Selch departed for the aetherial sea, and she hadn’t realised how much seeing him again would make her heart clench. “What are you doing here?”
Hythlodaeus laughed. “Our ever diligent friend Emet-Selch asked me to come check on you if you weren’t up by midday. He was worried the wine might have been a tad too strong and didn’t want you to, and I quote, ‘use your own lack of self control as an excuse to shirk your responsibilities to the Convocation.’”
The answer only left her with more questions. “Emet-Selch?” she repeated. “Wine? I don’t—what are you talking about? How did I get here?”
Hythlodaeus’ smile faded slightly as he gave her a perplexed look. “Perhaps the wine really was too strong. Do you not remember last night at all?”
Kana shook her head. The brief relief at seeing Hythlodaeus again was rapidly being overtaken by renewed panic. He shouldn’t be here—or, really, she shouldn’t be here, if this truly was Amaurot.
There was a long pause as Hythlodaeus stared at her. He cocked his head one way, and then the other, peering in a way that gave Kana the distinct feeling her very being was under observation, something far deeper than skin. After a long time, he straightened up again and gave a small, contemplative hum.
“Your soul is as brilliant as ever, no signs of anything deeper amiss,” he said. “You did drink quite a lot last night, although I wouldn’t expect that to leave you completely adrift. I assume you at least remember the envoy from Iamais dropping by yesterday?”
“No. I don’t even know where that is.”
Something else clicked into place as Hythlodaeus’ words slowly churned in her head. Her soul was ‘as brilliant as ever’? Hythlodaeus had never been as dismissive of her sundered nature as Emet-Selch, but her soul objectively wasn’t as brilliant as ever; it was barely over half of what it was when it belonged to Azem, if her maths on the rejoinings was correct, at least from an Ancient perspective. Which would mean…
“Come,” Hythlodaeus said, “now I will start to suspect you’re teasing me. You don’t remember the name of the village you just saved barely a fortnight ago, and their famously delicious grapes?”
The world sounded very, very far away now. Kana knew this story. “The one… with the volcano?”
“Ah, good, you do remember.”
She did, in a sense. But it was not a memory of her own actions—just a passing anecdote from Hythlodaeus himself, back in Elpis. A fond story about his dear friend, who Kana never had the chance to meet. Not in the traditional sense, at least.
“Hythlodaeus, may I ask you something?”
“Of course. Is everything alright?”
Kana looked up at him, realising in some distant part of her mind that their eyelines were much closer than she remembered back in Elpis. “This may seem like a strange question," she said slowly, "but what is my name?”
Whatever Hythlodaeus had expected her to say, it clearly wasn’t that. “This does feel like a trick question,” he responded after a beat, a small, confused smile on his face. “But I shall play along. Your given name is Kana, although to most you are known by your title as Azem, the Traveler, and the Fourteenth seat of the Convocation of Fourteen.”
The words echoed in her mind. Azem. Not Azem’s familiar, or her sundered soul, but the actual Azem herself.
Something had gone very, very wrong.
Kana rubbed at her arms anxiously, trying to breathe, trying to calm down, only to realise that sensation wasn’t right either. Too smooth. She looked down to inspect the scales on her arms, only to realise they were gone entirely. All at once, she realised they were all gone—along with her tail. She reached up to touch her horns, only to be met with air.
Hythlodaeus was looking at her again, saying something with a frown, but she couldn’t make it out over the pounding in her ears. Ears. That wasn't right either.
The Warrior of Light was not one to give into panic easily, but Kana suddenly knew with icy certainty that she was about to pass out.
She was dimly aware of Hythlodaeus catching her before she could fall, his arms steady and reassuring around her shoulders—too tall, not hers—but his voice was far away, quickly subsumed under static, and then faded to nothing at all.
Kana woke up to the sound of scattered pieces of conversation, the speakers’ voices low and familiar.
“... Didn’t seem to know… asked… her own name…”
“Did she… and nothing unusual…?”
“Not that I… Perhaps we should call for… or ...”
“I’m always telling her… will make an excuse… the Convocation…”
She meant to keep her eyes closed and eavesdrop while she was presumed unconscious, but something in her breathing must have given her away, for no sooner had she become fully aware of being awake than the voices abruptly stopped.
“Azem?”
The voice was familiar, but that tone—the open concern for her—wasn’t.
The jig up, Kana slowly opened her eyes to discover she was back inside the same room as before, lying on the same bed she first woke up in, bed sheets tucked neatly underneath her this time. To the side of the bed stood Hythlodaeus, who she assumed must have been the one to move her inside after she fainted, and Emet-Selch, young and silver-haired as he appeared in Elpis, and currently looking at her with a disarmingly worried expression.
Kana opened her mouth to speak, but found her mouth unexpectedly dry, and only a croak came out. Before she could even think to ask, Emet-Selch snapped his fingers and a glass of water appeared on the bedside table. He sat beside her on the mattress and coaxed her into a sitting position so that she could drink.
The water was blissfully refreshing. Once she had gulped down half the glass, Kana placed it back on the table before turning back to Emet-Selch. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Hythlodaeus called for me,” he answered, “and told me you passed out after spouting nonsense about not knowing your own name. I came to check you hadn’t completely lost your mind, or else we’d need to start considering a replacement for your seat. ”
“Ever diligent to the needs of the Convocation,” Hythlodaeus said, a smirk tickling at the side of his mouth. “I trust your rush to return had nothing to do with your own distress for our friend.”
Emet-Selch scowled, but didn’t respond. He turned back to Kana instead, expression softening just a little as he looked at her. “How are you feeling?”
That was a question and a half. She felt vaguely clammy, everything around her simultaneously sounded a little too loud and little too distant to be comfortable, and her entire body felt… off. It wasn’t quite like the violation of Fandaniel forcing her soul into the body of the Imperial soldier back in Garlemald, but it was uncomfortable. Like trying to walk in shoes a size too big. She found herself rubbing her arms compulsively, seeking the scales she swore she’d had her entire life, and only feeling more misplaced when they’re not there.
“I’ve been better,” Kana replied honestly.
Emet-Selch huffed. “I can’t say I’m surprised. I did warn you that you were drinking to excess—not like you paid me any mind.”
There it was again. “So we were drinking wine together last night,” Kana said, trying to piece together the story in her head. “From Iamais. The island with the volcano?”
The lines on Emet-Selch’s forehead became even more prominent as he studied her now. “Iamais is the village on the island, but yes. A thank-you gift for your heroics, using the very grapes you claimed were the reason for stopping the eruption last week. A kind gesture, although perhaps not as kind as it initially seemed, seeing the state it left you in. I have half a mind to ask Emmerololth to examine you, if I didn’t still care to save you some small amount of dignity in the eyes of our associates.”
There was so much to take in that Kana didn’t quite know where to start. She tried to unpick the facts she had apart in her head, unravel and reframe it until it made sense to her. One piece of information at a time, she started to think through what she knew.
Fact 1: All signs suggested she was in Amaurot—the true, real Amaurot, before the Final Days, and before the Sundering.
Fact 2: As a consequence of Fact 1, Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus were still alive.
Fact 3: She no longer had any of her Au Ra features, and she had an uncanny feeling that if she were to look in the mirror, she would find an Ancient’s face looking back at her, eyes bright and glowing.
And finally, fact 4: Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus were under the impression she was Azem. Not a shard of Azem, not masquerading as her familiar—the whole, original soul. Complete. Intact.
Kana expected to feel an overwhelming panic as she laid out these facts, but to her surprise, everything clicked into place with an almost unsettling clarity. Somehow, it felt natural, as though this impossible situation was exactly where she was meant to be, by some logic that just wasn't evident yet. Right?
No, another part of her screamed. She was not Azem, and Amaurot was gone. Whether this was time travel, or some kind of illusion, or what, she needed to find G’raha and go home—
But throwing a fit or demanding answers right now wasn't getting her anywhere. Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus clearly believed her to be Azem, even with their soulsight, and her confused questions had only led them to conclude she was suffering from an alcohol-induced head injury. She had to play it cool, at least long enough for them to give her some breathing space, so she could investigate herself and work out what was going on.
And, in truth, beneath the practical reasoning, a small, selfish part of her didn’t want to leave right away. Seeing Hades and Hythlodaeus' faces again, alive and unburdened, was a gift she hadn’t dared to dream of. Their time in Elpis had been heartbreakingly short, their final farewell at Ultima Thule even shorter. Here, now, wherever and whenever this was, she could be with them without the crushing weight of the future pressing down on her. Even if only for a little while.
“... Do I need to take you to Emmerololth?” Emet-Selch asked, breaking Kana out of her musings. She realised she had been staring at the two of them without saying anything for a few moments too many.
“No,” she said decisively. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m fine, I promise. Just… a bit of a rough head from last night.”
Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus exchanged a look that she couldn’t quite decipher. An entire unspoken conversation seemed to pass between them in an instant. Kana wondered if the real Azem would have been able to read their expressions.
Whatever conversation the two of them had, it resulted in Emet-Selch turned back to her with a long-suffering sigh and starting to scan over her. He reached over and cupped the side of her face—causing Kana to briefly forget how to breathe—and started to tilt her head slowly in different angles, examining for some kind of injury or irregularity. He wasn’t looking at her body at all, but Kana suddenly became overtly aware of the fact she still wasn’t dressed.
“I-I’m really fine…” Kana managed to get out, although she had a feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks wasn’t helping her case. “I just had… weird dreams and was a bit out of it waking up. I didn’t expect to see you both.”
Emet-Selch raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t expect to see us in our own apartment?”
Our apartment. She had suspected as much, but the confirmation is useful. Of course they all lived together. Of course they did.
She really had to learn to lie properly if she was going to convince them she was Azem. That would be a lot easier if she knew what ‘normal’ was for Azem in the first place.
“I just meant that I thought you’d be working,” Kana said. “Isn’t there a…” She scrambled around in her brain for something that sounded plausible. “Convocation meeting today?
“There was meant to be,” Emet-Selch said, some of the tension in his shoulders loosening. “I had it postponed once I heard about your condition. It was nothing that couldn’t wait.”
Kana was a bit dumbstruck by her own luck at landing on a reasonable thing that Azem would know. She supposed endless meetings and bureaucracy was as safe a bet as any, regardless of what time you were in.
“However, it is true that I am expected at the Bureau any minute now,” Hythlodaeus said. “Loathe as I am to leave. I trust you will be staying to look after our friend, most benevolent Emet-Selch?”
Emet-Selch leaned back and sighed, finally dropping his hand from Kana’s face only for it to rest on her thigh as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “That is probably for the best. I dread to imagine what this one might get up to if I let her out of my sight in this state.”
Hythlodaeus chuckled. “Oh, don’t make it sound like such a chore. I am sure you’ll have a lovely afternoon together. Frankly, I’m rather jealous.”
“Don’t be. I intend for it to be as dull as possible while I make sure she doesn’t have a concussion—a task that will be easier without you around to enable her in any antics.”
“Enabling?” Hythlodaeus said. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He caught Kana’s eye with a mischievous smile, and she had the feeling there was an inside joke there that she was meant to know the punchline to.
Emet-Selch sighed and shook his head, but there was the hint of a smile there too—or perhaps just a less severe frown. Hythlodaeus leaned over and kissed him fondly on the forehead in such an unexpectedly open display of affection that Kana thought she hallucinated it for a moment, until Hythlodaeus leaned over and kissed her on the forehead in the same familiar, loving manner. Her skin burned.
“There’ll be time for antics later, but for now focus on getting some rest,” Hythlodaeus said. Kana nodded, not knowing how else to respond, and Hythlodaeus smiled at her again, bright and wonderful, before stepping away and starting to prepare himself for leaving.
Emet-Selch got up from the bed to assist, and as alarming as his casual touches had been, Kana found herself missing the warmth on her leg once he was gone. In a bit of a daze, she got up and followed behind them as they moved into what appeared to be the living room, Emet-Selch grabbing various odd items and papers from about the room to give to Hythlodaeus in what appeared to be a well-practised routine. They discussed when Hythlodaeus would return and what they would have for dinner, but Kana couldn’t find the space in her mind to quite follow along with the specifics.
It was an absurd moment for it to happen, but as she looked at the two of them going about their motions, relaxed and happy and alive, Kana felt a knot start to form in her throat. She couldn’t even identify exactly what was causing it. Her head was a jumbled mess of emotions; guilt, relief, confusion, joy—all jostling each other in a scramble for dominance with no clear victor.
Hythlodaeus turned towards her, about to say something, but stopped when he saw her face. “Is something wrong?” he asked, frowning.
“Azem?” Emet-Selch spun around to face her. His eyebrows were furrowed as always, but his voice betrayed that genuine concern again that left Kana feeling unmoored.
“No, no, I’m fine, I’m sorry,” Kana insisted, wiping the beading tears away from the corner of her eyes with her wrists. She gave them a wobbly smile. “It’s just… really nice to see you both. That’s all."
Meanwhile, in Old Sharlayan…
Y’shtola was in the library when the missive arrived. When was she ever anywhere else these days? The Noumenon, with its endless shelves of ancient tomes and forgotten knowledge, had become both her sanctuary and her prison. To say her investigation into methods for traveling to other worlds was going slowly would be an understatement; the progress she had made was practically nonexistent. She knew no more than she did when she had first embarked on this quest, save for the frustrating certainty that sections 1A through 3G of the library held absolutely nothing relevant to the task at hand. That conclusion had been reached only after painstakingly combing through every scrap of material contained within those aisles—a monumental waste of time she would rather not admit aloud.
Still, the search must go on.
She had been so wrapped up in her current book—a dense volume on Eikonic Interstitial Theory with a crumbling spine and ink so faded she could barely pick up its aetheric signature—that she almost missed the mammet desperately trying to catch her attention from the bottom of the ladder. She set the tome atop the increasingly precarious stack beside her, which teetered ominously for a moment before settling, before hopping down from the ladder with practiced ease.
“My apologies, I didn’t see you there,” Y’shtola said to the mammet.
“YoUr InDiScReTiOn Is FoRgIvEn,” the mammet replied curtly. “I bRiNg An UrGeNt MiSsIvE fRoM g’RaHa TiA.”
G’raha? It seemed odd that he would not just use their linkpea—oh. Y’shtola felt her ear for her linkpearl only to confirm what she just realised: she must have left it back in her quarters today. It had been so long since she’d been waiting on messages from others, with what was once the Scions of the Seventh Dawn now scattered across the lands on their own separate tasks and projects, that the habit of keeping it on her person had started to fade.
The mammet held out a small scroll and deposited it into Y’shtola’s hand. As it bowed and trundled away on its next task, she unfurled the paper, curiosity growing, to see a short message scribbled out in black ink that send her heart plummeting into her stomach.
Warrior of Light in danger
Come to Azys Lla ASAP