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"I will not suffer your arrogance any longer."
"I'm sorry, Hades, but I can't tell you anything."
A cold wave of shock pierced her after she realized how exactly she just called him. She slowly turned to look at his face. Emet-Selch froze in place, his pose remaining as before, hands folded on the chest, chin lifted up. But his lips were slightly parted now, eyes wide open, staring at her in fear and disbelief.
The Warrior made an attempt to smile reassuringly but failed.
"What?" He forced out.
"I-"
She pressed her lips in confusion. She had nothing to justify herself. She could make up something, but alas, her head was empty and the wind wandered there.
Emet-Selch glanced at Hythlodaeus, who was still chatting with Hermes about Meteion and her abilities. Then, he let his arms drop and stormed away from the place where he stood, while grabbing her wrist and squeezing it tightly. She winced and met his look: it was furious.
"Why did Hythlodaeus say my name to you?"
"He didn't!"
She preferred not to drag the purple-haired man into this. Although he deserved a little lesson, this would be too much.
Emet-Selch looked startled, but didn't let go of her hand. She didn't complain, though.
"So who did?"
The Warrior thought that she could tell him the truth here, at last.
"You."
He squeezed her wrist harder, and she flinched.
"How dare you."
Emet-Selch from this dimension was too young. He still was older than any of the sundered, but so impulsive, so stubborn. He could burst at any second just because she had said his name.
It always meant much to him. She would never, ever call him that on purpose, but right now, she was thinking about Emet-Selch from her timeline, when he made another fruitless attempt to draw something out from her. And his most precious secret slipped out without her intention.
How she was going to get out of this situation, she had no idea.
"Emet-Selch, have you finally realized how pretty our little guest here is?" the taunting voice of Hythlodaeus broke the heavy silence between them, "You're holding her so firmly. I'm sure she wouldn't run if you'd release her."
The Warrior blushed, and Emet-Selch quickly let go of her arm, even pushing it in her direction in his usual disdainful manner.
Hermes was lost in his own thoughts and didn't show a sign of noticing anything strange in the actions of the people surrounding him. Meteion lingered behind him, giggling at the emotions filling her now.
The playful smirk refused to vanish from Hythlodaeus' face. He looked like a fox, his eyes darting at startled Emet-Selch. The Warrior thought once again that a "new old friend" has been scaring her much more often than the threats from the yet-to-become Ascian. It felt nearly impossible to keep a secret from him.
"We'll speak later." Emet-Selch hissed through his teeth, addressing her.
The Warrior couldn't help but shiver from the anticipation and horror. Emet-Selch wouldn't simply let it slip away. He would ask questions again.
And she wasn't so confident that she would be able to answer any of them.
_
They gave her a whole room in the Anagnorisis to rest in. It was as if she wasn't a mere familiar. Or did the ancients treated their own creations better if they spoke and acted like people? What she had witnessed in Elpis so far left her with the impression that even creatures like Meteion couldn't be considered a person. And while Meteion was akin to a child to Hermes, nobody else shared his opinion, including Emet-Selch.
Looking at all this, his eventual disgust towards sundered was understandable. His whole society was built on the confidence that nothing with a soul unlike their own could be called an intelligent and thoughtful being. They have been creating life and then tossing it aside.
For them, she was much like the familiars in her own world, which were mindless, blind followers of their creator's will. Nobody would give them a room to sleep in.
It was probably Hythlodaeus who had asked for the third room for her. He was friendly enough.
In any case, she didn't complain and with a brief "Good night, friends," turned to walk to her chambers. But she felt that something was wrong.
Hythlodaeus chuckled and she heard the sound of his steps, quickly fading in a distance. She didn't hear the steps of Emet-Selch.
She looked back — yes, he stood right behind her with narrowed eyes, glowing dimly with a threatening gold.
"Holy shi- don't do this ever again!"
She recoiled from him, her palm pressed to the chest, her breathing stuttered.
"I have some questions," he said in a stern tone, "And you are keeping the answers from me. I will not surrender before you reveal where and how in the world you have learned my name."
"Your stubbornness is unbearable. Didn't you hear about the curiosity that killed the cat?" The Warrior straightened, the silver locks of her hair falling from her shoulder.
He curled his mouth into a crooked line.
"Your appearance and unwillingness to say why you need to meet the Chief of Elpis is one thing."
Emet-Selch stepped closer, tilting his chin a bit down and piercing her with the gaze so familiar that she even got goosebumps, "But the fact that you know my name, and hence, that you know me personally - a completely different." She bit her lip and glanced away. He was right.
"Hades, I wouldn't keep that kind of information from you if it couldn't hurt you. Please, believe me."
As she finished her sentence, she saw how he flinched again at the sound of his name. It was personal, of course, but his reaction…
"Don't call me that," he muttered. "You have too much of her aeth-" Emet-Selch cut himself off, and his cheekbones have suddenly slightly flushed red.
He tried to restore the usual blank mask on his face, but she noticed. She noticed, and smiled.
"Come on, say it."
"You have no idea."
"I have too much resemblance with Azem," the Warrior closed the gap between them only to look up at him with the same cold and passively aggressive smile, "Too much, but still not enough to be her. Would you like her to call you by name more often?"
"What kind of mockery is this?" Emet-Selch murmured weakly, staring at her. The threatening look changed to helpless, surprised and a little bit horrified.
This drove her even further, and she swallowed heavily. A lump stuck in her throat, she couldn't breathe properly from the feeling of permissiveness. She controlled him. Him, the powerful Ascian, the same one that has manipulated her all the time while he was alive!
"So? Would you like her to pronounce your name again?" Her voice took a darker tone, and she went for it, leaning closer to him. Too close, she realized.
Emet-Selch shivered, stepping back.
"You-" he scoffed. "Tempting woman. If you weren't a familiar…"
"Then what?" The Warrior crossed her arms. Her gaze was provocative.
He didn't hesitate.
"I would have arrested you."
She laughed mockingly. He looked at her, filled with something he didn't want to admit. She wasn't Azem in many aspects. But despite the fact that he really liked Azem (everyone knew it), he liked this girl even more now. They weren't so different, although they weren't the same.
Azem had raven-black hair with a single white strand, bright yellow eyes - just like his, only a bit darker, and the same mocking smirk he saw on the face of this strange creature now. But this creature wasn't a familiar, no. They simply didn't have a word in this place for the creation like that.
Too short even after he adjusted her size, a slender and energetic woman with the crystal-blue eyes, that's what she looked like. Her hair was silver, not black, and way longer.
She wasn't as stunning as Azem. She wasn't even complete.
Neverthless, he found himself being caught in those smart crystal eyes against his own will.
Emet-Selch ripped himself off from them and turned away, ready to leave the Warrior alone. She didn't try to stop him. He wasn't only rejected along with his questions but also got tricked by her in some way.
And as he stalked through the corridor to his apartment, he could still hear her purring velvety voice in his head, calling him by his true name.
–
She had a habit of reading before sleep, but she couldn't find anything, even a little journal here. It was likely that the ancients had a different method of preserving their information. With lives as long as theirs, they probably didn't need anything to keep their knowledge safe. One could simply be the vessel of it, and talk to others.
As she struggled to find what to do in her nighttime, she accidentally found the balcony, which was hidden behind an invisible wall. When she touched the window, it triggered the spell, and another door frame appeared. The balcony looked lovely, embraced by the thickets of ivy, leaves of it trembling from the gentle wind.
"By the Seven, Elpis is too comfortable," the Warrior murmured to herself, sinking into the wicker chair and allowing her tired body to finally relax, "How am I even supposed to leave it without regretting it?.."
A little light turned on automatically upon her entering; now glowing under the roof. The Champion of Eorzea closed her eyes, feeling heavy from being stuffed with her duties. And, although the Light from First had left her a long time ago, she could still sense a few cracks lingering on her soul.
The ones that couldn't be healed.
It started to rain. A hasteless sound of drops falling down made her feel too sleepy and she decided to go to bed, but right at that moment she‘d noticed someone down on the pathway.
After looking more closely, she realised that it was Emet-Selch. She recognized him by the white hair, although she wasn't entirely sure if she was right. He was just standing there, facing the night sky and ignoring the rain. The man had the ability to shield himself from it, but he preferred to get wet. Acting like this was rather out of character for him, and she felt herself caught by curiosity.
She thoughtfully tilted her head to the side. Was he distressed, or perhaps sleepwalking? Or did she actually fall asleep and dream it all?
"Hades?"
Emet-Selch jolted and turned back, surprised.
"What are you doing there?" he asked with the spark of indignity in his voice. She could barely hear him through the rain.
"What do you mean - 'what am I doing here', this is my room. And it has a balcony, could you imagine?"
The Warrior teased him for fun. If he was upset, it probably would've distracted him from his thoughts.
He didn't react as she expected him to. Emet-Selch still wasn't moving, and he didn't answer, staring in her direction.
She frowned, leaning on the railing.
"Do you want to join me?"
She had no idea what to say. She always offered her company to people who looked lost. Her presence wasn't needed most of the time, but she at least tried to present a friendly gesture.
To her surprise, Emet-Selch murmured something with agreement and headed back to the entrance.
The Warrior realized that he really was going to join her, and the tardy sense of fear had clutched her chest. What kind of a thing had she offered to him out of ignorance? What was she even thinking?!
It was too late, as she heard the gentle knock on the door. She dropped back into the chair, covering her face with a hand in confusion.
"Come in, or do you want another invitation?"
The Warrior wasn't looking at him, sitting there as she was, as his heavy steps drew nearer. Emet-Selch glanced at her, then at the balcony and at the only one chair. He sighed, materializing another.
She quickly darted eyes toward him. He didn't even bother to dry himself, staring in front of him mindlessly. His robe was still wet from the rain and a little puddle already started to form under him.
"Is something amiss?" He blinked.
"Sometimes I haven't the foggiest about what I am doing," Emet-Selch whispered, "This place wasn't supposed to be mine. It is Hythlodaeus's. He sees things much better than I do."
"Oh, do you mean your place in the Convocation?" the Warrior asked with genuine interest.
"Yes."
"Don't you like your job?"
"It isn’t simply a "job"," he cringed his nose at her words, entwining his fingers, "It is a way of life. Your duties become your essence, and there is no going back. However, some careless decisions may bring about an unwelcome outcome… That can affect anyone. No wonder Hermes is hesitating."
"I thought you could resign." the Warrior took one leaf from the stem of ivy, focusing on it instead of the strange man next to her. The sleepiness had all but disappeared.
"I could, yes." Emet-Selch agreed and fell silent. She knew he desperately wanted to talk, but she had no idea why he chose her for it. He didn't trust her, he didn't like her and had pushed her as far away from him as possible. Or so she thought.
"Hythlodaeus told me that you're good at this job. And he doesn't regret his decision. I barely know you both," she paused, "Though… If you think that being a helping hand for anyone at any time is exhausting, I can understand you." He made an illegible sound.
"I'm surprised how easily you read me. You can't see my soul, you can't even exercise simple creation magics, and you have an amount of aether similar to a familiar at best."
"Yes, yes, I know I'm unworthy of your respect." She grumbled into her palm.
"I just said how surprisingly discerning you are," he huffed, "It was a compliment. Take it."
The Warrior suddenly squeezed the little leaf she was playing with in her fist, exhaling with force and clenching her eyes.
She wasn't… She didn't want to think about it, but…
She is looking up at the Ladder, and at the people working.
"This requires the conqueror to treat the conquered with dignity, and the conquered to let bygones be bygones."
”Yeah? Is that how Garlemald treated its territories?"
A frown.
"It was a compliment. Take it."
"My dear," the Warrior murmured coldly, "You think too much of your compliments."
Emet-Selch looked at her with raised eyebrows.
"Your dear? And again, how dare you."
"You've come here to talk," she held herself back, ready to snap. "We're talking."
"Did I say something that hurt you?" his gaze slipped down, to her hand, still squeezed in a fist. She let her fingers part, and the remnants of the leaf flew to the floor.
Then, she met his eyes, trying to show as much emotion as she could without words. His pupils were alien, star-shaped, and they ripped through her soul like saws.
After a minute of staring, she turned away, changing the subject.
"Anyway, why wouldn't you dry yourself? You're positively dripping."
Emet-Selch clearly forgot about it, so he raised his hand and snapped. The pond under him vanished, and the fog started to rise from his clothes.
"You hate me for some reason." He stated.
"No, Hades, I like you," she noticed again that blush of an embarrassment on his cheeks, "It's just that you remind me of my former enemy. But he's dead, and it doesn't matter anymore."
"An enemy?" Emet-Selch scoffed. "What kind of an enemy could leave you such a mark?"
She ripped another leaf of ivy from the bush. Her hands were sweating and she needed to get them busy.
How could she describe to Emet-Selch what kind of an enemy he was?..
"Let me tell you a tale," finally, the Warrior found words, "About one person. Will you listen?"
"Why not." He murmured.
She took a deep breath.
"It is a tale about a woman… who was named Hero. People called her that because she‘d managed to defeat monsters that nobody could slay before, and saved many lives in the process," rain started to calm down, and the rumbling of it was adding to her quiet voice, "Once upon a time, the Hero was called to save the other world from the inevitable doom. And there, she met with a powerful Demon, who was different from the others she had seen before. His own world was destroyed, and he craved to reincarnate it by killing everyone and everything that Hero held dear. But despite knowing it, she fell in love with him."
The Warrior paused, staring blindly into the night. Emet-Selch looked at her with great attention. Of course, she couldn't fool him with this tale — he understood that it was her story.
"The Demon pretended that he loved her too," she continued with a bitter expression. She wasn't able to hide it even after all her attempts to do so, "And she believed him. But he betrayed her, shot her friend, tried to murder her, and it ended up with him dead. The Hero saved the world from him, yes," she didn't notice she was biting her lips, "But, to be honest, all she wanted to save in that moment was hi-" Emet-Selch's palm laid on her arms, stopping her from scratching them and bleeding. The Warrior flinched, shaking off this distraction.
He didn't say anything and abruptly took his hand away, avoiding her gaze.
"...That was the enemy that left me such a mark." She finished, still feeling the trace of his touch.
They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Maybe more than a couple. The Warrior felt ashamed now, that she trusted young Emet-Selch so much she even confessed to him something she didn't confess to anyone before. However, maybe that was the very reason why she did it — soon she would leave, and they would never meet again like this.
"I have a tale of my own." He said suddenly.
"I'm all ears."
He chuckled and shook his head.
"This is ridiculous."
"No," she encouraged him with a smile, "I'm interested."
Sigh.
"Alright. My tale is about the…" he frowned. "The… let's call him an Architect. Well, when he was young, he loved to create whole little towns and even engineer new civilizations. The citizens were always docile; they obeyed their master without a word. But once…" the smirk appeared on his face, "One girl interrupted all this and created only one stubborn being that tried to mess up a slow and predictable life in the Architect's town. He didn't like it, of course, and fought with that girl for what she did. Somehow they became friends after this."
She smiled at the image of a boy-Emet-Selch trying to beat the crap out of a random girl. While she was thinking about this, he continued.
"Ages passed, and the Architect was hired for a responsible job. The girl he knew turned out to be his boss, and he… he was fond of her. It was hard to work like this, so he decided to propose to her. And she rejected him."
The Warrior quirked her brow, but he didn't finish yet.
"After that, she thought it would be funny to say she would accept his feelings if he would build the real town for her alone. He built it. It was a hard work that had stolen an entire age. And guess what?"
"She didn't accept his feelings?" She tried not to laugh.
"No, she did not," he said with a grave voice, "It wouldn't hurt so much if she wouldn’t seduce him a year later."
The Warrior was struggling. It was really hard not to laugh openly after hearing his "cool story" of deception.
"You poor thing…" she sobbed.
"And as if it wasn't enough, after all of that she still rejected him for the second time! She said he provided good entertainment! This cruel-"
Unable to hold it in, she bursted into laughter, hiding her face in her palm. Emet-Selch jumped up in resentment, ready to leave, his face almost red.
"Wait!" She grasped at his sleeve, still giggling, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
"I didn't anticipate this kind of reaction, it's insulting!" He hissed, but something told her that he wasn't truly offended. Just embarrassed, "And get your hands off me!"
"Alright, alright…"
She took a deep breath, calming down. Emet-Selch sat back down on his chair, ashamed. The rain fell quiet and ended, the sounds of local fantastic beasts filling the gap it had left.
"She didn't call him by his true name ever since that day." He finished with a low voice.
The Warrior stopped her chuckle.
"It's good I am not her," she glanced at him, "So I can call you that without a problem. Right?"
Emet-Selch didn't answer. She could see the tension in his pose and figure.
"Hades?"
"No," he looked at her through the white streaks of his hair, "You are not her. You are not her, and still you act like as if we've known each other for a long time. You are playing with me."
"I would never!" She raised her hands in a defensive gesture. His gaze told her that he didn't buy it, and she sighed, "I'm not playing. It's just… you're cute."
"Oh, stop it, not again!"
"I'm not lying!"
It started a chain of jokes and taunts she was tossing at him, and his snaps in response to it.
She wasn't the same as her.
He wasn't the same as him.
Tomorrow they would pretend that they haven't sat here in a warm understanding, and haven't heard the similar tale from one another. She would keep her mask of Hero, and the Architect would watch her from a distance with caution.
But that would be tomorrow. While it was still today, she could lean onto his shoulder, and close her eyes, remembering this moment. With the man next to her stiffening, and then relaxing, listening to her murmuring, as if she was trying not to forget the word that was important to her as much as it was to him.
"That woman… Would you still love her even after eons will pass?" She asked dizzily.
"Yes." This time, Emet-Selch didn't show any signs of embarrassment or hostility. His shoulder was warm where her body touched it, and he felt a familiar tingling sensation from the closeness of that soul.
The Hero of the Source hesitated before her next question.
"And… If you could meet me in different circumstances… "
"Stop whatever you're saying," he cut her off, but didn't push her away, "You're not-"
"What if I was the only thing that reminded you of her?"
Emet-Selch jolted and suddenly squeezed her hand, forcing her to turn and look at his face. She saw that he started to realize.
She gave him too many glimpses after all.
He wasn't answering.
"What if you'd lost her and, for the first time since she was gone, could only see her fractured soul? Since ages," there was a bitter aftertaste on her tongue, "Ages, and ages of loneliness?"
She swore she would not say anything. Nothing about the real reason behind her arrival. But she wasn't made of steel.
Emet-Selch lowered his head, emotions filling him in a furious wave.
"I would hate that soul for sure," he drawled slowly in response, "But I would never hurt it. Never."
She smiled and finally felt a tear running down to the corner of her lips. She promised that she would not cry no matter what happens, that even the threat of the Final Days couldn't break her. She was supposed to be the strongest.
All she wanted to save in that moment at the edge of the world was him. He tried to hurt her, oh, he even genuinely tried to kill her - which meant he didn't recognize her until the very end. This poor villain.
Blind, he was just blind.
The former shadow of the man sitting now in front of her, with a worried look on his face. He still was holding her firmly by the hand, and she hoped he would not let her go. Time stopped on this balcony, between them.
"I would not reject you." The Warrior murmured quietly, too quietly for him to hear.
I can be her replacement. You need, no, you needed only ask.
She didn't say that.
Emet-Selch squeezed his fingers on her hand harder, and leaned closer to kiss her. He tried doing it, at least, with his movements so contradictive that he couldn't aim perfectly and his lips hit her cheek instead. She turned to meet his kiss without thinking, heat rising in her chest uncontrollably. She didn't expect it. She didn't dare to hope he would accept her, but he did.
Though he was mostly dry now, his hair was still wet and smelled of water it had absorbed earlier. Nothing magical or alien, Emet-Selch was just a man lost in the moment. She could hear the tremble on the top in his sigh, which showed to her how much he was affected. She could feel his lips on hers, moving softly without any desire to retreat.
How did they end up in this situation?
She pushed him away slightly to look him in the eyes. He looked guilty for some reason, maybe thinking about the woman he confused with the Warrior of Light. But she also saw that expression there on his face, the one she always so craved to see.
"Now, I don't want your answers," Emet-Selch said huskily, suddenly attempting to stand up, "Keep your secrets, Hero, since they're utterly terrifying."
"You're leaving?" She straightened as well, "Is this too much?"
"Yes, it is."
"Wait!" the Warrior cupped his face with her palm, forcing him to hold her gaze, "Wait."
He obeyed, shoulders tensed, lips pressed in a line. Emet-Selch dropped his sight down to their shoes, frowning.
"I know it's complicated," she started, caressing his cheek, noticing the familiarity in the edges of his features. She had touched him this way before… the other him, "I can imagine how strange it must be for you. And though to each other we're only the reminders of our lovers, we could…"
"It's ruled out," Emet-Selch barked raggedly, shifting and stepping away from her and her gentle gesture, "You only made it worse. When this pain has finally dulled, you - you showed up! And then you're calling me, and you are, you -" he swallowed and stopped at the corner of the balcony, leaning heavily on the rails with his back," - Your voice is unbearable."
She chuckled softly, following him and pressing him further to the railing with the weight of her light body. Her hands wrapped around his waist, fingers playing with the folds of his robe. Emet-Selch seemed to lose his breath, stiffening and watching her with a hint of disbelief.
"Well now," the Warrior of Light purred, narrowing her eyes, "You weren't a good boy since the first time we met, Hades. I would say you were rather rough on me. Maybe it is time for you to beg for forgiveness?"
The shiver running through his figure made him shudder, and the ancient closed his eyes shut, allowing her to give him another kiss. She would kiss him as many times as she wanted, while it was still today.
And, if anything, it didn't matter that it was tomorrow already.