#birues

There has to be another way, Epione thought. Sweat made their raven bangs cling to their pale forehead as they pored over yet another old book on magicks. We cannot do this.

The rest of the Convocation was waiting for them, while chaos reigned outside. Abominations that no one had ever seen before or dreamed of had recently begun appearing. All Epione and their friends knew was that the beasts loved fear: one of their fellows would begin to panic at the sight of an abomination, and two more would spawn, seemingly out of thin aether.

Urania, Epione's advisor, gifted with the ability to read the stars and to interpret dreams, had told them that many of their fellow beings were being plagued by increasingly volatile, violent nightmares and feelings of panic and fear. "What's confusing," she'd explained to them, "is why. I cannot pinpoint what is influencing this."

That pissed Epione off. They felt like the answer was right in front of them, in their face, and yet like smoke, it couldn't be grasped. But what the Convocation had suggested as a "solution" was unthinkable. Sacrificing half our population...the very thought make them nauseous.

Venat wouldn't allow this, they continued to themself, dark purple eyes looking for answers they weren't confident existed. I cannot allow this. She raised me. 'S only right that I live up to her expectations.

The light patter of footsteps against tile swam into their thoughts. "Eunomia," they began, not looking up.

Eunomia was their eyes and ears, stealthy and brave, willing to sneak where the Fourteenth Seat could not.  “The Convocation is likely going to move to a vote without you, just so you’re aware.”

Epione gritted their teeth, dragging a nail back and forth over a corner of the page they were reading.  “I won’t let them—“

“I fear they’re getting restless and desperate, my friend,” Eunomia interrupted.  “You’ve seen what’s been happening as of late.”  Her pale yellow eyes began to shine as tears rushed to them.  “Hedone…”

“Did you have to—“  Epione choked back a sob.  They’d been training their enforcer to take over their role as Azem once their time was up, as Venat had trained them.  Hedone had been a silly, unserious young woman—but plucky, generous, and full of curiosity, things befitting the seat of Azem.  And just like that, she’d been one of the first victims of the monsters that had begun spawning due to mass panic and fear.  They could still hear her screams of agony as she was—

Everything has gone to shit.  Epione closed the book and rose.  Their hands reeked of sweat and old paper.  The old plan was useless now, they accepted, so much for returning to the star peacefully with Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus.  But maybe…

“I’m heading back to the meeting chamber,” they explained to Eunomia.  “I will send word once a decision has been made, one way or another.  If you should encounter Venat, please update her on what’s going on.”

“She likely knows,” Eunomia suggested.  “Maybe you’ll get lucky and meet her on the way there.”

“Your words to the stars.  Stay safe, old friend.”  Epione turned and teleported back to the meeting chamber, ready to stall their comrades’ disastrous choice.  They began to head for their seat—strange, it was empty now.  Where was—?

“Ah, there you are,” came an annoyed, concerned voice.  Emet-Selch emerged from behind his own seat.  “Where have you been?  You had me worried sick!”  He took them in his arms, a fair hand stroking their long, soft locks.

“I was looking for a better solution, my love,” Epione explained.  “We needn’t sacrifice our friends.  Or we shouldn’t, at least.  If you could just talk to the others—“

“You left,” he interrupted, dark yellow eyes looking even more stern than usual.  “We had to act as Thirteen.  The decision is made.”

Epione’s heart almost fell through the floor.  How?  How could this happen?  The Convocation lived to serve the star.  At worst, if anyone would sacrifice themselves, it should be them.  “What…what are you saying?”

“We will sacrifice half the population of the star to bring back those we’ve lost.  We’ve come up with a way to—oh, what is that look?”  Emet-Selch released them from his embrace, confused.

“Are you mad?  You wish to restore life by destroying life?  That is not our way, Emet-Selch.”

They were using his full name?  They were truly furious.  “Listen to me, dearest—we’ve come up with something that has promised to take us back to the way things were—“

“There is no way of doing that, Emet-Selch.  The week before this madness was not the same as the week before it, nor has any day been the same as its predecessors.  We have to stop this.”  Epione paused.  “We will, won’t we?”

Emet-Selch’s face darkened.  “Mayhap you’re the one that’s mad.  I voted along with the others—we’re going through with this, and that’s final.  Think of it,” he encouraged, taking their hands in his, “this suffering will end, and we can live out our final days together until it’s actually time for us to return to the star.  Trust me.”  He kissed their hands.  “Please, trust me.”

Epione shook out of his grasp, their heart racing.  “I can’t believe this.  Who are you?  Where is the one I love?”

“I am here, you stubborn fool, if you’d only—“

“I’ve lost Hedone already.  You would sacrifice yourself to this…whatever plan you and the rest have concocted?  Who…who are you?”

“Should my own sacrifice be necessary, rest assured I am prepared.  But Hythlodaeus and I have spoken, and he decided that—“

“No!”  Epione thought they’d be sick.  “No, no, no, this is all wrong.  I refuse to support this.”

“As a member of the Convocation—“

“Fuck the fucking Convocation!” Epione howled.  “Fuck them, if they wish to betray the star in such a way.  I refuse to follow this rubbish.  I abdicate my seat as Azem, as a show of civil disobedience.”

A look came over Emet-Selch that was foreign, and terrifying.  “Azem—Epione, do not do this.  You cannot turn your back on us like this.”

“I cannot?  You’ve already turned your back on me, Emet-Selch.  You are not the man I thought I knew.  If I—“ the words caught in their throat, their fists clenched.  “If I have to break your heart to do what’s right, then so be it.  I am taking my leave.”

“And how long were you gone, searching for an answer that does not exist?” snapped Emet-Selch.  “You are a fool, and you will come with the rest of us.”

Epione stopped, hand ready to grab their cane.  The cane…an anniversary gift from Emet-Selch.  Hot, angry tears threatened to spill from their eyes.  “No.  Let me go.”

“If you will not work with us, then you have turned against us.”  His tone was furious, lost, confused, wounded.

“If this is what the Convocation does without me, I was never one of your number.  Goodbye, Emet-Selch.”  They began to leave, but—

Epione knew the sound of a spell starting up.  Immediately, they drew their cane and spun around to face their lover again.  They began to cast something but—

They stumbled.

Emet-Selch’s face turned ghostly, and his heart thudded in his chest.  His partner, the only person besides Hythlodaeus who understood him, tolerated him, loved him, was on the floor, aimlessly clutching the hole in their torso, wincing in agony.  No, no, no…  He ran to their side, gently lifting them, trying not to make the wound worse.  He’d done this.  It was his fault.

“Emet-Selch…”

“Epione…please…stay with me…”  He knew his words were useless.

“You…who sought to punish me for perceived…defiance…”  Their breaths were getting ragged.  “I thought you loved me…”

“I always have—“

“No.”  Epione gritted their teeth, forcing themself to stay alert a bit longer.  “You…you will never know peace for this.  You…will wander the star…with a wound in your heart and soul the size of the one in my body…ugh…until I come back…for my vengeance.  I…I swear it, Emet-Selch.  You will be haunted…till the day I…”  They drew their last, the light going out in their once sparkling eyes.

The thing with being a member of one of the great houses was that you lacked the ability to move in stealth. Now Oviine had to quickly come up with an excuse as to why she was here. The astrologians--Ishgard's own, not that riffraff from Sharlayan, of course--needed her to continue her studies. She had been careful to leave her rosaries and anything that might flag her as a heretic with Ysayle and her followers. No one could find out that Oviine was scouting for recruits, as well as trying to find out more about this "Warrior of Light" that had come to her hometown.

Unfortunately, her former wet nurse still worked for House Dzemael, and Oviine’s cousin Grinnaux had caught wind of her return. Now Oviine stood with a letter in his writing, saying to meet with him. Surely you remember where the manor is, it read.

Oviine arrived shortly after Grinnaux had, dressed in a warm, ankle length wool dress. He was in the shiny white armor of the Heavens Ward. "Grinnaux!" She gave him a warm, toothy smile. "My, you've grown even taller than I've expected. Uncle must be--"

"Why are you here?"

"...you didn't hear? The astrologers find me to be a worthy--"

"You're shit at lying." His lavender eyes studied her, judged her harshly.

Oviine exhaled softly. "I assure you, whatever you think it is--" And pray, do not think it's anything to do with Ysayle. I can't bear the thought of putting her in danger, even by association.

"You're cavorting with that foreigner and her entourage, aren't you?"

...what? "Grinnaux, I haven't even met her yet. All I know is that she's a Viera with black and green hair and substantial...endowments."

Oviine was confused. Grinnaux had always dreamed of being a knight. She remembered how they played Knights and Dragons as children. But now he was spewing nonsense and paranoia. Surely, Thordan wouldn't suffer this...

"I'm so sorry, Oviine," Grinnaux began, "but I'm afraid I must bring you to my brothers for questioning."

"For what purpose? Our laws state--"

"We must see to it that you are not a threat to Ishgard."

"I'm a part of this city, as much as you are!"

"You've been gone for 25 years! You're as much a foreigner as the Warrior of Light." For a second, his face softened. He was once again the rowdy little boy that had been her favorite cousin. "You're foreign to me."

Oviine fought back tears, her fists balled. "I would say 'I don't know what's wrong with you', but I do. And that's the problem. You're so deep into your role of Knight of the Heavens Ward that you'd turn your back on family, just to appease the Archbishop and your brothers."

"You forgot that we serve the Fury first."

"But Halone does not smite when it is not just in Her eyes." It made sense to her now. "You've brought me here to arrest me, haven't you?"

"I admit it. An easy ploy, too. You trust too easily."

"Then arrest me, and show His Worship and your brothers how you lied to you cousin to look like a good little Halonic man."

Grinnaux was trapped now. If he erred on the side of caution, and was right, one heretic might fall--but so would his house's reputation. But if he was wrong, then Oviine was clever enough with words to turn many in their family against him, along with many in Ishgard. He'd look a fool. If she was with the Warrior of Light, a woman that had killed false gods, she was still a threat to Ishgard. That was his role in the Heavens Ward, correct? To safeguard the faithful and the Archbishop, right?

He looked up, and realized that Oviine had run out of patience for him and left. He kicked the snow, almost slipping on ice underneath.