#wolshipping

Wyra let out a heavy sigh as she sunk to the ground. Her back was pressed against a massive tree, the sun-soaked bark warming her skin pleasantly through the thin fabric of her robe.

While she generally preferred clothing that was less bulky in appearance, she had to admit that the ancients had found a way to make their staple fashion items comfortable. The robes, pants, and shoes seemed to be made of the highest-quality leather she had ever seen, resistant to staining and tough enough to prevent tearing – and yet they were somehow still lightweight and breathable. 

As her thoughts began to meander, she mused how strange it was that, sitting under a blue-leafed tree on a floating island thousands of years in the past, it would be the magicks of the ancients’ clothing she found herself pondering. If she was honest to herself, she wasn't sure if she really wanted to think about the other things too hard. Having too much time to ponder the marvels of Elpis was likely to either leave her sad at the place's future destruction, or otherwise with a headache from trying to understand creation magicks beyond her ken.

Elpis itself was a wonder. While the facility had zones which put creations to the test in arid or frozen environments, Wyra had yet to see anything beyond beautiful, temperate weather in the greater sections. It was always akin to the nicest day of spring, with a cool breeze that wasn't too cold but also didn't allow those working there to overheat. Despite days spent fighting off various beastly creations and chasing around a bird girl who was a master of hide and seek, Wyra had never felt as though she needed to take a breather just to cool down. 

That said, mental exhaustion as well as physical aches were enough to make her want to take the opportunity at hand to rest for a moment.

Wyra had come to Elpis this time to check in on Themis and Erichthonios to see how work towards restoring Pandaemonium had progressed, as well as to see if she could learn anything more about the beasts which awaited them in lower levels.

Pandemonium was… less pleasant than Elpis, if still a magical marvel. The air had been stagnant there, as though it, too, were fixed in stasis, alongside its many imprisoned creations. The temperature was generally uncomfortable, ranging from cold and damp when she fought the hippokampos to miserably hot when she faced the phoinix. Things had improved slightly on the first layer after her defeat of Hesperos, but the knowledge that the other levels were in equal disarray made her dread their inevitable descent. Wyra knew getting to the root of the issue was necessary to protect the ancient and future star, but it didn’t mean she had to enjoy fulfilling her duty every time.

Before checking in with Themis and Erichthonios in Pandaemonium itself, she had decided to journey to the buildings that the researchers lived and worked out of to see if she could locate any material about Pandaemonium herself. Luck was on her side, it seemed, as she shortly located someone who said that she believed she had some logs on the subject. Unfortunately, though, the researcher was in the middle of something or another involving a stack of paperwork which didn’t require the help of a “familiar,” as most people assumed Wyra was. She didn’t blame them, as her miqo’te features and comparatively thin aether were inconvenient to hide in a world where the mandatory dress code didn’t allow for hats and the individuals she worked with were particularly gifted in recognizing aetheric density. It was actually rather fortuitous that things aligned in a way that Wyra could claim to be Azem’s familiar – Azem was apparently eccentric enough that this explanation was plenty to buy Wyra leeway to make social faux pas in a world so different from hers in the future.

In this case, though, her deception had left her lowest on the researcher’s list of priorities. The woman had waved her off, telling her to return in an hour or so. 

With no one else around looking like they needed help, for once, Wyra decided to summon her mount to carry her to one of the smaller floating islands nearby so that she could escape the other researchers’ curious gazes for a time.

She was used to being stared at – while being a miqo’te wasn’t hugely unusual in the modern era, she had done enough to become fairly famous in the news and tabloids, and she had a fairly distinctive style of dress that lent itself to being recognized. While most people tended to give her space if they recognized her as the Warrior of Light, she still struggled to deal with the constant feeling of being watched when in a crowd. Being stared at by researchers was quite worse, particularly researchers from an extinct world thousands of years in the past. She didn’t think they would raise a hand to the familiar of a member of their precious Convocation, but she could do without the constant stream of questions about how her aether looked about to fade away. She also wasn’t partial to the patronizing tone many took when speaking to her, though it was better than the demanding voice others used.

Ultimately, Wyra found herself sitting in the wildflowers under the blue tree, staring sleepily into the glittering sky. Other floating islands were scattered amongst the idyllic cloudscape, but they were distant enough she was certain that she was safely out of view of anyone else. With a last glance about, Wyra muffled a yawn with the back of her hand and then pulled her robe’s hood over her eyes. The thin fabric somehow blocked out light entirely, and she closed her eyes appreciatively.

Just for a few minutes. Then I’ll go back and check on those documents, then head down to see Themis and Erich.

Wyra’s eyes felt as though they’d been closed for just seconds before she was startled awake by the feeling of someone plopping down next to her.

“When I told you to take your time to rest for a while before returning to us, I did expect you to do it indoors… not that there is anything wrong with doing it here, I guess.” 

Wyra bolted upright in an instant, scrambling to push her hood from her eyes.

Themis sat beside her with his back against the same tree, eyebrow raised and a small grin playing at the corner of his mouth. 

"I think this island is being used exclusively to research some new flower concepts, so it is about as safe a place for a midday nap as any."

Wyra looked away sheepishly, her cheeks tinged red. “I was… designed to be crepuscular,” she explained, borrowing a term she had heard used by the scholars in Labyrinthos.

Perhaps it was due to her nature as the child of a Moon Keeper mother and Sun Seeker father, but she always tended to find herself most awake at dusk and dawn and then struggling to focus at midday and midnight. Her eyes, too, struggled with pure darkness or harsh light. With most other people she worked with keeping a day schedule, Wyra tended to try to do most of her work early in the morning and then after a quick midday nap. Most of the scions had noticed, and had long since stopped inviting her to lunch, which she appreciated. Amongst world-ending events like those of the present, though, she had found herself working through her tiredness more often than not.

It seemed like today she would have to, as well.

Themis tilted his head thoughtfully. “You are a fascinating falling star, indeed.” He smiled at the quirk in Wyra’s mouth before motioning to the book sitting to his side.

“Actually, it seems like we had the same idea. I went to speak to some of the researchers to see if I could find more about what other creatures might exist in Pandaemonium, only for one woman to say a violet-haired feline familiar had requested this but a bell earlier and not yet come to claim it.” 

“Ugh, I must have actually fallen asleep, then…” Wyra buried her face in her hands, her tail wrapping around her tensely. While she could usually wake up quickly from her naps on her own, her pure exhaustion coupled with the comfortable temperature and darkness of the robe’s hood must have prevented her from sensing the change in time. Now she could clearly see that the sun had shifted its position above by at least a half-hour, and she had little hope she would have awoken anytime soon had Themis not disturbed her.

Themis chuckled quietly and put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. “Fear not, my friend. She had only just finished the assignment that she had been working on when I arrived.” The tension in Wyra’s shoulders and tail eased slightly as he continued. “And in any case, it is good that you are actually resting. If what I skimmed in this thus far is any indication, you shall need to be at your fighting best to defeat what awaits us.” 

Wyra glanced and saw that his teasing smile had turned to a gentle frown. She sat up straight again, stretching her spine and wincing before sighing.

She really hadn’t spent much time resting, in all actuality. Shortly after their last adventures in Elpis, she ended up traveling to the Void, meeting – and fighting – several members of the Twelve, and had spent some time training with her new friend Zero to improve her melee combat skills. Any free moment she had lately, she spent helping people in Thavnair or Garlemald, studying with Y’shtola, or helping Krile and G’raha do further research on the Twelve. She had most recently returned to Old Sharlayan after visiting Alphinaud and Alisaie, only to be immediately flagged down by Claudien’s assistant researchers of the Aetherial Sea. They had made some progress with the memory stone, apparently, but nothing worth showing her. Still, she thought it would be a good time to check in on the past, since there was nothing immediately requiring her attention elsewhere for the moment.

“Well, I’m glad that I didn’t leave her waiting too long, in any case.” Wyra smiled at Themis, trying to shake off her residual embarrassment at being caught asleep. “And I guess I am glad it was you who found me here as opposed to a frightening creation.” She frowned. “How did you know where to find me?” 

Themis raised an eyebrow slightly. “By sensing your aether, of course. I may not be as skilled as the honorable Emet-Selch with soul sight, but I do recognize Azem’s aether well enough. I sensed that I would find her or you here, and either would be a pleasant surprise.” 

Wyra fought to keep her ears from lowering at the mention of Azem. While the reason she was so similar to Azem was obvious to her, it was still uncomfortable to be reminded that something so uniquely hers as an aetheric signature belonged to someone else first. It also reminded her that Themis, too, likely believed that she was just Azem’s familiar – a creation to be judged, or one to be told to do the work none of the ancients wanted to do. Not that she didn’t always do the latter, regardless. It made her feel similar to how she had felt when talking to the Ascians – belittled, patronized, dehumanized, viewed as lesser. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her when she knew that Themis was the same man as the Elidibus of her future. Still, he and Erichthonios had been some of the only ancients to treat her as though she were a real person, so it was an annoying reminder that they probably didn’t believe it.

Themis’s expression was unreadable as he turned back to the book he had brought. 

“I will admit, I had hoped you would return soon. I was beginning to worry that Erichthonios and I would need to proceed alone once we finally unraveled the wards on the gate to Abyssos.” His warm smile had returned, and Wyra tried to shrug off her internal turmoil. 

“Do forgive my extended absence, other duties have kept me away. Full glad am I that it doesn’t seem I missed anything of grave importance,” she said, eyeing the book herself. It was a handwritten journal, and the page Themis had opened to had an illustration of the hippokampos she had already fought. She grimaced. That had most certainly not been her favorite fight. She could still bring to mind the nauseating smell of the filthy water that had been continually sprayed and splashed onto her before the creature was defeated.

Seeing her interest, Themis shifted himself closer, moving the journal to rest between them on his thigh. “I suppose you had sought this reading material before I did. It is only fair that I share.” 

Still somewhat dazed by his initial proximity when she awoke, Wyra’s cheeks flushed slightly. Her tail rested on the grass between them, and she resisted the urge to tighten it against her own body to avoid touching his leg. 

Would that I ever knew I would be within arm’s reach of Elidibus himself under friendly circumstances. 

 Wyra wasn’t particularly abhorrent to the idea of being in close proximity with others, regularly sitting this close to or even hugging the other scions after they became close friends. Themis, though, was still essentially a stranger – despite whatever the feeling in her stomach said. If they really had only known each other through shared duty for a few months, like her head argued, she had no reason to feel so comfortable around him. She had grown to trust him organically to a degree – clearly her prior incarnation had been especially close to him, and Azem’s friends in the time of Elpis had so far not led her wrong. In fact, her own track record was less pristine, if you considered her fondness toward Meteion and Hermes. If Themis had wanted to do her harm, there had been plenty of opportunity while they fought their way through Asphodelos. The way he had talked to Erichthonios when the warder had been freed from his frenzy also demonstrated his friendliness and genuine dedication to the duty of protecting the star. Not that she had ever doubted the latter – the future Elidibus was nothing if not loyal to his perceived duty. It was fortunate indeed that they found themselves on the same side of that duty this time.

Unaware of her internal musings, Themis looked to her expectantly, lifting the edge of the page.

Wyra blinked, then nodded. She hadn’t read a word of it, but was sure that whatever he had would be enough to help them if there was anything of value. Judging by his expression, there wasn’t anything overly revealing on page one.

Themis turned to the next page, and Wyra bit her lip apprehensively. She really couldn’t read the researcher’s excited scrawl from that angle. Despite napping for longer than she had intended, her eyes were still dry and her mind slightly fogged. Curse this beautiful place. She breathed out quietly and blinked a few more times, only improving things slightly. It didn’t help that the side her companion had joined her from was the same side as her damaged eye. While her vision had improved enough over the years that she could once again wield a bow with practiced accuracy, it did struggle when she was already strained and at a weird angle.

Pushing the awkwardness from her mind, she broke the silence.

“I have to readjust, sorry…” Themis nodded confusedly and leaned away with his book, watching as Wyra leaned forward, shifting her tail behind her to rest alongside her other leg. A hint of understanding and mild amusement crossed his face as she settled back down a few inches closer and busied herself by smoothing her tail. He placidly shifted himself to make up the remaining few inches of distance, lowering the book back down to their laps once their hips and shoulders were touching. 

Wyra’s face felt like it was on fire, but it was admittedly much easier to read the inelegant handwriting within the journal this way. Fortunately, it seemed that Themis was busy actually reading, or else graciously didn’t choose that opportunity to tease her. 

Shifting her focus to said journal, Wyra skimmed quickly to ensure that he wasn’t left waiting. The journal was clearly written by a researcher of high authority in Elpis who oversaw water-based creations such as the hippokampos. This particular entry discussed the decision they had made to send the beast to Pandaemonium after it had flooded an entire research facility. It went on to discuss the process required to have a creation interred within Pandaemonium, which seemed to amount to unending stacks of paperwork.

As Themis flipped through the pages at an easy pace, Wyra found her eyes blinking slower than usual; more than once, she hadn’t actually absorbed anything from the second half of the page before her companion lifted the corner and paused quizzically. The warmth she could feel from his arm and leg against hers, even through their robes, had shifted from unnerving to comforting, and the sleepiness that had caused her to nod off before had returned. I really must have overdone it, lately, she mused.

A low half-chuckle escaped Themis’s breath, and she distantly wondered if what she was supposed to be reading had been humorous. She couldn’t really remember the latest section.

“You know, this is how Azem and I spent many an evening when she joined the convocation. We were both quite young at the time, and I believe Mistress Venat surprised her when she decided to vacate the seat of Azem.”

Wyra’s ears perked up a bit, and she tilted her head to peer at Themis’s expression. He was still staring at the book, and turned the page. She guiltily noted that he didn’t bother to ask her if she had finished it yet this time. She looked at the next page, seeing the illustration of a monstrous beast with shark-like teeth and a serrated fin that the author had noted as “knife-like.” 

“Azem spent day and night for weeks after Venat’s announcement, studying the Convocation’s guidelines and rules, to ensure that she knew them forwards and backwards. Not that she follows them strictly, mind you,” he chuckled again. “No, when prompted, she says that she learned them so that she could memorize the loopholes, or at least would know what to expect when she broke them.” He smiled fondly at the page. “And that, she does, without hesitation or remorse. Arguably, things often turn out better that way in most situations. She has quite the refreshing perspective.”

Wyra mustered an affirmative “hmm” as Themis turned another page. The words were scrawled almost illegibly as the author was describing yet another iteration of monster-shark with great excitement. Her companion’s low voice and warmth were enough to cause her mind to drift further.

“We both have duties that keep us apart the majority of the time, but she is always sure to send me letters of her adventures, and I keep her up-to-date with the decisions made in the meetings she misses.” 

He paused thoughtfully, glancing at the miqo’te girl who was now leaning more of her weight against his shoulder than before. His eyes narrowed mirthfully as he saw her eyes half-lidded and her ears drooping backwards. Her tail, which had been rigid against her side after she repositioned, curled across her lap like a blanket. Long strands of violet hair fell over her shoulders messily, having been disturbed from their usual waves by the hood she had worn when he first found her. The gentle breeze had caused some to blow across her cheek and his shoulder, but she didn’t seem to care, or maybe she wasn’t aware. He couldn’t help but notice that it was not only violet in color, but also smelled lightly of the flower. 

“Azem does always say that knowing when to rest is a great boon, for one who travels and relies upon her own body for so much. Working oneself to exhaustion is not like to win more fights cleanly than if one took an extra few bells before jumping into duty.”

Wyra didn’t respond, but her head slumped forward slightly. Asleep again. 

Themis laughed quietly and brushed the hair that had fallen into her face back lightly, his finger touching the scar across her cheek. Where had she earned it, he wondered, and why had it healed with such a mark, when she was so skilled with magic? Clearly she had faced many a foe before coming to Elpis, but she had offered no story other than the bold lie that she was Azem’s familiar. Knowing that to be false instantly thanks to a prior discussion with Azem herself, Themis still avoided asking for fear that Wyra would recoil. Azem had been entertained endlessly by the stories of her “familiar” running about in Elpis with Hythlodaeus, Emet-Selch, and Venat, and made no move to correct anyone. If she claims to be mine and is helpful, then whyever would I mind? She had responded when Themis thought to ask. All the better that she caused any annoyance to Emet.

In his limited time with Wyra thus far, he couldn’t help but agree. While Wyra was quite different than Azem in some ways – she was quieter and less confident, for one, and had a tail, for another – it was clear they must be related. Maybe she’s my great-great grandchild!! Azem had been particularly tickled by that idea, though Themis had doubts. Azem having children was something Themis placed particularly low on his list of predictions for the future. He couldn’t imagine her slowing down long enough to raise one, though he had been wrong about her capabilities in the past. He had begun to wonder who the father would be before cutting his line of thought abruptly.

No, Themis thought, it was far more likely that Wyra was a reincarnation of Azem, in some shape. Now that he was close enough to look at her clearly, his soul sight made it obvious that, despite lacking a fair portion of it, Wyra’s intrinsic aether was purely Azem’s, with no one else’s tinging the color to suggest Wyra was her traditional descendant.

What would change the world so severely that his dear friend would be reborn with furry ears, he wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

He also hadn’t the faintest idea why she would appear then in Elpis, though she had yielded the fact that she was aware of Pandaemonium and had a memory crystal warning of danger surrounding the place. Perhaps she, too, held a role that led her to travel and solve problems for others. Why should this travel be restricted to space and not time?

Wyra sighed in her sleep, leaning further onto him so that his arm was effectively pinned. Holding his own breath, Themis pulled his shoulder back slightly, unsurprised when the girl’s weight shifted and she slumped forward harder at what looked to be an uncomfortable angle. Putting the journal to the side, he braced his free hand against her shoulder gently as he pulled his trapped arm fully free. 

“Mhhm…” she mumbled, rolling slightly on her hip towards him. Her tail twitched slightly. Frozen momentarily, he then gently lowered the arm holding her shoulders up, and she responded by curling up with her head in his lap. Her tail promptly curled across her and his legs. 

Not what he had intended, but perhaps not the worst thing that could happen, he mused. She quieted in her sleep again, clearly needing the rest, and the only sound left was of her slow breathing and that of the wind through the azure branches above.

Themis smiled. For how long had he wished to do something like this with Azem again? To spend time alone, and relax.

Their duties would never allow it, of course; he was as committed to his as she, hers, and hers required her to travel the star for months at a time while his required him to stay in Amaurot almost always, present circumstances aside. She often would reappear in the city for one day, invite him to help her on an adventure, and they would spend the time inseparable. Then, she would be gone the next day. Her melodious voice would be traded for a scribbly script on letters delivered by one of her flying creations.

He didn’t mind this format of relationship, though he would have liked to go with her more often, if he had the option. Their care for one another was unspoken, but he trusted in it fully. He did find himself alone far more nights than he spent with her, but it gave him more time to focus on his duties as Elidibus and helped him to try to think impartially when Azem herself drew the Convocation's ire. Still, on some of those nights, he found himself daydreaming of how things would be when they both had completed their callings, and could be free from obligation. He fantasized of the possibility of them both returning to the star together, someday in the infinitesimally distant future, so that they could rest in the underworld together before beginning a new adventure in the next life.

Such youthful, romantic fantasies were not for the Emissary at present, though; unbeholden to anyone regarding personal matters, Azem never bothered to deny anyone who assumed they were a couple, but neither did she claim him as more than her dearest friend, nor ask that he not court another. In fact, she had nearly encouraged it herself through her letters to him, poorly illustrating disgustingly cute or even teasingly obscene scenes of him with other people she had befriended through her travels. He was bemused by these letters, of course; he had perhaps less free time than she due to his role on the Convocation, and never yet had interest in another. He was committed to his duty over all else. He did wonder at times, though, if she acted so because she was equally duty-bound, if she had foreseen him with another, or if it was that she truly did value freedom over any kind of binding.

He hesitated a moment before brushing his fingers gently across Wyra’s forehead and ear, moving another loose strand of hair that the wind had dislodged. He reveled in the fact that he had at least been able to quench the curiosity he harbored concerning the softness of her fur. 

She sighed lightly at his touch and nuzzled closer, her fingers loosely gripping the fabric of his robe. His hand stroked her hair more confidently this time, and he had to suppress a laugh when he felt a gentle vibration from her weight on his lap. Purring.

Wyra may indeed be somehow related to Azem, he thought, but he doubted that he would ever see the latter bind him in such a way as to make him feel guilty at the very thought of moving. 

Themis’s eyes widened suddenly as a thought crossed his mind. Maybe that is why she would incarnate as a cat…

“What a strange guiding star you are,” he whispered, to no reaction. His left hand continued to pet her as he grabbed the journal up again with his right. “Well, then, I guess this is what we shall do until I glean from the book whatever it may have to offer.”

__

Wyra’s consciousness returned slowly as the sun began to set. The warm, golden light shone under the tree’s branches onto her face, causing her to stir, and she moved an arm to cover her eyes. Her tail stretched behind her as she tensed her spine, her fingers gripping the fabric in her hands tighter as the stretch reached all the way up to her ears. 

“Ah, good evening, my friend…”

Wyra’s body flew backwards with enough force that it startled the book out of Themis’s hand. His other hand was still in the air above where it had rested on her head. His robe was wrinkled where her fingers had gripped it, though she was certain the marks would disappear instantly once he stood. 

Her face turned as red as a tomato before she ducked it apologetically, and her bushy tail lashed behind her.

“I’m so, so, so sorry!!” Her carefully glamoured fingernails dug desperately into the dirt as she bowed forward on her knees. “That was horrendously rude of me and I promise it will never happen again!!”

Themis smiled diplomatically and shook his head. “Worry not, my friend. I believe you may have already been asleep at that point, but I did tell you that you should get some rest before we descend. I cannot say I expected to be your pillow, but it was not a negative experience.” 

Wyra’s blush continued to burn, but she rose back up to her knees and then sat back, her arms placed rigidly in her lap. She struggled with a response before settling on one she thought would be most appropriate. 

“Ah, well, thank you, then. I do feel quite a lot better…”

She cleared her throat nervously before motioning to the book, which was still where it had landed when Wyra startled awake. “As you might imagine, I think I missed… all of… the journal,” she grimaced, the fading pink of her blush intensifying again momentarily. “Was there aught of value within?” 

Themis frowned for a moment before nodding. “Ah, yes, but only in how some of the spells to capture them were cast. It should improve my rate of success in interring those creations you run into going forward. It was certainly worth the time it took to read it, and I only just finished before you woke up,” he lied cheerfully.

In my house, we have a rule that if anyone asks you to do something, but there is a cat on your lap, you are allowed to claim "cat exemption" and be free from whatever is asked.