I had a feeling that I was going to hit a roadblock attempting to acquire the Mythril Eye, and I was even somewhat prepared for it, but I didn't think it'd be something like this. Rather than a roadblock, wasn't this an impenetrable wall?
"Miss Dewlala... owns the Mythril Eye?"
"Not directly sir, the Mythril Eye is considered the subsidiary of a subsidiary. All fall under the Order of Nald'Thal's thumb."
I pinched the bridge of my nose in an attempt to stay calm. That was a name that I wasn't keen on hearing at this point. Dewlala Dewla was a member of the Syndicate. I couldn't just go around, recklessly digging into her properties without eyes being put on me.
All this time, I had been barely sliding under the radar. I didn't have any direct ties to the seats of power within Ul'dah, not like I did in Gridania. Every action and connection I made in Ul'dah, was measured against their ties to the Syndicate.
Rose and Mumuepo were venerated guild leaders, the riskiest kinds connections I had, but neither had a seat nor direct interests with the Syndicate as far as I knew. If they were fine, then I boldly hypothesized that everyone else below them in stature was fair game. Though, I didn't forget how easily Mumuepo was overturned when the time came for the sultanate to crack down. They obviously loomed over the guild leaders in the hierarchy of power, despite those masters being the backbone of Ul'dah's tangible might. Thancred was well versed in the Syndicate and how they liked to operate, so I expected that he knew better than I did. I'd have to ask him more about it at another time.
Dewlala wasn't necessarily hostile, as she belonged to a neutral faction within the Syndicate, but everyone kept an eye on everyone else in that circle of power. They were each other's rivals, friends and occasionally lovers, all at the same time. With no geopolitical walls to divide them, and coffers that they always sought to keep full, if I so much as sneezed next to Dewlala, they'd all hear about it within a day.
"I understand. You can drop the investigation for now. I have no need for more."
"Sir."
"Ah, before you go, did you find anything about that Daemon Company that I had mentioned before?"
The Lalafell dug into his tunic and pulled out a folder. After flicking his deft fingers through the pages, he pulled out one piece that seemed to catch his interest.
"Nothing yet sir. Though there seems to be the occasional inquiry floating about, no one can get a handle on any details other than the name."
"I see, that's unfortunate... Please keep an eye out for me. And tell Teddy that I've reached the next Alchemist Grade. If he needs anything, just refresh my request board."
"Humu, as you wish."
I waved the Horn and Hand agent away. There was a reason why I didn't want them digging into the Syndicate. Those potato-sized bastards had seriously good information networks that the Horn and Hand simply couldn't compete with.
I was almost positive that I was on their radar, but I either wasn't worth moving against or I had too many ties that made me too complicated to keep in check. Any rising star in Ul'dah got their light snuffed out for shining too bright, and my unusual existence was definitely a star worth snuffing. Or at least I thought so.
I would snuff me in a heartbeat.
The agent gave a salute that I recognized to be from the Immortal Flames, a fist over his chest, then strutted off. Perhaps he was a veteran from the first Eorzean Alliance?
Left to my own devices once more, I was stuck in between trying harder and moving on. The Syndicate were directly responsible for the series of events that almost destroyed the Scions and began Heavensward. I truly wasn't interested in tangling with them even a little bit. Their schemes and machinations ran far deeper than I could perceive. I couldn't just Dynamis my way out of their web of lies and deceit.
But at the same time, I still wanted control over the Mythril Eye. Did I have to wait for the Calamity to take it? Would I need to rebuild it from scratch? Was trying to control the information economy in Ul'dah a foolish goal to begin with?
I wasn't concerned about my actions in Limsa Lominsa as they were too light. A no-name paper traded hands when no one was looking and no one gave a damn. Years later, when I planned to start spinning my web, who would think to ask the previous owner of the Harbor Herald if he knew the owner? Who was Malik Aubrey? Would anyone even believe him?
If I was a colder man, I'd kill Malik to ensure his silence, but I wasn't. It was already stressful picking someone to die in Minfilia's place. Malik had done nothing explicitly wrong. I couldn't bring myself to go around killing innocents. However, time bombs like the woman that sat within Haukke Manor... well, I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.
'...I don't think I can do it.'
There weren't many times in this life where I had to lose and pick myself back up, but this was undoubtedly one of those times. Ul'dah was too much for me to take a bite out of. The risks far outweighed the benefits and I wasn't that brash nor foolish. Until the Protagonist was willing to take the spotlight and whatever random accolades I'd slap onto their back, Ul'dah would have to remain as a lesser priority, and outside of my scope.
I wasn't too upset about it. The Harbor Herald and the Raven were enough for me.
I wasn't coping at all.
---
"Thaaaannnyyyy Craaaannnyyyy~"
Death had come knocking upon his door once again this year. Thancred's heart slowed and his hair stood on end. A chill entered from the top of his head and froze his blood. Instincts honed across many bouts of life or death combat screamed towards the heavens above.
Knock... Knock... Knock
Quite literally. It threatened to bring him low and drown him in red. If he opened that door, he would cease to live. Everything he had grown to love about life, it would all be a taken away from him as his soul was claimed by Nald'Thal.
"Ho-ho-ho..."
He wanted to run, but he would be caught eventually. He wanted to hide, but the creature outside of his door was willing to break in. He would be found, as the room lacked in good hiding places and was too barren of furniture. Even if he used his fingers, scraping against the sandstone walls, rending his flesh down to the bones trying to dig out, he still wouldn't be able to escape his fate.
"Come on out... Or I'll have to come in...!"
"Ugggghhhhh-HELLS BELLS!!"
The gloom disappeared like a bad dream. Thancred had all the intention in the world to sleep through this years Starlight Celebration. He and one of his women had a severe falling out, something about Thancred not taking their relationship seriously enough.
For Thancred, the entire premise was illogical. The love was the chase, the heartbreak and then the poem he'd write for them to come back together. They were still young, and yet she had wanted even more from him.
She wanted him to leave the other women or bring them all under one roof. Thancred enjoyed having multiple women. As for the latter suggestion of bringing them under one roof, that wasn't likely to happen either. His women would surely begin to fight and nag each other over this and that. One would get a gift and another would get upset about the better treatment. It sounded tiring. Wasn't everything already fine enough? Why do more?
She wanted him to spend more time with her and less time drinking and whoring. Drinking was part of his work, so that likewise wasn't going to happen. The whoring wasn't even something he did unless prompted by the people with whom he indulged. He had women outside of whore houses. Why would he willingly walk into one?
All this made the bard somewhat dissatisfied, but he held his tongue as a gentleman should. It helped no one to lash out and cause a bigger scene.
Things quickly turned sour when he saw her walking down Sapphire Avenue Exchange with another man. A skinny looking lout who just went along with whatever she wanted. If she pointed at something, he bought it. Poor sack of shite. Her actions obviously signified an end to what they shared together.
After he was done wallowing in his misery, Thancred had planned on writing a fantastic ballad that would steal her back right out from under her new lover's nose. But this process always took time. He had rushed it before, in a similar situation to this one in fact, and felt quite sick afterwards. In addition, he only stayed with that woman for an extra two weeks or so before they drifted apart once more.
But first he had to finish wallowing. An objective made infinitely more difficult thanks to his brother's chaotic antics.
Thancred opened the door and to not one's surprise, there stood Little Winter, posed proudly with his hands on his hips. To his left, was his usual tag-along.
"Hi!"
"Minfilia."
And to his right-
"You must be Sir Thancred! Darling speaks of you so often, it's quite fortuitous that we could finally meet!"
Not only was the Seedseer of Gridania in Ul'dah-
"Ah yes, it is an honor to make your acquaintance Miss Senna! Or should I say Misses Modi?"
They all wore the modified "Santuh" suit that Little Winter had designed. Though, the girls wore a red skirt lined with white fur atop dark colored leggings and they adorned their shoulders with a short crimson colored cloak, similarly lined with white fur. That ridiculous fake white beard that he insisted on including was donned on all three of their faces.
Thancred ignored Minfilia's grumbling and observed how Little Winter handled the two of them. A light kiss here, words of assurance there, and sweet gestures that gave Thancred a toothache. He considered himself to be quite the romantic, but he didn't have the words in his vocabulary to describe Little Winter's bizarre technique. Though this wouldn't be the first time Little Winter did something irregular. Oracle or not, the boy was just downright strange.
"You're still not dressed?"
"...And what are you doing here?"
"More than you apparently."
"..."
His rival stepped around the corner in the same red outfit. She didn't wear the beard. Thank the Twelve. Y'shtola stood behind Little Winter and wrapped her hands around his body, softly nuzzling against his back. The smile hidden under Little Winter's "beard" grew gentle and he stroked the hands that were clasped just above his belly.
Since when could this horrible cat show any amount of affection? For all the years he had known her, Y'shtola was the embodiment of cold chastity. His younger sibling probably didn't realize just how strange he really was. It was one thing to have a quick lay and maybe a few dates afterwards. But to put a woman on your hook and keep her attached like this, especially a woman like Y'shtola... Thancred was going to faint again, the impossible had become possible and if he questioned why, he may not ever wake up after hearing the answer. He was certain it had to do with Little Winter's strange technique, but he didn't want to know more.
Without another word, Thancred resigned himself and went back into his room to change. But he wasn't going to wear that bloody beard!
---
The silence was deafeningly peaceful outside of the Twelveswood. Kan-E seldom ever left and now here she was, far away from the elements that governed as sovereign rulers. The Seedseer looked up, and instead of seeing the dense darkness of floating canopies, she saw an ever expanding sea of stars. A beautiful water color painting of deep blues, royal violets, and twisting clouds of stardust that glowed brightly enough to turn the night into day.
'It's so beautiful...'
Kan-E had been amazed by Ul'dah from the moment she set foot here. The way that her Darling Winter talked about Ul'dah made it sound like it was the 8th Hell, but although the daytime was hotter than expected, the dust and sand got into her shoes, and the city was organized like it was built by rats, sights like this made up for Ul'dah's faults. Some of them at any rate.
Kan-E's eye caught her new sister Y'shtola looking up as well. Though in her eyes seemed to be a sense of pensiveness rather than awe.
Unlike her quick friendship with Minfilia, Kan-E found herself at a bit of a loss when it came to Y'shtola. The woman wasn't much of a talker it seemed like, and was plenty content to stay silent and listen. Kan-E was worried that she'd feel isolated. The sisterhood was important to maintain and so challenges like this had to be overcome. She wanted to know what Y'shtola was thinking. How she felt. What she saw up there in the night sky.
What would Minfilia do...?
---
'What could it be?'
Y'shtola stared at the night sky, hoping to glean some insight into the disappearance of Aether. It had obviously ascended upwards, but towards what? She had held a wide variety of different Aetheric devices skyward, and they all returned with the same result. Nothing. The Aether simply vanished without a trace.
It logically had to go somewhere...
"Y'shtola? Are you quite alright?"
Y'shtola snapped out of her thoughts and glanced at the Seedseer, Kan-E-Senna. Her new sister.
"Mm. I am. I hope that I have not caused you undue worry?"
"Not at all! Tis but an inquiry... and if you wouldn't mind, perchance could you afford another?"
'Hm?'
"Of course."
Kan-E walked closer then suddenly took Y'shtola's hands into hers. It made the Archon raise her brow slightly, but not much else crossed her mind. She simply waited for Kan-E to speak.
"Y'shtola, I wish to learn more about you."
"More?"
Y'shtola tilted her head. She wasn't sure how to respond to such a thing. Was there much to tell?
"Mm. You've seemed somewhat distant... And I never can glean what you are thinking..."
'Ah!'
"Pfft Fufufu~"
"Y-Y'shtola?"
Whoops. Now she had to explain a bit. This was not the first time Y'shtola was told such a thing. She had often been labeled as a bit obtuse by her peers. Even amongst those in Sharlayan, her penchant for solitude was well known. An artifact of her time under Master Matoya.
"Apologies-fufu~ Kan-E was too cute~"
"E-Ehhh!"
Kan-E developed a bit of a blush. It seemed that her new sister was weak to compliments. Making that face while she continued to wear that beard though... It was too adorable.
'I suppose that I have to be a bit more talkative.'
She couldn't be Master Matoya all the time.
'Be your own woman. See the world for what it is. Not what it should be.'
Yes. In front of her was a sisterhood that required her attention. Regardless of if it should, she had to give back. If opening up would soothe Kan-E's worries then Y'shtola had no reservations. She gave a wry smile then began to speak.
"Hmm... Where to begin..."
Y'shtola told the Seedseer her story patiently. The Miqo'te was one of 12 sisters. She wasn't clear on where she was born, but she was raised within a Sharlayan Colony located on top of the Dravanian Hinterlands, under the strict tutelage of Master Matoya.
"The one that Darling is going to visit?"
"Indeed, the very same."
Y'shtola continued her tale, the war that caused Sharlayan to abandon the Colony, leaving Master Matoya behind, her studies, her work to become an Archon, and then began her new vocation as a member of the Circle.
Her life wasn't one of excitement or thrills. Though she had a few interesting missions and had seen strange sights, in the end, there wasn't much to tell. Before meeting Winnie, those marks on her neck could be called the pinnacle of her life thus far. She still intended to go further, to learn more, and with the help of her beloved's radically different mind, she had found a path rich in potential and seemingly endless in its depth.
Y'shtola quietly awaited when Winnie gave Master Matoya a demonstration of his magicks. The wizened sage likely wouldn't be as expressive as Master Louisoix, but she had her own ways of communicating astonishment. Y'shtola would know how deeply she was affected from Winnie later.
"Wow..."
Y'shtola nodded in understanding. Her story was indeed-
"Y'shtola is so... Cool!"
"...Cool?"
Only now did Y'shtola see Kan-E's eyes sparkling like a torch that was lit too bright. Her overly-excited stare seemed to bore holes into the Archon's face, making her flinch slightly.
Kan-E started to speak at such a fast pace and with such enthusiasm that Y'shtola could barely keep up. Ultimately the feeling seemed to be-
"How could you do all of that by yourself?"
A praise of her willpower? Or intelligence? Or maybe both? Y'shtola was very weak to such genuine praise. Winter taught her just how much she could melt, and Kan-E was accidentally replicating the sensation. Y'shtola put her hand over Kan-E's mouth, stopping her from speaking any further. The Archon couldn't take it.