Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

[The Sol System, Mars orbit.]

A lone ship glides through the night, a black-on-black shadow sliding across the fabric of reality. This is the stealth jumpship, Shadow Trespass, captained by the Guardian Athetos and his Ghost, Blink. It’s been a long day. Mars has returned, and with it The Witch Queen Savathûn and her Lucent Brood. Got the tar beat out of them by said Queen, unlocked Deepsight (as his Ghost, Blink calls it) which apparently allows one to temporarily manifest the past in the present, and met with Fynch, an apparent traitor to the Brood. Past that, he doesn't know what he should do. The question of whether or not to trust Fynch, while pressing, is one that must be sidelined - the ship’s console pinged with a communication request from The Drifter. Athetos reached over and accepted the call.

“Hey, Brother! Get ready for a firefight, ‘cause there’s Vex on the field!” And there he is, the Man himself. Athetos sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“This isn’t one of your Gambit matches.”He smirked, “Germaine.”

“Force of habit. But I thought I told ‘ya never to call me that!” The Drifter had the decency to look angry for a moment, before continuing on with his spiel. “Anyway, remember that time you ‘n’ me ‘n’ Moondust ‘n’ Elizabeth took down Eramis? Real good times there.”

His head on the console, Athetos mumbled “Get to the point, Drifter. I’ve had A Day.”

The Drifter held his hands up in an attempt at placation, and with his trademark winning (in his opinion) smile, forged ahead.

 “Y’know how you ‘n’ yours went and closed that big ol’ Vex Gate on Europa, down in the Glassway? Dang thing’s been actin’ up again. Mind helpin’ me out on this one, since you did such a great job last time and all?” 

“You scammed us into clearing out the Prison of Elders for the Spider last time. Try again.”

“Well, if that’s how ya wanna play it…I’m calling in that favor from when you yanked me into your head during your little Dragon hunt. I had stuff to do that day! You. Owe. Me.”

“Fine. Okay. I get that the Gate’s a huge problem that apparently isn’t going away anytime soon, no matter how many times we deal with it. I get that my Fireteam is apparently the expert when it comes to things like these.” He said, putting his head in his hands and slumping even lower in his captain’s chair. “But why in Light’s name are you running the show?” 

The Drifter shrugged, only giving a noncommittal “I was in the area.” Clearly he won’t be revealing the real reason anytime soon, though if Athetos was a betting man his guess would be on a half-assed attempt at getting back into Elsie’s good books. 

“Alright, we’ll take a look if it’s that big of an issue,” he said as he got out of his chair, walked over to the door in the back of the cockpit and left the room. As the door closed, he called out “Blink, if you would?” 

“That was rude,” she said as she hung up on the Drifter, despite his protestations. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more friendly? You are one of his Reckoners, after all.” She nodded sagely.

“Bah, I’ll be friendlier if he brings back Gambit Prime.”

Stepping into the cargo bay, Athetos pinged the rest of his Fireteam with the mission details, letting them know to sync up in Europa’s orbit. Knowing them, they’ll be jumping at the chance to fight some Vex, especially after the last fiasco they called a strike. Athetos grabbed his favorite gear - The Forward Path, an auto rifle he won in the Iron Banner, the Jotunn fusion rifle, and the Other Half, a sword that he earned through a sick and twisted gameshow run by a horse that exists, has existed, and will exist outside of time. He can still hear the whinnies. 

“Alright Blink, plot a course to…what the hell are you wearing.”

“Well, if we’re fighting the Vex, I’ll need a disguise! What’s more foolproof than looking like a Harpy?”

“ Harpies don’t wear hats. ”

“You’re just mad because I’m prettier than you.”

Athetos let out a long suffering sigh, sure that it would not be the last released today.

[Europa, Sol System. The Glassway.]

Three Guardians stand on a cliff overlooking a waterfall of what can only be described as…milk. This is Fireteam Jester, apparent experts in all things Vex on Europa. That particular honor should have gone to multiple other people, but with Osiris in a coma and Asher in the depths of the Pyramidion, there’s nobody left to take that title. 

After fighting their way through what feels like every Fallen in the Asterion Abyss, they finally arrived at what was in essence the Glassway’s front door. 

“Something’s not right. Where are all the Vex? We’d usually see a few on the approach, but nothing this time.” 

Brave-4 was the first to speak. Brave’s a straightforward guy, always preferring to forge ahead with the best intentions and smack anything in his way aside, but apparently the oddity of the situation was enough to elicit a comment. 

Xol decided that now was a good time to say his piece. “I’d assume they’re further in, waiting for us. Some sort of ambush maybe? A trap, perhaps. A sneak attack, if you will. Guerilla Warfare, if you’re so inclined.”

Xol is a fan of delivering beatdowns just like the rest of his Fireteam, or he was in the past, at any rate. It was what brought the three Warlocks together in the first place, after all.  Then, everything changed when Jester killed that damn Worm God. Now he’s obsessed with the Whisper of the Worm, a Taken Sniper Rifle he found sometime after the encounter, which as far as Athetos can tell just appeared after he passed out face down on the floor in one of Io’s caves for 20 minutes. He even went so far as to take the Worm’s name as his own. It’s worrying to be certain, but as long as he keeps that thing pointed at the Dark instead of at Humanity, there’s bigger problems to deal with. Always bigger problems. 

“Be that as it may, we can’t just leave the Gate active. If we don’t deal with it now it’ll turn into an even larger problem later on,” said Athetos.

Keeping caution close at hand, the three forged further into the Glassway, eventually coming to a stop in the final chamber. Unlike the last time they were here, the massive Gate is once again active. Blink started scanning while the three poked around the room - but there was nothing to find in all the bland Vex architecture. Jester started to relax a bit, wondering why they even had to come all the way out here if there’s nothing barring their way. 

“This is the same Gate we closed before,” Blink stated. Continuing on with her analysis, “but this time, something’s different…this gate doesn’t lead anywhere within the network, or even outside it. It’s like it has no destination at all! I can only imagine what the Vex were thinking when they did this - and it has to be intentional, otherwise it wouldn’t even open.”

“It’s gotta be a trap,” Xol shouted from the back of the room. “It’s GOTTA be.” 

Athetos shrugged at that. All other reasonable options are exhausted. It’s time for some unreasonable ones. 

“The Vex set up this wonderful invitation for us. Let’s kick down the door.”

The Fireteam flexed their light - Arc jumped between Athetos’ outstretched hands, Void boiled and ate away at Brave’s surroundings, and Solar’s warmth spread from Xol, covering all of them in a blanket of life.

“Always putting out the Drifter’s fires,” muttered Brave.

And with that, something finally happened. What had to be the biggest Hydra any of them had ever seen descended from the ceiling, firing all of its’ Aeon Mauls as fast as it can, cutting off the team’s escape - or at least the escape route they wanted to take. Seemingly endless waves of all types of Vex swarmed the room - Hobgoblins taking sniping positions on the periphery, Minotaurs flanking the unknown Vex Mind, with Goblins interspersed throughout to complete their ranks. The Gate loomed behind them, like the Unit Circle on the worst Trigonometry exam you’ve ever taken. Athetos unslung his Forward Path and started mowing down the small fry. Brave started slapping the Minotaurs and Hobgoblins. Xol spread his Light into a rift, and fired the Whisper at the largest targets he could find. It all seemed to be working too, until Athetos ran out of ammo. The team lost ground until they were forced back within spitting distance of the Gate. Xol and Brave kept firing at the Hydra from the opposite side. With the Hydra’s attention on the two, Athetos called out. 

“Blink! I need you to launch an airstrike!”

She paused for a moment. “We’re in the middle of a glacier. Are you sure you w-”

“No time! Just throw everything we have at that thing!”

Three things happened at once: The Shadow Trespass burst through the icy ceiling with its guns blazing, The Hydra took enough damage to rupture its core, and the resulting blast flung Xol and Brave to safety…and Athetos directly into the Gate. Blink did the only thing she could and brought the ship through for a rescue attempt. This proved to be a bad idea as the Gate sputtered and died, cutting the Fireteam off from each other and sending their leader spiraling into the unknown.

[Unknown Space, Vex Network.]

“Well this sucks.”

Athetos tumbles through a white void. There’s no telling how fast, how far, or even what direction he’s going. His ship, though comforting to see, isn’t any help either - while it’s stable and heading in the same direction, it’s farther away than he can reach. He has a solution, though probably not the best idea. Athetos throws a grenade into his other hand. While this may seem like an incredibly stupid idea (and he’s had more than his fair share of those over the years), what else can he do? It’s not like there’s anything he can push himself against. After what feels like an eternity, he slams into the ship and holds on for dear life. As he gets back onto his feet, he summons his Ghost. 

“Blink? Anything you can tell me about our current situation?”

Blink floats away from wherever it is she hides and starts scanning. “As best as I can tell, we’re lost somewhere in the Vex network. This…place? Isn’t on any of Misraaks’ maps, and it certainly isn’t on any of the Vanguard’s. Luckily, I’m detecting several weak points we can probably make into an exit.”

“Then I guess all we can do is get cracking, then.” 

Athetos has been many things in his long life - Risen, Young Wolf, Kingslayer, and starting recently, Splicer. Just as he thinks about backing off and attacking from a different direction, he becomes aware of a noise. Screaming. He looks to his left.

“What.”

Falling out of a Gate is the oddest group of people he’s ever seen. First is an absolutely massive boulder of a man, dressed in red and armed to the teeth, cradling a green chicken, followed by a man in a suit who has an almost gentlemanly look about him, and a woman who can only be described as a catgirl. Even stranger, the group seems to recognize him, what with the catgirl’s frantic waving and the gentleman pointing at him in abject surprise. Unfortunately, there’s no time to do much more than wave in confusion as he’s unceremoniously sucked through a different Gate - ship and all. As he exits the network in its typical rush of light and sound, he does the only thing he can: plummet to his death.

Chapter Text

[Unknown Area]

Falling. If there was ever anything that he’s grown proficient at in his lifetime, it was falling. For as long as he could remember, most of what he’s done has involved falling in some capacity. This particular fall is nothing special: the Red War, diving into the Pit of Heresy’s long fallways, and the first time he ever saw a Taken Phalanx all come to mind. Don’t misunderstand, though - it isn’t the act of falling itself that he hates.  

“Oh look, the ground!” 

Because it never really is the fall that kills you, but the sudden stop at the end.

“Thank you, Blink. I was unaware of the predicament I seem to have found myself in. Could you pleas-”

For a time, Athetos stopped thinking. Thinking had never really been his strong suit, despite being a Warlock. In all honesty he probably would have made a better Titan, but whoever decides these things must have thought it would be hilarious for a Warlock to go around smacking the hell out of all of his problems. To each their own. As long as it works, these hands remain rated E for Everyone - and if that doesn’t work, he’ll just figure something out as he always does. The first impression he has of the surrounding area upon regaining consciousness is way, way too much sand, dust, and assorted scrub brush.

“Aw hell, the Vex sent us to Nevada.”

With a crack of his neck, a shrug, and a failed attempt to slap the dust off of himself, he got to work. Most of his weapons miraculously survived the fall - The Other Half strapped to his back is another story. The same could also be said about the ship. According to the nearby panel, the NLS drive is fried, the internal oxygen tanks are ruptured, and the hull is crumpled in several places, making it incredibly unsafe to fly even in-atmosphere. 

“How’s transmat looking? Still have access to my stuff? Blink?”

Blink was laying on the ground a ways away. Athetos sprinted over and scooped her up. If she wasn’t responding to any of his calls, then it’s time to use their mental link. Neither of them liked using it, as they both felt that it’s an invasion of the other’s privacy, but with the situation rapidly spiraling past emergency and no other options, he opened his mind. 

...erewherewherewherewherewherewherewherewherewherewherewherewherewherewhe…

Blink? Blink! 

WHERESTHELIGHT

What. 

W H E R E I S I T

WHAT

He jerked back as her side of the link vanished. Scrambling to his feet, he tried to do something, anything with his Light. Grenades, rifts, nothing. Athetos was Lightless. And Blink, BLINK ! Her eye dimmed, flickered. 

“A-Ath? Where are you? I can’t feel the Light…I can’t feel…anything.”

“I’m right here with you. I’m not going anywhere, just please stay with me! We can figure out what’s wrong and fix it!”

With that, her eye shut off, likely for good. He didn’t  know how long he sat there, Blink cradled in his hands. What he did know, however, is that Ghosts should not be able to move after death, nor should they be glowing. I hesitantly reach out.

“Blink? Are you alright? Is…Is that you?”

The Ghost(?) turned towards him, staring with its blank crystalline blue faceplate. It hovered closer.

“Chosen of the Light. Hear Me.”

With that, it fired a beam directly at his forehead,  and he knew no more.

[Earlier That Day]

Jospaire was having an…interesting day, to say the least. After checking out of his room at the Eternal Sleep, Camp Drybone’s best (not to mention only ) Inn, it was finally time to set out on the last leg of his journey. After months of travel, he had finally arrived at his destination: a cliff housing a Goobbue that is rumored to have been on the front lines of the Battle of Carteneau itself! 

After its rider was struck down in battle, he thought to himself, it must have sought shelter from the destruction raining down from the heavens, passing through the Twelveswood before arriving here in Thanalan. During this journey, the seeds of myriad plants came to cling to its body. Though the poor Goobbue succumbed to its injuries in the end, these seeds would take root and eventually sprout from its carcass. It'll be amazing to see such an amalgam of species from across Eorzea. To think that such beauty could arise from that terrible tragedy... The gods do indeed work in mysterious ways. 

It was fortunate that he was alone at the time, because one of the gods’ mysterious ways was rapidly approaching from above. With a noise not entirely unlike a Warsat falling to the Earth (though he didn’t know what either of those things are) a hulking metal object appeared out of nowhere and fell to the ground with a loud boom. It was also fortunate that his attention was entirely taken up by this odd occurrence, because he would have otherwise also seen a man in odd armor complete a record-breakingly fast transformation into a bloody smear. Deciding to go investigate - as any Botanist worth their sap would at least try to put out a small fire or two - he found a monstrosity of black metal, pushed deep into the cliff wall - the cliff right where the fabled Goobbue would have been if some form of vehicle hadn’t smashed into it at insane speeds. Putting aside his concerns over the destruction of a historic landmark, Jospaire got to work putting out the fires dotting the craft, ensuring they would not spread. Could it be one of those Garlean Warmachina he kept hearing about? During his work, he discovered a hatch lying slightly ajar against the otherwise flat section of the machine. Figuring that a Warmachina must have a pilot, he headed inside. 

If the outside of this object looked unfamiliar, then the inside was a whole other story. Blank corridors of dark metal stretched into sharp turns, interspersed with flickering red lights and doors that he could not open, as if something was drawing him in deeper. A wiser man would have turned back at that point, feeling that something was wrong, but something had him in his grasp and was calling him deeper. 

Something sinister.

“Son of a bitch.”

Athetos awoke in a void for the second time today. Before him is a crystal of titanic proportions, one that dwarfs anything he’s ever seen. Other than the crystal, there is nothing, save himself and yet another voice in his head. Could the crystal be speaking to him?

Chosen of Light…Warrior of another land...hearken to mine call.

Definitely the Crystal, then.

“Whatever or whoever you are, I’m warning you now that Crystals and I have a bad relationship.”

Worry not, Warrior. I work to protect this Star and everything on it. 

“Warrior? I’m a Guardian. I fight to protect the people of the Last City, not to conquer.”

The last city? You did not come from Ul’dah, to the West. Nay, you hail from….further afield, do you not?

“Well, I did fall through the interdimensional time-traveling robot bacteria dimension before coming here, so that might have something to do with it.” 

…None of those words are known to me. A pause. As hasty as it may seem, may I ask of you a boon, of sorts?

“So forward! We’ve only just met! But really, what is it? Since I’m here and all.”

I have...Agents in Eorzea. Executors of my Will, one might say. They are in dire need of assistance, though I cannot directly intervene.

“ That’s nice and all, but what can I do to help? Without the Light, I’m mortal. One mistake, and I’m done.”

Within you lies another power, does it not? 

“Absolutely not. Even if I was willing to use it in the first place, there’s no telling what it’ll do to me, to others, now that I’m Lightless.”

As you have granted me a boon, I have one in return. A pure white crystal appeared before him in a flash of light. This is a Crystal of Light. It has a myriad of effects, though they may be different for one of your….constitution.

“I don’t know if I can trust you, though. Objectively speaking, this sounds suspicious as hell.”

Be that as it may, our time here is coming to an end. You must make this choice. You shall awake, your companion returned, but I know not what lies beyond time’s horizon. The way forward shall reveal itself in time.

“Wait! Before you go, can you at least tell me who you are? In our whole conversation, you never told me your name.”

I am Hydaelyn, and I am a God.

After checking a storage room cargo bay and what might have been a control room cockpit for survivors and finding no evidence of anyone at all (give him a break, he’s a Botanist for crying out loud; technology isn’t his area of expertise), he came upon the source of the siren song in the back of his mind - a weapon unlike any he had ever seen, encased in some sort of ward containment field, get with the program. Without quite knowing what he was doing, Jospaire reached through the field. 

Athetos woke with a start on the same dusty plain he collapsed on earlier - same dust, sand, and rock combining in such a way to make the surroundings utterly plain and unremarkable. But first, a more important matter to attend to.

“Blink? You with me?” 

“Did anyone get the number of that Sparrow?” slurred a voice from beneath him.

“Blink! You’re alive!”

“Could you quiet down? I have a headache. I didn’t even know it was possible for Ghosts to have headaches! What happened?”

“You died, I spoke to a Goddess, you came back to life, not important.”

“Those sound pretty imp-”

“Yeah, I’m just messing with ya. Humor is one of my defense mechanisms, after all. I’m glad to have you back. I met a goddess, Hydaelyn’s her name. Pretty nice, all things considered. You know how all the other ‘Gods’ we’ve met over the years were. She gave me some sort of crystal, claimed it’d restore our connection to the Light. Looks like it worked.” 

“I don’t quite know about that, something still feels off. Try using, I don’t know, any ability?”

Athetos tried. He tried his little heart out. But at the end of the day (or fifteen minutes straight of flailing, but he would deny it to his dying breath if asked), nothing. He may have had his Ghost back, but he did not yet have his former power. Perhaps that would change in time, but for now he was still functionally mortal. After a mental breakdown he definitely did not have, Athetos entered the ship once more and entered the cargo bay to pick up his preferred loadout, whereupon he was met with another problem.

“Blink? Why isn’t my Jötunn working?”

“Oh dear, I was afraid of this. It seems your connection to the Light is so weak right now that anything requiring large amounts to use just…can’t be. As much as it hurts, you’re probably better off leaving those in the ship and using something that’s borderline Lightless.”

“Well, I needed an excuse to use these, I suppose” he said, grabbing his trusty Khvostov, as well as his shiny new toy, a Glaive by the name of The Enigma. “How’d you know all that anyway?”

“How do you know how to breathe?” 

“Fair enough.”

And so the Guardian and his trusty companion set off to the settlement that lay to the West, one that he saw on his ill-advised trip to the ground. A trip that they began utterly oblivious to the red warning light flashing on the ship’s console.

Jospaire’s hand closed around the weapon’s grip and fell to his knees, his mind assaulted by visions of various beings of all shapes, sizes and colors being atomized by the weapon that lay before him. He curled further into a ball and shut his eyes in a futile attempt to resist, to escape his mental anguish, before shooting to his feet with a scream, the weapon firmly clasped in his hand.

Telesto opened his eyes and took his first breath under his own power. 

Chapter Text

Ten minutes later, they were lost. Athetos knew exactly how as well - knowing Ul’dah (wherever that is) is to the West doesn’t help if he doesn’t know where West is. As he walked on in the same direction, he thought to himself. A mission with no clear goal, an unknown place with unknown dangers, and the bare minimum resources. At least there’s breathable air and drinkable water. Not like I haven't faced these kinds of odds before. Think, man! Think! What would The Drifter do… Get arrested, and somehow start at least three major diplomatic incidents. No, not him. What would Sloane do? Set up or find a base of operations, gather supplies, and interact with the locals. If it worked for the Warlords, it’ll work here. Well, besides the “killing and pillaging whoever and whatever they wanted” bit. Still though, I should try to figure out where I am. There’s only so much I can SHIT!

Athetos found himself falling again - he had been too absorbed in his thoughts to notice he had reached the buildings he was walking to, which were in reality the tops of towers built in a hole in the ground. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to have broken any bones in striking the cobblestones below (though one could easily think otherwise with the amount of swearing involved). Evidently a man falling from the ridge above was enough of an uncommon occurrence that several people rushed over to determine if he was alright. After using the good old “I was robbed” technique, a kindly old shepherd by the name of Isembard offered his help.  With a crude map and some local currency known as Gil in hand, Athetos was on his way once more. He felt really bad about swindling Isembard out of his money, but desperate times, desperate measures. He was on his way out of town when Blink insisted they find a quiet place to talk. 

Athetos turned the nearest corner, and summoned Blink after checking to see if anyone was near.

“Two things, Ath. The first is that you refuse to talk about earlier. The Light leaving us entirely should not have happened unless we both died. Seeing as we’re still here, I need answers.”

Athetos stiffened and took a deep breath. He knew it wasn’t right for him to keep secrets from his partner, but now wasn’t the time. He said as much and waited for all hell to break loose.

“Alright, I’ll accept that for now, but once we’re in a secure location you have to talk to me about it.” Blink nodded sagely, as well as a floating eye could. “Promise me that much, at least.”

“I know it seems like an excuse, but I’ll probably wake up screaming about it at 3 am and…wait, you accept that? No questions asked?” Athetos seemed taken aback at such a prospect. She was usually more…combative in her opinions, to say the least. Her not pushing the issue was certainly a surprise. Time would tell if it was an unwelcome one. 

“No questions asked...yet.” Blink continued. If that wasn’t the only thing she wanted to speak about, then what else? “I was running some scans, and there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll be ripping the bandaid off. You aren’t Lightless. As best as I can tell (and I ran these tests several times to avoid being mistaken) your Light has instead been…unaspected? De-aspected? I’m not entirely certain because there’s some sort of general interference in every scan I do. I’m getting better at filtering it out but until we know what’s causing it, we’re flying blind. I don’t like the unknown. My point is this: your general abilities such as your glide and healing rift should work fine, but anything aligned with an element won’t work until we find a solution. This includes your weaponry, as we’ve seen before. Also, the jury’s still out on whether or not I can resurrect you, so please don’t test that.”

“And you couldn’t have told me this before I fell off a cliff?”

“I tried! You were so absorbed in your thoughts that you didn’t notice anything I did. It’s understandable that you would be, but do try to avoid doing that in combat, yeah?”

“Alright. I won’t test it here because I trust you and I need to keep some secrets. People fear what they don’t understand, after all. At any rate, we know where Ul’dah is and how to get there, so let’s hit the road!” 

With that, Athetos stowed Blink in wherever pocket dimension she’d come from (give him a break, he hasn’t had the time to learn the minutiae of how Transmat works. How is it even working here anyway?) and headed up the ramp out of Camp Drybone. It was a shame that in his search for eavesdroppers, he’d never looked up. If he had, he would have seen a white-haired man looking at him from across the plaza with what had almost certainly been a suspicious glare. Indeed, it was too bad he didn’t - the coming events could have been handled with something other than the grace of a Cabal Drop Pod. 

Sometime down the road, Athetos spoke up. 

“It sure is a good thing we crash landed on an Earthlike planet. Breathable air, normal gravity, Carbon-based life. I can’t imagine landing on a Sulfur planet would do us any good. At least here we might be able to repair the Trespass .”

Minutes later, he regretted opening his mouth. At first it was easy: tiny cow-like creatures with spines, clouds of small insects, bats, and the occasional freakishly large (though still small) ants. Athetos had no problem putting them down with a swing of his glaive or a shot from his rifle. No, the real problems arrived with the strange walking cacti and the downright absurdly sized ants. He even saw a massive toad in a pool of water by the side of the road. Where did they even come from?! No ecosystem can support this many lifeforms of this size! Worse still, his Khvostov is rapidly running out of ammo, and his sword is not an option with his ship being the only place he can resupply. It turns out that even Russian engineering has its limits. While his Glaive is certainly an option, it isn’t a very good one - without training, he’d just be swinging it wildly without any clue on such lofty concepts as “efficiency” or “vital areas” - he would usually just hit things until they died. Ammo problems notwithstanding, at the very least his money problems have been solved since these creatures leave Gil behind when they die. Odd, that. It kinda reminds him of the time he asked Blink where Glimmer comes from. At the time, she hit him with a bunch of complex math and physics that basically boiled down to “they’re made of matter and Glimmer’s made of matter so we flip the matter turnways and get Glimmer.” At any rate, the amount of enemies (perceived or otherwise) petered out around the upcoming settlement, a town he would later learn is called Blackbrush Station. He would have stopped to ask for directions, but he happened to look to his left as he was entering town and saw a massive city in the distance. In fact, it was the only thing he had seen here so far that rated that description -  surely this was the city of Ul’dah that Hydaelyn spoke of? Again he left town in search of Ul’dah, and again he missed the white-haired man that was following him from a ways back. One would think that as a warrior who had been fighting for nigh on centuries, he would have fine-tuned combat instincts on a level never before seen by Wuxia protagonists, but apparently not. 

“You know, Blink. I’ve been wondering what those crystal pylons are. You got any ideas? I’d ask someone but that’d be a tad suspicious if someone went and asked what something that’s in every town is.”

“I’m not sure, but I have been able to detect that the strange interference is more concentrated around them. Maybe we can find a library or something.”

“Ha, nerd.”

As Athetos approached the city, he could see a pair of people guarding the city’s gates - one incredibly tall, and the other almost comically small. Both most likely local law enforcement of some kind or another. He raised a hand in greeting, but ended up awkwardly lowering it as the guard on his right gave him a practiced, if bored, spiel. 

“Welcome to Ul’dah! Step up, step through, and keep on moving, please.” 

Seeing that Guard A was a lost cause as far as information gathering was concerned, he turned to the other guard and walked away. Just before he got out of earshot, he could have sworn he heard the small man mutter “Just my luck to pull duty for the Gate of Nald - only the most trafficked gate in the city!” 

Guard B, however, wasn’t having anything to do with allowing an incredibly oddly dressed man to just waltz into the city. Besides wearing a leather coat in the middle of a desert, the main problem he has with the man is his closed-face helmet shaped like some sort of giant Coeurl.

“Halt! State your business in Ul’dah, adventurer.”

Athetos never was one to just let an opportunity slip by him, and this was no exception. 

“I’m not actually an adventurer yet. Where might I go to become one?”

Guard B sighed and shook his head. “Another one, eh? Go see Otopa Pottopa in The Quicksand. She’ll send you on your way from there.”

“The Quicksand being that big building right inside?”

After an affirmative grunt, Athetos was on his way once more, ready to fulfill his glorious destiny!

Guard B piped up as he walked past. “Don’t try anything or I’ll skin ye and throw the rest in our cookpots.” 

…And there goes the image of a magical fantasy world. Heh. Magic, as if that’s real. 

Such a welcoming place. At least the guards didn’t try to recruit him to some faction or other. Yet. Adventurers don’t count because they’re more like freelance mercenaries from what he’s seen so far. Given that the Quicksand was easy to find, Athetos was at the main desk in a flash. 

“Good morrow to you, adventurer. How may I serve you? 

“I’m not actually an adventurer yet. Well, not officially anyway. Who would I talk to in order to make that happen?”

“That’d be Miss Momodi at the other desk. She’s the proprietress of the Quicksand, so do try not to make her mad, eh adventurer?” 

“But I’m not a…oh nevermind. Thanks for your help!”

Athetos waved over his shoulder and approached the next desk, bracing himself for the inevitable bureaucratic hellscape to follow. However, his greatest challenge to date awaits him: waiting patiently in line. 

After what seemed like an eternity, he got to the desk. Before he could speak, the small woman beat him to the punch. 

“Another Adventurer hopeful, eh? State your name and occupation for the records, and we’ll get you all signed up!”

Honesty is the best policy, isn’t it? Though his entire backstory may be unbelievable, surely a watered down version would work?

“I’m Athetos, and I’m a Guardian, specifically a Warlock. I’ve come here from The Last City to fight against the enemies of Humanity.”

It was at this moment Blink realized she should have talked to him about coming up with a cover story. Oh well. 

“Hmm, Gridanian are you? Might have a touch of heatstroke, get that checked out. Anyway, that staff you have on your back looks close enough to a scepter, so I’ll just put you down as a Thaumaturge. Your adventurer card’s all filled out and ready to go.

Before you go chargin' off to find your fortune, I've a few basic tasks I'd like you to perform so as to help you get to know the place. First of all, I want you to visit the Aetheryte Plaza. To get there, head west from here till you reach Emerald Avenue, then look to the north. You should see a giant, floatin' crystal called an aetheryte. If it weren't for aetherytes, travelin' around Eorzea would be a damn sight more troublesome than it is. 'Course, you still need to attune with 'em before you can use 'em, so be sure to do that with the one in the plaza. You ever attuned with an aetheryte before, Athetos? If not, just lay your hand on the thing and you'll see what I mean. When you've done that, I want you to pay a visit to the Thaumaturges' Guild, over at Arrzaneth Ossuary. Assumin' that scepter ain't just for show, you might consider trainin' there. And finally, I want you to visit the Sapphire Avenue Exchange, over on the Steps of Thal. Goods from all across Eorzea and beyond turn up there every day. You'll have no trouble findin' armor, weapons, or anythin' else a fledglin' adventurer like yourself might need. You might say that everythin's for sale here in Ul'dah -- as long as you've got the gil. Just make sure as you don't pay more than you ought. There's plenty as won't scruple to swindle unsuspectin' foreigners like yourself, 'specially if they think no one's lookin' out for their best interests. Which is why I'm givin' you this letter. When you visit the exchange, find a gentleman named Seseroga and give it to him. He'll be happy to tell you about the markets once he's read it. In short, then: visit the Aetheryte Plaza, the Thaumaturges' Guild, and the Sapphire Avenue Exchange. Simple. Oh, but before you go, a word of advice: while there're more than a few unsavory characters out there who'll try to take advantage of you, there are also some with honest-to-goodness problems who you should consider offerin' a helpin' hand to. A lot of folk are lured to this city by the promise of wealth and power. What many of 'em fail to realize is that instead of chasin' after gil the moment they get here, they ought to be makin' friends. Let it be known that you're willin' to give as much as you get, and opportunities will come your way. And that's all from me. It's past time you got goin'. Oh, and let me know when you've finished, will you? That way, I won't spend my days worryin' that you're down to your smallclothes without a gil to your name.” 

Seeing as he wouldn’t have been able to get a word in edgewise, Athetos just sighed, slumped his shoulders, took what was offered to him, and left the Quicksand, Blink yammering away into his helmet about how this would be a “fun little field trip” and that she’s “been learning so much.” Luckily, he already knew what an aetheryte looks like, just not what they’re for. In all honesty, he’d have thought they were for protection of some kind. He might not be too far off the mark if they do what he thinks they do, though. Why have a garrison in any given town when one can teleport an army right where it needs to go? 

Once at the plaza, Athetos did as instructed, as he had nothing better to do with his time. Reaching out his hand, he felt a grand total of nothing. No sense of connection, no tingle one would normally associate with being near a heavily radioactive object, nothing. He would have given up to figure this out another time had he not had an idea. If his Light had become unaligned, would that not imply it’s relatively easier to manipulate? With this in mind, Athetos took his Light and pushed it outwards, directing it at the aetheryte. If anything it was even easier than forming something like a rift or a full melee, considering he didn’t have to shape it at all. The instant it made contact with the crystal, he felt it, a connection formed - though he couldn’t tell what its exact purpose was. Perhaps Blink could run some scans, though not in a public place such as this. Come to think of it, wasn’t the Quicksand also an Inn? Athetos hurried back, entirely missing the small man (he should really learn if they have some sort of special name. Come to think of it, didn’t he see a catgirl and a lizard man earlier?) trying to get his attention by the entrance, shouting something about attunement fees, in addition to ignoring Momodi’s advice about the Thaumawhatevers and avoiding swindlers. Stepping up to the desk, he was able to get a room for what he thought must have been a pretty cheap price. At last, he and Blink were alone, freeing her to do whatever scans she needed to figure out just what that aetheryte had done to him. 

Athetos sat on the bed, poking around the various bits of furniture that came with the room. Nice of them to provide a journal with which to write one’s exploits in, though they only had a quill and inkwell to write with. Had they not invented pens here yet? He could have sworn he saw what looked like train tracks crisscrossing the area around Blackbrush Station a while back. While he putzed around and got lost in his thoughts trying to figure out this place’s tech level, Blink’s scans yielded results. 

“Alright. As you know, distinct objects usually remain that way, barring situations such as teleporter accidents and the like. However, in this case your Light facilitated a bond between you and that crystal. While both you and it are both separate things, I believe this bond allows you to temporarily become one with it, much like how we use transmat to get around, but with more restrictions. I couldn’t tell you what those are, but at least it should be possible once you figure out how. At the very least it should be a good replacement until we can get the Trespass back up and running. To that end, I suggest-”

It was at that moment that a white-haired man burst through the door and started pontificating about customs and immigration or something like that. Athetos certainly did NOT fall off his bed flailing like a distressed octopus, no he did not. At the very least such an action would have given Blink enough time to hide, though it did not happen. Indubitably. Seeing as he very nearly caused an incident, the man helped Athetos up. 

“Apologies, my friend. I should not have burst into your room like that. I am Thancred Waters, from the Ul'dahn Customs and Immigration Department. May I have a moment of your time?” The man said with what would have been a winning smile if used on anyone else. “Normally we don’t do house calls, but your entry into the city raised enough eyebrows to make it necessary. May I have a written manifest of your possessions, please?” 

Nonplussed by the man’s attempts at digging for something, Athetos nevertheless wrote down a simple phrase on the provided paper and handed it over. However, he was instantly faced with another problem. 

“I can’t read this.”

“Oh Traveler above and Darkness below, there’s a language barrier too? Just what is with this place? Alright, “Mister Waters,” I’ll just cut to the chase. I. Don’t. Believe. You. You haven’t even shown me an official badge or anything else that would lead me to believe a word you’re saying right now. Who in their right mind would?” With every word, he edged closer to his weapons, placed somewhat inconveniently on the floor behind the bed due to his earlier spill. 

“Well, alright. If I can’t convince you, then I suppose I’ll have to resort to…other methods of persuasion” he said, dropping into a combat stance and drawing his daggers. Athetos responded by braining him with an inkwell. Seeing as his assailant was otherwise distracted, Athetos dove for his glaive and pointed it at the man as best as he could, and they started circling each other.

“So, who are you really working for? You don’t look like a government type, and you’re certainly not military.”

The man smirked. “What’s important is who you work for, I think. Not from here and a full face covering - Garlemald, perhaps? But no, you looked confused when you saw a Lalafell, not to mention that strange writing of yours. Curiouser and curiouser, indeed.” The two were now opposite where they started, Thancred by the bed and Athetos with his back to the door. 

“I asked first, asshole!” Athetos shouted, going in for his tried and true one two three glaive combo. Despite it working on the enemies he usually faced, Thancred expertly parried two out of the three strikes, only being caught in the face by the glaive’s blunt-ended backswing. 

“Not a weapons expert, it seems. And here I was hoping for a challenge. Oh well.” With that, Thancred kicked him in the chest, sending him tumbling back into the device in the room’s corner - one that turned out to be a jukebox of some sort, given that it started playing a song that one could mistake not being a battle theme, given all the woodwinds and brass that spewed out of the box’s speakers. At any rate, both combatants were distracted enough that neither saw the door creep open far enough to allow someone to slip inside. After bashing each other against the furniture enough to rack up a pretty hefty repair bill, Athetos felt a tap on his shoulder. Sure enough, when he turned around he saw “Sleep.”

…A white-haired catgirl almost shoving a staff in his face. Hey, I’m really tired all of a sudden, isn’t that odd? Athetos slumped to the floor, almost instantly snoring loud enough to wake everyone but himself. 

Seeing as his target was now unable to battle, Thancred sheathed his knives. 

“Thank you for showing up after he hit me in the face, Y’shtola. That was incredibly necessary and important.”

“Well, I was in the area, and when I heard you had a job in the area I simply had to rush over and see what you’d done. Good thing I did, how were you expecting to fix this?”

“I was planning on knocking him unconscious - a task I had well in hand, thank you very much, and bringing him to the Waking Sands, where we would then determine who he is. There’s something off about him, I can tell you that much.”

Y’shtola sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That’s all well and good, but how were you planning on getting him out of the city? Carrying an unconscious man over your shoulder wouldn’t be unconcerning to the Brass Blades.”

“...I saw a hay cart just outside the window as I was coming in.”

“By the Twelve, I cannot believe you.”

The two were so absorbed in their argument, and by their subsequent slinging Athetos over Thancred’s shoulder like a sack of grain that they never noticed Blink following them from a distance after they exited the room.