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driftward · 4 months

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Title: Blind Date Characters: Zoissette Vauban, Y'shtola Rhul, Y'mhitra Rhul, Ryssthota Sundstyrwyn, Apple Silverberg, Ement Vauban, Thancred Waters Summary: Zoissette and Y'shtola find themselves being roped into a blind date by their very well-meaning friends. Notes: August YOTP entry - Blind Date

Y’shtola picked up and examined the glasses carefully.

She had not been able to get to them as fast as she had liked, but with matters in the Thirteenth now well in hand, and her friend on their way to recovery, well. She now had time and means both at her disposal. Working on the glasses, restoring them to full use, would give her something to do in between writing reports on her experiences.

She examined them carefully, to gauge the work that would now lay before her.

It was to be a matter that was going to be more difficult than she had first surmised.

Fortunately, the glasses were not needed for corrective means, and so Zoissette would not be left blind while they were being repaired. That was where the good fortune in the matter ended, however. The glasses were special, and not as some mere fashion item. They had been carefully made, and then laden with a great many enchantments, many of which were tied to Zoissette’s aether, or had been instilled using formulae and techniques which were yet unknown to Y’shtola.

A challenge, but one that was not beyond Y’shtola’s unique qualifications. Even if she did not know some of Zoissette’s magical specialties to any depth, she was a master of aether itself, and could fair see the weavings of magicks deeply embedded into the lenses and frame. She could not replicate many of the magicks, but with care and diligence, she could shift them and restore them whole.

She turned the glasses over in her hands. The frame was salvageable, but would need a hinge replaced, and the metal carefully refurbished. One lens was intact, which was well. It would inform her approach to replacing the other, which was broken, the only remaining part being a large shard that stubbornly remained attached to the frame. The nose pieces, too, were more than just functional, and carried some magical energies that would need to be handled. Unfortunately, they had been partially melted in the laboratory fire, and would need to be replaced.

What had initially seemed to perhaps be merely an afternoon of due diligence was now looking to perhaps be a larger project, but it was of no matter. Zoissette would certainly not need them for many moons, and so Y’shtola had time. She would shift her focus between this project and the reports she had promised to make, and finish both with her usual aplomb.

She smiled to herself. This challenge was one she would overcome.

~*~

Zoissette was keeping herself busy.

As she worked, she reminded herself. Failure was not an option. Right.

It was a saying her old mentor was very fond of. Failure was not an option, he would say. Failure was mandatory, he would repeat, and often. The option, he opined, was in how one faced it.

It was well that such lessons were drilled into her early, with every hefting of her shield and every arc of her sword, every drill, every session. Otherwise, she would probably find her long string of failures even more distressing than they already were.

Like her most recent failure. With Mathye.

The ending of their courtship was almost certainly a good thing. She had tried, and she had failed. Love was supposed to grow where you watered it, so old Ishgardian wisdom went, and she had tried so very hard.

But in the end, that garden had lay fallow. She was willing to keep trying, as long as it took. He deserved it, and she could have made it work, she was certain.

But then all at once, all of a sudden, she realised she might already have a love.

She was not certain, but she had to be honest with him.

And so she was.

And so it hurt.

They had broken it off, and he was hurt, and she was the one who had hurt him, and that was frankly the worst part of the whole affair.

And so, now she distracted herself. Kept herself busy. Long hours in the vehicle bay. Consulting hours with those who wished an able adventurer to help them with their troubles. Anything that kept her out of Mathye’s way.

She had weathered many failures in her summers on the star. This, too, she would overcome.

~*~

Y’mhitra happily wiled her time with her friends in the Gage Acquisitions laboratory. Ryss was a good sort and an accomplished scientist, and Apple and her had a shared history of being among the privileged few who delved deep into Allagan ruins. They had caught one another up on various experiments they had running, Apple’s recent misadventures, Ryss’ good natured exasperation at her friends, and the conversation had turned from the scientific now to the more personal matters the three were dealing with. Apple was still in recovery, and Ryss was in between projects and thinking about what to do next.

“How’s Y’shtola?” asked Apple. “I feel as though I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Last I saw her, she was still writing up reports for the Forum regarding that misadventure in the Thirteenth.”

“And what an adventure it was!” said Ryss with a grin. “But all’s well that ends well, right? Can’t wait to apply everything we’ve learned. What a trip! I have so many ideas, I can hardly pick just one to work on.”

“And I think research into the Voidsent phenomena may help me with my condition,” said Apple. “It’s fascinating, really, how the people on the Thirteenth get along - what few that are left. I hope to get more chances to talk with Zero in the future.”

“And what about the rest of your little group here at Gage? Where is Zoissette?” Y’mhitra asked, taking a tart for herself.

Apple turned the faintest shade of red while Ryss shook her head with a laugh. “Oh, broken up over breaking up with Mathye. She’s burying herself in the vehicle bay these days when she can’t find someone else’s problems to stick her nose into.”

Y’mhitra raised an eyebrow.

“And how recent is this bit of news?”

“Been a bit. Sennights going into moons. Apparently she walked into the dining room when it happened, made a big announcement, then ran right back out. I swear, my girl doesn’t know how to do anything by half measures.”

“She’s been working a lot,” said Apple. “I kind of feel bad for her, but I’m not sure how to help.”

Y’mhitra sat her tart back down, as an idea formed in her mind, and she looked conspiratorially between her fellow sisters of science.

“Oh, I think I might have an idea,” she said, and she could not help but allow herself a bit of a wicked grin.

~*~

The glass turned out to be a key piece of the puzzle before her. She could not just source ordinary glass. It was a remarkable material that Zoissette had puzzled out, glass that was transparent but could be laden down with so much aether to support so many enchantments. It was more artifact than eyewear, puissant in its own right.

Fascinating. Her most powerful piece of adventuring gear, and it might not have been weapon or armor, but rather the way she looked at the world through these glasses. Zoissette was a marvel. Y’shtola smiled faintly to herself as she carefully set the glass into the refurbished frame. She squinted, and her fingers played in the air as she gently encouraged lines of aether to connect to this new piece, convincing the glasses that the new lens had been part of it all along.

She sat back, satisfied, and checked the chronometer. She had half a bell to spare before she had to be at the Last Stand. A lunch meetup that her sister had invited her and Thancred to. She sighed. It was enough time to get ready, but only just.

She was on time, of course. Y’shtola was ever a woman of culture, and fashionably late was a habit she did not nurture if she could help it. She had nothing to prove, after all, and she hoped others respected her time as much as she respected theirs. She found the two, placed their orders, and soon enough they were swapping stories and sharing food.

Y’shtola was pleased. Everyone was in high spirits, in the wake of all that had happened. Thancred had been keeping himself busy, of course, and while he tried to downplay the extent of his travails, she could tell he was pleased with the results of what he had been looking into. Y’mhitra, of course, pressed her for details about her time on the Thirteenth, and oddly, for once, was not prying too much into her personal life.

At least, not at first.

“So, sister mine,” said Y’mhitra conversationally as she poured Y’shtola another cup of tea, “I cannot help but notice that you continue on your trend of being in impossible situations facing unfathomable danger.”

She held a hand up before Y’shtola could offer a rebuttal. “And the star is ever better for it. I wonder, however, if you might not consider my words once more. This latest to hear you describe it was a frightful affair. And in your own words, no less! I am certain you are downplaying certain risks when they might paint you in unflattering light.”

Y’shtola inclined her head at her sister. “I assure you my recounting is ever accurate.”

“Perhaps so. But might you once more consider the advantages of sharing your considerable strength with another? I certainly would feel better knowing someone is looking after you in all the ways you yet refuse to look after yourself. I know you are strong, and you need not have me tell you so. But as the threats you face seem to grow ever greater, I wish you would join your strength with another.”

“A singular argument you oft have returned to over these many years, Mhitra.”

“In much the same way you keep being drawn to such great troubles, Shtola.”

Y’shtola stirred her tea thoughtfully for a moment, as she pondered her sisters’ words. Thancred for his part seemed to be staying out of it, politely drinking his ale and conveniently hiding his face behind the brim of his mug at the same time.

But at last, she set her cup down, to look her sister in the eye.

“…you are not wholly wrong,” she admitted.

Y’mhitra blinked, and Y’shtola resisted the urge to smirk at her sister’s surprise. “There is someone, then?”

“Many someones, if you must know,” said Y’shtola. She sighed, and waved a hand at Y’mhitra’s disappointed expression. “’Tis not what you meant, I know. But whilst I continue to keep my own counsel, I do find myself more often heeding the counsel of others these days. And you were right, though perhaps not in the way you meant. What I mean is… that I have learned. To share my strength, as you say. And to accept strength in return.”

She looked down into her cup and smiled at the many memories. “I feel that it was on the First that I truly learned what it was to be part of a community, to share and share strength alike - and more. I recognize now, that before, I ever kept myself at arm’s length, isolated from my fellow Scions. But after, well. Separated by the rift though I am from that clan, I fair feel our bonds are ever intact. Hence my efforts to find a way back, to keep a promise I made. And my bonds with my fellow Scions are so ever stronger for the lesson.”

Y’shtola held her cup up to Thancred in salute, and he bowed his head and held his mug up in return.

“These bond are made ever stronger in our travails. I would lean on any one of them as I would myself, and you are right. We are stronger for it.”

Y’shtola thought of Zoissette, and felt herself smile. “And others, aside. I am in good enough company, sister.”

Y’mhitra sighed. “That is all well and good, and it does truly reassure me to hear this change in you. But still. I wish you would find a partner. Someone who does not just shares their strength with you, but complements you. Someone with who perhaps you would find the sum to be greater than its parts. Someone special. Thancred, you agree with me, right?”

Thancred had been watching the exchange between the sisters with fascinated interest, but Y’mhitra caught him while he was taking another pull off his ale, and he near choked on it. Y’shtola raised an eyebrow at him as he spent some few moments coughing and spluttering before he cleared his throat

“Ah, I think you may have mistaken your choice of ally in this fight, Y’mhitra, and I believe I will be finding myself staying well out of it. Y’shtola shall do as she wills, and none can convince her otherwise. I know I won’t try to do so, as I rather enjoy having all my bits attached.”

Y’shtola looked to Y’mhitra, tilting her head at her.

“Unlike you to miscalculate so badly, dear sister,” she said. “What are you playing at?”

Y’mhitra looked desperately at Thancred, but he just shook his head. She slumped, and Y’shtola laughed at her sister’s misfortune.

“Or perhaps I have overestimated,” said Y’shtola. “Well. ’Tis of no matter. This has been a most pleasant afternoon, but I find I wish to return to my work. If you both will excuse me.”

Y’shtola placed enough Gil on the table to cover her costs, before giving the table a wave as she left. Y’mhitra looked after her, dismayed, while Thancred looked on, rather more amused.

However, once she passed out of sight, Y’mhitra turned to Thancred with a faint smile.

“Thanks for the help,” she said.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, picking up his ale once more. “Seriously, don’t, I could deal without her being mad about it later if she ever finds out about this little ruse.”

“Have to give her a victory or else she’ll get too stubborn to overcome,” said Y’mhitra, standing up and cleaning up after herself. “She really has changed over the summers, hasn’t she?”

Thancred shrugged. “We all have. I guess maybe I hadn’t noticed as much as I might, being right there alongside her for much of it… but now that it’s been pointed out rather explicitly, yes, I suppose what she said is true. I think she’s definitely more open than she used to be. Definitely closer with some of us. Not like that, though, before you get any ideas.”

“I have a rather specific idea, thank you very much. Still. This is a good start.”

“Think it’ll work?” asked Thancred.

Y’mhitra just smiled.

~*~

Zoissette was busy in the vehicle bay, plotting launch schedules and scheduling time for making more components on the fabricator. She could hear the comings and goings of others, but mostly ignored them. If someone wanted her attention, she would make time for them, but for now, her work was a pleasant enough distraction.

A loud boisterous voice called out from behind her.

“Hoi, Zoi!” it bellowed.

“Hullo, Ryss,” said Zoissette, not yet fully paying attention. She reached up to try to tap the rim of her glasses, but stopped her hand in time before she had a chance to thwap herself in the nose yet again. Not having them was taking some getting used to, but replacing them was going to be a project in and of itself.

She should finally buckle down and do that.

While she was musing, Ryss had come to hover nearby, looking over her shoulder. “Hey, got a moment?”

Zoissette looked over the console. Well, nothing was very urgent.

“Sure, Ryss. What is on your mind?”

Ryss looked at her thoughtfully, rubbing her chin.

“You’ve been keeping yourself awful busy lately.”

“There is an awful lot to do.”

“There’s -always- an awful lot to do, and you’ve been trying to do it all ever since you broke up with Mathye.”

Ryss had never been one to beat around the proverbial bush. Zoissette grimaced, and turned back to the vehicle control console.

“Girl, I’m not saying you have to get over him immediately, but you don’t have to keep beating yourself up about it, either.”

“I am not ‘beating myself up’,” said Zoissette.

Ryss let the silence stretch for a bit.

“You said you were in love with someone else,” she ventured.

“I said I thought I was in love with another. I say a lot of stupid things.”

“Now you’re definitely beating yourself up.”

Zoissette just looked askance at Ryss.

“Alright, fine, I’ll bite,” said Ryss. “Why d’you think it’s stupid?”

Zoissette fell silent, letting her fingers dance over the console controls. Ryss patiently allowed the silence to settle in for as long as it would take, and Zoissette at last turned the machine off. She turned to her friend, and looked up at her for a moment, before turning away again.

“Ryss,” she said quietly, looking at the floor, “I am not even sure I know what love is.”

“Oh, Zoi,” began Ryss.

“No, I am serious, Ryss. I understand what lust is well enough, I understand what the rush of hormones feels like, but that - I do not think that is love, that is just, well, a desire to swive, and fades fast. So that is not it. And I have read the storytales, of love fathoms deep, of a deep abiding desire or draw or … something. Of people saying things like, like, they would die for one another. Is that love? If so, then I love pretty much everyone. I would die for any one of you, Ryss, but that seems too easy, too… well. That is just the duty of a knight.”

“Maybe the duty of a knight is to love the world,” said Ryss mildly.

Zoissette paused.

“I think about that a lot, and have reached the same conclusion,” she said. ”But that is not the kind of love one builds a bonding out of. I just do not know. I … I remember, being told as a child, that love would grow where you tended it, like a garden. But do you know how many seeds I have planted? Relationships begun, and tended to, waiting for that love to grow. Hoping desperately for it to grow. To feel whatever it is that everyone else is feeling. To be something for someone like that.”

Zoissette threw her hands out to the side. “And I like plenty of people, Ryss, but like is not love, and I do not know what I am doing wrong, and I certainly do not know why I said such a foolish thing. I … I could have made it work. I should have been able to make it work! Mathye is a good man. And even without love, I would have been a good partner, and maybe we could have grown a love eventually.”

“And instead you’re down here in the vehicle bay punishing yourself for not being able to meet some metaphor that you don’t even know is right?”

“And instead I am down here in the vehicle bay where I can at least be useful in a way that makes sense and can be measured. Quantified.” said Zoissette.

“Hey. Hey. Look at me, girlfriend.”

Zoissette did not turn her head, but her eyes did find their way to Ryss’ face, which was good enough.

Ryss rested a hand on her shoulder. “You say you don’t know what love is, but I’m willing to bet you do. You just haven’t figured it out for yourself yet, but you’re smart like that. Never rushing into stuff before it’s time. But I gotta ask, how are you going to figure it out like this from down here?”

She smiled at her. “So you said you might love someone else. Wouldn’t it be worth finding out for sure?”

Zoissette did not respond immediately. But after a moment, there was a small smile on her face, a genuine smile.

She seemed to have more of those these days, despite everything.

“Maybe,” she said.

“Good enough for me,” said Ryss. “Hey, we can talk more about it later, alright? Wanna do lunch later?”

“Sure,” said Zoissette, powering the vehicle control console back on. Ryss took the hint, and waved as she headed out of the workshop.

~*~

Ryss and Apple met Y’mhitra and Thancred at a small eatery in New Gridania.

“I really wish I was not part of this little conspiracy,” groused Thancred.

“Rather too late for it now; you’re trapped,” said Y’mhitra, winking at him. He just groaned in response. “How did it go with you two?”

“I think she’ll be open to the idea,” said Ryss. “Just gotta arrange things so she doesn’t have a good reason to say no.”

Apple nodded thoughtfully. “If we can figure out a place, we can pick a time, and I can tie up the fabricator. They both spent a lot of time in Limsa, it’s very important to all of us. I’m thinking the Bismarck, or maybe the Missing Member - their chef won that one competition a few years back, right? Should be just as good if not better!”

Ryss shook her head. “Not the Missing Member. That particular cook you’re thinking of went on a star tour and I don’t think he’s returned yet.”

“Bismarck, then,” said Apple, looking thoughtful. “I’ll check their bookings and get back to you.”

“What about your side?” asked Ryss.

“She thinks she’s won the first round,” said Y’mhitra. “It’ll just be a matter of convincing her when the time comes. She certainly seems to have enough time on her hands, if I can just convince her to walk away from the Forum for a bit. And whatever mystery hobby project she’s up to.”

“I can help there,” volunteered Thancred. “It’s not any real mystery, you just don’t recognize what she’s working on. She’s fixing Zoissette’s glasses.”

“Oh, that sure is nice of her!” said Apple. “Zoissette keeps hitting herself in the nose.”

Y’mhitra looked at her questioningly, but Ryss responded. “Zoissette keeps the things loaded down with enough enchantments to choke a three-headed goobbue.”

“Well, in any case, I think this all bodes rather well for your scheming,” said Thancred.

“Indeed,” said Y’mhitra. “Well, once Apple gets us some dates, I think we can move to the next phase of our plan.”

“This is still rather too much cloak and dagger for my taste,” said Thancred.

“That’s rich, coming from you,” said Y’mhitra.

Ryss waved her hands. “Now, now. If those two had any chance of figuring this out themselves, they would’ve done so by now. We’re just letting out the sails a little to help them get out of their own way, that’s all.”

Thancred just shrugged, and Y’mhitra nodded. “Well. I think we know what each of us needs to do. Keep one another posted.”

“Right.” “Okay!” “Sure.”

Their conversation moved on to other topics while they continued their lunch.

~*~

She had already known that moving the enchantments over to encompass the new lens was going to be difficult, but even in that, it seemed that she had underestimated the work, and underestimated Zoissette, and possibly even overestimated her own capabilities.

Her unique sight gave her a special insight into aether, it was true, but the magicks woven throughout the glasses could not be explained by mere aetheric observation alone. The intricate weaving spoke to Zoissette’s deep mastery of Nymian mathematics and beyond. Feedback loops, unusual geometries, all leading to complex and deep combinatorics.

She practically had to move the spell works over mote by minute aetheric mote, checking as she went along, making sure nothing was lost.

A puzzle. A challenge.

It would be worthwhile, she decided, to make this a gift unto her friend.

A knock at the door went ignored. But as it persisted, she sighed. “You may enter,” she called out, setting the glasses down for a moment. She could probably use a break, anyroad, if she were honest with herself.

She smiled at Y’mhitra as her sister walked in. “Did we not have lunch a mere sennight ago? I was not aware you found me such good company. I promise I have not found any trouble in such a short span.”

“You are trouble enough left to your own devices, I should think. Thancred tells me you’ve barely left this room.”

“My report to the Forum must needs be exacting. I shall leave out no detail, no matter how minor I may think it. For if travel between the shards is to one day become a reality, then we would all do well to face it with as much preparation and knowledge as we can muster.”

“And I don’t disagree, but this can’t be good for you. All work and no play makes my sister an isolated old hermit rather too much like her former master.”

“I would hear you say that to her yourself.”

“I think not! Still. I think you could tolerate a day off from this drudgery. A day off, and around people, not mammets and books. What say you, Shtola?”

Well, she had been working fair hard for some days. And indeed, she was not quite sure when she had last sought company. Surely more recently than last sennight’s luncheon.

Maybe not.

“Let us say that I agree with you. Whatsoever are you planning?”

“Well… I was thinking … maybe you could go out on a date.”

Y’shtola looked at her sister incredulously. “Again with this? But my my, what an imagination you have if you think I have any potential candidates for such just now. Or have the rumors of supposed flirtations with voidsent fully taken on such life of their own as to reach my sister’s ears?”

“A blind date.”

At this, Y’shtola felt her expression and ears go flat.

“Certainly not.”

“Oh, come on, Shtola. Might be fun.”

“And whomst have you picked out for me?”

Y’mhitra just smiled at her, and Y’shtola shook her head. “You are still yet young to be able to still entertain such flights of fancy. I am rather busy, and I think I shall not be making time in my schedule for such frivolity.”

“Frivolity is the point, Y’shtola. Get out. Have some fun. Entertain a new face. Practice your famously sharp wit on them, I know that is a favourite pastime of yours. A decent night out, perhaps get a good meal out of it, have a good time, and for the love of the gods, actually get out of your room for a reason besides flinging yourself bodily into harm once more.”

“I think too much more of this conversation and I shall be flinging myself heartily back into my work.”

Y’mhitra tapped her knuckles against her chin, tilting her head as she looked thoughtfully at Y’shtola.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

“I am certain you have naught with which to bargain.”

“Do this for me, and I’ll leave you alone for a season.”

“As though you can resist the urge to meddle in my affairs.”

“Y’shtola,” said Y’mhitra, and Y’shtola took notice of the sudden change in formality. “We are women not only of the Jaguar tribe, but daughters of Rhul. Our word is as good as bond, for we could be no other way. And I, your sister, am worried about you. You grow older and wiser and you have your allies - for now. But you are not getting any younger, and I would not see my sister become another Matoya, as wise and capable as she is, all alone in a cave. Do this for me, and I give you my word, I shall not breath a word of finding you companionship for a season.”

Y’shtola desperately wished to go back to her work, but while she could match and usually exceed her sister’s stubbornness, it would mean time and effort she did not wish to spare just this moment.

And the offer was a tempting one. To not be pestered with such nonsense for a time. Though of course, Y’mhitra’s offer was, purposefully, a low one.

“Offer me one summer of such respite, and I shall -consider- your words.”

“Two seasons.”

“One summer, or I shall stay in my little room, blessedly alone, continuing my important work, and shall delight in frustrating your efforts the entire time.”

“…fine,” said Y’mhitra, scowling. “I would leave the matter closed for one summer, but if and only if you put forth a good faith effort. You never have to see them again, but see them the once, at least.”

“If I say that I shall take the matter under due consideration, will you let me return to my work?”

“Gladly.”

“Fine. Then I consider the matter settled for now.”

“Alright, but if I do not have your answer in a sennight, I am coming back,” said Y’mhitra. “And I will be bringing others with me. I am not the only one that worries, you know.”

“I am certain,” said Y’shtola, dryly. “Why, with so many worrying after me rather than themselves, it is little wonder that I ever feel in danger at all. Perhaps all this worry can summon a primal to keep me company.”

“Very funny, Shtola.”

“Now, if you don’t mind…”

“One sennight, and then I am coming for you.”

Y’shtola just waved a hand in the air as Y’mhitra left, and sighed.

~*~

Ryss was keeping an eye on Zoissette, without looking like she was keeping an eye on Zoissette.

She was worried about her, and wondered idly if this was what it was like to be Zoissette all the time. She had long been a confidant to the Elezen, after all, and Zoissette had frequently confessed her various worries about others to her. About Klynt and Apple, and whether or not they were being fulfilled by their work and reaching their potential as much as they wanted. Worrying about Meya and Erick, and hoping their relationship was well. Worrying about her brother, hoping his life in Ishgard was continuing to treat him well. Worrying about Riven and Astrid. Worrying about Mathye and whether she was doing right by him. Worrying about Thalia and her weird shyness around training with Augustine.

She did not complain much, and she often kept her true feelings tight to herself, but she did seem to worry a lot, and now here Ryss was, worrying about Zoissette.

Well, if this worked, then all would be well again. In a far corner of the workshop, where she could not be heard, Ryss saw Apple take a linkpearl call. Apple nodded a few times, before lifting her head, facing Ryss, and waving to try to get her attention.

So much for subtlety, but if Zoissette noticed, she wasn’t paying it much mind. Ryss sighed and waved back, and Apple gave her a thumbs-up.

If she was reading the situation correctly, that meant Y’mhitra had just called in, and with good news.

It was time to move in. Ryss ambled over to where Zoissette was.

“Say, Zoi, I had a thought.”

Zoissette did not look up from her work. “Hopefully more than the one, since that is what we get paid for.”

“Say, Zoi, I had a -lot- of thoughts.”

“Oh very good. I suppose you wish to share some?”

“Yeah. S’about what we talked about the other day.”

“I still think the merits of the Nymian systems of measurement shall rule out over the current standards one day.”

“…not about that.”

“Oh! Well, I had thought the matter settled, but I am open to suggestions.”

“Not that either! … wait no actually I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What we should get for the tea tin.”

“Oh. Oh, no, not that, either. Wait. Since you brought it up I think that we should get honey now that we’re here in Gridania. I hear they have the best honey.”

Zoissette lifted her head up to yell. “Apple! Add Gridanian honey to the supply list!”

“Okay!”

“Alright, but still not that either,” said Ryss, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m talking about love.”

There had been a few changes in Zoissette’s demeanor since she had returned from the events of the laboratory incident. One of them was that while before her face had often had an aloof expression of Ishgardian politeness, now it seemed that every emotion she had danced across her face at the slightest prompting.

Like just now, as she passed through several expressions so fast that Ryss blinked and missed a few.

“I do not know that there is much more to talk about there, Ryss.”

Well. The Ishgardian stoicism may have been gone, but the person behind it was still the same.

“Girl, look, you’re sitting down here thinking about it when you should be out there doing something about it. You gotta get back in the saddle! We gotta get you out there! And most importantly of all…”

Ryss trailed off for dramatic effect. When the silence began to stretch into the awkward, she nudged Zoissette in the shoulder.

Zoissette just looked flatly at her, and she threw up her hands.

“Fine, I’ll just say it. You need practice! Science demands research, Zoissette!”

Zoissette continued to look flatly at her, but then after a moment, she cracked a smiled and laughed, and Ryss knew she had her.

“Alright, fine, what do you have in mind.”

“Dating. Get out! Meet people!”

“I am not inclined to inflict myself on anyone else just yet, Ryss.”

“Whatever, you’re a delight, you just haven’t found the right person yet. And how are you gonna find them if you’re not willing to search a bit?”

Zoissette just shook her head. “I’ve not the social calendar to be a gadfly and sort through potentials just to inevitably be letting them all down.”

“Letting them down? I’m not talking about courting, Zoissette. Dating! Just dating. Casual meet ups. Lunches that don’t have to go anywhere, dinners that are just for fun. Practice for when you’re ready to go looking for the one. And if you don’t like ‘em, you can just tell them no thank you, no hard feelings, and be on your way. You can tell people no, right?”

“I tell people no all the time, Ryss. Like every time Erick tries to sneak a trebuchet into the fabricator’s planning schedule. When Aeryn starts to get that look in her eyes that tells me that she’s thinking of chasing something over the horizon again. Or when my friend tries to tell me that me dating is a good idea.”

“Aw, come on, Zoi. Science demands sample sizes!”

“I thought it demanded research?”

“Which can be done through…” said Ryss, making a ‘go on’ gesture with her hands.

Zoissette just looked at her with a small smile, then let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Tell you what. Say yes, and I’ll even do all the hard work. Get you dolled up, find you a nice place to eat, pick out someone for you to get you started. Call it a blind date. It’ll be fun!”

“I will think about it, Ryss.”

“Good enough for now!”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Apple give her a thumbs up, and she resisted the urge to facepalm. Fortunately, Zoissette didn’t seem to notice.

~*~

“I am not at all sure what has gotten into my sister lately,” said Y’shtola to Thancred. She was certain she was on the last bit of work needed to restore Zoissette’s glasses fully, but needed a break, and had elected to make time for tea with her fellow Scion. “She has always worried after me and been quite insistent on meddling in my personal affairs, but her efforts have rather increased as of late.”

Thancred shrugged. “Maybe she just thinks it’s a good time. It’s quiet in our collective lives. For once. Interrupting your report writing for the Forum is certainly better than trying to divert your attention while we are trying once more to save the star from something or another.”

Y’shtola just sighed. “I don’t imagine you have any insights as to what she may be planning after her little attempt to rope you in over lunch the other day.”

“Well of course I do,” said Thancred. “She’s been coming to me.”

Y’shtola set her tea down, and glared at Thancred over it. He shrugged in response.

“To be clear, I do not wholly agree with her,” he said. “After all, I know you well, Shtola. You are an independent woman, of unimpeachable character, with strength enough to rival the star. Indeed, I dare say if more of us had been blessed with the Echo and felt the need to step into the role of being a true Warrior of Light, why, I think none of us would be as well placed to fill the role as… G’raha Tia, naturally, with his long tenure of experience as the Crystal Exarch.”

Y’shtola chuckled, and Thancred gave her a grin before he continued on. “But it would be a close race, and if he was to place second to any of us, I daresay it would be to you. Your sister might make mention of your strength, but I’ve witnessed it. And I will not indulge your ego any further by speaking to your knowledge. But I cannot help but think that the crux of our last discussion was the ways in which you have found the wisdom to applying both, whether by yourself or with allies. So no, I don’t agree with her that you need a partner.”

“Do not think I do not detect the faint whiff of self-deprecation there, Thancred, that you fail to count yourself amongst the more capable of our little group.”

He waved a hand at her. “Perhaps with Urianger to help make up for my shortfall in aether. But never mind that. Y’shtola, I love you like family, and as family, I say, your sister may be wrong in the specifics, but I think she’s right in a broader sense. A partner would suit you. You’re not perfect, despite how often you pretend to be, don’t look at me like that, we’re being honest right now. And if I am to be honest, which I am, I don’t think you need a paramour. But imagine having someone to truly share yourself with. Someone to weather our various trials, side by side, another half. Who understands who you are and what you do and why you do it whole heartedly. Someone who can look at all of this like you do, who understands your point of view, and can match it with theirs. I think the idea has more merit than you are pretending to give it credit for.”

“Truly?”

“Yes, ‘truly’. That is my vaunted insight, if you’ll have it. Maybe let her have her fun. Let this play out. See where it goes. And then you’ll do what you want anyroad.”

Y’shtola was quiet for a moment, and Thancred shrugged.

“If nothing else, it does get you out of your room for a spell. Even if she’s wrong about everything else, you have been working too hard.”

“This from you?”

“Who would know better?”

“Well. I shall certainly not belabor the point,” she said. “I shall consider your counsel, Thancred.”

“Just leave me out of it if you decide to get mad at somebody. Don’t shoot the messenger and all that.”

“I believe I shall be cross with whosoever I wish, should such come to pass,” said Y’shtola archly, and she laughed when Thancred threw up his hands in defeat.

~*~

“I hope that ending my courtship with Mathye has not put your relationship with the Lady Fortemps under any strain,” said Zoissette.

Ement was practically living at Gage Acquisitions for the time being, helping out around the place and keeping an eye on his sister. They made a point of catching up often, and were just now alone in a quiet corner of the workshop where they would not be bothered.

“Riven? Heavens, no. She’s been an utter lady about the whole affair.”

“Good. I am glad,” she said, and Ement watched, as she fidgeted. “I… I told him I thought I loved someone else.”

“So I heard. Anybody I know?”

“…it does not matter.”

“Oh, good. You only ended a courtship over it. One you were trying your very hardest at, as I recall.”

Zoissette gave him a dirty look, and he shrugged back at her. He watched her long enough to see the change when it happened, as she went from stubborn to resigned.

“… it’s Archon Y’shtola.”

“Oh, fantastic taste, and I mean that sincerely. She threatened to turn me into a frog when I made half a pass at her. I love a woman that can ruin my life.”

“Ement.”

“Zoissette. Okay, but really, Sette, you could do worse. I barely know her, but I know she was there when you needed her to be, and every step after. And you’ve certainly prattled on enough about her to me. Wait, did I say I barely know her? With your stories, I think I could tell her life story.”

“You mean like those awful songs you sing at the tavern?”

“Those songs get me drinks.”

Zoissette sighed. “It does not matter. If she was interested, I am certain she would have made that clear long before now. She has not, and, well. Love her or not, I am content to play my part in her story.”

“Might just ask her about it to be sure.”

“I should,” Zoissette conceded. “But what if I am wrong? If she does not love me, that is fine, but what if I do not truly love her? I just… I do not know. I told Sebastian I would try after Heavensturn, but I do not know. And in the meanwhile…”

“In the meanwhile.”

“Ryss thinks I should try dating.”

“Great! Try that out, let me know how it goes.”

“I do not think that I should be dating anyone when I am not certain about the truth of my own heart,” she said.

“Is that what’s going on? Come on, Sette. Look, I get being cagey about approaching her, but you keep saying you’re not sure of the truth. Not sure of the truth? I’ve never known anyone in my life more obsessive about the truth. Say it with me. What’s the first duty?”

“… to the truth.”

“To the truth. Face her, face it, and find out the truth. Or don’t. I know it’s not like you to rush in, and you like to sit and think about things entirely too much. So, hey. Tell you what, here’s an idea. Keep doing that. And in the meanwhile, put yourself out there.”

“Put myself out where?”

“Dating. Going out. And, since I’m not out of good advice just yet, here’s some more. Forget about whoever you meet. Stop trying to be the perfect shape to fit them. Find out if they can be a shape to fit you. What I’m trying to say, is go out and get some practice being yourself. I’ve known you your entire life, Zoissette, and what you are truly in love with is making yourself miserable to be what everyone else needs you to be. And when you’re not doing that, you love to pretend you don’t exist, and it almost got you killed. Well, stop it.”

Ement was looking at her, and for once, his usual jocularity was entirely missing. Zoissette felt herself sitting up a little straighter, looking back at him square on, and meeting him where he was.

One dutiful child of Ishgard to another.

“Your self assigned duty is to the truth. So stop living so many lies.”

Zoissette felt her eyes watering, and she reached up to wipe them away with the back of a hand, and she nodded. She took a deep breath in, and she straightened her shoulders and stiffened her back, and she nodded.

“And there we are,” said Ement, relaxing back, reaching down a hand to fiddle with his rebreather, letting out a sigh of relief as he increased the airflow feed.

“Thank you,” said Zoissette.

“What are older brothers for, if not dispensing sage wisdom that they’ll never need or follow?” he said, his humor back, and the edges of her lips twitched. She closed her eyes to keep the tears away, and let herself laugh.

~*~

“Okay so it’s not so important what she wears, so long as she’s comfortable in it, gonna ask if Meya can help.”

“Oh! Maybe I should drive them both in a chocobo carriage! That’s romantic!”

“Right. So, I just linkpearled Klynt, and I told her everything that’s going on to get her advice, but all that happened is she laughed so hard she disconnected, and I’m choosing to take that as a good sign.”

“Now that she’s agreed to our deal, she’s not like to renege on it, but we still must needs be certain to not give her a reason to cancel.”

“Didja happen to get us tickets to be off the continent when they meet? I’d like to live to next summer.”

“I’ve fully booked the fabricator on these days! And I’ll ask around to make sure all the leves get filled, too!”

Ement and Thancred watched with some level of detached amusement and bafflement as the others dashed around making last minute adjustments to their master plan.

“You want to know the really funny bit?” asked Ement.

“Hmn?”

“This could all probably be upended with a five minute conversation.”

“What, and deny them their fun? Perish the thought.”

They continued to watch as the plans were fully assembled.

“At least Y’shtola’s not like to blame me for this mess,” said Thancred, and Ement just grinned at him.

~*~

There. Her work was near finished.

All she had left was to finish checking those enchantments that she could. Overall, she was quite pleased with herself. Without knowing the depths of Zoissette’s various magical disciplines, she had, nevertheless, managed what should have been an impossible task. The glasses were repaired, and the enchantments were restored. No matter how complex or tricky they had been, a look at their aether showed that they had been perfectly preserved, and now only wanted for their owner.

She could not check all of the enchantments, but those that she could, she had carefully been examining for the last bell. She had some time before Y’mhitra would show up to escort her to her arranged date, and she wished to see the work through.

As she reviewed them, she found herself smiling, as many of them brought back memories of her various adventures alongside Zoissette. The glasses were a useful tool, and Zoissette oft used their many capabilities to study aether, detect the positions of magitek in the field, get a closer look at some creature from far away, and more. Zoissette was inventive and clever, and that cleverness was reflected in the complexities of every enchantment, every decision that had been made in the manufacture of her glasses.

And the enchantments formed a history. Recent ones were fairly complex, with interlocking functionality, but they grew simpler as Y’shtola checked older ones, until she began to came across those that any beginner to the art may’ve created. Why they were still present, Y’shtola was not certain, but she checked them as well. An indicator for aetheric aspects. A range finder spell. A magnification function. And then, at last, she came to the final enchantment she could check. It was not quite as simple as many of the ones of similar age, requiring more than a novice’s knowledge. It seemed to form a method for storing images that had been drawn with aetheric ink.

She gave it a pulse of aether to bring it to life.

An image flared up on the lenses, and Y’shtola felt as though the world had come to a sudden stop. She was full certain that she was not, could not, be seeing the image that was now projected onto the lens.

It was a simple enough image.

It was comprised of two sketches. The first was the outline of a kite shield, drawn in blue. And the second existed in the middle of that shield, a shape that was most familiar to Y’shtola, drawn in red.

The witch’s wand, drawn to be the standard on a shieldmaiden’s shield. The full composition had been drawn by two children in Sharlayan, over twenty summers ago, and inscribed for posterity in the very enchantment she had just restored.

~*~

Zoissette felt bewildered and more than a little overwhelmed.

She had decided, ultimately, to take Ryss up on her offer to go on a blind date. If she just set aside her feelings for a moment, it promised to have the potential to be fun. She could just go out. Without a care in the world. Whatever happened, happened. At least she would not be screwing up another courtship. And there were no expectations of her. Just show up. Right. Just be herself. Right. Get some practice being out in public. Right. No disasters, no being unintentionally off-putting, no weirdness, just act normal.

Right. Learn how everyone else did this kind of thing.

She took a deep breath in. Her friends had been trying very, very hard to make sure this would be a nice night for her. Apple had taken over her responsibilities for the night. Klynt was away, that was fine, she was in training. Dark had seemed very amused when she had asked for her shift change, but had allowed it.

Meya and Ryss had helped her pick an outfit, something with colors that supposedly complemented her complexion. And something, Ryss had stressed, she would be comfortable in. She had tried her hand at wearing the latest fashions before, but this time, something simpler. Something more her. Lots of pockets. Very comfortable boots. A nice overcoat. She already had moved several journals in and out of their pouches, unable to decide whether to leave them behind or not. It would be rude if she brought them out in the middle of doing something else.

She absolutely had to do this. She absolutely should not do this. It was not too late to beg out. Probabilities and possibilities coalesced in her mind. Different paths and different outcomes. Infinite possibilities in infinite permutations. Each thought a note, each note a noise. A cacophony. A discordance. A swell, thoughts running over and into one another, like an entire musical orchestra all playing every note on every instrument all at once, overlapping, overwhelming.

Zoissette was moving mechanically, now. Almost on autopilot. She knew Ryss would be here soon. To pick her up. To take her to this blind date. All she had to do was be dressed by then. Put her hair up. Use the bow that Ameliance taught her how to make. She liked that. Kept her hair out of her face. Reach for her glasses except they were not there and she really missed them just now.

She looked mournfully at the spot where they were supposed to be, and looked at herself in the vanity, and second and third guessed herself.

But this was a good idea. This was a good thing. Ryss meant well.

She glanced to the single earring on the vanity, one which she wore nigh continuously. A gift from Y’shtola, meant to symbolize their deep friendship. Two black carnations, with two tiny silver threads holding two beautiful pearls. She should leave it behind, she thought.

But then she reached out and touched her fingers to it, and memories came to her, and the noise in her mind seemed to recede of its own volition, quieting, becoming a single solitary thread, a melody carried by a single note.

She looked at it, and time seemed to slow, to allow her to stay in a gentle moment.

~*~

The shieldmaiden.

Y’shtola set the glasses down in disbelief.

My, how she had grown.

The shieldmaiden had been young, her complexion darker, and her build had been wiry. She had been awkward, someone who had not yet grown fully into their height, and when she had first seen her, why, Y’shtola was not sure if she was dealing with a young man or a young woman. Her hair had been shorter back then as well, and her mouth too wide for her face.

Zoissette Vauban.

She had not known her name at the time, due to a singularly foolish game they had played at, but Y’shtola reached down and tilted the glasses up to look again, and there was no mistaking it.

Her one time companion in mischief, and she had returned to her life for full on many summers now.

Ser Zoissette de Vauban of Ishgard, noble, knight, warrior.

Shieldmaid.

She was quieter, now. The shieldmaiden had been boisterous and chatty, stumbling over her words, exuberant and full of energy and that awkward smile. Just… like Zoissette could be, when she got excited about something, when she lowered her guard long enough to truly let herself be free. The awkward smile had been replaced with a somewhat distant and vaguely polite one, but nevertheless.

They were both insatiably curious. They were both willing to put themselves in harm’s way for others. Both were honest in that sort of way that demonstrated that they knew no other way to be.

Their eyes always searching out truth. Their heart always finding the good in the world. Their shield arm always strong, to protect any who were in need. Foolish and brilliant and that was her Zoissette, her shieldmaiden grown into shieldmaid, her friend.

Zoissette could be foolish at times, it was true, but it was the foolishness borne out of a most earnest desire to do the right thing. Even when they had their differences, and such happened often, Y’shtola still felt a great fondness for her. That she could hold her own against Y’shtola’s intellect was endearing, not off-putting. And truly, her feelings were more than just fondness.

She had changed from the young girl who she had remembered, true, but what was more important was the many ways in which she had stayed the same. She had grown up into a fine woman, possibly the finest that Y’shtola had ever known, the obvious result of a lifetime of lessons hard learned, but the core of who she was, well.

It had stayed the same. After all these years, she felt as though she recognized her, fully, now. Seeing her in a way that she had never allowed herself to see her before.

What a fool Y’shtola could be.

~*~

Zoissette sat down at the vanity, picking up the earring, and rubbing her thumb gently across the petals of its flowers, careful to not disturb them any more than was necessary for enjoying the sensation of touching them.

Y’shtola had always had that affect on her, had she not? A calming influence in a chaotic life. She had been there from near the start of Zoissette’s misadventures upon arriving in Eorzea, and she had been by the woman’s side ever since, sometimes leading, often following.

She was a lodestone, an anchor, and Zoissette never had to put on any pretense for her. When she prattled on excitedly about some new discovery or deep recollection of a beloved topic, Y’shtola had always listened with patience. When she outlined some stratagem, Y’shtola was often the first to see it. When there was some challenge to overcome, Y’shtola was always quick to stand by her side to face it. When something needed to be done, well, Zoissette and Y’shtola were the kind of women to do it.

When the world was noise and chaos, Y’shtola was a powerful quiet in it, her courage and steadfastness as stable as they came. She could be short with people, and she was famous for her sharp tongue, but Zoissette knew what few people did, that it was a tool for cutting not to the quick, but to the truth. Y’shtola did what honesty demanded, and Zoissette always respected her for that.

And now, Zoissette knew she had to do what honesty demanded of her.

~*~

Y’shtola curled her hands around the glasses, and she smiled. Her heart felt light. It was as though the clouds were parting after the rain, and she could see the majesty of the history she full shared with Zoissette.

She gingerly picked up the glasses, releasing the aether keeping the enchantment going, and closed them upon themselves, tucking them away, to keep on her until she could see them safely back to their owner.

And when she did so, they would have something new to talk about. Their shared past.

And perhaps, a shared future.

~*~

Zoissette picked up the earrings, and slowly, almost reverently, put them on. She looked at herself in the mirror as she did so.

The truth. The truth was, she loved Y’shtola. And she had loved her for a very long time.

And the earrings were a reminder, of sorts, that she had always known that, hadn’t she? The world was an often confusing place, and she often felt like she would never be part of the shared human experience, like an outsider, looking in, but Y’shtola never made her feel that way. Even in her sharp moments, Y’shtola was always inviting her in, offering her wisdom, showing her truths and knowledge.

Zoissette felt fear and uncertainty become replaced with resolve.

~*~

Well, in any situation, these were truths that could be faced later, matters that would hold for one more day. For now, however.

Y’shtola Rhul looked herself over in the mirror one last time, and satisfied with what she saw there, headed out to satisfy her sister’s need to meddle. That it might not matter shortly did not matter. Y’shtola was a woman of her word, and she would keep it.

Zoissette Vauban checked everything one last time. Pens and journals and tools secure in any of a number of pouches and pockets. She nodded, and headed out. Regardless of any personal revelations, Ryss had set this up as a favor to her, and she would not let the woman down.

Besides, thought Y’shtola, as teleporting magicks gathered around her, if her company for the night turned out to be a boor, she could simply tease her sister for her poor planning and foresight for the foreseeable future. But she would tolerate this evening well enough. And then, after, she would go visit her dear friend, and that, she looked forward to with relish.

And anyroad, there would be no real consequences for this, would there be? With the earring, it would be as though Y’shtola was there with her, and Zoissette felt a bit of light giddiness as she decided that perhaps she could just regale her would-be date with her research. If they enjoyed it, then she would happily share, and if not, then so what? She could be a boor for once in her life with little real consequence, and she could share an amusing story with Ryss, and Ryss would bear the burden of having such an awkward friend with good humour. And then, after this, she would speak to Y’shtola, at long last.

Conversations, perhaps, overdue. But first.

~*~

It was a clear night in Limsa Lominsa. The sun had sunk down over the horizon some bells past, and now the stars were out, sharing their light with the ocean below them. As one looked out past the tide gates, the twinkling of lights reflected in the waves met the twinkling of the light shining from the stars, and at the horizon, it seemed almost as if ocean and night sky were one, seeming almost to be a way to glimpse into infinity.

The Bismarck was famous not just for its food, but for the ambience it provided, the view over the starry ocean accessible from its balconies, the open kitchen ensuring its smells were shared with all. The noise of the fires in the kitchen met the sound of the ocean waves crashing far below, and tonight, the two sounds met and intermixed to form a deep whisper that seemed fit to speak to the very soul of those diners fortunate enough to meet there this night.

One of the hostesses led Y’shtola on a path past the other diners to reach one of the higher up balconies. As they arrived, the hostess bowed, and politely went on her way, leaving Y’shtola to take the last several steps herself. A table for two had been set up, and none else. A private spot, with someone already there, seeming to be looking out over the bay.

Y’shtola walked up the steps, and as she got closer, she slowed, as she recognized that outline. Broad shoulders, appropriate for a knight. Tall, even for an Elezen. Hair in a ponytail held in place by a neatly tied large black bow. A familiar set of earrings hung from one ear.

And her aether, still that calming shade, fair brimming with a power that was belied the potential of its depths, hugging her outline, tightly controlled. A faint glow that Y’shtola had come to find comforting, over the many summers she had known it.

She felt a flash of annoyance. Her sister was going to be insufferable, and she was going to skin her alive.

It evaporated nearly immediately though, and she laughed at herself. How upset could she be? Her sister had merely lead her to conclusions she had already full reached herself. Let her sister think herself clever; the benefits would be hers to have.

She climbed the stairs, and the other woman heard her as she approached.

Zoissette turned to face her, and oh gods, how had she not realised the connection earlier. Her eyes, in any sight, held kindness enough for the star, even as they darted across Y’shtola in confusion as a frown creased her forehead

“Shtola?” said Zoissette, surprised. “What are you doing here? Uhm, I mean, not that I mind. It’s just, it is just, well, uhm, unexpected. I am supposed to be meeting someone here shortly, they are not here yet…”

Her voice trailed off as Y’shtola reached a hand out towards her. “Hello, Sette,” she said. Zoissette only paused a moment before taking her hand in hers, and oh, the levin rumble at her touch, fair tingling her fingers.

“…hi,” said Zoissette, feeling a bit light headed and breathless. She was ready to confess her feelings to Y’shtola, but had not expected to need to do so tonight. She could feel the noise beginning to rise again, but as she looked at the soft smile on Y’shtola’s face, she calmed. There was surely a rationale for what was going on right now. She would solve this mystery, and then tackle that question.

And the answer was obvious, really. Zoissette squeezed her eyes shut and groaned.

“Ryss set this up,” she said.

“Ryss and my sister both,” replied Y’shtola.

“I am so, so sorry.”

“I find that I am not.”

Zoissette took a deep breath in, and let it out, and when she opened her eyes again, Y’shtola was looking up at her with that mischievous smile, and a wicked glint to her eye. As full of confidence and poise as ever. Y’shtola could meet any situation, and oh gods, Zoissette would meet the challenges of life with her forever more if she could help it.

“I believe I have an idea that will allow us to make the most of this,” said Y’shtola, leading Zoissette by the hand to her seat. Bemused but willing, Zoissette sat down, just watching Y’shtola curiously as she went to go stand by the railing and look out over the bay.

She was not a tall woman, not by Miqo’te standards, and certainly not by Elezen ones. But despite that, her posture, her poise, all made her seem so much larger than she was. She was such a strong woman. The very figure of a wise and powerful sorceress. Many found her intimidating, as they should. Zoissette found her beautiful, especially now, silhouetted by night sky, a sea breeze ruffling her dress and somehow highlighting her figure.

Y’shtola turned away from the bay slightly, and their eyes met, and oh, Zoissette wanted the moment to last forever. Just the two of them. Or to grasp the moment and make the most of it, to confess, and let whatever may be happen.

But first.

“I have a storytale I would share with you,” said Y’shtola, as she began to pace slowly to come around the table, one foot solidly in front of the other. “Perhaps you are familiar with it. It deals with the shieldmaiden of your history, and takes place, I think, not so long ago, and not so far away.”

Zoissette just watched her, uncertain where the conversation was going, but curious all the same.

“The shieldmaiden left her home, I believe it goes,” Y’shtola continued, “to travel far away. To a land of learning, of wisdom. Of green rolling hills, and of tall white towers, which were said to hold many of the books of the world. Her curiosity would not allow her otherwise, you see; she would seek wisdom, whatever form it might take, and wheresoever it might be.

“And in that place, she was scorned by the witless and set upon by fools. A lesser woman may have been discouraged, but not she. For even in her youth, she had her bravery and her determination, and while she sought no quarrel, she also would not allow herself to be driven away. And it was well, for in this place, she met another young woman, one much like she. Not as strong, perhaps. Wiser, perhaps. It is in that place, she met the witch of this storytale.”

Zoissette frowned. This was not one of the storytales of the shieldmaiden nor of the witch that she was familiar with, and she knew an awful lot of them. However, as she listened to Y’shtola tell her tale, she thought she could feel a certain tug in her memories, a certain sense of familiarity in the tale.

“The two went on many adventures, though perhaps not as many as they might have liked. The shieldmaiden learned of a witch’s magicks and peoples, and the witch learned that the world was perhaps more than she had previously imagined. Alas, fools fell upon them, but with the strength of her heart, and guided by the witch’s hand, they overcame them, not once, at a bridge, not twice, at an atelier, but three times, under the roof of a powerful man.”

Y’shtola’s path had taken her behind Zoissette’s chair, and instead of twisting around to keep her gaze following her, Zoissette just sat and frowned. She was listening very carefully to the story, and there was a piece that would solve this puzzle in it somewhere, she just knew it.

“And in that place, it was neither the wisdom of the witch nor the strength of the shieldmaiden that carried the day. Nay, it was their trust in one another, their unwavering dedication to their truth, and the honesty of their testimony. Thus was it that the fools were thwarted, and the witch and the shieldmaiden won the day.”

Y’shtola had drifted behind the chair now, and came to place her head next to Zoissette’s, her mouth close to her ear, as she dropped her voice to be dark and low, and Zoissette craned her neck to listen to the last of the story.

“Before she left, they stopped where they had began, at the place they had first met. From there, they parted ways, but before they did, they agreed they would meet each other again, some day.”

Y’shtola wrapped her arms around the chair, resting them on Zoissette’s shoulders, and in her hand was a familiar pair of glasses. Zoissette glanced at her briefly before reaching out to take them, noticing that an enchantment had already been activated, and as she looked, the last puzzle piece fell into place.

“I believe I still owe you a boon,” purred Y’shtola into her ear. “If you would have it.”

Zoissette turned her head, and looked deep into Y’shtola’s eyes. A thousand thoughts crossed her mind, but they quickly distilled down to only one.

“I would,” she whispered, and she reached up, placing her hand on the back of Y’shtola’s head, and gently pulled her closer, and they at last met, and fell into one another freely, as their lips met and they kissed.

The stars’s light reflected in the ocean and the ocean’s light met the stars, but that was not the most beautiful sight in Limsa Lominsa that night.

#final fantasy xiv #biot writes #year of the otp #yotp 2023 #blind date #zoissette vauban #ryssthota sundstyrwyn #y'mhitra rhul #y'shtola rhul #ement vauban #thancred waters #apple silverberg #witchshield

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yzeltia · 1 month

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MiqoMarch 2024 Day 1: Introduction [Jaguar Clan]

"Well, I don't believe we were expecting the entire welcome wagon." -Claudien Ft. @driftward 's Zoissette Vauban @healerstail Y'sef Tia (sorta)

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #final fantasy 14 #ff14 #ffxiv oc #ff xiv #ffxiv miqo'te #y'zel tia #y'shtola rhul #claudien #y'mhitra #y'mhitra rhul #y'sef tia #y'mariah rhul #y'shaqmaro #y'thuba tia #zoissette vauban #miqomarch #miqomarch 2024

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ancient-trees · 9 months

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(Hello, I finally finished a FFXIV shitpost. I have.... a few in mind)

(please don't reply with spoilers; I'm only lvl 60 so far)

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #heavensward #summoner #y'mhitra rhul #ffxiv wol #emeris orbryn #my art #at least somebody has their priorities straight around here #...and that somebody is probably carbuncle

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strwpup · 3 months

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#my post #job quest polls #ffxiv #ffxiv black mage #ffxiv red mage #ffxiv summoner #ffxiv blue mage #lalai lai #lalai ffxiv #zhai'a nelhah #shatotto ffxiv #x'rhun tia #arya gastaurknan #y'mhitra rhul #dancing wolf #martyn goodfellow #royse royle #the tribe guys count for blm i just didn't think anyone would be looking for them #i accidentally made my tank poll only one day but it got 3x the votes of the healer poll

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evilgooseman · 8 months

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she is so silly to me

mhitras for the wonderful @biddicoat

#ffxiv #y'mhitra rhul #this is getting exactly two fandom tags #smiles cutely #my art

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most-fuckable-ff14-lady · 11 months

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ROUND 1 MOST FUCKABLE FFXIV LADY

#ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #y'mhitra rhul #shiva #round 1 #summoner job quest

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paintedscales · 7 months

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FFXIV Write 2023 :: Day 18

Prompt :: Fish Out of Water Characters :: Nomin tal Kheeriin, Minazuki, Koharu Mihata, Shiun Abumi, Rokka Iteya, Yozan Nagae, Slafborn Rhotweitzsyn (mentioned), F'lhaminn Qesh (mentioned), Hoary Boulder (mentioned), Y'shtola Rhul (mentioned), Y'mhitra Rhul (alluded to) Word Count :: 2,706

FFXIV Write 2023 Master List

A formal education had never really been granted to Nomin when she lived on the Steppe. So when she sat among the children as a guest at the Doman Enclave who were now able to attend their classes, Nomin felt rather out of her element. While she found fascination at the idea that there were so many educational materials around her, it was also quite overwhelming to a degree.

However, the children had been delighted that their friend and idol had been there to visit. Nomin found some sense of solace in that as she watched Yozan, Rokka, Shiun, and Koharu take their own seats and listen attentively as Minazuki took chalk to board and wrote out the names of the provinces and territories of Othard. Her tail curled with a sense of calm happiness at witnessing them take so eagerly to learning what they could -- and also sharing what they had learned back when they were in Revenant’s Toll when F’lhaminn took the time to teach them what she knew and had access to.

When it came to the lessons of geography and maths, Nomin found herself quite enthralled and familiar with the material. Though when it came to the lessons of written word, she found herself lacking. There were plenty of things taught by Minazuki that Nomin never really learned from Bayarmaa when Nomin had been younger. Nomin could only count her blessings that she was not asked to provide any insight nor examples for their sentence structure nor grammar like she had been for the geography portion of their lessons.

It was only when Minazuki asked the children to write of people or things that inspire them that all of them seemed to light up before leaving their desks to cluster around Nomin. For a moment, Nomin had looked at each of them, her tail stiffening at the perceived implication of why they all gathered around her.

“Miss Nomin!” Koharu spoke up. She had always taken a liking to Nomin after having been given some new flowers and seeds to take care of during her time in Revenant’s Toll. Especially as someone who had a shared liking of wearing flowers in their hair. “You have a lot of stories, being an adventurer, don’t you?”

“Erm…y-yes?” Nomin started, glancing once more between everyone. She felt the pressure, and none of them had even asked anything yet. In addition, her Echo seemed to indicate their probing and excited intrigue that bubbled within them.

“Do you have any stories that Mister Slafborn has shared with you? Ooh, ooh! Or even Miss F’lhaminn?” Shiun asked.

“O-oh…well…” and just like that, a part of Nomin had been deflated. She cleared her throat, having gone from feeling nervous about being asked anything that pertained to her and her history, to feeling like a fish out of water with no real knowledge of the other two that felt significant to share. Or…at least could have been okay for her to share without overstepping unspoken boundaries.

“Well…I can’t really talk about much, I’m afraid, thinking about it…” Nomin began, noting how expectant each of the children of the self-made Doman Adventurers’ Guild watched her. She would have felt terrible if she allowed the gleams in their eyes to sputter out into nothing with what little she had. Though, she did her best to search each nook and crevice in her mind for anything.

“You…see…um…” Nomin was really struggling, though gave thought to both Ul’dah and Revenant’s Toll -- the stories that both individuals had regarding their times there. “Slafborn…he sees everything in Revenant’s Toll. There must be a myriad of things he has borne witness to. Why…when the Scions of the Seventh Dawn had been targeted and prevented entry into most Eorzean territories, he had kept ever a vigilant watch over Revenant’s Toll and listened for any news regarding our whereabouts.

Nomin then recalled her discussion with him when the theft from Rowena’s stores had been a topic of the time. For a moment, she hesitated, and then smiled warmly.

“... And he has gone through great lengths to ensure every Doman’s safety and wellbeing since you had taken refugee there -- including the four of you,” Nomin said, lacing her fingers together over top the desk she was sat at. “He was loathe to place blame on any of you for the grimoire incident, and bade me come to you in his stead -- and I’m grateful I did. He feared that he and the others stationed to oversee the safety Revenant’s Toll would have frightened you and given the other adventurers or residents cause to mistrust the Domans. He wanted, above all, to avoid that with as difficult the trip and finding sanctuary must have been already at the time.”

Now that the words were coming out of her mouth, Nomin saw very easily how Slafborn would have been an inspirational figure to the children.

“Really? And here I was thinking that he had always been ready to accuse us! Thanks for telling us, Miss Nomin!” Shiun piped up, gawping at the information that they were just now being told. Though a grin found its way onto his mouth as he went back to his desk to get his notebook out and begin writing. It seemed that he already had some ideas in mind as to what to write.

“What about Miss F’lhaminn?” Koharu pressed, her hands on the desk as she leaned in.

“Well…let’s see…” Nomin brought a finger to her chin, her eyes pointed upward toward the rafters of the open air class. She thought back to when she was first informed of F’lhaminn’s existence by Alphinaud and then let out an amused scoff when she recalled how in awe the story left her feeling.

“F’lhaminn has a really impressive history around her. If you know about the Calamity, many people thought she was lost to it -- but we ended up finding her again following some rumors telling tale of her appearance.

“She had lived away in secret over in the Near East -- Thavnair -- for so long, creating perfumes from flowers. Why, she was in the midst of collecting flowers when I met her for the first time close to Wineport in eastern La Noscea.” Nomin spoke. At this point, F’lhaminn had been living more openly in Revenant’s Toll without fear of being found out.

“Oh wow!” Shiun gasped. “But why did she live in secret for so long. Do you know?”

Nomin shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I never really asked -- she must have had her reasons.”

In the back of her mind, Nomin wondered if it was to keep Minfilia -- her Ascilia -- safe in some fashion. She supposed she would never find out unless she took a more direct approach and asked. However, she slightly shook her head to rid herself of that line of thought before returning her attention to the children once more.

“Impressive as that is…did you also know that she used to be called the Songstress of Ul’dah? She had built quite the reputation for herself long ago,” Nomin said, smiling. “I’ve never heard her songs for myself, though.”

“Oh, oh! I’ve heard Miss F’lhaminn humming to herself sometimes -- when she’s cleaning!” Rokka exclaimed excitedly.

“Is that so?” Nomin’s jaw fell open somewhat. She had never really stuck around, nor made it a habit of staying down in the Rising Stones for any prolonged amount if she could help it. Nor did she often find herself at Rowena’s café, where she has heard tale of F’lhaminn taking a liking to having a light meal or even tea there.

“Hm…I think I know what to write, then! Miss F’lhaminn always did what she could to teach me the art of dance, but…I could never quite get the hang of it. Hearing all of this about her is incredible, though!” Koharu said, grinning to herself as she returned to her desk as well.

Nomin was now left with both Yozan and Rokka. With no one else to talk about at that current time, Nomin could only wonder what figure they would question her about next. However, it seemed that both of them were a little more determined in their choices.

“Were there others that you two wished to hear about?” Nomin asked. She was not quite sure if she would measure up pending on who either Yozan and Rokka asked about, but Nomin kept an open mind and did her best to recall as many faces as she could during her time visiting or staying in Revenant’s Toll or otherwise.

“Um…what about Mister Hoary Boulder? I trained with him, see…I’d like to know if you have anything to share about him?” Yozan inquired, a determined look set upon his face. As far as Nomin remembered, Yozan had often trained with a practice sword, and sometimes saw Hoary taking time to show Yozan a proper stance to keep himself grounded.

“Erm…well… Ah! I overheard him once speaking with his brother about how he had trained alongside Hannish warriors. He and his brother, Ocher Boulder, seem to have a small rivalry of besting one anothe’s talents and feats. Though, I’m sure he’s been able to show you more oft than not, no? Especially since he went out of his way to show all of you -- along with Mister Coultenet -- different arts of combat styles.” Nomin pointed her questioning gaze in Yozan’s direction. “Full glad am I to hear that they both dedicate themselves to their craft, though. Their strength has been ever appreciated by the Scions of the Seventh Dawn when some of us aren’t there to see to matters affecting Revenant’s Toll or the rest of Eorzea.”

“Yeah! They showed us all kinds of amazing things! I wanna be able to hold my ground and protect everyone like Hoary Boulder does, though!” Yozan replied. He became a little more animated since Nomin spoke about Hoary.

“Well! You could always write about what he taught you and what you took away from his lessons.”

“I could…” Yozan looked thoughtful for a moment before a grin settled back on his face as he nodded. He happily went back to his desk to start writing right away. “I’ll write about Mister Hoary Boulder and Coultenet! Everything they taught us was so that we could fend for ourselves, after all.”

“And you?” Nomin looked over at Rokka who lingered.

“Mm…” Rokka’s brow furrowed slightly as she reached into her bag and produced a book. The book itself had been a well worn leatherbound one, the letters upon it slowly fading to time. The leftover emboss of it, however, read: Shaping the Arcane. When Rokka left the book there and lingered on it, she finally asked, “... do you have any stories about Miss Y’shtola? She let me borrow a number of her tomes, but she let me keep this one. Because of her and this book, I’ve learned how to cast curative spells -- and it’s always been good practice when one of us gets hurt.”

Y’shtola? Now there was someone that Nomin could share a number of stories about. However.

“... You know, she’s come to be this rather undying figure in the time that I’ve known her…” Nomin said, thinking back on all the times that Y’shtola has had death-defying instances. “I really don’t know how she comes back up on her own two feet, but it’s quite impressive.”

“‘Undying’? Is Miss Y’shtola powerful?”

“She is easily one of the most powerful spellcasters I have the honor of calling my friend.”

“How did she get there? Do you know? How long did it take her?” Rokka now bombarded Nomin with questions, to which Nomin could only gently laugh it all off as she thought about each one briefly.

“A lot of time and practice, I would imagine…” Nomin started. “She comes from Sharlayan, where they have a wealth of knowledge. Um…and she had this instructor…” Nomin paused briefly, remembering Master Matoya and her rather prickly demeanor. She cleared her throat and continued. “She had this instructor -- a kind of maternal figure, you might even say -- who was rather stern about Y’shtola and her teachings.”

“O-Oh…would I need a stern teacher to become a powerful spellcaster?” Rokka asked. There was a nervous tone to her voice.

“I don’t think you would ‘need’ a stern teacher…” Nomin started, though she also recalled how hard pressed and stern Esenaij was of a teacher for her when she was learning how to first wield a bow. Not to mention that there was no memory of a Jhungid instructor ever necessarily being kind to her. “Um, well…maybe you do. A lot of my teachers were pretty stern, now that I look back on my own studies and teachings.”

At first, Rokka frowned. She did not relish the idea of having a stern teacher. Though she sighed and collected herself with more determination. Picking up the book and clutching it back to herself, she nodded -- more to herself than anything.

“I’d like to be more like Miss Y’shtola when it comes to the art of magic. I think…” Rokka said. “Would that mean traveling all the way to Sharlayan to learn from the scholars and professors there?”

“It could…” Nomin slowly started in response. “But you could also meet wonderful instructors scattered all over the realm -- here in Othard, or over in Eorzea if you ever get the chance to travel back there. Why, one of Y’shtola’s sisters, I hear, has been quite the instructor in arcane magicks. Last I heard of her, she was helping with learning and teaching the art of Allagan Summoners alongside the Immortal Flames.”

“Miss Y’shtola’s family is just filled with amazing spellcasters, huh?”

“So far that I personally know.” Nomin then offered a small smile. “All that said, though… Y’shtola is an amazing Scion and an even more amazing person overall. She has been such a stalwart friend to me and the others in our lives. Despite the mean streak she can often show us, she has ever been one to aid us without a second thought, and she would do everything she could in order to research as thoroughly as possible to come to a conclusion that leaves everyone as best informed and as safe as they can before being thrust into harrowing situations.”

“Hm…” Rokka closed her eyes in thought before smiling to herself. “I think I have something, then. Thank you for what you’ve been able to share, Miss Nomin.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Nomin replied, watching Rokka go back to kneeling at her desk. The Rissai-juku had become quiet, the sounds of brushes clinking against ink pots to rid them of excess before being used to write their essays.

After a moment, Minazuki came over to Nomin and offered her a small bow before requesting her presence for a more private word. When Nomin obliged and followed her out of the shade of the Rissai-juku, they paused by a nearby bonsai pine before Minazuki regarded Nomin warmly.

“It has been such a joy having you visit on occasion, Miss Nomin,” Minazuki started. “Seeing their faces light up when you come by has been a highlight, I must admit. They speak so highly of you, that I must say that I’m surprised none of them asked to write about you. But perhaps it would have been too obvious for them to have chosen one they speak of often.”

Just then, a warm feeling flooded Nomin’s chest. The kids spoke about her on occasion? While she expected them to have asked about her and her experiences, she was grateful they elected not to. Though to hear about them speaking about her in glowing terms was a little emotional for her. Nomin did what she could to prevent herself from getting overwhelmed by the notion.

“Helping them in their trip to Revenant’s Toll, and being the reason they can come back home… I can ill thank you for everything you have done. Please accept my humblest thanks, and I hope that you can take great comfort knowing that you are the reason that these children, and by extension, I, smile and look forward to a better future for Doma and its people.”

#ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv #ffxiv writing #my writing #ffxiv oc #oc: nomin tal kheeriin #koharu mihata #minazuki #shiun abumi #yozan nagae #rokka iteya #slafborn rhotweitzsyn #f'lhaminn qesh #hoary boulder #y'shtola rhul #y'mhitra rhul #doman restoration #stb spoilers

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wildstar25 · 6 months

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Collection of unused shots from my last gpose story that I still enjoy the framing or posing, but had to cut for flow! + 1 clean version of that Y'shtola looking at Arsay before they teleport because shes pretty

#ffxiv #ffxiv gpose #y'shtola x wol #wolshtola #y'shtola rhul #y'mhitra rhul #WOL posting #Arsay Nun #arshtola

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syqy · 1 year

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book club

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #y'mhitra rhul #y'mhitra #prin ffxiv #color #hi y'mhitra likers. i care her #when it's byob day and prin just brings themself

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driftward · 1 year

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Title: Different Characters: Zoissette Vauban, Y'mhitra Rhul Rating: Teen Summary: Y'mhitra would like to learn more about Zoissette, and figure out what it is that makes her different. Notes: None

This one was different, her cousin Zel had said.

Y'mhitra watched the tall Elezen carefully, and wondered what it was that Zel had seen. He was a kind hearted soul, but rather too prone to earnestness and overly romantic imagination, she felt. So when he had pointed out a particular Elezen as a potential partner for Shtola, she did not resist the urge to scoff at him and cuff him gently while teasing him.

But this one was different, he had said. He was just certain that Nymeia had worked with Menphina to capture both Elezen and Miqo'te in a beautiful web. She did not believe him, of course, but she had come all the way to Old Sharlayan to help family, and she figured she would at least investigate before leaving. Shtola had begged out of being sociable, claiming to be rather too busy, of course. She had not pressed too hard. She knew her sister hated it when she meddled in her affairs, at least directly.

So it was up to her to find ways to be indirect.

She had found the Elezen at the Last Stand rather unintentionally. She had not been seeking her out, but she had seen a small fairy familiar flit through the air, and alight on the Elezen's shoulder. There were few enough Nymian scholars, even so many years after the rediscovery of the art, and so Y'mhitra was certain it was her. She seemed to be pondering lunch, which was fortunate. Y'mhitra walked up to her, all smiles and friendliness, and when the Elezen had noticed her approaching, she had grinned.

At least, she thought it was meant to be a grin. The rictus lock as she showed her teeth made Y'mhitra wonder if she was going to split her head in two or perhaps go for the neck. To be fair, considering the first and last time they had met, it had been a bit awkward for all involved. Y'mhitra decided to nip her apparent anxiousness in the bud.

"Zoissette, correct? You remember me, I assume. Y'mhitra, Y'shtola's sister," and here she paused, taking a moment to feign uncertainty. "Your friend threatened to kill me if I became enthralled, I believe?"

The woman blanched.

"I, uhm, would have rather hoped you had forgot that incident," she said.

Y'mhitra dropped the act and laughed. "I must needs apologise, I only mean to tease. As I am certain you recall, I found her straightforwardness endearing. At least, once she had explained her concerns. I did not and still do not hold it against you."

"Oh. Well... thank you."

The fairy looked Y'mhitra over, and took to the air. The woman's shoulders lowered just an iota, and her smile became a touch less strained. Y'mhitra glanced her over, studying her thoughtfully.

"So, I understand that you are in Old Sharlayan to help my sister. I was hoping we might share lunch together? I would love to know more about what she is up to and your part in it."

The Elezen's eyes darted off to the side, and Y'mhitra put more warmth into her smile, and shifted her posture to appear as open and nonthreatening as possible. Just a friend asking after family.

"...ah. Uhm. Well. Of course," she said, and Y'mhitra clasped her hands together.

"Excellent! Well then. What are you having?"

The Elezen - Zoissette, if she was going to be spending a lunch with her - looked over at the menu board.

"Perhaps you should order first," she said. "I think I am still deciding."

Y'mhitra nodded, and hummed thoughtfully as she looked over the menu items. It had been some time since she had visited Old Sharlayan, much less visited the Last Stand. She had some favorites from her childhood that she could loosely recall, and she was trying to decide whether to check if any of them were still available or to try something new.

"I hear good things about the fish sampler platter," said Zoissette idly.

Y'mhitra made a noise of assent, and placed her order, following Zoissette's suggestion. Zoissette had apparently made her own decision in the meanwhile, and quickly followed up by ordering a mutton and tomato sandwich with some tea, and quietly murmuring something to the clerk. Y'mhitra decided to politely pretend to not notice.

"It seems like it might be a bit cold out here today," said Zoissette neutrally as they took their seats.

"'Tis because of how far North Old Sharlayan is, as well as being an island nation," said Y'mhitra. "One does get used to it."

Zoissette nodded thoughtfully, and Y'mhitra settled in to study her. The other woman had lost some of the tension from their initial meeting, but it was impossible to hide the remains of it in her shoulders. The rictus grin was gone, replaced with a softly pleasant almost-a-smile on her face as she looked out over the ocean, and her eyes were half-lidded and calm.

Interesting. Shtola often liked them earnest. This one seemed distant.

Then again, Thancred had been a bit of a surprise at the time as well. It was time to find out more.

"So, what are you two working on, anyroad?" asked Y'mhitra.

"Has she not told you?" replied Zoissette.

Y'mhitra looked thoughtful. "Only the broad strokes. That she intends to unlock the secrets of crossing the rift."

Zoissette nodded. "Just so. I am full well surprised she has not tried to bring you in on the research. The connection between voidsent and their summoners is arguably superficially similar to that between summoner and familiar or egi - a linking of aether. You are the foremost expert in that field, are you not?"

"Not an active practitioner, however, being as a necessary component of such is exposure to Primal aether - which I have not been. However, my research has led the way towards re-establishing the traditions of Allagan summoners. Though... I suppose such is no longer necessary."

"But the body of work could still serve use, even if not for its original goal of Primal conflict," said Zoissette, looking thoughtful. "Especially as you practically revived the art yourself."

Zoissette's fairy familiar floated down between the two ladies, perching on the edge of a vase serving as a table centerpiece. As she sat, her wings fluttered slowly, and she leaned forward, fixing Y'mhitra with a penetrating look. Y'mhitra smiled at her.

"I am not the only one who has revived ancient arts. I believe yourself to be the foremost expert in Nymian Mathematics, and the first in our age to create a fairy from first principles, are you not?"

Zoissette shrugged. "Alka Zolka and myself simply rediscovered the core nature of the Nymian fairy familiars. There were others familiar with the art before myself, and many have established their own familiars, typically from Nymian soulstones."

She leaned forward, looking interested. "However, unlike you, I have not spurred an entire discipline and its students. Lady Synnove, Lady Riven, Mister Jajasamu, and others aside. I believe some of them have even been your students directly."

"My, you are well read, since as I understand, you do not deal with the summoning arts at all."

"I have had my hands full enough with exploring the depths of Nymian mathematics. That does not mean, however, that I am not interested in the work of other arcanists. Do you mind if I ask more about your work?"

"Certainly not. I shall do my best to answer," said Y'mhitra.

Zoissette nodded, and began to ask her questions. They started shallow enough, but grew deeper, and Y'mhtira relished in the opportunity to explain her work to someone who truly understood not just the practicalities of her work, but the theory behind it. Zoissette ate her sandwich patiently while Y'mhitra answered her questions, pausing in doing so only to ask for a clarifying question or to make a polite noise of understanding. Y'mhitra almost did not notice the time passing, until she looked down at her own plate, seeing it nearly untouched, and looked over at Zoissette's, seeing the woman had near finished her own lunch.

"My, I think I have been rather dominating this conversation, don't you think? Mine apologies," said Y'mhitra, picking up knife and fork and preparing to go in on her platter. "I feel as though I've hardly asked you anything about yourself."

Zoissette just shook her head. "I am not offended, if that is your concern. I have enjoyed listening to you. Say, would you care for a drink? You seem to have drank all your water already. They make a wonderful mimosa here. I think the citrus would pair well with your platter."

Y'mhitra glanced at her water, realised that she had drank a significant amount of it keeping her throat from being parched while talking about her work.

"That sounds lovely," she said, deciding to be accommodating.

"I will pay for it," said Zoissette, getting up abruptly.

She watched as the fairy took to flight to follow after Zoissette, and then leaned her head on her hand, as she ate her food thoughtfully. She had allowed herself to get off track. Not that she had learned nothing - she had learned Zoissette was quite the studious sort, and inquisitive as well.

Though that was really nothing new. Only an inquisitive mind would have gone through such effort to unearth the secrets of an ancient magical tradition, and only a studious mind could have mastered them.

Her thoughts were interrupted as a mimosa was placed on the table in front of her, and Zoissette sat down across from her with a cup of tea in her hands. Y'mhitra blinked. She had returned rather faster than she had anticipated.

Zoissette smiled at her. Well, sort of. It was barely stronger than the pleasant smile she had had on her face for most of their lunch. "Try it," she said encouragingly.

Y'mhitra took a sip, and blinked, looking at the drink. It was just the perfect mix of sweet and tart, delighting her tongue, and the alcohol carried a pleasant warmth up her spine. "...this is surprisingly good."

"Your sister is rather fond of them," said Zoissette, sipping her tea. Y'mhitra took the opening and pounced.

"Speaking of family, might I ask about yours? You hail from Ishgard, I believe?" she asked.

"I do, though there is little to say there. My mother and my older brother both served with distinction and retired with honors, and my father still enjoys his work. Certainly we are not as storied as your own family. Your sister, of course; and you as well. Though your other sisters have some stories of their own, I believe, such as Y'jhimei. To say nothing of your cousin, Y'zel. Has he told you about his work?"

Y'mhitra wanted to pry further into Zoissette's family, but the mimosa was really very tasty, and the opportunity to hear some gossip on her family members was too good to pass up.

"Well, I know how you know Y'zel," she said, "but Y'jhimei?"

"Well," said Zoissette. "She stole my research."

Y'mhitra spluttered, and Zoissette handed her some water as she began to tell the story. She split her attention between mimosa and fish platter as Zoissette first explained how Y'jhimei had stolen her research, apparently led the Ixal on a clever chase to another world, and then had come back with a story to tell. And of Y'zel, she told of his trials and tribulations at the office, of the times he needed to be retrieved from the field, and of his loves and losses. All the time, Y'mhitra was reminded of nothing so much as one of the Gridanian nobles, telling supposedly grand stories in dry tones. Zoissette's style of storytelling was similar, but where the Gridanians were dry was a matter of propriety, Zoissette apparently was dry as a matter of humor, making clever observations and devastating understatements.

Y'mhitra found herself amused by the stories, and was well past feeling the effects of the drink by the time Zoissette was done.

"...and when she returned, she did not even have the good manners to return my research. Left it clear in another world, apparently, with the so-called prince and his friends."

Y'mhitra tittered a bit as Zoissette shook her head.

"I will need to catch up with her at some point," said Y'mhitra. "I was not full aware she had gotten into such trouble."

Zoissette smiled, and shrugged.

Y'mhitra blinked a few times, and looked down at her half-eaten plate, before looking over at Zoissette's completely bare plate and empty teacup.

"Ah, I was wondering," said Zoissette. "I meant to bring some tarts back to the annex with me. Do you happen to know what your sister likes?"

Y'mhitra grinned at her. "Intending to bring her a gift, are you?"

Zoissette shrugged. "Something for everyone, really. I have several picked out and waiting for me at the counter already, just need to get one last one for her. Would you mind helping me out, letting them know what she'd like and bringing my order back with you?"

Y'mhitra could see no reason why not to. "Certainly. I shall be right back."

"Thank you," said Zoissette.

Y'mhitra got up and wandered over to the counter, her thoughts beginning to clear as she did so. She quickly picked out a simple fruit tart, and retrieved Zoissette's order, and as she did so, she went back over the stories that Zoissette had told. By the time she had returned, she had realised that none of them had featured Zoissette in any meaningful capacity.

Zoissette took the bag of treats from her as she returned. "Thank you," she said. "And now, if you will forgive me, I simply must return to the annex, we have a lot to do. You have been most pleasant company, Miss Y'mhitra."

"Thank you. This has been... enlightening," said Y'mhitra.

"Enjoy your fish platter," said Zoissette, waving as she left. Her fairy took to flight and followed after her, trailing behind her in the air.

Y'mhitra sat and picked at her fish plate. Now that Zoissette was gone, she had time to think over their conversation. She considered the woman, comparing her to various people her sister had known over the years. She did not know of all of her sisters' dalliances, and if any of them were ever serious, Y'shtola had not made them well known, but of course, sisters had a way of finding out.

But this was frustrating. She had came here to learn about Zoissette, and felt she had barely learned anything new at all. It was almost as frustrating as when she had tried to learn more from Thancred, except Thancred had at least been charming and eloquent with his stories and wit. Zoissette had been just as evasive, and perhaps even more so, with her many questions. Her stories had been interesting, and she had a sense of humor, but it had hardly been illuminating. She wanted to chase the woman down and study her and crack her mind clear open-

And then Y'mhitra stopped, and began to laugh.

"Oh, I see," she said to herself. "Different indeed."

Shaking her head, she got up from the table. This would require more investigation. Perhaps her sister could benefit from her expertise on the project after all. Not directly, of course. But as a supplier of research and ideas, and perhaps as a collaborator to a certain Nymian scholar.

She was still chuckling to herself as she left the Last Stand.

"I am beginning to think you have a thing for lost causes, dear sister," she said.

#year of the otp #different #final fantasy xiv #zoissette vauban #y'mhitra rhul #202302-14 #biot writes

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