by Jun Eishima
“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” Sol gave her a puzzled look, but then began to explain. “It’s a jinx. You don’t say all your thank-yous and good-byes, because if you do, there’s no regret left to hold you back from dying.”
Then, with a wrinkle across the bridge of her nose, she added, “Gods, how did you ever function before?”
“I understand now. I am again indebted for your thorough expla―”
“Stop already!”
Lunafreya, bewildered by her own mistake, brought a hand up to cover her mouth. Sol burst out laughing, and then Lunafreya was laughing too. She managed to keep her next thank-you silent, saying the words only in her heart.
It looked like Luna was feeling better. Maybe teasing out her true desires had helped put her mind at ease. She’d be fine for now, at least mentally―Sol had no idea what to make of her physical symptoms.
With Luna taken care of, the next thing to do was call Biggs and give him a rundown of what happened at Nohm. The outpost was critical to retaining their foothold in former imperial territory. Securing areas outside of Lestallum where people could live was one of the main goals of the Kingsglaive and everyone else who collaborated with them. So Nohm’s complete loss was something they couldn’t afford. They had to do whatever it took to make sure it wasn’t overrun by daemons.
The nearby ruins were of interest because of the contents of a report on the empire’s past activities. The ruins themselves were relics of Solheim, but apparently, one of the empire’s old daemon-infused creations might be lurking within them. The goal was to eliminate the potential threat from the area and, at the same time, assess the feasibility of using the ancient structures as a settlement. A safe, easily defensible location in the former empire where people could live would allow them all to make more efficient use of the resources found there, as there were plenty of materials in the region that could not be transported to Lestallum.
“Sol! Are you all right?! Where are you?!” Biggs started shouting the moment the call connected. Sol winced and pulled the phone slightly away from her ear.
“We’re safe in Nohm. But by the time we showed up, it was already empty.”
“We heard about what happened. Some of the hunters managed to escape. What’s it looking like now? The daemons still around?”
“We’re all right. Luna took care of the daemons. What about Mom? Is she with you?”
There was another silence, just as in their previous call. It was more than Sol could bear, and she repeated her question, voice going shrill. “What about Mom?!”
“Lady A’s squad is down in the ruins. They’re surrounded by a pack of daemons that’s blocking the way back out.”
“Got it. We’re on our way!”
“No need. We’re already in the process of sealing the place up. Once that’s done, we’ll be pulling out of the area.”
Sol couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Seal up? Pull out? What was Biggs saying?
She felt the blood drain from her face.
“You’re planning to leave them behind?!”
Biggs did not answer. Sol felt the draining blood surge back.
“The hell is wrong with you?! You think I’m just gonna stand by and let you do this?! I’m heading there now. I’ve got Luna with me, so―”
“Listen to me, Sol. These are orders from Lady A herself. She doesn’t want anyone else going in there. This armor lurking down there―Sapphire Weapon, they’re calling it―is too big a threat. Lady A says to seal off the entrance and get the hell out of the area. You’ve got to stand down on this one.”
Sol had read the reports on Sapphire Weapon, so she knew how dangerous it was. But she still didn’t want to accept the idea of . . . A lump formed at the back of her throat, and she found herself unable to speak. She knew her mother probably better than anyone else. If Aranea gave the order, she meant it.
Biggs filled the silence. “I’ll pass word when we figure out the next rendezvous point. For now, sit tight in Nohm.”
He ended the call, and Sol stood without moving, continuing to hold the phone in hand. Her thoughts wouldn’t come together. One phrase from her childhood sounded over and over in her mind. Please don’t take them away. Please don’t take them away. Was she about to lose everything? Again? Just like that awful day ten years ago?
“Sol?” Lunafreya’s voice came soft and gentle. “Is everything all right?”
“Um. Yeah. All good.”
“Has something happened to your mother?”
At the note of concern in Luna’s voice, Sol found herself almost ready to cry. She clenched her jaw, forcing down the welling emotion.
“She’s in the depths of the ruins. Surrounded by daemons.”
“Then we must hurry. Quickly, Sol! Let us go to her aid.”
“We can’t. She doesn’t want anyone else following her in. I’m stuck out here.”
When she said it, the words didn’t even feel like hers. It was as if she were reading lines off a page of a script.
“What are you saying?” Lunafreya asked. “You told me before that you’re going to make sure no one else dies.”
Sol knew that already. She didn’t need to hear it from someone else. Luna’s hands grabbed at Sol’s arms, but Sol batted them away in irritation.
“Look, there’s some huge monster down there, one that even she wasn’t able to take down. And now they’re surrounded by a pack of daemons to boot. Me going down there isn’t going to make the situation any better.”
“You mustn’t speak like that! You said it yourself on the phone. We’re heading in there! You’ll have me with you!”
It seemed Luna had been listening to Sol’s half of the conversation with Biggs. Hardly a surprise, since Luna’d been standing right next to her. Which made it feel even worse for Sol to admit to herself that if Biggs hadn’t cut her off, she’d intended to continue, “I’ve got Luna with me, so it’ll be fine. She can take care of the daemons.” Because here she was again, expecting someone else to fix things for her, just like a child. Now she felt thankful to Biggs for cutting her off and sickly relieved she hadn’t let that last bit slip out where Luna could hear it.
“We’ve got to hurry. We shall finish off the daemons and save your mother, then―”
“Listen to yourself! You know better than anyone what absorbing the daemons does to you. If you keep on like this, next you’ll be turning into a monster.”
Asking for Luna’s help was a step too far for Sol to take. She couldn’t sacrifice someone else, not even for the sake of her own family. She wouldn’t let someone else take on the burden that she should bear. Realizing that she’d been on the cusp of doing exactly that only strengthened her resolve.
“It does not matter. I will help you. Not because it is my calling, but because I wish to do so.”
“Would you still say that if you knew who I really was to you? To your family?”
In M.E. 744, Emperor Iedolas Aldercapt of Niflheim had ordered the invasion of Fenestala Manor, home of the royal family of Tenebrae. The family of the Oracle. The assault claimed the life of the previous Oracle―Lunafreya’s mother―and for four years afterward, Lunafreya had remained in the manor under lock and key. Her captivity had been on direct order from the emperor.
“I am Solara Aldercapt Antiquum, granddaughter of the late emperor of Niflheim. The man who killed your mother. Would you still help me now, knowing what my family has done to yours?”
Sol had always been vaguely aware of her own high status even from an early age, but how precisely she fit into the hierarchy of the empire had been explained to her only recently. Her adoptive mother had been the one to break the news. “Now that you’re older,” Aranea had begun, “there’s something you should know.”
The revelation had come suddenly and heavily. It felt like Aranea was delivering some deathb
ed secret―like she was preparing to leave Sol somehow. Sol had listened, but she’d grown sulky and defiant.
“Yeah, I know,” she’d told her mother. “We’re not really related, I get it.”
She regretted those words now with all of her heart.
When she’d met Luna, she’d figured there was no reason to go out of her way to reveal her connection to the empire. They would only be spending a few days together at the most. But now, with Luna ready to sacrifice herself, it couldn’t be kept secret any longer. Sol wasn’t so cruel as to let the Oracle throw her life away for the sake of an enemy. Not for the descendant of someone who had so wounded her family.
Lunafreya’s response took her aback.
“Granddaughter of the emperor or not, it does not matter to me. The person I see before me right now is just a woman. She is disconcertingly good at cards, a rather indifferent cook, and a bit stubborn, but she is still a person like any other, and her name is Sol.”
“Luna . . . ” Sol murmured.
“Before me stands someone in need. I could not fathom refusing to help when it is in my power to do so. If I were to simply walk away and let your mother be sealed up in the ruins, I could never forgive myself.”
On receipt of Biggs’s first message the other day, Sol had been almost frantic with worry. Who knew what might have happened to the survey team and those who had gone in to assist it? She’d taken her frustration out on Luna, saying horrible things to her, and yet, when they were surrounded by the daemons at Nohm, Luna had protected her as if it were the only thing to do.
And as a result, Luna had edged even closer toward becoming a daemon. Now responsibility for that lay on Sol’s shoulders, too.
She looked at Luna. “I can’t let you do it. I’ve already caused you enough trouble―”
“It is no hardship,” Luna interrupted, words quiet yet firm. “I help because I wish to. Did you not hear me before?”
Their travels together had only lasted a few days, but during that time, Luna’s words had always been truthful. The woman was too transparent for her own good, the type of person who always let her hand show. It was exasperating. But because she never lied and was always straightforward, her words held power. Luna wouldn’t say something if she didn’t believe it to be true. So her quiet statement pierced right to Sol’s core.
“Luna . . . ” she started.
Sol decided to be straightforward, too.
“I’m sorry. I need your help. I can’t do this without your powers.”
Luna smiled and nodded. “Then let us go. Together.”
“Thanks, Luna. And whatever happens, I just want you to know―”
Luna cut her off. “No. Do not say any more. That is the kind of thing people say before they go and die on you.”
They looked at each other and laughed.
On the road to the ruins, Sol finally shared the story of the day she lost everything. The day Gralea fell. Since the events had occurred after Lunafreya’s death in Altissia, everything was news to her, from the revelation of Ardyn Izunia’s hand in the destruction of the empire to the report of Emperor Iedolas’s death.
“Daemons attacked the estate that day. Soon the whole place was overrun. Desperate to see to my safety, my lady mother . . . Heh. It sounds weird, saying it now. But that’s what I used to call her. ‘My lady mother.’”
Sol’s real father―the imperial prince of Niflheim, Iedolas Aldercapt’s son―had not been wed to Sol’s mother. For a long time, the emperor had been unaware of the existence of his own granddaughter.
“The mom I have now, I met right after my escape. Ever since then, the day I became an orphan, she’s always looked after me. We’re not related by blood, but to me, she’s my real mother.”
“Then we must stop at nothing to ensure that she is safe.”
“Yeah. You’re right. We have to save her.”
For a while afterward, Sol was quiet, and the motorcycle rolled on. But the silence was no longer awkward. There was no need for words said aloud. Lunafreya knew that she and Sol were thinking the same thing. They were headed toward the same future.
From the moment they’d arrived at Nohm and Sol had explained that there had been an incident at some ruins nearby, Lunafreya had suspected she knew which site it was. Now, as they drew near on Regina, her suspicions were confirmed.
“This is Ralmuell,” Lunafreya murmured.
“Yeah, that’s right. You been here before or something?”
“I have. For the first time when I was twelve years of age.”
When Lunafreya explained that this was the location where she had performed her training in preparation to become the Oracle, Sol’s eyes grew wide.
“I was taught that it was a temple from ancient times,” Lunafreya explained, “but I had not realized that it rested atop a remnant site of the Solheim civilization.”
The holy site of Ralmuell was said to be a place of communion between humanity and the gods. Citizens of Tenebrae often went to the ruins on pilgrimage, and the Oracle successors always trained there before ascension.
“If you trained here, then you must know the layout, right?”
“To some extent. As I understand it, there is a large underground cavern, but entry to that part of the site was forbidden.”
“Know any shortcuts or side entrances? It’d be best if we can sneak in without being spotted. If Biggs and Wedge catch us, they’ll stop us from going inside for sure.”
“Biggs. Might that be whom you were speaking with earlier?”
Sol nodded. Lunafreya remembered the grief-stricken look as Sol had asked, You’re planning to leave them behind?!
“Yes,” Lunafreya said. “I know of a way we can get inside without being too conspicuous.”
For the duration of her training, Lunafreya’s contact with the pilgrims was carefully moderated, as she had not yet formally ascended as Oracle. She had made use of a passage that allowed entry to the training grounds without being seen by visitors.
Beyond the passage, too, she had learned of several small rooms and hidden staircases carved into the solid rock that allowed one to move about in secrecy. The existence of such things perhaps implied that there had always been, even from ancient times, those with untoward intentions who wished to see the Oracle and her words bent to their own nefarious ends.
They avoided the hunters watching the entrance and circled around farther back. To Lunafreya, everything about the temple grounds brought back memories. When they were inside, she gazed at the murals of the gods on the ceilings and of past Oracles on the walls.
At the time, it had occurred to Lunafreya that someday her likeness, too, would appear on one of these walls, but at the age of twelve the prospect had seemed like something so terribly distant it was hardly even real.
Things felt different now. She had lived one existence as the Oracle. She’d forged covenants with the gods at the cost of her life. She’d been killed by Ardyn. The temple walls were the same as when she was a girl, and yet now they carried a gravity she’d never apprehended before.
Lunafreya’s mother had been killed suddenly and unjustly by the forces of Niflheim. Surely there were other Oracles of the past who had died untimely deaths, yet every Oracle on these walls was depicted with smiles overflowing with affection. How many tears did each of those smiles conceal?
The portrait furthest back was of the first Oracle. She appeared again by the doors leading to the sanctuary, this time as a statue silently guarding the entrance to the holy site. Her name was engraved on the pedestal upon which she stood: Aera Mirus Fleuret.
“Luna? Is something wrong?” Sol paused, a worried look on her face.
“It’s nothing. This statue just caught my attention.”
“She kinda looks like you, to be honest. Though I guess that makes sense. The first Oracle would’ve been one of
your ancestors, right?”
Lunafreya thought she heard her name being called again. She looked up to meet the statue’s eyes. For a brief moment, it seemed like those stone eyes were glistening with tears. The statue’s outline began to grow indistinct, and Sol’s anxious, repeated inquiries of “Luna?” faded away into the distance.
The gods blessed me with a power and a purpose: to cure people of what ails them.
The voice seemed familiar. Lunafreya felt certain she’d heard it somewhere before. The moment it reached her ears, her surroundings were bathed in golden light. Gone were the ancient murals and floor of stone. Gone completely were Sol’s cries. Ears of wheat bowed in the wind, a field stretching on as far as the eye could see. On every side, the warm color of the harvest surrounded her.
Your devotion shall not go unnoticed. The gods will doubtless be watching over you.
The second voice was that of the first Oracle. For some reason, Lunafreya knew this with certainty.
So who did the voice other belong to? Who was the first speaker?
“Ardyn Lucis Caelum.”
Her question was met with this immediate answer. Aera Mirus Fleuret, first to hold the title of Oracle, spoke directly into Lunafreya’s mind.
“Such was the name of the man I loved,” Aera said, “and the man meant to be our Founder King, ruling over the new nation of Lucis.”
Ardyn? That was who she’d heard speaking? The voice was quite similar in tone to that of the Ardyn she knew, but her mind reeled at the implications. And what was this about the Founder King?
“Ardyn was chosen. He alone was bestowed with the power to heal those afflicted by the Starscourge.”
Lunafreya’s surroundings shifted once again. Now she saw a young woman in the throes of the scourge, chained atop a small wooden bedframe in a shed. Ardyn stood before her, his hand extended. He drew in the scourge, and the young woman was healed.
And there had been others, too. Soon, Lunafreya was witnessing scenes of innumerable lives delivered from the scourge by Ardyn’s hands.
